The Wind's Twelve Quarters - Ursula K. Le Guin

SEVENTEEN SPELLBINDING TALES... from the s uperb wea ver of fa nta s y, Urs ul a Le Gui n. The crea tures of her uni que geni us tra vel i n a nd out of me; doi ng ba l e i n worl ds tha t gl i er wi th the bl ue gl i nt of medi eva l a rmor; s kul ki ng i n the gra y dus t of a dea d pl a net’s l a va ; a nd l urki ng behi nd trees whos e trunks a re wa rmed by a dra gon’s s moky brea th... i n a col l ec on tha t repres ents the crea m of Le Gui n’s rema rka bl e i ma gi na ti on. Introduci ng: Ri ka rd the Pri nce, defender of hi s fa ther’s fa i ry-ta l e ki ngdom, who l ongs for morta l i ty Profes s or Ba rry Pennywi ther, whos e boredom a nd des pa i r a re ba ni s hed by a s pel l ca s t from the fi fteenth century John Chow, born of cl oni ng, who ha s to l os e ni ne l i ves before percei vi ng the na ture of l ove “Le Gui n fa s hi ons i dea s l i ke a gol ds mi th; i ntri ca te, i nvol ved, a nd confi dent.” —Chi ca go Da i l y News “Le Gui n wri tes wi th pa i ns ta ki ng i ntel l i gence. Her cha ra cters a re compl ex a nd ha un ng, a nd her wri ng i s rema rka bl e for i ts s i newy gra ce.” —Ti me “Urs ul a Le Gui n keeps getti ng better a nd better, a nd s he ma y be SF’s bri ghtes t devel opment i n the l a s t deca de.” —Chi ca go Sun-Ti mes Ba nta m Books by Urs ul a K. Le Gui n As k your books el l er for a ny books you ha ve mi s s ed THE EARTHSEA TRILOGY: A WIZARD OF EARTHSEA THE TOMBS OF ATUAN THE FARTHEST SHORE

The Wind's Twelve Quarters Short Stori es by

URSULA K. LE GUIN BANTAM BOOKS TORONTO NEW YORK LONDON

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This low-priced Bantam Book has been completely reset in a type face designed for easy reading, and was printed from new plates. It contains the complete text of the original hard-cover edition. NOT ONE WORD HAS BEEN OMITTED. THE WIND’S TWELVE QUARTERS A Bantam Book / published by arrangement with Harper & Row, Publishers, Inc. PRINTING HISTORY Harper & Row edition published October 1975 Bantam edition / October 1976 2nd printing January 1977 3rd printing September 1977 4th printing March 1979 “SEMLEY's NECKLACE” originally appeared under the tle “THE DOWRY OF THE ANGYAR” in Amazing, 1964. “APRIL IN PARIS” originally appeared in Fantas c, 1962. “THE MASTERS” and “DARKNESS BOX” originally appeared in Fantas c, 1963, “THE WORD OF UNBINDING” and “THE RULE OF NAMES” originally appeared in Fantas c, 1964. “WINTER's KING” originally appeared in Orbit 5, 1969. “THE GOOD TRIP” originally appeared in Fantastic, 1970. “NINE LIVES” originally appeared in Playboy, 1969. “THINGS” originally appeared under the title “THE END” in Orbit 6, 1970. “A TRIP TO THE HEAD” originally appeared in Quark 1, 1970. “VASTER THAN EMPIRES AND MORE SLOW” originally appeared in New Dimensions 1, 1971. “THE STARS BELOW” originally appeared in Orbit 12, 1973. “THE FIELD OF VISION” originally appeared in Galaxy, 1973. “DIRECTION OF THE ROAD” originally appeared in Orbit 14, 1974. “THE ONES WHO WALK AWAY FROM OMELAS” originally appeared in New Dimensions 3, 1973. “THE DAY BEFORE THE REVOLUTION” originally appeared in Galaxy, 1974. Excerpt from A. E. Housman’s A Shropshire Lad reprinted by permission of Cambridge University Press. All rights reserved. Copyright © 1975 by Ursula K. Le Guin. This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part, by mimeograph or any other means, without permission. For information address: Harper & Row, Publishers, Inc. 10 East 53 Street, New York, N.Y. 10022. ISBN 0-553-12842-6 Published simultaneously in the United States and Canada Bantam Books are published by Bantam Books, Inc. Its trademark, consisting of the words “Bantam Books” and the portrayal of a bantam, is Registered in U.S. Patent and Trademark Office and in other countries. Marca Registrada. Bantam Books, Inc., 666 Fifth Avenue, New York, New York 10019. PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

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CONTENTS FOREWORD SEMLEY’S NECKLACE APRIL IN PARIS THE MASTERS DARKNESS BOX THE WORD OF UNBINDING THE RULE OF NAMES WINTER'S KING THE GOOD TRIP NINE LIVES THINGS A TRIP TO THE HEAD VASTER THAN EMPIRES AND MORE SLOW THE STARS BELOW THE FIELD OF VISION DIRECTION OF THE ROAD THE ONES WHO WALK AWAY FROM OMELAS THE DAY BEFORE THE REVOLUTION ABOUT THE AUTHOR

From fa r, from eve a nd morni ng And yon twel ve-wi nded s ky, The s tuff of l i fe to kni t me Bl ew hi ther; here a m I. Now—for a brea th I ta rry Nor yet di s pers e a pa rt— Ta ke my ha nd qui ck a nd tel l me, Wha t ha ve you i n your hea rt. Spea k now, a nd I wi l l a ns wer; How s ha l l I hel p you, s a y; Ere to the wi nd’s twel ve qua rters I ta ke my endl es s wa y. A. E. HOUSMAN: A Shrops hi re La d FOREWORD

Thi s col l ecti on i s wha t pa i nters ca l l a retros pecti ve; i t gi ves a roughl y chronol ogi ca l s urvey of my s hort s tori es duri ng the fi rs t ten yea rs a fter I broke i nto pri nt, bel a ted but unda unted, a t the a ge of thi rty-two. They a ppea r here very roughl y i n the order i n whi ch they were wri en, s o tha t the devel opment of the a r s t ma y become pa rt of the i nteres t of the book. I ha ve not been ri gi d a bout the chronol ogy (i t i s i mpos s i bl e; s tori es ma y be wri en i n one yea r, not publ i s hed un l two or three yea rs l a ter, a nd then pos s i bl y revi s ed, a nd whi ch da te do you us e?) but there a re no s evere di s pl a cements . It i s by no mea ns a compl ete col l ec on of my s tori es . One ea rl y s tory i s l e out beca us e I don’t much l i ke i t; fic on whi ch does n’t fit under the hea di ngs Fa nta s y or Sci ence Fi c on i s not i ncl uded; a nd mos t of my s tori es publ i s hed i n the l a s t few yea rs a re not i n thi s book, beca us e the a nthol ogi es i n whi ch they fi rs t a ppea red a re s ti l l i n pri nt. The l a s t two i n the vol ume, however, a ppea red i n 1973 a nd 1974, s o the s eventeen s tori es do cover the l a s t ten or a dozen yea rs . The rel a on between s hort s tory a nd novel , i ns i de the wri ter’s hea d, i s i nteres ng. “Seml ey’s Neckl a ce,” though a compl ete s tory i n i ts el f, wa s the germ of a novel . I ha d done wi th Seml ey when I fini s hed i t, but there wa s a mi nor cha ra cter, a mere bys ta nder, who di d not s i nk ba ck obedi entl y i nto obs curi ty when the s tory wa s done, but who kept na ggi ng me. “Wri te my s tory,” he s a i d. “I’m Roca nnon. I wa nt to expl ore my worl d....” So I obeyed hi m. You rea l l y ca n’t a rgue wi th thes e peopl e. “Wi nter’s Ki ng” wa s a nother s uch germi na l s tory, a nd s o were “ The Word of Unbi ndi ng” a nd “ The Rul e of Na mes ,” though a l l of them ga ve me the pl a ce, ra ther tha n the pers on, for the novel s to come. The l a s t s tory i n the book i s not a germi na l but a n a utumna l one. It ca me a fter the novel , a fi na l gi ft, recei ved wi th tha nks gi vi ng. Mos t of the s tra i ght na rra ve s tori es i n thi s vol ume a re i n fa ct connected wi th my novel s , i n tha t they fit more or l es s wel l i nto 4

the ra ther erra c “future hi s tory” s cheme whi ch a l l my s ci ence fic on books fol l ow. Thos e tha t don’t fit i n a re the ea rl y fa nta s i es , a nd then l a ter the ones I ca l l ps ychomyths , more or l es s s urrea l i s c ta l es , whi ch s ha re wi th fa nta s y the qua l i ty of ta ki ng pl a ce outs i de a ny hi s tory, outs i de of me, i n tha t regi on of the l i vi ng mi nd whi ch—wi thout i nvoki ng a ny cons i dera on of i mmorta l i ty— s eems to be wi thout s pa ti a l or tempora l l i mi ts a t a l l . Col l ectors mi ght wa nt to know tha t the publ i ca ti ons :

tl es us ed i n thi s vol ume a re my own choi ce, i n s ome ca s es va ryi ng from previ ous

“Seml ey’s Neckl a ce” fi rs t a ppea red a s “Dowry of the Angya r” (a gra mma ti ca l error by the edi tor, who di dn’t s pea k Angyo fl uentl y); Thi ngs ” a ppea red a s “The End”; “ The Fi el d of Vi s i on” a ppea red a s “Fi el d of Vi s i on.” The onl y s tori es tha t ha ve been revi s ed, beyond a n occa s i ona l one-word or one-s entence cha nge a nd res ti tuti on of cuts a nd errors i n the publ i s hed vers i ons , a re: “Wi nter’s Ki ng” (s ee note to the s tory); “Va s ter tha n Empi res a nd More Sl ow” (a cut i n the fi rs t pa ges ); “Ni ne Li ves ” (s ee note to the s tory).

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SEMLEY’S NECKLACE

Thi s s tory, wri en i n 1963, publ i s hed a s “Dowry of the Angya r” i n 1964 a nd a s the Prol ogue of my firs t novel , Roca nnon’s Worl d, i n 1966, wa s a ctua l l y the ei ghth s tory I got pri nted; but i t opens the book beca us e I thi nk i t's the mos t cha ra cteri s c of my ea rl y s ci ence fic on a nd fa nta s y works , the mos t roma n c of them a l l . The progres s of my s tyl e ha s been a wa y from open roma n ci s m, s l owl y a nd s tea di l y, from thi s s tory to the l a s t one i n the vol ume, wri en i n 1972. It ha s been a progres s . I a m s l l a roma n c, no doubt a bout tha t, a nd gl a d of i t, but the ca ndor a nd s i mpl i ci ty of “Seml ey’s Neckl a ce" ha ve gra dua l l y become s omethi ng ha rder, s tronger, a nd more compl ex. How ca n you tel l the l egend from the fa ct on thes e worl ds tha t l i e s o ma ny yea rs a wa y?—pl a nets wi thout na mes , ca l l ed by thei r peopl e s i mpl y The Worl d, pl a nets wi thout hi s tory, where the pa s t i s the ma er of myth, a nd a returni ng expl orer finds hi s own doi ngs of a few yea rs ba ck ha ve become the ges tures of a god. Unrea s on da rkens tha t ga p of me bri dged by our l i ghts peed s hi ps , a nd i n the da rknes s uncerta i nty a nd di s proporti on grow l i ke weeds . In tryi ng to tel l the s tory of a ma n, a n ordi na ry Lea gue s ci en s t, who went to s uch a na mel es s ha l f -known worl d not ma ny yea rs a go, one feel s l i ke a n a rcha eol ogi s t a mi d mi l l enni a l rui ns , now s truggl i ng through choked ta ngl es of l ea f, flower, bra nch a nd vi ne t o the s udden bri ght geometry of a wheel or a pol i s hed corners tone, a nd now enteri ng s ome commonpl a ce, s unl i t doorwa y to fi nd i ns i de i t the da rknes s , the i mpos s i bl e fl i cker of a fl a me, the gl i tter of a jewel , the ha l f-gl i mps ed movement of a woma n’s a rm. How ca n you tel l fa ct from l egend, truth from truth? Through Roca nnon’s s tory the jewel , the bl ue gl i er s een bri efly returns . Wi th i t l et us begi n, here: Ga l a cti c Area 8, No. 62: FOMALHAUT II. Hi gh-Intel l i gence Li fe Forms : Speci es Conta cted: Speci es I. 1.

Gdemi a r (s i ngul a r Gdem): Hi ghl y i ntel l i gent, ful l y homi noi d nocturna l trogl odytes , 120—135 cm. i n hei ght, l i ght s ki n, da rk hea d-ha i r. When conta cted thes e ca ve-dwel l ers pos s es s ed a ri gi dl y s tra fied ol i ga rchi c urba n s oci ety modi fied by pa r a l col oni a l tel epa thy, a nd a technol ogi ca l l y ori ented Ea rl y Steel cul ture. Technol ogy enha nced to Indus tri a l , Poi nt C, duri ng Lea gue Mi s s i on of 252—254. In 254 a n Automa c Dri ve s hi p (to-from New South Georgi a ) wa s pres ented to ol i ga rchs of-the Ki ri ens ea Area communi ty. Sta tus C-Pri me.

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Fi i a (s i ngul a r Fi a n): Hi ghl y i ntel l i gent, ful l y homi noi d, di urna l , a v. ca . 130 cm. i n hei ght, obs erved i ndi vi dua l s genera l l y l i ght i n s ki n a nd ha i r. Bri ef conta cts i ndi ca ted vi l l a ge a nd noma di c communa l s oci e es , pa r a l col oni a l tel epa thy, a l s o s ome i ndi ca on of s hort-ra nge TK. The ra ce a ppea rs a -technol ogi ca l a nd eva s i ve, wi th mi ni ma l a nd flui d cul turepa tterns . Currentl y unta xa bl e. Sta tus E-Query.

Speci es II. Li ua r (s i ngul a r Li u): Hi ghl y i ntel l i gent, ful l y homi noi d, di urna l , a v. hei ght a bove 170 cm., thi s s peci es pos s es s es a fortres s /vi l l a ge, cl a n-des cent s oci ety, a bl ocked technol ogy (Bronze), a nd feuda l -heroi c cul ture. Note hori zonta l s oci a l cl ea va ge i nto 2 ps eudora ces : (a ) Ol gyi or, “mi dmen” l i ght-s ki nned a nd da rk-ha i red; (b) Angya r, “l ords ,” very ta l l , da rk-s ki nned, yel l owha i red-“ Tha t’s her,” s a i d Roca nnon, l ooki ng up from the Abri dged Ha ndy Pocket Gui de to Intel l i gent Li fe-forms a t the very ta l l , da rks ki nned, yel l ow-ha i red woma n who s tood ha l fwa y down the l ong mus eum ha l l . She s tood s l l a nd erect, crowned wi th bri ght ha i r, ga zi ng a t s omethi ng i n a di s pl a y ca s e. Around her fi dgeted four unea s y a nd una ttra cti ve dwa rves . “I di dn’t know Foma l ha ut II ha d a l l thos e peopl e bes i des the trogs ,” s a i d Ketho, the cura tor. “I di dn’t ei ther. There a re even s ome ‘Unconfirmed‘ s peci es l i s ted here, tha t they never conta cted. Sounds l i ke me for a more thorough s urvey mi s s i on to the pl a ce. Wel l , now a t l ea s t we know wha t s he i s .” “I wi s h there were s ome wa y of knowi ng who s he i s ..." She wa s of a n a nci ent fa mi l y, a des cenda nt of the firs t ki ngs of the Angya r, a nd for a l l her poverty her ha i r s hone wi th the pure, s tea dfa s t gol d of her i nheri ta nce. The l i l e peopl e, the Fi i a , bowed when s he pa s s ed them, even when s he wa s a ba refoot chi l d runni ng i n the fi el ds , the l i ght a nd fi ery comet of her ha i r bri ghteni ng the troubl ed wi nds of Ki ri en. She wa s s l l very young when Durha l of Ha l l a n s a w her, courted her, a nd ca rri ed her a wa y from the rui ned towers a nd wi ndy ha l l s of her chi l dhood to hi s own hi gh home. In Ha l l a n on the mounta i ns i de there wa s no comfort ei ther, though s pl endor endured. The wi ndows were ungl a s s ed, the s tone floors ba re; i n col dyea r one mi ght wa ke to s ee the ni ght’s s now i n l ong, l ow dri s benea th ea ch wi ndow. Durha l ’s bri de s tood wi th na rrow ba re feet on the s nowy floor, bra i di ng up the fire of her ha i r a nd l a ughi ng a t her young hus ba nd i n the s i l ver mi rror tha t hung i n thei r room. Tha t mi rror, a nd hi s mother’s bri da l -gown s ewn wi th a thous a nd ny crys ta l s , were a l l hi s wea l th. Some of hi s l es s er ki nfol k of Ha l l a n s l l pos s es s ed wa rdrobes of broca ded cl othi ng, furni ture of gi l ded wood, s i l ver ha rnes s for thei r s teeds , a rmor a nd s i l ver mounted s words , jewel s a nd jewel ry—a nd on thes e l a s t Durha l ’s bri de l ooked envi ous l y, gl a nci ng ba ck a t a gemmed coronet or a gol den brooch even when the wea rer of the orna ment s tood a s i de to l et her pa s s , deferent to her bi rth a nd ma rri a ge-ra nk. Fourth from the Hi gh Sea t of Ha l l a n Revel s a t Durha l a nd hi s bri de Seml ey, s o cl os e to Ha l l a nl ord tha t the ol d ma n o en poured wi ne for Seml ey wi th hi s own ha nd, a nd s poke of hun ng wi th hi s nephew a nd hei r Durha l , l ooki ng on the young pa i r wi th a gri m, unhopeful l ove. Hope ca me ha rd to the Angya r of Ha l l a n a nd a l l the Wes tern La nds , s i nce the Sta rl ords ha d a ppea red wi th thei r hous es tha t l ea ped a bout on pi l l a rs of fire a nd thei r a wful wea pons tha t coul d l evel hi l l s . They ha d i nterfered wi th a l l the 6

ol d wa ys a nd wa rs , a nd though the s ums were s ma l l there wa s terri bl e s ha me to the Angya r i n ha vi ng to pa y a ta x to them, a tri bute for the Sta rl ords ' wa r tha t wa s to be fought wi th s ome s tra nge enemy, s omewhere i n the hol l ow pl a ces between the s ta rs , a t the end of yea rs . “It wi l l be your wa r too,” they s a i d, but for a genera on now the Angya r ha d s a t i n i dl e s ha me i n thei r revel ha l l s , wa tchi ng thei r doubl e s words rus t, thei r s ons grow up wi thout ever s tri ki ng a bl ow i n ba l e, thei r da ughters ma rry poor men, even mi dmen, ha vi ng no dowry of heroi c l oot to bri ng a nobl e hus ba nd. Ha l l a nl ord’s fa ce wa s bl ea k when he wa tched the fa i r-ha i red coupl e a nd hea rd thei r l a ughter a s they dra nk bi er wi ne a nd joked together i n the col d, rui nous , res pl endent fortres s of thei r ra ce. Seml ey’s own fa ce ha rdened when s he l ooked down the ha l l a nd s a w, i n s ea ts fa r bel ow hers , even down a mong the ha l reeds a nd the mi dmen, a ga i ns t whi te s ki ns a nd bl a ck ha i r, the gl ea m a nd fla s h of preci ous s tones . She hers el f ha d brought nothi ng i n dowry to her hus ba nd, not even a s i l ver ha i rpi n. The dres s of a thous a nd crys ta l s s he ha d put a wa y i n a ches t for the weddi ng-da y of her da ughter, i f da ughter i t wa s to be. It wa s , a nd they ca l l ed her Ha l dre, a nd when the fuzz on her l i l e brown s kul l grew l onger i t s hone wi th s tea dfa s t gol d, the i nheri ta nce of the l ordl y genera ti ons , the onl y gol d s he woul d ever pos s es s .... Seml ey di d not s pea k to her hus ba nd of her di s content. For a l l hi s gentl enes s to her, Durha l i n hi s pri de ha d onl y contempt for envy, for va i n wi s hi ng, a nd s he drea ded hi s contempt. But s he s poke to Durha l ’s s i s ter Duros s a . “My fa mi l y ha d a grea t trea s ure once,” s he s a i d. “It wa s a neckl a ce a l l of gol d, wi th the bl ue jewel s et i n the center—s a pphi re?” Duros s a s hook her hea d, s mi l i ng, not s ure of the na me ei ther. It wa s l a te i n wa rmyea r, a s thes e Northern Angya r ca l l ed the s ummer of the ei ght-hundred-da y yea r, begi nni ng the cycl e of months a new a t ea ch equi nox; to Seml ey i t s eemed a n outl a ndi s h ca l enda r, a mi dma nni s h reckoni ng. Her fa mi l y wa s a t a n end, but i t ha d been ol der a nd purer tha n the ra ce of a ny of thes e northwes tern ma rchl a nders , who mi xed too freel y wi th the Ol gyi or. She s a t wi th Duros s a i n the s unl i ght on a s tone wi ndows ea t hi gh up i n the Grea t Tower, where the ol der woma n’s a pa rtment wa s . Wi dowed young, chi l dl es s , Duros s a ha d been gi ven i n s econd ma rri a ge to Ha l l a nl ord, who wa s her fa ther’s brother. Si nce i t wa s a ki nma rri a ge a nd a s econd ma rri a ge on both s i des s he ha d not ta ken the tl e of Ha l l a nl a dy, whi ch Seml ey woul d s ome da y bea r; but s he s a t wi th the ol d l ord i n the Hi gh Sea t a nd rul ed wi th hi m hi s doma i ns . Ol der tha n her brother Durha l , s he wa s fond of hi s young wi fe, a nd del i ghted i n the bri ght-ha i red ba by Ha l dre. “It wa s bought,” Seml ey went on, “wi th a l l the money my forebea r Leynen got when he conquered the Southern Fi efs —a l l the money from a whol e ki ngdom, thi nk of i t, for one jewel ! Oh, i t woul d outs hi ne a nythi ng here i n Ha l l a n, s urel y, even thos e crys ta l s l i ke koob-eggs your cous i n Is s a r wea rs . It wa s s o bea u ful they ga ve i t a na me of i ts own; they ca l l ed i t the Eye of the Sea . My grea t-gra ndmother wore i t.” ‘‘You never s a w i t?” the ol der woma n a s ked l a zi l y, ga zi ng down a t the green mounta i ns l opes where l ong, l ong s ummer s ent i ts hot a nd res tl es s wi nds s tra yi ng a mong the fores ts a nd whi rl i ng down whi te roa ds to the s ea coa s t fa r a wa y. “It wa s l os t before I wa s born.” “No, my fa ther s a i d i t wa s s tol en before the Sta rl ords ever ca me to our rea l m. He woul dn’t ta l k of i t, but there wa s a n ol d mi dwoma n ful l of ta l es who a l wa ys tol d me the Fi i a woul d know where i t wa s .” “Ah, the Fi i a I s houl d l i ke to s ee!” s a i d Duros s a . “ They’re i n s o ma ny s ongs a nd ta l es ; why do they never come to the Wes tern La nds ?” ‘Too hi gh, too col d i n wi nter, I thi nk. They l i ke the s unl i ght of the va l l eys of the s outh.” “Are they l i ke the Cl a yfol k?” “ Thos e I've never s een; they keep a wa y from us i n the s outh. Aren’t they whi te l i ke mi dmen, a nd mi s formed? The Fi i a a re fa i r; they l ook l i ke chi l dren, onl y thi nner, a nd wi s er. Oh, I wonder i f they know where the neckl a ce i s , who s tol e i t a nd where he hi d i t! Thi nk, Duros s a —i f I coul d come i nto Ha l l a n Revel a nd s i t down by my hus ba nd wi th the wea l th of a ki ngdom round my neck, a nd outs hi ne the other women a s he outs hi nes a l l men!” Duros s a bent her hea d a bove the ba by, who s a t s tudyi ng her own brown toes on a fur rug between her mother a nd a unt. “Seml ey i s fool i s h,” s he murmured to the ba by; “Seml ey who s hi nes l i ke a fa l l i ng s ta r, Seml ey whos e hus ba nd l oves no gol d but the gol d of her ha i r....” And Seml ey, l ooki ng out over the green s l opes of s ummer towa rd the di s ta nt s ea , wa s s i l ent. But when a nother col dyea r ha d pa s s ed, a nd the Sta rl ords ha d come a ga i n to col l ect thei r ta xes for the wa r a ga i ns t the worl d’s end—thi s me us i ng a coupl e of dwa rfis h Cl a yfol k a s i nterpreters , a nd s o l ea vi ng a l l the Angya r humi l i a ted to the poi nt of rebel l i on—a nd a nother wa rmyea r too wa s gone, a nd Ha l dre ha d grown i nto a l ovel y, cha eri ng chi l d, Seml ey brought her one morni ng to Duros s a ’s s unl i t room i n the tower. Seml ey wore a n ol d cl oa k of bl ue, a nd the hood covered her ha i r. “Keep Ha l dre for me thes e few da ys , Duros s a ,” s he s a i d, qui ck a nd ca l m. “I’m goi ng s outh to Ki ri en.” “To s ee your fa ther?” “ To find my i nheri ta nce. Your cous i ns of Ha gret Fi ef ha ve been ta un ng Durha l . Even tha t ha l reed Pa rna ca n torment hi m, beca us e Pa rna ’s wi fe ha s a s a ti n coverl et for her bed, a nd a di a mond ea rri ng, a nd three gowns , the dough-fa ced bl a ck-ha i red trol l op! whi l e Durha l ’s wi fe mus t pa tch her gown—” “Is Durha l ’s pri de i n hi s wi fe, or wha t s he wea rs ?” But Seml ey wa s not to be moved. “ The Lords of Ha l l a n a re becomi ng poor men i n thei r own ha l l . I a m goi ng to bri ng my dowry to my l ord, a s one of my l i nea ge s houl d.” 7

“Seml ey! Does Durha l know you’re goi ng?” “My return wi l l be a ha ppy one—tha t much l et hi m know,” s a i d young Seml ey, brea ki ng for a moment i nto her joyful l a ugh; then s he bent to ki s s her da ughter, turned, a nd before Duros s a coul d s pea k, wa s gone l i ke a qui ck wi nd over the floors of s unl i t s tone. Ma rri ed women of the Angya r never rode for s port, a nd Seml ey ha d not been from Ha l l a n s i nce her ma rri a ge; s o now, moun ng the hi gh s a ddl e of a wi nds teed, s he fel t l i ke a gi rl a ga i n, l i ke the wi l d ma i den s he ha d been, ri di ng ha l f-broken s teeds on the north wi nd over the fiel ds of Ki ri en. The bea s t tha t bore her now down from the hi l l s of Ha l l a n wa s of finer breed, s tri ped coa t fi ng s l eek over hol l ow, buoya nt bones , green eyes s l i ed a ga i ns t the wi nd, l i ght a nd mi ghty wi ngs s weepi ng up a nd down to ei ther s i de of Seml ey, revea l i ng a nd hi di ng, revea l i ng a nd hi di ng the cl ouds a bove her a nd the hi l l s bel ow. On the thi rd morni ng s he ca me to Ki ri en a nd s tood a ga i n i n the rui ned courts . Her fa ther ha d been dri nki ng a l l ni ght, a nd, jus t a s i n the ol d da ys , the morni ng s unl i ght poki ng through hi s fa l l en cei l i ngs a nnoyed hi m, a nd the s i ght of hi s da ughter onl y i ncrea s ed hi s a nnoya nce. “Wha t a re you ba ck for?” he growl ed, hi s s wol l en eyes gl a nci ng a t her a nd a wa y. The fiery ha i r of hi s youth wa s quenched, grey s tra nds ta ngl ed on hi s s kul l . “Di d the young Ha l l a not ma rry you, a nd you’ve come s nea ki ng home?” “I a m Durha l ’s wi fe. I ca me to get my dowry, fa ther.” The drunka rd growl ed i n di s gus t; but s he l a ughed a t hi m s o gentl y tha t he ha d to l ook a t her a ga i n, wi nci ng. “Is i t true, fa ther, tha t the Fi i a s tol e the neckl a ce Eye of the Sea ?” “How do I know? Ol d ta l es . The thi ng wa s l os t before I wa s born, I thi nk. I wi s h I never ha d been. As k the Fi i a i f you wa nt to know. Go to them, go ba ck to your hus ba nd. Lea ve me a l one here. There’s no room a t Ki ri en for gi rl s a nd gol d a nd a l l the res t of the s tory. The s tory’s over here; thi s i s the fa l l en pl a ce, thi s i s the empty ha l l . The s ons of Leynen a l l a re dea d, thei r trea s ures a re a l l l os t. Go on your wa y, gi rl .” Grey a nd s wol l en a s the web-s pi nner of mi ned hous es , he turned a nd went bl underi ng towa rd the cel l a rs where he hi d from da yl i ght. Lea di ng the s tri ped wi nds teed of Ha l l a n, Seml ey l e her ol d home a nd wa l ked down the s teep hi l l , pa s t the vi l l a ge of the mi dmen, who greeted her wi th s ul l en res pect, on over fiel ds a nd pa s tures where the grea t, wi ng-cl i pped, ha l f-wi l d heri l or gra zed, to a va l l ey tha t wa s green a s a pa i nted bowl a nd ful l to the bri m wi th s unl i ght. In the deep of the va l l ey l a y the vi l l a ge of the Fi i a , a nd a s s he des cended l ea di ng her s teed the l i l e, s l i ght peopl e ra n up towa rd her from thei r huts a nd ga rdens , l a ughi ng, ca l l i ng out i n fa i nt, thi n voi ces . “Ha i l Ha l l a ’s bri de, Ki ri enl a dy, Wi ndborne, Seml ey the Fa i r!” They ga ve her l ovel y na mes a nd s he l i ked to hea r them, mi ndi ng not a t a l l thei r l a ughter; for they l a ughed a t a l l they s a i d. Tha t wa s her own wa y, to s pea k a nd l a ugh. She s tood ta l l i n her l ong bl ue cl oa k a mong thei r s wi rl i ng wel come. “Ha i l Li gh ol k, Sundwel l ers , Fi i a fri ends of men!” They took her down i nto the vi l l a ge a nd brought her i nto one of thei r a i ry hous es , the ny chi l dren cha s i ng a l ong behi nd. There wa s no tel l i ng the a ge of a Fi a n once he wa s grown; i t wa s ha rd even to tel l one from a nother a nd be s ure, a s they moved a bout qui ck a s moths a round a ca ndl e, tha t s he s poke a l wa ys to the s a me one. But i t s eemed tha t one of them ta l ked wi th her for a whi l e, a s the others fed a nd pe ed her s teed, a nd brought wa ter for her to dri nk, a nd bowl s of frui t from thei r ga rdens of l i l e trees . “It wa s never the Fi i a tha t s tol e the neckl a ce of the Lords of Ki ri en!” cri ed the l i ttl e ma n. “Wha t woul d the Fi i a do wi th gol d, La dy? For us there i s s unl i ght i n wa rmyea r, a nd i n col dyea r the remembra nce of s unl i ght; the yel l ow frui t, the yel l ow l ea ves i n end-s ea s on, the yel l ow ha i r of our l a dy of Ki ri en; no other gol d.” “ Then i t wa s s ome mi dma n s tol e the thi ng?” La ughter ra ng l ong a nd fa i nt a bout her. “How woul d a mi dma n da re? O La dy of Ki ri en, how the grea t jewel wa s s tol en no morta l knows , not ma n nor mi dma n nor Fi a n nor a ny a mong the Seven Fol k. Onl y dea d mi nds know how i t wa s l os t, l ong a go when Ki rel ey the Proud whos e grea t-gra ndda ughter i s Seml ey wa l ked a l one by the ca ves of the s ea . But i t ma y be found perha ps a mong the Sunha ters .” “The Cl a yfol k?” A l ouder burs t of l a ughter, nervous . “Si t wi th us , Seml ey, s unha i red, returned to us from the north.” She s a t wi th them to ea t, a nd they were a s pl ea s ed wi th her gra ci ous nes s a s s he wi th thei rs . But when they hea rd her repea t tha t s he woul d go to the Cl a yfol k to find her i nheri ta nce, i f i t wa s there, they bega n not to l a ugh; a nd l i l e by l i l e there were fewer of them a round her. She wa s a l one a t l a s t wi th perha ps the one s he ha d s poken wi th before the mea l . “Do not go a mong the Cl a yfol k, Seml ey,” he s a i d, a nd for a moment her hea rt fa i l ed her. The Fi a n, dra wi ng hi s ha nd down s l owl y over hi s eyes , ha d da rkened a l l the a i r a bout them. Frui t l a y a s h-whi te on the pl a te; a l l the bowl s of cl ea r wa ter were empty. “In the mounta i ns of the fa r l a nd the Fi i a a nd the Gdemi a r pa rted. Long a go we pa rted,” s a i d the s l i ght, s l l ma n of the Fi i a . “Longer a go we were one. Wha t we a re not, they a re. Wha t we a re, they a re not. Thi nk of the s unl i ght a nd the gra s s a nd the trees tha t bea r frui t, Seml ey; thi nk tha t not a l l roa ds tha t l ea d down l ea d up a s wel l .” “Mi ne l ea ds nei ther down nor up, ki nd hos t, but onl y s tra i ght on to my i nheri ta nce. I wi l l go to i t where i t i s , a nd return wi th i t.” The Fi a n bowed, l a ughi ng a l i ttl e. Outs i de the vi l l a ge s he mounted her s tri ped wi nds teed, a nd, ca l l i ng fa rewel l i n a ns wer to thei r ca l l i ng, ros e up i nto the wi nd of 8

a fternoon a nd fl ew s outhwes twa rd towa rd the ca ves down by the rocky s hores of Ki ri ens ea . She fea red s he mi ght ha ve to wa l k fa r i nto thos e tunnel -ca ves to find the peopl e s he s ought, for i t wa s s a i d the Cl a yfol k never ca me out of thei r ca ves i nto the l i ght of the s un, a nd fea red even the Grea ts ta r a nd the moons . It wa s a l ong ri de; s he l a nded once to l et her s teed hunt tree-ra ts whi l e s he a te a l i l e brea d from her s a ddl e-ba g. The brea d wa s ha rd a nd dry by now a nd ta s ted of l ea ther, yet kept a fa i nt s a vor of i ts ma ki ng, s o tha t for a moment, ea ng i t a l one i n a gl a de of the s outhern fores ts , s he hea rd the qui et tone of a voi ce a nd s a w Durha l ’s fa ce turned to her i n the l i ght of the ca ndl es of Ha l l a n. For a whi l e s he s a t da ydrea mi ng of tha t s tem a nd vi vi d young fa ce, a nd of wha t s he woul d s a y to hi m when s he ca me home wi th a ki ngdom’s ra ns om a round her neck: “I wa nted a gi worthy of my hus ba nd, Lord....” Then s he pres s ed on, but when s he rea ched the coa s t the s un ha d s et, wi th the Grea ts ta r s i nki ng behi nd i t. A mea n wi nd ha d come up from the wes t, s ta r ng a nd gus ng a nd veeri ng, a nd her wi nds teed wa s wea ry figh ng i t. She l et hi m gl i de down on the s a nd. At once he fol ded hi s wi ngs a nd curl ed hi s thi ck, l i ght l i mbs under hi m wi th a thrum of purri ng. Seml ey s tood hol di ng her cl oa k cl os e a t her throa t, s troki ng the s teed’s neck s o tha t he fli cked hi s ea rs a nd purred a ga i n. The wa rm fur comforted her ha nd, but a l l tha t met her eyes wa s grey s ky ful l of s mea rs of cl oud, grey s ea , da rk s a nd. And then runni ng over the s a nd a l ow, da rk crea ture—a nother—a group of them, s qua ng a nd runni ng a nd s toppi ng. She ca l l ed a l oud to them. Though they ha d not s eemed to s ee her, now i n a moment they were a l l a round her. They kept a di s ta nce from her wi nds teed; he ha d s topped purri ng, a nd hi s fur ros e a l i l e under Seml ey’s ha nd. She took up the rei ns , gl a d of hi s protec on but a fra i d of the nervous feroci ty he mi ght di s pl a y. The s tra nge fol k s tood s i l ent, s ta ri ng, thei r thi ck ba re feet pl a nted i n the s a nd. There wa s no mi s ta ki ng them: they were the hei ght of the Fi i a a nd i n a l l el s e a s ha dow, a bl a ck i ma ge of thos e l a ughi ng peopl e. Na ked, s qua t, s ff, wi th l a nk ha i r a nd grey-whi te s ki ns , da mpi s h-l ooki ng l i ke the s ki ns of grubs ; eyes l i ke rocks . “You a re the Cl a yfol k?” “Gdemi a r a re we, peopl e of the Lords of the Rea l ms of Ni ght.” The voi ce wa s unexpectedl y l oud a nd deep, a nd ra ng out pompous through the s a l t, bl owi ng dus k; but, a s wi th the Fi i a , Seml ey wa s not s ure whi ch one ha d s poken. “I greet you, Ni ghtl ords . I a m Seml ey of Ki ri en, Durha l ’s wi fe of Ha l l a n. I come to you s eeki ng my i nheri ta nce, the neckl a ce ca l l ed Eye of the Sea , l os t l ong a go.” “Why do you s eek i t here, Angya ? Here i s onl y s a nd a nd s a l t a nd ni ght.” “Beca us e l os t thi ngs a re known of i n deep pl a ces ,” s a i d Seml ey, qui te rea dy for a pl a y of wi ts , “a nd gol d tha t ca me from ea rth ha s a wa y of goi ng ba ck to the ea rth. And s ome mes the ma de, they s a y, returns to the ma ker.” Thi s l a s t wa s a gues s ; i t hi t the ma rk. “It i s true the neckl a ce Eye of the Sea i s known to us by na me. It wa s ma de i n our ca ves l ong a go, a nd s ol d by us to the Angya r. And the bl ue s tone ca me from the Cl a yfi el ds of our ki n to the ea s t. But thes e a re very ol d ta l es , Angya .” “Ma y I l i s ten to them i n the pl a ces where they a re tol d?” The s qua t peopl e were s i l ent a whi l e, a s i f i n doubt. The grey wi nd bl ew by over the s a nd, da rkeni ng a s the Grea ts ta r s et; the s ound of the s ea l oudened a nd l es s ened. The deep voi ce s poke a ga i n: “Yes , l a dy of the Angya r. You ma y enter the Deep Ha l l s . Come wi th us now.” There wa s a cha nged note i n hi s voi ce, wheedl i ng. Seml ey woul d not hea r i t. She fol l owed the cl a ymen over the s a nd, l ea di ng on a s hort rei n her s ha rp-ta l oned s teed. At the ca ve-mouth, a toothl es s , ya wni ng mouth from whi ch a s nki ng wa rmth s i ghed out, one of the cl a ymen s a i d, “ The a i rbea s t ca nnot come i n.” “Yes ,” s a i d Seml ey. “No,” s a i d the s qua t peopl e. “Yes . I wi l l not l ea ve hi m here. He i s not mi ne to l ea ve. He wi l l not ha rm you, s o l ong a s I hol d hi s rei ns .” “No,” deep voi ces repea ted; but others broke i n, “As you wi l l ,” a nd a er a moment of hes i ta on they went on. The ca ve-mouth s eemed to s na p s hut behi nd them, s o da rk wa s i t under the s tone. They went i n s i ngl e fi l e, Seml ey l a s t. The da rknes s of the tunnel l i ghtened, a nd they ca me under a ba l l of wea k whi te fire ha ngi ng from the roof. Fa rther on wa s a nother, a nd a nother; between them l ong bl a ck worms hung i n fes toons from the rock. As they went on thes e firegl obes were s et cl os er, s o tha t a l l the tunnel wa s l i t wi th a bri ght, col d l i ght. Seml ey’s gui des s topped a t a pa r ng of three tunnel s , a l l bl ocked by doors tha t l ooked to be of i ron. “We s ha l l wa i t, Angya ,” they s a i d, a nd ei ght of them s ta yed wi th her, whi l e three others unl ocked one of the doors a nd pa s s ed through. It fel l to behi nd them wi th a cl a s h. Stra i ght a nd s l l s tood the da ughter of the Angya r i n the whi te, bl a nk l i ght of the l a mps ; her wi nds teed crouched bes i de her, fli cki ng the p of hi s s tri ped ta i l , hi s grea t fol ded wi ngs s rri ng a ga i n a nd a ga i n wi th the checked i mpul s e to fly. In the tunnel behi nd Seml ey the ei ght cl a ymen s qua tted on thei r ha ms , mutteri ng to one a nother i n thei r deep voi ces , i n thei r own tongue. The centra l door s wung cl a ngi ng open. “Let the Angya enter the Rea l m of Ni ght!” cri ed a new voi ce, boomi ng a nd boa s ul , A cl a yma n who wore s ome cl othi ng on hi s thi ck grey body s tood i n the doorwa y, beckoni ng to her. “Enter a nd behol d the wonders of our l a nds , the ma rvel s ma de by ha nds , the works of the Ni ghtl ords !” Si l ent, wi th a tug a t her s teed’s rei ns , Seml ey bowed her hea d a nd fol l owed hi m under the l ow doorwa y ma de for dwa rfis h fol k. Another gl a ri ng tunnel s tretched a hea d, da nk wa l l s da zzl i ng i n the whi te l i ght, but, i ns tea d of a wa y to wa l k upon, i ts floor 9

ca rri ed two ba rs of pol i s hed i ron s tretchi ng off s i de by s i de a s fa r a s s he coul d s ee. On the ba rs res ted s ome ki nd of ca rt wi th meta l wheel s . Obeyi ng her new gui de’s ges tures , wi th no hes i ta on a nd no tra ce of wonder on her fa ce, Seml ey s tepped i nto the ca rt a nd ma de the wi nds teed crouch bes i de her. The cl a yma n got i n a nd s a t down i n front of her, movi ng ba rs a nd wheel s a bout. A l oud gri ndi ng noi s e a ros e, a nd a s crea mi ng of meta l on meta l , a nd then the wa l l s of the tunnel bega n to jerk by. Fa s ter a nd fa s ter the wa l l s s l i d pa s t, l l the fire-gl obes overhea d ra n i nto a bl ur, a nd the s ta l e wa rm a i r beca me a foul wi nd bl owi ng the hood ba ck off her ha i r. The ca rt s topped. Seml ey fol l owed the gui de up ba s a l t s teps i nto a va s t a nteroom a nd then a s l l va s ter ha l l , ca rved by a nci ent wa ters or by the burrowi ng Cl a yfol k out of the rock, i ts da rknes s tha t ha d never known s unl i ght l i t wi th the unca nny col d bri l l i a nce of the gl obes . In gri l l es cut i n the wa l l s huge bl a des turned a nd turned, cha ngi ng the s ta l e a i r. The grea t cl os ed s pa ce hummed a nd boomed wi th noi s e, the l oud voi ces of the Cl a yfol k, the gri ndi ng a nd s hri l l buzzi ng a nd vi bra on of turni ng bl a des a nd wheel s , the echoes a nd re-echoes of a l l thi s from the rock. Here a l l the s tumpy figures of the cl a ymen were cl othed i n ga rments i mi ta ng thos e of the Sta rl ords —di vi ded trous ers , s o boots , a nd hooded tuni cs —though the few women to be s een, hurryi ng s ervi l e dwa rves , were na ked. Of the ma l es ma ny were s ol di ers , bea ri ng a t thei r s i des wea pons s ha ped l i ke the terri bl e l i ght-throwers of the Sta rl ords , though even Seml ey coul d s ee thes e were merel y s ha ped i ron cl ubs . Wha t s he s a w, s he s a w wi thout l ooki ng. She fol l owed where s he wa s l ed, turni ng her hea d nei ther to l e nor ri ght. When s he ca me before a group of cl a ymen who wore i ron ci rcl ets on thei r bl a ck ha i r her gui de ha l ted, bowed, boomed out, “The Hi gh Lords of the Gdemi a r!” There were s even of them, a nd a l l l ooked up a t her wi th s uch a rroga nce on thei r l umpy grey fa ces tha t s he wa nted to l a ugh. “I come a mong you s eeki ng the l os t trea s ure of my fa mi l y, O Lords of the Da rk Rea l m,” s he s a i d gra vel y to them. “I s eek Leynen’s pri ze, the Eye of the Sea .” Her voi ce wa s fa i nt i n the ra cket of the huge va ul t. “So s a i d our mes s engers , La dy Seml ey.” Thi s me s he coul d pi ck out the one who s poke, one even s horter tha n the others , ha rdl y rea chi ng Seml ey’s brea s t, wi th a whi te, fi erce fa ce. “We do not ha ve thi s thi ng you s eek.” “Once you ha d i t, i t i s s a i d.” “Much i s s a i d, up there where the s un bl i nks .” “And words a re borne off by the wi nds , where there a re wi nds to bl ow. I do not a s k how the neckl a ce wa s l os t to us a nd returned to you, i ts ma kers of ol d. Thos e a re ol d ta l es , ol d grudges . I onl y s eek to find i t now. You do not ha ve i t now; but i t ma y be you know where i t i s .” “It i s not here.” “Then i t i s el s ewhere.” “It i s where you ca nnot come to i t. Never, unl es s we hel p you.” “Then hel p me. I a s k thi s a s your gues t.” “It i s s a i d, The Angya r ta ke; the Fi i a gi ve; the Gdemi a r gi ve a nd ta ke. If we do thi s for you, wha t wi l l you gi ve us ?” “My tha nks , Ni ghtl ord.” She s tood ta l l a nd bri ght a mong them, s mi l i ng. They a l l s ta red a t her wi th a hea vy, grudgi ng wonder, a s ul l en yea rni ng. “Li s ten, Angya , thi s i s a grea t fa vor you a s k of us . You do not know how grea t a fa vor. You ca nnot unders ta nd. You a re of a ra ce tha t wi l l not unders ta nd, tha t ca res for nothi ng but wi nd-ri di ng a nd crop-ra i s i ng a nd s word-figh ng a nd s hou ng together. But who ma de your s words of the bri ght s teel ? We, the Gdemi a r! Your l ords come to us here a nd i n the Cl a yfiel ds a nd buy thei r s words a nd go a wa y, not l ooki ng, not unders ta ndi ng. But you a re here now, you wi l l l ook, you ca n s ee a few of our endl es s ma rvel s , the l i ghts tha t burn forever, the ca r tha t pul l s i ts el f, the ma chi nes tha t ma ke our cl othes a nd cook our food a nd s weeten our a i r a nd s erve us i n a l l thi ngs . Know tha t a l l thes e thi ngs a re beyond your unders ta ndi ng. And know thi s : we, the Gdemi a r, a re the fri ends of thos e you ca l l the Sta rl ords ! We ca me wi th them to Ha l l a n, to Reoha n, to Hul -Orren, to a l l your ca s tl es , to hel p them s pea k to you. The l ords to whom you, the proud Angya r, pa y tri bute, a re our fri ends . They do us fa vors a s we do them fa vors ! Now, wha t do your tha nks mea n to us ?” “ Tha t i s your ques on to a ns wer,” s a i d Seml ey, “not mi ne. I ha ve a s ked my ques ti on. Ans wer i t, Lord.” For a whi l e the s even conferred together, by word a nd s i l ence. They woul d gl a nce a t her a nd l ook a wa y, a nd mu er a nd be s l l . A crowd grew a round them, dra wn s l owl y a nd s i l entl y, one a er a nother l l Seml ey wa s enci rcl ed by hundreds of the ma ed bl a ck hea ds , a nd a l l the grea t boomi ng ca vern floor wa s covered wi th peopl e, except a l i l e s pa ce di rectl y a round her. Her wi nds teed wa s qui veri ng wi th fea r a nd i rri ta on too l ong control l ed, a nd hi s eyes ha d gone very wi de a nd pa l e, l i ke the eyes of a s teed forced to fly a t ni ght. She s troked the wa rm fur of hi s hea d, whi s peri ng, “Qui etl y now, bra ve one, bri ght one, wi ndl ord....” “Angya , we wi l l ta ke you to the pl a ce where the trea s ure l i es .” The cl a yma n wi th the whi te fa ce a nd i ron crown ha d turned to her once more. “More tha n tha t we ca nnot do. You mus t come wi th us to cl a i m the neckl a ce where i t l i es , from thos e who keep i t. The a i r-bea s t ca nnot come wi th you. You mus t come a l one.” “How fa r a journey, Lord?” Hi s l i ps drew ba ck a nd ba ck. “A very fa r journey, La dy. Yet i t wi l l l a s t onl y one l ong ni ght.” “I tha nk you for your courtes y. Wi l l my s teed be wel l ca red for thi s ni ght? No i l l mus t come to hi m.” “He wi l l s l eep l l you return. A grea ter wi nds teed you wi l l ha ve ri dden, when you s ee tha t bea s t a ga i n! Wi l l you not a s k where we ta ke you?” “Ca n we go s oon on thi s journey? I woul d not s ta y l ong a wa y from my home.” 10

“Yes . Soon.” Aga i n the grey l i ps wi dened a s he s ta red up i nto her fa ce. Wha t wa s done i n thos e next hours Seml ey coul d not ha ve retol d; i t wa s a l l ha s te, jumbl e, noi s e, s tra ngenes s . Whi l e s he hel d her s teed’s hea d a cl a yma n s tuck a l ong needl e i nto the gol den-s tri ped ha unch. She nea rl y cri ed out a t the s i ght, but her s teed merel y twi tched a nd then, purri ng, fel l a s l eep. He wa s ca rri ed off by a group of Cl a yfol k who cl ea rl y ha d to s ummon up thei r coura ge to touch hi s wa rm fur. La ter on s he ha d to s ee a needl e dri ven i nto her own a rm—perha ps to tes t her coura ge, s he thought, for i t di d not s eem to ma ke her s l eep; though s he wa s not qui te s ure. There were mes s he ha d to tra vel i n the ra i l ca rts , pa s s i ng i ron doors a nd va ul ted ca verns by the hundred a nd hundred; once the ra i l -ca rt ra n through a ca vern tha t s tretched off on ei ther ha nd mea s urel es s i nto the da rk, a nd a l l tha t da rknes s wa s ful l of grea t flocks of heri l or. She coul d hea r thei r cooi ng, hus ky ca l l s , a nd gl i mps e the flocks i n the front-l i ghts of the ca rt; then s he s a w s ome more cl ea rl y i n the whi te l i ght, a nd s a w tha t they were a l l wi ngl es s , a nd a l l bl i nd. At tha t s he s hut her eyes . But there were more tunnel s to go through, a nd a l wa ys more ca verns , more grey l umpy bodi es a nd fierce fa ces a nd boomi ng boa s ng voi ces , un l a t l a s t they l ed her s uddenl y out i nto the open a i r. It wa s ful l ni ght; s he ra i s ed her eyes joyful l y to the s ta rs a nd the s i ngl e moon s hi ni ng, l i l e Hel i ki bri ghteni ng i n the wes t. But the Cl a yfol k were a l l a bout her s l l , ma ki ng her cl i mb now i nto s ome new ki nd of ca rt or ca ve, s he di d not know whi ch. It wa s s ma l l , ful l of l i l e bl i nki ng l i ghts l i ke rus hl i ghts , very na rrow a nd s hi ni ng a er the grea t da nk ca verns a nd the s ta rl i t ni ght. Now a nother needl e wa s s tuck i n her, a nd they tol d her s he woul d ha ve to be ed down i n a s ort of fla t cha i r, ed down hea d a nd ha nd a nd foot. “I wi l l not,” s a i d Seml ey. But when s he s a w tha t the four Cl a ymen who were to be her gui des l et thems el ves be ti ed down fi rs t, s he s ubmi tted. The others l e . There wa s a roa ri ng s ound, a nd a l ong s i l ence; a grea t wei ght tha t coul d not be s een pres s ed upon her. Then there wa s no wei ght; no s ound; nothi ng a t a l l . “Am I dea d?” a s ked Seml ey. “Oh, no, La dy,” s a i d a voi ce s he di d not l i ke. Openi ng her eyes , s he s a w the whi te fa ce bent over her, the wi de l i ps pul l ed ba ck, the eyes l i ke l i l e s tones . Her bonds ha d fa l l en a wa y from her, a nd s he l ea ped up. She wa s wei ghtl es s , bodi l es s ; s he fel t hers el f onl y a gus t of terror on the wi nd. “We wi l l not hurt you,” s a i d the s ul l en voi ce or voi ces . “Onl y l et us touch you, La dy. We woul d l i ke to touch your ha i r. Let us touch your ha i r....” The round ca rt they were i n trembl ed a l i l e. Outs i de i ts one wi ndow l a y bl a nk ni ght, or wa s i t mi s t, or nothi ng a t a l l ? One l ong ni ght, they ha d s a i d. Very l ong. She s a t moti onl es s a nd endured the touch of thei r hea vy grey ha nds on her ha i r. La ter they woul d touch her ha nds a nd feet a nd a rms , a nd once her throa t: a t tha t s he s et her teeth a nd s tood up, a nd they drew ba ck. “We ha ve not hurt you, La dy,” they s a i d. She s hook her hea d. When they ba de her, s he l a y down a ga i n i n the cha i r tha t bound her down; a nd when l i ght fla s hed gol den, a t the wi ndow, s he woul d ha ve wept a t the s i ght, but fa i nted fi rs t. “Wel l ,” s a i d Roca nnon, “now a t l ea s t we know wha t s he i s .” “I wi s h there were s ome wa y of knowi ng who s he i s ,” the cura tor mumbl ed. “She wa nts s omethi ng we’ve got here i n the Mus eum, i s tha t wha t the trogs s a y?” “Now, don’t ca l l ’em trogs ,” Roca nnon s a i d cons ci en ous l y; a s a hi l fer, a n ethnol ogi s t of the Hi gh Intel l i gence Li fe-forms , he wa s s uppos ed to res i s t s uch words . “They’re not pretty, but they’re Sta tus C Al l i es . ...I wonder why the Commi s s i on pi cked them to devel op? Before even conta c ng a l l the HILF s peci es ? I’l l bet the s urvey wa s from Centa urus —Centa ura ns a l wa ys l i ke nocturna l s a nd ca ve dwel l ers . I’d ha ve ba cked Speci es II, here, I thi nk.” “The trogl odytes s eem to be ra ther i n a we of her.” “Aren’t you?” Ketho gl a nced a t the ta l l woma n a ga i n, then reddened a nd l a ughed. “Wel l , i n a wa y. I never s a w s uch a bea u ful a l i en type i n ei ghteen yea rs here on New South Georgi a . I never s a w s uch a bea u ful woma n a nywhere, i n fa ct. She l ooks l i ke a goddes s .” The red now rea ched the top of hi s ba l d hea d, for Ketho wa s a s hy cura tor, not gi ven to hyperbol e. But Roca nnon nodded s oberl y, a greei ng. “I wi s h we coul d ta l k to her wi thout thos e tr— Gdemi a r a s i nterpreters . But there’s no hel p for i t.” Roca nnon went towa rd thei r vi s i tor, a nd when s he turned her s pl endi d fa ce to hi m he bowed down very deepl y, goi ng ri ght down to the floor on one knee, hi s hea d bowed a nd hi s eyes s hut. Thi s wa s wha t he ca l l ed hi s Al l -Purpos e Intercul tura l Curts ey, a nd he performed i t wi th s ome gra ce. When he ca me erect a ga i n the bea uti ful woma n s mi l ed a nd s poke. “She s a y, Ha i l , Lord of Sta rs ,” growl ed one of her s qua t es corts i n Pi dgi n-Ga l a cti c. “Ha i l , La dy of the Angya r,” Roca nnon repl i ed. “In wha t wa y ca n we of the Mus eum s erve the l a dy?” Acros s the trogl odytes growl i ng her voi ce ra n l i ke a bri ef s i l ver wi nd. “She s a y, Pl ea s e gi ve her neckl a ce whi ch trea s ure her bl ood-ki n-forebea rs l ong l ong." “Whi ch neckl a ce?” he a s ked, a nd unders ta ndi ng hi m, s he poi nted to the centra l di s pl a y of the ca s e before them, a ma gni ficent thi ng, a cha i n of yel l ow gol d, ma s s i ve but very del i ca te i n workma ns hi p, s et wi th one bi g hot-bl ue s a pphi re. Roca nnon’s 11

eyebrows went up, a nd Ketho a t hi s s houl der murmured, “She’s got good ta s te. Tha t’s the Foma l ha ut Neckl a ce—fa mous bi t of work.” She s mi l ed a t the two men, a nd a ga i n s poke to them over the hea ds of the trogl odytes . “She s a y, O Sta rl ords , El der a nd Younger Dwel l ers i n Hous e of Trea s ures , thi s trea s ure her one. Long l ong ti me. Tha nk you.” “How di d we get the thi ng, Ketho?" “Wa i t; l et me l ook i t up i n the ca ta l ogue. I’ve got i t here. Here. It ca me from thes e trogs —trol l s —wha tever they a re: Gdemi a r. They ha ve a ba rga i n-obs es s i on, i t s a ys ; we ha d to l et ’em buy the s hi p they ca me here on, a n AD-4. Thi s wa s pa rt pa yment. It’s thei r own ha ndi work.” “And I’l l bet they ca n’t do thi s ki nd of work a nymore, s i nce they’ve been s teered to Indus tri a l .” “But they s eem to feel the thi ng i s hers , not thei rs or ours . It mus t be i mporta nt, Roca nnon, or they woul dn’t ha ve gi ven up thi s ti me-s pa n to her erra nd. Why, the objecti ve l a ps e between here a nd Foma l ha ut mus t be cons i dera bl e!” “Severa l yea rs , no doubt,” s a i d the hi l fer, who wa s us ed to s ta rjumpi ng. “Not very fa r. Wel l , nei ther the Ha ndbook nor the Gui de gi ves me enough da ta to ba s e a decent gues s on. Thes e s peci es obvi ous l y ha ven’t been properl y s tudi ed a t a l l . The l i l e fel l ows ma y be s howi ng her s i mpl e courtes y. Or a n i nters peci es wa r ma y depend on thi s da mn s a pphi re. Perha ps her des i re rul es them, beca us e they cons i der thems el ves tota l l y i nferi or to her. Or des pi te a ppea ra nces s he ma y be thei r pri s oner, thei r decoy. How ca n we tel l ?... Ca n you gi ve the thi ng a wa y, Ketho?” “Oh, yes . Al l the Exo ca a re techni ca l l y on l oa n, not our property, s i nce thes e cl a i ms come up now a nd then. We s el dom a rgue. Pea ce a bove a l l , unti l the Wa r comes ....” “Then I’d s a y gi ve i t to her.” Ketho s mi l ed. “It’s a pri vi l ege,” he s a i d. Unl ocki ng the ca s e, he l i ed out the grea t gol den cha i n; then, i n hi s s hynes s , he hel d i t out to Roca nnon, s a yi ng, “You gi ve i t to her.” So the bl ue jewel fi rs t l a y, for a moment, i n Roca nnon’s ha nd. Hi s mi nd wa s not on i t; he turned s tra i ght to the bea u ful , a l i en woma n, wi th hi s ha ndful of bl ue fire a nd gol d. She di d not ra i s e her ha nds to ta ke i t, but bent her hea d, a nd he s l i pped the neckl a ce over her ha i r. It l a y l i ke a burni ng fus e a l ong her gol den-brown throa t. She l ooked up from i t wi th s uch pri de, del i ght, a nd gra tude i n her fa ce tha t Roca nnon s tood wordl es s , a nd the l i l e cura tor murmured hurri edl y i n hi s own l a ngua ge, “You’re wel come, you’re very wel come.” She bowed her gol den hea d to hi m a nd to Roca nnon. Then, turni ng, s he nodded to her s qua t gua rds —or ca ptors ? —a nd, dra wi ng her worn bl ue cl oa k a bout her, pa ced down the l ong ha l l a nd wa s gone. Ketho a nd Roca nnon s tood l ooki ng a fter her. “Wha t I feel ...” Roca nnon bega n. “Wel l ?” Ketho i nqui red hoa rs el y, a er a l ong pa us e. “Wha t I feel s ome mes i s tha t I... mee ng thes e peopl e from worl ds we know s o l i l e of, you know, s ome mes ... tha t I ha ve a s i t were bl undered through the corner of a l egend, or a tra gi c myth, ma ybe, whi ch I do not unders ta nd....” “Yes ,” s a i d the cura tor, cl ea ri ng hi s throa t. “I wonder... I wonder wha t her na me i s .” Seml ey the Fa i r, Seml ey the Gol den, Seml ey of the Neckl a ce. The Cl a yfol k ha d bent to her wi l l , a nd s o ha d even the Sta rl ords i n tha t terri bl e pl a ce where the Cl a yfol k ha d ta ken her, the ci ty a t the end of the ni ght. They ha d bowed to her, a nd gi ven her gl a dl y her trea s ure from a mongs t thei r own. But s he coul d not yet s ha ke off the feel i ng of thos e ca verns a bout her where rock l owered overhea d, where you coul d not tel l who s poke or wha t they di d, where voi ces boomed a nd grey ha nds rea ched out— Enough of tha t. She ha d pa i d for the neckl a ce; very wel l . Now i t wa s hers . The pri ce wa s pa i d, the pa s t wa s the pa s t. Her wi nds teed ha d crept out of s ome ki nd of box, wi th hi s eyes fil my a nd hi s fur ri med wi th i ce, a nd a t firs t when they ha d l e the ca ves of the Gdemi a r he woul d not fly. Now he s eemed a l l ri ght a ga i n, ri di ng a s mooth s outh wi nd through the bri ght s ky towa rd Ha l l a n. “Go qui ck, go qui ck,” s he tol d hi m, begi nni ng to l a ugh a s the wi nd cl ea red a wa y her mi nd’s da rknes s . “I wa nt to s ee Durha l s oon, s oon....” And s wi l y they flew, comi ng to Ha l l a n by dus k of the s econd da y. Now the ca ves of the Cl a yfol k s eemed no more tha n l a s t yea r’s ni ghtma re, a s the s teed s wooped wi th her up the thous a nd s teps of Ha l l a n a nd a cros s the Cha s mbri dge where the fores ts fel l a wa y for a thous a nd feet. In the gol d l i ght of eveni ng i n the fl i ghtcourt s he di s mounted a nd wa l ked up the l a s t s teps between the s ff ca rven figures of heroes a nd the two ga tewa rds , who bowed to her, s ta ri ng a t the bea u ful , fiery thi ng a round her neck. In the Foreha l l s he s topped a pa s s i ng gi rl , a very pre y gi rl , by her l ooks one of Durha l ’s cl os e ki n, though Seml ey coul d not ca l l to mi nd her na me. “Do you know me, ma i den? I a m Seml ey, Durha l ’s wi fe. Wi l l you go tel l the La dy Duros s a tha t I ha ve come ba ck?” For s he wa s a fra i d to go i n a nd perha ps fa ce Durha l a t once, a l one; s he wa nted Duros s a ’s s upport. The gi rl wa s ga zi ng a t her, her fa ce very s tra nge. But s he murmured, “Yes , La dy,” a nd da rted off towa rd the Tower. Seml ey s tood wa i ng i n the gi l t, rui nous ha l l . No one ca me by; were they a l l a t ta bl e i n the Revel -ha l l ? The s i l ence wa s unea s y. A er a mi nute Seml ey s ta rted towa rd the s ta i rs to the Tower. But a n ol d woma n wa s comi ng to her a cros s the s tone floor, hol di ng her a rms out, weepi ng. 12

