The Oracle

The stop-captain's head had been jerked over to the right by the knot of the rope which had hanged him. A wooden chair lay on its side on the floor beneath his dangling feet. On the desk nearby was a typewritten note, in which the officer confessed to a terrible error of professional judgement in allowing a Zeppelin of the King's Flight to go aloft in near-hurricane conditions. It was a clear case of suicide, as the Coroner's Court would no doubt conclude.

Lyra took the alethiometer out of its travelling bag and held it out in front of her. The pointer jiggled from side to side as the airship was battered by the storm-winds that still raged around it. This was not going to be an easy reading.

Although he had said nothing, it had become clear to Lyra that the go-captain was becoming increasingly worried about their chances of surviving the storm. The airship had held its position for the past three hours, but that meant that only one hour's fuel remained in its reserves. It would be impossible for the ship to steer safely to the ground, let alone moor at a mast, if it were without power. They would soon have to cut the engines and let the gale blow them where it would.

'Why not do just that?' said Pantalaimon. 'This storm won't last for ever. It doesn't really matter if we end up in Frankland, or Danemark, or Doytchland. We'll still get back home all right.'

'There are high mountains to the east of here, Pan. We'd be dashed up against them and wrecked.'

There was no question of Lyra using the Books to help with the reading. They were stowed away in the aircraft's hold and were impossible to reach. It would have to be done by Lyra alone, without aid and with the instrument's needle made hard to follow by the shaking of the ship. And what question should she ask it?

'Sir Captain?'

'Madam Professor?'

'I propose conducting a divination of the oracle, using the alethiometer, to seek guidance as to what we should do. Will you follow its advice?'

'An alethiometer, eh?' The go-captain considered. 'It is not standard procedure, Madam Professor. If I choose to base my command decisions on the advice of an oracle, rather than the tried-and-tested procedures that have been laid down for the direction of the King's Flight, then I am laying myself open to a reprimand at the very least if the outcome is favourable, and to a trial by court-martial if the outcome is unfavourable.'

'Sir Captain, you are quite right. Shall we say, then, that if you consider that the oracle's advice seems sound to you, you will adopt it as your own command decision. If it seems ridiculous or dangerous to you, then you can simply dismiss it, and nothing will have been said.'

The frame of the airship creaked and groaned ominously as it was pushed and pulled by the force of the wind. The go-captain considered further. 'Very well, Madam Professor. I will hear your oracle.'

'What should I ask it, Sir Captain? Remember that the alethiometer can only divine the truth as it is. It cannot predict the future, nor does it have any opinions of its own, nor can it make guesses. The simpler and more direct the question you ask, the more certain it is that the answer will also be both simple and direct. For example, you might chose to ask it if we will reach the ground safely. Its answer would either be meaningless or plain wrong, as that would be asking it to speculate about the future. Or you might ask it What are our chances of survival, and it might answer fifty percent, which would not help us in the slightest.'

'What would you ask it, Madam Professor?'

Lyra thought for a moment. 'I would ask In which direction lies safety?'

The go-captain bowed. 'I concur. Divine your oracle, Madam Professor. And read well!'

Lyra set the three pointers of the instrument and framed the question in her mind. Instantly, the moving needle began to spin, stopping briefly at the symbols which were inscribed around the bezel, then moving on. As she had feared, Lyra found it difficult to be sure exactly which symbols the needle had indicated, as the Zeppelin lurched and swayed and her hands shook with the effort of holding the alethiometer steady.

After five minutes of intense concentration she had a result, but it was the most uncertain reading she had conducted for many years, ever since she had achieved her mastery of the instrument.

'Sir Captain, I have an answer.'

'What is it, Madam Professor?'

'The oracle says There is an eye in the south. Is that answer meaningful to you, Sir Captain? Is it advice that you would follow? I must add that this has been a very difficult interpretation for me.'

'Do you trust the oracle?'

'I do. It is my interpretation of it that I am uncertain of.'

'Could you ask it,' the go-captain pointed to the alethiometer, 'again? Check its answer?'

'It is not possible, Sir Captain, to ask the oracle the same question repeatedly. It will refuse to answer a second time.'

'Then I will follow its advice, Madam Professor. I strongly suggest that you permit me to secure you in your seat. This is going to be a very bumpy ride!'

The go-captain took webbing straps and shackles from a locker and showed Lyra how to attach them to the seat and how to wrap them around herself. Pantalaimon took shelter inside her coat.

'Helmsman!'

'Sir?'

'Hard-a-port!'

'Hard-a-port! Aye-aye Sir!' The Zeppelin, its engines running at full power, heeled over to the left and its hundred-yard-long frame shook and quivered as it took the full blast of the storm. The floor of the gondola reared up and Lyra was thrown violently against the restraints that held her in her seat.

'Any news yet?'

'No.'

'It will not be long now.'

'Are you sure? This is a King's Ship we are talking about, no ordinary vessel.'

'This is no ordinary storm.'