There was a girl named Mary who lived near us. She was fourteen then, and I desired her as those in the Cavern out of Timeand Space had desired me.
So when I saw Guru and he had bowed, I told him of it, and he looked at me in great surprise. "You are growing older, Peter," he said.
"I am, Guru. And there will come a time when your words will not be strong enough for me."
He laughed. "Come, Peter," he said. "Follow me if you wish. There is something that is going to be done—" He licked his thin, purple lips and said: "I have told you what it will be like."
"I shall come," I said. "Teach me the word." So he taught me the word and we said it together.
The place we were in next was not like any of the other places I had been to before with Guru. It was No-place. Always before there had been the seeming passage of time and matter, but here there was not even that. Here Guru and the others cast off their forms and were what they were, and No-place was the only place where they could do this.
It was not like the Cavern, for the Cavern had been out of time and space, and this place was not enough of a place even for that. It was No-place.
What happened there docs not bear telling, but I was made known to certain ones who never departed from there. All came to them as they existed. They had not color or the seeming of color, or any seeming of shape.
There I learned that eventually I would join with them; that I had been selected as the one of my planet who was to dwell without being forever in that No-place.
Guru and I left, having said the word.
"Well?" demanded Guru, staring me in the eye.
"I am willing," I said. "But teach me one word now—"
"Ah," he said grinning. "The girl?"
"Yes," I said. "The word that will mean much to her."
Still grinning, he taught me the word.
Mary, who had been fourteen, is now fifteen and what they call incurably mad.
Last night I saw Guru again and for the last time. He bowed as I approached
him. "Peter," he said warmly.