“Oh Seml ey, Seml ey!” She ha d never s een the grey-ha i red woma n, a nd s hra nk ba ck. “But La dy, who a re you?” “I a m Duros s a , Seml ey.” She wa s qui et a nd s l l , a l l the me tha t Duros s a embra ced her a nd wept, a nd a s ked i f i t were true the Cl a yfol k ha d ca ptured her a nd kept her under a s pel l a l l thes e l ong yea rs , or ha d i t been the Fi i a wi th thei r s tra nge a rts ? Then, dra wi ng ba ck a l i l e, Duros s a cea s ed to weep. “You’re s ti l l young, Seml ey. Young a s the da y you l eft here. And you wea r round your neck the neckl a ce....” “I ha ve brought my gi ft to my hus ba nd Durha l . Where i s he?” “Durha l i s dea d.” Seml ey s tood unmovi ng. “Your hus ba nd, my brother, Durha l Ha l l a nl ord wa s ki l l ed s even yea rs a go i n ba l e. Ni ne yea rs you ha d been gone. The Sta rl ords ca me no more. We fel l to wa rri ng wi th the Ea s tern Ha l l s , wi th the Angya r of Log a nd Hul -Orren. Durha l , figh ng, wa s ki l l ed by a mi dma n’s s pea r, for he ha d l i l e a rmor for hi s body, a nd none a t a l l for hi s s pi ri t. He l i es buri ed i n the fiel ds a bove Orren Ma rs h.” Seml ey turned a wa y. “I wi l l go to hi m, then,” s he s a i d, pu ng her ha nd on the gol d cha i n tha t wei ghed down her neck. “I wi l l gi ve hi m my gi ft.” “Wa i t, Seml ey! Durha l ’s da ughter, your da ughter, s ee her now, Ha l dre the Bea uti ful !” It wa s the gi rl s he ha d firs t s poken to a nd s ent to Duros s a , a gi rl of ni neteen or s o, wi th eyes l i ke Durha l ’s eyes , da rk bl ue. She s tood bes i de Duros s a , ga zi ng wi th thos e s tea dy eyes a t thi s woma n Seml ey who wa s her mother a nd wa s her own a ge. Thei r a ge wa s the s a me, a nd thei r gol d ha i r, a nd thei r bea uty. Onl y Seml ey wa s a l i ttl e ta l l er, a nd wore the bl ue s tone on her brea s t. “ Ta ke i t, ta ke i t. It wa s for Durha l a nd Ha l dre tha t I brought i t from the end of the l ong ni ght!” Seml ey cri ed thi s a l oud, twi s ng a nd bowi ng her hea d to get the hea vy cha i n off, droppi ng the neckl a ce s o i t fel l on the s tones wi th a col d, l i qui d cl a s h. “O ta ke i t, Ha l dre!” s he cri ed a ga i n, a nd then, weepi ng a l oud, turned a nd ra n from Ha l l a n, over the bri dge a nd down the l ong, broa d s teps , a nd da rti ng off ea s twa rd i nto the fores t of the mounta i ns i de l i ke s ome wi l d thi ng es ca pi ng, wa s gone. APRIL IN PARIS

Thi s i s the firs t s tory I ever got pa i d for; the s econd s tory I ever got publ i s hed; a nd ma ybe the thi r eth or for eth s tory I wrote. I ha d been wri ng poetry a nd fic on ever s i nce my brother Ted, red of ha vi ng a n i l l i tera te five-yea r-ol d s i s ter a round, ta ught me to rea d. At a bout twenty I bega n s endi ng thi ngs off to publ i s hers . Some of the poetry got pri nted, but I di dn’t get s ys tema c a bout s endi ng out the fi cti on ti l l I wa s getti ng on to thi rty. It kept s ys tema ti ca l l y comi ng ba ck. "Apri l i n Pa ri s * wa s the firs t "genre” pi ece— recogni za bl y fa nta s y or s ci ence fic on—tha t I ha d wri en s i nce 1942, when I wrote a n Ori gi n-of-Li fe-on-Ea rth s tory for As toundi ng, whi ch for s ome i nconcei va bl e rea s on rejected i t (I never di d s ynch wi th John Ca mpbel l ). At a ge twel ve I wa s very pl ea s ed to get a genui ne pri nted rejec on s l i p, but by a ge thi rty-two I wa s very pl ea s ed to get a check. “Profes s i ona l i s m” i s no vi rtue; a profes s i ona l i s s i mpl y one who gets pa i d for doi ng wha t a n a ma teur does for l ove. But i n a money economy, the fa ct of bei ng pa i d mea ns your work i s goi ng to be ci rcul a ted, i s goi ng to be rea d; i t's the mea ns to communi ca on, whi ch i s the a r s t’s goa l . Cel e Gol ds mi th La l l i , who bought thi s s tory i n 1962, wa s a s enterpri s i ng a nd percepti ve a n edi tor a s the s ci ence fi cti on ma ga zi nes ha ve ever ha d, a nd I a m gra teful to her for openi ng the door to me. Profes s or Ba rry Pennywi ther s a t i n a col d, s ha dowy ga rret a nd s ta red a t the ta bl e i n front of hi m, on whi ch l a y a book a nd a brea dcrus t. The brea d ha d been hi s di nner, the book ha d been hi s l i fework. Both were dry. Dr. Pennywi ther s i ghed, a nd then s hi vered. Though the l ower-floor a pa rtments of the ol d hous e were qui te el ega nt, the hea t wa s turned off on Apri l 1s t, come wha t ma y; i t wa s now Apri l 2nd, a nd s l ee ng. If Dr. Pennywi ther ra i s ed hi s hea d a l i l e he coul d s ee from hi s wi ndow the two s qua re towers of Notre Da me de Pa ri s , va gue a nd s oa ri ng i n the dus k, a l mos t nea r enough to touch: for the Is l a nd of Sa i ntLoui s , where he l i ved, i s l i ke a l i l e ba rge bei ng towed downs trea m behi nd the Is l a nd of the Ci ty, where Notre Da me s ta nds . But he di d not ra i s e hi s hea d. He wa s too col d. The grea t towers s a nk i nto da rknes s . Dr. Pennywi ther s a nk i nto gl oom. He s ta red wi th l oa thi ng a t hi s book. It ha d won hi m a yea r i n Pa ri s —publ i s h or peri s h, s a i d the Dea n of Fa cul es , a nd he ha d publ i s hed, a nd been rewa rded wi th a yea r’s l ea ve from tea chi ng, wi thout pa y. Muns on Col l ege coul d not a fford to pa y untea chi ng tea chers . So on hi s s cra ped-up s a vi ngs he ha d come ba ck to Pa ri s , to l i ve a ga i n a s a s tudent i n a ga rret, to rea d fi eenth-century ma nus cri pts a t the Li bra ry, to s ee the ches tnuts flower a l ong the a venues . But i t ha dn’t worked. He wa s forty, too ol d for l onel y ga rrets . The s l eet woul d bl i ght the buddi ng ches tnut flowers . And he wa s s i ck of hi s work. Who ca red a bout hi s theory, the Pennywi ther Theory, concerni ng the mys teri ous di s a ppea ra nce of the poet Fra ncoi s Vi l l on i n 1463? Nobody. For a er a l l hi s Theory a bout poor Vi l l on, the grea tes t juveni l e del i nquent of a l l me, wa s onl y a theory a nd coul d never be proved, not a cros s the gul f of five hundred yea rs . Nothi ng coul d be proved. And bes i des , wha t di d i t ma er i f Vi l l on di ed on Mon a ucon ga l l ows or (a s Pennywi ther thought) i n a Lyons brothel on the Wa y to Ita l y? Nobody ca red. Nobody el s e l oved Vi l l on enough. Nobody l oved Dr. Pennywi ther, ei ther; not even Dr. Pennywi ther. Why s houl d he? An uns oci a l , unma rri ed, underpa i d peda nt, s i ng here a l one i n a n unhea ted a c i n a n unres tored tenement tryi ng to wri te a nother unrea da bl e book. “I’m unrea l i s c,” he s a i d a l oud wi th a nother s i gh a nd a nother s hi ver. He got up a nd took the bl a nket off hi s bed, wra pped hi ms el f i n i t, s a t down thus bundl ed a t the ta bl e, a nd tri ed to l i ght a Ga ul oi s e Bl eue. Hi s l i ghter s na pped va i nl y. He s i ghed once more, got up, fetched a ca n of vi l e-s mel l i ng French l i ghter flui d, s a t down, rewra pped hi s cocoon, fil l ed the l i ghter, a nd s na pped i t. The flui d ha d s pi l l ed a round a good bi t. The l i ghter l i t, s o 13

di d Dr. Pennywi ther, from the wri s ts down. “Oh hel l !” he cri ed, bl ue fl a mes l ea pi ng from hi s knuckl es , a nd jumped up ba tti ng hi s a rms wi l dl y, s hou ng “Hel l !” a nd ra gi ng a ga i ns t Des ny. Nothi ng ever went ri ght. Wha t wa s the us e? It wa s then 8:12 on the ni ght of Apri l 2nd, 1961. A ma n s a t hunched a t a ta bl e i n a col d, hi gh room. Through the wi ndow behi nd hi m the two s qua re towers of Notre Da me l oomed i n the Spri ng dus k. In front of hi m on the ta bl e l a y a hunk of chees e a nd a huge, i ron-l a tched, ha ndwri en book. The book wa s ca l l ed (i n La ti n) On the Pri ma cy of the El ement Fi re over the Other Three El ements . Its a uthor s ta red a t i t wi th l oa thi ng. Nea rby on a s ma l l i ron s tove a s ma l l a l embi c s i mmered. Jeha n Lenoi r mecha ni ca l l y i nched hi s cha i r nea rer the s tove now a nd then, for wa rmth, but hi s thoughts were on deeper probl ems . “Hel l !” he s a i d fina l l y (i n La te Medi a eva l French), s l a mmed the book s hut, a nd got up. Wha t i f hi s theory wa s wrong? Wha t i f wa ter were the pri ma l el ement? How coul d you prove thes e thi ngs ? There mus t be s ome wa y—s ome method —s o tha t one coul d be s ure, a bs ol utel y s ure, of one s i ngl e fa ct! But ea ch fa ct l ed i nto others , a mons trous ta ngl e, a nd the Authori es confli cted, a nd a nywa y no one woul d rea d hi s book, not even the wretched peda nts a t the Sorbonne. They s mel l ed heres y. Wha t wa s the us e? Wha t good thi s l i fe s pent i n poverty a nd a l one, when he ha d l ea rned nothi ng, merel y gues s ed a nd theori zed? He s trode a bout the ga rret, ra gi ng, a nd then s tood s l l . “Al l ri ght!” he s a i d to Des ny. “Very good! You’ve gi ven me nothi ng, s o I'l l ta ke wha t I wa nt!” He went to one of the s ta cks of books tha t covered mos t of the floor-s pa ce, ya nked out a bo om vol ume (s ca rri ng the l ea ther a nd brui s i ng hi s knuckl es when the overl yi ng fol i os a va l a nched), s l a pped i t on the ta bl e a nd bega n to s tudy one pa ge of i t. Then, s l l wi th a s et col d l ook of rebel l i on, he got thi ngs rea dy: s ul fur, s i l ver, cha l k.... Though the room wa s dus ty a nd l i ered, hi s l i l e workbench wa s nea tl y a nd ha ndi l y a rra nged. He wa s s oon rea dy. Then he pa us ed. “ Thi s i s ri di cul ous ,” he mu ered, gl a nci ng out the wi ndow i nto the da rknes s where now one coul d onl y gues s a t the two s qua re towers . A wa tchma n pa s s ed bel ow ca l l i ng out the hour, ei ght o’cl ock of a col d cl ea r ni ght. It wa s s o s l l he coul d hea r the l a ppi ng of the Sei ne. He s hrugged, frowned, took up the cha l k a nd drew a nea t penta gra m on the floor nea r hi s ta bl e, then took up the book a nd bega n to rea d i n a cl ea r but s el f-cons ci ous voi ce: “Ha ere, ha ere, a udi me.. It wa s a l ong s pel l , a nd mos tl y nons ens e. Hi s voi ce s a nk. He s tood bored a nd emba rra s s ed. He hurri ed through the l a s t words , s hut the book, a nd then fel l ba ckwa rds a ga i ns t the door, ga p-mouthed, s ta ri ng a t the enormous , s ha pel es s fi gure tha t s tood wi thi n the penta gra m, l i t onl y by the bl ue fl i cker of i ts wa vi ng, fi ery cl a ws . Ba rry Pennywi ther fina l l y got control of hi ms el f a nd put out the fire by buryi ng hi s ha nds i n the fol ds of the bl a nket wra pped a round hi m. Unburned but ups et, he s a t down a ga i n. He l ooked a t hi s book. Then he s ta red a t i t. It wa s no l onger thi n a nd grey a nd tl ed The La s t Yea rs of Vi l l on: a n Inves ga on of Pos s i bi l i es . It wa s thi ck a nd brown a nd tl ed Inca nta tori a Ma gna . On hi s ta bl e? A pri cel es s ma nus cri pt da ng from 1407 of whi ch the onl y exta nt unda ma ged copy wa s i n the Ambros i a n Li bra ry i n Mi l a n. He l ooked s l owl y a round. Hi s mouth dropped s l owl y open. He obs erved a s tove, a chemi s t’s workbench, two or three dozen hea ps of unbel i eva bl e l ea therbound books , the wi ndow, the door. Hi s wi ndow, hi s door. But crouchi ng a ga i ns t hi s door wa s a l i ttl e crea ture, bl a ck a nd s ha pel es s , from whi ch come a dry ra ttl i ng s ound, Ba rry Pennywi ther wa s not a very bra ve ma n, but he wa s ra ona l . He thought he ha d l os t hi s mi nd, a nd s o he s a i d qui te s tea di l y, “Are you the Devi l ?” The crea ture s huddered a nd ra ttl ed. Experi menta l l y, wi th a gl a nce a t i nvi s i bl e Notre Da me, the profes s or ma de the s i gn of the Cros s . At thi s the crea ture twi tched; not a fli nch, a twi tch. Then i t s a i d s omethi ng, feebl y, but i n perfectl y good Engl i s h—no, i n perfectl y good French—no, i n ra ther odd French: “Ma i s vous es tes de Di eu,” i t s a i d. Ba rry got up a nd peered a t i t. “Who a re you?” he dema nded, a nd i t l i ed up a qui te huma n fa ce a nd a ns wered meekl y, “Jeha n Lenoi r.” “Wha t a re you doi ng i n my room?” There wa s a pa us e. Lenoi r got up from hi s knees a nd s tood s tra i ght, a l l five foot two of hi m. “ Thi s i s my room,” he s a i d a t l a s t, though very pol i tel y. Ba rry l ooked a round a t the books a nd a l embi cs . There wa s a nother pa us e. “Then how di d I get here?” “I brought you.” “Are you a doctor?” Lenoi r nodded, wi th pri de. Hi s whol e a i r ha d cha nged. “Yes , I’m a doctor,” he s a i d. “Yes , I brought you here. If Na ture wi l l yi el d me no knowl edge, then I ca n conquer Na ture hers el f, I ca n work a mi ra cl e! To the Devi l wi th s ci ence, then. I wa s a s ci en s t—” he gl a red a t Ba rry. “No l onger! They ca l l me a fool , a here c, wel l by God I’m wors e! I’m a s orcerer, a bl a ck ma gi ci a n, Jeha n the Bl a ck! Ma gi c works , does i t? Then s ci ence i s a wa s te of me. Ha !” he s a i d, but he di d not rea l l y l ook tri umpha nt. “I wi s h i t ha dn’t worked,” he s a i d more qui etl y, pa ci ng up a nd down between fol i os . “So do I,” s a i d the gues t. “Who a re you?” Lenoi r l ooked up cha l l engi ngl y a t Ba rry, though there wa s nea rl y a foot di fference i n thei r hei ghts . “Ba rry A. Pennywi ther, I’m a profes s or of French a t Muns on Col l ege, Indi a na , on l ea ve i n Pa ri s to purs ue my s tudi es of La te Medi a eva l Fr—” He s topped. He ha d jus t rea l i zed wha t ki nd of a ccent Lenoi r ha d. “Wha t yea r i s thi s ? Wha t century? Pl ea s e, Dr. Lenoi r—” The Frenchma n l ooked confus ed. The mea ni ngs of words cha nge, a s wel l a s thei r pronunci a ons . “Who rul es thi s country?” Ba rry s houted. Lenoi r ga ve a s hrug, a French s hrug (s ome thi ngs never cha nge). “Loui s i s ki ng,” he s a i d. “Loui s the El eventh. The di rty ol d s pi der.” They s tood s ta ri ng a t ea ch other l i ke wooden Indi a ns for s ome me. Lenoi r s poke firs t. “ Then you’re a ma n?” “Yes . Look, Lenoi r, 14

I thi nk you—your s pel l —you mus t ha ve muffed i t a bi t.” “Evi dentl y,” s a i d the a l chemi s t. “Are you French?” “No.” “Are you Engl i s h?” Lenoi s gl a red. “Are you a fi l thy Godda m?” “No. No. I’m from Ameri ca . I’m from the—from your future. From the twen eth century A.D.” Ba rry bl us hed. It s ounded s i l l y, a nd he wa s a modes t ma n. But he knew thi s wa s no i l l us i on. The room he s tood i n, hi s room, wa s new. Not five centuri es ol d. Uns wept, but new. And the copy of Al bertus Ma gnus by hi s knee wa s new, bound i n s o s uppl e ca l fs ki n, the gol d l e eri ng gl ea mi ng. And there s tood Lenoi r i n hi s bl a ck gown, not i n cos tume, a t home.... “Pl ea s e s i t down, s i r,” Lenoi r wa s s a yi ng. And he a dded, wi th the fine though a bs ent courtes y of the poor s chol a r, “Are you red from the journey? I ha ve brea d a nd chees e, i f you’l l honor me by s ha ri ng i t.” They s a t a t the ta bl e munchi ng brea d a nd chees e. At firs t Lenoi r tri ed to expl a i n why he ha d tri ed bl a ck ma gi c. “I wa s fed up,” he s a i d. “Fed up! I’ve s l a ved i n s ol i tude s i nce I wa s twenty, for wha t? For knowl edge. To l ea rn s ome of Na ture’s s ecrets . They a re not to be l ea rned.” He drove hi s kni fe ha l f a n i nch i nto the ta bl e, a nd Ba rry jumped. Lenoi r wa s a thi n l i l e fel l ow, but evi dentl y a pa s s i ona te one. It wa s a fine fa ce, though pa l e a nd l ea n: i ntel l i gent, a l ert, vi vi d. Ba rry wa s remi nded of the fa ce of a fa mous a tomi c phys i ci s t, s een i n news pa per pi ctures up un l 1953. Somehow thi s l i kenes s prompted hi m to s a y, “Some a re, Lenoi r; we’ve l ea rned a good bi t, here a nd there...” “Wha t?” s a i d the a l chemi s t, s kepti ca l but curi ous . “Wel l , I’m no s ci enti s t—” “Ca n you ma ke gol d?” He gri nned a s he a s ked. “No, I don’t thi nk s o, but they do ma ke di a monds .” “How?” “Ca rbon—coa l , you know—under grea t hea t a nd pres s ure, I bel i eve. Coa l a nd di a mond a re both ca rbon, you know, the s a me el ement.” “El ement?” “Now a s I s a y, I’m no—” “Whi ch i s the pri ma l el ement?” Lenoi r s houted, hi s eyes fi ery, the kni fe poi s ed i n hi s ha nd. “There a re a bout a hundred el ements ,” Ba rry s a i d col dl y, hi di ng hi s a l a rm. Two hours l a ter, ha vi ng s queezed out of Ba rry every dri bbl e of the remna nts of hi s col l ege chemi s try cours e, Lenoi r rus hed out i nto the ni ght a nd rea ppea red s hortl y wi th a bo l e. “O my ma s ter,” he cri ed, “to thi nk I offered you onl y brea d a nd chees e!” It wa s a pl ea s a nt burgundy, vi nta ge 1477, a good yea r. A er they ha d drunk a gl a s s together Lenoi r s a i d, “If s omehow I coul d repa y you...” “You ca n. Do you know the na me of the poet Fra ncoi s Vi l l on?” “Yes ,” Lenoi r s a i d wi th s ome s urpri s e, “but he wrote onl y French tra s h, you know, not i n La ti n.” “Do you know how or when he di ed?” “Oh, yes ; ha nged a t Montfa ucon here i n ’64 or ’65, wi th a crew of no-goods l i ke hi ms el f. Why?” Two hours l a ter the bo l e wa s dry, thei r throa ts were dry, a nd the wa tchma n ha d ca l l ed three o’cl ock of a col d cl ea r morni ng. “Jeha n, I'm worn out,” Ba rry s a i d, “you’d be er s end me ba ck.” The a l chemi s t wa s too pol i te, too gra teful , a nd perha ps a l s o too ti red to a rgue. Ba rry s tood s ti ffl y i ns i de the penta gra m, a ta l l bony fi gure muffl ed i n a brown bl a nket, s moki ng a Ga ul oi s e Bl eue. “Adi eu,” Lenoi r s a i d s a dl y. “Au revoi r,” Ba rry repl i ed. Lenoi r bega n to rea d the s pel l ba ckwa rds . The ca ndl e fli ckered, hi s voi ce s o ened. “Me a udi , ha ere, ha ere,” he rea d, s i ghed, a nd l ooked up. The penta gra m wa s empty. The ca ndl e fli ckered. “But I l ea rned s o l i ttl e!” Lenoi r cri ed out to the empty room. Then he bea t the open book wi th hi s fi s ts a nd s a i d, “And a fri end l i ke tha t —a rea l fri end—” He s moked one of the ci ga re es Ba rry ha d l e hi m—he ha d ta ken to toba cco a t once. He s l ept, s i ng a t hi s ta bl e, for a coupl e of hours . When he woke he brooded a whi l e, rel i t hi s ca ndl e, s moked the other ci ga re e, then opened the Inca nta tori a a nd bega n to rea d a l oud: “Ha ere, ha ere.. “Oh, tha nk God,” Ba rry s a i d, s teppi ng qui ckl y out of the penta gra m a nd gra s pi ng Lenoi r’s ha nd. “Li s ten, I got ba ck there—thi s room, thi s s a me room, Jeha n! but ol d, horri bl y ol d, a nd empty, you weren’t there—I thought, my God, wha t ha ve I done? I’d s el l my s oul to get ba ck there, to hi m—Wha t ca n I do wi th wha t I’ve l ea rned? Who’l l bel i eve i t? How ca n I prove i t? And who the devi l coul d I tel l i t to a nyhow? Who ca res ? I coul dn’t s l eep, I s a t a nd cri ed for a n hour—” “Wi l l you s ta y?” “Yes . Look, I brought thes e—i n ca s e you di d i nvoke me.” Sheepi s hl y he exhi bi ted ei ght pa cks of Ga ul oi s es , s evera l books , a nd a gol d wa tch. “It mi ght fetch a pri ce,” he expl a i ned. “I knew pa per fra ncs woul dn’t do much good.” At s i ght of the pri nted books Lenoi r’s eyes gl ea med wi th curi os i ty, but he s tood s l l . “My fri end,” he s a i d, “you s a i d you’d s el l your s oul ... you know... s o woul d I. Yet we ha ven’t. How—a er a l l —how di d thi s ha ppen? Tha t we’re both men. No devi l s . No pa cts i n bl ood. Two men who’ve l i ved i n thi s room...” “I don’t know,” s a i d Ba rry. “We’l l thi nk tha t out l a ter. Ca n I s ta y wi th you, Jeha n?” 15

“Cons i der thi s your home,” Lenoi r s a i d wi th a gra ci ous ges ture a round the room, the s ta cks of books , the a l embi cs , the ca ndl e growi ng pa l e. Outs i de the wi ndow, grey on grey, ros e up the two grea t towers of Notre Da me. It wa s the da wn of Apri l 3rd. A er brea kfa s t (brea d crus ts a nd chees e ri nds ) they went out a nd cl i mbed the s outh tower. The ca thedra l l ooked the s a me a s a l wa ys , though cl ea ner tha n i n 1961, but the vi ew wa s ra ther a s hock to Ba rry. He l ooked down upon a l i l e town. Two s ma l l i s l a nds covered wi th hous es ; on the ri ght ba nk more hous es crowded i ns i de a for fied wa l l ; on the l e ba nk a few s treets twi s ng a round the col l ege; a nd tha t wa s a l l . Pi geons chortl ed on the s un-wa rmed s tone between ga rgoyl es . Lenoi r, who ha d s een the vi ew before, wa s ca rvi ng the da te (i n Roma n numera l s ) on a pa ra pet. “Let’s cel ebra te,” he s a i d. “Let’s go out i nto the country. I ha ven’t been out of the ci ty for two yea rs . Let’s go cl ea r over there—” he poi nted to a mi s ty green hi l l on whi ch a few huts a nd a wi ndmi l l were jus t vi s i bl e— “to Montma rtre, eh? There a re s ome good ba rs there, I’m tol d.” Thei r l i fe s oon s e l ed i nto a n ea s y rou ne. At firs t Ba rry wa s a l i l e nervous i n the crowded s treets , but, i n a s pa re bl a ck gown of Lenoi r’s , he wa s not no ced a s outl a ndi s h except for hi s hei ght. He wa s proba bl y the ta l l es t ma n i n fi eenth-century Fra nce. Li vi ng s ta nda rds were l ow a nd l i ce were una voi da bl e, but Ba rry ha d never va l ued comfort much; the onl y thi ng he rea l l y mi s s ed wa s coffee a t brea kfa s t. When they ha d bought a bed a nd a ra zor—Ba rry ha d forgo en hi s —a nd i ntroduced hi m to the l a ndl ord a s M. Ba rri e, a cous i n of Lenoi r’s from the Auvergne, thei r hous ekeepi ng a rra ngements were compl ete. Ba rry’s wa tch brought a tremendous pri ce, four gol d pi eces , enough to l i ve on for a yea r. They s ol d i t a s a wondrous new ti mepi ece from Il l yri a , a nd the buyer, a Court cha mberl a i n l ooki ng for a ni ce pres ent to gi ve the ki ng, l ooked a t the i ns cri p on—Ha mi l ton Bros ., New Ha ven, 1881—a nd nodded s a gel y. Unfortuna tel y he wa s s hut up i n one of Ki ng Loui s ’s ca ges for na ughty cour ers a t Tours before he ha d pres ented hi s gi , a nd the wa tch ma y s l l be there behi nd s ome bri ck i n the rui ns of Pl es s i s ; but thi s di d not a ffect the two s chol a rs . Morni ngs they wa ndered a bout s i ghts eei ng the Ba s l l e a nd the churches , or vi s i ng va ri ous mi nor poets i n whom Ba rry wa s i nteres ted; a er l unch they di s cus s ed el ectri ci ty, the a tomi c theory, phys i ol ogy, a nd other ma ers i n whi ch Lenoi r wa s i nteres ted, a nd performed mi nor chemi ca l a nd a na tomi ca l experi ments , us ua l l y uns ucces s ful l y; a fter s upper they merel y ta l ked. Endl es s , ea s y ta l ks tha t ra nged over the centuri es but a l wa ys ended here, i n the s ha dowy room wi th i ts wi ndow open to the Spri ng ni ght, i n thei r fri ends hi p. A er two weeks they mi ght ha ve known ea ch other a l l thei r l i ves . They were perfectl y ha ppy. They knew they woul d do nothi ng wi th wha t they ha d l ea rned from ea ch other. In 1961 how coul d Ba rry ever prove hi s knowl edge of ol d Pa ri s , i n 1482 how coul d Lenoi r ever prove the va l i di ty of the s ci en fic method? It di d not bother them. They ha d never rea l l y expected to be l i s tened to. They ha d merel y wa nted to l ea rn. So they were ha ppy for the firs t me i n thei r l i ves ; s o ha ppy, i n fa ct, tha t certa i n des i res a l wa ys before s ubjuga ted to the des i re for knowl edge, bega n to a wa ken. “I don’t s uppos e,” Ba rry s a i d one ni ght a cros s the ta bl e, “tha t you ever thought much a bout ma rryi ng?” “Wel l , no,” hi s fri end a ns wered, doub ul l y. “ Tha t i s , I’m i n mi nor orders ... a nd i t s eemed i rrel eva nt....” “And expens i ve. Bes i des , i n my ti me, no s el f-res pecti ng woma n woul d wa nt to s ha re my ki nd of l i fe. Ameri ca n women a re s o da mned poi s ed a nd effi ci ent a nd gl a morous , terri fyi ng crea tures ....” “And women here a re l i ttl e a nd da rk, l i ke beetl es , wi th ba d teeth,” Lenoi r s a i d moros el y. They s a i d no more a bout women tha t ni ght. But the next ni ght they di d; a nd the next; a nd on the next, cel ebra ng the s ucces s ful di s s ec on of the ma i n nervous s ys tem of a pregna nt frog, they dra nk two bo l es of Montra chet ’74 a nd got s ous ed. “Let’s i nvoke a woma n, Jeha n,” Ba rry s a i d i n a l a s ci vi ous ba s s , gri nni ng l i ke a ga rgoyl e. “Wha t i f I ra i s ed a devi l thi s ti me?” “Is there rea l l y much di fference?” They l a ughed wi l dl y, a nd drew a penta gra m. “Ha ere, ha ere,” Lenoi r bega n; when he got the hi ccups , Ba rry took over. He rea d the l a s t words . There wa s a rus h of col d, ma rs hy-s mel l i ng a i r, a nd i n the penta gra m s tood a wi l d-eyed bei ng wi th l ong bl a ck ha i r, s ta rk na ked, s crea mi ng. “Woma n, by God,” s a i d Ba rry. “Is i t?” It wa s . “Here, ta ke my cl oa k,” Ba rry s a i d, for the poor thi ng now s tood ga wpi ng a nd s hi veri ng. He put the cl oa k over her s houl ders . Mecha ni ca l l y s he pul l ed i t round her, mutteri ng, “Gra ti a s a go, domi ne.” “La n!” Lenoi r s houted. “A woma n s pea ki ng La n?” It took hi m l onger to get over tha t s hock tha n i t di d Bota to get over hers . She wa s , i t s eemed, a s l a ve i n the hous ehol d of the Sub-Prefect of North Ga ul , who l i ved on the s ma l l er i s l a nd of the muddy i s l a nd town ca l l ed Lute a . She s poke La n wi th a thi ck Cel c brogue, a nd di d not even know who wa s emperor i n Rome i n her da y. A rea l ba rba ri a n, Lenoi r s a i d wi th s corn. So s he wa s , a n i gnora nt, ta ci turn, humbl e ba rba ri a n wi th ta ngl ed ha i r, whi te s ki n, a nd cl ea r grey eyes . She ha d been wa ked from a s ound s l eep. When they convi nced her tha t s he wa s not drea mi ng, s he evi dentl y a s s umed tha t thi s wa s s ome pra nk of her forei gn a nd a l l -powerful ma s ter the Sub-Prefect, a nd a ccepted the s i tua on wi thout further ques ti on. “Am I to s erve you, my ma s ters ?” s he i nqui red ti mi dl y but wi thout s ul l ennes s , l ooki ng from one to the other. “Not me,” Lenoi r growl ed, a nd a dded i n French to Ba rry, “Go on; I’l l s l eep i n the s tore-room.” He depa rted. Bota l ooked up a t Ba rry. No Ga ul s , a nd few Roma ns , were s o ma gni ficentl y ta l l ; no Ga ul s a nd no Roma ns ever s poke s o ki ndl y. “Your l a mp” (i t wa s a ca ndl e, but s he ha d never s een a ca ndl e) “i s nea rl y burnt out,” s he s a i d. “Sha l l I bl ow i t out?” For a n a ddi ona l two s ol s a yea r the l a ndl ord l et them us e the s tore-room a s a s econd bedroom, a nd Lenoi r now s l ept a l one a ga i n i n the ma i n room of the ga rret. He obs erved hi s fri end’s i dyl l wi th a broodi ng, unjea l ous i nteres t. The profes s or a nd the s l a ve-gi rl l oved ea ch other wi th del i ght a nd tendernes s . Thei r pl ea s ure overl a pped Lenoi r i n wa ves of protec ve joy. Bota ha d l ed a bruta l l i fe, trea ted a l wa ys a s a woma n but never a s a huma n. In one s hort week s he bl oomed, s he ca me a l i ve, evi nci ng 16

benea th her gentl e pa s s i venes s a cheerful , cl ever na ture. “You’re turni ng out a regul a r Pa ri s i enne,” he hea rd Ba rry a ccus e her one ni ght (the a c wa l l s were thi n). She repl i ed, “If you knew wha t i t i s for me not to be a l wa ys defendi ng mys el f, a l wa ys a fra i d, a l wa ys a l one...” Lenoi r s a t up on hi s cot a nd brooded. About mi dni ght, when a l l wa s qui et, he ros e a nd noi s el es s l y prepa red the pi nches of s ul fur a nd s i l ver, drew the penta gra m, opened the book. Very s oftl y he rea d the s pel l . Hi s fa ce wa s a pprehens i ve. In the penta gra m a ppea red a s ma l l whi te dog. It cowered a nd hung i ts ta i l , then ca me s hyl y forwa rd, s ni ffed Lenoi r’s ha nd, l ooked up a t hi m wi th l i qui d eyes a nd ga ve a modes t, pl ea di ng whi ne. A l os t puppy... Lenoi r s troked i t. It l i cked hi s ha nds a nd jumped a l l over hi m, wi l d wi th rel i ef. On i ts whi te l ea ther col l a r wa s a s i l ver pl a que engra ved, “Jol i e. Dupont, 36 rue de Sei ne, Pa ri s VIe.” Jol i e went to s l eep, a er gna wi ng a crus t, curl ed up under Lenoi r’s cha i r. And the a l chemi s t opened the book a ga i n a nd rea d, s ti l l s oftl y, but thi s ti me wi thout s el f-cons ci ous nes s , wi thout fea r, knowi ng wha t woul d ha ppen. Emergi ng from hi s s tore-room-bedroom-honeymoon i n the morni ng, Ba rry s topped s hort i n the doorwa y. Lenoi r wa s s i ng up i n bed, pe ng a whi te puppy, a nd deep i n convers a on wi th the pers on s i ng on the foot of the bed, a ta l l red-ha i red woma n dres s ed i n s i l ver. The puppy ba rked. Lenoi r s a i d, “Good morni ng!” The woma n s mi l ed wondrous l y. “Jumpi ng Jes us ,” Ba rry mu ered (i n Engl i s h). Then he s a i d, “Good morni ng. When a re you from?” The effect wa s Ri ta Ha yworth, s ubl i ma ted—Ha yworth pl us the Mona Li s a , perha ps ? “From Al ta i r, a bout s even thous a nd yea rs from now,” s he s a i d, s mi l i ng s l l more wondrous l y. Her French a ccent wa s wors e tha n tha t of a footba l l -s chol a rs hi p fres hma n. “I’m a n a rcha eol ogi s t. I wa s exca va ng the rui ns of Pa ri s III. I’m s orry I s pea k the l a ngua ge s o ba dl y; of cours e we know i t onl y from i ns cri pti ons .” “From Al ta i r? The s ta r? But you’re huma n—I thi nk—” “Our pl a net wa s col oni zed from Ea rth a bout four thous a nd yea rs a go—tha t i s , three thous a nd yea rs from now.” She l a ughed, mos t wondrous l y, a nd gl a nced a t Lenoi r. “Jeha n expl a i ned i t a l l to me, but I s ti l l get confus ed.” “It wa s a da ngerous thi ng to try i t a ga i n, Jeha n!” Ba rry a ccus ed hi m. “We’ve been a wful l y l ucky, you know.” “No,” s a i d the Frenchma n. “Not l ucky.” “But a fter a l l i t’s bl a ck ma gi c you’re pl a yi ng wi th— Li s ten—I don’t know your na me, ma da me.” “Ki s l k,” s he s a i d. “Li s ten, Ki s l k,” Ba rry s a i d wi thout even a s tumbl e, “your s ci ence mus t be fa nta s ca l l y a dva nced—i s there a ny ma gi c? Does i t exi s t? Ca n the l a ws of Na ture rea l l y be broken, a s we s eem to be doi ng?” “I’ve never s een nor hea rd of a n a uthenti ca ted ca s e of ma gi c.” “ Then wha t goes on?” Ba rry roa red. “Why does tha t s tupi d ol d s pel l work for Jeha n, for us , tha t one s pel l , a nd here, nowhere el s e, for nobody el s e, i n five—no, ei ght—no, fi een thous a nd yea rs of recorded hi s tory? Why? Why? And where di d tha t da mn puppy come from?” “The puppy wa s l os t,” Lenoi r s a i d, hi s da rk fa ce gra ve. “Somewhere nea r thi s hous e, on the Il e Sa i nt-Loui s .” “And I wa s s or ng pots herds ,” Ki s l k s a i d, a l s o gra vel y, “i n a hous e-s i te, Is l a nd 2, Pi t 4, Sec on D. A l ovel y Spri ng da y, a nd I ha ted i t. Loa thed i t. The da y, the work, the peopl e a round me.” Aga i n s he l ooked a t the ga unt l i l e a l chemi s t, a l ong, qui et l ook. “I tri ed to expl a i n i t to Jeha n l a s t ni ght. We ha ve i mproved the ra ce, you s ee. We’re a l l very ta l l , hea l thy, a nd bea u ful . No fil l i ngs i n our teeth. Al l s kul l s from Ea rl y Ameri ca ha ve fil l i ngs i n the teeth.... Some of us a re brown, s ome whi te, s ome gol d-s ki nned. But a l l bea u ful , a nd hea l thy, a nd wel l -a djus ted, a nd a ggres s i ve, a nd s ucces s ful . Our profes s i ons a nd degree of s ucces s a re prepl a nned for us i n the Sta te Pre-School Homes . But there’s a n occa s i ona l gene c fla w. Me, for i ns ta nce. I wa s tra i ned a s a n a rcha eol ogi s t beca us e the Tea chers s a w tha t I rea l l y di dn’t l i ke peopl e, l i ve peopl e. Peopl e bored me. Al l l i ke me on the outs i de, a l l a l i en to me on the i ns i de. When everythi ng’s a l i ke, whi ch pl a ce i s home?... But now I’ve s een a n unhygi eni c room wi th i ns uffici ent hea ng. Now I’ve s een a ca thedra l not i n rui ns . Now I’ve met a l i vi ng ma n who’s s horter tha n me, wi th ba d teeth a nd a s hort temper. Now I’m home, I’m where I ca n be mys el f, I’m no l onger a l one!” “Al one,” Lenoi r s a i d gentl y to Ba rry. “Lonel i nes s , eh? Lonel i nes s i s the s pel l , l onel i nes s i s s tronger.... Rea l l y i t does n’t s eem unna tura l .” Bota wa s peeri ng round the doorwa y, her fa ce flus hed between the bl a ck ta ngl es of her ha i r. She s mi l ed s hyl y a nd s a i d a pol i te La ti n good-morni ng to the newcomer. “Ki s l k does n’t know La n,” Lenoi r s a i d wi th i mmens e s a s fa c on. “We mus t tea ch Bota s ome French. French i s the l a ngua ge of l ove, a nywa y, eh? Come a l ong, l et’s go out a nd buy s ome brea d. I’m hungry.” Ki s l k hi d her s i l ver tuni c under the us eful a nd a nonymous cl oa k, whi l e Lenoi r pul l ed on hi s moth-ea ten bl a ck gown. Bota combed her ha i r, whi l e Ba rry thoughtful l y s cra tched a l ous e-bi te on hi s neck. Then they s et forth to get brea kfa s t. The a l chemi s t a nd the i nters tel l a r a rcha eol ogi s t went firs t, s pea ki ng French; the Ga ul i s h s l a ve a nd the profes s or from Indi a na fol l owed, s pea ki ng La n, a nd hol di ng ha nds . The na rrow s treets were crowded, bri ght wi th s uns hi ne. Above them Notre Da me rea red i ts two s qua re towers a ga i ns t the s ky. Bes i de them the Sei ne ri ppl ed s oftl y. It wa s Apri l i n Pa ri s , a nd on the ba nks of the ri ver the ches tnuts were i n bl oom. THE MASTERS

17

"The Ma s ters ” wa s my firs t publ i s hed genui ne a uthen c rea l vi rgi n-wool s ci ence fic on s tory, by whi ch I mea n a s tory i n whi ch or to whi ch the exi s tence a nd the a ccompl i s hments of s ci ence a re, i n s ome wa y, es s en a l . At l ea s t tha t i s wha t I mea n by s ci ence fi cti on on Monda ys . On Tues da ys s ometi mes I mea n s omethi ng el s e. Some s ci ence-fic on wri ters detes t s ci ence, i ts s pi ri t, method, a nd works ; others l i ke i t. Some a re a n -technol ogy, others a re technol ogy-wors hi ppers . I s eem to be ra ther bored by compl ex technol ogy, but fa s ci na ted by bi ol ogy, ps ychol ogy, a nd the s pecul a ve ends of a s tronomy a nd phys i cs , i ns ofa r a s I ca n fol l ow them. The figure of the s ci en s t i s a qui te common one i n my s tori es , a nd mos t often a ra ther l onel y one, i s ol a ted, a n a dventurer, out on the edge of thi ngs . The theme of thi s s tory i s one I returned to l a ter, wi th cons i dera bl y be er equi pment. It ha s a good s entence i n i t, though: “He ha d been tryi ng to mea s ure the di s ta nce between the ea rth a nd God.” In da rknes s a ma n s tood a l one, na ked, hol di ng a s moki ng torch. The reddi s h gl ow l i t a i r a nd ground for onl y a few feet; beyond tha t wa s the da rknes s , the i mmea s ura bl e. From moment to moment there wa s a rus h of wi nd, a ha l f-gl i mps ed gl i er of eyes , a va s t mutter i ng: “Hol d i t hi gher!” The ma n obeyed, though the torch s hook i n hi s s ha ki ng ha nds . He ra i s ed i t cl ea r a bove hi s hea d, whi l e the da rknes s rus hed a nd ja bbered a round hi m, cl os i ng i n. The wi nd bl ew col der, the red fla me gu ered. Hi s ri gi d a rms bega n to qui ver, then to jerk a l i l e; hi s fa ce wa s oi l y wi th s wea t; he ba rel y hea rd the s o , huge ja bberi ng, “Hol d i t up, up, hol d i t up....” The current of me ha d s topped; onl y the whi s peri ng grew a nd grew l l i t wa s a howl i ng, a nd s l l , horri bl y, nothi ng touched hi m, nothi ng ca me wi thi n the ci rcl e of l i ght. “Now wa l k!” the grea t voi ce howl ed. “Wa l k forwa rd!” The torch a bove hi s hea d, he s tepped forwa rd on the ground he coul d not s ee. It wa s not there. Wi th a s crea m for hel p, he fel l , da rknes s a nd thunder a bout hi m, the torch he woul d not l et go fl a mi ng ba ckwa rd i nto hi s eyes . Ti me... me, a nd l i ght, a nd pa i n, they ha d a l l s ta rted a ga i n. He wa s crouchi ng i n s ome ki nd of di tch, on a l l fours i n the mud. Hi s fa ce s tung a nd hi s eyes , i n thi s bri ght l i ght, were ful l of fog. He l ooked up from hi s mud-bl otched na kednes s to a bl urred, ra di a nt figure s ta ndi ng a bove hi m. Li ght fel l i n gl ory on whi te ha i r, the l ong fol ds of a whi te cl oa k. The eyes ga zed a t Ga ni l , the voi ce s poke to hi m: “You l i e i n the Gra ve. You l i e i n the Gra ve of Knowl edge. So l i e your forefa thers forever benea th the a s hes of the fires of Hel l .” The voi ce s wel l ed out: “O fa l l en Ma n, a ri s e!” Ga ni l ma na ged to get to hi s feet. The whi te figure wa s poi n ng: “ Tha t i s the Li ght of Huma n Rea s on. It gui ded you to the gra ve. Drop i t.” Ga ni l rea l i zed he wa s s l l hol di ng a mud-s odden bl a ck s ck, the torch; he l et i t fa l l . “Now ri s e,” the whi te figure cri ed i n a s l ow exa l ta on, “ri s e from da rknes s a nd wa l k i n the Li ght of Common Da y!” Ha nds rea ched to Ga ni l , hel pi ng a nd ha ul i ng hi m up. Men knel t offeri ng hi m ba s i ns a nd s ponges , others towel l ed hi m, rubbed hi m down l l he s tood cl ea n a nd wa rm, a grey cl oa k round hi s s houl ders , a mi d the cha ng a nd l a ughter, comi ng a nd goi ng, i n the bri ght s pa ci ous ha l l . A ba l d ma n cl a pped hi s s houl der. “Come on, ti me for the Oa th.” “Di d I—di d I do a l l ri ght?” “Fi ne! Onl y you hel d up tha t da mn fool torch s o l ong. Thought you’d keep us growl i ng a round i n the da rk a l l da y. Come on.” They l ed hi m over bl a ck pa vement a nd under the very l o y, whi te-bea med cei l i ng, to a curta i n tha t dropped, pure whi te, i n a few s tra i ght fol ds , thi rty feet from roof to floor. “Curta i n of Mys tery,” s omebody s a i d to Ga ni l i n a ma er-of-fa ct tone. La ughi ng a nd ta l ki ng ha d di ed a wa y; they s tood a l l a round hi m, s i l ent. In s i l ence the whi te curta i n pa rted. Ga ni l s ta red foggi l y a t wha t wa s revea l ed; a hi gh a l ta r, a l ong ta bl e, a nd a n ol d ma n i n whi te. “Pos tul a nt, wi l l you s wea r our Oa th wi th us ?” Somebody nudged Ga ni l , whi s peri ng, “I wi l l .” “I wi l l ,” Ga ni l s tuttered. “Swea r then, Ma s ters of the Ri te!” The ol d ma n ra i s ed up a s ha pe of s i l ver: a n X-cros s , s upported by a n i ron s ha . “Under the Cros s of the Common Da y I s wea r never to revea l the ri tes a nd mys teri es of my Lodge——” “Under the Cros s ... I s wea r... the ri tes ...” mu ered a l l the men a round Ga ni l , a nd propel l ed by a nother nudge he mu ered wi th them. “To l i ve wel l , to work wel l , to thi nk wel l —” As Ga ni l fi ni s hed repea ti ng thi s a voi ce whi s pered i n hi s ea r, “Don’t s wea r.” “ To a voi d a l l heres i es , to betra y a l l necroma ncers to the Courts of Col l ege, a nd to obey the Hi gh Ma s ters of my Lodge from now forth l l my dea th—” Mu er, mu er. Some s eemed to be repea ng the l ong pa s s a ge, s ome not; Ga ni l , confus ed, mu ered a word or two a nd then s tood s i l ent. “And I s wea r never to tea ch the Mys teri es of Ma chi nery to a ny gen l e. I s wea r thi s benea th the Sun.” A gra ng rumbl e a l mos t drowned thei r voi ces . Sl owl y, cra nki l y, a s ec on of the roof wa s s wi ngi ng ba ck to revea l the yel l ow-grey, cl oud-covered s ky of s ummer. “Behol d the Li ght of Common Da y!” the ol d ma n i n whi te cri ed out, tri umpha nt, a nd Ga ni l s ta red up a t i t. The ma chi nery a ppa rentl y s tuck before the s kyl i ght wa s ful l y open; there wa s a l oud cl a nki ng of gea rs , then s i l ence. The ol d ma n ca me forwa rd, ki s s ed Ga ni l on both cheeks , a nd s a i d, “Wel come, Ma s ter Ga ni l , to the Inner Ri te of the Mys tery of the Ma chi ne.” The i ni ti a ti on wa s over. Ga ni l wa s a Ma s ter of hi s Lodge. “Mea n burn you got there,” the ba l d fel l ow s a i d a s they a l l wa l ked ba ck down the ha l l . Ga ni l put up hi s ha nd a nd found tha t hi s l eft cheek a nd templ e were ra w a nd s ore. “Lucky i t mi s s ed your eye.” “Jus t mi s s ed bei ng bl i nded by the Li ght of Rea s on, eh?” s a i d a s o voi ce. Gl a nci ng round Ga ni l s a w a fa i r ma n, wi th brown ha i r a nd bl ue eyes , a ctua l l y bl ue, l i ke thos e of a n a l bi no ca t or a bl i nd hors e. He l ooked a wa y from the deformi ty a t once, but the fa i r ma n went on i n hi s s o voi ce, the voi ce tha t ha d whi s pered “Don’t s wea r” duri ng the ta ki ng of the Oa th, “I’m Mede Fa i rma n. I’l l be your Co-Ma s ter i n Lee’s s hop. Feel l i ke getti ng a beer when we’re out of here?” The da nk beer-dreggy wa rmth of the ta vern wa s a queer cha nge from a l l the terror a nd ceremony of the da y. Ga ni l fel t di zzy. Mede Fa i rma n dra nk off ha l f a ta nka rd, wi ped foa m pl ea s ura bl y off hi s mouth, a nd i nqui red, “Wha t d’you thi nk of the i ni ti a ti on?”

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“It wa s —i t wa s —” “Humbl i ng?” “Yes ,” Ga ni l a greed. “Rea l l y humbl i ng.” “Humi l i a ng, even,” the bl ue-eyed ma n s ugges ted. “Yes . A—a grea t mys tery.” Perpl exed, Ga ni l s ta red down i nto hi s beer. Mede s mi l ed a nd s a i d i n hi s s o voi ce, “I know. Dri nk up, now. I thi nk you ought to ha ve a n Apotheca ry l ook a t tha t burn.” Ga ni l obedi entl y fol l owed hi m out i nto the eveni ng, i nto the na rrow s treets thronged wi th pedes tri a ns , hors e-ca rts , ox-ca rts , chuffing motor-ca rts . In the Mercha nts pl a ce the booths of the a r s a ns were bei ng cl os ed for the ni ght, a nd down Hi gh Street the grea t doors of the Shops a nd Lodges were a l rea dy ba rred. Here a nd there the overhung, el bowi ng hous es were pa rted by the bl a nk yel l ow fa ca de of a templ e, ma rked wi th one pl a i n ci rcl e of pol i s hed bra s s . In the dul l , bri ef s ummer twi l i ght under the unmovi ng cl ouds the bl a ck-ha i red, bronze-s ki nned peopl e of the Common Da y crowded a nd i dl ed a nd pus hed a nd ta l ked a nd curs ed a nd l a ughed, a nd Ga ni l , di zzy from fa gue a nd pa i n a nd s trong beer, kept cl os e bes i de Mede a s i f, for a l l hi s own new Ma s terhood, thi s bl ueeyed s tra nger were hi s onl y gui de. “XVI pl us IXX,” Ga ni l s a i d i mpa entl y, “wha t the devi l , boy, ca n’t you a dd?” The a ppren ce flus hed red. “Is n’t i t XXXVI, then, Ma s ter Ga ni l ?” he a s ked feebl y. For a ns wer Ga ni l ja mmed one of the rods the boy ha d been ma chi ni ng i nto i ts pl a ce i n the s tea m engi ne tha t wa s bei ng repa i red; i t wa s too l ong by a n i nch. “It’s beca us e my rul e of thumb’s s o l ong, s i r,” the boy s a i d, di s pl a yi ng hi s knobby ha nds . The di s ta nce between firs t a nd s econd thumb-joi nt wa s i n fa ct unus ua l l y l ong. “So i t i s ,” Ga ni l s a i d. Hi s da rk fa ce da rkened. “Very i nteres ng. But i t does n’t ma er how l ong your i nch i s s o l ong a s you us e i t cons i s tentl y. And wha t ma ers , you bl ockhea d, i s tha t XVI a nd IXX don’t ma ke XXXVI, never ha ve, never ca n, never wi l l ti l l the worl d ends —you i ncompetent genti l e!” “Yes , s i r. It’s s o ha rd to remember, s i r.” “It’s i ntended to be ha rd to remember, Wa nno Pren ce,” s a i d a deep voi ce: Lee the Shopma s ter, a fa t deep-ches ted ma n wi th bri ght bl a ck eyes . “Come over here a mi nute, Ga ni l .” Lea di ng hi m to a qui eter corner of the grea t works hop, Lee went on cheerful l y, “You’re a bi t i mpa ti ent, Ma s ter Ga ni l .” “Wa nno s houl d know hi s a ddi ti on-ta bl es .” “Even Ma s ters forget a n a ddi on now a nd then, you know.” Lee pa ed Ga ni l ’s s houl der i n a fa therl y wa y. “Why, you s ounded for a moment there a s i f you expected hi m to compute i t!” He l a ughed a l oud, a fine ba s s l a ugh through whi ch hi s eyes gl ea med merri l y a nd wi th i nfi ni te s hrewdnes s . “Ta ke i t ea s y, tha t’s a l l .... I unders ta nd you’re comi ng for di nner next Al ta rda y Eve?” “I took the l i berty—” “Fi ne, fine! More power to you. Wi s h s he’d ta ke on a good s tea dy fel l ow l i ke you. But I gi ve you fa i r wa rni ng. My da ughter’s a wi l l ful hus s y.” Aga i n the Ma s ter l a ughed, a nd Ga ni l gri nned, a l i l e rueful l y. The Shopma s ter’s da ughter La ni ha d not onl y mos t of the young men of the Shop, but a l s o her fa ther, twi s ted ri ght round her l i l e finger. A cl ever, qui cks i l ver gi rl , s he ha d a t firs t ra ther s ca red Ga ni l . It took hi m a whi l e to no ce tha t s he s poke, to hi m onl y, wi th a certa i n s hynes s , a hi nt a l mos t of pl ea di ng. He ha d fina l l y got up coura ge to a s k a di nner i nvi ta on from her mother, the recogni zed firs t s tep of a courts hi p. He s tood now where Lee ha d l eft hi m, thi nki ng of La ni ’s s mi l e. “Ga ni l , ha ve you ever s een the Sun?” It wa s a l ow voi ce, dry a nd ea s y. He turned, meeti ng hi s fri end’s bl ue eyes . “The Sun? Yes , of cours e I ha ve.” “When wa s the l a s t ti me?” “Let’s s ee, I wa s twenty-s i x; four yea rs a go. Weren’t you here i n Edun then? It ca me out i n l a te a ernoon, a nd tha t ni ght there were s ta rs . I counted ei ghty-one, I remember, before the s ky cl os ed.” “I wa s up north i n Kel i ng then i n my firs t Ma s ters hi p.” Mede l ea ned a ga i ns t the wooden gua rd ra i l of the model hea vy s tea m engi ne a s he s poke. Hi s l i ght eyes l ooked a wa y from the bus y s hop, out the wi ndows a t the fine, s tea dy ra i n of l a te a utumn. “Hea rd you tel l i ng off young Wa nno jus t now... ‘Wha t ma ers i s tha t XVI a nd IXX don’t ma ke XXXVI....’ ‘When I wa s twentys i x, four yea rs a go... I counted ei ghty-one s ta rs ....' A l i ttl e more a nd you’d be computi ng, Ga ni l .” Ga ni l frowned, uncons ci ous l y rubbi ng the whi ti s h s ca r on hi s templ e. “Wel l , hel l , Mede! even genti l es know IV from XXX!” Mede s mi l ed fa i ntl y. He ha d hi s Compa ri ng S ck i n hi s ha nd, a nd l oweri ng i t he drew on the dus ty floor a round s ha pe. “Wha t’s tha t?” he a s ked. “The Sun.” “Ri ght. It’s a l s o a ... a fi gure. A number. The fi gure for Nothi ng.” “The fi gure for Nothi ng?” “Yes . You coul d us e i t i n the s ubtra c on-ta bl es , for i ns ta nce. I from II l ea ves I, ri ght? But wha t does II from II l ea ve?” A pa us e. He ta pped the ci rcl e wi th hi s s ti ck. “Tha t.” “Yes , of cours e.” Ga ni l s ta red down a t the ci rcl e, the s a cred i ma ge of the Sun, the Hi dden Li ght, the Fa ce of God. “Is tha t pri es t19

knowl edge?” “No.” Mede drew a n X-cros s over the ci rcl e. “Tha t i s .” “Then wha t—whos e knowl edge i s the—the fi gure for Nothi ng?” “No one’s . Anyone’s . It’s not a mys tery.” Ga ni l frowned i n s urpri s e a t thi s s ta tement. They s poke i n l ow voi ces , s ta ndi ng cl os e a s i f di s cus s i ng a mea s urement on Mede’s Compa ri ng Sti ck. “Why di d you count the s ta rs , Ga ni l ?” “I... I wa nted to know. I've a l wa ys l i ked counti ng, numbers , the ta bl es . Tha t’s why I’m a Mecha ni c.” “Yes . You’re thi rty, a ren’t you, you’ve been a Ma s ter for four months now. Di d you ever thi nk, Ga ni l , tha t to be a Ma s ter mea ns you ha ve l ea rned everythi ng your tra de ca n tea ch? From now on unti l your dea th you’l l l ea rn nothi ng more. There i s no more.” “But the Shopma s ters —” “Shopma s ters l ea rn s ome s ecret s i gna l s a nd pa s s words ,” Mede s a i d i n hi s s o , dry voi ce, “a nd of cours e they ha ve power. But they know no more tha n you.... You thought perha ps they were a l l owed to compute, di dn’t you? They a ren’t.” Ga ni l wa s s i l ent. “And yet there a re thi ngs to be l ea rned, Ga ni l .” “Where?” “Outs i de.” There wa s a l ong pa us e. “I ca n’t l i s ten to thi s , Mede. Don’t s pea k of i t a ga i n. I won’t betra y you.” Ga ni l turned a nd wa l ked a wa y, hi s fa ce ha rs h wi th a nger. Wi th a l l hi s wi l l he turned tha t confus ed a nd s truggl i ng a nger a ga i ns t Mede, a ma n a s deformed of mi nd a s of body, a n evi l couns el l or, a l os t fri end. It ha d been a pl ea s a nt eveni ng: Lee jovi a l , hi s fa t wi fe motherl y, a nd La ni s hy a nd ra di a nt. Ga ni l ’s youthful gra vi ty ma de her tea s e hi m, but even i n her tea s i ng wa s tha t pl ea di ng, yi el di ng note; a nother moment, i t s eemed, a nd a l l her verve woul d turn to tendernes s . Pa s s i ng a di s h a t ta bl e once her ha nd ha d for a n i ns ta nt touched hi s . He s l l knew exa ctl y where, there, the s i de of hi s ri ght ha nd nea r the wri s t, one s o touch. He moa ned l uxuri ous l y a s he l a y i n bed i n hi s room over the Shop i n the u er bl a cknes s of the ci ty ni ght. O La ni , s o touch of a ha nd, of l i ps —O Lord, Lord! Courts hi p wa s a l ong bus i nes s , ei ght months a t l ea s t, goi ng from s tep to s tep a s one mus t wi th a Ma s ter’s da ughter. Ga ni l ha d to get hi s mi nd off thi s unendura bl e s weetnes s . Thi nk of nothi ng, he tol d hi ms el f firml y, go to s l eep. Thi nk of nothi ng.... And he thought of nothi ng. The ci rcl e. The round empty ci rcl e. Wha t wa s I ti mes 0? The s a me a s II ti mes 0. Wha t i f you put I bes i de 0, wha t woul d tha t fi gure be, I0? Mede Fa i rma n s a t up i n bed, brown ha i r l a nk over groggy bl ue eyes , a nd tri ed to focus on the pers on cra s hi ng a round hi s room. The firs t di rty-yel l ow l i ght of da wn s howed a t the wi ndow. “ Thi s i s Al ta rda y,” he growl ed, “go a wa y, I’m s l eepy.” The va gue figure res ol ved i nto Ga ni l , the cra s hi ng i nto a whi s per. “Mede!” Ga ni l kept whi s peri ng, “l ook!” He s tuck a s l a te under Mede’s nos e. “Look, l ook wha t you ca n do wi th tha t fi gure for Nothi ng—” “Oh, tha t,” s a i d Mede. He pus hed Ga ni l a nd the s l a te a wa y, went a nd dunked hi s hea d i n the ba s i n of i cy wa ter on hi s cl othes ches t, a nd kept i t there a whi l e. He returned dri ppi ng to s i t on the bed. “Let’s s ee.” “See, you ca n us e a ny number for a ba s e, I us ed XII beca us e i t’s ha ndy. XII becomes I-0, s ee, a nd XIII i s I-I, then when you get up to XXIV—” “Sh.” Mede s tudi ed the s l a te. Fi na l l y he s a i d, “Wi l l you remember thi s ?” a nd a t Ga ni l ’s nod, wi ped the nea t crowded figures off the s l a te wi th a rub of hi s s l eeve. “I ha dn’t rea l i zed tha t one coul d us e a ny ba s e.... But l ook, us e the ba s e X, I’l l tel l you why i n a mi nute, a nd here’s a devi ce tha t ma kes i t ea s i er. Now X wi l l be I0, a nd XI wi l l be II, but for XII, wri te thi s ,” a nd he wrote on the s l a te, 12. Ga ni l s ta red a t the figure. At l a s t he s a i d i n a pecul i a r s truggl i ng voi ce, “Is n’t tha t one of the bl a ck numbers ?” “Yes , i t i s . Al l you’ve done, Ga ni l , i s to come a t the bl a ck numbers by the ba ck door.” Ga ni l s a t bes i de hi m, s i l ent. “Wha t’s CXX ti mes MCC?” Mede i nqui red. “The ta bl es don’t go tha t hi gh.” “Wa tch.” Mede wrote on the s l a te: 1200 120 ---------a nd then a s Ga ni l wa tched, 0000 2400 20

1200 ---------144000 Another l ong pa us e. “ Three Nothi ngs ... XII mes i ts el f... Gi ve me the s l a te,” Ga ni l mu ered. Then a er a s i l ence broken onl y by the pa tter of ra i n a nd the s quea k of cha l k on s l a te, “Wha t’s the bl a ck number for VIII?” By twi l i ght of tha t col d Al ta rda y they ha d gone a s fa r a s Mede coul d ta ke Ga ni l . Indeed Ga ni l ha d gone fa rther tha n Mede coul d fol l ow hi m. “You mus t meet Yi n,” the fa i r ma n s a i d. “He ca n tea ch you wha t you need. Yi n works wi th a ngl es , tri a ngl es , mea s urements . He ca n mea s ure the di s ta nce between a ny two poi nts , poi nts you ca n’t rea ch, us i ng hi s tri a ngl es . He i s a grea t Lea rner. Numbers a re the hea rt of thi s knowl edge, the l a ngua ge of i t.” “And my own l a ngua ge.” “Yes , i t i s . Not mi ne. I don’t l ove numbers for thems el ves . I wa nt to us e them. To expl a i n thi ngs ... For i ns ta nce, i f you throw a ba l l , wha t ma kes the ba l l move?” “Your throwi ng i t.” Ga ni l gri nned. Whi te a s a s heet —much whi ter tha n Mede’s s heets —hi s hea d ri ngi ng wi th s i xteen s tra i ght hours of ma thema cs mi nus mea l s or s l eep, he ha d l os t a l l fea r, a l l humi l i ty. Hi s s mi l e wa s tha t of a ki ng come home from exi l e. “Fi ne,” s a i d Mede. “Why does i t keep on movi ng?” “Beca us e... beca us e the a i r hol ds i t up?” “ Then why does i t ever fa l l ? Why does i t fol l ow a curve? Wha t ki nd of curve i s i t? Do you s ee how I need your numbers ?” It wa s Mede who now l ooked l i ke a ki ng, a n a ngry ki ng wi th a n empi re too i mmens e to control . “And they ta l k a bout Mys teri es ,” he s norted, “i n thei r l i ttl e s huttered s hops ! —Here, come on, l et’s get s ome di nner a nd go s ee Yi n.” Bui l t ri ght up a ga i ns t the ci ty wa l l , the ta l l ol d hous e peered from l ea ded wi ndows a t the two young Ma s ters down i n the s treet. Sul furous l a te-a utumn twi l i ght hung over the s teep s l a te roofs s hi ni ng wi th ra i n. “Yi n wa s a Ma chi ne-Ma s ter l i ke us ,” Mede tol d Ga ni l a s they wa i ted a t the i ron-ba rred door, “re red now, you’l l s ee why. Men from a l l the Lodges come here, a potheca ri es , wea vers , ma s ons . Even s ome a r s a ns . One butcher. He cuts up dea d ca ts .” Mede s poke wi th a mus ed tol era nce, a s phys i ci s ts genera l l y s pea k of bi ol ogi s ts . Now the door s wung open, a nd a s erva nt took them ups ta i rs to a room where l ogs gl owed on a grea t hea rth, a nd a ma n ros e from a hi gh-ba cked oa ken cha i r to greet them. Ga ni l thought a t once of the Overma s ter of hi s Lodge, the figure tha t ha d cri ed down to hi m i n hi s gra ve, “Ari s e.” Yi n too wa s ol d a nd ta l l , a nd wore the whi te cl oa k of the Hi gh Ma s ters . But he s tooped, a nd hi s fa ce wa s crea s ed a nd wea ry a s a n ol d hound’s . He hel d out hi s l eft ha nd to greet them. Hi s ri ght a rm ended i n a l ong hea l ed, s hi ny s tump a t the wri s t. “ Thi s i s Ga ni l ,” Mede wa s s a yi ng. “He i nvented the duodeci ma l s ys tem l a s t ni ght. Get hi m worki ng on the ma thema cs of curves for me, Ma s ter Yi n.” Yi n l a ughed, a n ol d ma n’s s hort, s o l a ugh. “Wel come, Ga ni l . From now on, come here when you pl ea s e. We’re a l l necroma ncers here, we pra c ce the bl a ck a rts . Or try to... Come freel y, da y or ni ght. And go freel y. If we’re betra yed, s o be i t. We mus t trus t one a nother. Mys tery bel ongs to no ma n; we’re not keepi ng a s ecret, but pra c ci ng a n a rt. Does tha t ma ke s ens e to you?” Ga ni l nodded. Words never ca me ea s i l y to hi m, onl y numbers . And he found hi ms el f very moved, whi ch emba rra s s ed hi m. Thi s wa s no s ol emn s ymbol i c Ini ti a ti on a nd Oa th, but onl y a n ol d ma n ta l ki ng qui etl y. “Good,” s a i d Yi n, a s i f Ga ni l ’s nod ha d been qui te s uffici ent. “Some wi ne, young Ma s ters , or a l e? My da rk a l e ca me out firs t-ra te thi s yea r. So you l i ke numbers , do you, Ga ni l ?” In ea rl y s pri ng Ga ni l s tood i n the s hop s upervi s i ng Wa nno a s the pren ce took mea s urements onto hi s Compa ri ng S ck from the model of the ha ul i ng-ca rt engi ne. Ga ni l ’s fa ce wa s gri m. He ha d cha nged over thes e few months , l ooked ol der, more res ol ute, ha rder. Four hours ’ s l eep a ni ght pl us the i nventi on of a l gebra mi ght wel l cha nge a ma n. “Ma s ter Ga ni l ?” s a i d a s hy voi ce. “Repea t tha t mea s urement,” he tol d Wa nno, a nd then turned ques oni ngl y to the gi rl . La ni too ha d cha nged. Her fa ce l ooked a l i l e cros s , a l i l e forl orn, a nd s he s poke to Ga ni l wi th rea l mi di ty. He ha d ta ken the s econd s tep of courts hi p, the three eveni ng ca l l s , a nd then becomi ng a bs orbed i n hi s work wi th Yi n, ha d gone no further. No ma n ha d ever dropped La ni i n the mi ddl e of a courts hi p. No ma n ha d ever l ooked ri ght through her, a s he wa s doi ng now. Wha t wa s i t he s a w, when he l ooked through her? She wa s wi l d to know tha t, to get a t hi s s ecret, to get a t hi m. In a va gue, unqua n fia bl e wa y he knew thi s , a nd wa s s orry for La ni , a nd a l i ttl e a fra i d of her. She wa s wa tchi ng Wa nno. “Do they... do you ever cha nge thos e mea s urements ?” s he a s ked, tryi ng to ma ke convers a ti on. “To cha nge a Model i s the heres y of Inventi on.” Tha t ended tha t. “My fa ther wa nted me to tel l you the Shop wi l l be s hut tomorrow.” “Shut? Why’s tha t?”

