Edward Hopper Morning in a City

Edward Hopper Morning in a CityEdward Hopper High NoonEdward Hopper Four Lane Road
were sitting in the Cenobiarch's garden. Far overhead an eagle circled, looking for anything that wasn't a tortoise.
"I like the idea of democracy. You have to have someone everyone distrusts," said Brutha. "That way, everyone's happy. Think about it. Simony?"
"Yes?"
"I'm making you head of the Quisition."
"What?"
"I want it stopped. And I want it stopped the hard way."
"You want me to kill all the inquisitors? Right!"
"No. That's the easy way. I want as few deaths as possible. Those who enjoyed it, perhaps. But only those. Now . . . where's Urn?"keep here."
"Plenty of room when we burn the Septateuch," said Simony.
"No burning of anything. You have to take a step at a time," said Brutha. He looked out at the shimmering line of the desert. Funny. He'd been as happy as he'd ever been in the desert.
"And then . . ." he began.
"Yes?"
Brutha lowered his eyes, to the farmlands and villages around the CitadelThe Moving Turtle was still on the beach, wheels buried in the sand blown about by the storm. Urn had been too embarrassed to try to unearth it."The last I saw, he was tinkering with the door mechanism," said Didactylos. "Never happier than when he's tinkering with things.""Yes. We shall have to find things to keep him occupied. Irrigation. Architecture. That sort of thing.""And what are you going to do?" said Simony."I've got to copy out the Library," said Brutha."But you can't read and write," said Didactylos."No. But I can see and draw. Two copies. One to