The Great Hall certainly lived up to its name: it was a hall and it was great.

So great in fact that one wondered whether or not the space it occupied could have been put to better use. For the enormity of it, at one end were seven large chairs positioned on a half crescent that sloped up in the middle. The chairs grew in stature with their place and elevation on the crescent, the largest solitary chair being at the top and centre. In front of the chairs and aligned in rows extending from each edge of the crescent were six long sets of benches, three per side.

Two simple chairs and a folding table were sitting in the gap between the rows of benches.

At one chair sat a man who was sorting through the papers he had spread across the table.

The Civil Servant pointed me in the direction of the table and made his exit via the same two huge ornate doors that we had entered by.

I walked down the ten or so steps to the floor of the hall and began to cross it. My footsteps echoed around the room, but the seated man didn't show any sign of moving until I was halfway across the floor. With a sudden movement the man stopped sorting and got to his feet to face me. Instinctively I stopped, unsure of how or whether I should approach him. The man waved the piece of paper he was holding and quietly said, "It's alright, come closer, I want to show you something."

As I approached he waved me towards the empty chair the other side of the table. He was well-dressed and clean, in fact, immaculate. He was not, though, dressed how I expected, wearing just simple clothes, but items that all fitted him extremely well.

He thrust his hand across the table and greeted me, "I am Chancellor Dragu, Ruling Centre of the Heptet. Welcome Lupi, I believe that is your chosen name?"

I extended my hand to meet his and simply nodded as we shook; unable to answer in case I used a salutation inappropriate for a Ruling Centre. He sat down and indicated that I do the same and as I sat he slid the piece of paper he had been holding across the table.

"What do you make of that?" he enquired.

The paper was segregated into four quarters by black lines from the centre of each side.

In each quarter was a diagram linked by an arrow to the one next to it forming a cycle around the page. The diagrams represented the Domes, the Ice Quarries and opposite each other, two images of the Stilt Cities.

Under each arrow was a column of numbers.  Looking at the numbers, I could see the trend: the numbers in the corresponding rows for each set added up to approximately the same.

I assumed, therefore, from my knowledge of it, that each number itself was the sailing time between the destinations in days. I couldn't tell the gap in duration between the measurements, but  I decided it must be several years, as although I felt that the journey times had changed a little, it had never moved beyond a day in my time aboard. Looking at the numbers, however, there was a clear trend, which was disconcerting to say the least.

What I said next shocked the man, but he managed to hide his reaction very quickly; a natural ability for a politician I suppose.

"How long before it becomes untenable to maintain the Cities?"

He pointed a finger at me and wagged it, "You are very astute aren't you."

For a moment he paused and looked at me as if trying to decide how far to go with the conversation.

For myself I was beginning to wish I had not shown so much impertinence.

Eventually he continued, "Why don't you tell me what you think?"

"Well," I said, " "Depth is obviously a problem, but the reason I asked is because the real key is whether or not you can move the Cities along the Barrier line any distance to compensate."

"Exactly," he replied, "what is the pattern and is it linear or a wave? That, we are working on presently."

"We would have no problem getting to and from the Domes if you did," I added, "but obviously the journey time would extend. I'm sure the Captain could have told you that."

"Indeed he did." Dragu mumbled as he began to re-arrange the papers again.

Presently he stopped and stared at me again from above his knuckles as he rested his chin on them.

"I have here a file on you," he began to recite, pointing to a folder to his left but not taking his eyes off of me, "I'm afraid to say that from my point of view it is fairly unexceptional."

I nodded in agreement.

I assume just to prove a point, he continued, "Middle ranking in most tests, found a role as a welder on a repair crew, fit, able and competitive at what you did."

I nodded again.

"Found guilty of being party to a negligent failure to properly repair a heating flue that resulted in severe illness due to carbon monoxide poisoning from an internal leak. More by luck than sensor monitoring, no-one was killed. Sentenced to five years aboard The Destiny of which you have served two. In that time you have, obviously, survived, which shows no small amount of luck, skill and hard work on your part. You've done what was asked of you, nothing more, nothing less. Your nose, as they say, is clean."

I shifted nervously in my seat; I was beginning to see where this was going and didn't like it one bit.

I took a deep breath and formulated my interjection as carefully as I could.