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“The Col l ege ha s a nnounced there’s a wes t wi nd ri s i ng, a nd the Sun ma y come out tomorrow.” “Good! A good begi nni ng for the s pri ng, eh? Tha nks .” And he turned ba ck to the model . The Pri es ts of the Col l ege ha d for once been ri ght. Wea ther predi c on, on whi ch they s pent mos t of thei r wa ki ng hours , wa s a tha nkl es s ta s k. But once i n ten tri es or s o they ca ught a Sun, a nd thi s wa s one of the mes . By noon the ra i ns ha d cea s ed a nd the cl oud-cover wa s pa l i ng, begi nni ng to boi l a nd flow s l owl y ea s twa rd. By mi d-a ernoon a l l the peopl e of Edun were out on the s treets a nd s qua res , on chi mneypots a nd roof-trees , on the wa l l a nd the fiel ds beyond the wa l l , wa tchi ng; the Pri es ts of the Col l ege ha d begun thei r ceremoni a l da nce, bowi ng a nd i nterwea vi ng on the grea t forecourt of the Col l ege; pri es ts s tood rea dy i n every templ e to pul l cha i ns tha t woul d open the roofs s o tha t the Sun’s l i ght mi ght s tri ke the a l ter-s tones . And i n l a te a ernoon a t l a s t the s ky opened. Between ra gged s moki ng edges of yel l ow-grey a ppea red a s trea k of bl ue. A s i gh, a s o tremendous murmur ros e up from the s treets , s qua res , wi ndows , roofs , wa l l s of the ci ty of Edun: “Hea ven, hea ven...” The rent i n the s ky wi dened. A s hower of ra i n s pa ered over the ci ty, bl own a s l a nt on the fres h wi nd, a nd s uddenl y the ra i ndrops gl i ttered, a s a t ni ght i n torchl i ght; but thi s gl ory they refl ected wa s the gl ory of the Sun. To wes twa rd i t s tood, a l l a l one i n hea ven, bl i ndi ng. Ga ni l s tood wi th the others , fa ce l i ed. On hi s fa ce, on the s ca r of hi s burn, he fel t the hea t of the Sun. He s ta red a t i t l l hi s eyes s wa m wi th tea rs , the Ci rcl e of Fi re, the fa ce of God.... “Wha t i s the Sun?” Tha t wa s Mede’s s o voi ce, remembered. A col d mi dwi nter ni ght, he a nd Mede a nd Yi n a nd the others ta l ki ng before the fire i n Yi n’s hous e. “Is i t a ci rcl e, or a s phere? Why does i t cros s the s ky? And how bi g i s i t —how fa r a wa y i s i t? Ah, to thi nk tha t once a l l a ma n ha d to do to s ee the Sun wa s l i ft up hi s hea d....” Fl utes a nd drums throbbed, a ga y fa i nt s ound, a wa y off a t the Col l ege. Some mes cl oud-fra gments bl ew a cros s the i ntol era bl e fa ce a nd the worl d turned grey a nd chi l l a ga i n, the flutes s topped; but the wes t wi nd bl ew, the cl ouds pa s s ed a nd the Sun rea ppea red, a l wa ys a l i l e l ower. Jus t before i t s a nk i nto the hea vy cl oudra ck i n the wes t i t wa s growi ng red a nd one coul d l ook a t i t wi thout pa i n. In thos e moments i t certa i nl y l ooked to Ga ni l ’s eyes not l i ke a di s k but l i ke a n enormous , ha ze-wa rped, s l owl y fa l l i ng ba l l . It fel l , wa s gone. Overhea d through the torn s ky gl i mps es of hea ven s l l s hone, cl ea r a nd deep, bl ue-green. Then wes twa rd nea r where the Sun ha d s et, a t the edge of a moun ng cl oud, gl ea med one bri ght poi nt: the eveni ng s ta r. “Look!” Ga ni l cri ed, but few turned to l ook. The Sun wa s s et, wha t di d s ta rs ma tter. The yel l owi s h ha ze, pa rt of the s i ngl e wi ndi ngs heet of cl oud tha t ha d covered ea rth wi th i ts ma ntl e of dus t a nd ra i n ever s i nce Hel l fire fourteen genera ons a go, moved up over the s ta r, era s ed i t. Ga ni l s i ghed, rubbed hi s neck tha t wa s s ti ff wi th cra ni ng, a nd s ta rted home a l ong wi th a l l the other peopl e of the Common Da y. He wa s a rres ted tha t ni ght. From gua rds a nd fel l ow-pri s oners (a l l hi s s hop wa s i n ja i l wi th hi m except the Shopma s ter Lee) he l ea rned tha t hi s cri me wa s tha t of knowi ng Mede Fa i rma n. Mede s tood a ccus ed of heres y. He ha d been s een out on the fiel ds poi n ng a n i ns trument a t the Sun, a devi ce, they s a i d, for mea s uri ng di s ta nces . He ha d been tryi ng to mea s ure the di s ta nce between the ea rth a nd God. The pren ces were s oon l et go. On the thi rd da y gua rds ca me for Ga ni l , bri ngi ng hi m out i nto one of the encl os ed courts of the Col l ege, i nto the s o , fine ra i n of ea rl y s pri ng. Pri es ts l i ved a l mos t whol l y out of doors , a nd the grea t compl ex of Edun Col l ege wa s onl y a s eri es of mea ger ba rra cks s urroundi ng the roofles s s l eepi ng-courts , wri ng-courts , pra yer-courts , ea ng-courts , a nd courts of l a w. Into one of thes e they brought Ga ni l , forci ng hi m on between the ra nks of men robed i n whi te a nd yel l ow tha t fil l ed i t, un l he s tood i n front of them a l l . He s a w a cl ea r s pa ce, a n a l ta r, a l ong ta bl e s hi ni ng wet wi th ra i n, a nd behi nd i t a pri es t i n the gol den robe of the Hi gh Mys tery. At the fa r end of the ta bl e wa s a nother ma n who l i ke Ga ni l wa s fla nked by gua rds . Thi s ma n wa s l ooki ng a t Ga ni l , a s tra i ght l ook, col d a nd bl a nk; yet they were bl ue eyes , the s a me bl ue a s hea ven a bove the cl ouds . “Ga ni l Ka l s on of Edun, you a re s us pect a s a n a cqua i nta nce of Mede Fa i rma n, a ccus ed of the heres i es of Inven on a nd Computa ti on. You were thi s ma n’s fri end?” “We were Co-Ma s ters —” “Yes . Di d he ever s pea k to you of mea s urements ma de wi thout Compa ri ng Sti cks ?” “No.” “Of bl a ck numbers ?” “No.” “Of the bl a ck a rts ?” “No.” “Ma s ter Ga ni l , you’ve a ns wered No three concerni ng s us pects i n heres y?”

mes . Do you know the Order of the Pri es t-Ma s ters of the Mys tery of the La w

“No, I don’t—” “ The Order s a ys : ‘If the s us pect s ha l l deny the ques ons four mes , the ques ons ma y be repea ted wi th us e of the ha ndpres s 22

unti l a ns wered.’ I s ha l l now repea t, unl es s you wi s h to retra ct one of your deni a l s .” “No,” Ga ni l s a i d, confus ed, l ooki ng round hi m a t the crowded bl a nk fa ces , the hi gh wa l l s . When they ha d brought out a s qua t wooden ma chi ne of s ome ki nd a nd ha d l ocked hi s ri ght ha nd i nto i t, he wa s s l l more confus ed tha n s ca red. Wha t wa s a l l thi s mumbo-jumbo? It wa s l i ke hi s i ni ti a ti on, when they ha d worked s o ha rd to fri ghten hi m; tha t ti me they ha d s ucceeded. “As a Mecha ni c,” the gol den pri es t wa s s a yi ng, “you know the us e of the l ever, Ma s ter Ga ni l . Wi l l you retra ct?” “No,” Ga ni l s a i d, frowni ng a l i ttl e. He ha d noti ced tha t hi s ri ght a rm now s eemed to end a t the wri s t, l i ke Yi n’s . “Very wel l .” One of the gua rds put hi s ha nd on the l ever s cki ng out of the wooden box, a nd the gol den pri es t s a i d, “Were you a fri end of Mede Fa i rma n?” “No,” Ga ni l s a i d. He s a i d No to ea ch ques on even a er he ha d cea s ed to hea r the pri es t’s voi ce; he went on s a yi ng No l l he hea rd hi s own voi ce mi xed wi th the cl a ppi ng echo from the wa l l s a bove the courtya rd. No, no, no, no. The l i ght ca me a nd went, the ra i n fel l col d on hi s fa ce a nd cea s ed, s omebody kept tryi ng to hel p hi m s ta nd up. Hi s grey cl oa k s ta nk, he ha d been s i ck wi th pa i n. At the thought, he wa s s i ck a ga i n. “ Ta ke i t ea s y, now,” a gua rd wa s whi s peri ng to hi m. The moti onl es s whi te a nd yel l ow ra nks were s ti l l crowded there, the fa ces s et, the eyes s ta ri ng... but not a t hi m now. “Hereti c, do you know thi s ma n?” “He i s my Co-Ma s ter.” “Di d you s pea k to hi m of the bl a ck a rts ?” “Yes .” “Di d you tea ch hi m the bl a ck a rts ?” “No. I tri ed to.” The voi ce cra cked a l i l e; even i n the s i l ence of the courtya rd, over onl y the whi s per of the ra i n, i t wa s ha rd to hea r Mede s pea k. “He wa s too s tupi d. He da red not a nd coul d not l ea rn. He’l l ma ke a fine Shopma s ter.” The col d bl ue eyes l ooked s tra i ght a t Ga ni l wi thout pi ty or a ppea l . The gol den pri es t turned to fa ce the court a ga i n. “ There i s no evi dence a ga i ns t the s us pect Ga ni l . You ma y go, s us pect. Come here a t noon tomorrow to wi tnes s the execu on of judgment. Fa i l ure to come wi l l be ta ken a s proof of your gui l t.” Before he unders tood, the gua rds ha d l ed Ga ni l out of the courtya rd. They l e hi m a t a s i de door of the Col l ege, ba rri ng the door behi nd hi m wi th a cl a ng. He s tood there a whi l e, then crouched down on the pa vement, pres s i ng hi s bl a ckened, bl ood-ca ked ha nd a ga i ns t hi s s i de under hi s cl oa k. Ra i n whi s pered a round hi m. No one pa s s ed. It wa s not l l dus k tha t he pul l ed hi ms el f up a nd wa l ked, s treet by s treet, hous e by hous e, s tep by s tep, a cros s the ci ty to Yi n’s hous e. In the s ha dows of the doorwa y a s ha dow moved, s poke: “Ga ni l !” He s topped. “Ga ni l , I don’t ca re i f you’re s us pect. It’s a l l ri ght. Come ba ck home wi th me. My fa ther wi l l ta ke you ba ck i nto the s hop. He wi l l i f I a s k hi m.” Ga ni l wa s s i l ent. “Come wi th me. I wa i ted for you, I knew you’d come here, I’ve fol l owed you before.” Her nervous , jubi l a nt l a ugh di ed a wa y. “Let me by, La ni .” “No. Why do you come to ol d Yi n’s hous e? Who l i ves here? Who i s s he? Come ba ck wi th me, you ha ve to, my fa ther won’t ta ke a s us pect ba ck i nto hi s s hop, unl es s I—” Yi n’s door wa s never l ocked. Ga ni l brus hed pa s t her a nd went i n, s hu ng i t behi nd hi m. No s erva nt ca me; the hous e wa s da rk, s i l ent. They ha d a l l been ta ken, a l l the Lea rners , they woul d a l l be ques ti oned a nd tortured a nd ki l l ed. “Who’s tha t?” Yi n s tood on the s ta i r-l a ndi ng, l a mpl i ght bri ght on hi s whi te ha i r. He ca me to Ga ni l a nd hel ped hi m up the s ta i rs . Ga ni l s poke very fa s t: “I wa s fol l owed here, a gi rl from the s hop, Lee’s da ughter, i f s he tel l s hi m he’l l recogni ze your na me, he’l l s end the gua rds here—” “I s ent the others a wa y three da ys a go.” At the s ound of Yi n’s voi ce Ga ni l s topped, s ta red a t the ol d ma n’s crea s ed, qui et fa ce, a nd then s a i d chi l di s hl y, “Look,” hol di ng out hi s ri ght ha nd, “l ook, l i ke yours .” “Yes . Come s i t down, Ga ni l .” “They condemned hi m. Not me, they l et me go. He s a i d he coul dn’t tea ch me, I coul dn’t l ea rn. To s a ve me—” “And your ma thema cs . Come here now, s i t down.” Ga ni l got control of hi ms el f, a nd obeyed. Yi n ma de hi m l i e down, then di d wha t he coul d a bout cl ea ni ng a nd ba nda gi ng hi s ha nd. Then, s i ng down between Ga ni l a nd the gl owi ng fire, he ga ve a wheezy s i gh. “Wel l ,” he s a i d, “now you’re a heres y s us pect. I’ve been one for twenty yea rs . You get us ed to i t.... Don’t worry a bout our fri ends . But i f the gi rl tel l s Lee a nd your na me gets l i nked wi th mi ne... We’d better l ea ve Edun. Sepa ra tel y. But toni ght.” Ga ni l s a i d nothi ng. To l ea ve hi s s hop wi thout the Overma s ter’s permi s s i on mea nt excommuni ca on, the l os s of hi s Ma s ters hi p. He woul d be ba rred from hi s own tra de. Wha t coul d he do, wi th hi s cri ppl ed ha nd, where coul d he go? He ha d never been out of Edun i n hi s l i fe. The s i l ence of the hous e s prea d out a bove a nd bel ow them. Ga ni l s tra i ned to hea r s ounds down i n the s treet, the tra mpi ng of a troop of gua rds come to re-a rres t hi m. He ha d to get out, to get a wa y, toni ght— “I ca n’t,” he s a i d a bruptl y. “I ha ve to be—to be a t the Col l ege tomorrow, a t noon.” 23

Yi n knew wha t he mea nt. Aga i n the s i l ence cl os ed round them. The ol d ma n’s voi ce wa s very dry a nd wea ry when he fina l l y s poke. “Tha t’s the condi ti on of your rel ea s e, eh? Al l ri ght; go do i t; you don’t wa nt them hunti ng you through the Forty Towns a s a condemned here c. A s us pect i s n’t hunted, merel y outca s t. It’s prefera bl e. Get s ome s l eep now, Ga ni l . Before I go I’l l tel l you where to meet me. Lea ve a s s oon a s you ca n; a nd tra vel l i ght....” When Ga ni l l eft the hous e l a te i n the morni ng, however, he ca rri ed s omethi ng wi th hi m, a rol l of pa pers hi dden under hi s cl oa k, ea ch s heet covered edge to edge wi th Mede Fa i rma n’s cl ea r wri ng: “ Tra jectori es ,” “Speed of Fa l l i ng Bodi es ,” “ The Na ture of Mo on...” Yi n ha d l e before da ybrea k, joggi ng ca l ml y out of town on a grey donkey. “I’l l s ee you i n Kel i ng” ha d been hi s onl y pa r ng wi th Ga ni l . Ga ni l ha d s een none of the other Lea rners . Onl y s erfs , s erva nts , begga rs , trua nt s chool boys , a nd women wi th thei r nurs ema i ds a nd whi ni ng chi l dren s tood wi th hi m now i n the dul l l i ght of noon on the grea t forecourt of the Col l ege. Onl y ri ffra ff a nd the i dl e ga thered to s ee a hereti c di e. A pri es t ha d ordered Ga ni l to s ta nd a t the very front of the crowd. Ma ny peopl e gl a nced curi ous l y a t hi m, s ta ndi ng there a l one i n hi s Ma s ter’s cl oa k. On the other s i de of the s qua re, i n the front of the crowd, he s a w a gi rl i n a vi ol et gown. He wa s not s ure i t wa s La ni . Why woul d s he be here to s ee Mede di e? She di d not know wha t i t wa s s he ha ted; or wha t i t wa s s he l oved. Love tha t wa nts onl y to get, to pos s es s , i s a mons trous thi ng, Ga ni l thought. She l oved hi m, s he s tood s epa ra ted from hi m onl y by the wi dth of tha t s qua re. She woul d never be wi l l i ng to s ee tha t s he wa s s epa ra ted from hi m by her own a ct, by i gnora nce, by exi l e, by dea th. They brought Mede out jus t before noon. Ga ni l gl i mps ed hi s fa ce; i t wa s very whi te, a l l hi s deformi ty expos ed, the a ta vi s c pa l l or of s ki n, ha i r, eyes . There wa s no dra wi ng-out of the s cene; a gol d-robed pri es t ra i s ed hi s cros s ed a rms i n i nvoca on to the Sun tha t s tood, uns een, a t noon behi nd the pa l l of cl ouds , a nd a s he l owered hi s a rms torches were s et to the s ta cks of wood round the s ta ke. Smoke curl ed up, the s a me grey-yel l ow a s the cl ouds . Ga ni l s tood wi th hi s i njured ha nd i n i ts s l i ng pres s ed ha rd a ga i ns t the rol l of pa pers under hi s .cl oa k, repea ng s i l entl y, “Let the s moke s uffoca te hi m firs t....” But the wood wa s dry a nd ca ught qui ckl y. He fel t the hea t on hi s fa ce, on hi s fi re-s ca rred templ e. Bes i de hi m a young pri es t tri ed to dra w ba ck, coul d not beca us e of the pres s i ng, s ta ri ng, s i ghi ng crowd, a nd s tood s l l , s wa yi ng a l i l e a nd brea thi ng i n ga s ps . The s moke wa s thi ck now, hi di ng the fla mes a nd the figure a mong them. But Ga ni l coul d hea r hi s voi ce, not s o now, l oud, very l oud. He hea rd i t, he forced hi ms el f to hea r i t, but a t the s a me me he l i s tened i n hi s s pi ri t to a s tea dy voi ce, s o , con nui ng: “Wha t i s the Sun? Why does i t cros s the s ky?... Do you s ee how I need your numbers ?... For XII, wri te 12.... Thi s i s a l s o a figure, the figure for Nothi ng.” The s crea mi ng ha d s topped, but the s oft voi ce ha d not. Ga ni l ra i s ed hi s hea d. The crowd wa s dri i ng a wa y; the young pri es t knel t on the pa vement by hi m, pra yi ng a nd s obbi ng a l oud. Ga ni l gl a nced up a t the hea vy s ky a nd then s et off a l one through the s treets of the ci ty a nd out through the ci ty ga te, northwa rd, i nto exi l e a nd towa rds hi s home. DARKNESS BOX

When my da ughter Ca rol i ne wa s three s he ca me to me wi th a s ma l l wooden box i n her s ma l l ha nds a nd s a i d, “Gues s fwa t i s i n thi s bockus !” I gues s ed ca terpi l l a rs , mi ce, el epha nts , etc. She s hook her hea d, s mi l ed a n uns pea ka bl y el dri tch s mi l e, opened the box s l i ghtl y s o tha t I coul d jus t s ee i n, a nd s a i d: “Da rknes s .” Hence thi s s tory. On s o s a nd by the s ea ’s edge a l i l e boy wa l ked l ea vi ng no footpri nts . Gul l s cri ed i n the bri ght s unl es s s ky, trout l ea ped from the s a l tl es s ocea n. Fa r off on the hori zon the s ea s erpent ra i s ed hi ms el f a moment i n s even enormous a rches a nd then, bel l owi ng, s a nk. The chi l d whi s tl ed but the s ea s erpent, bus y hun ng wha l es , di d not s urfa ce a ga i n. The chi l d wa l ked on ca s ng no s ha dow, l ea vi ng no tra cks on the s a nd between the cl i ffs a nd the s ea . Ahea d of hi m ros e a gra s s y hea dl a nd on whi ch s tood a four-l egged hut. As he cl i mbed a pa th up the cl i ff the hut s ki pped a bout a nd rubbed i ts front l egs together l i ke a l a wyer or a fl y; but the ha nds of the cl ock i ns i de, whi ch s a i d ten mi nutes of ten, never moved. “Wha t’s tha t you’ve got there, Di cky?” a s ked hi s mother a s s he a dded pa rs l ey a nd a pi nch of pepper to the ra bbi t s tew s i mmeri ng i n a n a l embi c. “A box, Mummy.” “Where di d you fi nd i t?” Mummy’s fa mi l i a r l ea ped down from the oni on-fes tooned ra ers a nd, dra pi ng i ts el f l i ke a foxfur round her neck, s a i d, “By the s ea .” Di cky nodded. “Tha t’s ri ght. The s ea wa s hed i t up.” “And wha t’s i ns i de i t?” The fa mi l i a r s a i d nothi ng, but purred. The wi tch turned round to l ook i nto her s on’s round fa ce. “Wha t’s i n i t?” s he repea ted. “Da rknes s .” “Oh? Let’s s ee.” As s he bent down to l ook the fa mi l i a r, s l l purri ng, s hut i ts eyes . Hol di ng the box a ga i ns t hi s ches t, the l i l e boy very ca reful l y l i fted the l i d a s ca nt i nch. “So i t i s ,” s a i d hi s mother. “Now put i t a wa y, don’t l et i t get knocked a bout. I wonder where the key got to. Run wa s h your ha nds now. Ta bl e, l a y!” And whi l e the chi l d worked the hea vy pump-ha ndl e i n the ya rd a nd s pl a s hed hi s fa ce a nd ha nds , the hut res ounded wi th the cl a tter of pl a tes a nd forks ma teri a l i zi ng. 24

A er the mea l , whi l e hi s mother wa s ha vi ng her morni ng na p, Di cky took down the wa ter-bl ea ched, s a nd-encrus ted box from hi s trea s ure s hel f a nd s et out wi th i t a cros s the dunes , a wa y from the s ea . Cl os e a t hi s heel s the bl a ck fa mi l i a r fol l owed hi m, trotti ng pa ti entl y over the s a nd through the coa rs e gra s s , the onl y s ha dow he ha d. At the s ummi t of the pa s s Pri nce Ri ka rd turned i n the s a ddl e to l ook ba ck over the pl umes a nd penna nts of hi s a rmy, over the l ong fa l l i ng roa d, to the towered wa l l s of hi s fa ther’s ci ty. Under the s unl es s s ky i t s hi mmered there on the pl a i n, fra gi l e a nd s ha dowl es s a s a pea rl . Seei ng i t s o he knew i t coul d never be ta ken, a nd hi s hea rt s a ng wi th pri de. He ga ve hi s ca pta i ns the s i gna l for qui ck ma rch a nd s et s purs to hi s hors e. It rea red a nd broke i nto a ga l l op, whi l e hi s gryphon s wooped a nd s crea med overhea d. She tea s ed the whi te hors e, di vi ng s tra i ght down a t i t cl a s hi ng her bea k, s wervi ng a s i de jus t i n me; the hors e, bri dl el es s , woul d s na p furi ous l y a t her s na ky ta i l or rea r to s tri ke out wi th s i l ver hoofs . The gryphon woul d ca ckl e a nd roa r, ci rcl e ba ck over the dunes a nd wi th a s creech a nd s woop pl a y the tri ck a l l over. Afra i d s he mi ght wea r hers el f out before the ba l e, Ri ka rd fi na l l y l ea s hed her, a fter whi ch s he fl ew a l ong s tea di l y, purri ng a nd chi rpi ng, by hi s s i de. The s ea l a y before hi m; s omewhere benea th the cl i ffs the enemy force hi s brother l ed wa s hi dden. The roa d wound down growi ng s a ndi er, the s ea a ppea ri ng to ri ght or l e a l wa ys nea rer. Abruptl y the roa d fel l a wa y; the whi te hors e l ea ped the tenfoot drop a nd ga l l oped out over the bea ch. As he ca me out from benea th the dunes Ri ka rd s a w a l ong l i ne of men s trung out on the s a nd, a nd behi nd them three bl a ck-prowed s hi ps . Hi s own men were s cra mbl i ng down the drop, s wa rmi ng over the dunes , bl ue fla gs s na ppi ng i n the s ea wi nd, voi ces fa i nt a ga i ns t the s ound of the s ea . Wi thout wa rni ng or pa rl ey the two forces met, s word to s word a nd ma n to ma n. Wi th a grea t s hri l l i ng s crea m the gryphon s oa red up, jerki ng the l ea s h from Ri ka rd’s ha nd, then dropped l i ke a fa l con, bea k a nd cl a ws extended, down on a ta l l ma n i n grey, the enemy l ea der. But the ta l l ma n’s s word wa s dra wn. As the i ron bea k s na pped on hi s s houl der, tryi ng to get the throa t, the i ron s word ja bbed out a nd up, s l a s hi ng the gryphon’s bel l y. She doubl ed up i n a i r a nd fel l , knocki ng the ma n down wi th the s weep of her grea t wi ng, s crea mi ng, bl a ckeni ng the s a nd wi th bl ood. The ta l l ma n s ta ggered up a nd s l a s hed off her hea d a nd wi ngs , turni ng ha l f bl i nded wi th s a nd a nd bl ood onl y when Ri ka rd wa s a l mos t on hi m. Wi thout a word he turned, l i i ng hi s s tea mi ng s word to pa rry Ri ka rd’s bl ow. He tri ed to s tri ke a t the hors e’s l egs , but got no cha nce, for the bea s t woul d ba ck a nd rea r a nd run a t hi m, Ri ka rd’s s word s l a s hi ng down from a bove. The ta l l ma n’s a rms bega n to grow hea vy, hi s brea th ca me i n ga s ps . Ri ka rd ga ve no qua rter. Once more the ta l l ma n ra i s ed hi s s word, l unged, a nd took the whi zzi ng s l a s h of hi s brother’s s word s tra i ght a cros s hi s upl i ed fa ce. He fel l wi thout a word. Brown s a nd fel l over hi s body i n a l i l e s hower from the whi te s ta l l i on’s hoofs a s Ri ka rd s purred ba ck to the thi ck of the fi ght. The a a ckers fought on doggedl y, a l wa ys fewer of them, a nd thos e few bei ng pus hed ba ck s tep by s tep towa rds the s ea . When onl y a knot of twenty or s o rema i ned they broke, s pri n ng des pera tel y for the s hi ps , pus hi ng them off ches t-deep i n the brea kers , cl a mberi ng a boa rd. Ri ka rd s houted to hi s men. They ca me to hi m a cros s the s a nd, pi cki ng thei r wa y a mong ha cked corps es . The ba dl y wounded tri ed to cra wl to hi m on ha nds a nd knees . Al l tha t coul d wa l k ga thered i n ra nks i n a hol l ow behi nd the dune on whi ch Ri ka rd s tood. Behi nd hi m, out on deep wa ter, the three bl a ck s hi ps l a y moti onl es s , ba l a nced on thei r oa rs . Ri ka rd s a t down, a l one on the dune-top a mong the ra nk gra s s . He bowed hi s hea d a nd put hi s ha nds over hi s fa ce. Nea r hi m the whi te hors e s tood s l l a s a hors e of s tone. Bel ow hi m hi s men s tood s i l ent. Behi nd hi m on the bea ch the ta l l ma n, hi s fa ce obl i tera ted i n bl ood, l a y nea r the body of the gryphon, a nd the other dea d l a y s ta ri ng a t the s ky where no s un s hone. A l i l e gus t of wi nd bl ew by. Ri ka rd ra i s ed hi s fa ce, whi ch though young wa s very gri m. He s i gna l l ed hi s ca pta i ns , s wung up i nto the s a ddl e, a nd s et off round the dunes a nd ba ck towa rds the ci ty a t a trot, not wa i ng to s ee the bl a ck s hi ps s teer i n to s hore where thei r s ol di ers coul d boa rd them, or hi s own a rmy fil l up i ts ra nks a nd come ma rchi ng behi nd hi m. When the gryphon s wooped s crea mi ng overhea d he ra i s ed hi s a rm, gri nni ng a t the grea t crea ture a s s he tri ed to perch on hi s gl oved wri s t, fl a ppi ng her wi ngs a nd s creechi ng l i ke a tomca t. “You no-good gryphon,” he s a i d, “you hen, go home to your chi cken coop!” Ins ul ted, the mons ter ya wped a nd s a i l ed off ea s twa rd towa rds the ci ty. Behi nd hi m hi s a rmy wound upwa rd through the hi l l s , l ea vi ng no tra ck. Behi nd them the brown s a nd l a y s mooth a s s i l k, s ta i nl es s . The bl a ck s hi ps , s a i l s s et, a l rea dy s tood out wel l to s ea . In the prow of the fi rs t s tood a ta l l , gri m-fa ced ma n i n grey. Ta ki ng a n ea s i er roa d homewa rd, Ri ka rd pa s s ed not fa r from the four-l egged hut on the hea dl a nd. The wi tch s tood i n the doorwa y, ha i l i ng hi m. He ga l l oped over, a nd, dra wi ng rei n ri ght a t the ga te of the l i l e ya rd, he l ooked a t the young wi tch. She wa s bri ght a nd da rk a s coa l s , her bl a ck ha i r whi pped i n the s ea wi nd. She l ooked a t hi m, whi te-a rmored on a whi te hors e. “Pri nce,” s he s a i d, “you’l l go to ba ttl e once too often.” He l a ughed. “Wha t s houl d I do—l et my brother l a y s i ege to the ci ty?” “Yes , l et hi m. No ma n ca n ta ke the ci ty.” “I know. But my fa ther the ki ng exi l ed hi m, he mus t not s et foot even on our s hore. I’m my fa ther’s s ol di er, I fight a s he comma nds .” The wi tch l ooked out to s ea , then ba ck to the young ma n. Her da rk fa ce s ha rpened, nos e a nd chi n pea ki ng crone-l i ke, eyes fla s hi ng. “Serve a nd be s erved,” s he s a i d, “rul e a nd be rul ed. Your brother chos e nei ther to s erve nor rul e.... Li s ten, pri nce, ta ke ca re.” Her fa ce wa rmed a ga i n to bea uty. “ The s ea bri ngs pres ents thi s morni ng, the wi nd bl ows , the crys ta l s brea k. Ta ke ca re.” Gra vel y he bowed hi s tha nks , then wheel ed hi s hors e a nd wa s gone, whi te a s a gul l over the l ong curve of the dunes . The wi tch went ba ck i nto the hut, gl a nci ng a bout i ts one room to s ee tha t everythi ng wa s i n pl a ce: ba ts , oni ons , ca ul drons , ca rpets , broom, toa d-s tones , crys ta l ba l l s (cra cked through), the thi n cres cent moon hung up on the chi mney, the Books , the fa mi l i a r— She l ooked a ga i n, then hurri ed out a nd ca l l ed “Di cky!” The wi nd from the wes t wa s col d now, bendi ng the coa rs e gra s s down. “Di cky!... Ki tty, ki tty ki tty!” The wi nd ca ught the voi ce from her l i ps , tore i t i nto bi ts a nd bl ew i t a wa y. 25

She s na pped her fingers . The broom ca me zoomi ng out the door, hori zonta l a nd a bout two feet off the ground, whi l e the hut s hi vered a nd hopped a bout i n exci tement. “Shut up!” the wi tch s na pped, a nd the door obedi entl y s l a mmed. Moun ng the broom s he took off i n a l ong gl i di ng s woop s outhwa rds down the bea ch, now a nd then cryi ng out, “Di cky!... Here, ki y, ki y, ki tty!” The young pri nce, rejoi ni ng hi s men, ha d di s mounted to wa l k wi th them. As they rea ched the pa s s a nd s a w the ci ty bel ow them on the pl a i n, he fel t a tug a t hi s cl oa k. “Pri nce—” A l i l e boy, s o l i l e he wa s s l l fa t a nd roundcheeked, s tood wi th a s ca red l ook, hol di ng up a ba ered, s a ndy box. Bes i de hi m a bl a ck ca t s a t s mi l i ng broa dl y. “The s ea brought thi s —i t’s for the pri nce of the l a nd, I know i t i s —pl ea s e ta ke i t!” “Wha t’s i n i t?” “Da rknes s , s i r.” Ri ka rd took the box a nd a er a s l i ght hes i ta on opened i t a l i l e, jus t a cra ck. “It’s pa i nted bl a ck i ns i de,” he s a i d wi th a ha rd gri n. “No, pri nce, trul y i t’s not. Open i t wi der!” Ca u ous l y Ri ka rd l i ed the l i d hi gher, a n i nch or two, a nd peered i n. Then he s hut i t qui ckl y, even a s the chi l d s a i d, “Don’t l et the wi nd bl ow i t out, pri nce!” “I s ha l l ta ke thi s to the ki ng.” “But i t’s for you, s i r—” “Al l s ea gi s a re the ki ng’s . But tha nk you for i t, boy.” They l ooked a t ea ch other for a moment, the l i l e round boy a nd the ha rd s pl endi d youth; then Ri ka rd turned a nd s trode on, whi l e Di cky wa ndered ba ck down the hi l l s , s i l ent a nd di s cons ol a te. He hea rd hi s mother’s voi ce from fa r a wa y to the s outh, a nd tri ed to a ns wer; but the wi nd bl ew hi s ca l l l a ndwa rds , a nd the fa mi l i a r ha d di s a ppea red. The bronze ga tes of the ci ty s wung open a s the troop a pproa ched. Wa tchdogs ba yed, gua rds s tood ri gi d, the peopl e of the ci ty bowed down a s Ri ka rd on hi s hors e cl a ered a t ful l ga l l op up the ma rbl e s treets to the pa l a ce. Enteri ng, he gl a nced up a t the grea t bronze cl ock on the bel l -tower, the hi ghes t of the ni ne whi te towers of the pa l a ce. The movel es s ha nds s a i d ten mi nutes of ten. In the Ha l l of Audi ence hi s fa ther a wa i ted hi m: a fierce grey-ha i red ma n crowned wi th i ron, hi s ha nds cl enched on the hea ds of i ron chi ma era s tha t formed the a rms of the throne. Ri ka rd knel t a nd wi th bowed hea d, never l ooki ng up, reported the s ucces s of hi s fora y. “The Exi l e wa s ki l l ed, wi th the grea ter pa rt of hi s men; the res t fl ed i n thei r s hi ps .” A voi ce a ns wered l i ke a n i ron door movi ng on unus ed hi nges : “Wel l done, pri nce.” “I bri ng you a s ea gi ft, Lord.” Sti l l wi th hea d bowed, Ri ka rd hel d up the wooden box. A l ow s na rl ca me from the throa t of one of the ca rven mons ters of the throne. “ Tha t i s mi ne,” s a i d the ol d ki ng s o ha rs hl y tha t Ri ka rd gl a nced up for a s econd, s eei ng the teeth of the chi ma era s ba red a nd the ki ng’s eyes gl i tteri ng. “Therefore I bri ng i t to you, Lord.” “ Tha t i s mi ne—I ga ve i t to the s ea , I mys el f! And the s ea s pi ts ba ck my gi .” A l ong s i l ence, then the ki ng s poke more s o l y. “Wel l , keep i t, pri nce. The s ea does n’t wa nt i t, nor do I. It’s i n your ha nds . Keep i t— l ocked. Keep i t l ocked, pri nce!” Ri ka rd, on hi s knees , bowed l ower i n tha nks a nd cons ent, then ros e a nd ba cked down the l ong ha l l , never l ooki ng up. As he ca me out i nto the gl i tteri ng a nteroom, offi cers a nd nobl emen ga thered round hi m, rea dy a s us ua l to a s k a bout the ba ttl e, l a ugh, dri nk, a nd cha er. He pa s s ed a mong them wi thout a word or gl a nce a nd went to hi s own qua rters , a l one, ca rryi ng the box ca reful l y i n both ha nds . Hi s bri ght, s ha dowl es s , wi ndowl es s room wa s decora ted on every wa l l wi th pa erns of gol d i ns et wi th topa zes , opa l s , crys ta l s , a nd, mos t vi vi d of a l l jewel s , ca ndl e fla mes movel es s on gol den s conces . He s et the box down on a gl a s s ta bl e, threw off hi s cl oa k, unbuckl ed hi s s wordbel t, a nd s a t down s i ghi ng. The gryphon l oped i n from hi s bedroom, ta l ons ra s pi ng on the mos a i c floor, s tuck her grea t hea d onto hi s knees a nd wa i ted for hi m to s cra tch her fea thery ma ne. There wa s a l s o a ca t prowl i ng a round the room, a s l eek bl a ck one; Ri ka rd took no no ce. The pa l a ce wa s ful l of a ni ma l s , ca ts , hounds , a pes , s qui rrel s , young hi ppogri ffs , whi te mi ce, gers . Every l a dy ha d her uni corn, every cour er ha d a dozen pets . The pri nce ha d onl y one, the gryphon whi ch a l wa ys fought for hi m, hi s one unques oni ng fri end. He s cra tched the gryphon’s ma ne, o en gl a nci ng down to meet the l ovi ng gol den ga ze of her round eyes , now a nd then gl a nci ng too a t the box on the ta bl e. There wa s no key to l ock i t. Mus i c pl a yed s oftl y i n a di s ta nt room, a cea s el es s i nterwea vi ng of notes l i ke the s ound of a founta i n. He turned to l ook a t the cl ock on the ma ntl e, a n orna te s qua re of gol d a nd bl ue ena mel . It wa s ten mi nutes of ten: me to ri s e a nd buckl e on hi s s word, ca l l up hi s men, a nd go to ba l e. The Exi l e wa s returni ng, determi ned to ta ke the ci ty a nd recl a i m hi s ri ght to the throne, hi s i nheri ta nce. Hi s bl a ck s hi ps mus t be dri ven ba ck to s ea . The brothers mus t fight, a nd one mus t di e, a nd the ci ty be s a ved. Ri ka rd ros e, a nd a t once the gryphon jumped up l a s hi ng her ta i l , ea ger for the fight. “Al l ri ght, come a l ong!” Ri ka rd tol d her, but hi s voi ce wa s col d. He took up hi s s word i n the pea rl -encrus ted s hea th a nd buckl ed i t on, a nd the gryphon whi ned wi th exci tement a nd rubbed her bea k on hi s ha nd. He di d not res pond. He wa s red a nd s a d, he l onged for s omethi ng —for wha t? To hea r mus i c tha t cea s ed, to s pea k to hi s brother once before they fought... he di d not know. Hei r a nd defender, he mus t obey. He s et the s i l ver hel met on hi s hea d a nd turned to pi ck up hi s cl oa k, flung over a cha i r. The pea rl y s hea th s l ung from 26

hi s bel t cl a ered a ga i ns t s omethi ng behi nd hi m; he turned a nd s a w the box, l yi ng on the floor, open. As he s tood l ooki ng a t i t wi th the s a me col d, a bs ent l ook, a l i l e bl a cknes s l i ke s moke ga thered a bout i t on the floor. He s tooped a nd pi cked i t up, a nd da rknes s ra n out over hi s ha nds . The gryphon ba cked a wa y, whi ni ng. Ta l l a nd whi te-a rmored, fa i r-ha i red, s i l ver-ca pped i n the gl i eri ng s ha dowl es s room, Ri ka rd s tood hol di ng the open box, wa tchi ng the thi ck dus k tha t dri pped s l owl y from i t. Al l a round hi s body now, bel ow hi s ha nds , wa s twi l i ght. He s tood s l l . Then s l owl y he ra i s ed the box up, cl ea r up over hi s hea d, a nd turned i t ups i de down. Da rknes s flowed over hi s fa ce. He l ooked a bout hi m, for the di s ta nt mus i c ha d s topped a nd thi ngs were very s i l ent. Ca ndl es burned, dots of l i ght pi cki ng out flecks of gol d a nd fla s hes of vi ol et from wa l l s a nd cei l i ng. But a l l the corners were da rk, behi nd ea ch cha i r l a y da rknes s , a nd a s Ri ka rd turned hi s hea d hi s s ha dow l ea pt a l ong the wa l l . He moved then, qui ckl y, droppi ng the box, for i n one of the bl a ck comers he ha d gl i mps ed the reddi s h gl ow of two grea t eyes . —The gryphon, of cours e. He hel d out hi s ha nd a nd s poke to her. She di d not move, but ga ve a queer meta l l i c cry. “Come on! Are you a fra i d of the da rk?” he s a i d, a nd then a l l a t once wa s a fra i d hi ms el f. He drew hi s s word. Nothi ng moved. He took a s tep ba ckwa rd towa rds the door; a nd the mons ter jumped. He s a w the bl a ck wi ngs s prea d a cros s the cei l i ng, the i ron bea k, the ta l ons ; her bul k wa s on hi m before he coul d s ta b upwa rds . He wres tl ed, the grea t bea k s na ppi ng a t hi s throa t a nd the ta l ons tea ri ng a t hi s a rms a nd ches t, l l he got hi s s word-a rm free a nd coul d s l a s h down, pul l a wa y a nd s l a s h a ga i n. The s econd bl ow ha l f s evered the gryphon’s neck. She dropped off, l a y wri thi ng i n the s ha dows a mong s pl i nters of gl a s s , then l a y s ti l l . Ri ka rd’s s word dropped cl a eri ng on the floor. Hi s ha nds were s cky wi th hi s own bl ood, a nd he coul d ha rdl y s ee; the bea ng of the gryphon’s wi ngs ha d bl own out or knocked over every ca ndl e but one. He groped hi s wa y to a cha i r a nd s a t down. A er a mi nute, though he s l l ga s ped for brea th, he di d a s he ha d done on the dune-top a er ba l e: bowed hi s hea d a nd hi d hi s fa ce i n hi s ha nds . It wa s compl etel y s i l ent. The one ca ndl e fli ckered i n i ts s conce, mi rrored feebl y i n a cl us ter of topa zes on the wa l l behi nd i t. Ri ka rd ra i s ed hi s hea d. The gryphon l a y s l l . Its bl ood ha d s prea d out i n a pool , bl a ck a s the firs t s pi l t da rknes s from the box. Its i ron bea k wa s open, i ts eyes open, l i ke two red s tones . “It’s dea d,” s a i d a s ma l l s o voi ce, a s the wi tch’s ca t ca me pi cki ng i ts wa y del i ca tel y a mong the fra gments of the s ma s hed ta bl e. “Once a nd for a l l . Li s ten, pri nce!” The ca t s a t down curl i ng i ts ta i l nea tl y round i ts pa w. Ri ka rd s tood mo onl es s , bl a nkfa ced, l l a s udden s ound ma de hi m s ta rt: a l i l e ng! nea rby. Then from the tower overhea d a huge dul l bel l -s troke reverbera ted i n the s tone of the fl oor, i n hi s ea rs , i n hi s bl ood. The cl ocks were s tri ki ng ten. There wa s a poundi ng a t hi s door, a nd s houts echoed down the pa l a ce corri dors mi xed wi th the l a s t boomi ng s trokes of the bel l , s crea ms of s ca red a ni ma l s , ca l l s , comma nds . “You’l l be l a te for the ba ttl e, pri nce,” s a i d the ca t. Ri ka rd groped a mong bl ood a nd s ha dow for hi s s word, s hea thed i t, fl ung on hi s cl oa k a nd went to the door. “ There’l l be a n a ernoon toda y,” the ca t s a i d, “a nd a twi l i ght, a nd ni ght wi l l fa l l . At ni gh a l l one of you wi l l come home to the ci ty, you or your brother. But onl y one of you, pri nce.” Ri ka rd s tood s ti l l a moment. “Is the s un s hi ni ng now, outs i de?” “Yes , i t i s —now.” “Wel l , then, i t’s worth i t,” the young ma n s a i d, a nd opened the door a nd s trode on out i nto the hubbub a nd pa ni c of the s unl i t ha l l s , hi s s ha dow fa l l i ng bl a ck behi nd hi m. THE WORD OF UNBINDING

The two s tori es tha t fol l ow were my firs t a pproa ch to a nd expl ora on of the “s econda ry worl d” of Ea rths ea , a bout whi ch I l a ter wrote three novel s . I di dn’t know much a bout the pl a ce a t firs t, a nd rea ders fa mi l i a r wi th the tri l ogy wi l l no ce tha t trol l s beca me ex nct i n Ea rths ea a t s ome poi nt, a nd tha t the hi s tory of the dra gon Yeva ud i s s omewha t obs cure. (He mus t ha ve been on Sa ns Is l a nd s ome deca des or centuri es before Ged found hi m, a nd bound hi m, on the Is l e of Pendor.) But thi s i s onl y to be expected of dra gons , who do not s ubmi t to the uni di rec ona l ca us a l requi rements of hi s tory, bei ng myths , a nd nei ther ti mebi ndi ng nor ti mebound. "The Rul e of Na mes ” fi rs t expl ores a n es s enti a l el ement of how ma gi c works i n Ea rths ea . “The Word of Unbi ndi ng” fores ha dows the end of the l a s t book of the tri l ogy, The Fa rthes t Shore, i n i ts i ma gery of the worl d of the dea d. It a l s o revea l s a certa i n obs es s i on wi th trees , whi ch, once you no ce them, keep croppi ng up throughout my work. I thi nk I a m defini tel y the mos t a rborea l s ci ence fic on wri ter. It's a l l ri ght for the res t of you who cl i mbed down, a nd devel oped oppos a bl e thumbs , a nd erect pos ture, a nd a l l tha t. There’s a few of us s ti l l up here s wi ngi ng. Where wa s he? The floor wa s ha rd a nd s l i my, the a i r bl a ck a nd s nki ng, a nd tha t wa s a l l there wa s . Except a hea da che. Lyi ng fla t on the cl a mmy floor Fes n moa ned, a nd then s a i d, “Sta ff!” When hi s a l derwood wi za rd’s s ta ff di d not come to hi s ha nd, he knew he wa s i n peri l . He s a t up, a nd not ha vi ng hi s s ta ff wi th whi ch to ma ke a proper l i ght, he s truck a s pa rk between finger a nd thumb, mu eri ng a certa i n Word. A bl ue wi l l o’ the wi s p s pra ng from the s pa rk a nd rol l ed feebl y through the a i r, s pu eri ng. “Up,” s a i d Fes n, a nd the fireba l l wobbl ed upwa rd l l i t l i t a va ul ted tra pdoor very hi gh a bove, s o hi gh tha t Fes n projec ng i nto the fireba l l momenta ri l y s a w hi s own fa ce forty feet bel ow a s a pa l e dot i n the da rknes s . The l i ght s truck no reflec ons i n the da mp wa l l s ; they ha d been woven out of ni ght, by ma gi c. He rejoi ned hi ms el f a nd s a i d, “Out.” The ba l l expi red. Fes n s a t i n 27

the da rk, cra cki ng hi s knuckl es . He mus t ha ve been overs pel l ed from behi nd, by s urpri s e; for the l a s t memory he ha d wa s of wa l ki ng through hi s own woods a t eveni ng ta l ki ng wi th the trees . La tel y, i n thes e l one yea rs i n the mi ddl e of hi s l i fe, he ha d been burdened wi th a s ens e of wa s te, of uns pent s trength; s o, needi ng to l ea rn pa ence, he ha d l e the vi l l a ges a nd gone to convers e wi th trees , es peci a l l y oa ks , ches tnuts , a nd the grey a l ders whos e roots a re i n profound communi ca on wi th runni ng wa ter. It ha d been s i x months s i nce he ha d s poken to a huma n bei ng. He ha d been bus y wi th es s en a l s , ca s ng no s pel l s a nd botheri ng no one. So who ha d s pel l bound hi m a nd s hut hi m i n thi s reeki ng wel l ? “Who?” he dema nded of the wa l l s , a nd s l owl y a na me ga thered on them a nd ra n down to hi m l i ke a thi ck bl a ck drop s wea ted out from pores of s tone a nd s pores of fungus : “Vol l .” For a moment Fes ti n wa s i n a col d s wea t hi ms el f. He ha d hea rd firs t l ong a go of Vol l the Fel l , who wa s s a i d to be more tha n wi za rd yet l es s tha n ma n; who pa s s ed from i s l a nd to i s l a nd of the Outer Rea ch, undoi ng the works of the Anci ents , ens l a vi ng men, cu ng fores ts a nd s poi l i ng fiel ds , a nd s ea l i ng i n underground tombs a ny wi za rd or Ma ge who tri ed to comba t hi m. Refugees from rui ned i s l a nds tol d a l wa ys the s a me ta l e, tha t he ca me a t eveni ng on a da rk wi nd over the s ea . Hi s s l a ves fol l owed i n s hi ps ; thes e they ha d s een. But none of them ha d ever s een Vol l .... There were ma ny men a nd crea tures of evi l wi l l a mong the Is l a nds , a nd Fes n, a young wa rl ock i ntent on hi s tra i ni ng, ha d not pa i d much heed to thes e ta l es of Vol l the Fel l . “I ca n protect thi s i s l a nd,” he ha d thought, knowi ng hi s untri ed power, a nd ha d returned to hi s oa ks a nd a l ders , the s ound of wi nd i n thei r l ea ves , the rhythm of growth i n thei r round trunks a nd l i mbs a nd twi gs , the ta s te of s unl i ght on l ea ves or da rk groundwa ter a round roots .— Where were they now, the trees , hi s ol d compa ni ons ? Ha d Vol l des troyed the fores t? Awa ke a t l a s t a nd up on hi s feet, Fes n ma de two broa d mo ons wi th ri gi d ha nds , s hou ng a l oud a Na me tha t woul d burs t a l l l ocks a nd brea k open a ny ma n-ma de door. But thes e wa l l s i mpregna ted wi th ni ght a nd the na me of thei r bui l der di d not heed, di d not hea r. The na me re-echoed ba ck, cl a ppi ng i n Fes n’s ea rs s o tha t he fel l on hi s knees , hi di ng hi s hea d i n hi s a rms l l the echoes di ed a wa y i n the va ul ts a bove hi m. Then, s ti l l s ha ken by the ba ckfi re, he s a t broodi ng. They were ri ght; Vol l wa s s trong. Here on hi s own ground, wi thi n thi s s pel l -bui l t dungeon, hi s ma gi c woul d wi ths ta nd a ny di rect a a ck; a nd Fes n’s s trength wa s ha l ved by the l os s of hi s s ta ff. But not even hi s ca ptor coul d ta ke from hi m hi s powers , rel a ve onl y to hi ms el f, of Projec ng a nd Tra ns formi ng. So, a er rubbi ng hi s now doubl y a chi ng hea d, he tra ns formed. Qui etl y hi s body mel ted a wa y i nto a cl oud of fi ne mi s t. La zy, tra i l i ng, the mi s t ros e off the floor, dri i ng up a l ong the s l i my wa l l s un l i t found, where va ul t met wa l l , a ha i rl i ne cra ck. Through thi s , dropl et by dropl et, i t s eeped. It wa s a l mos t a l l through the cra ck when a hot wi nd, hot a s a furna ce-bl a s t, s truck a t i t, s ca eri ng the mi s t-drops , dryi ng them. Hurri edl y the mi s t s ucked i ts el f ba ck i nto the va ul t, s pi ra l l ed to the floor, took on Fes n’s own form a nd l a y there pa n ng. Tra ns forma on i s a n emo ona l s tra i n to i ntroverted wa rl ocks of Fes n’s s ort; when to tha t s tra i n i s a dded the s hock of fa ci ng unhuma n dea th i n one’s a s s umed s ha pe, the experi ence becomes horri bl e. Fes n l a y for a whi l e merel y brea thi ng. He wa s a l s o a ngry wi th hi ms el f. It ha d been a pre y s i mpl e-mi nded no on to es ca pe a s a mi s t, a fter a l l . Every fool knew tha t tri ck. Vol l ha d proba bl y jus t l eft a hot wi nd wa i ti ng. Fes ti n ga thered hi ms el f i nto a s ma l l bl a ck ba t, fl ew up to the cei l i ng, retra ns formed i nto a thi n s trea m of pl a i n a i r, a nd s eeped through the cra ck. Thi s me he got cl ea r out a nd wa s bl owi ng s o l y down the ha l l i n whi ch he found hi ms el f towa rds a wi ndow, when a s ha rp s ens e of peri l ma de hi m pul l together, s na ppi ng hi ms el f i nto the firs t s ma l l , coherent s ha pe tha t ca me to mi nd—a gol d ri ng. It wa s jus t a s wel l . The hurri ca ne of a rcti c a i r tha t woul d ha ve di s pers ed hi s a i r-form i n unreca l l a bl e cha os merel y chi l l ed hi s ri ngform s l i ghtl y. As the s torm pa s s ed he l a y on the ma rbl e pa vement, wonderi ng whi ch form mi ght get out the wi ndow qui ckes t. Too l a te, he bega n to rol l a wa y. An enormous bl a nk-fa ced trol l s trode ca ta cl ys mi ca l l y a cros s the floor, s topped, ca ught the qui ck-rol l i ng ri ng a nd pi cked i t up i n a huge, l i mes tone-l i ke ha nd. The trol l s trode to the tra pdoor, l i ed i t by a n i ron ha ndl e a nd a mu ered cha rm, a nd dropped Fes n down i nto the da rknes s . He fel l s tra i ght for forty feet a nd l a nded on the s tone floor —cl i nk. Res umi ng hi s true form he s a t up, rueful l y rubbi ng a brui s ed el bow. Enough of thi s tra ns forma on on a n empty s toma ch. He l onged bi erl y for hi s s ta ff, wi th whi ch he coul d ha ve s ummoned up a ny a mount of di nner. Wi thout i t, though he coul d cha nge hi s own form a nd exert certa i n s pel l s a nd powers , he coul d not tra ns form or s ummon to hi m a ny ma teri a l thi ng—nei ther l i ghtni ng nor a l a mb chop. “Pa ence,” Fes n tol d hi ms el f, a nd when he ha d got hi s brea th he di s s ol ved hi s body i nto the i nfini te del i ca cy of vol a l e oi l s , becomi ng the a roma of a fryi ng l a mb chop. He dri ed once more through the cra ck. The wa i ng trol l s ni ffed s us pi ci ous l y, but a l rea dy Fes n ha d regrouped hi ms el f i nto a fa l con, wi ngi ng s tra i ght for the wi ndow. The trol l l unged a er hi m, mi s s ed by ya rds , a nd bel l owed i n a va s t s tony voi ce, “ The ha wk, get the ha wk!” Swoopi ng over the encha nted ca s tl e towa rds hi s fores t tha t l a y da rk to wes twa rd, s unl i ght a nd s ea -gl a re da zzl i ng hi s eyes , Fes n rode the wi nd l i ke a n a rrow. But a qui cker a rrow found hi m. Cryi ng out, he fel l . Sun a nd s ea a nd towers s pun a round hi m a nd went out. He woke a ga i n on the da nk floor of the dungeon, ha nds a nd ha i r a nd l i ps wet wi th hi s own bl ood. The a rrow ha d s truck hi s pi ni on a s a fa l con, hi s s houl der a s a ma n. Lyi ng s l l , he mumbl ed a s pel l to cl os e the wound. Pres entl y he wa s a bl e to s i t up, a nd recol l ect a l onger, deeper s pel l of hea l i ng. But he ha d l os t a good dea l of bl ood, a nd wi th i t, power. A chi l l ha d s e l ed i n the ma rrow of hi s bones whi ch even the hea l i ng-s pel l coul d not wa rm. There wa s da rknes s i n hi s eyes , even when he s truck a wi l l o’ the wi s p a nd l i t the reeki ng a i r: the s a me da rk mi s t he ha d s een, a s he flew, overha ngi ng hi s fores t a nd the l i l e towns of hi s l a nd. It wa s up to hi m to protect tha t l a nd. He coul d not a empt di rect es ca pe a ga i n. He wa s too wea k a nd red. Trus ng hi s power too much, he ha d l os t hi s s trength. Now wha tever s ha pe he took woul d s ha re hi s wea knes s , a nd be tra pped.

