Only One Question Is Eternal—What Lies Beyond the Ultimate?
rchers, against the Onist outpost on our country's border. But the Onists had other ideas. They took me away. I had to admire their vitality, because all night we ran through the silent woodlands, and they seemed tireless. I could maintain their pace, of course: but I'm a Pluralist.
I could see their village from a long way off, its night fires glowing in the dark. It was only then that we slowed our pace. Soon we entered the place, a roughly circular area within a stockade, and my captors thrust me within a hut. I couldn't do much worrying about tomorrow, not when I was so tired. I slept.
I dreamed a stupid dream about the Onist beliefs, the beliefs of an unimaginative people who could picture one Maker and one Maker only. I must have ch
A short story from 1952 dealing with a religious war between the believers in one maker, and the believers in many makers. A pluralist is captured alive by oneists and force-marched to view evidence of proof of one maker.
The writing is workmanlike and the plot moves along at a good clip. It has a twist at the end. An okay story to read.
