And dozens of worlds roll before him like balls of exotic marble, stippled, gauged, polished, incadescent.

“… Contained,” says Anubis. “They are contained within the field which arcs between the only two poles that matter.”

“Poles?” says the metal head that is Wakim.

“The House of Life and the House of the Dead. The Middle Worlds about their suns do move, and all together go on the paths of Life and Death.”

“I do not understand,” says Wakim.

“Of course you do not understand. What is at the same time the greatest blessing and the greatest curse in the universe?”

“I do not know.”

“Life,” says Anubis, “or death.”

“I do not understand,” says Wakim. “You used the superlative. You called for one answer. You named two things, however.”

“Did I?” asks Anubis. “Really? Just because I used two words, does it mean that I have named two separate and distinct things? May a thing not have more than one name? Take yourself for an example. What are you?”

“I do not know.”

“That may be the beginning of wisdom, then. You could as easily be a machine which I chose to incarnate as a man for a time and have now returned to a metal casing, as you could be a man whom I have chosen to incarnate as a machine.”

“Then what difference does it make?”

“None. None whatsoever. But you cannot make the distinction. You cannot remember. Tell me, are you alive?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I think. I hear your voice. I have memories. I can speak.”

“Which of these qualities is life? Remember that you do not breathe, your nervous system is a mass of metallic strands and I have burnt your heart. Remember, too, that I have machines that can outreason you, outremember you, outtalk you. What does that leave you with as an excuse for saying you are alive? You say that you hear my voice, and ‘hearing’ is a subjective phenomenon? Very well. I shall disconnect your hearing also. Watch closely to see whether you cease to exist”