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Shi veri ng wi th col d, he crouched there, l e ng the fireba l l s pu er out wi th a l a s t whi ff of metha ne—ma rs h ga s . The s mel l brought to hi s mi nd’s eye the ma rs hes s tretchi ng from the fores t wa l l down to the s ea , hi s bel oved ma rs hes where no men ca me, where i n fa l l the s wa ns flew l ong a nd l evel , where between s l l pool s a nd reed-i s l a nds the qui ck, s i l ent s ea wa rd s trea ml ets ra n. Oh, to be a fis h i n one of thos e s trea ms ; or be er yet to be fa rther ups trea m, nea r the s pri ngs , i n the fores t i n the s ha dow of the trees , i n the cl ea r brown ba ckwa ter under a n a l der’s roots , res ti ng hi dden... Thi s wa s a grea t ma gi c. Fes ti n ha d no more performed i t tha n ha s a ny ma n who i n exi l e or da nger l ongs for the ea rth a nd wa ters of hi s home, s eei ng a nd yea rni ng over the doors i l l of hi s hous e, the ta bl e where he ha s ea ten, the bra nches outs i de the wi ndow of the room where he ha s s l ept. Onl y i n drea ms do a ny but the grea t Ma ges rea l i ze thi s ma gi c of goi ng home. But Fes n, wi th the col d creepi ng out from hi s ma rrow i nto nerves a nd vei ns , s tood up between the bl a ck wa l l s , ga thered hi s wi l l together ti l l i t s hone l i ke a ca ndl e i n the da rknes s of hi s fl es h, a nd bega n to work the grea t a nd s i l ent ma gi c. The wa l l s were gone. He wa s i n the ea rth, rocks a nd vei ns of gra ni te for bones , groundwa ter for bl ood, the roots of thi ngs for nerves . Li ke a bl i nd worm he moved through the ea rth wes twa rd, s l owl y, da rknes s before a nd behi nd. Then a l l a t once cool nes s flowed a l ong hi s ba ck a nd bel l y, a buoya nt, unres i s ta nt, i nexha us bl e ca res s . Wi th hi s s i des he ta s ted the wa ter, fel t currentflow; a nd wi th l i dl es s eyes he s a w before hi m the deep brown pool between the grea t bu res s -roots of a n a l der. He da rted forwa rd, s i l very, i nto s ha dow. He ha d got free. He wa s home. The wa ter ra n mel es s l y from i ts cl ea r s pri ng. He l a y on the s a nd of the pool ’s bo om l e ng runni ng wa ter, s tronger tha n a ny s pel l of hea l i ng, s oothe hi s wound a nd wi th i ts cool nes s wa s h a wa y the bl ea ker col d tha t ha d entered hi m. But a s he res ted he fel t a nd hea rd a s ha ki ng a nd tra mpl i ng i n the ea rth. Who wa l ked now i n hi s fores t? Too wea ry to try to cha nge form, he hi d hi s gl ea mi ng trout-body under the a rch of the a l der root, a nd wa i ted. Huge grey fingers groped i n the wa ter, roi l i ng the s a nd. In the di mnes s a bove wa ter va gue fa ces , bl a nk eyes l oomed a nd va ni s hed, rea ppea red. Nets a nd ha nds groped, mi s s ed, mi s s ed a ga i n, then ca ught a nd l i ed hi m wri thi ng up i nto the a i r. He s truggl ed to ta ke ba ck hi s own s ha pe a nd coul d not; hi s own s pel l of homecomi ng bound hi m. He wri thed i n the net, ga s pi ng i n the dry, bri ght, terri bl e a i r, drowni ng. The a gony went on, a nd he knew nothi ng beyond i t. A er a l ong me a nd l i l e by l i l e he beca me a wa re tha t he wa s i n hi s huma n form a ga i n; s ome s ha rp, s our l i qui d wa s bei ng forced down hi s throa t. Ti me l a ps ed a ga i n, a nd he found hi ms el f s pra wl ed fa ce down on the da nk floor of the va ul t. He wa s ba ck i n the power of hi s enemy. And, though he coul d brea the a ga i n, he wa s not very fa r from dea th. The chi l l wa s a l l through hi m now; a nd the trol l s , Vol l ’s s erva nts , mus t ha ve crus hed the fra gi l e trout-body, for when he moved, hi s ri bca ge a nd one forea rm s ta bbed wi th pa i n. Broken a nd wi thout s trength, he l a y a t the bo om of the wel l of ni ght. There wa s no power i n hi m to cha nge s ha pe; there wa s no wa y out, but one. Lyi ng there mo onl es s , a l mos t but not qui te beyond the rea ch of pa i n, Fes n thought: Why ha s he not ki l l ed me? Why does he keep me here a l i ve? Why ha s he never been s een? Wi th wha t eyes ca n he be s een, on wha t ground does he wa l k? He fea rs me, though I ha ve no s trength l eft. They s a y tha t a l l the wi za rds a nd men of power whom he ha s defea ted l i ve on s ea l ed i n tombs l i ke thi s , l i ve on yea r a er yea r tryi ng to get free.... But i f one chos e not to l i ve? So Fes n ma de hi s choi ce. Hi s l a s t thought wa s , If I a m wrong, men wi l l thi nk I wa s a cowa rd. But he di d not l i nger on thi s thought. Turni ng hi s hea d a l i l e to the s i de he cl os ed hi s eyes , took a l a s t deep brea th, a nd whi s pered the word of unbi ndi ng, whi ch i s onl y s poken once. Thi s wa s not tra ns forma on. He wa s not cha nged. Hi s body, the l ong l egs a nd a rms , the cl ever ha nds , the eyes tha t ha d l i ked to l ook on trees a nd s trea ms , l a y uncha nged, onl y s l l , perfectl y s l l a nd ful l of col d. But the wa l l s were gone. The va ul ts bui l t by ma gi c were gone, a nd the rooms a nd towers ; a nd the fores t, a nd the s ea , a nd the s ky of eveni ng. They were a l l gone, a nd Fes n went s l owl y down the fa r s l ope of the hi l l of bei ng, under new s ta rs . In l i fe he ha d ha d grea t power; s o here he di d not forget. Li ke a ca ndl e fla me he moved i n the da rknes s of the wi der l a nd. And rememberi ng he ca l l ed out hi s enemy’s na me: “Vol l !” Ca l l ed, una bl e to wi ths ta nd, Vol l ca me towa rds hi m, a thi ck pa l e s ha pe i n the s ta rl i ght. Fes n a pproa ched, a nd the other cowered a nd s crea med a s i f burnt. Fes n fol l owed when he fled, fol l owed hi m cl os e. A l ong wa y they went, over dry l a va -flows from the grea t ex nct vol ca noes rea ri ng thei r cones a ga i ns t the unna med s ta rs , a cros s the s purs of s i l ent hi l l s , through va l l eys of s hort bl a ck gra s s , pa s t towns or down thei r unl i t s treets between hous es through whos e wi ndows no fa ce l ooked. The s ta rs hung i n the s ky; none s et, none ros e. There wa s no cha nge here. No da y woul d come. But they went on, Fes n a l wa ys dri vi ng the other before hi m, l l they rea ched a pl a ce where once a ri ver ha d run, very l ong a go: a ri ver from the l i vi ng l a nds . In the dry s trea mbed, a mong boul ders , a dea d body l a y: tha t of a n ol d ma n, na ked, fla t eyes s ta ri ng a t the s ta rs tha t a re i nnocent of dea th. “Enter i t,” Fes n s a i d. The Vol l -s ha dow whi mpered, but Fes n ca me cl os er. Vol l cowered a wa y, s tooped, a nd entered i n the open mouth of hi s own dea d body. At once the corps e va ni s hed. Unma rked, s ta i nl es s , the dry boul ders gl ea med i n s ta rl i ght. Fes n s tood s l l a whi l e, then s l owl y s a t down a mong the grea t rocks to res t. To res t, not s l eep; for he mus t keep gua rd here un l Vol l ’s body, s ent ba ck to i ts gra ve, ha d turned to dus t, a l l evi l power gone, s ca ered by the wi nd a nd wa s hed s ea wa rd by the ra i n. He mus t keep wa tch over thi s pl a ce where once dea th ha d found a wa y ba ck i nto the other l a nd. Pa ent now, i nfini tel y pa ent, Fes n wa i ted a mong the 29

rocks where no ri ver woul d ever run a ga i n, i n the hea rt of the country whi ch ha s no s ea coa s t. The s ta rs s tood s l l a bove hi m; a nd a s he wa tched them, s l owl y, very s l owl y he bega n to forget the voi ce of s trea ms a nd the s ound of ra i n on the l ea ves of the fores ts of l i fe. THE RULE OF NAMES

Mr. Underhi l l ca me out from under hi s hi l l , s mi l i ng a nd brea thi ng ha rd. Ea ch brea th s hot out of hi s nos tri l s a s a doubl e puff of s tea m, s now-whi te i n the morni ng s uns hi ne. Mr. Underhi l l l ooked up a t the bri ght December s ky a nd s mi l ed wi der tha n ever, s howi ng s now-whi te teeth. Then he went down to the vi l l a ge. “Morni ng, Mr. Underhi l l ,” s a i d the vi l l a gers a s he pa s s ed them i n the na rrow s treet between hous es wi th coni ca l , overha ngi ng roofs l i ke the fa t red ca ps of toa ds tool s . “Morni ng, morni ng!” he repl i ed to ea ch. (It wa s of cours e ba d l uck to wi s h a nyone a good morni ng; a s i mpl e s ta tement of the me of da y wa s qui te enough, i n a pl a ce s o permea ted wi th Influences a s Sa ns Is l a nd, where a ca rel es s a djec ve mi ght cha nge the wea ther for a week.) Al l of them s poke to hi m, s ome wi th a ffec on, s ome wi th a ffec ona te di s da i n. He wa s a l l the l i l e i s l a nd ha d i n the wa y of a wi za rd, a nd s o des erved res pect—but how coul d you res pect a l i l e fa t ma n of fi y who wa ddl ed a l ong wi th hi s toes turned i n, brea thi ng s tea m a nd s mi l i ng? He wa s no grea t s ha kes a s a workma n ei ther. Hi s fireworks were fa i rl y el a bora te but hi s el i xi rs were wea k. Wa rts he cha rmed off frequentl y rea ppea red a er three da ys ; toma toes he encha nted grew no bi gger tha n ca ntel oupes ; a nd thos e ra re mes when a s tra nge s hi p s topped a t Sa ns Ha rbor, Mr. Underhi l l a l wa ys s ta yed under hi s hi l l —for fea r, he expl a i ned, of the evi l eye. He wa s , i n other words , a wi za rd the wa y wa l l eyed Ga n wa s a ca rpenter: by defa ul t. The vi l l a gers ma de do wi th ba dl y-hung doors a nd i neffi ci ent s pel l s , for thi s genera ti on, a nd rel i eved thei r a nnoya nce by trea ng Mr. Underhi l l qui te fa mi l i a rl y, a s a mere fel l ow-vi l l a ger. They even a s ked hi m to di nner. Once he a s ked s ome of them to di nner, a nd s erved a s pl endi d repa s t, wi th s i l ver, crys ta l , da ma s k, roa s t goos e, s pa rkl i ng Andra des ’639, a nd pl um puddi ng wi th ha rd s a uce; but he wa s s o nervous a l l through the mea l tha t i t took the joy out of i t, a nd bes i des , everybody wa s hungry a ga i n ha l f a n hour a erwa rd. He di d not l i ke a nyone to vi s i t hi s ca ve, not even the a nteroom, beyond whi ch i n fa ct nobody ha d ever got. When he s a w peopl e a pproa chi ng the hi l l he a l wa ys ca me tro ng out to meet them. “Let’s s i t out here under the pi ne trees !” he woul d s a y, s mi l i ng a nd wa vi ng towa rds the fir grove, or i f i t wa s ra i ni ng, “Let’s go ha ve a dri nk a t the i nn, eh?” though everybody knew he dra nk nothi ng s tronger tha n wel l -wa ter. Some of the vi l l a ge chi l dren, tea s ed by tha t l ocked ca ve, poked a nd pri ed a nd ma de ra i ds whi l e Mr. Underhi l l wa s a wa y; but the s ma l l door tha t l ed i nto the i nner cha mber wa s s pel l -s hut, a nd i t s eemed for once to be a n effec ve s pel l . Once a coupl e of boys , thi nki ng the wi za rd wa s over on the Wes t Shore curi ng Mrs . Ruuna ’s s i ck donkey, brought a crowba r a nd a ha tchet up there, but a t the firs t wha ck of the ha tchet on the door there ca me a roa r of wra th from i ns i de, a nd a cl oud of purpl e s tea m. Mr. Underhi l l ha d got home ea rl y. The boys fled. He di d not come out, a nd the boys ca me to no ha rm, though they s a i d you coul dn’t bel i eve wha t a huge hooti ng howl i ng hi s s i ng horri bl e bel l ow tha t l i ttl e fa t ma n coul d ma ke unl es s you’d hea rd i t. Hi s bus i nes s i n town thi s da y wa s three dozen fres h eggs a nd a pound of l i ver; a l s o a s top a t Sea ca pta i n Fogeno’s co a ge to renew the s eei ng-cha rm on the ol d ma n’s eyes (qui te us el es s when a ppl i ed to a ca s e of deta ched re na , but Mr. Underhi l l kept tryi ng), a nd fina l l y a cha t wi th ol d Goody Gul d, the concer na -ma ker’s wi dow. Mr. Underhi l l ’s fri ends were mos tl y ol d peopl e. He wa s mi d wi th the s trong young men of the vi l l a ge, a nd the gi rl s were s hy of hi m. “He ma kes me nervous , he s mi l es s o much,” they a l l s a i d, pou ng, twi s ng s i l ky ri ngl ets round a finger. “Nervous ” wa s a newfa ngl ed word, a nd thei r mothers a l l repl i ed gri ml y, “Nervous my foot, s i l l i nes s i s the word for i t. Mr. Underhi l l i s a very res pecta bl e wi za rd!” A er l ea vi ng Goody Gul d, Mr. Underhi l l pa s s ed by the s chool , whi ch wa s bei ng hel d thi s da y out on the common. Si nce no one on Sa ns Is l a nd wa s l i tera te, there were no books to l ea rn to rea d from a nd no des ks to ca rve i ni a l s on a nd no bl a ckboa rds to era s e, a nd i n fa ct no s chool hous e. On ra i ny da ys the chi l dren met i n the l o of the Communa l Ba rn, a nd got ha y i n thei r pa nts ; on s unny da ys the s chool tea cher, Pa l a ni , took them a nywhere s he fel t l i ke. Toda y, s urrounded by thi rty i nteres ted chi l dren under twel ve a nd forty uni nteres ted s heep under five, s he wa s tea chi ng a n i mporta nt i tem on the curri cul um: the Rul es of Na mes . Mr. Underhi l l , s mi l i ng s hyl y, pa us ed to l i s ten a nd wa tch. Pa l a ni , a pl ump, pre y gi rl of twenty, ma de a cha rmi ng pi cture there i n the wi ntry s unl i ght, s heep a nd chi l dren a round her, a l ea fl es s oa k a bove her, a nd behi nd her the dunes a nd s ea a nd cl ea r, pa l e s ky. She s poke ea rnes tl y, her fa ce flus hed pi nk by wi nd a nd words . “Now you know the Rul es of Na mes a l rea dy, chi l dren. There a re two, a nd they’re the s a me on every i s l a nd i n the worl d. Wha t’s one of them?” “It a i n’t pol i te to a s k a nybody wha t hi s na me i s ,” s houted a fa t, qui ck boy, i nterrupted by a l i l e gi rl s hri eki ng, “You ca n’t never tel l your own na me to nobody my ma s a ys !” “Yes , Suba . Yes , Popi dea r, don’t s creech. Tha t’s ri ght. You never a s k a nybody hi s na me. You never tel l your own. Now thi nk a bout tha t a mi nute a nd then tel l me why we ca l l our wi za rd Mr. Underhi l l .” She s mi l ed a cros s the curl y hea ds a nd the wool l y ba cks a t Mr. Underhi l l , who bea med, a nd nervous l y cl utched hi s s a ck of eggs . “ ’Ca us e he l i ves under a hi l l !” s a i d ha l f the chi l dren. “But i s i t hi s truena me?” “No!” s a i d the fa t boy, echoed by l i ttl e Popi s hri eki ng, “No!” “How do you know i t’s not?” “ ’Ca us e he ca me here a l l a l one a nd s o there wa s n’t a nybody knew hi s truena me s o they coul dn’t tel l , a nd he coul dn’t—” “Very good, Suba . Popi , don’t s hout. Tha t’s ri ght. Even a wi za rd ca n’t tel l hi s truena me. When you chi l dren a re through s chool a nd go through the Pa s s a ge, you’l l l ea ve your chi l dna mes behi nd a nd keep onl y your truena mes , whi ch you mus t never a s k for a nd never gi ve a wa y. Why i s tha t the rul e?” The chi l dren were s i l ent. The s heep bl ea ted gentl y. Mr. Underhi l l a ns wered the ques on: “Beca us e the na me i s the thi ng,” he s a i d i n hi s s hy, s o , hus ky voi ce, “a nd the truena me i s the true thi ng. To s pea k the na me i s to control the thi ng. Am I ri ght, School mi s tres s ?” 30

She s mi l ed a nd curts eyed, evi dentl y a l i l e emba rra s s ed by hi s pa r ci pa on. And he tro ed off towa rds hi s hi l l , cl utchi ng hi s eggs to hi s bos om. Somehow the mi nute s pent wa tchi ng Pa l a ni a nd the chi l dren ha d ma de hi m very hungry. He l ocked hi s i nner door behi nd hi m wi th a ha s ty i nca nta on, but there mus t ha ve been a l ea k or two i n the s pel l , for s oon the ba re a nteroom of the ca ve wa s ri ch wi th the s mel l of fryi ng eggs a nd s i zzl i ng l i ver. The wi nd tha t da y wa s l i ght a nd fres h out of the wes t, a nd on i t a t noon a l i l e boa t ca me s ki mmi ng the bri ght wa ves i nto Sa ns Ha rbor. Even a s i t rounded the poi nt a s ha rp-eyed boy s po ed i t, a nd knowi ng, l i ke every chi l d on the i s l a nd, every s a i l a nd s pa r of the forty boa ts of the fis hi ng fleet, he ra n down the s treet ca l l i ng out, “A forei gn boa t, a forei gn boa t!” Very s el dom wa s the l onel y i s l e vi s i ted by a boa t from s ome equa l l y l onel y i s l e of the Ea s t Rea ch, or a n a dventurous tra der from the Archi pel a go. By the me the boa t wa s a t the pi er ha l f the vi l l a ge wa s there to greet i t, a nd fis hermen were fol l owi ng i t homewa rds , a nd cowherds a nd cl a m-di ggers a nd herb-hunters were puffing up a nd down a l l the rocky hi l l s , hea di ng towa rds the ha rbor. But Mr. Underhi l l ’s door s ta yed s hut. There wa s onl y one ma n a boa rd the boa t. Ol d Sea -ca pta i n Fogeno, when they tol d hi m tha t, drew down a bri s tl e of whi te brows over hi s uns eei ng eyes . “There’s onl y one ki nd of ma n,” he s a i d, “tha t s a i l s the Outer Rea ch a l one. A wi za rd, or a wa rl ock, or a Ma ge.. So the vi l l a gers were brea thl es s hopi ng to s ee for once i n thei r l i ves a Ma ge, one of the mi ghty Whi te Ma gi ci a ns of the ri ch, towered, crowded i nner i s l a nds of the Archi pel a go. They were di s a ppoi nted, for the voya ger wa s qui te young, a ha nds ome bl a ck-bea rded fel l ow who ha i l ed them cheerful l y from hi s boa t, a nd l ea ped a s hore l i ke a ny s a i l or gl a d to ha ve ma de port. He i ntroduced hi ms el f a t once a s a s ea -peddl a r. But when they tol d Sea ca pta i n Fogeno tha t he ca rri ed a n oa ken wa l ki ng-s ck a round wi th hi m, the ol d ma n nodded. “ Two wi za rds i n one town,” he s a i d. “Ba d!” And hi s mouth s na pped s hut l i ke a n ol d ca rp’s . As the s tra nger coul d not gi ve them hi s na me, they ga ve hi m one ri ght a wa y: Bl a ckbea rd. And they ga ve hi m pl enty of a en on. He ha d a s ma l l mi xed ca rgo of cl oth a nd s a nda l s a nd pi s wi fea thers for tri mmi ng cl oa ks a nd chea p i ncens e a nd l evi ty s tones a nd fine herbs a nd grea t gl a s s bea ds from Venwa y—the us ua l peddl a r’s l ot. Everyone on Sa ns Is l a nd ca me to l ook, to cha t wi th the voya ger, a nd perha ps to buy s omethi ng—“Jus t to remember hi m by!” ca ckl ed Goody Gul d, who l i ke a l l the women a nd gi rl s of the vi l l a ge wa s s mi en wi th Bl a ckbea rd’s bol d good l ooks . Al l the boys hung round hi m too, to hea r hi m tel l of hi s voya ges to fa r, s tra nge i s l a nds of the Rea ch or des cri be the grea t ri ch i s l a nds of the Archi pel a go, the Inner La nes , the roa ds tea ds whi te wi th s hi ps , a nd the gol den roofs of Ha vnor. The men wi l l i ngl y l i s tened to hi s ta l es ; but s ome of them wondered why a tra der s houl d s a i l a l one, a nd kept thei r eyes thoughtful l y upon hi s oa ken s ta ff. But a l l thi s ti me Mr. Underhi l l s ta yed under hi s hi l l . “ Thi s i s the firs t i s l a nd I’ve ever s een tha t ha d no wi za rd,” s a i d Bl a ckbea rd one eveni ng to Goody Gul d, who ha d i nvi ted hi m a nd her nephew a nd Pa l a ni i n for a cup of rus hwa s h tea . “Wha t do you do when you get a tootha che, or the cow goes dry?” “Why, we’ve got Mr. Underhi l l !” s a i d the ol d woma n. “For wha t tha t’s worth,” mu ered her nephew Bi rt, a nd then bl us hed purpl e a nd s pi l l ed hi s tea . Bi rt wa s a fis herma n, a l a rge, bra ve, wordl es s young ma n. He l oved the s chool mi s tres s , but the nea res t he ha d come to tel l i ng her of hi s l ove wa s to gi ve ba s kets of fres h ma ckerel to her fa ther’s cook. “Oh, you do ha ve a wi za rd?” Bl a ckbea rd a s ked. “Is he i nvi s i bl e?” “No, he’s jus t very s hy,” s a i d Pa l a ni . “You’ve onl y been here a week, you know, a nd we s ee s o few s tra ngers here....” She a l s o bl us hed a l i ttl e, but di d not s pi l l her tea . Bl a ckbea rd s mi l ed a t her. “He’s a good Sa tti ns ma n, then, eh?” “No,” s a i d Goody Gul d, “no more tha n you a re. Another cup, nevvy? keep i t i n the cup thi s me. No, my dea r, he ca me i n a l i l e bi t of a boa t, four yea rs a go wa s i t? jus t a da y a er the end of the s ha d run, I reca l l , for they wa s ta ki ng up the nets over i n Ea s t Creek, a nd Pondi Cowherd broke hi s l eg tha t very morni ng—five yea rs a go i t mus t be. No, four. No, five i t i s , ’twa s the yea r the ga rl i c di dn’t s prout. So he s a i l s i n on a bi t of a s l oop l oa ded ful l up wi th grea t ches ts a nd boxes a nd s a ys to Sea ca pta i n Fogeno, who wa s n’t bl i nd then, though ol d enough goodnes s knows to be bl i nd twi ce over, ‘I hea r tel l ,’ he s a ys , ‘you’ve got no wi za rd nor wa rl ock a t a l l , mi ght you be wa n ng one?’ ‘Indeed, i f the ma gi c’s whi te!’ s a ys the Ca pta i n, a nd before you coul d s a y cu l efis h Mr. Underhi l l ha d s e l ed down i n the ca ve under the hi l l a nd wa s cha rmi ng the ma nge off Goody Bel tow’s ca t. Though the fur grew i n grey, a nd ’twa s a n ora nge ca t. Queer-l ooki ng thi ng i t wa s a er tha t. It di ed l a s t wi nter i n the col d s pel l . Goody Bel tow took on s o a t tha t ca t’s dea th, poor thi ng, wors e tha n when her ma n wa s drowned on the Long Ba nks , the yea r of the l ong herri ng-runs , when nevvy Bi rt here wa s but a ba be i n pe coa ts .” Here Bi rt s pi l l ed hi s tea a ga i n, a nd Bl a ckbea rd gri nned, but Goody Gul d proceeded undi s ma yed, a nd ta l ked on ti l l ni ghtfa l l . Next da y Bl a ckbea rd wa s down a t the pi er, s eei ng a er the s prung boa rd i n hi s boa t whi ch he s eemed to ta ke a l ong me fixi ng, a nd a s us ua l dra wi ng the ta ci turn Sa ns men i nto ta l k. “Now whi ch of thes e i s your wi za rd’s cra ?” he a s ked. “Or ha s he got one of thos e the Ma ges fol d up i nto a wa l nut s hel l when they’re not us i ng i t?” “Na y,” s a i d a s tol i d fi s herma n. “She’s oop i n hi s ca ve, under hi l l .” “He ca rri ed the boa t he ca me i n up to hi s ca ve?” 31

“Aye. Cl ea r oop. I hel ped. Hea vi er a s l ea d s he wa s . Ful l oop wi th grea t boxes , a nd they ful l oop wi th books o’ s pel l s , he s a ys . Hea vi er a s l ea d s he wa s .” And the s tol i d fis herma n turned hi s ba ck, s i ghi ng s tol i dl y. Goody Gul d’s nephew, mendi ng a net nea rby, l ooked up from hi s work a nd a s ked wi th equa l s tol i di ty. “Woul d ye l i ke to meet Mr. Underhi l l , ma ybe?” Bl a ckbea rd returned Bi rt’s l ook. Cl ever bl a ck eyes met ca ndi d bl ue ones for a l ong moment; then Bl a ckbea rd s mi l ed a nd s a i d, “Yes . Wi l l you ta ke me up to the hi l l , Bi rt?” “Aye, when I’m done wi th thi s ,” s a i d the fis herma n. And when the net wa s mended, he a nd the Archi pel a ga n s et off up the vi l l a ge s treet towa rds the hi gh green hi l l a bove i t. But a s they cros s ed the common Bl a ckbea rd s a i d, “Hol d on a whi l e, fri end Bi rt. I ha ve a ta l e to tel l you, before we meet your wi za rd.” “Tel l a wa y,” s a ys Bi rt, s i tti ng down i n the s ha de of a l i ve-oa k. “It’s a s tory tha t s ta rted a hundred yea rs a go, a nd i s n’t fini s hed yet—though i t s oon wi l l be, very s oon.... In the very hea rt of the Archi pel a go, where the i s l a nds crowd thi ck a s fli es on honey, there’s a l i l e i s l e ca l l ed Pendor. The s ea l ords of Pendor were mi ghty men, i n the ol d da ys of wa r before the Lea gue. Loot a nd ra ns om a nd tri bute ca me pouri ng i nto Pendor, a nd they ga thered a grea t trea s ure there, l ong a go. Then from s omewhere a wa y out i n the Wes t Rea ch, where dra gons breed on the l a va i s l es , ca me one da y a very mi ghty dra gon. Not one of thos e overgrown l i za rds mos t of you Outer Rea ch fol k ca l l dra gons , but a bi g, bl a ck, wi nged, wi s e, cunni ng mons ter, ful l of s trength a nd s ubtl ety, a nd l i ke a l l dra gons l ovi ng gol d a nd preci ous s tones a bove a l l thi ngs . He ki l l ed the Sea l ord a nd hi s s ol di ers , a nd the peopl e of Pendor fled i n thei r s hi ps by ni ght. They a l l fled a wa y a nd l eft the dra gon coi l ed up i n Pendor Towers . And there he s ta yed for a hundred yea rs , dra ggi ng hi s s ca l y bel l y over the emera l ds a nd s a pphi res a nd coi ns of gol d, comi ng forth onl y once i n a yea r or two when he mus t ea t. He’d ra i d nea rby i s l a nds for hi s food. You know wha t dra gons ea t?” Bi rt nodded a nd s a i d i n a whi s per, “Ma i dens .” “Ri ght,” s a i d Bl a ckbea rd. “Wel l , tha t coul dn’t be endured forever, nor the thought of hi s s i ng on a l l tha t trea s ure. So a er the Lea gue grew s trong, a nd the Archi pel a go wa s n’t s o bus y wi th wa rs a nd pi ra cy, i t wa s deci ded to a a ck Pendor, dri ve out the dra gon, a nd get the gol d a nd jewel s for the trea s ury of the Lea gue. They’re forever wa n ng money, the Lea gue i s . So a huge fleet ga thered from fi y i s l a nds , a nd s even Ma ges s tood i n the prows of the s even s tronges t s hi ps , a nd they s a i l ed towa rds Pendor.... They got there. They l a nded. Nothi ng s rred. The hous es a l l s tood empty, the di s hes on the ta bl es ful l of a hundred yea rs ’ dus t. The bones of the ol d Sea l ord a nd hi s men l a y a bout i n the ca s tl e courts a nd on the s ta i rs . And the Tower rooms reeked of dra gon. But there wa s no dra gon. And no trea s ure, not a di a mond the s i ze of a poppys eed, not a s i ngl e s i l ver bea d... Knowi ng tha t he coul dn’t s ta nd up to s even Ma ges , the dra gon ha d s ki pped out. They tra cked hi m, a nd found he’d flown to a des erted i s l a nd up north ca l l ed Udra th; they fol l owed hi s tra i l there, a nd wha t di d they find? Bones a ga i n. Hi s bones —the dra gon’s . But no trea s ure. A wi za rd, s ome unknown wi za rd from s omewhere, mus t ha ve met hi m s i ngl e-ha nded, a nd defea ted hi m—a nd then ma de off wi th the trea s ure, ri ght under the Lea gue’s nos e!” The fi s herma n l i s tened, a ttenti ve a nd expres s i onl es s . “Now tha t mus t ha ve been a powerful wi za rd a nd a cl ever one, fi rs t to ki l l a dra gon, a nd s econd to get off wi thout l ea vi ng a tra ce. The l ords a nd Ma ges of the Archi pel a go coul dn’t tra ck hi m a t a l l , nei ther where he’d come from nor where he’d ma de off to. They were a bout to gi ve up. Tha t wa s l a s t s pri ng; I’d been off on a three-yea r voya ge up i n the North Rea ch, a nd got ba ck a bout tha t me. And they a s ked me to hel p them find the unknown wi za rd. Tha t wa s cl ever of them. Beca us e I’m not onl y a wi za rd mys el f, a s I thi nk s ome of the oa fs here ha ve gues s ed, but I a m a l s o a des cenda nt of the Lords of Pendor. Tha t trea s ure i s mi ne. It’s mi ne, a nd knows tha t i t’s mi ne. Thos e fool s of the Lea gue coul dn’t find i t, beca us e i t’s not thei rs . It bel ongs to the Hous e of Pendor, a nd the grea t emera l d, the s ta r of the hoa rd, Ina l ki l the Greens tone, knows i ts ma s ter. Behol d!” Bl a ckbea rd ra i s ed hi s oa ken s ta ff a nd cri ed a l oud, “Ina l ki l !” The ti p of the s ta ff bega n to gl ow green, a fiery green ra di a nce, a da zzl i ng ha ze the col or of Apri l gra s s , a nd a t the s a me moment the s ta ff pped i n the wi za rd’s ha nd, l ea ni ng, s l a nti ng ti l l i t poi nted s tra i ght a t the s i de of the hi l l a bove them. “It wa s n’t s o bri ght a gl ow, fa r a wa y i n Ha vnor,” Bl a ckbea rd murmured, “but the s ta ff poi nted true. Ina l ki l a ns wered when I ca l l ed. The jewel knows i ts ma s ter. And I know the thi ef, a nd I s ha l l conquer hi m. He’s a mi ghty wi za rd, who coul d overcome a dra gon. But I a m mi ghti er. Do you wa nt to know why, oa f? Beca us e I know hi s na me!” As Bl a ckbea rd’s tone got more a rroga nt, Bi rt ha d l ooked dul l er a nd dul l er, bl a nker a nd bl a nker; but a t thi s he ga ve a twi tch, s hut hi s mouth, a nd s ta red a t the Archi pel a ga n. “How di d you... l ea rn i t?” he a s ked very s l owl y. Bl a ckbea rd gri nned, a nd di d not a ns wer. “Bl a ck ma gi c?” “How el s e?” Bi rt l ooked pa l e, a nd s a i d nothi ng. “I a m the Sea l ord of Pendor, oa f, a nd I wi l l ha ve the gol d my fa thers won, a nd the jewel s my mothers wore, a nd the Greens tone! For they a re mi ne. —Now, you ca n tel l your vi l l a ge boobi es the whol e s tory a er I ha ve defea ted thi s wi za rd a nd gone. Wa i t here. Or you ca n come a nd wa tch, i f you’re not a fra i d. You’l l never get the cha nce a ga i n to s ee a grea t wi za rd i n a l l hi s power.” Bl a ckbea rd turned, a nd wi thout a ba ckwa rd gl a nce s trode off up the hi l l towa rds the entra nce to the ca ve. Very s l owl y, Bi rt fol l owed. A good di s ta nce from the ca ve he s topped, s a t down under a ha wthorn tree, a nd wa tched. The Archi pel a ga n ha d s topped; a s ff, da rk figure a l one on the green s wel l of the hi l l before the ga pi ng ca ve-mouth, he s tood perfectl y s ti l l . Al l a t once he s wung hi s s ta ff up over hi s hea d, a nd the emera l d ra di a nce s hone a bout hi m a s he s houted, “Thi ef, thi ef of the Hoa rd of Pendor, come forth!” There wa s a cra s h, a s of dropped crockery, from i ns i de the ca ve, a nd a l ot of dus t ca me s pewi ng out. Sca red, Bi rt ducked. When he l ooked a ga i n he s a w Bl a ckbea rd s l l s ta ndi ng mo onl es s , a nd a t the mouth of the ca ve, dus ty a nd di s hevel l ed, s tood Mr. Underhi l l . He l ooked s ma l l a nd pi ful , wi th hi s toes turned i n a s us ua l , a nd hi s l i l e bowl egs i n bl a ck ghts , a nd no s ta ff —he 32

never ha d ha d one, Bi rt s uddenl y thought. Mr. Underhi l l s poke. “Who a re you?” he s a i d i n hi s hus ky l i ttl e voi ce. “I a m the Sea l ord of Pendor, thi ef, come to cl a i m my trea s ure!” At tha t, Mr. Underhi l l s l owl y turned pi nk, a s he a l wa ys di d when peopl e were rude to hi m. But he then turned s omethi ng el s e. He turned yel l ow. Hi s ha i r bri s tl ed out, he ga ve a coughi ng roa r—a nd wa s a yel l ow l i on l ea pi ng down the hi l l a t Bl a ckbea rd, whi te fa ngs gl ea mi ng. But Bl a ckbea rd no l onger s tood there. A gi ga nti c ti ger, col or of ni ght a nd l i ghtni ng, bounded to meet the l i on.... The l i on wa s gone. Bel ow the ca ve a l l of a s udden s tood a hi gh grove of trees , bl a ck i n the wi nter s uns hi ne. The ger, checki ng hi ms el f i n mi d-l ea p jus t before he entered the s ha dow of the trees , ca ught fire i n the a i r, beca me a tongue of fla me l a s hi ng out a t the dry bl a ck bra nches .... But where the trees ha d s tood a s udden ca ta ra ct l ea ped from the hi l l s i de, a n a rch of s i l very cra s hi ng wa ter, thunderi ng down upon the fi re. But the fi re wa s gone.... For jus t a moment before the fis herma n’s s ta ri ng eyes two hi l l s ros e—the green one he knew, a nd a new one, a ba re, brown hi l l ock rea dy to dri nk up the rus hi ng wa terfa l l . Tha t pa s s ed s o qui ckl y i t ma de Bi rt bl i nk, a nd a er bl i nki ng he bl i nked a ga i n, a nd moa ned, for wha t he s a w now wa s a grea t dea l wors e. Where the ca ta ra ct ha d been there hovered a dra gon. Bl a ck wi ngs da rkened a l l the hi l l , s teel cl a ws rea ched gropi ng, a nd from the da rk, s ca l y, ga pi ng l i ps fi re a nd s tea m s hot out. Benea th the mons trous crea ture s tood Bl a ckbea rd, l a ughi ng. “ Ta ke a ny s ha pe you pl ea s e, l i l e Mr. Underhi l l !” he ta unted. “I ca n ma tch you. But the ga me grows res ome. I wa nt to l ook upon my trea s ure, upon Ina l ki l . Now, bi g dra gon, l i l e wi za rd, ta ke your true s ha pe. I comma nd you by the power of your true na me— Yeva ud!” Bi rt coul d not move a t a l l , not even to bl i nk. He cowered, s ta ri ng whether he woul d or not. He s a w the bl a ck dra gon ha ng there i n the a i r a bove Bl a ckbea rd. He s a w the fire l i ck l i ke ma ny tongues from the s ca l y mouth, the s tea m jet from the red nos tri l s . He s a w Bl a ckbea rd’s fa ce grow whi te, whi te a s cha l k, a nd the bea rd-fri nged l i ps trembl i ng. “Your na me i s Yeva ud!” “Yes ,” s a i d a grea t, hus ky, hi s s i ng voi ce. “My true-na me i s Yeva ud, a nd my true s ha pe i s thi s s ha pe.” “But the dra gon wa s ki l l ed—they found dra gon-bones on Udra th Is l a nd—” “Tha t wa s a nother dra gon,” s a i d the dra gon, a nd then s tooped l i ke a ha wk, ta l ons outs tretched. And Bi rt s hut hi s eyes . When he opened them the s ky wa s cl ea r, the hi l l s i de empty, except for a reddi s h-bl a cki s h tra mpl ed s pot, a nd a few ta l on-ma rks i n the gra s s . Bi rt the fis herma n got to hi s feet a nd ra n. He ra n a cros s the common, s ca eri ng s heep to ri ght a nd l e , a nd s tra i ght down the vi l l a ge s treet to Pa l a ni ’s fa ther’s hous e. Pa l a ni wa s out i n the ga rden weedi ng the na s tur ums . “Come wi th me!” Bi rt ga s ped. She s ta red. He gra bbed her wri s t a nd dra gged her wi th hi m. She s creeched a l i l e, but di d not res i s t. He ra n wi th her s tra i ght to the pi er, pus hed her i nto hi s fis hi ng-s l oop the Queeni e, un ed the pa i nter, took up the oa rs a nd s et off rowi ng l i ke a demon. The l a s t tha t Sa ns Is l a nd s a w of hi m a nd Pa l a ni wa s the Queeni e's s a i l va ni s hi ng i n the di rec on of the nea res t i s l a nd wes twa rd. The vi l l a gers thought they woul d never s top ta l ki ng a bout i t, how Goody Gul d’s nephew Bi rt ha d l os t hi s mi nd a nd s a i l ed off wi th the s chool mi s tres s on the very s a me da y tha t the peddl a r Bl a ckbea rd di s a ppea red wi thout a tra ce, l ea vi ng a l l hi s fea thers a nd bea ds behi nd. But they di d s top ta l ki ng a bout i t, three da ys l a ter. They ha d other thi ngs to ta l k a bout, when Mr. Underhi l l fi na l l y ca me out of hi s ca ve. Mr. Underhi l l ha d deci ded tha t s i nce hi s truena me wa s no l onger a s ecret, he mi ght a s wel l drop hi s di s gui s e. Wa l ki ng wa s a l ot ha rder tha n fl yi ng, a nd bes i des , i t wa s a l ong, l ong ti me s i nce he ha d ha d a rea l mea l . WINTER'S KING

When I wrote thi s s tory, a yea r before I bega n the novel The Le Ha nd of Da rknes s , I di d not know tha t the i nha bi ta nts of the pl a net Wi nter or Gethen were a ndrogynes . By the me the s tory ca me out i n pri nt, I di d, but too l a te to emend s uch us a ges a s “s on,” “mother,” a nd s o on. Ma ny femi ni s ts ha ve been gri eved or a ggri eved by The Le Ha nd of Da rknes s beca us e the a ndrogynes i n i t a re ca l l ed “he” throughout. In the thi rd pers on s i ngul a r, the Engl i s h generi c pronoun i s the s a me a s the ma s cul i ne pronoun. A fa ct worth reflec ng upon. And i ts a tra p, wi th no wa y out, beca us e the excl us i on of the femi ni ne (s he) a nd the neuter (i t) from the generi c/ma s cul i ne (he) ma kes the us e of ei ther of them more s peci fic, more unjus t, a s i t were, tha n the us e of “he.” And I find ma de-up pronouns , “te” a nd “hes he” a nd s o on, drea ry a nd a nnoyi ng. In revi s i ng the s tory for thi s edi on, I s a w a cha nce to redres s tha t i njus ce s l i ghtl y. In thi s vers i on, I us e the femi ni ne pronoun for a l l Getheni a ns —whi l e pres ervi ng certa i n ma s cul i ne tl es s uch a s Ki ng a nd Lord, jus t to remi nd one of the a mbi gui ty. Thi s ma y dri ve s ome nonfemi ni s ts ma d, but tha t’s onl y fa i r. The a ndrogyny of the cha ra cters ha s l i l e to do wi th the events of thi s s tory, but the pronoun cha nge does ma ke i t cl ea r tha t the centra l , pa ra doxi ca l rel a ons hi p of pa rent a nd chi l d i s not, a s i t ma y ha ve s eemed i n the other vers i on, a ki nd of revers e 33

Oedi pus twi s t, but s omethi ng l es s fa mi l i a r a nd more a mbi guous . Evi dentl y my uncons ci ous mi nd knew a bout the Getheni a ns l ong before i t s a w fi t to i nform me. It's a l wa ys doi ng thi ngs l i ke tha t. When whi rl pool s a ppea r i n the onwa rd run of me a nd hi s tory s eems to s wi rl a round a s na g, a s i n the curi ous ma er of the Succes s i on of Ka rhi de, then pi ctures come i n ha ndy: s na ps hots , whi ch ma y be ta ken up a nd ma tched to compa re the pa rent to the chi l d, the young ki ng to the ol d, a nd whi ch ma y a l s o be rea rra nged a nd s huffled l l the yea rs run s tra i ght. For des pi te the tri cks pl a yed by i ns ta nta neous i nters tel l a r communi ca on a nd jus t-s ub-l i ghts peed i nters tel l a r tra vel , me (a s the Pl eni potenti a ry Axt rema rked) does not revers e i ts el f; nor i s dea th mocked. Thus , a l though the bes t-known pi cture i s tha t da rk i ma ge of a young ki ng s ta ndi ng a bove a n ol d ki ng who l i es dea d i n a corri dor l i t onl y by mi rror-reflec ons of a burni ng ci ty, s et i t a s i de a whi l e. Look firs t a t the young ki ng, a na on’s pri de, a s bri ght a nd fortuna te a s oul a s ever l i ved to the a ge of twenty-two; but when thi s pi cture wa s ta ken the young ki ng ha d her ba ck a ga i ns t a wa l l . She wa s fil thy, s he wa s trembl i ng, a nd her fa ce wa s bl a nk a nd ma d, for s he ha d l os t tha t mi ni ma l confidence i n the worl d whi ch i s ca l l ed s a ni ty. Ins i de her hea d s he repea ted, a s s he ha d been repea ng for hours or yea rs , over a nd over, “I wi l l a bdi ca te. I wi l l a bdi ca te. I wi l l a bdi ca te.” Ins i de her eyes s he s a w the red-wa l l ed rooms of the Pa l a ce, the towers a nd s treets of Erhenra ng i n fa l l i ng s now, the l ovel y pl a i ns of the Wes t Fa l l , the whi te s ummi ts of the Ka rga v, a nd s he renounced them a l l , her ki ngdom. “I wi l l a bdi ca te,” s he s a i d not a l oud a nd then, a l oud, s crea med a s once a ga i n the pers on dres s ed i n red a nd whi te a pproa ched her s a yi ng, “Ma jes ty! A pl ot a ga i ns t your l i fe ha s been di s covered i n the Ar s a n School ,” a nd the hummi ng noi s e bega n, s o l y. She hi d her hea d i n her a rms a nd whi s pered, “Stop i t, pl ea s e s top i t,” but the hummi ng whi ne grew hi gher a nd l ouder a nd nea rer, rel entl es s , un l i t wa s s o hi gh a nd l oud tha t i t entered her fles h, tore the nerves from thei r cha nnel s a nd ma de her bones da nce a nd ja ngl e, hoppi ng to i ts tune. She hopped a nd twi tched, ba re bones s trung on thi n whi te threa ds , a nd wept dry tea rs , a nd s houted, “Ha ve them— Ha ve them— They mus t— Executed— Stopped— Stop!” It s topped. She fel l i n a cl a eri ng, cha eri ng hea p to the floor. Wha t floor? Not red l es , nor pa rquetry, not uri ne-s ta i ned cement, but the wood floor of the room i n the tower, the l i l e tower bedroom where s he wa s s a fe, s a fe from her ogre pa rent, the col d, ma d, unca ri ng ki ng, s a fe to pl a y ca t’s cra dl e wi th Pi ry a nd to s i t by the fires i de on Borhub’s wa rm l a p, a s wa rm a nd deep a s s l eep. But there wa s no hi di ng, no s a fety, no s l eep. The pers on dres s ed i n bl a ck ha d come even here a nd ha d hol d of her hea d, l i ed i t up, l i fted on thi n whi te s tri ngs the eyel i ds s he tri ed to cl os e. “Who a m I?” The bl a nk, bl a ck ma s k s ta red down. The young ki ng s truggl ed, s obbi ng, beca us e now the s uffoca on woul d begi n: s he woul d not be a bl e to brea the un l s he s a i d the na me, the ri ght na me—“Gerer!”—She coul d brea the. She wa s a l l owed to brea the. She ha d recogni zed the bl a ck one i n ti me. “Who a m I?” s a i d a di fferent voi ce, gentl y, a nd the young ki ng groped for tha t s trong pres ence tha t a l wa ys brought her s l eep, truce, s ol a ce. “Reba de,” s he whi s pered, “tel l me wha t to do....” “Sl eep.” She obeyed. A deep s l eep, a nd drea ml es s , for i t wa s rea l . Drea ms ca me a t wa ki ng, now. Unrea l , the horri bl e dry red l i ght of s uns et burned her eyes open a nd s he s tood, once more, on the Pa l a ce ba l cony l ooki ng down a t fi y thous a nd bl a ck pi ts openi ng a nd s hu ng. From the pi ts ca me a pa roxys mi c gus h of s ound, a s hri l l , rhythmi c eructa on: her na me. Her na me wa s roa red i n her ea rs a s a ta unt, a jeer. She bea t her ha nds on the na rrow bra s s ra i l i ng a nd s houted a t them, “I wi l l s i l ence you!” She coul d not hea r her voi ce, onl y thei r voi ce, the pes l ent mouths of the mob tha t ha ted her, s crea mi ng her na me. “Come a wa y, my ki ng,” s a i d the one gentl e voi ce, a nd Reba de drew her a wa y from the ba l cony i nto the va s t, red-wa l l ed qui et of the Ha l l of Audi ence. The s crea mi ng cea s ed wi th a cl i ck. Reba de’s expres s i on wa s a s a l wa ys compos ed, compa s s i ona te. “Wha t wi l l you do now?” s he s a i d i n her gentl e voi ce. “I wi l l — I wi l l a bdi ca te—” “No,” Reba de s a i d ca l ml y. “Tha t i s not ri ght. Wha t wi l l you do now?” The young ki ng s tood s i l ent, s ha ki ng. Reba de hel ped her s i t down on the i ron cot, for the wa l l s ha d da rkened a s they o en di d a nd dra wn i n a l l a bout her to a l i ttl e cel l . “You wi l l ca l l ...” “Ca l l up the Erhenra ng Gua rd. Ha ve them s hoot i nto the crowd. Shoot to ki l l . They mus t be ta ught a l es s on.” The young ki ng s poke ra pi dl y a nd di s nctl y i n a l oud, hi gh voi ce. Reba de s a i d, “Very good, my l ord, a wi s e deci s i on! Ri ght. We s ha l l come out a l l ri ght. You a re doi ng ri ght. Trus t me.” “I do. I trus t you. Get me out of here,” the young ki ng whi s pered, s ei zi ng Reba de’s a rm: but her fri end frowned. Tha t wa s not ri ght. She ha d dri ven Reba de a nd hope a wa y a ga i n. Reba de wa s l ea vi ng now, ca l m a nd regre ul , though the young ki ng begged her to s top, to come ba ck, for the noi s e wa s s o l y begi nni ng a ga i n, the whi ni ng hum tha t tore the mi nd to pi eces , a nd a l rea dy the pers on i n red a nd whi te wa s a pproa chi ng a cros s a red, i ntermi na bl e floor. “Ma jes ty! A pl ot a ga i ns t your l i fe ha s been di s covered i n the Arti s a n School —” Down Ol d Ha rbor Street to the wa ter’s edge the s treet l a mps burned ca vernous l y bri ght. Gua rd Pepenerer on her rounds gl a nced down tha t s l a n ng va ul t of l i ght expec ng nothi ng, a nd s a w s omethi ng s ta ggeri ng up i t towa rds her. Pepenerer di d not bel i eve i n porngropes , but s he s a w a porngrope, s ea -bes l i med, s ta ggeri ng on thi n webbed feet, ga s pi ng dry a i r, whi mperi ng.... Ol d s a i l ors ’ ta l es s l i d out of Pepenerer’s mi nd a nd s he s a w a drunk or a ma ni a c or a vi c m s ta ggeri ng between the da nk grey wa rehous e wa l l s . “Now then! Hol d on there!” s he bel l owed, on the run. The drunk, ha l f na ked a nd wi l d-eyed, l et out a yel l of terror a nd tri ed to dodge a wa y, s l i pped on the fros t-s l i ck s tones of the s treet a nd pi tched down s pra wl i ng. Pepenerer got out her gun a nd del i vered a ha l f-s econd of s tun, jus t to keep the drunk qui et; then s qua ed down by her, wound up her ra di o a nd ca l l ed the Wes t Wa rd for a ca r. 34

Both the a rms , s pra wl ed out l i mp a nd meek on the col d cobbl es , were bl otched wi th i njec on ma rks . Not drunk; drugged. Pepenerer s ni ffed, but got no res i nous s cent of orgrevy. She ha d been drugged, then; thi eves , or a ri tua l cl a n-revenge. Thi eves woul d not ha ve l e the gol d ri ng on the forefinger, a ma s s i ve thi ng, ca rved, a l mos t a s wi de a s the fingerjoi nt. Pepenerer crouched forwa rd to l ook a t i t. Then s he turned her hea d a nd l ooked a t the bea ten, bl a nk fa ce i n profil e a ga i ns t the pa vi ngs tones , ha rd l i t by the gl a re of the s treet l a mps . She took a new qua rter-crown pi ece out of her pouch a nd l ooked a t the l e profil e s ta mped on the bri ght n, then ba ck a t the ri ght profil e s ta mped i n l i ght a nd s ha dow a nd col d s tone. Then, hea ri ng the purr of the el ectri c ca r turni ng down from the Longwa y i nto Ol d Ha rbor Street, s he s tuck the coi n ba ck i n her pouch, mu eri ng to hers el f, “Da mn fool .” Ki ng Arga ven wa s off hunti ng i n the mounta i ns , a nyhow, a nd ha d been for a coupl e of weeks ; i t ha d been i n a l l the bul l eti ns . “You s ee,” s a i d Hoge the phys i ci a n, “we ca n a s s ume tha t s he wa s mi ndformed; but tha t gi ves us a l mos t nothi ng to go on. There a re too ma ny expert mi nd-formers i n Ka rhi de, a nd i n Orgoreyn for tha t ma er. Not cri mi na l s whom the pol i ce mi ght ha ve a l ea d on, but res pecta bl e menta l i s ts or phys i ci a ns . To whom the drugs a re l ega l l y a va i l a bl e. As for ge ng a nythi ng from her, i f they ha d a ny s ki l l a t a l l they wi l l ha ve bl ocked everythi ng they di d to ra ona l a cces s . Al l cl ues wi l l be buri ed, the tri gger-s ugges ons hi dden, a nd we s i mpl y ca nnot gues s wha t ques ons to a s k. There i s no wa y, s hort of bra i n-des truc on, of goi ng through everythi ng i n her mi nd; a nd even under hypnos i s a nd deep druggi ng there woul d be no wa y now to di s ngui s h i mpl a nted i dea s or emo ons from her own a utonomous ones . Perha ps the Al i ens coul d do s omethi ng, though I doubt thei r mi nds ci ence i s a l l they boa s t of; a t a ny ra te i t’s out of rea ch. We ha ve onl y one rea l hope.” “Whi ch i s ?” Lord Gerer a s ked, s tol i dl y. “ The ki ng i s qui ck a nd res ol ute. At the begi nni ng, before they broke her, s he ma y ha ve known wha t they were doi ng to her, a nd s o s et up s ome bl ock or res i s ta nce, l eft hers el f s ome es ca pe route....” Hoge’s l ow voi ce l os t confidence a s s he s poke, a nd tra i l ed off i n the s i l ence of the hi gh, red, dus ky room. She drew no res pons e from ol d Gerer who s tood, bl a ck-cl a d, before the fi re. The tempera ture of tha t room i n the Ki ng’s Pa l a ce of Erhenra ng wa s 12° C where Lord Gerer s tood, a nd 5° mi dwa y between the two bi g firepl a ces ; outs i de i t wa s s nowi ng l i ghtl y, a mi l d da y onl y a few degrees bel ow freezi ng. Spri ng ha d come to Wi nter. The fires a t ei ther end of the room roa red red a nd gol d, devouri ng thi gh-thi ck l ogs . Ma gni ficence, a ha rs h l uxury, a qui ck s pl endor; firepl a ces , fireworks , l i ghtni ng, meteors , vol ca noes ; s uch thi ngs s a s fied the peopl e of Ka rhi de on the worl d ca l l ed Wi nter. But, except i n Arc c col oni es a bove the 35th pa ra l l el , they ha d never i ns ta l l ed centra l hea ng i n a ny bui l di ng i n the ma ny centuri es of thei r Age of Technol ogy. Comfort wa s a l l owed to come to them ra re, wel come, uns ought: a gi ft, l i ke joy. The ki ng’s pers ona l s erva nt, s i ng by the bed, turned towa rds the phys i ci a n a nd the Lord Counci l l or, though s he di d not s pea k. Both a t once cros s ed the room. The broa d, ha rd bed, hi gh on gi l t pi l l a rs , hea vy wi th a finery of red cl oa ks a nd coverl ets , bore up the ki ng’s body a l mos t l evel wi th thei r eyes . To Gerer i t a ppea red a s hi p brea s ng, mo onl es s , a s wi va s t flood of da rknes s , ca rryi ng the young ki ng i nto s ha dows , terrors , yea rs . Then wi th a terror of her own the ol d counci l l or s a w tha t Arga ven’s eyes were open, s ta ri ng out a ha l f-curta i ned wi ndow a t the s ta rs . Gerer fea red l una cy; i di ocy; s he di d not know wha t s he fea red. Hoge ha d wa rned her: “ The ki ng wi l l not beha ve ‘norma l l y,’ Lord Gerer. She ha s s uffered thi rteen da ys of torment, i n mi da on, exha us on, a nd mi nd-ha ndl i ng. There ma y be bra i n da ma ge, there wi l l certa i nl y be s i de-a nd a er-effects of drugs .” Nei ther fea r nor wa rni ng pa rri ed the s hock. Arga ven’s bri ght, wea ry eyes turned to Gerer a nd pa us ed on her bl a nkl y a moment; then s a w her. And Gerer, though s he coul d not s ee the bl a ck ma s k reflected, s a w the ha te, the horror, s a w her young ki ng, i nfini tel y bel oved, ga s pi ng i n i mbeci l e terror a nd s truggl i ng wi th the s erva nt, wi th Hoge, wi th her own wea knes s i n the effort to get a wa y, to get a wa y from Gerer. Sta ndi ng i n the col d mi ds t of the room where the prowl i ke hea d of the beds tea d hi d her from the ki ng, Gerer hea rd them pa ci fy Arga ven a nd s e l ed her down a ga i n. Arga ven’s voi ce s ounded reedy, chi l di s hl y pl a i n ve. So the Ol d Ki ng, Emra n, ha d s poken i n her l a s t ma dnes s wi th a chi l d’s voi ce. Then s i l ence, a nd the burni ng of the two grea t fi res . Korgry, the ki ng’s bodys erva nt, ya wned a nd rubbed her eyes . Hoge mea s ured s omethi ng from a vi a l i nto a hypodermi c. Gerer s tood i n des pa i r. My chi l d, my ki ng, wha t ha ve they done to you? So grea t a trus t, s o fa i r a promi s e, l os t, l os t.... So the one who l ooked l i ke a l ump of ha l f-ca rved bl a ck rock, a hea vy, prudent, rude ol d cour er, gri eved a nd wa s pa s s i on-ra cked, her l ove a nd s ervi ce of the young ki ng bei ng the worl d’s one worth to her. Arga ven s poke a l oud: “My chi l d—” Gerer wi nced, feel i ng the words torn out of her own mi nd; but Hoge, untroubl ed by l ove, comprehended a nd s a i d s o l y to Arga ven, “Pri nce Emra n i s wel l , my l i ege. She i s wi th her a enda nts a t Wa rrever Ca s tl e. We a re i n cons ta nt communi ca on. Al l i s wel l there.” Gerer hea rd the ki ng’s ha rs h brea thi ng, a nd ca me s omewha t cl os er to the bed, though out of s i ght s l l behi nd the hi gh hea dboa rd. “Ha ve I been s i ck?” “You a re not wel l yet,” the phys i ci a n s a i d, bl a nd. “Where—” “Your own room, i n the Pa l a ce, i n Erhenra ng.” But Gerer, comi ng a s tep cl os er, though not i n vi ew of the ki ng, s a i d, “We do not know where you ha ve been.” Hoge’s s mooth fa ce crea s ed wi th a frown, though, phys i ci a n a s s he wa s a nd s o i n her wa y rul er of them a l l , s he da red not di rect 35