"As you say, I have always tried to be a model prisoner, and I still am and strive to be. I haven't sought out the attention I am getting from the Cult, and I promise to let you know everything that I learn or think."

This time Dragu nodded.

"Good, good," he replied, "but as clever as you think you are, I'd advise you for now to stick to the facts. I have many clever people who can do the thinking for you."

So, in short order I replayed in my head everything that had occurred since the day I was barrowing ice in the Last Park up until the present and related it to Dragu.

"Thank you Lupi." he added convincingly once I had finished, "Now I'm going to explain something to you that might help you when you get to the City Of The Eye. The Cult Of Rafii are not, as you have seen for yourself, that much of a Cult. The smoke and mirrors they use to hide their true nature is something psychological, don't you think?"

By now I'm sure Dragu was beginning to think my nodding was a nervous tic rather than a thought out response, so he ploughed on before I'd even finished moving my head.

"Let me give you a brief history of how it all came about; not many people know much about this, for good reason, but I'm sure I can trust in your discretion." with that he smiled until I nodded again.

"About thirty years ago, a small group of what we would call 'underachievers' began to coalesce into the nascent beginnings of what is now the Cult Of Rafii. These people were, not unlike yourself, not destined to have important roles in their chosen subject. However, unlike you, they refused to believe that they had to settle for less meaningful employ. Indeed, although they lost access to those with the brightest futures, and hence could not being to imagine the thoughts of these people, they continued to study what they thought was 'cutting edge thinking' at their own slow pace.

Of course, due to the requirement for them to actually perform in roles for which they were suited, they could only study in their own time which, naturally, made them even less likely to be competitive."

At this point Dragu paused to see if I was taking in what he was saying. I was, but, for some reason, forgot to nod; he nodded for me and I of course took the hint.

"The reason they came together was a common thread so the story goes." he continued, "According to research, the IQ of the population was on a downward trend: generally speaking the brightest of the latest generation were not as bright as the previous one. The fledgling group reasoned that this should not be possible, that as IQ can only be tested at a stage in childhood development after initial schooling, that somehow the system was at fault."

At this pause I was ready and almost nodded too early. I was beginning to wonder what to expect at the end of this story, or, more importantly, what was expected of me. Luckily Dragu gave me a clear signal as he wrapped up.

"They proposed that the competitive nature of the education system was at fault, and, by association presumably, the whole nature of competitive endeavour. They became, essentially, a bunch of egalitarian nutjobs."

Dragu laughed at this point, "Can you believe that?"

I nodded and attempted a reply,

"But surely, competitive endeavour is inherent in nature, life, everything. What did they hope to achieve by this?"

Dragu looked at me in a quizzical way, as if I was being deliberately agreeable, which, considering my position, I obviously was. However, as it happens, I did agree with him: to my mind there had never been any reason to doubt the assumptions of evolutionary improvement brought about by competitive behaviour.

"That is, a good question, and, in answer, all I can say is they are simply ignorant radicals, not happy with their lot and, notwithstanding the best competitive endeavours of our sharpest minds, unhappy with the progress we are making."

At this point, Dragu raised both hands in a gesture of surrender.

"So," I added, "The mystical angle is just a ruse to try to engender the trust and loyalty of those even more ignorant than themselves."

Dragu nodded.

At this point his intense stare reached its zenith, "So," he said in his most persuasive voice, "you seem like a reasonable man and I think you understand that although these people don't seem to be harmful, we need to know what they are up to?"

I nodded one final time.

"Good," Dragu exclaimed, "and as a measure of my gratitude, I will personally sign, on your return, an order reducing your sentence by two years in recognition of your service."

With that he stood up, smiled and extended his hand.

In shock I left him standing for longer than I should, but I finally managed to get to my feet and took his offer with the best smile and firmest shake I could muster.

On my return to the ship, both the crew and the other prisoners reacted slightly differently than the last time we took a detour. It seems for many it was the first time they had seen the harbour and had, during my absence, time to relax, eat a meal prepared onshore, and generally just take it all in.

As a result, although the Bosun was eager to make way and the crew were working hard and swiftly to make it so, I did not receive the silent irked glares and stone faces but waves, smiles and cheers.

Coupled with how I was already feeling as a result of my meeting, I have to say that that particular moment was one of the most vividly happy experiences I'm sure I will ever have.