The present population was divided into two nations. The smaller island country — inhabited, it was said, by "Talents," or something like that — wanted nothing to do with the Fed and so was to be left alone. The larger nation, however, welcomed the chance to rejoin the mainstream of interstellar humanity, and it was this segment of the population that interested Gebi Pirella, S.J.

His mission was one of critical importance to the Amalgamated Church of Unified Christendom because the inhabitants here had been described as followers of a distinctly Christian-like religion, complete with crucifixes. Early trade envoys who had been permitted a brief glance inside one of the chapels mentioned that the crucifixes were somehow different, but gave no specifics.

No matter. News of the existence of a planet-wide Christian enclave would prove incalculably important to the stagnating Unified Church, spreading its name and hopefully drawing converts from all over Occupied Space.

"The cross is just a symbol, of course," Mantha was saying as he pointed to the top of the chapel. He was a big, fair-haired man wearing only a loincloth in the heat. His grammar and speech pattern carried an archaic ring. "Not an object of worship. We revere the one who died upon it and hold to the lesson of brotherhood he taught us."

Father Pirella nodded. "Of course"

Heartening to know, and the first exposition of faith he had been able to wrest from this taciturn native who seemed to serve as some sort of ecclesiastical administrator to the locale.

The Jesuit had pushed their initial conversation toward a discussion of theological concepts but soon discovered that he and Mantha did not share the same vocabulary on religious matters.