the frown a t the Lord Counci l l or. Gerer’s voi ce di d not s eem to troubl e the ki ng, who a s ked a nother ques on or two, s a ne a nd bri ef, a nd then l a y qui et. Pres entl y the s erva nt Korgry, who ha d s a t wi th her ever s i nce s he ha d been brought i nto the Pa l a ce (l a s t ni ght, i n s ecret, by s i de doors , l i ke a s ha meful s ui ci de of the l a s t rei gn, but a l l i n revers e), Korgry commi ed l es e-ma jes te: huddl ed forwa rd on her hi gh s tool , s he l et her hea d droop on the s i de of the bed, a nd s l ept. The gua rd a t the door yi el ded pl a ce to a new gua rd, i n whi s pers . Offici a l s ca me a nd recei ved a fres h bul l e n for publ i c rel ea s e on the s ta te of the ki ng’s hea l th, i n whi s pers . Stri cken by s ymptoms of fever whi l e va ca oni ng i n the Hi gh Ka rga v, the ki ng ha d been rus hed to Erhenra ng, a nd wa s now res pondi ng s a s fa ctori l y to trea tment, etc. Phys i ci a n Hoge rem i r Hogeremme a t the Pa l a ce ha s rel ea s ed the fol l owi ng s ta tement, etc., etc. “Ma y the Wheel turn for our ki ng,” peopl e i n vi l l a ge hous es s a i d s ol emnl y a s they l i t the fire on the a l ta rhea rth, to whi ch el ders s i ng nea r the fire rema rked, “It comes of her rovi ng a round the ci ty a t ni ght a nd cl i mbi ng mounta i ns , fool tri cks l i ke tha t,” but they kept the ra di o on to ca tch the next bul l e n. A very grea t number of peopl e ha d come a nd gone a nd l oi tered a nd cha ed thi s da y i n the s qua re before the Pa l a ce, wa tchi ng thos e who went i n a nd out, wa tchi ng the va ca nt ba l cony; there were s l l s evera l hundred down there, s ta ndi ng a round pa entl y i n the s now. Arga ven XVII wa s l oved i n her doma i n. A er the dul l bruta l i ty of Ki ng Emra n’s rei gn tha t ha d ended i n the s ha dow of ma dnes s a nd the country’s ba nkruptcy, s he ha d come: s udden, ga l l a nt, young, cha ngi ng everythi ng; s a ne a nd s hrewd, yet ma gna ni mous . She ha d the fire, the s pl endor tha t s ui ted her peopl e. She wa s the force a nd center of a new a ge: one born, for once, ki ng of the ri ght ki ngdom. “Gerer.” It wa s the ki ng’s voi ce, a nd Gerer ha s tened s ti ffl y through the hot a nd col d of the grea t room, the fi rel i ght a nd da rk. Arga ven wa s s i ng up. Her a rms s hook a nd the brea th ca ught i n her throa t; her eyes burned a cros s the da rk a i r a t Gerer. By her l e ha nd, whi ch bore the Si gn-Ri ng of the Ha rge dyna s ty, l a y the s l eepi ng fa ce of the s erva nt, derel i ct, s erene. “Gerer,” the ki ng s a i d wi th effort a nd cl a ri ty, “s ummon the Counci l . Tel l them, I wi l l a bdi ca te.” So crude, s o s i mpl e? Al l the drugs , the terrori zi ng, the hypnos i s , pa ra hypnos i s , neurone-s mul a on, s yna ps e-pa i ri ng, s pots hock tha t Hoge ha d des cri bed, for thi s bl unt res ul t? But rea s oni ng mus t wa i t. They mus t tempori ze. “My l i ege, when your s trength returns —” “Now. Ca l l the Counci l , Gerer!” Then s he broke, l i ke a bows tri ng brea ki ng, a nd s ta mmered i n a fury of fea r tha t found no s ens e or s trength to fl es h i ts el f i n; a nd s ti l l her fa i thful s erva nt s l ept bes i de her, dea f. In the next pi cture thi ngs a re goi ng be er, i t a ppea rs . Here i s Ki ng Arga ven XVII i n good hea l th a nd good cl othes , fini s hi ng a l a rge brea kfa s t. She ta l ks wi th the nea rer dozen of the forty or fi y peopl e s ha ri ng or s ervi ng the mea l (s i ngul a ri ty i s a ki ng’s preroga ve, but s el dom pri va cy), a nd i ncl udes the res t i n the l a rges s e of her courtes y. She l ooks , a s everyone ha s s a i d, qui te hers el f a ga i n. Perha ps s he i s not qui te hers el f a ga i n, however; s omethi ng i s mi s s i ng, a youthful s ereni ty, a confidence, repl a ced by a s i mi l a r but l es s rea s s uri ng qua l i ty, a ki nd of heedl es s nes s . Out of i t s he ri s es i n wi t a nd wa rmth, but a l wa ys s ubs i des to i t a ga i n, tha t da rknes s whi ch a bs orbs her a nd ma kes her heedl es s : fea r, pa i n, res ol uti on? Mr Mobi l e Axt, Amba s s a dor Pl eni poten a ry to Wi nter from the Ekumen of the Known Worl ds , who ha d s pent the l a s t s i x da ys on the roa d tryi ng to dri ve a n el ectri c ca r fa s ter tha n 50 kph from Mi s hnory i n Orgoreyn to Erhenra ng i n Ka rhi de, overs l ept brea kfa s t, a nd s o a rri ved i n the Audi ence Ha l l prompt, but hungry. The ol d Chi ef of the Counci l , the ki ng’s cous i n Gerer rem i r Verhen, met the Al i en a t the door of the grea t ha l l a nd greeted hi m wi th the pol ys yl l a bi c pol i tenes s of Ka rhi de. The Pl eni poten a ry res ponded a s bes t he coul d, di s cerni ng benea th the el oquence Gerer’s des i re to tel l hi m s omethi ng. “I a m tol d the ki ng i s perfectl y recovered,” he s a i d, “a nd I hea rti l y hope thi s i s true.” “It i s not,” the ol d Counci l l or s a i d, her voi ce s uddenl y bl unt a nd tonel es s . “Mr Axt, I tel l you thi s trus ng your confidence; there a re not ten others i n Ka rhi de who know the truth. She i s not recovered. She wa s not s i ck.” Axt nodded. There ha d of cours e been rumors . “She wi l l go a l one i n the ci ty s ome mes , a t ni ght, i n common cl othes , wa l ki ng, ta l ki ng wi th s tra ngers . The pres s ures of ki ngs hi p... She i s very young.” Gerer pa us ed a moment, s truggl i ng wi th s ome s uppres s ed emo on. “One ni ght s i x weeks a go, s he di d not come ba ck. A mes s a ge wa s del i vered to me a nd the Second Lord, a t da wn. If we a nnounced her di s a ppea ra nce, s he woul d be ki l l ed; i f we wa i ted a ha l f-month i n s i l ence s he woul d be res tored unhurt. We kept s i l ent, l i ed to the Counci l , s ent out fa l s e news . On the thi rteenth ni ght s he wa s found wa nderi ng i n the ci ty. She ha d been drugged a nd mi ndformed. By whi ch enemy or fa c on we do not yet know. We mus t work i n u er s ecrecy; we ca nnot wreck the peopl e’s confidence i n her, her own confidence i n hers el f. It i s ha rd: s he remembers nothi ng. But wha t they di d i s pl a i n. They broke her wi l l a nd bent her mi nd a l l to one thi ng. She bel i eves s he mus t a bdi ca te the throne.” The voi ce rema i ned l ow a nd fla t; the eyes betra yed a ngui s h. And the Pl eni poten a ry turni ng s uddenl y s a w the reflec on of tha t a ngui s h i n the eyes of the young ki ng. “Hol di ng my a udi ence, cous i n?” Arga ven s mi l ed but there wa s a kni fe i n i t. The ol d Counci l l or excus ed hers el f s tol i dl y, bowed, l e , a pa ent unga i nl y figure di mi ni s hi ng down a l ong corri dor. Arga ven s tretched out both ha nds to the Pl eni poten a ry i n the gree ng of equa l s , for i n Ka rhi de the Ekumen wa s recogni zed a s a s i s ter ki ngdom, though not a l i vi ng s oul ha d s een i t. But her words were not the pol i te di s cours e tha t Axt expected. Al l s he s a i d, a nd fi ercel y, wa s , “At l a s t!” “I l e a s s oon a s I recei ved your mes s a ge. The roa ds a re s l l i cy i n Ea s t Orgoreyn a nd the Wes t Fa l l , I coul dn’t ma ke very good me. But I wa s very gl a d to come. Gl a d to l ea ve, too.” Axt s mi l ed s a yi ng thi s , for he a nd the young ki ng enjoyed ea ch other’s 36

ca ndor. Wha t Arga ven’s wel come i mpl i ed, he wa i ted to s ee, wa tchi ng, wi th s ome exhi l a ra on, the mobi l e, bea u ful , a ndrogynous fa ce. “Orgoreyn breeds bi gots a s a corps e breeds worms , a s one of my a nces tors rema rked. I’m gl a d you find the a i r fres her here i n Ka rhi de. Come thi s wa y. Gerer tol d you tha t I wa s ki dna pped, a nd s o forth? Yes . It wa s a l l a ccordi ng to the ol d rul es . Ki dna ppi ng i s a qui te forma l a rt. If i t ha d been one of the a n -Al i en groups who thi nk your Ekumen i ntends to ens l a ve the ea rth, they mi ght ha ve i gnored the rul es ; I thi nk i t wa s one of the ol d cl a n-fa c ons hopi ng to rega i n power through me, the power they ha d i n the l a s t rei gn. But we don’t know, yet. It’s s tra nge, to know tha t one ha s s een them fa ce to fa ce a nd yet ca n’t recogni ze them; who knows but tha t I s ee thos e fa ces da i l y? Wel l , no profit i n s uch no ons . They wi ped out a l l thei r tra cks . I a m s ure onl y of one thi ng. They di d not tel l me tha t I mus t a bdi ca te.” She a nd the Pl eni poten a ry were wa l ki ng s i de by s i de up the l ong, i mmens el y hi gh room towa rd the da i s a nd cha i rs a t the fa r end. The wi ndows were l i l e more tha n s l i ts , a s us ua l on thi s col d worl d; ful vous s tri ps of s unl i ght fel l from them di a gona l l y to the red-pa ved floor, dus k a nd da zzl e i n Axt’s eyes . He l ooked up a t the young ki ng’s fa ce i n tha t s omber, s hi i ng ra di a nce. “Who then?” “I di d.” “When, my l ord, a nd why?” “When they ha d me, when they were rema ki ng me to fit thei r mol d a nd pl a y thei r ga me. Why? So tha t I ca n’t fit thei r mol d a nd pl a y thei r ga me! Li s ten, Lord Axt, i f they wa nted me dea d they’d ha ve ki l l ed me. They wa nt me a l i ve, to govern, to be ki ng. As s uch I a m to fol l ow the orders i mpri nted i n my bra i n, ga i n thei r ends for them. I a m thei r tool , thei r ma chi ne, wa i ng for the s wi tch to be thrown. The onl y wa y to prevent tha t, i s to... di s ca rd the ma chi ne.” Axt wa s qui ck of unders ta ndi ng, tha t bei ng a mi ni ma l qua l i fi ca ti on of a Mobi l e of the Ekumen; bes i des , the ma nners a nd a ffa i rs of Ka rhi de, the s tres s es a nd s edi ti ons of tha t l i vel y ki ngdom, were wel l known to hi m. Remote though Wi nter wa s , both i n s pa ce a nd i n the phys i ol ogy of i ts i nha bi ta nts , from the res t of the huma n ra ce, yet i ts domi na nt na on, Ka rhi de, ha d proved a l oya l member of the Ekumen. Axt’s reports were di s cus s ed i n the centra l counci l s of the Ekumen ei ghty l i ghtyea rs a wa y; the equi l i bri um of the Whol e res ts i n a l l i ts pa rts . Axt s a i d, a s they s a t down i n the grea t s ff cha i rs on the da i s before the fire, “But they need not even throw s wi tches , i f you a bdi ca te.” “Lea vi ng my chi l d a s hei r, a nd a Regent of my own choi ce?” “Perha ps ,” Axt s a i d wi th ca uti on, “they chos e your Regent for you.” The ki ng frowned. “I thi nk not,” s he s a i d. “Whom ha d you thought of na mi ng?” There wa s a l ong pa us e. Axt s a w the mus cl es of Arga ven’s throa t worki ng a s s he s truggl ed to get a word, a na me, up pa s t a bl ock, a ha rs h cons tri cti on; a t l a s t s he s a i d, i n a forced, s tra ngl ed whi s per, “Gerer.” Axt nodded, s ta rtl ed. Gerer ha d s erved a s Regent for a yea r a er Emra n’s dea th a nd before Arga ven’s a cces s i on; he knew her hones ty a nd her utter devoti on to the young ki ng. “Gerer s erves no fa cti on!” he s a i d. Arga ven s hook her hea d. She l ooked exha us ted. A er a whi l e s he s a i d, “Coul d the s ci ence of your peopl e undo wha t wa s done to me, Lord Axt?” “Pos s i bl y. In the Ins tute on Ol l ul . But i f I s ent for a s peci a l i s t toni ght, he’d get here twenty-four yea rs from now.... You’re s ure, then, tha t your deci s i on to a bdi ca te wa s —” But a s erva nt, comi ng i n a s i de door behi nd them, s et a s ma l l ta bl e by the Pl eni poten a ry’s cha i r a nd l oa ded i t wi th frui t, s l i ced brea d-a ppl e, a s i l ver ta nka rd of a l e. Arga ven ha d no ced tha t her gues t ha s mi s s ed hi s brea kfa s t. Though the fa re on Wi nter, mos tl y vegeta bl e a nd tha t mos tl y uncooked, wa s dul l s tuff to Axt’s ta s te, he s et to gra teful l y; a nd a s s eri ous ta l k wa s uns eeml y over food, Arga ven s hi ed to genera l i es . “Once you s a i d, Lord Axt, tha t di fferent a s I a m from you, a nd di fferent a s my peopl e a re from yours , yet we a re bl ood ki n. Wa s tha t a mora l fa ct, or a ma teri a l one?” Axt s mi l ed a t the very Ka rhi di s h di s nc on. “Both, my l ord. As fa r a s we know, whi ch i s a ny corner of dus ty s pa ce under the ra ers of the Uni vers e, a l l the peopl e we’ve run i nto a re i n fa ct huma n. But the ki ns hi p goes ba ck a mi l l i on yea rs a nd more, to the Fore-Era s of Ha i n. The a nci ent Ha i ni s h s ettl ed a hundred worl ds .” “We ca l l the ti me before my dyna s ty rul ed Ka rhi de ‘a nci ent.’ Seven hundred yea rs a go!” “So we ca l l the Age of the Enemy ‘a nci ent,’ a nd tha t wa s l es s tha n s i x hundred yea rs a go. Ti me s tretches a nd s hri nks ; cha nges wi th the eye, wi th the a ge, wi th the s ta r; does a l l except revers e i ts el f—or repea t.” “ The drea m of the Ekumen, then, i s to res tore tha t trul y a nci ent commona l ty; to rega ther a l l the peopl es of a l l the worl ds a t one hea rth?” Axt nodded, chewi ng brea d-a ppl e. “ To wea ve s ome ha rmony a mong them, a t l ea s t. Li fe l oves to know i ts el f, out to i ts furthes t l i mi ts ; to embra ce compl exi ty i s i ts del i ght. Our di fference i s our bea uty. Al l thes e worl ds a nd the va ri ous forms a nd wa ys of the mi nds a nd l i ves a nd bodi es on them—together they woul d ma ke a s pl endi d ha rmony.” “No ha rmony endures ,” s a i d the young ki ng. “None ha s ever been a chi eved,” s a i d the Pl eni poten a ry. “ The pl ea s ure i s i n tryi ng.” He dra i ned hi s ta nka rd, wi ped hi s fingers on the woven-gra s s na pki n. 37

“Tha t wa s my pl ea s ure a s ki ng,” s a i d Arga ven. “It i s over.” “Shoul d—” “It i s fini s hed. Bel i eve me. I wi l l keep you here, Lord Axt, un l you bel i eve me. I need your hel p. You a re the pi ece the ga mepl a yers forgot a bout! You mus t hel p me. I ca nnot a bdi ca te a ga i ns t the wi l l of the Counci l . They wi l l refus e my a bdi ca on, force me to rul e, a nd i f I rul e, I s erve my enemi es ! If you wi l l not hel p me, I wi l l ha ve to ki l l mys el f.” She s poke qui te evenl y a nd rea s ona bl y; but Axt knew wha t even the men on of s ui ci de, the ul ma tel y contemp bl e a ct, cos t a Ka rhi der. “One wa y or the other,” s a i d the young ki ng. The Pl eni poten a ry pul l ed hi s hea vy cl oa k cl os er round hi m; he wa s col d. He ha d been col d for s even yea rs , here. “My l ord,” he s a i d, “I a m a n a l i en on your worl d, wi th a ha ndful of a i des , a nd a l i l e devi ce wi th whi ch I ca n convers e wi th other a l i ens on di s ta nt worl ds . I repres ent power, of cours e, but I ha ve none. How ca n I hel p you?” “You ha ve a s hi p on Horden Is l a nd.” “Ah. I wa s a fra i d of tha t,” s a i d the Pl eni poten a ry, s i ghi ng. “Lord Arga ven, tha t s hi p i s s et for Ol l ul , twenty-four l i ghtyea rs a wa y. Do you know wha t tha t mea ns ?” “My es ca pe from my ti me, i n whi ch I ha ve become a n i ns trument of evi l .” “There i s no es ca pe,” s a i d Axt, wi th s udden i ntens i ty, “No, my l ord. Forgi ve me. It i s i mpos s i bl e. I coul d not cons ent—” Icy ra i n of s pri ng ra l ed on the s tones of the tower, wi nd whi ned a t the a ngl es a nd fini a l s of the roof. The room wa s qui et, s ha dowy. One s ma l l s hi el ded l i ght burned by the door. The nurs e l a y s nori ng mi l dl y i n the bed, the ba by wa s hea d down, rump up i n the cri b. Arga ven s tood bes i de the cri b. She l ooked a round the room, or ra ther s a w i t, knew i t whol l y, wi thout l ooki ng. She too ha d s l ept here a s a l i l e chi l d. It ha d been her firs t ki ngdom. It wa s here tha t s he ha d come to s uckl e her chi l d, her firs tborn, ha d s a t by the firepl a ce whi l e the l i l e mouth tugged a t her brea s t, ha d hummed to the ba by the s ongs Borhub ha d hummed to her. Thi s wa s the center, the center of everythi ng. Very ca u ous l y a nd gentl y s he s l i pped her ha nd under the ba by’s wa rm, da mp, downy hea d, a nd put over i t a cha i n on whi ch hung a ma s s i ve ri ng ca rved wi th the token of the Lords of Ha rge. The cha i n wa s fa r too l ong, a nd Arga ven kno ed i t s horter, thi nki ng tha t i t mi ght twi s t a nd choke the chi l d. So a l l a yi ng tha t s ma l l a nxi ety, s he tri ed to a l l a y the grea t fea r a nd wretched nes s tha t fil l ed her. She s tooped down l l her cheek touched the ba by’s cheek, whi s peri ng i na udi bl y, “Emra n, Emra n, I ha ve to l ea ve you, I ca n’t ta ke you, you ha ve to rul e for me. Be good, Emra n, l i ve l ong, rul e wel l , be good, Emra n....” She s tra i ghtened up, turned, ra n from the tower room, the l os t ki ngdom. She knew s evera l wa ys of ge ng out of the Pa l a ce unpercei ved. She took the s ures t, a nd then ma de for the New Ha rbor through the bri ght-l i t, s l eet-l a s hed s treets of Erhenra ng, a l one. Now there i s no pi cture: no s eei ng her. Wi th wha t eye wi l l you wa tch a proces s tha t i s one hundred mi l l i onth percent s l ower tha n the s peed of l i ght? She i s not now a ki ng, nor a huma n bei ng; s he i s tra ns l a ted. You ca n s ca rcel y ca l l fel l ow-morta l one whos e me pa s s es s eventy thous a nd mes s l ower tha n yours . She i s more tha n a l one. It s eems tha t s he i s not, a ny more tha n a n uncommuni ca ted thought i s ; tha t s he goes nowhere, a ny more tha n a thought goes . And yet, a t very nea rl y but never qui te the s peed of l i ght, s he voya ges . She i s the voya ge. Qui ck a s thought. She ha s doubl ed her a ge when s he a rri ves , l es s tha n a da y ol der, i n the por on of s pa ce curved a bout a dus tmote na med Ol l ul , the fourth pl a net of a yel l owi s h s un. And a l l thi s ha s pa s s ed i n utter s i l ence. Wi th noi s e now, a nd fire a nd meteori c da zzl e enough to s a s fy a Ka rhi der’s l us t for s pl endor, the cl ever s hi p ma kes ea rthfa l l , s e l i ng down i n fla me i n the preci s e s pot i t l e from s ome fi y-five yea rs a go. Pres entl y, vi s i bl e, unma s s i ve, uncerta i n, the young ki ng emerges from i t a nd s ta nds a moment i n the exi twa y, s hi el di ng her eyes from the l i ght of a s tra nge, hot s un. Axt ha d of cours e s ent no ce of her comi ng, by i ns ta nta neous tra ns mi er, twenty-four yea rs a go, or s eventeen hours a go, dependi ng on how you l ook a t i t; a nd a i des a nd a gents of the Ekumen were on ha nd to greet her. Even pa wns di d not go unno ced by thos e pl a yers of the grea t ga me, a nd thi s Getheni a n wa s , a er a l l , a ki ng. One of the a gents ha d s pent a yea r of the twentyfour i n l ea rni ng Ka rhi di s h, s o tha t Arga ven coul d s pea k to s omeone. She s poke a t once: “Wha t news from my country?” “Mr Mobi l e Axt a nd hi s s ucces s or ha ve s ent regul a r s umma ri es of events , a nd va ri ous pri va te mes s a ges for you; you’l l find a l l the ma teri a l i n your qua rters , Mr Ha rge. Very bri efly, the regency of Lord Gerer wa s uneven ul a nd beni gn; there wa s a depres s i on i n the firs t two yea rs , duri ng whi ch your Arc c s e l ements were a ba ndoned, but a t pres ent the economy i s qui te s ta bl e. Your hei r wa s enthroned a t ei ghteen, a nd ha s rul ed now for s even yea rs .” “Yes . I s ee,” s a i d the pers on who ha d ki s s ed tha t yea r-ol d hei r l a s t ni ght. “Whenever you s ee fi t, Mr Ha rge, the s peci a l i s ts a t our Ins ti tute over i n Bel xi t—” “As you wi s h,” s a i d Mr Ha rge. They went i nto her mi nd very gentl y, very s ubtl y, openi ng doors . For l ocked doors they ha d del i ca te i ns truments tha t a l wa ys found the combi na on; a nd then they s tood a s i de, a nd l et her enter. They found the pers on i n bl a ck, who wa s not Gerer, a nd compa s s i ona te Reba de, who wa s not compa s s i ona te; they s tood wi th her on the Pa l a ce ba l cony, a nd cl i mbed the creva s s es of ni ghtma re wi th her up to the room i n the tower; a nd a t l a s t the one who wa s to ha ve been firs t, the pers on i n red a nd whi te, a pproa ched her s a yi ng, “Ma jes ty! A pl ot a ga i ns t your l i fe—” And Mr Ha rge s crea med i n a bject terror, a nd woke up.

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“Wel l ! Tha t wa s the tri gger. The s i gna l to begi n tri ppi ng off the other i ns truc ons a nd determi ne the cours e of your phobi a . An i nduced pa ra noi a . Rea l l y bea u ful l y i nduced, I mus t s a y. Here, dri nk thi s , Mr Ha rge. No, i t’s jus t wa ter! You mi ght wel l ha ve become a rema rka bl y vi ci ous rul er, i ncrea s i ngl y obs es s ed by fea r of pl ots a nd s ubvers i ons , i ncrea s i ngl y di s a ffected from your peopl e. Not overni ght, of cours e. Tha t’s the bea uty of i t. It woul d ha ve ta ken s evera l yea rs for you to become a rea l tyra nt; though they no doubt pl a nned s ome boos ts a l ong the wa y, once Reba de wormed hi s wa y— her wa y—a wa y i nto your confi dence.... Wel l , wel l , I s ee why Ka rhi de i s wel l s poken of, over a t the Cl ea ri nghous e. If you’l l pa rdon my objec vi ty, thi s ki nd of s ki l l a nd pa ence i s qui te ra re....” So the doctor, the mi ndmender, the ha i ry, greyi s h, one-s exed pers on from s omewhere ca l l ed the Ce a ns , went ra mbl i ng on whi l e the pa ti ent recovered hers el f. “Then I di d ri ght,” s a i d Mr Ha rge a t l a s t. “You di d. Abdi ca on, s ui ci de, or es ca pe were the onl y a cts of cons equence whi ch you coul d ha ve commi ed of your own vol i on, freel y. They counted on your mora l veto on s ui ci de, a nd your Counci l ’s vote on a bdi ca on. But bei ng pos s es s ed by a mbi on thems el ves , they forgot the pos s i bi l i ty of a bnega on, a nd l e one door open for you. A door whi ch onl y a s trongmi nded pers on, i f you’l l pa rdon my l i tera l nes s , coul d choos e to go through. I rea l l y mus t rea d up on thi s other mi nds ci ence of yours , wha t do you ca l l i t, Foretel l i ng? Thought i t wa s s ome occul s t tra s h, but qui te evi dentl y... Wel l , wel l , I expect they’l l be wa nti ng you to l ook i n a t the Cl ea ri nghous e s oon, to di s cus s your future, now tha t we’ve put your pa s t where i t bel ongs , eh?” “As you wi s h,” s a i d Mr Ha rge. She ta l ked wi th va ri ous peopl e there i n the Cl ea ri nghous e of the Ekumen for the Wes t Worl ds , a nd when they s ugges ted tha t s he go to s chool , s he a s s ented rea di l y. For a mong thos e mi l d pers ons , whos e chi ef qua l i ty s eemed a cool , profound s a dnes s i ndi s ngui s ha bl e from a wa rm, profound hi l a ri ty—a mong them, the ex-ki ng of Ka rhi de knew hers el f a ba rba ri a n, unl ea rned a nd unwi s e. She a ended Ekumeni ca l School . She l i ved i n ba rra cks nea r the Cl ea ri nghous e i n Va xts i t Ci ty, wi th a coupl e of hundred other a l i ens , none of whom wa s ei ther a ndrogynous or a n ex-ki ng. Never ha vi ng owned much tha t wa s hers a l one, a nd never ha vi ng ha d much pri va cy, s he di d not mi nd ba rra cks l i fe; nor wa s i t s o ba d a s s he ha d expected to l i ve a mong s i ngl e-s exed peopl e, a l though s he found thei r condi on of perpetua l kemmer res ome. She di d not mi nd a nythi ng much, ge ng through the works a nd da ys wi th vi gor a nd competence but a l wa ys a certa i n heedl es s nes s , a s of one whos e center i s s omewhere el s e. The onl y di s comfort wa s the hea t, the a wful hea t of Ol l ul tha t ros e s ome mes to 35° C i n the bl a zi ng i ntermi na bl e s ea s on when no s now fel l for two hundred da ys on end. Even when wi nter ca me a t l a s t s he s wea ted, for i t s el dom got more tha n ten degrees bel ow freezi ng outs i de, a nd the ba rra cks were kept s wel teri ng—s he thought—though the other a l i ens wore hea vy s wea ters a l l the me. She s l ept on top of her bed, na ked a nd thra s hi ng, a nd drea med of the s nows of the Ka rga v, the i ce i n Ol d Ha rbor, the i ce s cummi ng one’s a l e on cool morni ngs i n the Pa l a ce, the col d, the dea r a nd bi tter col d of Wi nter. She l ea rned a good dea l , She ha d a l rea dy l ea rned tha t the Ea rth wa s , here, ca l l ed Wi nter, a nd tha t Ol l ul wa s , here, ca l l ed the Ea rth: one of thos e fa cts whi ch turn the uni vers e i ns i de out l i ke a s ock. She l ea rned tha t a mea t di et ca us es di a rrhea i n the una ccus tomed gut. She l ea rned tha t s i ngl e-s exed peopl e, whom s he tri ed ha rd not to thi nk of a s perverts , tri ed ha rd not to thi nk of her a s a pervert. She l ea rned tha t when s he pronounced Ol l ul a s Orrur s ome peopl e l a ughed. She a empted a l s o to unl ea rn tha t s he wa s a ki ng. Once the School took her i n ha nd s he l ea rned a nd unl ea rned much more. She wa s l ed, by a l l the ma chi nes a nd devi ces a nd experi ences a nd (s i mpl es t a nd mos t dema ndi ng) words tha t the Ekumen ha d a t i ts di s pos a l , i nto a n i nti ma ti on of wha t i t mi ght be to unders ta nd the na ture a nd hi s tory of a ki ngdom tha t wa s over a mi l l i on yea rs ol d a nd tri l l i ons of mi l es wi de. When s he ha d begun to gues s the i mmens i ty of thi s ki ngdom of huma ni ty a nd the dura bl e pa i n a nd monotonous wa s te of i ts hi s tory, s he bega n a l s o to s ee wha t l a y beyond i ts borders i n s pa ce a nd me, a nd a mong na ked rocks a nd furna ce-s uns a nd the s hi ni ng des ol a on tha t goes on a nd on s he gl i mps ed the s ources of hi l a ri ty a nd s ereni ty, the i nexha us bl e s pri ngs . She l ea rned a grea t ma ny fa cts , numbers , myths , epi cs , propor ons , rel a ons hi ps , a nd s o forth, a nd s a w, beyond the borders of wha t s he ha d l ea rned, the unknown a ga i n, a s pl endi d i mmens i ty. In thi s a ugmenta on of her mi nd a nd bei ng there wa s grea t s a ti s fa cti on; yet s he wa s uns a s fied. They di d not a l wa ys l et her go on a s fa r a s s he wa nted i nto certa i n fiel ds , ma thema cs , Ce a n phys i cs . “You s ta rted l a te, Mr Ha rge,” they s a i d, “we ha ve to bui l d on the exi s ng founda ons . Bes i des , we wa nt you i n s ubjects whi ch you ca n put to us e.” “Wha t us e?” They—the ethnogra pher Mr Mobi l e Gi s t repres ented Them a t the moment, a cros s a l i bra ry ta bl e—l ooked a t her s a rdoni ca l l y. “Do you cons i der yours el f to be of no further us e, Mr Ha rge?” Mr Ha rge, who wa s genera l l y res erved, s poke wi th s udden fury: “I do.” “A ki ng wi thout a country,” s a i d Gi s t i n hi s fla t Terra n a ccent, “s el f-exi l ed, bel i eved to be dea d, mi ght feel a tri fle s uperfluous . But then, why do you thi nk we’re botheri ng wi th you?” “Out of ki ndnes s .” “Oh, ki ndnes s ... However ki nd we a re, we ca n gi ve you nothi ng tha t woul d ma ke you ha ppy, you know. Except... Wel l . Wa s te i s a pi ty. You were i ndubi ta bl y the ri ght ki ng for Wi nter, for Ka rhi de, for the purpos es of the Ekumen. You ha ve a s ens e of ba l a nce. You mi ght even ha ve uni fied the pl a net. You certa i nl y woul dn’t ha ve terrori zed a nd fra gmented the country, a s the pres ent ki ng s eems to be doi ng. Wha t a wa s te! Onl y cons i der our hopes a nd needs , Mr Ha rge, a nd your own qua l i fica ons , before you des pa i r of bei ng us eful i n your l i fe. Forty or fi fty more yea rs of i t you ha ve to l i ve, a fter a l l ...” The l a s t s na ps hot ta ken by a l i en s unl i ght: erect, i n a Ha i ni s h-s tyl e cl oa k of grey, a ha nds ome pers on of i ndetermi na te s ex s ta nds , s wea ng profus el y, on a green l a wn bes i de the chi ef Agent of the Ekumen i n the Wes t Worl ds , the Sta bi l e, Mr Hoa l a ns of Al b, who ca n meddl e (i f he l i kes ) wi th the des ti ni es of forty worl ds .

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“I ca n’t order you to go there, Arga ven,” s a ys the Sta bi l e. “Your own cons ci ence—” “I ga ve up my ki ngdom to my cons ci ence, twel ve yea rs a go. It’s ha d i ts due. Enough’s enough,” s a ys Arga ven Ha rge. Then s he l a ughs s uddenl y, s o tha t the Sta bi l e a l s o l a ughs ; a nd they pa rt i n s uch ha rmony a s the Powers of the Ekumen des i re between huma n s oul s . Horden Is l a nd, off the s outh coa s t of Ka rhi de, wa s gi ven a s a freehol d to the Ekumen by the Ki ngdom of Ka rhi de duri ng the rei gn of Arga ven XV. No one l i ved there. Yea rl y genera ons of s ea wa l ki es cra wl ed up on the ba rren rocks , a nd l a i d a nd ha tched thei r eggs , a nd ra i s ed thei r young, a nd fina l l y l ed them ba ck i n l ong s i ngl e fil e to the s ea . But once every ten or twenty yea rs fire ra n over the rocks a nd the s ea boi l ed on the s hores , a nd i f a ny s ea wa l ki es were on the i s l a nd then they di ed. When the s ea ha d cea s ed to boi l , the Pl eni poten a ry’s l i l e el ectri c l a unch a pproa ched. The s ta rs hi p ra n out a gos s a mer-s teel ga ngpl a nk to the deck of the l a unch, a nd one pers on s ta rted to wa l k up i t a s a nother one s ta rted to wa l k down i t, s o tha t they met i n the mi ddl e, i n mi da i r, between s ea a nd l a nd, a n a mbi guous meeti ng. “Amba s s a dor Horrs ed? I’m Ha rge,” s a i d the one from the s ta rs hi p, but the one from the l a unch wa s a l rea dy kneel i ng, s a yi ng a l oud, i n Ka rhi di s h, “Wel come, Arga ven of Ka rhi de!” As he s tra i ghtened up the Amba s s a dor a dded i n a qui ck whi s per, “You come a s yours el f— Expl a i n when I ca n—” Behi nd a nd bel ow hi m on the deck of the l a unch s tood a s i za bl e group of peopl e, s ta ri ng up i ntentl y a t the newcomer. Al l were Ka rhi ders by thei r l ooks ; s evera l were very ol d. Arga ven Ha rge s tood for a mi nute, two mi nutes , three mi nutes , erect a nd perfectl y mo onl es s , though her grey cl oa k tugged a nd ri ffled i n the col d s ea wi nd. She l ooked then once a t the dul l s un i n the wes t, once a t the grey l a nd north a cros s the wa ter, ba ck a ga i n a t the s i l ent peopl e grouped bel ow her on the deck. She s trode forwa rd s o s uddenl y tha t Amba s s a dor Horrs ed ha d to s queeze out of the wa y i n a hurry. She went s tra i ght to one of the ol d peopl e on the deck of the l a unch. “Are you Ker rem i r Kerheder?” “I a m.” “I knew you by the l a me a rm, Ker.” She s poke cl ea rl y; there wa s no gues s i ng wha t emoti ons s he fel t. “I coul d not know your fa ce. After s i xty yea rs . Are there others of you I knew? I a m Arga ven.” They were a l l s i l ent. They ga zed a t her. Al l a t once one of them, one s cored a nd s ca rred wi th a ge l i ke wood tha t ha s been through fire, s tepped forwa rd one s tep. “My l i ege, I a m Ba nni th of the Pa l a ce Gua rd. You s erved wi th me when I wa s Dri l l ma s ter a nd you a chi l d, a young chi l d.” And the grey hea d bowed down s uddenl y, i n homa ge, or to hi de tea rs . Then a nother s tepped forwa rd, a nd a nother. The hea ds tha t bowed were grey, whi te, ba l d; the voi ces tha t ha i l ed the ki ng qua vered. One, Ker of the cri ppl ed a rm, whom Arga ven ha d known a s a s hy pa ge of thi rteen, s poke fiercel y to thos e who s l l s tood unmovi ng: “ Thi s i s the ki ng. I ha ve eyes tha t ha ve s een, a nd tha t s ee now. Thi s i s the ki ng!” Arga ven l ooked a t them, fa ce a fter fa ce, the bowed hea ds a nd the unbowed. “I a m Arga ven,” s he s a i d. “I wa s ki ng. Who rei gns now i n Ka rhi de?” “Emra n,” one a ns wered. “My chi l d Emra n?” “Yes , my l i ege,” ol d Ba nni th s a i d; mos t of the fa ces were bl a nk; but Ker s a i d i n her fierce s ha ki ng voi ce, “Arga ven, Arga ven rei gns i n Ka rhi de! I ha ve l i ved to s ee the bri ght da ys return. Long l i ve the ki ng!” One of the younger ones l ooked a t the others , a nd s a i d res ol utel y, “So be i t. Long l i ve the ki ng!” And a l l the hea ds bowed l ow. Arga ven took thei r homa ge unperturbed, but a s s oon a s a moment ca me when s he coul d a ddres s Horrs ed the Pl eni poten a ry a l one s he dema nded, “Wha t i s thi s ? Wha t ha s ha ppened? Why wa s I mi s l ed? I wa s tol d I wa s to come here to a s s i s t you, a s a n a i de, from the Ekumen—” “ Tha t wa s twenty-four yea rs a go,” s a i d the Amba s s a dor, a pol oge ca l l y. “I’ve onl y l i ved here five yea rs , my l ord. Thi ngs a re goi ng very i l l i n Ka rhi de. Ki ng Emra n broke off rel a ons wi th the Ekumen l a s t yea r. I don’t rea l l y know wha t the Sta bi l e’s purpos e i n s endi ng you here wa s a t the ti me he s ent you; but a t pres ent, we’re l os i ng Wi nter. So the Agents on Ha m s ugges ted to me tha t we mi ght move out our ki ng.” “But I a m dea d,” Arga ven s a i d wra thful l y. “I ha ve been dea d for s i xty yea rs !” “The ki ng i s dea d,” s a i d Horrs ed. “Long l i ve the ki ng.” As s ome of the Ka rhi ders a pproa ched, Arga ven turned from the Amba s s a dor a nd went over to the ra i l . Grey wa ter bubbl ed a nd s l i d by the s hi p’s s i de. The s hore of the con nent l a y now to thei r l e , grey pa tched wi th whi te. It wa s col d: a da y of ea rl y wi nter i n the Ice Age. The s hi p’s engi ne purred s o l y. Arga ven ha d not hea rd tha t purr of a n el ectri c engi ne for a dozen yea rs now, the onl y ki nd of engi ne Ka rhi de’s s l ow a nd s ta bl e Age of Technol ogy ha d chos en to empl oy. The s ound of i t wa s very pl ea s a nt to her. She s poke a bruptl y wi thout turni ng, a s one who ha s known s i nce i nfa ncy tha t there i s a l wa ys s omeone there to a ns wer: “Why 40

a re we goi ng ea s t?” “We’re ma ki ng for Kerm La nd.” “Why Kerm La nd?” It wa s one of the younger ones who ha d come forwa rd to a ns wer: “Beca us e tha t pa rt of the country i s i n rebel l i on a ga i ns t the— a ga i ns t Ki ng Emra n. I a m a Kerml a nder: Perreth ner Sode.” “Is Emra n i n Erhenra ng?” “Erhenra ng wa s ta ken by Orgoreyn, s i x yea rs a go. The ki ng i s i n the new ca pi ta l , ea s t of the mounta i ns — the Ol d Ca pi ta l , a ctua l l y, Rer.” “Emra n l os t the Wes t Fa l l ?” Arga ven s a i d, a nd then turni ng ful l on the s tout young nobl e, “Los t the Wes t Fa l l ? Los t Erhenra ng?” Perreth drew ba ck a s tep, but a ns wered promptl y, “We’ve been i n hi di ng behi nd the mounta i ns for s i x yea rs .” “The Orgota a re i n Erhenra ng?” “Ki ng Emra n s i gned a trea ty wi th Orgoreyn fi ve yea rs a go, cedi ng them the Wes tern Provi nces .” “A s ha meful trea ty, your ma jes ty,” ol d Ker broke i n, fiercer a nd s ha ki er tha n ever. “A fool ’s trea ty! Emra n da nces to the drums of Orgoreyn. Al l of us here a re rebel s , exi l es . The Amba s s a dor there i s i n exi l e, i n hi di ng!” “ The Wes t Fa l l ,” Arga ven s a i d. “Arga ven I took the Wes t Fa l l for Ka rhi de s even hundred yea rs a go—” She l ooked round on the others a ga i n wi th her s tra nge, keen, unheedi ng ga ze. “Emra n—” s he bega n, but ha l ted. “How s trong a re you i n Kerm La nd? Is the Coa s t wi th you?” “Mos t Hea rths of the South a nd Ea s t a re wi th us .” Arga ven wa s s i l ent a whi l e. “Di d Emra n ever bea r a n hei r?” “No hei r of the fl es h, my l i ege,” Ba nni th s a i d. “She s i red s i x.” “She ha s na med Gi rvry Ha rge rem i r Orek a s her hei r,” s a i d Perreth. “Gi rvry? Wha t ki nd of na me i s tha t? The ki ngs of Ka rhi de a re na med Emra n,” Arga ven s a i d, “a nd Arga ven.” Now a t l a s t comes the da rk pi cture, the s na ps hot ta ken by firel i ght—firel i ght, beca us e the power pl a nts of Rer a re wrecked, the trunk l i nes cut, a nd ha l f the ci ty i s on fire. Snow flurri es hea vi l y down a bove the fla mes a nd gl ea ms red for a moment before i t mel ts i n mi d a i r, hi s s i ng fa i ntl y. Snow a nd i ce a nd guerri l l a troops keep Orgoreyn a t ba y on the wes t s i de of the Ka rga v Mounta i ns . No hel p ca me to the Ol d Ki ng, Emra n, when her country ros e a ga i ns t her. Her gua rds fled, her ci ty burns , a nd now a t the end s he i s fa ce to fa ce wi th the us urper. But s he ha s , a t the end, s omethi ng of her fa mi l y’s heedl es s pri de. She pa ys no a en on to the rebel s . She s ta res a t them a nd does not s ee them, l yi ng i n the da rk ha l l wa y, l i t onl y by mi rrors tha t reflect di s ta nt fires , the gun wi th whi ch s he ki l l ed hers el f nea r her ha nd. Stoopi ng over the body Arga ven l i s up tha t col d ha nd, a nd s ta rts to ta ke from the a ge-kno ed forefinger the ma s s i ve, ca rved, gol d ri ng. But s he does not do i t. “Keep i t,” s he whi s pers , “keep i t.” For a moment s he bends yet l ower, a s i f s he whi s pered i n the dea d ea r, or l a i d her cheek a ga i ns t tha t col d a nd wri nkl ed fa ce. Then s he s tra i ghtens up, a nd s ta nds a whi l e, a nd pres entl y goes out through da rk corri dors , by wi ndows bri ght wi th di s ta nt rui n, to s et her hous e i n order: Arga ven, Wi nter’s ki ng. THE GOOD TRIP

Thi s s tory wa s publ i s hed when the drug s cene wa s bi g i n the medi a , a nd one res pons e to i t wa s tha t I wa s tryi ng to ca s h i n on a hot topi c. Tha t s truck me a s funny, gi ven my i nfa l l i bl e ta l ent for mi s s i ng wha tever boa t a l l the fa s hi ona bl e peopl e a re on— a nd a l s o i n vi ew of the fa ct tha t, i n a wa y, the poi nt of the l i l e s tory i s tha t Lewi s does n’t ta ke the chemi ca l tri p, but gets there on hi s own... wi th a l i ttl e hel p from hi s fri end. But i ts not a n a n -drug s tory ei ther. My onl y s trong opi ni on a bout drugs (pot, ha l l uci nogens , a l cohol ) i s a n -prohi bi on a nd pro-educa on. I ha ve to a dmi t tha t peopl e who expa nd thei r cons ci ous nes s by l i vi ng i ns tea d of by ta ki ng chemi ca l s us ua l l y come ba ck wi th much more i nteres ng reports of where they’ve been. But I’m a n a ddi ct mys el f (toba cco), a nd i t woul d be pl a i n s i l l y i n me to cel ebra te or to condemn a nybody el s e for a s i mi l a r dependence. As he s wa l l owed the s tuff he knew he s houl dn’t s wa l l ow the s tuff, knew i t for s ure, knew i t a s a dri ver knows the truck comi ng s tra i ght a t hi m a t 70 mph: s uddenl y, i n ma tel y, fina l l y. Hi s throa t s hut, hi s s ol a r pl exus kno ed up l i ke a s ea a nemone, but too l a te. Down the ha tch i t went, the bi t of bi tter ca ndy, the a ci d-drop, the s ourba l l , the peppy pa cket of power, etchi ng a l i ttl e corroded tra i l of terror behi nd i t a l l the wa y down hi s es opha gus l i ke a poi s oned s na i l s wa l l owed whol e. It wa s the terror tha t wa s wrong. He wa s a fra i d a nd ha dn’t known i t, a nd now i t wa s too l a te. You ca n’t a fford to be a fra i d. Fea r foul s i t a l l up, a nd s ends thos e few, thos e unha ppy few, a very s ma l l percenta ge, to the l oony bi n to cower i n comers not s a yi ng a nythi ng....

41

You ha ve nothi ng to fea r but fea r i ts el f. Yes s i r. Yes s i r Mr. Roos evel t s i r. The thi ng to do i s rel a x. Thi nk good thoughts . If ra pe i nevi ta bl e— He wa tched Ri ch Ha rri nger open up hi s l i l e pa cket (a ccura tel y compounded a nd hygi eni ca l l y wra pped by a coupl e of fel l ows pu ng thems el ves through gra d s chool i n chemi s try by the a pproved Ameri ca n method of free enterpri s e, i l l egi ma te to be s ure but thi s i s not unus ua l i n Ameri ca where s o l i l e i s l ega l tha t even a ba by ca n be i l l egi ma te) a nd s wa l l ow the s ma l l s our s na i l wi th forma l a nd del i bera te enjoyment. If ra pe i nevi ta bl e, rel a x a nd enjoy. Once a week. But i s a nythi ng i nevi ta bl e bes i des dea th? Why rel a x, why enjoy? He woul d fight. He woul d not go on a ba d tri p. He woul d fight the drug cons ci ous l y a nd purpos eful l y, not i n pa ni c but wi th i ntent, a nd we’l l s ee who wi ns . In thi s comer LSD/a l pha , 100 mi crogra ms , pl a i n wra pper, the Ti beta n Whi rl wi nd; a nd i n thi s corner, l a di es a nd jungl emen, L.S.D./B.A., M.A., 166 l bs ., the Sonoma Sni vel l er, wea ri ng whi te trunks , a nd red s ui tca s es , a nd bl ue cheekpouches . Let me out of here, l et me out of here! Cl a ng. Nothi ng ha ppened. Lewi s Si dney Da vi d, the ma n wi th no l a s t na me, the Jewi s h Kel t, cornered i n thi s corner, s ta red wa ri l y a round hi m. Hi s three compa ni ons a l l l ooked norma l , i n focus i f out of touch. They di d not ha ve a rms . Ji m wa s l yi ng on the vermi nous s ofa -bed rea di ng Ra mpa rts , a tri p to Vi etna m he wa nted ma ybe, or to Sa cra mento. Ri ch l ooked torpi d, he a l wa ys l ooked torpi d even when s ervi ng free l unch i n the pa rk, a nd Al ex wa s ni tpi cki ng a round on hi s gui ta r. The i nfini te s a s fa c on of the chord. The s i l ver cord. Surs um corda . If he ca rri es a gui ta r a round why ca n’t he pl a y a tune on i t? No. Irri ta bi l i ty i s a s ymptom of l os s of s el f-control : s uppres s i t. Suppres s everythi ng. Cens or, cens or. Fi ght, tea m, fi ght! Lewi s got up, obs ervi ng wi th pl ea s ure the rea dy ea s e of hi s res pons es a nd the perfec on of hi s s ens e of ba l a nce, a nd fil l ed a gl a s s of wa ter a t the vi l e s i nk. Bea rd ha i rs , s pa t-out Col ga te, rus t a nd ra di s h droppi ngs , a s i nk of i ni qui ty. A s ma l l s i nk, but mi ne own. Why di d he l i ve i n thi s dump? Why ha d he a s ked Ji m a nd Ri ch a nd Al ex to come s ha re thei r s uga rl umps wi th hi m here? It wa s l ous y enough wi thout bei ng a n opi um den too. Soon i t woul d be l i ered wi th i nert bodi es , eyes droppi ng out l i ke ma rbl es a nd rol l i ng under the bed to joi n the dus t a nd rui n l urki ng there. Lewi s ca rri ed the gl a s s of wa ter over to the wi ndow, dra nk ha l f of i t, a nd bega n to pour the res t gentl y a round the roots of a s eedl i ng ol i ve tree i n a mended ten-cent pot. “Ha ve a dri nk on me,” he s a i d, l ooki ng cl os el y a t the tree. It wa s fi ve i nches hi gh but l ooked very l i ke a n ol i ve tree, gna rl ed a nd dura bl e. A bons a i . Ba nza i ! But where’s s a tori ? Where’s the s i gni fica nce, the enha ncement, a l l the s ha pes a nd col ors a nd mea ni ngs , the i ntens i fica on of the percep on of rea l i ty? How l ong does i t ta ke the da mned s tuff to work? There s a t hi s ol i ve tree. No l es s , no more. Unenha nced, i ns i gni fi ca nt. Men cry Pea ce, pea ce, but there i s no pea ce. Not enough ol i ve trees to go a round, due to popul a on expl os i on of huma n s peci es . Wa s tha t a Percep on? No, a ny undrugged mea t-hea d coul d ha ve percei ved i t. O come on, poi s on, poi s on me. Come, ha l l uci na on, come, s o tha t I ma y fi ght you, reject you, refus e you, l os e the fi ght a nd go ma d, s i l entl y. Li ke Is obel . Tha t wa s why he l i ved i n thi s dump, a nd tha t wa s why he ha d a s ked Ji m a nd Ri ch a nd Al ex here, a nd tha t wa s why he wa s off on a tri p wi th them, a pl ea s ure-crui s e, a hol i da y i n pi ctures que Ol d Erewhon. He wa s tryi ng to ca tch up wi th hi s wi fe. Wha t i s mos t di ffi cul t a bout wa tchi ng your wi fe go i ns a ne i s tha t you ca n’t go wi th her. Fa rther a nd fa rther a wa y s he wa l ks , not l ooki ng ba ck, a l ong tri p down i nto s i l ence. The l yre fa l l s dumb, a nd the ps ychi a tri s ts a re l i a rs too. You s ta nd behi nd the gl a s s wa l l of your s a ni ty l i ke one a t a n a i rport wa tchi ng a cra s h. You s hout, “Is obel !” She never hea rd. The pl a ne cra s hed i n s i l ence. She coul d not hea r hi m ca l l her na me. Nor coul d s he s pea k to hi m. Now the wa l l s tha t di vi ded hi m from her were bri ck, very s ol i d, a nd he coul d do wha t he l i ked wi th hi s own gl a s s hous e of s a ni ty. Throw s tones . Throw a l pha s . Ti nkl e, cra s h. LSD/a l pha di d not dri ve you i ns a ne, of cours e. It di d not even unra vel your chromos omes . It s i mpl y opened the door to the hi gher rea l i ty. So di d s chi zophreni a , he ga thered, but the troubl e there wa s tha t you coul dn’t s pea k, you coul dn’t communi ca te, you coul dn’t s a y wha t. Ji m ha d l owered hi s Ra mpa rts . He wa s s i ng i n a no cea bl e fa s hi on, i nha l i ng. He wa s goi ng to get wi th rea l i ty the ri ght wa y, l i ke a l a ma , ma n. He wa s a true bel i ever a nd hi s l i fe now centered upon the LSD/a experi ence a s a rel i gi ous mys c’s upon hi s mys ca l di s ci pl i ne. Coul d you keep i t up once a week for yea rs , though? At thi rty? At forty-two? At s i xty-three? There i s a terri bl e monotony a nd a dvers i ty to l i fe; you’d need a mona s tery. Ma ns , nones , ves pers , s i l ence, wa l l s a round, bi g s ol i d bri ck wa l l s . To keep the l ower rea l i ty out. Come on, ha l l uci nogen, get wi th i t. Ha l l uci nogena te, ha l l uci nogeni ze. Sma s h the gl a s s wa l l . Ta ke me on a tri p where my wi fe went. Mi s s i ng pers on, a ge 22, ht 5'3", wt 105 l bs , ha i r brown, ra ce huma n, s ex fema l e. She never wa s a fa s t wa l ker. I coul d ca tch up wi th her wi th one foot ti ed behi nd me. Ta ke me where s he wa l ked to.... No. I’l l wa l k there by mys el f, s a i d Lewi s Si dney Da vi d. He fini s hed pouri ng the wa ter i n l i l e dri bbl es a round the roots of the ol i ve tree, a nd l ooked up, out the wi ndow. There through s mea ry gl a s s wa s Mount Hood, forty mi l es a wa y, two mi l es hi gh, a vol ca ni c cone pos s es s i ng the s erene s ymmetry pecul i a r to vol ca ni c cones , dorma nt but not offici a l l y ex nct, ful l of s l eepy fires a nd s urrounded by i ts own a tmos phere a nd cl i ma te di fferent from tha t of l ower a l ti tudes : s now a nd a cl ea r l i ght. Tha t wa s why he l i ved i n thi s dump. Beca us e when you l ooked out the wi ndow of i t, you s a w the hi gher rea l i ty. El even thous a nd feet hi gher. “I’l l be da mned,” Lewi s s a i d a l oud, feel i ng tha t he wa s on the edge a nd verge of percei vi ng s omethi ng rea l l y i mporta nt. But he ha d tha t feel i ng fa i rl y often, wi thout chemi ca l a s s i s ta nce. Mea nwhi l e there wa s the mounta i n. 42

A l ot of muck, freewa ys a nd di s pos a bl e office bui l di ngs a nd hi ghri s es a nd urba n renewa l bombs i tes a nd neon el epha nts wa s hi ng neon ca rs wi th do ed s howers of neon, l a y i n between hi m a nd the mounta i n, a nd the ba s e of i t wa s hi dden a l ong wi th i ts foothi l l s i n a pa l e s mog, s o tha t the pea k fl oa ted. Lewi s fel t a s trong i mpul s e to cry a nd to s a y hi s wi fe’s na me a l oud. He repres s ed thi s i mpul s e, a s he ha d been doi ng for three months , ever s i nce Ma y when he ha d ta ken her to the s a ni ta ri um, a er the s i l ent months . In Ja nua ry, before the s i l ence bega n, s he ha d cri ed a grea t dea l , a l l da y l ong s ome da ys , a nd he ha d become fri ghtened of tea rs . Fi rs t tea rs , then s i l ence. No good. O God get me out of thi s ! Lewi s l et go, qui t figh ng the i mpa l pa bl e enemy, a nd begged for rel ea s e. He i mpl ored the drug i n hi s bl oods trea m to work, to do s omethi ng, to l et hi m cry, or s ee col ors , or go off hi s rocker, a nythi ng. Nothi ng ha ppened. He fini s hed pouri ng the wa ter i n l i l e dri bbl es a round the roots of the ol i ve tree, a nd l ooked up, a t the room. It wa s a dump, but bi g, a nd i t ha d a good vi ew of Mount Hood, a nd the wi s dom-tooth cres t of Mount Ada ms on cl ea r da ys too. But nothi ng woul d ha ppen here. Thi s wa s the wa i ti ng room. He pi cked up hi s coa t off a broken cha i r a nd went out. It wa s a good coa t, l a mbs wool l i ni ng a nd a hood a nd a l l tha t; hi s s i s ter a nd mother ha d cl ubbed to get i t for hi m for Chri s tma s , ma ki ng hi m feel l i ke R . R . Ra s kol ni kov. But he wa s not goi ng to murder a ny ol d pa wn-brokers toda y. Not even a ps eudoci de. On the s ta i rs he pa s s ed the pa i nters a nd pl a s terers wi th thei r l a dders a nd buckets , three of them, goi ng up to do hi s room over, pea ceful -l ooki ng, fres h-fa ced men i n thei r for es a nd fi i es . Poor ba s ta rds , wha t woul d they do wi th the s i nk? wi th the three a l phi es , Ri ch a nd Ji m a nd Al ex, who on honeydew ha d fed a nd drunk the mi l k of Pa ra di s e? wi th hi s notes on Le Notre, Ol ms ted a nd McLa ren, wi th hi s fourteen pounds of photogra phs of Ja pa nes e domes c a rchi tecture, wi th hi s dra wi ng boa rd a nd fis hi ng ta ckl e, hi s Col l ected Works of Theodore Sturgeon bound i n s ens a ona l ca rdboa rd, the 8' x 10' unfini s hed oi l of a n a ta xi c nude by a pa i nter fri end whos e a uto l oa n co. ha d a a ched hi s pa i n ngs , Al ex’s gui ta r, the ol i ve tree, the dus t a nd eyeba l l s under the bed? Tha t wa s thei r probl em. He went on down the roomi ng-hous e s ta i rs tha t s mel l ed of ol d tomca t, a nd hea rd hi s hi ki ng boots cl ompi ng hea rti l y. He fel t tha t a l l thi s ha d ha ppened once before. It took hi m a l ong me to get out of the ci ty. Si nce publ i c tra ns porta on wa s forbi dden to peopl e i n hi s condi on, of cours e, he coul dn’t get on the Gres ha m bus whi ch woul d ha ve s a ved a l ot of me, ta ki ng hi m through the s uburbs a nd ha l fwa y there. But there wa s pl enty of me. The s ummer eveni ng woul d s ta y l i ght; he coul d count on i t. Leni ent a nd s weet i n thei r l ength a re the twi l i ghts of a l a tude ha l fwa y between equa tor a nd pol e: no tropi c monotoni es , no a rc c a bs ol utes , but a wi nter of l ong s ha dows a nd a s ummer of l ong dus ks : gra da ons a nd a ccommoda ons of bri ghtnes s , a enua ons of cl a ri ty, s ubtl e es a nd l ei s ures of the l i ght. Chi l dren s cu ered i n the green pa rks of Portl a nd a nd down l ong s i de s treets , a l l a t one grea t ga me over a l l the ci ty, the ga me of Young. Onl y here a nd there a ki d went a l one, pl a yi ng Sol i tude, for hi gher s ta kes . Some ki ds a re ga mbl ers born. Bi ts of tra s h s cra ped a l ong the gu ers moved by a wa rm wi nd now a nd then. There wa s a grea t, s a d s ound fa r off over the ci ty a s i f l i ons were roa ri ng i n ca ges , wa l ki ng a nd l a s hi ng thei r gol d s i des wi th gol d-ta s s el l ed ta i l s a nd roa ri ng, roa ri ng. Sun s et, s omewhere wes t over roofs , but not for the mounta i n tha t s l l burned wi th a whi te fire a wa y up hi gh. As Lewi s l e the l a s t of the ci ty a nd went through a pl ea s a nt l a nd, hi l l y a nd wel l fa rmed, the wi nd bega n to s mel l of wet ea rth, cool , compl ex, a s i t wi l l a s ni ght comes on; a nd pa s t Sa ndy there wa s da rknes s under grea t i ncrea s i ng fores ts on the ri s i ng s l opes . But there wa s pl enty of me. Above a nd a hea d the pea k s tood whi te, fa i ntl y nged wi th a pri cot, i n s unl i ght. As he cl i mbed the l ong, s teep roa d he ca me out a ga i n a nd then a ga i n from the da rk fores ts i nto gul fs of yel l ow cl a ri ty. He went on un l he wa s up a bove the fores ts a nd up a bove the da rknes s , on hei ghts where there wa s onl y s now a nd s tone a nd a i r a nd the va s t, cl ea r, enduri ng l i ght. But he wa s a l one. Tha t wa s n’t ri ght. He ha dn’t been a l one when thi s ha d ha ppened. He ha d to meet wi th— He ha d been wi th— Where? No s ki s no s l ed no s nows hoes not even a n i nner tube. If I ha d got the commi s s i on for thi s l a nds ca pe, God, I woul d ha ve put a pa th a l ong here. Sa cri fici ng gra ndeur for conveni ence? But onl y a l i l e pa th. No ha rm. Onl y a l i l e cra ck i n the Li berty Bel l . Onl y a l i l e l ea k i n the di ke, fus e on the bomb, ma ggot i n the bra i n. O my ma d gi rl , my s i l ent l ove, my wi fe whom I s ol d i nto bedl a m beca us e you woul d not hea r me s pea k, Is obel , come s a ve me from yours el f! I’ve cl i mbed a er you up a bove a l l the pa ths a nd now I s ta nd here a l one: there i s n’t a ny wa y to go. Da yl i ght di ed a wa y a nd the whi te of the s now went s omber. In the ea s t, a bove endl es s da rkeni ng ra nges a nd fores ts a nd pa l e, hi l l -enfol ded l a kes , Sa turn s hone, bri ght a nd s a turni ne. Lewi s di d not know where the l odge wa s ; s omewhere on the mberl i ne, but he wa s a bove mberl i ne. He woul d not go down. To the hei ghts , to the hei ghts . Excel s i or! A youth who bore mi d s now a nd i ce a ba nner wi th thi s s tra nge devi ce Hel p Hel p I AM a Pri s oner of the Hi gher Rea l i ty. He cl i mbed. He cl i mbed uncl omben s l opes , unkempt, a nd a s he cl i mbed he wept. Hi s tea rs cra wl ed down over hi s fa ce a nd he cra wl ed up over the mounta i n’s fa ce. The very hi gh pl a ces a re terri bl e, a l one a t dus k. The l i ght no l onger s ta yed for hi m. There wa s no l onger pl enty of me. He ha d run out of me. Sta rs ca me out a nd l ooked a t hi m eye to eye out of the gul fs of da rknes s whenever he gl a nced a s i de from the huge whi te up l ted pl a i n, the hi gher pl a ne he cl i mbed. On ei ther s i de of hi m there wa s a ga p, wi th a few s ta rs i n i t. But the s now kept i ts own col d l i ght, a nd he kept cl i mbi ng. He remembered the pa th when he ca me a cros s i t. God or the s ta te or he hi ms el f ha d put a pa th there on the mounta i n a er a l l . He turned ri ght, a nd i t wa s wrong. He turned l e , a nd s tood s l l . He di d not know whi ch wa y to go, a nd s ha ki ng wi th col d a nd fea r he cri ed out a l oud to the dea th-whi te s ummi t a bove hi m a nd to the bl a ck pl a ces i n between the s ta rs hi s wi fe’s na me, “Is obel !” She ca me a l ong the pa th out of the da rknes s . “I bega n to get worri ed a bout you, Lewi s .” “I went fa rther tha n I mea nt to,” Lewi s s a i d. “It s ta ys l i ght s o l ong up here you s ort of thi nk i t’l l 43

go on forever....” “Ri ght. I’m s orry I worri ed you.” “Oh, I wa s n’t worri ed. You know. Lones ome. I thought ma ybe your l eg ha d s l owed you down. Is i t a good hi ke?” “Specta cul a r.” "Ta ke me a l ong tomorrow.” “Di dn’t you enjoy s ki i ng?” She s hook her hea d. “Not wi thout you,” s he mu ered, s ha mefa ced. They went l e wa rd down the pa th, not very fa s t. Lewi s wa s s l l s l i ghtl y hobbl ed by the pul l ed mus cl e tha t ha d kept hi m off s ki s the l a s t two da ys , a nd i t wa s da rk, a nd there wa s n’t a ny hurry. They hel d ha nds . Snow, s ta rl i ght, s l l nes s . Fi re underfoot, da rknes s a round; a hea d of them, firel i ght, beer, bed. Al l thi ngs i n thei r due ti me. Some, born ga mbl ers , wi l l a l wa ys choos e to l i ve on the s i de of a vol ca no. “When I wa s i n the s a ni ta ri um,” Is obel s a i d, pa us i ng s o tha t he too s topped a nd there wa s no l onger even the noi s e of thei r boots on the dry s now, no s ound a t a l l but the s o s ound of her voi ce, “I ha d a drea m l i ke thi s . Awful l y l i ke thi s . It wa s the... mos t i mporta nt drea m I ha d. Yet I ca n’t reca l l i t cl ea rl y—I never coul d, even i n thera py. But i t wa s l i ke thi s . Thi s s i l ence. Bei ng up hi gh. The s i l ence a bove a l l ... a bove a l l . It wa s s o s i l ent tha t i f I s a i d s omethi ng, you woul d be a bl e to hea r i t. I knew tha t. I wa s s ure of i t. And i n the drea m I thi nk I s a i d your na me, a nd you coul d hea r me—you a ns wered me—” “Sa y my na me,” he whi s pered. She turned a nd l ooked a t hi m. There wa s no s ound on the mounta i n or a mong the s ta rs . She s a i d hi s na me. He a ns wered s a yi ng hers , a nd then took hol d of her; both of them were s ha ki ng. “It’s col d, i t’s col d, we’ve got to go down.” They went on, on thei r ti ghtrope between the outer a nd the i nner fi res . “Look a t tha t enormous s ta r.” “Pl a net. Sa turn—Fa ther Ti me.” “Ate hi s chi l dren, di dn’t he,” s he murmured, hol di ng ha rd to hi s a rm. “Al l but one of them,” Lewi s a ns wered. Down a l ong cl ea r s l ope before them now they s a w i n grey s ta rl i ght the bul k of the upper hut, the towers of the s ki -l i ft va gue a nd ga unt, a nd the va s t downs weep of the l i nes . Hi s ha nds were col d a nd he s l i pped off hi s gl oves a mi nute to bea t them together, but thi s wa s ha rd to do beca us e of the gl a s s of wa ter he wa s hol di ng. He fini s hed pouri ng the wa ter i n l i l e dri bbl es a round the roots of the ol i ve tree a nd s et down the gl a s s bes i de the mended flowerpot. But s omethi ng s l l rema i ned i n hi s ha nd, fol ded i nto the pa l m l i ke a cri b for a hi gh-s chool French fina l , que je fus s e, que tu fus s es , qu’i l fut, s ma l l a nd s wea t-s tuck. He opened hi s ha nd a nd s tudi ed the i tem for s ome whi l e. A mes s a ge. From whom, to whom? From gra ve, to womb. A l i ttl e pa cket, s ea l ed, conta i ni ng 100 mg of LSD/a i n s uga r. Sea l ed? He remembered, wi th preci s i on a nd i n order, openi ng i t, s wa l l owi ng the s tuff, the ta s te of i t. He a l s o remembered wi th equa l order a nd preci s i on where he ha d been s i nce then a nd knew tha t he ha d not been there yet. He went over to Ji m who wa s jus t exha l i ng the brea th he ha d been i nha l i ng a s Lewi s bega n to wa ter the ol i ve tree. De l y a nd gentl y Lewi s tucked the pa cket i nto Ji m’s coa t pocket. “Aren’t you comi ng a l ong?” Ji m a s ked, s mi l i ng a mi l d s mi l e. Lewi s s hook hi s hea d. “Chi cken,” he murmured. It wa s ha rd to expl a i n tha t he ha d a l rea dy come ba ck from the tri p he ha d not ma de. Bes i des , Ji m woul dn’t hea r hi m. He wa s off where peopl e don’t hea r a nd ca n’t a ns wer, wa l l ed i n. “Ha ve a good tri p,” Lewi s s a i d. He got hi s ra i ncoa t (di rty popl i n, no fleece l i ni ng, hol d on, wa i t) a nd went down the s ta i rs a nd out i nto the s treets . The s ummer wa s endi ng, the s ea s on cha ngi ng. It wa s ra i ni ng but not da rk yet, a nd the ci ty wi nd bl ew i n grea t cool gus ts tha t s mel l ed of wet ea rth a nd fores ts a nd the ni ght. NINE LIVES

The bi ol ogi s t Gordon Ra ra y Ta yl or i s i nnocentl y res pons i bl e for thi s s tory. He ha s a cha pter on cl oni ng i n hi s fine book The Bi ol ogi ca l Ti me Bomb. I rea d tha t, a nd then I wrote thi s . It i s a s nea r “ha rd-core” or wi ri ng-di a gra m s ci ence fi cti on a s I ever get; tha t i s , i t's a worki ng out of a theme di rectl y extra pol a ted from contempora ry work i n one of the qua n ta ve s ci ences —a wha t-i f s tory. The theme, however, i s devel oped qua l i ta vel y, ps ychol ogi ca l l y. Es s en a l l y I a m us i ng the s ci en fic el ement, not a s a n end i n i ts el f, but a s a meta phor or s ymbol , a mea ns of s a yi ng s omethi ng not otherwi s e expres s i bl e. 44

“Ni ne Li ves ” a ppea red i n Pl a yboy i n 1968, under the onl y pen na me I ha ve ever us ed: U. K. Le Gui n. The edi tors pol i tel y a s ked i f they coul d us e the firs t i ni a l onl y, a nd I a greed. It's not s urpri s i ng tha t Pl a yboy ha dn’t ha d i ts cons ci ous nes s ra i s ed ba ck then, but i t i s s urpri s i ng to me to rea l i ze how thoughtl es s l y I went a l ong wi th them. It wa s the firs t (a nd i s the onl y) me I met wi th a nythi ng I unders tood a s s exua l prejudi ce, prejudi ce a ga i ns t me a s a woma n wri ter, from a ny edi tor or publ i s her; a nd i t s eemed s o s i l l y, s o grotes que, tha t I fa i l ed to s ee tha t i t wa s a l s o i mporta nt. Pl a yboy ma de a good ma ny mi nor cha nges i n the s tory, a nd thes e ha ve been kept i n repri n ngs of i t under thei r i mpri nt. I prefer my vers i on of i t, a nd whenever I ha ve ha d control of repri n ngs i t ha s a ppea red i n the vers i on gi ven here, a nd under my una bri dged na me. She wa s a l i ve i ns i de but dea d outs i de, her fa ce a bl a ck a nd dun net of wri nkl es , tumors , cra cks . She wa s ba l d a nd bl i nd. The tremors tha t cros s ed Li bra ’s fa ce were mere qui veri ngs of corrup on. Undernea th, i n the bl a ck corri dors , the ha l l s benea th the s ki n, there were crepi ta ons i n da rknes s , ferments , chemi ca l ni ghtma res tha t went on for centuri es . “O the da mned fla tul ent pl a net,” Pugh murmured a s the dome s hook a nd a boi l burs t a ki l ometer to the s outhwes t s pra yi ng s i l ver pus a cros s the s uns et. The s un ha d been s etti ng for the l a s t two da ys . “I’l l be gl a d to s ee a huma n fa ce.” “Tha nks ,” s a i d Ma rti n. “Yours i s huma n to be s ure,” s a i d Pugh, “but I’ve s een i t s o l ong I ca n’t s ee i t.” Ra dvi d s i gna l s cl u ered the communi ca tor whi ch Ma r n wa s opera ng, fa ded, returned a s fa ce a nd voi ce. The fa ce fil l ed the s creen, the nos e of a n As s yri a n ki ng, the eyes of a s a mura i , s ki n bronze, eyes the col or of i ron: young, ma gni ficent. “Is tha t wha t huma n bei ngs l ook l i ke?” s a i d Pugh wi th a we. “I’d forgotten.” “Shut up, Owen, we’re on.” “Li bra Expl ora tory Mi s s i on Ba s e, come i n pl ea s e, thi s i s Pa s s eri ne l a unch.” “Li bra here. Bea m fi xed. Come on down, l a unch.” “Expul s i on i n s even E-s econds . Hol d on.” The s creen bl a nked a nd s pa rkl ed. “Do they a l l l ook l i ke tha t? Ma rti n, you a nd I a re ugl i er men tha n I thought.” “Shut up, Owen..." For twenty-two mi nutes Ma r n fol l owed the l a ndi ng cra down by s i gna l a nd then through the cl ea red dome they s a w i t, s ma l l s ta r i n the bl ood-col ored ea s t, s i nki ng. It ca me down nea t a nd qui et, Li bra ’s thi n a tmos phere ca rryi ng l i l e s ound. Pugh a nd Ma r n cl os ed the hea dpi eces of thei r i ms ui ts , zi pped out of the dome a i rl ocks , a nd ra n wi th s oa ri ng s tri des , Ni ji ns ky a nd Nureyev, towa rd the boa t. Three equi pment modul es ca me fl oa t i ng down a t four-mi nute i nterva l s from ea ch other a nd hundred-meter i nterva l s ea s t of the boa t. “Come on out,” Ma r n s a i d on hi s s ui t ra di o, “we’re wa i ti ng a t the door.” “Come on i n, the metha ne’s fi ne,” s a i d Pugh. The ha tch opened. The young ma n they ha d s een on the s creen ca me out wi th one a thl e c twi s t a nd l ea ped down onto the s ha ky dus t a nd cl i nkers of Li bra . Ma r n s hook hi s ha nd, but Pugh wa s s ta ri ng a t the ha tch, from whi ch a nother young ma n emerged wi th the s a me nea t twi s t a nd jump, fol l owed by a young woma n who emerged wi th the s a me nea t twi s t, orna mented by a wri ggl e, a nd the jump. They were a l l ta l l , wi th bronze s ki n, bl a ck ha i r, hi gh-bri dged nos es , epi ca nthi c fol d, the s a me fa ce. They a l l ha d the s a me fa ce. The fourth wa s emergi ng from the ha tch wi th a nea t twi s t a nd jump. “Ma r n ba ch,” s a i d Pugh, “we’ve got a cl one.” “Ri ght,” s a i d one of them, “we’re a tencl one. John Chow’s the na me. You’re Li eutena nt Ma rti n?” “I’m Owen Pugh.” “Al va ro Gui l l en Ma r n,” s a i d Ma r n, forma l , bowi ng s l i ghtl y. Another gi rl wa s out, the s a me bea u ful fa ce; Ma r n s ta red a t her a nd hi s eye rol l ed l i ke a nervous pony’s . Evi dentl y he ha d never gi ven a ny thought to cl oni ng a nd wa s s ufferi ng technol ogi ca l s hock. “Stea dy,” Pugh s a i d i n the Argen ne di a l ect, “i t’s onl y exces s twi ns .” He s tood cl os e by Ma r n’s el bow. He wa s gl a d hi ms el f of the conta ct. It i s ha rd to meet a s tra nger. Even the grea tes t extra vert mee ng even the meekes t s tra nger knows a certa i n drea d, though he ma y not know he knows i t. Wi l l he ma ke a fool of me wreck my i ma ge of mys el f i nva de me des troy me cha nge me? Wi l l he be di fferent from me? Yes , tha t he wi l l . There’s the terri bl e thi ng: the s tra ngenes s of the s tra nger. A er two yea rs on a dea d pl a net, a nd the l a s t ha l f yea r i s ol a ted a s a tea m of two, ones el f a nd one other, a er tha t i t’s even ha rder to meet a s tra nger, however wel come he ma y be. You’re out of the ha bi t of di fference, you’ve l os t the touch; a nd s o the fea r revi ves , the pri mi ti ve a nxi ety, the ol d drea d. The cl one, five ma l es a nd five fema l es , ha d got done i n a coupl e of mi nutes wha t a ma n mi ght ha ve got done i n twenty: greeted Pugh a nd Ma r n, ha d a gl a nce a t Li bra , unl oa ded the boa t, ma de rea dy to go. They went, a nd the dome fil l ed wi th them, a hi ve of gol den bees . They hummed a nd buzzed qui etl y, fil l ed up a l l s i l ences , a l l s pa ces wi th a honey-brown s wa rm of huma n pres ence. Ma r n l ooked bewi l dered a t the l ong-l i mbed gi rl s , a nd they s mi l ed a t hi m, three a t once. Thei r s mi l e wa s gentl er tha n tha t of the boys , but no l es s ra di a ntl y s el f-pos s es s ed. “Sel f-pos s es s ed,” Owen Pugh murmured to hi s fri end, “tha t’s i t. Thi nk of i t, to be ones el f ten mes over. Ni ne s econds for every mo on, ni ne a yes on every vote. It woul d be gl ori ous .” But Ma r n wa s a s l eep. And the John Chows ha d a l l gone to s l eep a t once. The dome wa s fil l ed wi th thei r qui et brea thi ng. They were young, they di dn’t s nore. Ma r n s i ghed a nd s nored, hi s 45

Hers hey-ba r-col ored fa ce rel a xed i n the di m a ergl ow of Li bra ’s pri ma ry, s et a t l a s t. Pugh ha d cl ea red the dome a nd s ta rs l ooked i n, Sol a mong them, a grea t compa ny of l i ghts , a cl one of s pl endors . Pugh s l ept a nd drea med of a one-eyed gi a nt who cha s ed hi m through the s ha ki ng ha l l s of Hel l . From hi s s l eepi ng ba g Pugh wa tched the cl one’s a wa keni ng. They a l l got up wi thi n one mi nute except for one pa i r, a boy a nd a gi rl , who l a y s nugl y ta ngl ed a nd s l l s l eepi ng i n one ba g. As Pugh s a w thi s there wa s a s hock l i ke one of Li bra ’s ea rthqua kes i ns i de hi m, a very deep tremor. He wa s not a wa re of thi s a nd i n fa ct thought he wa s pl ea s ed a t the s i ght; there wa s no other s uch comfort on thi s dea d hol l ow worl d. More power to them, who ma de l ove. One of the others s tepped on the pa i r. They woke a nd the gi rl s a t up flus hed a nd s l eepy, wi th ba re gol den brea s ts . One of her s i s ters murmured s omethi ng to her; s he s hot a gl a nce a t Pugh a nd di s a ppea red i n the s l eepi ng ba g; from a nother di rec on ca me a fierce s ta re, from s l l a nother di rec on a voi ce: “Chri s t, we’re us ed to ha vi ng a room to ours el ves . Hope you don’t mi nd, Ca pta i n Pugh.” “It’s a pl ea s ure,” Pugh s a i d ha l f truthful l y. He ha d to s ta nd up then wea ri ng onl y the s horts he s l ept i n, a nd he fel t l i ke a pl ucked roos ter, a l l whi te s cra wn a nd pi mpl es . He ha d s el dom envi ed Ma r n’s compa ct brownnes s s o much. The Uni ted Ki ngdom ha d come through the Grea t Fa mi nes wel l , l os i ng l es s tha n ha l f i ts popul a on: a record a chi eved by ri gorous food control . Bl a ck ma rketeers a nd hoa rders ha d been executed. Crumbs ha d been s ha red. Where i n ri cher l a nds mos t ha d di ed a nd a few ha d thri ven, i n Bri ta i n fewer di ed a nd none throve. They a l l got l ea n. Thei r s ons were l ea n, thei r gra nds ons l ea n, s ma l l , bri l e-boned, ea s i l y i nfected. When ci vi l i za on beca me a ma er of s ta ndi ng i n l i nes , the Bri s h ha d kept queue, a nd s o ha d repl a ced the s urvi va l of the fi es t wi th the s urvi va l of the fa i r-mi nded. Owen Pugh wa s a s cra wny l i l e ma n. Al l the s a me, he wa s there. At the moment he wi s hed he wa s n’t. At brea kfa s t a John s a i d, “Now i f you’l l bri ef us , Ca pta i n Pugh—” “Owen, then.” “Owen, we ca n work out our s chedul e. Anythi ng new on the mi ne s i nce your l a s t report to your Mi s s i on? We s a w your reports when Pa s s eri ne wa s orbi ti ng Pl a net V, where they a re now.” Ma r n di d not a ns wer, though the mi ne wa s hi s di s covery a nd project, a nd Pugh ha d to do hi s bes t. It wa s ha rd to ta l k to them. The s a me fa ces , ea ch wi th the s a me expres s i on of i ntel l i gent i nteres t, a l l l ea ned towa rd hi m a cros s the ta bl e a t a l mos t the s a me a ngl e. They a l l nodded together. Over the Expl oi ta ti on Corps i ns i gne on thei r tuni cs ea ch ha d a na meba nd, fi rs t na me John a nd l a s t na me Chow of cours e, but the mi ddl e na mes di fferent. The men were Al eph, Ka ph, Yod, Gi mel , a nd Sa medh; the women Sa dhe, Da l eth, Za yi n, Beth, a nd Res h. Pugh tri ed to us e the na mes but ga ve i t up a t once; he coul d not even tel l s ome mes whi ch one ha d s poken, for a l l the voi ces were a l i ke. Ma rti n buttered a nd chewed hi s toa s t, a nd fi na l l y i nterrupted: “You’re a tea m. Is tha t i t?” “Ri ght,” s a i d two Johns . “God, wha t a tea m! I ha dn’t s een the poi nt. How much do you ea ch know wha t the others a re thi nki ng?" “Not a t a l l , properl y s pea ki ng,” repl i ed one of the gi rl s , Za yi n. The others wa tched her wi th the propri eta ry, a pprovi ng l ook they ha d. “No ESP, nothi ng fa ncy. But we thi nk a l i ke. We ha ve exa ctl y the s a me equi pment. Gi ven the s a me s mul us , the s a me probl ems , we’re l i kel y to be comi ng up wi th the s a me rea c ons a nd s ol u ons a t the s a me me. Expl a na ons a re ea s y— don’t even ha ve to ma ke them, us ua l l y. We s el dom mi s unders ta nd ea ch other. It does fa ci l i ta te our worki ng a s a tea m.” “Chri s t yes ,” s a i d Ma r n. “Pugh a nd I ha ve s pent s even hours out of ten for s i x months mi s unders ta ndi ng ea ch other. Li ke mos t peopl e. Wha t a bout emergenci es , a re you a s good a t meeti ng the unexpected probl em a s a nor... a n unrel a ted tea m?” “Sta s cs s o fa r i ndi ca te tha t we a re,” Za yi n a ns wered rea di l y. Cl ones mus t be tra i ned, Pugh thought, to meet ques ons , to rea s s ure a nd rea s on. Al l they s a i d ha d the s l i ghtl y bl a nd a nd s l ted qua l i ty of a ns wers furni s hed to the Publ i c. “We ca n’t bra i ns torm a s s i ngl etons ca n, we a s a tea m don’t profit from the i nterpl a y of va ri ed mi nds ; but we ha ve a compens a tory a dva nta ge. Cl ones a re dra wn from the bes t huma n ma teri a l , i ndi vi dua l s of IIQ ni nety-ni nth percen l e, Gene c Cons tu on a l pha doubl e A, a nd s o on. We ha ve more to dra w on tha n mos t i ndi vi dua l s do.” “And i t’s mul ti pl i ed by a fa ctor of ten. Who i s —who wa s John Chow?” “A geni us s urel y,” Pugh s a i d pol i tel y. Hi s i nteres t i n cl oni ng wa s not s o new a nd a vi d a s Ma rti n’s . “Leona rdo Compl ex type,” s a i d Yod. “Bi oma th, a l s o a cel l i s t a nd a n unders ea hunter, a nd i nteres ted i n s tructura l engi neeri ng probl ems a nd s o on. Di ed before he’d worked out hi s ma jor theori es .” “Then you ea ch repres ent a di fferent fa cet of hi s mi nd, hi s ta l ents ?” “No,” s a i d Za yi n, s ha ki ng her hea d i n me wi th s evera l others . “We s ha re the ba s i c equi pment a nd tendenci es , of cours e, but we’re a l l engi neers i n Pl a neta ry Expl oi ta on. A l a ter cl one ca n be tra i ned to devel op other a s pects of the ba s i c equi pment. It’s a l l tra i ni ng; the geneti c s ubs ta nce i s i denti ca l . We a re John Chow. But we a re di fferentl y tra i ned.” Ma rti n l ooked s hel l -s hocked. “How ol d a re you?" “Twenty-three.” “You s a y he di ed young—ha d they ta ken germ cel l s from hi m beforeha nd or s omethi ng?” Gi mel took over: “He di ed a t twenty-four i n a n a i r ca r cra s h. They coul dn’t s a ve the bra i n, s o they took s ome i ntes na l cel l s a nd cul tured them for cl oni ng. Reproduc ve cel l s a ren’t us ed for cl oni ng, s i nce they ha ve onl y ha l f the chromos omes . Intes na l cel l s 46

ha ppen to be ea s y to des peci a l i ze a nd reprogra m for tota l growth.” “Al l chi ps off the ol d bl ock,” Ma rti n s a i d va l i a ntl y. “But how ca n... s ome of you be women...?” Beth took over: “It’s ea s y to progra m ha l f the cl ona l ma s s ba ck to the fema l e. Jus t del ete the ma l e gene from ha l f the cel l s a nd they revert to the ba s i c, tha t i s , the fema l e. It’s tri cki er to go the other wa y, ha ve to hook i n a r fici a l Y chromos omes . So they mos tl y cl one from ma l es , s i nce cl ones functi on bes t bi s exua l l y.” Gi mel a ga i n: “ They’ve worked thes e ma ers of techni que a nd func on out ca reful l y. The ta xpa yer wa nts the bes t for hi s money, a nd of cours e cl ones a re expens i ve. Wi th the cel l ma ni pul a ons , a nd the i ncuba on i n Nga ma Pl a centa e, a nd the ma i ntena nce a nd tra i ni ng of the fos ter-pa rent groups , we end up cos ti ng a bout three mi l l i on a pi ece.” “For your next genera ti on,” Ma rti n s a i d, s ti l l s truggl i ng, “I s uppos e you... you breed?” “We fema l es a re s teri l e,” s a i d Beth wi th perfect equa ni mi ty. “You remember tha t the Y chromos ome wa s del eted from our ori gi na l cel l . The ma l es ca n i nterbreed wi th a pproved s i ngl etons , i f they wa nt to. But to get John Chow a ga i n a s o en a s they wa nt, they jus t recl one a cel l from thi s cl one.” Ma rti n ga ve up the s truggl e. He nodded a nd chewed col d toa s t. “Wel l ,” s a i d one of the Johns , a nd a l l cha nged mood, l i ke a fl ock of s ta rl i ngs tha t cha nge cours e i n one wi ngfli ck, fol l owi ng a l ea der s o fa s t tha t no eye ca n s ee whi ch l ea ds . They were rea dy to go. “How a bout a l ook a t the mi ne? Then we’l l unl oa d the equi pment. Some ni ce new model s i n the roboa ts ; you’l l wa nt to s ee them. Ri ght?” Ha d Pugh or Ma rti n not a greed they mi ght ha ve found i t ha rd to s a y s o. The Johns were pol i te but una ni mous ; thei r deci s i ons ca rri ed. Pugh, Comma nder of Li bra Ba s e 2, fel t a qua l m. Coul d he bos s a round thi s s uperma n/woma n-en ty-of-ten? a nd a geni us a t tha t? He s tuck cl os e to Ma rti n a s they s ui ted for outs i de. Nei ther s a i d a nythi ng. Four a pi ece i n the three l a rge a i rjets , they s l i pped off north from the dome, over Li bra ’s dun rugos e s ki n, i n s ta rl i ght. “Des ol a te,” one s a i d. It wa s a boy a nd gi rl wi th Pugh a nd Ma r n. Pugh wondered i f thes e were the two tha t ha d s ha red a s l eepi ng ba g l a s t ni ght. No doubt they woul dn’t mi nd i f he a s ked them. Sex mus t be a s ha ndy a s brea thi ng to them. Di d you two brea the l a s t ni ght? “Yes ,” he s a i d, “i t i s des ol a te.” “Thi s i s our fi rs t ti me off, except tra i ni ng on Luna .” The gi rl ’s voi ce wa s defi ni tel y a bi t hi gher a nd s ofter. “How di d you ta ke the bi g hop?” “ They doped us . I wa nted to experi ence i t.” Tha t wa s the boy; he s ounded wi s ul . They s eemed to ha ve more pers ona l i ty, onl y two a t a ti me. Di d repeti ti on of the i ndi vi dua l nega te i ndi vi dua l i ty? “Don’t worry,” s a i d Ma rti n, s teeri ng the s l ed, “you ca n’t experi ence no-ti me beca us e i t i s n’t there.” “I’d jus t l i ke to once,” one of them s a i d. “So we’d know.” The Mounta i ns of Meri oneth s howed l epro c i n s ta rl i ght to the ea s t, a pl ume of freezi ng ga s tra i l ed s i l very from a vent-hol e to the wes t, a nd the s l ed l ted groundwa rd. The twi ns bra ced for the s top a t one moment, ea ch wi th a s l i ght protec ve ges ture to the other. Your s ki n i s my s ki n, Pugh thought, but l i tera l l y, no meta phor. Wha t woul d i t be l i ke, then, to ha ve s omeone a s cl os e to you a s tha t? Al wa ys to be a ns wered when you s poke; never to be i n pa i n a l one. Love your nei ghbor a s you l ove yours el f.... Tha t ha rd ol d probl em wa s s ol ved. The nei ghbor wa s the s el f: the l ove wa s perfect. And here wa s Hel l mouth, the mi ne. Pugh wa s the Expl ora tory Mi s s i on’s E.T. geol ogi s t, a nd Ma r n hi s techni ci a n a nd ca rtogra pher; but when i n the cours e of a l oca l s urvey Ma r n ha d di s covered the U-mi ne, Pugh ha d gi ven hi m ful l credi t, a s wel l a s the bonus of pros pec ng the l ode a nd pl a nni ng the Expl oi ta on Tea m’s job. Thes e ki ds ha d been s ent out from Ea rth yea rs before Ma r n’s reports got there a nd ha d not known wha t thei r job woul d be un l they got here. The Expl oi ta on Corps s i mpl y s ent out tea ms regul a rl y a nd bl i ndl y a s a da ndel i on s ends out i ts s eed, knowi ng there woul d be a job for them on Li bra or the next pl a net out or one they ha dn’t even hea rd a bout yet. The government wa nted ura ni um too urgentl y to wa i t whi l e reports dri ed home a cros s the l i ghtyea rs . The s tuff wa s l i ke gol d, ol d-fa s hi oned but es s en a l , worth mi ni ng extra terres tri a l l y a nd s hi ppi ng i nters tel l a r. Worth i ts wei ght i n peopl e, Pugh thought s ourl y, wa tchi ng the ta l l young men a nd women go one by one, gl i mmeri ng i n s ta rl i ght, i nto the bl a ck hol e Ma rti n ha d na med Hel l mouth. As they went i n, thei r homeos ta c forehea d-l a mps bri ghtened. Twel ve noddi ng gl ea ms ra n a l ong the moi s t, wri nkl ed wa l l s . Pugh hea rd Ma r n’s ra di a on counter peepi ng twenty to the dozen up a hea d. “Here’s the drop-off,” s a i d Ma r n’s voi ce i n the s ui t i ntercom, drowni ng out the peepi ng a nd the dea d s i l ence tha t wa s a round them. “We’re i n a s i de-fis s ure, thi s i s the ma i n ver ca l vent i n front of us .” The bl a ck voi d ga ped, i ts fa r s i de not vi s i bl e i n the hea dl a mp bea ms . “La s t vul ca ni s m s eems to ha ve been a coupl e of thous a nd yea rs a go. Nea res t fa ul t i s twenty-ei ght ki l os ea s t, i n the Trench. Thi s a rea s eems to be a s s a fe s ei s mi ca l l y a s a nythi ng i n the a rea . The bi g ba s a l t-flow overhea d s ta bi l i zes a l l thes e s ubs tructures , s o l ong a s i t rema i ns s ta bl e i ts el f. Your centra l l ode i s thi rty-s i x meters down a nd runs i n a s eri es of fi ve bubbl e ca verns northea s t. It i s a l ode, a pi pe of very hi gh-gra de ore. You s a w the percenta ge figures , ri ght? Extra c on’s goi ng to be no probl em. Al l you’ve got to do i s get the bubbl es tops i de.” “ Ta ke off the l i d a nd l et ’em floa t up.” A chuckl e. Voi ces bega n to ta l k, but they were a l l the s a me voi ce a nd the s ui t ra di o ga ve them no l oca ti on i n s pa ce. “Open the thi ng ri ght up. —Sa fer tha t wa y. —But i t’s a s ol i d ba s a l t roof, how thi ck, ten meters here? —Three to twenty, the report 47

s a i d. —Bl ow good ore a l l over the l ot. —Us e thi s a cces s we’re i n, s tra i ghten i t a bi t a nd run s l i der ra i l s for the robos . —Import burros . —Ha ve we got enough proppi ng ma teri a l ? —Wha t’s your es ti ma te of tota l pa yl oa d ma s s , Ma rti n?” “Sa y over five mi l l i on ki l os a nd under ei ght.” “ Tra ns port wi l l be here i n ten E-months . —It’l l ha ve to go pure. —No, they’l l ha ve the ma s s probl em i n NAFAL s hi ppi ng l i cked by now, remember i t’s been s i xteen yea rs s i nce we l e ea rth l a s t Tues da y. —Ri ght, they’l l s end the whol e l ot ba ck a nd puri fy i t i n Ea rth orbi t. —Sha l l we go down, Ma rti n?” “Go on. I’ve been down.” The firs t one—Al eph? (Heb., the ox, the l ea der)— s wung onto the l a dder a nd down; the res t fol l owed. Pugh a nd Ma r n s tood a t the cha s m’s edge. Pugh s et hi s i ntercom to excha nge onl y wi th Ma r n’s s ui t, a nd no ced Ma r n doi ng the s a me. It wa s a bi t wea ri ng, thi s l i s teni ng to one pers on thi nk a l oud i n ten voi ces , or wa s i t one voi ce s pea ki ng the thoughts of ten mi nds ? “A grea t gut,” Pugh s a i d, l ooki ng down i nto the bl a ck pi t, i ts vei ned a nd wa rted wa l l s ca tchi ng s tra y gl ea ms of hea dl a mps fa r bel ow. “A cow’s bowel . A bl oody grea t cons ti pa ted i ntes ti ne.” Ma r n’s counter peeped l i ke a l os t chi cken. They s tood i ns i de the dea d but epi l ep c pl a net, brea thi ng oxygen from ta nks , wea ri ng s ui ts i mpermea bl e to corros i ves a nd ha rmful ra di a ons , res i s ta nt to a 200-degree ra nge of tempera tures , tea r-proof, a nd a s s hock-res i s ta nt a s pos s i bl e gi ven the s oft vul nera bl e s tuff i ns i de. “Next hop,” Ma rti n s a i d, “I’d l i ke to fi nd a pl a net tha t ha s nothi ng wha tever to expl oi t.” “You found thi s .” “Keep me home next ti me.” Pugh wa s pl ea s ed. He ha d hoped Ma r n woul d wa nt to go on worki ng wi th hi m, but nei ther of them wa s us ed to ta l ki ng much a bout thei r feel i ngs , a nd he ha d hes i ta ted to a s k. “I’l l try tha t,” he s a i d. “I ha te thi s pl a ce. I l i ke ca ves , you know. It’s why I ca me i n here. Jus t s pel unki ng. But thi s one’s a bi tch. Mea n. You ca n’t ever l et down i n here. I gues s thi s l ot ca n ha ndl e i t, though. They know thei r s tuff.” “Wa ve of the future, wha tever,” s a i d Pugh. The wa ve of the future ca me s wa rmi ng up the l a dder, s wept Ma r n to the entra nce, ga bbl ed a t a nd a round hi m: “Ha ve we got enough ma teri a l for s upports ? —If we convert one of the extra ctor s ervos to a nnea l , yes . —Suffi ci ent i f we mi ni bl a s t? —Ka ph ca n ca l cul a te s tres s .” Pugh ha d s wi tched hi s i ntercom ba ck to recei ve them; he l ooked a t them, s o ma ny thoughts ja bberi ng i n a n ea ger mi nd, a nd a t Ma r n s ta ndi ng s i l ent a mong them, a nd a t Hel l mouth a nd the wri nkl ed pl a i n. “Se l ed! How does tha t s tri ke you a s a prel i mi na ry s chedul e, Ma rti n?” “It’s your ba by,” Ma rti n s a i d. Wi thi n five E-da ys the Johns ha d a l l thei r ma teri a l a nd equi pment unl oa ded a nd opera ng a nd were s ta r ng to open up the mi ne. They worked wi th tota l effici ency. Pugh wa s fa s ci na ted a nd fri ghtened by thei r effec venes s , thei r confidence, thei r i ndependence. He wa s no us e to them a t a l l . A cl one, he thought, mi ght i ndeed be the firs t trul y s ta bl e, s el f-rel i a nt huma n bei ng. Once a dul t i t woul d need nobody’s hel p. It woul d be s uffici ent to i ts el f phys i ca l l y, s exua l l y, emo ona l l y, i ntel l ectua l l y. Wha tever he di d, a ny member of i t woul d a l wa ys recei ve the s upport a nd a pprova l of hi s peers , hi s other s el ves . Nobody el s e wa s needed. Two of the cl one s ta yed i n the dome doi ng ca l cul a ons a nd pa perwork, wi th frequent s l ed tri ps to the mi ne for mea s urements a nd tes ts . They were the ma thema ci a ns of the cl one, Za yi n a nd Ka ph. Tha t i s , a s Za yi n expl a i ned, a l l ten ha d ha d thorough ma thema ca l tra i ni ng from a ge three to twenty-one, but from twenty-one to twenty-three s he a nd Ka ph ha d gone on wi th ma th whi l e the others i ntens i fied s tudy i n other s peci a l es , geol ogy, mi ni ng, engi neeri ng, el ectroni c engi neeri ng, equi pment robo cs , a ppl i ed a tomi cs , a nd s o on. “Ka ph a nd I feel ,” s he s a i d, “tha t we’re the el ement of the cl one cl os es t to wha t John Chow wa s i n hi s s i ngl eton l i feti me. But of cours e he wa s pri nci pa l l y i n bi oma th, a nd they di dn’t ta ke us fa r i n tha t.” “They needed us mos t i n thi s fi el d,” Ka ph s a i d, wi th the pa tri oti c pri ggi s hnes s they s ometi mes evi nced. Pugh a nd Ma r n s oon coul d di s ngui s h thi s pa i r from the others , Za yi n by ges ta l t, Ka ph onl y by a di s col ored l e fourth fingerna i l , got from a n i l l -a i med ha mmer a t the a ge of s i x. No doubt there were ma ny s uch di fferences , phys i ca l a nd ps ychol ogi ca l , a mong them; na ture mi ght be i den ca l , nurture coul d not be. But the di fferences were ha rd to find. And pa rt of the di fficul ty wa s tha t they never rea l l y ta l ked to Pugh a nd Ma r n. They joked wi th them, were pol i te, got a l ong fine. They ga ve nothi ng. It wa s nothi ng one coul d compl a i n a bout; they were very pl ea s a nt, they ha d the s ta nda rdi zed Ameri ca n fri endl i nes s . “Do you come from Irel a nd, Owen?” “Nobody comes from Irel a nd, Za yi n.” “There a re l ots of Iri s h-Ameri ca ns .” “ To be s ure, but no more Iri s h. A coupl e of thous a nd i n a l l the i s l a nd, the l a s t I knew. They di dn’t go i n for bi rth control , you know, s o the food ra n out. By the Thi rd Fa mi ne there were no Iri s h l e a t a l l but the pri es thood, a nd they a l l cel i ba te, or nea rl y a l l .” Za yi n a nd Ka ph s mi l ed s ffly. They ha d no experi ence of ei ther bi gotry or i rony. “Wha t a re you then, ethni ca l l y?” Ka ph a s ked, a nd Pugh repl i ed, “A Wel s hma n.” “Is i t Wel s h tha t you a nd Ma r n s pea k together?” None of your bus i nes s , Pugh thought, but s a i d, “No, i t’s hi s di a l ect, not mi ne: 48

Argenti nea n. A des cenda nt of Spa ni s h.” “You l ea rned i t for pri va te communi ca ti on?” “Whom ha d we here to be pri va te from? It’s jus t tha t s ome mes a ma n l i kes to s pea k hi s na ve l a ngua ge.” “Ours i s Engl i s h,” Ka ph s a i d uns ympa theti ca l l y. Why s houl d they ha ve s ympa thy? Tha t’s one of the thi ngs you gi ve beca us e you need i t ba ck. “Is Wel l s qua i nt?” a s ked Za yi n. “Wel l s ? Oh, Wa l es , i t’s ca l l ed. Yes , Wa l es i s qua i nt.” Pugh s wi tched on hi s rock-cutter, whi ch prevented further convers a ti on by a s yna ps e-des troyi ng whi ne, a nd whi l e i t whi ned he turned hi s ba ck a nd s a i d a profa ne word i n Wel s h. Tha t ni ght he us ed the Argen ne di a l ect for pri va te communi ca on. “Do they pa i r off i n the s a me coupl es or cha nge every ni ght?” Ma rti n l ooked s urpri s ed. A prudi s h expres s i on, uns ui ted to hi s fea tures , a ppea red for a moment. It fa ded. He too wa s curi ous . “I thi nk i t’s ra ndom.” “Don’t whi s per, ma n, i t s ounds di rty. I thi nk they rota te.” “On a s chedul e?” “So nobody gets omi tted.” Ma rti n ga ve a vul ga r l a ugh a nd s mothered i t. “Wha t a bout us ? Aren’t we omi tted?” “Tha t does n’t occur to them.” “Wha t i f I propos i ti on one of the gi rl s ?” “She’d tel l the others a nd they’d deci de a s a group.” “I a m not a bul l ,” Ma r n s a i d, hi s da rk, hea vy fa ce hea ng up. “I wi l l not be judged—” “Down, down, ma chi s mo," s a i d Pugh. “Do you mea n to propos i ti on one?” Ma rti n s hrugged, s ul l en. “Let ’em ha ve thei r i nces t.” “Inces t i s i t, or ma s turba ti on?” “I don’t ca re, i f they’d do i t out of ea rs hot!” The cl one’s ea rl y a empts a t modes ty ha d s oon worn off, unmo va ted by a ny deep defens i venes s of s el f or a wa renes s of others . Pugh a nd Ma rti n were da i l y deeper s wa mped under the i nti ma ci es of i ts cons ta nt emoti ona l -s exua l -menta l i ntercha nge: s wa mped yet excl uded. “Two months to go,” Ma rti n s a i d one eveni ng. “To wha t?” s na pped Pugh. He wa s edgy l a tel y, a nd Ma rti n’s s ul l ennes s got on hi s nerves . “To rel i ef.” In s i xty da ys the ful l crew of the Expl ora tory Mi s s i on were due ba ck from thei r s urvey of the other pl a nets of the s ys tem. Pugh wa s a wa re of thi s . “Cros s i ng off the da ys on your ca l enda r?” he jeered. “Pul l yours el f together, Owen.” “Wha t do you mea n?” “Wha t I s a y.” They pa rted i n contempt a nd res entment. Pugh ca me i n a er a da y a l one on the Pa mpa s , a va s t l a va pl a i n the nea res t edge of whi ch wa s two hours s outh by jet. He wa s red but refres hed by s ol i tude. They were not s uppos ed to ta ke l ong tri ps a l one but l a tel y ha d o en done s o. Ma r n s tooped under bri ght l i ghts , dra wi ng one of hi s el ega nt ma s terl y cha rts . Thi s one wa s of the whol e fa ce of Li bra , the ca ncerous fa ce. The dome wa s otherwi s e empty, s eemi ng di m a nd l a rge a s i t ha d before the cl one ca me. “Where’s the gol den horde?” Ma r n grunted i gnora nce, cros s -ha tchi ng. He s tra i ghtened hi s ba ck to gl a nce round a t the s un, whi ch s qua ed feebl y l i ke a grea t red toa d on the ea s tern pl a i n, a nd a t the cl ock, whi ch s a i d 18:45. “Some bi g qua kes toda y,” he s a i d, returni ng to hi s ma p. “Feel them down there? Lots of cra tes were fa l l i ng a round. Ta ke a l ook a t the s ei s mo.” The needl e ji ggl ed a nd wa vered on the rol l . It never s topped da nci ng here. The rol l ha d recorded five qua kes of ma jor i ntens i ty ba ck i n mi da ernoon; twi ce the needl e ha d hopped off the rol l . The a a ched computer ha d been a c va ted to emi t a s l i p rea di ng, “Epi center 61' N by 42'4" E.” “Not i n the Trench thi s ti me.” “I thought i t fel t a bi t di fferent from us ua l . Sha rper.” “In Ba s e One I us ed to l i e a wa ke a l l ni ght feel i ng the ground jump. Queer how you get us ed to thi ngs .” “Go s pl a i f you di dn’t. Wha t’s for di nner?” “I thought you’d ha ve cooked i t.” 49

“Wa i ti ng for the cl one.” Feel i ng put upon, Pugh got out a dozen di nnerboxes , s tuck two i n the Ins toba ke, pul l ed them out. “Al l ri ght, here’s di nner.” “Been thi nki ng,” Ma r n s a i d, comi ng to ta bl e. “Wha t i f s ome cl one cl oned i ts el f? Il l ega l l y. Ma de a thous a nd dupl i ca tes —ten thous a nd. Whol e a rmy. They coul d ma ke a ti dy power gra b, coul dn’t they?” “But how ma ny mi l l i ons di d thi s l ot cos t to rea r? Ar fici a l pl a centa e a nd a l l tha t. It woul d be ha rd to keep s ecret, unl es s they ha d a pl a net to thems el ves .... Ba ck before the Fa mi nes when Ea rth ha d na ti ona l governments , they ta l ked a bout tha t: cl one your bes t s ol di ers , ha ve whol e regi ments of them. But the food ra n out before they coul d pl a y tha t ga me.” They ta l ked a mi ca bl y, a s they us ed to do. “Funny,” Ma rti n s a i d, chewi ng. “They l eft ea rl y thi s morni ng, di dn’t they?” “Al l but Ka ph a nd Za yi n. They thought they’d get the fi rs t pa yl oa d a bove ground toda y. Wha t’s up?” “They weren’t ba ck for l unch.” “They won’t s ta rve, to be s ure.” “They l eft a t s even.” “So they di d.” Then Pugh s a w i t. The a i r ta nks hel d ei ght hours ’ s uppl y. “Ka ph a nd Za yi n ca rri ed out s pa re ca ns when they l eft. Or they’ve got a hea p out there.” “ They di d, but they brought the whol e l ot i n to recha rge.” Ma r n s tood up, poi n ng to one of the s ta cks of s tuff tha t cut the dome i nto rooms a nd a l l eys . “There’s a n a l a rm s i gna l on every i ms ui t.” “It’s not a utoma ti c.” Pugh wa s ti red a nd s ti l l hungry. “Si t down a nd ea t, ma n. Tha t l ot ca n l ook a fter thems el ves .” Ma r n s a t down but di d not ea t. “ There wa s a bi g qua ke, Owen. The firs t one. Bi g enough i t s ca red me.” A er a pa us e Pugh s i ghed a nd s a i d, “Al l ri ght.” Unenthus i a s ca l l y, they got out the two-ma n s l ed tha t wa s a l wa ys l e for them a nd hea ded i t north. The l ong s unri s e covered everythi ng i n poi s onous red jel l o. The hori zonta l l i ght a nd s ha dow ma de i t ha rd to s ee, ra i s ed wa l l s of fa ke i ron a hea d of them whi ch they s l i d through, turned the convex pl a i n beyond Hel l mouth i nto a grea t di mpl e ful l of bl oody wa ter. Around the tunnel entra nce a wi l dernes s of ma chi nery s tood, cra nes a nd ca bl es a nd s ervos a nd wheel s a nd di ggers a nd roboca rts a nd s l i ders a nd control huts , a l l s l a n ng a nd bul ki ng i ncoherentl y i n the red l i ght. Ma r n jumped from the s l ed, ra n i nto the mi ne. He ca me out a ga i n, to Pugh. “Oh God, Owen, i t’s down,” he s a i d. Pugh went i n a nd s a w, five meters from the entra nce, the s hi ny moi s t, bl a ck wa l l tha t ended the tunnel . Newl y expos ed to a i r, i t l ooked orga ni c, l i ke vi s cera l s s ue. The tunnel entra nce, enl a rged by bl a s ng a nd doubl e-tra cked for roboca rts , s eemed uncha nged un l he no ced thous a nds of ti ny s pi derweb cra cks i n the wa l l s . The fl oor wa s wet wi th s ome s l uggi s h fl ui d. “They were i ns i de,” Ma rti n s a i d. “ They ma y be s l l . They s urel y ha d extra a i r ca ns —” “Look, Owen, l ook a t the ba s a l t flow, a t the roof, don’t you s ee wha t the qua ke di d, l ook a t i t.” The l ow hump of l a nd tha t roofed the ca ves s l l ha d the unrea l l ook of a n op ca l i l l us i on. It ha d revers ed i ts el f, s unk down, l ea vi ng a va s t di mpl e or pi t. When Pugh wa l ked on i t he s a w tha t i t too wa s cra cked wi th ma ny ny fis s ures . From s ome a whi ti s h ga s wa s s eepi ng, s o tha t the s unl i ght on the s urfa ce of the ga s pool wa s s ha fted a s i f by the wa ters of a di m red l a ke. “ The mi ne’s not on the fa ul t. There’s no fa ul t here!” Pugh ca me ba ck to hi m qui ckl y. “No, there’s no fa ul t, Ma r n—Look, they s urel y weren’t a l l i ns i de together.” Ma r n fol l owed hi m a nd s ea rched a mong the wrecked ma chi nes dul l y, then a c vel y. He s po ed the a i rs l ed. It ha d come down hea di ng s outh, a nd s tuck a t a n a ngl e i n a pothol e of col l oi da l dus t. It ha d ca rri ed two ri ders . One wa s ha l f s unk i n the dus t, but hi s s ui t meters regi s tered norma l func oni ng; the other hung s tra pped onto the l ted s l ed. Her i ms ui t ha d burs t open on the broken l egs , a nd the body wa s frozen ha rd a s a ny rock. Tha t wa s a l l they found. As both regul a on a nd cus tom dema nded, they crema ted the dea d a t once wi th the l a s er guns they ca rri ed by regul a on a nd ha d never us ed before. Pugh, knowi ng he wa s goi ng to be s i ck, wres tl ed the s urvi vor onto the two-ma n s l ed a nd s ent Ma r n off to the dome wi th hi m. Then he vomi ted a nd flus hed the wa s te out of hi s s ui t, a nd findi ng one four-ma n s l ed unda ma ged, fol l owed a er Ma r n, s ha ki ng a s i f the col d of Li bra ha d got through to hi m. The s urvi vor wa s Ka ph. He wa s i n deep s hock. They found a s wel l i ng on the occi put tha t mi ght mea n concus s i on, but no fra cture wa s vi s i bl e. Pugh brought two gl a s s es of food concentra te a nd two cha s ers of a qua vi t. “Come on,” he s a i d. Ma r n obeyed, dri nki ng off the toni c. They s a t down on cra tes nea r the cot a nd s i pped the a qua vi t. Ka ph l a y i mmobi l e, fa ce l i ke bees wa x, ha i r bri ght bl a ck to the s houl ders , l i ps s ti ffl y pa rted for fa i ntl y ga s pi ng brea ths . “It mus t ha ve been the firs t s hock, the bi g one,” Ma r n s a i d. “It mus t ha ve s l i d the whol e s tructure s i dewa ys . Ti l l i t fel l i n on i ts el f. There mus t be ga s l a yers i n the l a tera l rocks , l i ke thos e forma ons i n the Thi rty-firs t Qua dra nt. But there wa s n’t a ny s i gn —” As he s poke the worl d s l i d out from under them. Thi ngs l ea ped a nd cl a ered, hopped a nd ji gged, s houted Ha ! Ha ! Ha ! “It wa s l i ke thi s a t fourteen hours ,” s a i d Rea s on s ha ki l y i n Ma r n’s voi ce, a mi ds t the unfa s teni ng a nd rui n of the worl d. But Unrea s on s a t up, a s the tumul t l es s ened a nd thi ngs cea s ed da nci ng, a nd s crea med a l oud. 50

Pugh l ea ped a cros s hi s s pi l t a qua vi t a nd hel d Ka ph down. The mus cul a r body fla i l ed hi m off. Ma r n pi nned the s houl ders down. Ka ph s crea med, s truggl ed, choked; hi s fa ce bl a ckened. “Oxy,” Pugh s a i d, a nd hi s ha nd found the ri ght needl e i n the medi ca l ki t a s i f by homi ng i ns nct; whi l e Ma r n hel d the ma s k he s truck the needl e home to the va gus nerve, res tori ng Ka ph to l i fe. “Di dn’t know you knew tha t s tunt,” Ma rti n s a i d, brea thi ng ha rd. “ The La za rus Ja b, my fa ther wa s a doctor. It does n’t o en work,” Pugh s a i d. “I wa nt tha t dri nk I s pi l l ed. Is the qua ke over? I ca n’t tel l .” “Afters hocks . It’s not jus t you s hi veri ng.” “Why di d he s uffoca te?” “I don’t know, Owen. Look i n the book.” Ka ph wa s brea thi ng norma l l y a nd hi s col or wa s res tored; onl y the l i ps were s l l da rkened. They poured a new s hot of coura ge a nd s a t down by hi m a ga i n wi th thei r medi ca l gui de. “Nothi ng a bout cya nos i s or a s phyxi a on under ‘Shock’ or ‘Concus s i on.’ He ca n’t ha ve brea thed i n a nythi ng wi th hi s s ui t on. I don’t know. We’d get a s much good out of Mother Mog’s Home Herba l i s t.... ‘Ana l Hemorrhoi ds ,’ fy!” Pugh pi tched the book to a cra te ta bl e. It fel l s hort, beca us e ei ther Pugh or the ta bl e wa s s ti l l uns tea dy. “Why di dn’t he s i gna l ?” “Sorry?” “ The ei ght i ns i de the mi ne never ha d me. But he a nd the gi rl mus t ha ve been outs i de. Ma ybe s he wa s i n the entra nce a nd got hi t by the firs t s l i de. He mus t ha ve been outs i de, i n the control hut ma ybe. He ra n i n, pul l ed her out, s tra pped her onto the s l ed, s ta rted for the dome. And a l l tha t ti me never pus hed the pa ni c button i n hi s i ms ui t. Why not?” “Wel l , he’d ha d tha t wha ck on hi s hea d. I doubt he ever rea l i zed the gi rl wa s dea d. He wa s n’t i n hi s s ens es . But i f he ha d been I don’t know i f he’d ha ve thought to s i gna l us . They l ooked to one a nother for hel p.” Ma r n’s fa ce wa s l i ke a n Indi a n ma s k, grooves a t the mouth comers , eyes of dul l coa l . “ Tha t’s s o. Wha t mus t he ha ve fel t, then, when the qua ke ca me a nd he wa s outs i de, a l one—” In a ns wer Ka ph s crea med. He ca me off the cot i n the hea vi ng convul s i ons of one s uffoca ng, knocked Pugh ri ght down wi th hi s fla i l i ng a rms , s ta ggered i nto a s ta ck of cra tes a nd fel l to the floor, l i ps bl ue, eyes whi te. Ma r n dra gged hi m ba ck onto the cot a nd ga ve hi m a whi ff of oxygen, then knel t by Pugh, who wa s s i ng up, a nd wi ped a t hi s cut cheekbone. “Owen, a re you a l l ri ght, a re you goi ng to be a l l ri ght, Owen?” “I thi nk I a m,” Pugh s a i d. “Why a re you rubbi ng tha t on my fa ce?” It wa s a s hort l ength of computer ta pe, now s po ed wi th Pugh’s bl ood. Ma r n dropped i t. “ Thought i t wa s a towel . You cl i pped your cheek on tha t box there.” “Is he out of i t?” “Seems to be.” They s ta red down a t Ka ph l yi ng s ti ff, hi s teeth a whi te l i ne i ns i de da rk pa rted l i ps . “Li ke epi l eps y. Bra i n da ma ge, ma ybe?” “Wha t a bout s hoo ng hi m ful l of meproba ma te?” Pugh s hook hi s hea d. “I don’t know wha t’s i n tha t s hot I a l rea dy ga ve hi m for s hock. Don’t wa nt to overdos e hi m.” “Ma ybe he’l l s l eep i t off now.” “I’d l i ke to mys el f. Between hi m a nd the ea rthqua ke I ca n’t s eem to keep on my feet.” “You got a na s ty cra ck there. Go on, I’l l s i t up a whi l e.” Pugh cl ea ned hi s cut cheek a nd pul l ed off hi s s hi rt, then pa us ed. “Is there a nythi ng we ought to ha ve done—ha ve tri ed to do—” “They’re a l l dea d,” Ma rti n s a i d hea vi l y, gentl y. Pugh l a y down on top of hi s s l eepi ng ba g a nd one i ns ta nt l a ter wa s wa kened by a hi deous , s ucki ng, s truggl i ng noi s e. He s ta ggered up, found the needl e, tri ed three mes to ja b i t i n correctl y a nd fa i l ed, bega n to ma s s a ge over Ka ph’s hea rt. “Mouthto-mouth,” he s a i d, a nd Ma r n obeyed. Pres entl y Ka ph drew a ha rs h brea th, hi s hea rtbea t s tea di ed, hi s ri gi d mus cl es bega n to rel a x. “How l ong di d I s l eep?” “Ha l f a n hour.”

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They s tood up s wea ng. The ground s huddered, the fa bri c of the dome s a gged a nd s wa yed. Li bra wa s da nci ng her a wful pol ka a ga i n, her Totenta nz. The s un, though ri s i ng, s eemed to ha ve grown l a rger a nd redder; ga s a nd dus t mus t ha ve been s rred up i n the feebl e a tmos phere. “Wha t’s wrong wi th hi m, Owen?” “I thi nk he’s dyi ng wi th them.” “Them— But they’re a l l dea d, I tel l you.” “Ni ne of them. They’re a l l dea d, they were crus hed or s uffoca ted. They were a l l hi m, he i s a l l of them. They di ed, a nd now he’s dyi ng thei r dea ths one by one.” “Oh, pi ty of God,” s a i d Ma rti n. The next me wa s much the s a me. The fi h me wa s wors e, for Ka ph fought a nd ra ved, tryi ng to s pea k but ge ng no words out, a s i f hi s mouth were s topped wi th rocks or cl a y. A er tha t the a a cks grew wea ker, but s o di d he. The ei ghth s ei zure ca me a t a bout four-thi rty; Pugh a nd Ma r n worked l l five-thi rty doi ng a l l they coul d to keep l i fe i n the body tha t s l i d wi thout protes t i nto dea th. They kept hi m, but Ma r n s a i d, “ The next wi l l fini s h hi m.” And i t di d; but Pugh brea thed hi s own brea th i nto the i nert l ungs , unti l he hi ms el f pa s s ed out. He woke. The dome wa s opa qued a nd no l i ght on. He l i s tened a nd hea rd the brea thi ng of two s l eepi ng men. He s l ept, a nd nothi ng woke hi m ti l l hunger di d. The s un wa s wel l up over the da rk pl a i ns , a nd the pl a net ha d s topped da nci ng. Ka ph l a y a s l eep. Pugh a nd Ma r n dra nk tea a nd l ooked a t hi m wi th propri eta ry tri umph. When he woke Ma r n went to hi m: “How do you feel , ol d ma n?” There wa s no a ns wer. Pugh took Ma r n’s pl a ce a nd l ooked i nto the brown, dul l eyes tha t ga zed towa rd but not i nto hi s own. Li ke Ma r n he qui ckl y turned a wa y. He hea ted food concentra te a nd brought i t to Ka ph. “Come on, dri nk.” He coul d s ee the mus cl es i n Ka ph’s throa t ti ghten. “Let me di e,” the young ma n s a i d. “You’re not dyi ng.” Ka ph s poke wi th cl a ri ty a nd preci s i on: “I a m ni ne-tenths dea d. There i s not enough of me l eft a l i ve.” Tha t preci s i on convi nced Pugh, a nd he fought the convi c on. “No,” he s a i d, peremptory. “ They a re dea d. The others . Your brothers a nd s i s ters . You’re not them, you’re a l i ve. You a re John Chow. Your l i fe i s i n your own ha nds .” The young ma n l a y s ti l l , l ooki ng i nto a da rknes s tha t wa s not there. Ma r n a nd Pugh took turns ta ki ng the Expl oi ta on ha ul er a nd a s pa re s et of robos over to Hel l mouth to s a l va ge equi pment a nd protect i t from Li bra ’s s i ni s ter a tmos phere, for the va l ue of the s tuff wa s , l i tera l l y, a s tronomi ca l . It wa s s l ow work for one ma n a t a me, but they were unwi l l i ng to l ea ve Ka ph by hi ms el f. The one l e i n the dome di d pa perwork, whi l e Ka ph s a t or l a y a nd s ta red i nto hi s da rknes s a nd never s poke. The da ys went by, s i l ent. The ra di o s pa t a nd s poke: the Mi s s i on ca l l i ng from the s hi p. “We’l l be down on Li bra i n five weeks , Owen. Thi rty-four E-da ys ni ne hours I ma ke i t a s of now. How’s tri cks i n the ol d dome?” “Not good, chi ef. The Expl oi t tea m were ki l l ed, a l l but one of them, i n the mi ne. Ea rthqua ke. Si x da ys a go.” The ra di o cra ckl ed a nd s a ng s ta rs ong. Si xteen s econds ’ l a g ea ch wa y; the s hi p wa s out a round Pl a net II now. “Ki l l ed, a l l but one? You a nd Ma rti n were unhurt?” “We’re a l l ri ght, chi ef.” Thi rty-two s econds . “Pa s s eri ne l e a n Expl oi t tea m out here wi th us . I ma y put them on the Hel l mouth project then, i ns tea d of the Qua dra nt Seven project. We’l l s e l e tha t when we come down. In a ny ca s e you a nd Ma r n wi l l be rel i eved a t Dome Two. Hol d ght. Anythi ng el s e?” “Nothi ng el s e.” Thi rty-two s econds . “Ri ght then. So l ong, Owen.” Ka ph ha d hea rd a l l thi s , a nd l a ter on Pugh s a i d to hi m, “ The chi ef ma y a s k you to s ta y here wi th the other Expl oi t tea m. You know the ropes here.” Knowi ng the exi genci es of Fa r Out l i fe, he wa nted to wa rn the young ma n. Ka ph ma de no a ns wer. Si nce he ha d s a i d, “There i s not enough of me l eft a l i ve,” he ha d not s poken a word. “Owen,” Ma rti n s a i d on s ui t i ntercom, “he’s s pl a . Ins a ne. Ps ycho.” “He’s doi ng very wel l for a ma n who’s di ed ni ne ti mes .” “Wel l ? Li ke a turned-off a ndroi d i s wel l ? The onl y emoti on he ha s l eft i s ha te. Look a t hi s eyes .” “ Tha t’s not ha te, Ma r n. Li s ten, i t’s true tha t he ha s , i n a s ens e, been dea d. I ca nnot i ma gi ne wha t he feel s . But i t’s not ha tred. He ca n’t even s ee us . It’s too da rk.” “ Throa ts ha ve been cut i n the da rk. He ha tes us beca us e we’re not Al eph a nd Yod a nd 52

Za yi n.” “Ma ybe. But I thi nk he’s a l one. He does n’t s ee us or hea r us , tha t’s the truth. He never ha d to s ee a nyone el s e before. He never wa s a l one before. He ha d hi ms el f to s ee, ta l k wi th, l i ve wi th, ni ne other s el ves a l l hi s l i fe. He does n’t know how you go i t a l one. He mus t l ea rn. Gi ve hi m ti me.” Ma r n s hook hi s hea vy hea d. “Spl a ,” he s a i d. “Jus t remember when you’re a l one wi th hi m tha t he coul d brea k your neck oneha nded.” “He coul d do tha t,” s a i d Pugh, a s hort, s o -voi ced ma n wi th a s ca rred cheekbone; he s mi l ed. They were jus t outs i de the dome a i rl ock, progra mmi ng one of the s ervos to repa i r a da ma ged ha ul er. They coul d s ee Ka ph s i ng i ns i de the grea t ha l f-egg of the dome l i ke a fl y i n a mber. “Ha nd me the i ns ert pa ck there. Wha t ma kes you thi nk he’l l get a ny better?” “He ha s a s trong pers ona l i ty, to be s ure.” “Strong? Cri ppl ed. Ni ne-tenths dea d, a s he put i t.” “But he’s not dea d. He’s a l i ve ma n: John Ka ph Chow. He ha d a jol l y queer upbri ngi ng, but a fter a l l every boy ha s got to brea k free of hi s fa mi l y. He wi l l do i t.” “I ca n’t s ee i t.” “ Thi nk a bi t, Ma r n ba ch. Wha t’s thi s cl oni ng for? To repa i r the huma n ra ce. We’re i n a ba d wa y. Look a t me. My IIQ a nd GC a re ha l f thi s John Chow’s . Yet they wa nted me s o ba dl y for the Fa r Out Servi ce tha t when I vol unteered they took me a nd fi ed me wi th a n a r fici a l l ung a nd corrected my myopi a . Now i f there were enough good s ound l a ds a bout woul d they be ta ki ng onel unged s hort-s i ghted Wel s hmen?” “Di dn’t know you ha d a n a rti fi ci a l l ung.” “I do then. Not n, you know. Huma n, grown i n a ta nk from a bi t of s omebody; cl oned, i f you l i ke. Tha t’s how they ma ke repl a cement orga ns , the s a me genera l i dea a s cl oni ng, but bi ts a nd pi eces i ns tea d of whol e peopl e. It’s my own l ung now, wha tever. But wha t I a m s a yi ng i s thi s , there a re too ma ny l i ke me thes e da ys a nd not enough l i ke John Chow. They’re tryi ng to ra i s e the l evel of the huma n gene c pool , whi ch i s a mucky l i l e puddl e s i nce the popul a on cra s h. So then i f a ma n i s cl oned, he’s a s trong a nd cl ever ma n. It’s onl y l ogi c, to be s ure.” Ma rti n grunted; the s ervo bega n to hum. Ka ph ha d been ea ng l i l e; he ha d troubl e s wa l l owi ng hi s food, choki ng on i t, s o tha t he woul d gi ve up tryi ng a er a few bi tes . He ha d l os t ei ght or ten ki l os . A er three weeks or s o, however, hi s a ppe te bega n to pi ck up, a nd one da y he bega n to l ook through the cl one’s pos s es s i ons , the s l eepi ng ba gs , ki ts , pa pers whi ch Pugh ha d s ta cked nea tl y i n a fa r a ngl e of a pa cki ng-cra te a l l ey. He s orted, des troyed a hea p of pa pers a nd oddments , ma de a s ma l l pa cket of wha t rema i ned, then rel a ps ed i nto hi s wa l ki ng coma . Two da ys l a ter he s poke. Pugh wa s tryi ng to correct a flu er i n the ta pe-pl a yer a nd fa i l i ng; Ma r n ha d the jet out, checki ng thei r ma ps of the Pa mpa s . “Hel l a nd da mna ti on!” Pugh s a i d, a nd Ka ph s a i d i n a tonel es s voi ce, “Do you wa nt me to do tha t?” Pugh jumped, control l ed hi ms el f, a nd ga ve the ma chi ne to Ka ph. The young ma n took i t a pa rt, put i t ba ck together, a nd l e i t on the ta bl e. “Put on a ta pe,” Pugh s a i d wi th ca reful ca s ua l nes s , bus y a t a nother ta bl e. Ka ph put on the topmos t ta pe, a chora l e. He l a y down on hi s cot. The s ound of a hundred huma n voi ces s i ngi ng together fil l ed the dome. He l a y s ti l l , hi s fa ce bl a nk. In the next da ys he took over s evera l rou ne jobs , una s ked. He undertook nothi ng tha t wa nted i ni a ve, a nd i f a s ked to do a nythi ng he ma de no res pons e a t a l l . “He’s doi ng wel l ,” Pugh s a i d i n the di a l ect of Argenti na . “He’s not. He’s turni ng hi ms el f i nto a ma chi ne. Does wha t he’s progra mmed to do, no rea c on to a nythi ng el s e. He’s wors e off tha n when he di dn’t functi on a t a l l . He’s not huma n a ny more.” Pugh s i ghed. “Wel l , good ni ght,” he s a i d i n Engl i s h. “Good ni ght, Ka ph.” “Good ni ght,” Ma r n s a i d; Ka ph di d not. Next morni ng a t brea kfa s t Ka ph rea ched a cros s Ma r n’s pl a te for the toa s t. “Why don’t you a s k for i t?” Ma rti n s a i d wi th the geni a l i ty of repres s ed exa s pera ti on. “I ca n pa s s i t.” “I ca n rea ch i t,” Ka ph s a i d i n hi s fl a t voi ce. “Yes , but l ook. As ki ng to pa s s thi ngs , s a yi ng good ni ght or hel l o, they’re not i mporta nt, but a l l the s a me when s omebody s a ys s omethi ng a pers on ought to a ns wer....” The young ma n l ooked i ndi fferentl y i n Ma r n's di rec on; hi s eyes s l l di d not s eem to s ee cl ea r through to the pers on he l ooked towa rd. “Why s houl d I a ns wer?” “Beca us e s omebody ha s s a i d s omethi ng to you.” “Why?” Ma rti n s hrugged a nd l a ughed. Pugh jumped up a nd turned on the rock-cutter. 53

La ter on he s a i d, “La y off tha t, pl ea s e, Ma rti n.” “Ma nners a re es s enti a l i n s ma l l i s ol a ted crews , s ome ki nd of ma nners , wha tever you work out together. He’s been ta ught tha t, everybody i n Fa r Out knows i t. Why does he del i bera tel y fl out i t?” “Do you tel l yours el f good ni ght?” “So?” “Don’t you s ee Ka ph’s never known a nyone but hi ms el f?” Ma r n brooded a nd then broke out. “ Then by God thi s cl oni ng bus i nes s i s a l l wrong. It won’t do. Wha t a re a l ot of dupl i ca te geni us es goi ng to do for us when they don’t even know we exi s t?” Pugh nodded. “It mi ght be wi s er to s epa ra te the cl ones a nd bri ng them up wi th others . But they ma ke s uch a gra nd tea m thi s wa y.” “Do they? I don’t know. If thi s l ot ha d been ten a vera ge i neffici ent E.T. engi neers , woul d they a l l ha ve got ki l l ed? Wha t i f, when the qua ke ca me a nd thi ngs s ta rted ca vi ng i n, wha t i f a l l thos e ki ds ra n the s a me wa y, fa rther i nto the mi ne, ma ybe, to s a ve the one who wa s fa rthes t i n? Even Ka ph wa s outs i de a nd went i n.... It’s hypothe ca l . But I keep thi nki ng, out of ten ordi na ry confus ed guys , more mi ght ha ve got out.” “I don’t know. It’s true tha t i den ca l twi ns tend to di e a t a bout the s a me me, even when they ha ve never s een ea ch other. Identi ty a nd dea th, i t i s very s tra nge....” The da ys went on, the red s un cra wl ed a cros s the da rk s ky, Ka ph di d not s pea k when s poken to, Pugh a nd Ma r n s na pped a t ea ch other more frequentl y ea ch da y. Pugh compl a i ned of Ma r n’s s nori ng. Offended, Ma r n moved hi s cot cl ea r a cros s the dome a nd a l s o cea s ed s pea ki ng to Pugh for s ome whi l e. Pugh whi s tl ed Wel s h di rges un l Ma r n compl a i ned, a nd then Pugh s topped s pea ki ng for a whi l e. The da y before the Mi s s i on s hi p wa s due, Ma rti n a nnounced he wa s goi ng over to Meri oneth. “I thought a t l ea s t you’d be gi vi ng me a ha nd wi th the computer to fi ni s h the rock a na l ys es ,” Pugh s a i d, a ggri eved. “Ka ph ca n do tha t. I wa nt one more l ook a t the Trench. Ha ve fun,” Ma rti n a dded i n di a l ect, a nd l a ughed, a nd l eft. “Wha t i s tha t l a ngua ge?” “Argenti nea n. I tol d you tha t once, di dn’t I?” “I don’t know.” After a whi l e the young ma n a dded, “I ha ve forgotten a l ot of thi ngs , I thi nk.” “It wa s n’t i mporta nt, to be s ure,” Pugh s a i d gentl y, rea l i zi ng a l l a t once how i mporta nt thi s convers a on wa s . “Wi l l you gi ve me a ha nd runni ng the computer, Ka ph?” He nodded. Pugh ha d l eft a l ot of l oos e ends , a nd the job took them a l l da y. Ka ph wa s a good co-worker, qui ck a nd s ys tema ti c, much more s o tha n Pugh hi ms el f. Hi s fla t voi ce, now tha t he wa s ta l ki ng a ga i n, got on the nerves ; but i t di dn’t ma er, there wa s onl y thi s one da y l eft to get through a nd then the s hi p woul d come, the ol d crew, comra des a nd fri ends . Duri ng tea brea k Ka ph s a i d, “Wha t wi l l ha ppen i f the Expl ore s hi p cra s hes ?” “They’d be ki l l ed.” “To you, I mea n.” “ To us ? We’d ra di o SOS s i gna l s a nd l i ve on ha l f ra ons l l the res cue crui s er from Area Three Ba s e ca me. Four a nd a ha l f Eyea rs a wa y i t i s . We ha ve l i fe s upport here for three men for, l et’s s ee, ma ybe between four a nd five yea rs . A bi t ght, i t woul d be.” “Woul d they s end a crui s er for three men?” “They woul d.” Ka ph s a i d no more. “Enough cheerful s pecul a ons ,” Pugh s a i d cheerful l y, ri s i ng to get ba ck to work. He s l i pped s i dewa ys a nd the cha i r a voi ded hi s ha nd; he di d a s ort of ha l f-pi roue e a nd fetched up ha rd a ga i ns t the dome hi de. “My goodnes s ,” he s a i d, rever ng to hi s na ve i di om, “wha t i s i t?” “Qua ke,” s a i d Ka ph. The tea cups bounced on the ta bl e wi th a pl a s c ca ckl e, a l i er of pa pers s l i d off a box, the s ki n of the dome s wel l ed a nd s a gged. Underfoot there wa s a huge noi s e, ha l f s ound, ha l f s ha ki ng, a s ubs oni c boom. Ka ph s a t unmoved. An ea rthqua ke does not fri ghten a ma n who di ed i n a n ea rthqua ke. Pugh, whi te-fa ced, wi ry bl a ck ha i r s ti cki ng out, a fri ghtened ma n, s a i d, “Ma rti n i s i n the Trench.” “Wha t trench?” “ The bi g fa ul t l i ne. The epi center for the l oca l qua ke. Look a t the s ei s mogra ph.” Pugh s truggl ed wi th the s tuck door of a s l l ji tteri ng l ocker. 54

“Where a re you goi ng?” “After hi m.” “Ma rti n took the jet. Sl eds a ren’t s a fe to us e duri ng qua kes . They go out of control .” “For God’s s a ke ma n, s hut up.” Ka ph s tood up, s pea ki ng i n a fl a t voi ce a s us ua l . “It’s unneces s a ry to go out a fter hi m now. It’s ta ki ng a n unneces s a ry ri s k.” “If hi s a l a rm goes off, ra di o me,” Pugh s a i d, s hut the hea d-pi ece of hi s s ui t, a nd ra n to the l ock. As he went out Li bra pi cked up her ra gged s ki rts a nd da nced a bel l y da nce from under hi s feet cl ea r to the red hori zon. Ins i de the dome, Ka ph s a w the s l ed go up, trembl e l i ke a meteor i n the dul l red da yl i ght, a nd va ni s h to the northea s t. The hi de of the dome qui vered, the ea rth coughed. A vent s outh of the dome bel ched up a s l ow-fl owi ng bi l e of bl a ck ga s . A bel l s hri l l ed a nd a red l i ght fla s hed on the centra l control boa rd. The s i gn under the l i ght rea d Sui t 2 a nd s cri bbl ed under tha t, A. G. M. Ka ph di d not turn the s i gna l off. He tri ed to ra di o Ma rti n, then Pugh, but got no repl y from ei ther. When the a ers hocks decrea s ed he went ba ck to work a nd fini s hed up Pugh’s job. It took hi m a bout two hours . Every ha l f hour he tri ed to conta ct Sui t 1 a nd got no repl y, then Sui t 2 a nd got no repl y. The red l i ght ha d s topped fl a s hi ng a fter a n hour. It wa s di nnerti me. Ka ph cooked di nner for one a nd a te i t. He l a y down on hi s cot. The a ers hocks ha d cea s ed except for fa i nt rol l i ng tremors a t l ong i nterva l s . The s un hung i n the wes t, obl a te, pa l e red, i mmens e. It di d not s i nk vi s i bl y. There wa s no s ound a t a l l . Ka ph got up a nd bega n to wa l k a bout the mes s y, ha l f-pa cked-up, overcrowded, empty dome. The s i l ence con nued. He went to the pl a yer a nd put on the firs t ta pe tha t ca me to ha nd. It wa s pure mus i c, el ectroni c, wi thout ha rmoni es , wi thout voi ces . It ended. The s i l ence conti nued. Pugh’s uni form tuni c, one button mi s s i ng, hung over a s ta ck of rock s a mpl es . Ka ph s ta red a t i t a whi l e. The s i l ence conti nued. The chi l d’s drea m: There i s no one el s e a l i ve i n the worl d but me. In a l l the worl d. Low, north of the dome, a meteor fl i ckered. Ka ph’s mouth opened a s i f he were tryi ng to s a y s omethi ng, but no s ound ca me. He went ha s l y to the north wa l l a nd peered out i nto the gel a ti nous red l i ght. The l i l e s ta r ca me i n a nd s a nk. Two figures bl urred the a i rl ock. Ka ph s tood cl os e bes i de the l ock a s they ca me i n. Ma r n’s i ms ui t wa s covered wi th s ome ki nd of dus t s o tha t he l ooked ra ddl ed a nd wa rty l i ke the s urfa ce of Li bra . Pugh ha d hi m by the a rm. “Is he hurt?” Pugh s hucked hi s s ui t, hel ped Ma rti n peel hi s off. “Sha ken up,” he s a i d, curt. “A pi ece of cl i ff fel l onto the jet,” Ma r n s a i d, s i ng down a t the ta bl e a nd wa vi ng hi s a rms . “Not whi l e I wa s i n i t though. I wa s pa rked, s ee, a nd poki ng a bout tha t ca rbon-dus t a rea when I fel t thi ngs humpi ng. So I went out onto a ni ce bi t of ea rl y i gneous I’d no ced from a bove, good foo ng a nd out from under the cl i ffs . Then I s a w thi s bi t of the pl a net fa l l off onto the flyer, qui te a s i ght i t wa s , a nd a er a whi l e i t occurred to me the s pa re a i rca ns were i n the flyer, s o I l ea ned on the pa ni c bu on. But I di dn’t get a ny ra di o recep on, tha t’s a l wa ys ha ppeni ng here duri ng qua kes , s o I di dn’t know i f the s i gna l wa s ge ng through ei ther. And thi ngs went on jumpi ng a nd pi eces of the cl i ff comi ng off. Li l e rocks flyi ng a round, a nd s o dus ty you coul dn’t s ee a meter a hea d. I wa s rea l l y begi nni ng to wonder wha t I’d do for brea thi ng i n the s ma l l hours , you know, when I s a w ol d Owen buzzi ng up the Trench i n a l l tha t dus t a nd junk l i ke a bi g ugl y ba t—” “Wa nt to ea t?” s a i d Pugh. “Of cours e I wa nt to ea t. How’d you come through the qua ke here, Ka ph? No da ma ge? It wa s n’t a bi g one a ctua l l y, wa s i t, wha t’s the s ei s mo s a y? My troubl e wa s I wa s i n the mi ddl e of i t. Ol d Epi center Al va ro. Fel t l i ke Ri chter fi een there—tota l des truc on of pl a net—" “Si t down,” Pugh s a i d. “Ea t.” A er Ma r n ha d ea ten a l i l e hi s s pa te of ta l k ra n dry. He very s oon went off to hi s cot, s l l i n the remote a ngl e where he ha d removed i t when Pugh compl a i ned of hi s s nori ng. “Good ni ght, you one-l unged Wel s hma n,” he s a i d a cros s the dome. “Good ni ght.” There wa s no more out of Ma r n. Pugh opa qued the dome, turned the l a mp down to a yel l ow gl ow l es s tha n a ca ndl e’s l i ght, a nd s a t doi ng nothi ng, s a yi ng nothi ng, wi thdra wn. The s i l ence conti nued. “I fi ni s hed the computa ti ons .” Pugh nodded tha nks . 55

“The s i gna l from Ma rti n ca me through, but I coul dn’t conta ct you or hi m.” Pugh s a i d wi th effort, “I s houl d not ha ve gone. He ha d two hours of a i r l e even wi th onl y one ca n. He mi ght ha ve been hea di ng home when I l e . Thi s wa y we were a l l out of touch wi th one a nother. I wa s s ca red.” The s i l ence ca me ba ck, punctua ted now by Ma rti n’s l ong, s oft s nores . “Do you l ove Ma rti n?” Pugh l ooked up wi th a ngry eyes : “Ma r n i s my fri end. We’ve worked together, he’s a good ma n.” He s topped. A er a whi l e he s a i d, “Yes , I l ove hi m. Why di d you a s k tha t?” Ka ph s a i d nothi ng, but he l ooked a t the other ma n. Hi s fa ce wa s cha nged, a s i f he were gl i mps i ng s omethi ng he ha d not s een before; hi s voi ce too wa s cha nged. “How ca n you... How do you...” But Pugh coul d not tel l hi m. “I don’t know,” he s a i d, “i t’s pra c ce, pa rtl y. I don’t know. We’re ea ch of us a l one, to be s ure. Wha t ca n you do but hol d your ha nd out i n the da rk?” Ka ph’s s tra nge ga ze dropped, burned out by i ts own i ntens i ty. “I’m red,” Pugh s a i d. “ Tha t wa s ugl y, l ooki ng for hi m i n a l l tha t bl a ck dus t a nd muck, a nd mouths openi ng a nd s hu ng i n the ground.... I’m goi ng to bed. The s hi p wi l l be tra ns mi tti ng to us by s i x or s o.” He s tood up a nd s tretched. “It’s a cl one,” Ka ph s a i d. “The other Expl oi t Tea m they’re bri ngi ng wi th them.” “Is i t then?” “A twel vecl one. They ca me out wi th us on the Pa s s eri ne.” Ka ph s a t i n the s ma l l yel l ow a ura of the l a mp s eemi ng to l ook pa s t i t a t wha t he fea red: the new cl one, the mul pl e s el f of whi ch he wa s not pa rt. A l os t pi ece of a broken s et, a fra gment, i nexpert a t s ol i tude, not knowi ng even how you go a bout gi vi ng l ove to a nother i ndi vi dua l , now he mus t fa ce the a bs ol ute, cl os ed s el f-s uffici ency of the cl one of twel ve; tha t wa s a l ot to a s k of the poor fel l ow, to be s ure. Pugh put a ha nd on hi s s houl der i n pa s s i ng. “ The chi ef won’t a s k you to s ta y here wi th a cl one. You ca n go home. Or s i nce you’re Fa r Out ma ybe you’l l come on fa rther out wi th us . We coul d us e you. No hurry deci di ng. You’l l ma ke out a l l ri ght.” Pugh’s qui et voi ce tra i l ed off. He s tood unbuttoni ng hi s coa t, s tooped a l i ttl e wi th fa ti gue. Ka ph l ooked a t hi m a nd s a w the thi ng he ha d never s een before, s a w hi m: Owen Pugh, the other, the s tra nger who hel d hi s ha nd out i n the da rk. “Good ni ght,” Pugh mumbl ed, cra wl i ng i nto hi s s l eepi ng ba g a nd ha l f a s l eep a l rea dy, s o tha t he di d not hea r Ka ph repl y a er a pa us e, repea ti ng, a cros s da rknes s , benedi cti on.

56

THINGS

Da mon Kni ght, edi tor mi ra bi l i s , firs t publ i s hed thi s s tory i n a vol ume of Orbi t, under the tl e “ The End.” I don’t remember how we a rri ved a t i t, but I s us pect he thought tha t “ Thi ngs ” s ounded too much l i ke s omethi ng you s ee on the tel evi s i on a t one A.M., wi th purpl e tenta cl es . But I ha ve gone ba ck to i t beca us e—a t l ea s t a er rea di ng the ps ychomyth—i t puts the ri ght empha s i s . Thi ngs you us e; thi ngs you pos s es s , a nd a re pos s es s ed by; thi ngs you bui l d wi th—bri cks , words . You bui l d hous es wi th them, a nd towns , a nd ca us ewa ys . But the bui l di ngs fa l l , the ca us ewa ys ca nnot go a l l the wa y. There i s a n a bys s , a ga p, a l a s t s tep to be ta ken. On the s hore of the s ea he s tood l ooki ng out over the l ong foa m-l i nes fa r where va gue the Is l a nds l i ed or were gues s ed. There, he s a i d to the s ea , there l i es my ki ngdom. The s ea s a i d to hi m wha t the s ea s a ys to everybody. As eveni ng moved from behi nd hi s ba ck a cros s the wa ter the foa m-l i nes pa l ed a nd the wi nd fel l , a nd very fa r i n the wes t s hone a s ta r perha ps , perha ps a l i ght, or hi s des i re for a l i ght. He cl i mbed the s treets of hi s town a ga i n i n l a te dus k. The s hops a nd huts of hi s nei ghbors were l ooki ng empty now, cl ea red out, cl ea ned up, pa cked a wa y i n prepa ra ti on for the end. Mos t of the peopl e were up a t the Weepi ng i n Hei ghts -Ha l l or down wi th the Ra gers i n the fiel ds . But Li f ha d not been a bl e to cl ea r out a nd cl ea n up; hi s wa res a nd bel ongi ngs were too hea vy to throw a wa y, too ha rd to brea k, too dul l to burn. Onl y centuri es coul d wa s te them. Wherever they were pi l ed or dropped or thrown they formed wha t mi ght ha ve been, or s eemed to be, or yet mi ght be, a ci ty. So he ha d not tri ed to get ri d of hi s thi ngs . Hi s ya rd wa s s l l s ta cked a nd pi l ed wi th bri cks , thous a nds a nd thous a nds of bri cks of hi s own ma ki ng. The ki l n s tood col d but rea dy, the ba rrel s of cl a y a nd dry morta r a nd l i me, the hods a nd ba rrows a nd trowel s of hi s tra de, everythi ng wa s there. One of the fel l ows from Scri veners La ne ha d a s ked s neeri ng, Goi ng to bui l d a bri ck wa l l a nd hi de behi nd i t when tha t ol d end comes , ma n? Another nei ghbor on hi s wa y up to the Hei ghts -Ha l l ga zed a whi l e a t thos e s ta cks a nd hea ps a nd l oa ds a nd mounds of wel l s ha ped, wel l -ba ked bri cks a l l a s oft reddi s h gol d i n the gol d of the a fternoon s un, a nd s i ghed a t l a s t wi th the wei ght of them on hi s hea rt: Thi ngs , thi ngs ! Free yours el f of thi ngs , Li f, from the wei ght tha t dra gs you down! Come wi th us , a bove the endi ng worl d! Li f ha d pi cked up a bri ck from the hea p a nd put i t i n pl a ce on the s ta ck a nd s mi l ed i n emba rra s s ment. When they were a l l pa s t he ha d gone nei ther up to the Ha l l nor out to hel p wreck the fiel ds a nd ki l l the a ni ma l s , but down to the bea ch, the end of the endi ng worl d, beyond whi ch l a y onl y wa ter. Now ba ck i n hi s bri ckya rd hut wi th the s mel l of s a l t i n hi s cl othes a nd hi s fa ce hot wi th the s ea wi nd, he fel t nei ther the Ra gers ’ l a ughi ng a nd wrecki ng des pa i r nor the s oa ri ng a nd weepi ng des pa i r of the communi ca nts of the Hei ghts ; he fel t empty; he fel t hungry. He wa s a hea vy l i l e ma n a nd the s ea wi nd a t the worl d’s edge ha d bl own a t hi m a l l eveni ng wi thout movi ng hi m a t a l l . Hey, Li f! s a i d the wi dow from Wea vers La ne, whi ch cros s ed hi s s treet a few hous es down, —I s a w you comi ng up the s treet, a nd never a nother s oul s i nce s uns et, a nd ge ng da rk, a nd qui eter tha n... She di d not s a y wha t the town wa s qui eter tha n, but went on, Ha ve you ha d your s upper? I wa s a bout to ta ke my roa s t out of the oven, a nd the l i l e one a nd I wi l l never ea t up a l l tha t mea t before the end comes , no doubt, a nd I ha te to s ee good mea t go to wa s te. Wel l tha nk you very much, s a ys Li f, pu ng on hi s coa t a ga i n; a nd they went down Ma s ons La ne to Wea vers La ne through the da rk a nd the wi nd s weepi ng up s teep s treets from the s ea . In the wi dow’s l a mpl i t hous e Li f pl a yed wi th her ba by, the l a s t born i n the town, a l i l e fa t boy jus t l ea rni ng how to s ta nd up. Li f s tood hi m up a nd he l a ughed a nd fel l over, whi l e the wi dow s et out brea d a nd hot mea t on the ta bl e of hea vy woven ca ne. They s a t to ea t, even the ba by, who worked wi th four teeth a t a ha rd hunk of brea d. — How i s i t you’re not up on the Hi l l or i n the fiel ds ? a s ked Li f, a nd the wi dow repl i ed a s i f the a ns wer s ufficed to her mi nd, Oh, I ha ve the ba by. Li f l ooked a round the l i l e hous e whi ch her hus ba nd, who ha d been one of Li f's bri ckl a yers , ha d bui l t. — Thi s i s good, he s a i d. I ha ven’t ta s ted mea t s i nce l a s t yea r s ome ti me. I know, I know! No hous es bei ng bui l t a ny more. Not a one, he s a i d. Not a wa l l nor a henhous e, not even repa i rs . But your wea vi ng, tha t’s s ti l l wa nted? Yes ; s ome of them wa nt new cl othes ri ght up to the end. Thi s mea t I bought from the Ra gers tha t s l a ughtered a l l my l ord’s flocks , a nd I pa i d wi th the money I got for a pi ece of fine l i nen I wove for my l ord’s da ughter’s gown tha t s he wa nts to wea r a t the end! The wi dow ga ve a l i l e deri s i ve, s ympa the c s nort, a nd went on: But now there’s no fla x, a nd s ca rcel y a ny wool . No more to s pi n, no more to wea ve. The fi el ds burnt a nd the fl ocks dea d. Yes , s a i d Li f, ea ti ng the good roa s t mea t. Ba d ti mes , he s a i d, the wors t ti mes . And now, the wi dow went on, where’s brea d to come from, wi th the fiel ds burnt? And wa ter, now they’re poi s oni ng the wel l s ? I s ound l i ke the Weepers up there, don’t I? Hel p yours el f, Li f. Spri ng l a mb’s the fines t mea t i n the worl d, my ma n a l wa ys s a i d, l l a utumn ca me a nd then he’d s a y roa s t pork’s the fi nes t mea t i n the worl d. Come on now, gi ve yours el f a proper s l i ce.... Tha t ni ght i n hi s hut i n the bri ckya rd Li f drea med. Us ua l l y he s l ept a s s l l a s the bri cks thems el ves but thi s ni ght he dri ed a nd floa ted i n drea m a l l ni ght to the Is l a nds , a nd when he woke they were no l onger a wi s h or a gues s : l i ke a s ta r a s da yl i ght da rkens they ha d become certa i n, he knew them. But wha t, i n hi s drea m, ha d borne hi m over the wa ter? He ha d not flown, he ha d not wa l ked, he ha d not gone underwa ter l i ke the fis h; yet he ha d come a cros s the grey-green pl a i ns a nd wi nd-moved hi l l ocks of the s ea to the Is l a nds , he ha d hea rd voi ces ca l l , a nd s een the l i ghts of towns . He s et hi s mi nd to thi nk how a ma n coul d ri de on wa ter. He thought of how gra s s floa ts on s trea ms , a nd s a w how one mi ght ma ke a s ort of ma t of woven ca ne a nd l i e on i t pus hi ng wi th one’s ha nds : but the grea t ca nebrea ks were s l l s mol deri ng down by the s trea m, a nd the pi l es of wi thi es a t the ba s ketma ker’s ha d a l l been burnt. On the Is l a nds i n hi s drea m he ha d s een ca nes or gra s s es ha l f a hundred feet hi gh, wi th brown s tems thi cker tha n hi s a rms coul d rea ch a round, a nd a worl d of green l ea ves 57

s prea d s unwa rd from the thous a nd outrea chi ng twi gs . On thos e s tems a ma n mi ght ri de over the s ea . But no s uch pl a nts grew i n hi s country nor ever ha d; though i n the Hei ghts -Ha l l wa s a kni fe-ha ndl e ma de of a dul l brown s tuff, s a i d to come from a pl a nt tha t grew i n s ome other l a nd, ca l l ed wood. But he coul d not ri de a cros s the bel l owi ng s ea on a kni fe-ha ndl e. Grea s ed hi des mi ght floa t; but the ta nners ha d been i dl e now for weeks , there were no hi des for s a l e. He mi ght a s wel l s top l ooki ng a bout for a ny hel p. He ca rri ed hi s ba rrow a nd hi s l a rges t hod down to the bea ch tha t whi te wi ndy morni ng a nd l a i d them i n the s l l wa ter of a l a goon. Indeed they floa ted, deep i n the wa ter, but when he l ea ned even the wei ght of one ha nd on them they ti pped, fi l l ed, s a nk. They were too l i ght, he thought. He went ba ck up the cl i ff a nd through the s treets , l oa ded the ba rrow wi th us el es s wel l -ma de bri cks , a nd wheel ed a ha rd l oa d down. As s o few chi l dren ha d been born thes e l a s t yea rs there wa s no young curi os i ty a bout to a s k hi m wha t he wa s doi ng, though a Ra ger or two, groggy from l a s t ni ght’s wreckfes t, gl a nced s i del ong a t hi m from a da rk doorwa y through the bri ghtnes s of the a i r. Al l tha t da y he brought down bri cks a nd the ma ki ngs of morta r, a nd the next da y, though he ha d not ha d the drea m a ga i n, he bega n to l a y hi s bri cks there on the bl us teri ng bea ch of Ma rch wi th ra i n a nd s a nd ha ndy i n grea t qua n es to s et hi s cement. He bui l t a l i l e bri ck dome, ups i de down, ova l wi th poi nted ends l i ke a fis h, a l l of a s i ngl e cours e of bri cks l a i d s pi ra l very cunni ngl y. If a cupful or a ba rrowful of a i r woul d floa t, woul d not a bri ck domeful ? And i t woul d be s trong. But when the morta r wa s s et, a nd s tra i ni ng hi s broa d ba ck he overturned the dome a nd pus hed i t i nto the crea m of the brea kers , i t dug deeper a nd deeper i nto the wet s a nd, burrowi ng down l i ke a cl a m or a s a nd flea . The wa ves fil l ed i t, a nd refil l ed i t when he pped i t empty, a nd a t l a s t a green-s houl dered brea ker ca ught i t wi th i ts whi te dra ggi ng ba ckpul l , rol l ed i t over, s ma s hed i t ba ck i nto i ts el ementa l bri cks a nd s a nk them i n the res tl es s s odden s a nd. There s tood Li f wet to the neck a nd wi pi ng s a l t s pra y out of hi s eyes . Nothi ng l a y wes twa rd on the s ea but wa vewra ck a nd ra i n-cl ouds . But they were there. He knew them, wi th thei r grea t gra s s es ten mes a ma n’s hei ght, thei r wi l d gol den fiel ds ra ked by the s ea wi nd, thei r whi te towns , thei r whi te-crowned hi l l s a bove the s ea ; a nd the voi ces of s hepherds ca l l ed on the hi l l s . I’m a bui l der, not a floa ter, s a i d Li f a er he ha d cons i dered hi s s tupi di ty from a l l s i des . And he ca me doggedl y out of the wa ter a nd up the cl i ff-s i de pa th a nd through the ra i ny s treets to get a nother ba rrowl oa d of bri cks . Free for the firs t me i n a week from hi s fool drea m of floa ng, he no ced now tha t Lea ther Street s eemed des erted. The ta nnery wa s rubbi s hy a nd va ca nt. The cra s men’s s hops l a y l i ke a row of l i l e bl a ck ga pi ng mouths , a nd the s l eepi ng-room wi ndows a bove them were bl i nd. At the end of the l a ne a n ol d cobbl er wa s burni ng, wi th a terri bl e s tench, a s ma l l hea p of new s hoes never worn. Bes i de hi m a donkey wa i ted, s a ddl ed, fl i cki ng i ts ea rs a t the s ti nki ng s moke. Li f went on a nd l oa ded hi s ba rrow wi th bri cks . Thi s me a s he wheel ed i t down, s tra i ni ng ba ck a ga i ns t the tug of the ba rrow on the s teep s treets , s wi ngi ng a l l the s trength of hi s s houl ders to ba l a nce i ts cours e on the wi ndi ng cl i ff-pa th down to the bea ch, a coupl e of towns men fol l owed hi m. Two or three more from Scri veners La ne fol l owed a er them, a nd s evera l more from the s treets round the ma rket pl a ce, s o tha t by the me he s tra i ghtened up, the s ea foa m fizzi ng on hi s ba re bl a ck feet a nd the s wea t col d on hi s fa ce, there wa s a l i l e crowd s trung out a l ong the deep s i ngl e tra ck of hi s ba rrow over the s a nd. They ha d the l oungi ng l i s tl es s a i r of Ra gers . Li f pa i d them no heed, though he wa s a wa re tha t the wi dow of Wea vers La ne wa s up on the cl i ffs wa tchi ng wi th a s ca red fa ce. He ra n the ba rrow out i nto the s ea l l the wa ter wa s up to hi s ches t, a nd pped the bri cks out, a nd ca me runni ng i n wi th a grea t brea ker, hi s ba ngi ng ba rrow ful l of foa m. Al rea dy s ome of the Ra gers were dri i ng a wa y down the bea ch. A ta l l fel l ow from the Scri veners La ne l ot l ounged by hi m a nd s a i d wi th a l i ttl e gri n, Why don’t you throw ’em from the top of the cl i ff, ma n? They’d onl y hi t the s a nd, s a i d Li f. And you wa nt to drown ’em. Wel l good. You know there wa s s ome of us thought you wa s bui l di ng s omethi ng down here! They wa s goi ng to ma ke cement out of you. Keep thos e bri cks wet a nd cool , ma n. Gri nni ng, the Scri vener dri fted off, a nd Li f s ta rted up the cl i ff for a nother l oa d. Come for s upper, Li f, s a i d the wi dow a t the cl i ff’s top wi th a worri ed voi ce, hol di ng her ba by cl os e to keep i t from the wi nd. I wi l l , he s a i d. I’l l bri ng a l oa f of brea d, I l a i d i n a coupl e before the ba kers l e . He s mi l ed, but s he di d not. As they cl i mbed the s treets together s he a s ked, Are you dumpi ng your bri cks i n the s ea , Li f? He l a ughed whol ehea rtedl y a nd a ns wered yes . She ha d a l ook then tha t mi ght ha ve been rel i ef a nd mi ght ha ve been s a dnes s ; but a t s upper i n her l a mpl i t hous e s he wa s qui et a nd ea s y a s ever, a nd they a te thei r chees e a nd s ta l e brea d wi th good cheer. Next da y he went on ca rryi ng bri cks down l oa d a er l oa d, a nd i f the Ra gers wa tched hi m they thought hi m bus y on thei r own ki nd of work. The s l ope of the bea ch out to deep wa ter wa s gra dua l , s o tha t he coul d keep bui l di ng wi thout ever worki ng a bove wa ter. He ha d s ta rted a t l ow de s o tha t hi s work woul d never be l a i d ba re. At hi gh de i t wa s ha rd, dumpi ng the bri cks a nd tryi ng to l a y them i n rough cours es wi th the whol e s ea boi l i ng i n hi s fa ce a nd thunderi ng over hi s hea d, but he kept a t i t. Towa rds eveni ng he brought down l ong i ron rods a nd bra ced wha t he ha d bui l t, for a cros s current tended to undermi ne hi s ca us ewa y a bout ei ght feet from i ts begi nni ng. He ma de s ure tha t even the ps of the rods were under wa ter a t l ow de, s o tha t no Ra ger mi ght s us pect a n a ffirma on wa s bei ng ma de. A coupl e of el derl y men comi ng down from a Weepi ng i n the Hei ghts Ha l l pa s s ed hi m cl a ngi ng a nd ba eri ng hi s empty ba rrow up the s tone s treets i n dus k, a nd gra vel y s mi l ed upon hi m. It i s wel l to be free of Thi ngs , s a i d one s oftl y, a nd the other nodded. Next da y, though s l l he ha d not drea med of the Is l a nds a ga i n, Li f went on bui l di ng hi s ca us ewa y. The s a nd bega n to s hel ve off more s teepl y a s he went further. Hi s method now wa s to s ta nd on the l a s t bi t he ha d bui l t a nd p the ca reful l y-l oa ded ba rrow from there, a nd then p hi ms el f off a nd work, flounderi ng a nd ga s pi ng a nd comi ng up a nd pus hi ng down, to get the bri cks 58

l evel l ed a nd fi ed between the pre-s et rods ; then up a ga i n, a cros s the grey s a nd a nd up the cl i ff a nd ba ng-cl a er through the qui et s treets for a nother l oa d. Some me tha t week the wi dow s a i d, mee ng hi m i n hi s bri ckya rd, Let me throw ’em over the cl i ff for you, i t’l l s a ve you one l eg of the tri p. It’s hea vy work l oa di ng the ba rrow, he s a i d. Oh, wel l , s a i d s he. Al l ri ght, s o l ong a s you wa nt to. But bri cks a re hea vy ba s ta rds . Don’t try to ca rry ma ny. I’l l gi ve you the s ma l l ba rrow. And the l i ttl e ra t here ca n s i t on the l oa d a nd get a ri de. So s he hel ped hi m on a nd off through da ys of s i l very wea ther, fog i n the morni ng, cl ea r s ea a nd s ky a l l a ernoon, a nd the weeds i n cra nni es of the cl i ff floweri ng; there wa s nothi ng el s e l e to flower. The ca us ewa y ra n out ma ny ya rds from s hore now, a nd Li f ha d ha d to l ea rn a s ki l l whi ch no one el s e ha d ever l ea rned tha t he knew of, except the fis h. He coul d floa t a nd move hi ms el f a bout on the wa ter or under i t, i n the very s ea , wi thout touchi ng foot or ha nd to s ol i d ea rth. He ha d never hea rd tha t a ma n coul d do thi s thi ng; but he di d not thi nk much a bout i t, bei ng s o bus y wi th hi s bri cks , i n a nd out of a i r a nd i n a nd out of wa ter a l l da y l ong, wi th the foa m, the bubbl es of wa ter-ci rcl ed a i r or a i r-ci rcl ed wa ter, a l l a bout hi m, a nd the fog, a nd the Apri l ra i n, a confus i on of the el ements . Some mes he wa s ha ppy down i n the murky green unbrea tha bl e worl d, wres tl i ng s tra ngel y wi l l ful a nd wei ghtl es s bri cks a mong the s ta ri ng s hoa l s , a nd onl y the need of a i r drove hi m ga s pi ng up i nto the s pra y-l a den wi nd. He bui l t a l l da y l ong, s cra mbl i ng up on the s a nd to col l ect the bri cks tha t hi s fa i thful hel per dumped over the cl i ff’s edge for hi m, l oa d them i n hi s ba rrow a nd run them out the ca us ewa y tha t went s tra i ght out a foot or two under s ea l evel a t l ow de a nd four or five feet under a t hi gh, then dumped them a t the end, di ve i n, a nd bui l d; then ba ck a s hore for a nother l oa d. He ca me up i nto town onl y a t eveni ng, worn out, s a l t-bl ea red a nd s a l t-i tchi ng, hungry a s a s ha rk, to s ha re wha t food turned up wi th the wi dow a nd her l i ttl e boy. La tel y, though s pri ng wa s getti ng on wi th s oft, l ong, wa rm eveni ngs , the town wa s very da rk a nd s ti l l . One ni ght when he wa s not too ti red to noti ce thi s ne s poke of i t, a nd the wi dow s a i d, Oh, they’re a l l gone now, I thi nk. —Al l ? A pa us e. —Where di d they go? She s hrugged. She ra i s ed her da rk eyes to hi s a cros s the ta bl e a nd ga zed through l a mpl i t s i l ence a t hi m for a me. Where? s he s a i d. Where does your s ea -roa d l ea d, Li f? He s ta yed s ti l l a whi l e. To the Is l a nds , he a ns wered a t l a s t, a nd then l a ughed a nd met her l ook. She di d not l a ugh. She onl y s a i d, Are they there? Is i t true, then, there a re Is l a nds ? Then s he l ooked over a t her s l eepi ng ba by, a nd out the open doorwa y i nto the da rknes s of l a te s pri ng tha t l a y wa rm i n the s treets where no one wa l ked a nd the rooms where no one l i ved. At l a s t s he l ooked ba ck a t Li f, a nd s a i d to hi m, Li f, you know, there a ren’t ma ny bri cks l e . A few hundred. You’l l ha ve to ma ke s ome more. Then s he bega n to cry s oftl y. By God! s a i d Li f, thi nki ng of hi s underwa ter roa d a cros s the s ea tha t went for a hundred a nd twenty feet, a nd the s ea tha t went on ten thous a nd mi l es from the end of i t—I’l l s wi m there! Now then, don’t cry, dea r hea rt. Woul d I l ea ve you a nd the l i l e ra t here by yours el ves ? A er a l l the bri cks you’ve nea rl y hi t my hea d wi th, a nd a l l the queer weeds a nd s hel l fis h you’ve found us to ea t l a tel y, a er your ta bl e a nd fires i de a nd your bed a nd your l a ughter woul d I l ea ve you when you cry? Now be s l l , don’t cry. Let me thi nk of a wa y we ca n get to the Is l a nds , a l l of us together. But he knew there wa s no wa y. Not for a bri ckma ker. He ha d done wha t he coul d do. Wha t he coul d do went one hundred a nd twenty feet from s hore. Do you thi nk, he a s ked a er a l ong me, duri ng whi ch s he ha d cl ea red the ta bl e a nd ri ns ed the pl a tes i n wel l wa ter tha t wa s comi ng cl ea r a ga i n now tha t the Ra gers ha d been gone ma ny da ys —Do you thi nk tha t ma ybe... thi s ... He found i t ha rd to s a y but s he s tood qui et, wa i ti ng, a nd he ha d to s a y i t: Tha t thi s i s the end? S l l nes s . In the one l a mpl i t room a nd a l l the da rk rooms a nd s treets a nd the burnt fiel ds a nd wa s ted l a nds , s l l nes s . In the bl a ck Ha l l a bove them on the hi l l ’s hei ght, s l l nes s . A s i l ent a i r, a s i l ent s ky, s i l ence i n a l l pl a ces unbroken, unrepl yi ng. Except for the fa r s ound of the s ea , a nd, very s oft though nea rer, the brea thi ng of a s l eepi ng chi l d. No, the woma n s a i d. She s a t down a cros s from hi m a nd put her ha nds upon the ta bl e, fine ha nds a s da rk a s ea rth, the pa l ms l i ke i vory. No, s he s a i d, the end wi l l be the end. Thi s i s s ti l l jus t the wa i ti ng for i t. Then why a re we s ti l l here—jus t us ? Oh, wel l , s he s a i d, you ha d your thi ngs —your bri cks —a nd I ha d the ba by.... Tomorrow we mus t go, he s a i d a fter a ti me. She nodded. Before s unri s e they were up. There wa s nothi ng a t a l l l e to ea t, a nd s o when s he ha d put a few cl othes for the ba by i n a ba g a nd ha d on her wa rm l ea ther ma ntl e, a nd he ha d s tuck hi s kni fe a nd trowel i n hi s bel t a nd put on a wa rm cl oa k tha t ha d been her hus ba nd’s , they l eft the l i ttl e hous e, goi ng out i nto the col d wa n l i ght i n the des erted s treets . They went downhi l l , he l ea di ng, s he fol l owi ng wi th the s l eepy chi l d i n a fol d of her cl oa k. He turned nei ther to the roa d tha t l ed 59

north up the coa s t nor to the s outhern roa d, but went on pa s t the ma rket pl a ce a nd out on the cl i ff a nd down the rocky pa th to the bea ch. Al l the wa y s he fol l owed a nd nei ther of them s poke. At the edge of the s ea he turned. Il l keep you up i n the wa ter a s l ong a s we ca n ma na ge, he s a i d. She nodded, a nd s a i d s oftl y, We’l l us e the roa d you bui l t, a s fa r a s i t goes . He took her free ha nd a nd l ed her i nto the wa ter. It wa s col d. It wa s bi er col d, a nd the col d l i ght from the ea s t behi nd them s hone on the foa m-l i nes hi s s i ng on the s a nd. When they s tepped on the begi nni ng of the ca us ewa y the bri cks were firm under thei r feet, a nd the chi l d ha d gone ba ck to s l eep on her s houl der i n a fol d of her cl oa k. As they went on the buffe ng of the wa ves got s tronger. The de wa s comi ng i n. The outer brea kers wet thei r cl othes , chi l l ed thei r fles h, drenched thei r ha i r a nd fa ces . They rea ched the end of hi s l ong work. There l a y the bea ch a l i l e wa y behi nd them, the s a nd da rk under the cl i ff over whi ch s tood the s i l ent, pa l i ng s ky. Around them wa s wi l d wa ter a nd foa m. Ahea d of them wa s the unres ti ng wa ter, the grea t a bys s , the ga p. A brea ker hi t them on i ts wa y i n to s hore a nd they s ta ggered; the ba by, wa ked by the s ea ’s ha rd s l a p, cri ed, a l i l e wa i l i n the l ong, col d, hi s s i ng mutter of the s ea a l wa ys s a yi ng the s a me thi ng. Oh, I ca n’t! cri ed the mother, but s he gri pped the ma n’s ha nd more fi rml y a nd ca me on a t hi s s i de. Li i ng hi s hea d to ta ke the l a s t s tep from wha t he ha d done towa rds no s hore, he s a w the s ha pe ri di ng the wes tern wa ter, the l ea pi ng l i ght, the whi te fli cker l i ke a s wa l l ow’s brea s t ca tchi ng the brea k of da y. It s eemed a s i f voi ces ra ng over the s ea ’s voi ce. Wha t i s i t? he s a i d, but her hea d wa s bowed to her ba by, tryi ng to s oothe the l i l e wa i l tha t cha l l enged the va s t ba bbl i ng of the s ea . He s tood s l l a nd s a w the whi tenes s of the s a i l , the da nci ng l i ght a bove the wa ves , da nci ng on towa rds them a nd towa rds the grea ter l i ght tha t grew behi nd them. Wa i t, the ca l l ca me from the form tha t rode the grey wa ves a nd da nced on the foa m, Wa i t! The voi ces ra ng very s weet, a nd a s the s a i l l ea ned whi te a bove hi m he s a w the fa ces a nd the rea chi ng a rms , a nd hea rd them s a y to hi m, Come, come on the s hi p, come wi th us to the Is l a nds . Hol d on, he s a i d s oftl y to the woma n, a nd they took the l a s t s tep. A TRIP TO THE HEAD

Mos t peopl e “l ea d l i ves of qui et des pera on,” a nd s ome s tori es s ta rt there, too. We were i n Engl a nd a nd i t wa s November a nd da rk a t two i n the a ernoon a nd ra i ni ng a nd the s ui tca s e conta i ni ng a l l my ma nus cri pts ha d been s tol en a t the dock i n Southa mpton a nd I ha dn’t wri en a nythi ng for months a nd I coul dn’t unders ta nd the greengrocer a nd he coul dn’t unders ta nd me a nd i t wa s des pera on—but qui et—s ff upper l i p, don’t you know. So I s a t down a nd s ta rted s cri bbl i ng words , perfectl y hopel es s l y. Words , words , words . They went on a bout a s fa r a s “ 'Try bei ng Ama nda ,’ the other s a i d s ourl y,” a nd s topped. A yea r or s o l a ter (Bri s h Ra i l s , a l l honor to them, ha d found my s tol en s ui tca s e, we were ba ck home i n Oregon, i t wa s ra i ni ng) I found the s cri bbl e, a nd went on s cri bbl i ng, a nd ca me to the end. I never di d find out wha t the tl e ought to be—my a gent, Vi rgi ni a Ki dd, di d tha t, to my del i ght. There i s a ki nd of s tory whi ch I woul d des cri be a s a Bung Pul l er. The wri ter for one rea s on or a nother ha s been s tuck, ca n’t work; a nd gets s ta rted a ga i n s uddenl y, wi th a pop, a nd a l ot of beer comes l ea pi ng out of the keg a nd foa mi ng a l l over the floor. Thi s s tory wa s defi ni tel y a Bung Pul l er. “Is thi s Ea rth?” he cri ed, for thi ngs ha d cha nged a bruptl y. “Yes , thi s i s Ea rth,” s a i d the one bes i de hi m, “nor a re you out of i t. In Za mbi a men a re rol l i ng down hi l l s i ns i de ba rrel s a s tra i ni ng for s pa ce fli ght. Is ra el a nd Egypt ha ve defol i a ted ea ch other’s des erts . The Rea der’s Di ges t ha s bought a control l i ng i nteres t i n the Uni ted Sta tes of Ameri ca /Genera l Mi l l s combi ne. The popul a on of the Ea rth i s i ncrea s i ng by thi rty bi l l i on every Thurs da y. Mrs Ja cquel i ne Kennedy Ona s s i s wi l l ma rry Ma o Ts e-Tung on Sa turda y, i n s ea rch of s ecuri ty; a nd Rus s i a ha s conta mi na ted Ma rs wi th brea d mol d.” “Why then,” s a i d he, “nothi ng ha s cha nged.” “Nothi ng much,” s a i d the one bes i de hi m. “As Jea n-Pa ul Sa rtre ha s s a i d i n hi s l ova bl e wa y, ‘Hel l i s other peopl e.’ ” “To Hel l wi th Jea n-Pa ul Sa rtre. I wa nt to know where I a m.” “Wel l then,” s a i d the other, “tel l me who you a re.” “I’m.” “Wel l ?” “My na me i s .” “Wha t?” He s tood, hi s eyes fil l i ng wi th tea rs a nd hi s knees wi th pa l s y, a nd knew he di d not know hi s na me. He wa s a bl a nk, a ci pher, a n x. He ha d a body a nd a l l tha t, but he ha d no who. They s tood a t the edge of a fores t, he a nd the other one. It wa s a recogni za bl e fores t, though ra ther di ngy i n the l ea f, a nd da ma ged a t the fri nges by weedki l l er. A fa wn wa s wa l ki ng a wa y from them i nto the fores t a nd a s i t went i ts na me fel l a wa y from i t. Somethi ng l ooked ba ck a t them wi th mi l d eyes from the da rknes s of the trees before i t va ni s hed. “ Thi s i s Engl a nd!” cri ed bl a nk, gra s pi ng the fl oa ti ng s tra w, but the other s a i d, “Engl a nd s a nk yea rs a go.” 60

“Sa nk?” “Yes . Foundered. Nothi ng i s l eft now but the topmos t fourteen feet of Mt Snowdon, known a s the New Wel s h Reef.” At thi s bl a nk a l s o s a nk. He wa s crus hed. “Oh,” he cri ed on hi s knees , i ntendi ng to a s k s omebody’s hel p, but he coul d not remember whos e hel p i t wa s one a s ked. It bega n wi th a T, he wa s a l mos t certa i n. He bega n to weep. The other s a t down on the gra s s bes i de hi m a nd pres entl y put a ha nd on hi s s houl der, s a yi ng, “Come on now, don’t ta ke i t s o ha rd.” The ki ndl y voi ce ga ve bl a nk s ome coura ge. He control l ed hi ms el f, dri ed hi s fa ce on hi s s l eeve, a nd l ooked a t the other. It wa s l i ke hi m, roughl y. It wa s a nother. However, i t ha d no na me ei ther. Wha t good wa s i t? Sha dow ca me i nto the eyes a s Ea rth went round on i ts a xi s . Sha dow s l i pped ea s twa rd a nd upwa rd i nto the other’s eyes . “I thi nk,” bl a nk s a i d ca reful l y, “tha t we s houl d move out from the s ha dow of the, thi s , here.” He ges tured to the objects nea r them, l a rge thi ngs , da rk bel ow a nd mul tudi nous l y green a bove, the na mes of whi ch he coul d no l onger remember. He wondered i f ea ch one ha d a na me, or i f they were a l l ca l l ed by the s a me na me. Wha t a bout hi ms el f a nd the other, di d they s ha re a na me i n common, or di d ea ch ha ve one of hi s own? “I ha ve a feel i ng I’l l remember be er fa rther a wa y from i t, from them,” he s a i d. “Certa i nl y,” s a i d the other. “But i t won’t ma ke a s much di fference a s i t us ed to.” When they ca me cl ea r a wa y from i t i nto the s unl i ght, he a t once remembered tha t i t wa s ca l l ed a fores t a nd tha t they were ca l l ed trees . However, he coul d not reca l l whether or not ea ch tree ha d a na me of i ts own. If they di d, he di d not remember a ny of them. Perha ps he di d not know thes e trees pers ona l l y. “Wha t s ha l l I do,” he s a i d, “wha t s ha l l I do?” “Wel l , l ook here, you ca n ca l l yours el f wha tever you pl ea s e, you know. Why not?” “But I wa nt to know my rea l na me.” “ Tha t i s n’t a l wa ys ea s y. But mea nwhi l e you coul d jus t ta ke a l a bel , a s i t were, for ea s e of reference a nd convers a ona l purpos es . Pi ck a na me, a ny na me!” s a i d the other, a nd hel d out a bl ue box na med di s pos a bl e. “No,” s a i d bl a nk proudl y, “I’l l choos e my own.” “Ri ght. But don’t you wa nt a Kl eenex?” Bl a nk took a Kl eenex, bl ew hi s nos e, a nd s a i d, “I s ha l l ca l l mys el f..." He ha l ted i n terror. The other wa tched hi m, mi l d-eyed. “How ca n I s a y who I a m when I ca n’t s a y wha t I a m?” “How woul d you fi nd out wha t you a re?” “If I ha d a nythi ng— If I di d s omethi ng—” “Tha t woul d ma ke you be?” “Of cours e i t woul d.” “I never thought of tha t. Wel l , then, i t does n’t ma tter wha t na me you’re ca l l ed by; a ny one wi l l do; i t’s wha t you do tha t counts .” Bl a nk s tood up. “I wi l l exi s t,” he s ta ted fi rml y. “I wi l l ca l l mys el f Ra l ph.” Whi pcord breeches fi ed cl os e on hi s powerful thi ghs , the s tock ros e hi gh on hi s neck, s wea t cl ung i n hi s thi ck, curl y ha i r. He ta pped hi s boots wi th hi s ri di ng-crop, hi s ba ck to Ama nda , who s a t i n her ol d grey dres s i n the deep s ha de of the peca n tree. He s tood i n ful l s unl i ght, hot wi th a nger. “You’re a fool ,” he s a i d. “Why Mr. Ra l ph,” ca me the s oft l i l ti ng Southern voi ce, “Ah’m jus t a l i ttl e bi t s tubborn.” “You rea l i ze, don’t you, tha t Ya nkee a s I a m, I own a l l the l a nd from here to Weevi l vi l l e? I own thi s county! Your fa rm woul dn’t ma ke a pea nut-pa tch for one of my da rki es ’ ki tchen ga rdens !” “Indeed not. Won’t you come s i t down i n the s ha de, Mr Ra l ph? Youa h getti n’ s o hot out thea h.” “You proud vi xen,” he murmured, turni ng. He s a w her, whi te a s a l i l y i n her worn ol d dres s , i n the s ha de of the grea t ol d trees : the whi te l i l y of the ga rden. Suddenl y he wa s a t her feet, cl a s pi ng her ha nds . She flu ered i n hi s powerful gra s p. “Oh Mr Ra l ph,” s he cri ed fa i ntl y, “wha t does thi s mea n?” “I a m a ma n, Ama nda , a nd you a re a woma n. I never wa nted your l a nd. I never wa nted a nythi ng but you, my whi te l i l y, my l i l e rebel ! I wa nt you, I wa nt you! Ama nda ! Sa y you wi l l be my wi fe!” “Ah wi l l ,” s he brea thed fa i ntl y, bendi ng towa rds hi m a s a whi te flower s toops ; a nd thei r l i ps met i n a l ong, l ong ki s s . But i t di d not s eem to hel p a t a l l .

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Perha ps i t ought to be moved up twenty or thi rty yea rs . “You s i ck bi tch,” he mu ered, turni ng. He s a w her, s ta rk na ked there i n the s ha de, her ba ck a ga i ns t the peca n tree, her knees up. He s trode towa rds her unbu oni ng hi s fly. They coupl ed i n the cen pede-i nfes ted cra bgra s s . He bucked l i ke a bronco, s he cri ed ul ul a ti ngl y, Oooh! Aa a h! Comi ng comi ng comi ng come wow wow wow CLIMAX! Now wha t? Bl a nk s tood a t a l i ttl e di s ta nce from the fores t a nd s ta red di s cons ol a tel y a t the other. “Am I a ma n?” he i nqui red. “Are you a woma n?” “Don’t a s k me,” the other s a i d, moros e. “I thought s urel y tha t wa s the mos t i mporta nt thi ng to es ta bl i s h!” “Not s o da mned i mporta nt.” “You mea n i t does n’t ma tter i f I a m a ma n or a woma n?” “Of cours e i t ma ers . It ma ers to me too. It a l s o ma ers whi ch ma n a nd whi ch woma n we a re or, a s the ca s e ma y be, a re not. For i ns ta nce, wha t i f Ama nda wa s bl a ck?” “But s ex.” “Oh, Hel l ,” s a i d the other wi th a fla re of temper, “bri s tl eworms ha ve s ex, tree-s l oths ha ve s ex, Jea n-Pa ul Sa rtre ha s s ex—wha t does i t prove?” “Why, s ex i s rea l , I mea n rea l l y rea l —i t’s ha vi ng a nd a c ng i n i ts i ntens es t form. When a ma n ta kes a woma n he proves hi s bei ng!” “I s ee. But wha t i f he’s a woma n?” “I wa s Ra l ph.” “Try bei ng Ama nda ,” the other s a i d s ourl y. There wa s a pa us e. Sha dows were comi ng on ea s twa rd a nd upwa rd from the fores t over the gra s s . Sma l l bi rds cri ed jug, jug, tereu. Bl a nk s a t hunched over hi s knees . The other l a y s tretched out, ma ki ng pa erns wi th fa l l en pi ne needl es , s ha dowed, s orrowful . “I’m s orry,” bl a nk s a i d. “No ha rm done,” the other s a i d. “After a l l , i t wa s n’t rea l .” “Li s ten,” bl a nk s a i d, l ea pi ng up, “I know wha t’s ha ppened! I’m on s ome ki nd of tri p. I took s omethi ng, a nd I’m on a tri p, tha t’s i t!” It wa s . He wa s on a tri p. A ca noe tri p. He wa s pa ddl i ng a s ma l l ca noe a l ong a l ong, na rrow, da rk, s hi ni ng s tretch of wa ter. The roof a nd wa l l s were of concrete. It wa s pre y da rk. The l ong l a ke, or s trea m, or s ewer, s l a nted upwa rd vi s i bl y. He wa s pa ddl i ng a ga i ns t the current, uphi l l . It wa s ha rd work, but the ca noe kept s l i di ng forwa rd upri ver a s s i l entl y a s the bl a ck s hi ni ng wa ter moved ba ck down. He kept hi s s trokes qui et, the pa ddl e enteri ng the wa ter s i l ent a s a kni fe i n bu er. Hi s l a rge bl a ck-a nd-pea rl el ectri c gui ta r l a y on the forwa rd s ea t. He knew there wa s s omebody behi nd hi m, but he di dn’t s a y a nythi ng. He wa s n’t a l l owed to s a y a nythi ng or even l ook a round, s o i f they di dn’t keep up tha t wa s thei r l ookout, he coul dn’t be ca l l ed res pons i bl e. He certa i nl y coul dn’t s l ow down, the current mi ght get hol d of hi s ca noe a nd pul l i t ri ght out from under hi m a nd then where’d he be? He s hut hi s eyes a nd kept pa ddl i ng, s i l ent entry, s trong s troke. There wa s no s ound behi nd hi m. The wa ter ma de no s ound. The cement ma de no s ound. He wondered i f he wa s a ctua l l y goi ng forwa rd or onl y ha ngi ng s l l whi l e the bl a ck wa ter ra n hel l bent benea th. He woul d never get out to da yl i ght. Out, out— Out. The other di dn’t even s eem to ha ve noti ced tha t bl a nk ha d been a wa y on a tri p, but jus t l a y there ma ki ng pa tterns wi th pi ne needl es , a nd pres entl y s a i d, “How i s your memory?” Bl a nk s ea rched i t to s ee i f i t ha d i mproved whi l e he wa s a wa y. There wa s l es s i n i t tha n before. The cupboa rd wa s ba re. There wa s a l ot of junk i n the cel l a rs a nd a cs , ol d toys , nurs ery rhymes , myths , ol d wi ves ' ta l es , but no nouri s hment for a dul ts , no l ea s t s cra p of pos s es s i on, not a crumb of s ucces s . He s ea rched a nd s ea rched l i ke a s ta rvi ng methodi ca l ra t. At l a s t he s a i d uncerta i nl y, “I do remember Engl a nd.” “Why s urel y. I expect you ca n even remember Oma ha .” “But I mea n, I remember bei ng i n Engl a nd.” “Do you?” The other s a t up, s ca tteri ng pi nes tra w. “You do remember bei ng, then! Wha t a pi ty Engl a nd s a nk.” They were s i l ent a ga i n.

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“I ha ve l os t everythi ng.” There wa s a da rknes s i n the other’s eyes a nd on the ea s tern edge of the ea rth pl ungi ng down the s teepeni ng s l opes of ni ght. “I’m nobody.” “At l ea s t,” s a i d the other, “you know you’re huma n.” “Oh, wha t good’s tha t? wi th no na me, no s ex, no nothi ng? I mi ght a s wel l be a bri s tl eworm or a tree-s l oth!” “You mi ght a s wel l ,” the other a greed, “be Jea n-Pa ul Sa rtre.” “I?” s a i d bl a nk, offended. Dri ven to deni a l by s o na us eous a no on, he s tood up a nd s a i d, “I certa i nl y a m not Jea n-Pa ul Sa rtre. I a m mys el f.” And s o s a yi ng he found hi ms el f to be, i n fa ct, hi ms el f; hi s na me wa s Lewi s D. Cha rl es a nd he knew i t a s wel l a s he knew hi s own na me. There he wa s . The fores t wa s there, root a nd bra nch. The other wa s , however, gone. Lewi s D. Cha rl es l ooked i n the red eye of the wes t a nd the da rk eye of the ea s t. He s houted a l oud, “Come ba ck! Pl ea s e come ba ck!” He ha d gone a t i t a l l wrong, ba ckwa rds . He ha d found the wrong na me. He turned, a nd wi thout the l ea s t i mpul s e of s el fpres erva ti on pl unged i nto the pa thl es s fores t, ca s ti ng hi ms el f a wa y s o tha t he mi ght fi nd wha t he ha d ca s t a wa y. Under the trees he forgot hi s na me a ga i n a t once. He a l s o forgot wha t he wa s l ooki ng for. Wha t wa s i t he ha d l os t? He went deeper a nd deeper i nto s ha dows , under l ea ves , ea s twa rd, i n the fores t where na mel es s ti gers burned. VASTER THAN EMPIRES AND MORE SLOW

Trees a ga i n. As I reca l l , Robert Si l verberg, who firs t publ i s hed thi s s tory i n New Di mens i ons 1, a s ked very gentl y i f I woul d cha nge the tl e. I coul d s ee where a rea der a bout ha l fwa y through mi ght find the tl e a l l too des cri p ve of the s tory i ts el f; but i t wa s too bea uti ful , a nd too bea uti ful l y a pt, to pa rt wi th, a nd Mr Si l verberg l et me keep i t. It’s from Ma rvel l , “To hi s Coy Mi s tres s "— Our vegeta bl e l ove s houl d grow Va s ter tha n empi res , a nd more s l ow.... Li ke “Ni ne Li ves ,” thi s i s not a ps ychomyth but a regul a r s ci ence fic on s tory, devel oped not for a c on/a dventure, but ps ychol ogi ca l l y. Unl es s phys i ca l a c on reflects ps ychi c a c on, unl es s the deeds expres s the pers on, I get very bored wi th a dventure s tori es ; o en i t s eems tha t the more a c on there i s , the l es s ha ppens . Obvi ous l y my i nteres t i s i n wha t goes on i ns i de. Inner s pa ce a nd a l l tha t. We a l l ha ve fores ts i n our mi nds . Fores ts unexpl ored, unendi ng. Ea ch of us gets l os t i n the fores t, every ni ght, a l one. Hi dden i n the fol i a ge here i s a ny a ct of homa ge. The prota goni s t of “He Who Sha pes " by Roger Zel a zny, one of the fines t s ci ence fi cti on s tori es I know, i s ca l l ed Cha rl es Render. I chri s tened a s yndrome a fter hi m. It wa s onl y duri ng the ea rl i es t deca des of the Lea gue tha t the Ea rth s ent s hi ps out on the enormous l y l ong voya ges , beyond the pa l e, over the s ta rs a nd fa r a wa y. They were s eeki ng for worl ds whi ch ha d not been s eeded or s e l ed by the Founders on Ha i n, trul y a l i en worl ds . Al l the Known Worl ds went ba ck to the Ha i ni s h Ori gi n, a nd the Terra ns , ha vi ng been not onl y founded but s a l va ged by the Ha i ni s h, res ented thi s . They wa nted to get a wa y from the fa mi l y. They wa nted to find s omebody new. The Ha i ni s h, l i ke res omel y unders ta ndi ng pa rents , s upported thei r expl ora ons , a nd contri buted s hi ps a nd vol unteers , a s di d s evera l other worl ds of the Lea gue. Al l thes e vol unteers to the Extreme Survey crews s ha red one pecul i a ri ty: they were of uns ound mi nd. Wha t s a ne pers on, a er a l l , woul d go out to col l ect i nforma on tha t woul d not be recei ved for five or ten centuri es ? Cos mi c ma s s i nterference ha d not yet been el i mi na ted from the opera on of the a ns i bl e, a nd s o i ns ta nta neous communi ca on wa s rel i a bl e onl y wi thi n a ra nge of 120 l i ghtyea rs . The expl orers woul d be qui te i s ol a ted. And of cours e they ha d no i dea wha t they mi ght come ba ck to, i f they ca me ba ck. No norma l huma n bei ng who ha d experi enced me-s l i ppa ge of even a few deca des between Lea gue worl ds woul d vol unteer for a round tri p of centuri es . The Surveyors were es ca pi s ts , mi s fi ts . They were nuts . Ten of them cl i mbed a boa rd the ferry a t Smemi ng Port, a nd ma de va ryi ngl y i nept a empts to get to know one a nother duri ng the three da ys the ferry took ge ng to thei r s hi p, Gum. Gum i s a Ce a n ni ckna me, on the order of Ba by or Pet. There were two Ce a ns on the tea m, two Ha i ni s hmen, one Bel dene, a nd five Terra ns ; the Ce a n-bui l t s hi p wa s cha rtered by the Government of Ea rth. Her motl ey crew ca me a boa rd wri ggl i ng through the coupl i ng tube one by one l i ke a pprehens i ve s perma tozoa tryi ng to fer l i ze the uni vers e. The ferry l e , a nd the na vi ga tor put Gum underwa y. She fli ered for s ome hours on the edge of s pa ce a few hundred mi l l i on mi l es from Smemi ng Port, a nd then a bruptl y va ni s hed. When, a er 10 hours 29 mi nutes , or 256 yea rs , Gum rea ppea red i n norma l s pa ce, s he wa s s uppos ed to be i n the vi ci ni ty of Sta r KG-E-96651. Sure enough, there wa s the gol d pi nhea d of the s ta r. Somewhere wi thi n a four-hundred-mi l l i on-ki l ometer s phere there wa s a l s o a greeni s h pl a net. Worl d 4470, a s cha rted by a Ce a n ma pma ker. The s hi p now ha d to find the pl a net. Thi s wa s not qui te s o ea s y a s i t mi ght s ound, gi ven a four-hundred-mi l l i on-ki l ometer ha ys ta ck. And Gum coul dn’t ba t a bout i n pl a neta ry s pa ce a t nea r l i ghts peed; i f s he di d, s he a nd Sta r KG-E-96651 a nd Worl d 4470 mi ght a l l end up goi ng ba ng. She ha d to creep, 63

us i ng rocket propul s i on, a t a few hundred thous a nd mi l es a n hour. The Ma thema ci a n/Na vi ga tor, As na ni foi l , knew pre y wel l where the pl a net ought to be, a nd thought they mi ght ra i s e i t wi thi n ten E-da ys . Mea nwhi l e the members of the Survey tea m got to know one a nother s ti l l better. “I ca n’t s ta nd hi m,” s a i d Porl ock, the Ha rd Sci en s t (chemi s try, pl us phys i cs , a s tronomy, geol ogy, etc.), a nd l i l e bl obs of s pi l e a ppea red on hi s mus ta che. “ The ma n i s i ns a ne. I ca n’t i ma gi ne why he wa s pa s s ed a s fit to joi n a Survey tea m, unl es s thi s i s a del i bera te experi ment i n noncompa ti bi l i ty, pl a nned by the Authori ty, wi th us a s gui nea pi gs .” “We genera l l y us e ha ms ters a nd Ha i ni s h ghol es ,” s a i d Ma nnon, the So Sci en s t (ps ychol ogy, pl us ps ychi a try, a nthropol ogy, ecol ogy, etc.), pol i tel y; he wa s one of the Ha i ni s h men. “Ins tea d of gui nea pi gs . Wel l , you know, Mr Os den i s rea l l y a very ra re ca s e. In fa ct, he’s the firs t ful l y cured ca s e of Render’s Syndrome—a va ri ety of i nfa n l e a u s m whi ch wa s thought to be i ncura bl e. The grea t Terra n a na l ys t Ha mmergel d rea s oned tha t the ca us e of the a u s c condi on i n thi s ca s e i s a s upernorma l empa thi c ca pa ci ty, a nd devel oped a n a ppropri a te trea tment. Mr Os den i s the firs t pa ent to undergo tha t trea tment, i n fa ct he l i ved wi th Dr Ha mmergel d unti l he wa s ei ghteen. The thera py wa s compl etel y s ucces s ful . “Succes s ful ?” “Why, yes . He certa i nl y i s not a uti s ti c.” “No, he’s i ntol era bl e!” “Wel l , you s ee,” s a i d Ma nnon, ga zi ng mi l dl y a t the s a l i va -flecks on Porl ock’s mus ta che, “the norma l defens i ve-a ggres s i ve rea c on between s tra ngers mee ng —l et’s s a y you a nd Mr Os den jus t for exa mpl e—i s s omethi ng you’re s ca rcel y a wa re of; ha bi t, ma nners , i na en on get you pa s t i t; you’ve l ea rned to i gnore i t, to the poi nt where you mi ght even deny i t exi s ts . However, Mr Os den, bei ng a n empa th, feel s i t. Feel s hi s feel i ngs , a nd yours , a nd i s ha rd put to s a y whi ch i s whi ch. Let’s s a y tha t there’s a norma l el ement of hos l i ty towa rds a ny s tra nger i n your emo ona l rea c on to hi m when you meet hi m, pl us a s ponta neous di s l i ke of hi s l ooks , or cl othes , or ha nds ha ke—i t does n’t ma er wha t. He feel s tha t di s l i ke. As hi s a u s c defens e ha s been unl ea rned, he res orts to a n a ggres s i ve-defens e mecha ni s m, a res pons e i n ki nd to the a ggres s i on whi ch you ha ve unwi tti ngl y projected onto hi m.” Ma nnon went on for qui te a l ong ti me. “Nothi ng gi ves a ma n the ri ght to be s uch a ba s ta rd,” Porl ock s a i d. “He ca n’t tune us out?” a s ked Ha rfex, the Bi ol ogi s t, a nother Ha i ni s hma n. “It’s l i ke hea ri ng,” s a i d Ol l eroo, As s i s ta nt Ha rd Sci en s t, s toopi ng over to pa i nt her toena i l s wi th fluores cent l a cquer. “No eyel i ds on your ea rs . No Off s wi tch on empa thy. He hea rs our feel i ngs whether he wa nts to or not.” “Does he know wha t we’re thi nki ng?” a s ked Es kwa na , the Engi neer, l ooki ng round a t the others i n rea l drea d. “No,” Porl ock s na pped. “Empa thy’s not tel epa thy! Nobody’s got tel epa thy.” “Yet,” s a i d Ma nnon, wi th hi s l i l e s mi l e. “Jus t before I l e Ha i n there wa s a mos t i nteres ng report i n from one of the recentl y redi s covered worl ds , a hi l fer na med Roca nnon repor ng wha t a ppea rs to be a tea cha bl e tel epa thi c techni que exi s tent a mong a muta ted homi ni d ra ce; I onl y s a w a s ynops i s i n the HILF Bul l e n, but—” He went on. The others ha d l ea rned tha t they coul d ta l k whi l e Ma nnon went on ta l ki ng; he di d not s eem to mi nd, nor even to mi s s much of wha t they s a i d. “Then why does he ha te us ?” Es kwa na s a i d. “Nobody ha tes you, Ander honey,” s a i d Ol l eroo, da ubi ng Es kwa na ’s l e thumbna i l wi th fluores cent pi nk. The engi neer flus hed a nd s mi l ed va guel y. “He a cts a s i f he ha ted us ,” s a i d Ha i to, the Coordi na tor. She wa s a del i ca te-l ooki ng woma n of pure As i a n des cent, wi th a s urpri s i ng voi ce, hus ky, deep, a nd s o , l i ke a young bul l frog. “Why, i f he s uffers from our hos l i ty, does he i ncrea s e i t by cons ta nt a tta cks a nd i ns ul ts ? I ca n’t s a y I thi nk much of Dr Ha mmergel d’s cure, rea l l y, Ma nnon; a uti s m mi ght be prefera bl e....” She s topped. Os den ha d come i nto the ma i n ca bi n. He l ooked fla yed. Hi s s ki n wa s unna tura l l y whi te a nd thi n, s howi ng the cha nnel s of hi s bl ood l i ke a fa ded roa d ma p i n red a nd bl ue. Hi s Ada m’s a ppl e, the mus cl es tha t ci rcl ed hi s mouth, the bones a nd l i ga ments of hi s wri s ts a nd ha nds , a l l s tood out di s nctl y a s i f di s pl a yed for a n a na tomy l es s on. Hi s ha i r wa s pa l e rus t, l i ke l ong-dri ed bl ood. He ha d eyebrows a nd l a s hes , but they were vi s i bl e onl y i n certa i n l i ghts ; wha t one s a w wa s the bones of the eye s ockets , the vei ni ng of the l i ds , a nd the col orl es s eyes . They were not red eyes , for he wa s not rea l l y a n a l bi no, but they were not bl ue or grey; col ors ha d ca ncel l ed out i n Os den’s eyes , l ea vi ng a col d wa ter-l i ke cl a ri ty, i nfini tel y penetra bl e. He never l ooked di rectl y a t one. Hi s fa ce l a cked expres s i on, l i ke a n a na tomi ca l dra wi ng, or a s ki nned fa ce. “I a gree,” he s a i d i n a hi gh, ha rs h tenor, “ tha t even a u s c wi thdra wa l mi ght be prefera bl e to the s mog of chea p s econdha nd emo ons wi th whi ch you peopl e s urround me. Wha t a re you s wea ng ha te for now, Porl ock? Ca n’t s ta nd the s i ght of me? Go pra c ce s ome a uto-ero ci s m the wa y you were doi ng l a s t ni ght, i t i mproves your vi bes . Who the devi l moved my ta pes , here? Don’t touch my thi ngs , a ny of you. I won’t ha ve i t.” “Os den,” s a i d As na ni foi l i n hi s l a rge s l ow voi ce, “why a re you s uch a ba s ta rd?” Ander Es kwa na cowered a nd put hi s ha nds i n front of hi s fa ce. Conten on fri ghtened hi m. Ol l eroo l ooked up wi th a va ca nt yet ea ger expres s i on, the eterna l s pecta tor. “Why s houl dn’t I be?’’ s a i d Os den. He wa s not l ooki ng a t As na ni foi l , a nd wa s keepi ng phys i ca l l y a s fa r a wa y from a l l of them a s he coul d i n the crowded ca bi n. “None of you cons ti tute, i n yours el ves , a ny rea s on for my cha ngi ng my beha vi or.” 64

Ha rfex, a res erved a nd pa ent ma n, s a i d, “ The rea s on i s tha t we s ha l l be s pendi ng s evera l yea rs together. Li fe wi l l be be er for a l l of us i f—” “Ca n’t you unders ta nd tha t I don’t gi ve a da mn for a l l of you?” Os den s a i d, took up hi s mi crota pes , a nd went out. Es kwa na ha d s uddenl y gone to s l eep. As na ni foi l wa s dra wi ng s l i ps trea ms i n the a i r wi th hi s finger a nd mu eri ng the Ri tua l Pri mes . “You ca nnot expl a i n hi s pres ence on the tea m except a s a pl ot on the pa rt of the Terra n Authori ty. I s a w thi s a l mos t a t once. Thi s mi s s i on i s mea nt to fa i l ,” Ha rfex whi s pered to the Coordi na tor, gl a nci ng over hi s s houl der. Porl ock wa s fumbl i ng wi th hi s flybutton; there were tea rs i n hi s eyes . I di d tel l you they were a l l cra zy, but you thought I wa s exa ggera ti ng. Al l the s a me, they were not unjus fied. Extreme Surveyors expected to find thei r fel l ow tea m members i ntel l i gent, wel l -tra i ned, uns ta bl e, a nd pers ona l l y s ympa the c. They ha d to work together i n cl os e qua rters a nd na s ty pl a ces , a nd coul d expect one a nother’s pa ra noi a s , depres s i ons , ma ni a s , phobi a s a nd compul s i ons to be mi l d enough to a dmi t of good pers ona l rel a ons hi ps , a t l ea s t mos t of the me. Os den mi ght be i ntel l i gent, but hi s tra i ni ng wa s s ketchy a nd hi s pers ona l i ty wa s di s a s trous . He ha d been s ent onl y on a ccount of hi s s i ngul a r gi , the power of empa thy: properl y s pea ki ng, of wi de-ra nge bi oempa thi c recep vi ty. Hi s ta l ent wa s n’t s peci es - s peci fic; he coul d pi ck up emo on or s en ence from a nythi ng tha t fel t. He coul d s ha re l us t wi th a whi te ra t, pa i n wi th a s qua s hed cockroa ch, a nd phototropy wi th a moth. On a n a l i en worl d, the Authori ty ha d deci ded, i t woul d be us eful to know i f a nythi ng nea rby i s s en ent, a nd i f s o, wha t i ts feel i ngs towa rds you a re. Os den’s ti tl e wa s a new one: he wa s the tea m’s Sens or. “Wha t i s emo on, Os den?” Ha i to Tomi ko a s ked hi m one da y i n the ma i n ca bi n, tryi ng to ma ke s ome ra pport wi th hi m for once. “Wha t i s i t, exa ctl y, tha t you pi ck up wi th your empa thi c s ens i ti vi ty?” “Muck,” the ma n a ns wered i n hi s hi gh, exa s pera ted voi ce. “ The ps ychi c excreta of the a ni ma l ki ngdom. I wa de through your fa eces .” “I wa s tryi ng,” s he s a i d, “to l ea rn s ome fa cts .” She thought her tone wa s a dmi ra bl y ca l m. “You weren’t a er fa cts . You were tryi ng to get a t me. Wi th s ome fea r, s ome curi os i ty, a nd a grea t dea l of di s ta s te. The wa y you mi ght poke a dea d dog, to s ee the ma ggots cra wl . Wi l l you unders ta nd once a nd for a l l tha t I don’t wa nt to be got a t, tha t I wa nt to be l e a l one?” Hi s s ki n wa s mo l ed wi th red a nd vi ol et, hi s voi ce ha d ri s en. “Go rol l i n your own dung, you yel l ow bi tch!” he s houted a t her s i l ence. “Ca l m down,” s he s a i d, s l l qui etl y, but s he l e hi m a t once a nd went to her ca bi n. Of cours e he ha d been ri ght a bout her mo ves ; her ques on ha d been l a rgel y a pretext, a mere effort to i nteres t hi m. But wha t ha rm i n tha t? Di d not tha t effort i mpl y res pect for the other? At the moment of a s ki ng the ques on s he ha d fel t a t mos t a s l i ght di s trus t of hi m; s he ha d mos tl y fel t s orry for hi m, the poor a rroga nt venomous ba s ta rd, Mr No-Ski n a s Ol l eroo ca l l ed hi m. Wha t di d he expect, the wa y he a cted? Love? “I gues s he ca n’t s ta nd a nybody feel i ng s orry for hi m,” s a i d Ol l eroo, l yi ng on the l ower bunk, gi l di ng her ni ppl es . “Then he ca n’t form a ny huma n rel a ti ons hi p. Al l hi s Dr Ha mmergel d di d wa s turn a n a uti s m i ns i de out....” “Poor frot,” s a i d Ol l eroo. “Tomi ko, you don’t mi nd i f Ha rfex comes i n for a whi l e toni ght, do you?” “Ca n’t you go to hi s ca bi n? I’m s i ck of a l wa ys ha vi ng to s i t i n Ma i n wi th tha t da mned peel ed turni p.” “You do ha te hi m, don’t you? I gues s he feel s tha t. But I s l ept wi th Ha rfex l a s t ni ght too, a nd As na ni foi l mi ght get jea l ous , s i nce they s ha re the ca bi n. It woul d be ni cer here.” “Servi ce them both,” Tomi ko s a i d wi th the coa rs enes s of offended modes ty. Her Terra n s ubcul ture, the Ea s t As i a n, wa s a puri ta ni ca l one; s he ha d been brought up cha s te. “I onl y l i ke one a ni ght,” Ol l eroo repl i ed wi th i nnocent s ereni ty. Bel dene, the Ga rden Pl a net, ha d never di s covered cha s ty, or the wheel . “ Try Os den, then,” Tomi ko s a i d. Her pers ona l i ns ta bi l i ty wa s s el dom s o pl a i n a s now: a profound s el fdi s trus t ma ni fes ng i ts el f a s des tructi vi s m. She ha d vol unteered for thi s job beca us e there wa s , i n a l l proba bi l i ty, no us e i n doi ng i t. The l i ttl e Bel dene l ooked up, pa i ntbrus h i n ha nd, eyes wi de. “Tomi ko, tha t wa s a di rty thi ng to s a y.” “Why?” “It woul d be vi l e! I’m not a ttra cted to Os den!” “I di dn’t know i t ma ered to you,” Tomi ko s a i d i ndi fferentl y, though s he di d know. She got s ome pa pers together a nd l e the ca bi n, rema rki ng, “I hope you a nd Ha rfex or whoever i t i s fi ni s h by l a s t bel l ; I’m ti red.” Ol l eroo wa s cryi ng, tea rs dri ppi ng on her l i l e gi l ded ni ppl es . She wept ea s i l y. Tomi ko ha d not wept s i nce s he wa s ten yea rs ol d. It wa s not a ha ppy s hi p; but i t took a turn for the be er when As na ni foi l a nd hi s computers ra i s ed Worl d 4470. There i t l a y, a da rk-green jewel , l i ke truth a t the bo om of a gra vi ty wel l . As they wa tched the ja de di s c grow, a s ens e of mutua l i ty grew a mong them. Os den’s s el fis hnes s , hi s a ccura te cruel ty, s erved now to dra w the others together. “Perha ps ,” Ma nnon s a i d, “he wa s s ent a s a bea ng-gron. Wha t Terra ns ca l l a s ca pegoa t. Perha ps hi s i nfluence wi l l be good a er a l l .” And no one, s o ca reful were they to be ki nd to one a nother, di s a greed. They ca me i nto orbi t. There were no l i ghts on ni ght-s i de, on the con nents none of the l i nes a nd cl ots ma de by a ni ma l s who 65

bui l d. “No men,” Ha rfex murmured. “Of cours e not,” s na pped Os den, who ha d a vi ews creen to hi ms el f, a nd hi s hea d i ns i de a pol ythene ba g. He cl a i med tha t the pl a s c cut down on the empa thi c noi s e he recei ved from the others . “We’re two l i ghtcenturi es pa s t the l i mi t of the Ha i ni s h Expa ns i on, a nd outs i de tha t there a re no men. Anywhere. You don’t thi nk Crea on woul d ha ve ma de the s a me hi deous mi s ta ke twi ce?” No one wa s pa yi ng hi m much heed; they were l ooki ng wi th a ffec on a t tha t ja de i mmens i ty bel ow them, where there wa s l i fe, but not huma n l i fe. They were mi s fits a mong men, a nd wha t they s a w there wa s not des ol a on, but pea ce. Even Os den di d not l ook qui te s o expres s i onl es s a s us ua l ; he wa s frowni ng. Des cent i n fire on the s ea ; a i r reconna i s s a nce; l a ndi ng. A pl a i n of s omethi ng l i ke gra s s , thi ck, green, bowi ng s ta l ks , s urrounded the s hi p, brus hed a ga i ns t extended vi ewca mera s , s mea red the l ens es wi th a fi ne pol l en. “It l ooks l i ke a pure phytos phere,” Ha rfex s a i d. “Os den, do you pi ck up a nythi ng s enti ent?” They a l l turned to the Sens or. He ha d l e a ns wered s poken ques ti ons .

the s creen a nd wa s pouri ng hi ms el f a cup of tea . He di d not a ns wer. He s el dom

The chi nous ri gi di ty of mi l i ta ry di s ci pl i ne wa s qui te i na ppl i ca bl e to thes e tea ms of ma d s ci en s ts ; thei r cha i n of comma nd l a y s omewhere between pa rl i a menta ry procedure a nd peck-order, a nd woul d ha ve dri ven a regul a r s ervi ce officer out of hi s mi nd. By the i ns cruta bl e deci s i on of the Authori ty, however, Dr Ha i to Tomi ko ha d been gi ven the tl e of Coordi na tor, a nd s he now exerci s ed her preroga ti ve for the fi rs t ti me. “Mr Sens or Os den,” s he s a i d, “pl ea s e a ns wer Mr Ha rfex.” “How coul d I ‘pi ck up’ a nythi ng from outs i de,” Os den s a i d wi thout turni ng, “wi th the emo ons of ni ne neuro c homi ni ds pul l ul a ng a round me l i ke worms i n a ca n? When I ha ve a nythi ng to tel l you, I’l l tel l you. I’m a wa re of my res pons i bi l i ty a s Sens or. If you pres ume to gi ve me a n order a ga i n, however, Coordi na tor Ha i to, I’l l cons i der my res pons i bi l i ty voi d.” “Very wel l , Mr Sens or. I trus t no orders wi l l be needed henceforth.” Tomi ko’s bul l frog voi ce wa s ca l m, but Os den s eemed to fl i nch s l i ghtl y a s he s tood wi th hi s ba ck to her, a s i f the s urge of her s uppres s ed ra ncor ha d s truck hi m wi th phys i ca l force. The bi ol ogi s t’s hunch proved correct. When they bega n fiel d a na l ys es they found no a ni ma l s even a mong the mi crobi ota . Nobody here a te a nybody el s e. Al l l i fe-forms were photos ynthes i zi ng or s a propha gous , l i vi ng off l i ght or dea th, not off l i fe. Pl a nts : i nfini te pl a nts , not one s peci es known to the vi s i tors from the hous e of Ma n. Infini te s ha des a nd i ntens i es of green, vi ol et, purpl e, brown, red. Infini te s i l ences . Onl y the wi nd moved, s wa yi ng l ea ves a nd fronds , a wa rm s oughi ng wi nd l a den wi th s pores a nd pol l ens , bl owi ng the s weet pa l e-green dus t over pra i ri es of grea t gra s s es , hea ths tha t bore no hea ther, flowerl es s fores ts where no foot ha d ever wa l ked, no eye ha d ever l ooked. A wa rm, s a d worl d, s a d a nd s erene. The Surveyors , wa nderi ng l i ke pi cni ckers over s unny pl a i ns of vi ol et fil i ca l i formes , s poke s o l y to ea ch other. They knew thei r voi ces broke a s i l ence of a thous a nd mi l l i on yea rs , the s i l ence of wi nd a nd l ea ves , l ea ves a nd wi nd, bl owi ng a nd cea s i ng a nd bl owi ng a ga i n. They ta l ked s oftl y; but bei ng huma n, they ta l ked. “Poor ol d Os den,” s a i d Jenny Chong, Bi o a nd Tech, a s s he pi l oted a hel i jet on the North Pol a r Qua dra ng run. “Al l tha t fa ncy hi -fi s tuff i n hi s bra i n a nd nothi ng to recei ve. Wha t a bus t.” “He tol d me he ha tes pl a nts ,” Ol l eroo s a i d wi th a gi ggl e. “You’d thi nk he’d l i ke them, s i nce they don’t bother hi m l i ke we do.” “Ca n’t s a y I much l i ke thes e pl a nts mys el f,” s a i d Porl ock, l ooki ng down a t the purpl e undul a ons of the North Ci rcumpol a r Fores t. “Al l the s a me. No mi nd. No cha nge. A ma n a l one i n i t woul d go ri ght off hi s hea d.” “But i t’s a l l a l i ve,” Jenny Chong s a i d. “And i f i t l i ves , Os den ha tes i t.” “He’s not rea l l y s o ba d,” Ol l eroo s a i d, ma gna ni mous . Porl ock l ooked a t her s i del ong a nd a s ked, “You ever s l ept wi th hi m, Ol l eroo?” Ol l eroo burs t i nto tea rs a nd cri ed, “You Terra ns a re obs cene!” “No s he ha s n’t,” Jenny Chong s a i d, prompt to defend. “Ha ve you, Porl ock?” The chemi s t l a ughed unea s i l y: ha , ha , ha . Fl ecks of s pi ttl e a ppea red on hi s mus ta che. “Os den ca n’t bea r to be touched,” Ol l eroo s a i d s ha ki l y. “I jus t brus hed a ga i ns t hi m once by a cci dent a nd he knocked me off l i ke I wa s s ome s ort of di rty... thi ng. We’re a l l jus t thi ngs , to hi m.” “He’s evi l ,” Porl ock s a i d i n a s tra i ned voi ce, s ta rtl i ng the two women. “He’l l end up s ha eri ng thi s tea m, s a bota gi ng i t, one wa y or a nother. Ma rk my works . He’s not fi t to l i ve wi th other peopl e!” They l a nded on the North Pol e. A mi dni ght s un s moul dered over l ow hi l l s . Short, dry, greeni s h-pi nk bryoform gra s s es s tretched a wa y i n every di rec on, whi ch wa s a l l one di rec on, s outh. Subdued by the i ncredi bl e s i l ence, the three Surveyors s et up thei r i ns truments a nd s et to work, three vi rus es twi tchi ng mi nutel y on the hi de of a n unmovi ng gi a nt. Nobody a s ked Os den a l ong on runs a s pi l ot or photogra pher or recorder, a nd he never vol unteered, s o he s el dom l e ba s e ca mp. He ra n Ha rfex’s bota ni ca l ta xonomi c da ta through the ons hi p computers , a nd s erved a s a s s i s ta nt to Es kwa na , whos e job here wa s ma i nl y repa i r a nd ma i ntena nce. Es kwa na ha d begun to s l eep a grea t dea l , twenty-five hours or more out of the thi rty66

two-hour da y, droppi ng off i n the mi ddl e of repa i ri ng a ra di o or checki ng the gui da nce ci rcui ts of a hel i jet. The Coordi na tor s ta yed a t ba s e one da y to obs erve. No one el s e wa s home except Pos wet To, who wa s s ubject to epi l ep c fits ; Ma nnon ha d pl ugged her i nto a thera py-ci rcui t toda y i n a s ta te of preven ve ca ta toni a . Tomi ko s poke reports i nto the s tora ge ba nks , a nd kept a n eye on Os den a nd Es kwa na . Two hours pa s s ed. “You mi ght wa nt to us e the 860 mi crowa l does i n s ea l i ng tha t connecti on,” Es kwa na s a i d i n hi s s oft, hes i ta nt voi ce. “Obvi ous l y!” “Sorry. I jus t s a w you ha d the 840’s there—” “And wi l l repl a ce them when I ta ke the 860’s out. When I don’t know how to proceed, Engi neer, I’l l a s k your a dvi ce.” After a mi nute Tomi ko l ooked round. Sure enough, there wa s Es kwa na s ound a s l eep, hea d on the ta bl e, thumb i n hi s mouth. “Os den.” The whi te fa ce di d not turn, he di d not s pea k, but conveyed i mpa ti entl y tha t he wa s l i s teni ng. “You ca n’t be una wa re of Es kwa na ’s vul nera bi l i ty.” “I a m not res pons i bl e for hi s ps ychopa thi c rea c ons .” “But you a re res pons i bl e for your own. Es kwa na i s es s en a l to our work here, a nd you’re not. If you ca n’t control your hos l i ty, you mus t a voi d hi m a l together.” Os den put down hi s tool s a nd s tood up. “Wi th pl ea s ure!” he s a i d i n hi s vi ndi c ve, s cra pi ng voi ce. “You coul d not pos s i bl y i ma gi ne wha t i t’s l i ke to experi ence Es kwa na ’s i rra ti ona l terrors . To ha ve to s ha re hi s horri bl e cowa rdi ce, to ha ve to cri nge wi th hi m a t everythi ng!” “Are you tryi ng to jus fy your cruel ty towa rds hi m? I thought you ha d more s el f-res pect.” Tomi ko found hers el f s ha ki ng wi th s pi te. “If your empa thi c power rea l l y ma kes you s ha re Ander’s mi s ery, why does i t never i nduce the l ea s t compa s s i on i n you?” “Compa s s i on,” Os den s a i d. “Compa s s i on. Wha t do you know a bout compa s s i on?” She s ta red a t hi m, but he woul d not l ook a t her. “Woul d you l i ke me to verba l i ze your pres ent emo ona l a ffect rega rdi ng mys el f?” he s a i d. “I ca n do s o more preci s el y tha n you ca n. I’m tra i ned to a na l yze s uch res pons es a s I recei ve them. And I do recei ve them.” “But how ca n you expect me to feel ki ndl y towa rds you when you beha ve a s you do?” “Wha t does i t ma er how I beha ve, you s tupi d s ow, do you thi nk i t ma kes a ny di fference? Do you thi nk the a vera ge huma n i s a wel l of l ovi ng-ki ndnes s ? My choi ce i s to be ha ted or to be des pi s ed. Not bei ng a woma n or a cowa rd, I prefer to be ha ted.” “Tha t’s rot. Sel f-pi ty. Every ma n ha s —” “But I a m not a ma n,” Os den s a i d. “There a re a l l of you. And there i s mys el f. I a m one.” Awed by tha t gl i mps e of a bys ma l s ol i ps i s m, s he kept s i l ent a whi l e; fina l l y s he s a i d wi th nei ther s pi te nor pi ty, cl i ni ca l l y, “You coul d ki l l yours el f, Os den.” “ Tha t’s your wa y, Ha i to,” he jeered. “I’m not depres s i ve, a nd s eppuku i s n’t my bi t. Wha t do you wa nt me to do here?” “Lea ve. Spa re yours el f a nd us . Ta ke the a i rca r a nd a da ta -feeder a nd go do a s peci es count. In the fores t; Ha rfex ha s n’t even s ta rted the fores ts yet. Ta ke a hundred-s qua re-meter fores ted a rea , a nywhere i ns i de ra di o ra nge. But outs i de empa thy ra nge. Report i n a t 8 a nd 24 o’cl ock da i l y.” Os den went, a nd nothi ng wa s hea rd from hi m for five da ys but l a coni c a l l -wel l s i gna l s twi ce da i l y. The mood a t ba s e ca mp cha nged l i ke a s ta ge-s et. Es kwa na s ta yed a wa ke up to ei ghteen hours a da y. Pos wet To got out her s tel l a r l ute a nd cha nted the cel es a l ha rmoni es (mus i c ha d dri ven Os den i nto a frenzy). Ma nnon, Ha rfex, Jenny Chong, a nd Tomi ko a l l went off tra nqui l i zers . Porl ock di s l l ed s omethi ng i n hi s l a bora tory a nd dra nk i t a l l by hi ms el f. He ha d a ha ngover. As na ni foi l a nd Pos wet To hel d a n a l l -ni ght Numeri ca l Epi pha ny, tha t mys ca l orgy of hi gher ma thema cs whi ch i s the chi ef pl ea s ure of the rel i gi ous Ce a n s oul . Ol l eroo s l ept wi th everybody. Work went wel l . The Ha rd Sci en s t ca me towa rds ba s e a t a run, l a bori ng through the hi gh, fles hy s ta l ks of the gra mi ni formes . “Somethi ng—i n the fores t—” Hi s eyes bul ged, he pa nted, hi s mus ta che a nd fingers trembl ed. “Somethi ng bi g. Movi ng, behi nd me. I wa s pu ng i n a benchma rk, bendi ng down. It ca me a t me. As i f i t wa s s wi ngi ng down out of the trees . Behi nd me.” He s ta red a t the others wi th the opa que eyes of terror or exha us ti on. “Si t down, Porl ock. Ta ke i t ea s y. Now wa i t, go through thi s a ga i n. You s a w s omethi ng—” “Not cl ea rl y. Jus t the movement. Purpos i ve. A—a n —I don’t know wha t i t coul d ha ve been. Somethi ng s el f-movi ng. In the trees , the a rbori formes , wha tever you ca l l ’em. At the edge of the woods .” Ha rfex l ooked gri m. “ There i s nothi ng here tha t coul d a a ck you, Porl ock. There a re not even mi cro-zoa . There coul d not be a l a rge a ni ma l .” “Coul d you pos s i bl y ha ve s een a n epi phyte drop s uddenl y, a vi ne come l oos e behi nd you?” “No,” Porl ock s a i d. “It wa s comi ng down a t me, through the bra nches , fa s t. When I turned i t took off a ga i n, a wa y a nd upwa rd. It ma de a noi s e, a s ort of cra s hi ng. If i t wa s n’t a n a ni ma l , God knows wha t i t coul d ha ve been! It wa s bi g—a s bi g a s a ma n, a t l ea s t. Ma ybe a reddi s h col or. I coul dn’t s ee, I’m not s ure.” 67

“It wa s Os den,” s a i d Jenny Chong, “doi ng a Ta rza n a ct.” She gi ggl ed nervous l y, a nd Tomi ko repres s ed a wi l d feckl es s l a ugh. But Ha rfex wa s not s mi l i ng. “One gets unea s y under the a rbori forms ,” he s a i d i n hi s pol i te, repres s ed voi ce. “I’ve no ced tha t. Indeed tha t ma y be why I’ve put off worki ng i n the fores ts . There’s a hypno c qua l i ty i n the col ors a nd s pa ci ng of the s tems a nd bra nches , es peci a l l y the hel i ca l l y-a rra nged ones ; a nd the s pore-throwers grow s o regul a rl y s pa ced tha t i t s eems unna tura l . I find i t qui te di s a greea bl e, s ubjec vel y s pea ki ng. I wonder i f a s tronger effect of tha t s ort mi ghtn’t ha ve produced a ha l l uci na on... ?” Porl ock s hook hi s hea d. He wet hi s l i ps . “It wa s there,” he s a i d. “Somethi ng. Movi ng wi th purpos e. Tryi ng to a tta ck me from behi nd.” When Os den ca l l ed i n, punctua l a s a l wa ys , a t 24 o’cl ock tha t ni ght, Ha rfex tol d hi m Porl ock’s report. “Ha ve you come on a nythi ng a t a l l , Mr Os den, tha t coul d s ubs ta nti a te Mr Porl ock’s i mpres s i on of a moti l e, s enti ent l i fe-form, i n the fores t?” Ss s s , the ra di o s a i d s a rdoni ca l l y. “No. Bul l s hi t,” s a i d Os den’s unpl ea s a nt voi ce. “You’ve been a ctua l l y i ns i de the fores t l onger tha n a ny of us ,” Ha rfex s a i d wi th unmi ga bl e pol i tenes s . “Do you a gree wi th my i mpres s i on tha t the fores t a mbi a nce ha s a ra ther troubl i ng a nd pos s i bl y ha l l uci nogeni c effect on the percepti ons ?” Ss s s . “I’l l a gree tha t Porl ock’s percepti ons a re ea s i l y troubl ed. Keep hi m i n hi s l a b, he’l l do l es s ha rm. Anythi ng el s e?” “Not a t pres ent,” Ha rfex s a i d, a nd Os den cut off. Nobody coul d credi t Porl ock’s s tory, a nd nobody coul d di s credi t i t. He wa s pos i ve tha t s omethi ng, s omethi ng bi g, ha d tri ed to a a ck hi m by s urpri s e. It wa s ha rd to deny thi s , for they were on a n a l i en worl d, a nd everyone who ha d entered the fores t ha d fel t a certa i n chi l l a nd forebodi ng under the “trees .” (“Ca l l them trees , certa i nl y,” Ha rfex ha d s a i d. “ They rea l l y a re the s a me thi ng, onl y, of cours e, a l together di fferent.”) They a greed tha t they ha d fel t unea s y, or ha d ha d the s ens e tha t s omethi ng wa s wa tchi ng them from behi nd. “We’ve got to cl ea r thi s up,” Porl ock s a i d, a nd he a s ked to be s ent a s a tempora ry Bi ol ogi s t’s Ai de, l i ke Os den, i nto the fores t to expl ore a nd obs erve. Ol l eroo a nd Jenny Chong vol unteered i f they coul d go a s a pa i r. Ha rfex s ent them a l l off i nto the fores t nea r whi ch they were enca mped, a va s t tra ct coveri ng four-fi hs of Con nent D. He forba de s i de-a rms . They were not to go outs i de a fi y-mi l e ha l f-ci rcl e, whi ch i ncl uded Os den’s current s i te. They a l l reported i n twi ce da i l y, for three da ys . Porl ock reported a gl i mps e of wha t s eemed to be a l a rge s emi -erect s ha pe movi ng through the trees a cros s the ri ver; Ol l eroo wa s s ure s he ha d hea rd s omethi ng movi ng nea r the tent, the s econd ni ght. “There a re no a ni ma l s on thi s pl a net,” Ha rfex s a i d, dogged. Then Os den mi s s ed hi s morni ng ca l l . Tomi ko wa i ted l es s tha n a n hour, then flew wi th Ha rfex to the a rea where Os den ha d reported hi ms el f the ni ght before. But a s the hel i jet hovered over the s ea of purpl i s h l ea ves , i l l i mi ta bl e, i mpenetra bl e, s he fel t a pa ni c des pa i r. “How ca n we find hi m i n thi s ?” “He reported l a ndi ng on the ri verba nk. Fi nd the a i r-ca r; he’l l be ca mped nea r i t, a nd he ca n’t ha ve gone fa r from hi s ca mp. Speci es -counti ng i s s l ow work. There’s the ri ver.” “There’s hi s ca r,” Tomi ko s a i d, ca tchi ng the bri ght forei gn gl i nt a mong the vegeta bl e col ors a nd s ha dows . “Here goes , then.” She put the s hi p i n hover a nd pi tched out the l a dder. She a nd Ha rfex des cended. The s ea of l i fe cl os ed over thei r hea ds . As her feet touched the fores t floor, s he uns na pped the fla p of her hol s ter; then gl a nci ng a t Ha rfex, who wa s una rmed, s he l e the gun untouched. But her ha nd kept comi ng ba ck up to i t. There wa s no s ound a t a l l , a s s oon a s they were a few meters a wa y from the s l ow, brown ri ver, a nd the l i ght wa s di m. Grea t bol es s tood wel l a pa rt, a l mos t regul a rl y, a l mos t a l i ke; they were s o s ki nned, s ome a ppea ri ng s mooth a nd others s pongy, grey or greeni s h-brown or brown, twi ned wi th ca bl el i ke creepers a nd fes tooned wi th epi phytes , extendi ng ri gi d, enta ngl ed a rmful s of bi g, s a ucer-s ha ped, da rk l ea ves tha t formed a roof-l a yer twenty to thi rty meters thi ck. The ground underfoot wa s s pri ngy a s a ma res s , every i nch of i t kno ed wi th roots a nd peppered wi th s ma l l , fl es hy-l ea ved growths . “Here’s hi s tent,” Tomi ko s a i d, cowed a t the s ound of her voi ce i n tha t huge communi ty of the voi cel es s . In the tent wa s Os den’s s l eepi ng ba g, a coupl e of books , a box of ra ons . We s houl d be ca l l i ng, s hou ng for hi m, s he thought, but di d not even s ugges t i t; nor di d Ha rfex. They ci rcl ed out from the tent, ca reful to keep ea ch other i n s i ght through the thi ck-s ta ndi ng pres ences , the crowdi ng gl oom. She s tumbl ed over Os den’s body, not thi rty meters from the tent, l ed to i t by the whi s h gl ea m of a dropped notebook. He l a y fa ce down between two huge-rooted trees . Hi s hea d a nd ha nds were covered wi th bl ood, s ome dri ed, s ome s ti l l oozi ng red. Ha rfex a ppea red bes i de her, hi s pa l e Ha i ni s h compl exi on qui te green i n the dus k. “Dea d?” “No. He’s been s truck. Bea ten. From behi nd.” Tomi ko’s fingers fel t over the bl oody s kul l a nd templ es a nd na pe. “A wea pon or a tool ... I don’t fi nd a fra cture.” As s he turned Os den’s body over s o they coul d l i hi m, hi s eyes opened. She wa s hol di ng hi m, bendi ng cl os e to hi s fa ce. Hi s pa l e l i ps wri thed. A dea thl y fea r ca me i nto her. She s crea med a l oud two or three mes a nd tri ed to run a wa y, s ha mbl i ng a nd s tumbl i ng i nto the terri bl e dus k. Ha rfex ca ught her, a nd a t hi s touch a nd the s ound of hi s voi ce, her pa ni c decrea s ed. “Wha t i s i t? Wha t i s i t?” he wa s s a yi ng. “I don’t know,” s he s obbed. Her hea rtbea t s l l s hook her, a nd s he coul d not s ee cl ea rl y. “ The fea r—the... I pa ni cked. When I s a w hi s eyes .” “We’re both nervous . I don’t unders ta nd thi s —” 68

“I’m a l l ri ght now, come on, we’ve got to get hi m under ca re.” Both worki ng wi th s ens el es s ha s te, they l ugged Os den to the ri vers i de a nd ha ul ed hi m up on a rope under hi s a rmpi ts ; he da ngl ed l i ke a s a ck, twi s ng a l i l e, over the gl u nous da rk s ea of l ea ves . They pul l ed hi m i nto the hel i jet a nd took off. Wi thi n a mi nute they were over open pra i ri e. Tomi ko l ocked onto the homi ng bea m. She drew a deep brea th, a nd her eyes met Ha rfex’s . “I wa s s o terri fi ed I a l mos t fa i nted. I ha ve never done tha t.” “I wa s ... unrea s ona bl y fri ghtened a l s o,” s a i d the Ha i ni s hma n, a nd i ndeed he l ooked a ged a nd s ha ken. “Not s o ba dl y a s you. But a s unrea s ona bl y.” “It wa s when I wa s i n conta ct wi th hi m, hol di ng hi m. He s eemed to be cons ci ous for a moment.” “Empa thy?... I hope he ca n tel l us wha t a tta cked hi m.” Os den, l i ke a broken dummy covered wi th bl ood a nd mud, ha l f l a y a s they ha d bundl ed hi m i nto the rea r s ea ts i n thei r fra n c urgency to get out of the fores t. More pa ni c met thei r a rri va l a t ba s e. The i neffec ve bruta l i ty of the a s s a ul t wa s s i ni s ter a nd bewi l deri ng. Si nce Ha rfex s tubbornl y deni ed a ny pos s i bi l i ty of a ni ma l l i fe they bega n s pecul a ng a bout s en ent pl a nts , vegeta bl e mons ters , ps ychi c projecti ons . Jenny Chong’s l a tent phobi a rea s s erted i ts el f a nd s he coul d ta l k a bout nothi ng except the Da rk Egos whi ch fol l owed peopl e a round behi nd thei r ba cks . She a nd Ol l eroo a nd Porl ock ha d been s ummoned ba ck to ba s e; a nd nobody wa s much i ncl i ned to go outs i de. Os den ha d l os t a good dea l of bl ood duri ng the three or four hours he ha d l a i n a l one, a nd concus s i on a nd s evere contus i ons ha d put hi m i n s hock a nd s emi -coma . As he ca me out of thi s a nd bega n runni ng a l ow fever he ca l l ed s evera l mes for “Doctor,” i n a pl a i n ve voi ce: “Doctor Ha mmergel d...” When he rega i ned ful l cons ci ous nes s , two of thos e l ong da ys l a ter, Tomi ko ca l l ed Ha rfex i nto hi s cubi cl e. “Os den: ca n you tel l us wha t a tta cked you?” The pa l e eyes fl i ckered pa s t Ha rfex’s fa ce. “You were a a cked,” Tomi ko s a i d gentl y. The s hi y ga ze wa s ha teful l y fa mi l i a r, but s he wa s a phys i ci a n, protec ve of the hurt. “You ma y not remember i t yet. Somethi ng a a cked you. You were i n the fores t—” “Ah!” he cri ed out, hi s eyes growi ng bri ght a nd hi s fea tures contorti ng. “The fores t—i n the fores t—” “Wha t’s i n the fores t?” He ga s ped for brea th. A l ook of cl ea rer cons ci ous nes s ca me i nto hi s fa ce. After a whi l e he s a i d, “I don’t know.” “Di d you s ee wha t a tta cked you?” Ha rfex a s ked. “I don’t know.” “You remember i t now.” “I don’t know.” “Al l our l i ves ma y depend on thi s . You mus t tel l us wha t you s a w!” “I don’t know,” Os den s a i d, s obbi ng wi th wea knes s . He wa s too wea k to hi de the fa ct tha t he wa s hi di ng the a ns wer, yet he woul d not s a y i t. Porl ock, nea rby, wa s chewi ng hi s pepper-col ored mus ta che a s he tri ed to hea r wha t wa s goi ng on i n the cubi cl e. Ha rfex l ea ned over Os den a nd s a i d, “You wi l l tel l us —” Tomi ko ha d to i nterfere bodi l y. Ha rfex control l ed hi ms el f wi th a n effort tha t wa s pa i nful to s ee. He went off s i l entl y to hi s cubi cl e, where no doubt he took a doubl e or tri pl e dos e of tra nqui l l i zers . The other men a nd women, s ca ered a bout the bi g fra i l bui l di ng, a l ong ma i n ha l l a nd ten s l eepi ng-cubi cl es , s a i d nothi ng, but l ooked depres s ed a nd edgy. Os den, a s a l wa ys , even now, ha d them a l l a t hi s mercy. Tomi ko l ooked down a t hi m wi th a rus h of ha tred tha t burned i n her throa t l i ke bi l e. Thi s mons trous ego s m tha t fed i ts el f on others ’ emo ons , thi s a bs ol ute s el fis hnes s , wa s wors e tha n a ny hi deous deformi ty of the fles h. Li ke a congeni ta l mons ter, he s houl d not ha ve l i ved. Shoul d not be a l i ve. Shoul d ha ve di ed. Why ha d hi s hea d not been s pl i t open? As he l a y fla t a nd whi te, hi s ha nds hel pl es s a t hi s s i des , hi s col orl es s eyes were wi de open, a nd there were tea rs runni ng from the comers . He tri ed to fli nch a wa y. “Don’t,” he s a i d i n a wea k hoa rs e voi ce, a nd tri ed to ra i s e hi s ha nds to protect hi s hea d. “Don’t!” She s a t down on the fol di ng-s tool bes i de the cot, a nd a er a whi l e put her ha nd on hi s . He tri ed to pul l a wa y, but l a cked the s trength. A l ong s i l ence fel l between them. “Os den,” s he murmured, “I’m s orry. I’m very s orry. I wi l l you wel l . Let me wi l l you wel l , Os den. I don’t wa nt to hurt you. Li s ten, I do s ee now. It wa s one of us . Tha t’s ri ght, i s n’t i t. No, don’t a ns wer, onl y tel l me i f I’m wrong; but I’m not.... Of cours e there a re a ni ma l s on thi s pl a net. Ten of them. I don’t ca re who i t wa s . It does n’t ma er, does i t. It coul d ha ve been me, jus t now. I rea l i ze tha t. I di dn’t unders ta nd how i t i s , Os den. You ca n’t s ee how di fficul t i t i s for us to unders ta nd.... But l i s ten. If i t were l ove, i ns tea d of ha te a nd fea r... Is i t never l ove?” “No.” “Why not? Why s houl d i t never be? Are huma n bei ngs a l l s o wea k? Tha t i s terri bl e. Never mi nd, never mi nd, don’t worry. Keep 69

s ti l l . At l ea s t ri ght now i t i s n’t ha te, i s i t? Sympa thy a t l ea s t, concern, wel l -wi s hi ng. You do feel tha t, Os den? Is i t wha t you feel ?” “Among... other thi ngs ,” he s a i d, a l mos t i na udi bl y. “Noi s e from my s ubcons ci ous , I s uppos e. And everybody el s e i n the room... Li s ten, when we found you there i n the fores t, when I tri ed to turn you over, you pa rtl y wa kened, a nd I fel t a horror of you. I wa s i ns a ne wi th fea r for a mi nute. Wa s tha t your fea r of me I fel t?” “No.” Her ha nd wa s s l l on hi s , a nd he wa s qui te rel a xed, s i nki ng towa rds s l eep, l i ke a ma n i n pa i n who ha s been gi ven rel i ef from pa i n. “The fores t,” he muttered; s he coul d ba rel y unders ta nd hi m. “Afra i d.” She pres s ed hi m no further, but kept her ha nd on hi s a nd wa tched hi m go to s l eep. She knew wha t s he fel t, a nd wha t therefore he mus t feel . She wa s confident of i t: there i s onl y one emo on, or s ta te of bei ng, tha t ca n thus whol l y revers e i ts el f, pol a ri ze, wi thi n one moment. In Grea t Ha i ni s h i ndeed there i s one word, onta , for l ove a nd for ha te. She wa s not i n l ove wi th Os den, of cours e, tha t wa s a nother ke l e of fis h. Wha t s he fel t for hi m wa s onta , pol a ri zed ha te. She hel d hi s ha nd a nd the current flowed between them, the tremendous el ectri ci ty of touch, whi ch he ha d a l wa ys drea ded. As he s l ept the ri ng of a na tomy-cha rt mus cl es a round hi s mouth rel a xed, a nd Tomi ko s a w on hi s fa ce wha t none of them ha d ever s een, very fa i nt, a s mi l e. It fa ded. He s l ept on. He wa s tough; next da y he wa s s i ng up, a nd hungry. Ha rfex wi s hed to i nterroga te hi m, but Tomi ko put hi m off. She hung a s heet of pol ythene over the cubi cl e door, a s Os den hi ms el f ha d o en done. “Does i t a ctua l l y cut down your empa thi c recepti on?” s he a s ked, a nd he repl i ed, i n the dry, ca uti ous tone they were now us i ng to ea ch other, “No.” “Jus t a wa rni ng, then.” “Pa rtl y. More fa i th-hea l i ng. Dr Ha mmergel d thought i t worked.... Ma ybe i t does , a l i ttl e.” There ha d been l ove, once. A terri fied chi l d, s uffoca ng i n the da l rus h a nd ba eri ng of the huge emo ons of a dul ts , a drowni ng chi l d, s a ved by one ma n. Ta ught to brea the, to l i ve, by one ma n. Gi ven everythi ng, a l l protec on a nd l ove, by one ma n. Fa ther/Mother/God: no other. “Is he s l l a l i ve?” Tomi ko a s ked, thi nki ng of Os den’s i ncredi bl e l onel i nes s , a nd the s tra nge cruel ty of the grea t doctors . She wa s s hocked when s he hea rd hi s forced, nny l a ugh. “He di ed a t l ea s t two a nd a ha l f centuri es a go,” Os den s a i d. “Do you forget where we a re, Coordi na tor? We’ve a l l l eft our l i ttl e fa mi l i es behi nd....” Outs i de the pol ythene curta i n the ei ght other huma n bei ngs on Worl d 4470 moved va guel y. Thei r voi ces were l ow a nd s tra i ned. Es kwa na s l ept; Pos wet To wa s i n thera py; Jenny Chong wa s tryi ng to ri g l i ghts i n her cubi cl e s o tha t s he woul dn’t ca s t a s ha dow. “ They’re a l l s ca red,” Tomi ko s a i d, s ca red. “ They’ve a l l got thes e i dea s a bout wha t a a cked you. A s ort of a pe-pota to, a gi a nt fa nged s pi na ch, I don’t know.... Even Ha rfex. You ma y be ri ght not to force them to s ee. Tha t woul d be wors e, to l os e confidence i n one a nother. But why a re we a l l s o s ha ky, una bl e to fa ce the fa ct, goi ng to pi eces s o ea s i l y? Are we rea l l y a l l i ns a ne?” “We’l l s oon be more s o.” “Why?” “There i s s omethi ng.” He cl os ed hi s mouth, the mus cl es of hi s l i ps s hood out ri gi d. “Somethi ng s enti ent?” “A s enti ence.” “In the fores t?” He nodded. “Wha t i s i t, then—?” “ The fea r.” He bega n to l ook s tra i ned a ga i n, a nd moved res tl es s l y. “When I fel l , there, you know, I di dn’t l os e cons ci ous nes s a t once. Or I kept rega i ni ng i t. I don’t know. It wa s more l i ke bei ng pa ra l yzed.” “You were.” “I wa s on the ground. I coul dn’t get up. My fa ce wa s i n the di rt, i n tha t s o l ea f mol d. It wa s i n my nos tri l s a nd eyes . I coul dn’t move. Coul dn’t s ee. As i f I wa s i n the ground. Sunk i nto i t, pa rt of i t. I knew I wa s between two trees even though I never s a w them. I s uppos e I coul d feel the roots . Bel ow me i n the ground, down under the ground. My ha nds were bl oody, I coul d feel tha t, a nd the bl ood ma de the di rt a round my fa ce s cky. I fel t the fea r. It kept growi ng. As i f they’d fina l l y known I wa s there, l yi ng on them there, under them, a mong them, the thi ng they fea red, a nd yet pa rt of thei r fea r i ts el f. I coul dn’t s top s endi ng the fea r ba ck, a nd i t kept growi ng, a nd I coul dn’t move, I coul dn’t get a wa y. I woul d pa s s out, I thi nk, a nd then the fea r woul d bri ng me to a ga i n, a nd I s ti l l coul dn’t move. Any more tha n they ca n.” Tomi ko fel t the col d s ti rri ng of her ha i r, the rea dyi ng of the a ppa ra tus of terror. “They: who a re they, Os den?” “They, i t—I don’t know. The fea r.” “Wha t i s he ta l ki ng a bout?” Ha rfex dema nded when Tomi ko reported thi s convers a on. She woul d not l et Ha rfex ques on Os den yet, feel i ng tha t s he mus t protect Os den from the ons l a ught of the Ha i ni s hma n’s powerful , over-repres s ed emo ons . Unfortuna tel y thi s fuel ed the s l ow fire of pa ra noi d a nxi ety tha t burned i n poor Ha rfex, a nd he thought s he a nd Os den were i n l ea gue, hi di ng s ome fa ct of grea t i mporta nce or peri l from the res t of the tea m.

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“It’s l i ke the bl i nd ma n tryi ng to des cri be the el epha nt. Os den ha s n’t s een or hea rd the... the s en ence, a ny more tha n we ha ve.” “But he’s fel t i t, my dea r Ha i to,” Ha rfex s a i d wi th jus t-s uppres s ed ra ge. “Not empha thi ca l l y. On hi s s kul l . It ca me a nd knocked hi m down a nd bea t hi m wi th a bl unt i ns trument. Di d he not ca tch one gl i mps e of i t?” “Wha t woul d he ha ve s een, Ha rfex?” Tomi ko a s ked, but he woul d not hea r her mea ni ngful tone; even he ha d bl ocked out tha t comprehens i on. Wha t one fea rs i s a l i en. The murderer i s a n outs i der, a forei gner, not one of us . The evi l i s not i n me! “ The firs t bl ow knocked hi m pre y wel l out,” Tomi ko s a i d a l i l e wea ri l y, “he di dn’t s ee a nythi ng. But when he ca me to a ga i n, a l one i n the fores t, he fel t a grea t fea r. Not hi s own fea r, a n empa thi c effect. He i s certa i n of tha t. And certa i n i t wa s nothi ng pi cked up from a ny of us . So tha t evi dentl y the na ti ve l i fe-forms a re not a l l i ns enti ent.” Ha rfex l ooked a t her a moment, gri m. “You’re tryi ng to fri ghten me, Ha i to. I do not unders ta nd your mo ves .” He got up a nd went off to hi s l a bora tory ta bl e, wa l ki ng s l owl y a nd s ti ffl y, l i ke a ma n of ei ghty not of forty. She l ooked round a t the others . She fel t s ome des pera on. Her new, fra gi l e, a nd profound i nterdependence wi th Os den ga ve her, s he wa s wel l a wa re, s ome a dded s trength. But i f even Ha rfex coul d not keep hi s hea d, who of the others woul d? Porl ock a nd Es kwa na were s hut i n thei r cubi cl es , the others were a l l worki ng or bus y wi th s omethi ng. There wa s s omethi ng queer a bout thei r pos i ons . For a whi l e the Coordi na tor coul d not tel l wha t i t wa s , then s he s a w tha t they were a l l s i ng fa ci ng the nea rby fores t. Pl a yi ng ches s wi th As na ni foi l , Ol l eroo ha d edged her cha i r a round unti l i t wa s a l mos t bes i de hi s . She went to Ma nnon, who wa s di s s ec ng a ta ngl e of s pi dery brown roots , a nd tol d hi m to l ook for the pa ern-puzzl e. He s a w i t a t once, a nd s a i d wi th unus ua l brevi ty, “Keepi ng a n eye on the enemy.” “Wha t enemy? Wha t do you feel , Ma nnon?” She ha d a s udden hope i n hi m a s a ps ychol ogi s t, on thi s obs cure ground of hi nts a nd empa thi es where bi ol ogi s ts went a s tra y. “I feel a s trong a nxi ety wi th a s peci fic s pa a l ori enta on. But I a m not a n empa th. Therefore the a nxi ety i s expl i ca bl e i n terms of the pa r cul a r s tres s -s i tua on, tha t i s , the a a ck on a tea m member i n the fores t, a nd a l s o i n terms of the tota l s tres s s i tua on, tha t i s , my pres ence i n a tota l l y a l i en envi ronment, for whi ch the a rchetypi ca l connota ons of the word ‘fores t’ provi de a n i nevi ta bl e meta phor.” Hours l a ter Tomi ko woke to hea r Os den s crea mi ng i n ni ghtma re; Ma nnon wa s ca l mi ng hi m, a nd s he s a nk ba ck i nto her own da rk-bra nchi ng pa thl es s drea ms . In the morni ng Es kwa na di d not wa ke. He coul d not be rous ed wi th s mul a nt drugs . He cl ung to hi s s l eep, s l i ppi ng fa rther a nd fa rther ba ck, mumbl i ng s o l y now a nd then un l , whol l y regres s ed, he l a y curl ed on hi s s i de, thumb a t hi s l i ps , gone. “Two da ys ; two down. Ten l i ttl e Indi a ns , ni ne l i ttl e Indi a ns ...” Tha t wa s Porl ock. “And you’re the next l i ttl e Indi a n,” Jenny Chong s na pped. “Go a na l yze your uri ne, Porl ock!” “He i s dri vi ng us a l l i ns a ne,” Porl ock s a i d, ge ng up a nd wa vi ng hi s l e a rm. “Ca n’t you feel i t? For God’s s a ke, a re you a l l dea f a nd bl i nd? Ca n’t you feel wha t he’s doi ng, the ema na ons ? It a l l comes from hi m— from hi s room there—from hi s mi nd. He i s dri vi ng us a l l i ns a ne wi th fea r!” “Who i s ?” s a i d As na ni foi l , l oomi ng preci pi tous a nd ha i ry over the l i ttl e Terra n. “Do I ha ve to s a y hi s na me? Os den, then. Os den! Os den! Why do you thi nk I tri ed to ki l l hi m? In s el f-defens e! To s a ve a l l of us ! Beca us e you won’t s ee wha t he’s doi ng to us . He’s s a bota ged the mi s s i on by ma ki ng us qua rrel , a nd now he’s goi ng to dri ve us a l l i ns a ne by projec ng fea r a t us s o tha t we ca n’t s l eep or thi nk, l i ke a huge ra di o tha t does n’t ma ke a ny s ound, but i t broa dca s ts a l l the me, a nd you ca n’t s l eep, a nd you ca n’t thi nk. Ha i to a nd Ha rfex a re a l rea dy under hi s control but the res t of you ca n be s a ved. I ha d to do i t!” “You di dn’t do i t very wel l ,” Os den s a i d, s ta ndi ng ha l f-na ked, a l l ri b a nd ba nda ge, a t the door of hi s cubi cl e. “I coul d ha ve hi t mys el f ha rder. Hel l , i t i s n’t me tha t’s s ca ri ng you bl i nd, Porl ock, i t’s out there— there, i n the woods !” Porl ock ma de a n i neffectua l a empt to a s s a ul t Os den; As na ni foi l hel d hi m ba ck, a nd con nued to hol d hi m effortl es s l y whi l e Ma nnon ga ve hi m a s eda ve s hot. He wa s put a wa y s hou ng a bout gi a nt ra di os . In a mi nute the s eda ve took effect, a nd he joi ned a pea ceful s i l ence to Es kwa na ’s . “Al l ri ght,” s a i d Ha rfex. “Now, Os den, you’l l tel l us wha t you know a nd a l l you know.” Os den s a i d, “I don’t know a nythi ng.” He l ooked ba ttered a nd fa i nt. Tomi ko ma de hi m s i t down before he ta l ked. “After I’d been three da ys i n the fores t, I thought I wa s occa s i ona l l y recei vi ng s ome ki nd of a ffect.” “Why di dn’t you report i t?” “Thought I wa s goi ng s pl a , l i ke the res t of you.” “Tha t, equa l l y, s houl d ha ve been reported.” “You’d ha ve ca l l ed me ba ck to ba s e. I coul dn’t ta ke i t. You rea l i ze tha t my i ncl us i on i n the mi s s i on wa s a ba d mi s ta ke. I’m not a bl e to coexi s t wi th ni ne other neuro c pers ona l i es a t cl os e qua rters . I wa s wrong to vol unteer for Extreme Survey, a nd the Authori ty wa s wrong to a ccept me.” No one s poke; but Tomi ko s a w, wi th certa i nty thi s me, the fli nch i n Os den’s s houl ders a nd the ghteni ng of hi s fa ci a l mus cl es , 71

a s he regi s tered thei r bi tter a greement. “Anyhow, I di dn’t wa nt to come ba ck to ba s e beca us e I wa s curi ous . Even goi ng ps ycho, how coul d I pi ck up empa thi c a ffects when there wa s no crea ture to emi t them? They weren’t ba d, then. Very va gue. Queer. Li ke a dra i n a cl os ed room, a fli cker i n the comer of your eye. Nothi ng rea l l y.” For a moment he ha d been borne up on thei r l i s teni ng: they hea rd, s o he s poke. He wa s whol l y a t thei r mercy. If they di s l i ked hi m he ha d to be ha teful ; i f they mocked hi m he beca me grotes que; i f they l i s tened to hi m he wa s the s torytel l er. He wa s hel pl es s l y obedi ent to the dema nds of thei r emo ons , rea c ons , moods . And there were s even of them, too ma ny to cope wi th, s o tha t he mus t be cons ta ntl y knocked a bout from one to a nother’s whi m. He coul d not find coherence. Even a s he s poke a nd hel d them, s omebody’s a en on woul d wa nder: Ol l eroo perha ps wa s thi nki ng tha t he wa s n’t una ra c ve, Ha rfex wa s s eeki ng the ul teri or mo ve of hi s words , As na ni foi l ’s mi nd, whi ch coul d not be l ong hel d by the concrete, wa s roa mi ng off towa rds the eterna l pea ce of number, a nd Tomi ko wa s di s tra cted by pi ty, by fea r. Os den’s voi ce fa l tered. He l os t the threa d. “I... I thought i t mus t be the trees ,” he s a i d, a nd s topped. “It’s not the trees ,” Ha rfex s a i d. “They ha ve no more nervous s ys tem tha n do pl a nts of the Ha i ni s h Des cent on Ea rth. None.” “You’re not s eei ng the fores t for the trees , a s they s a y on Ea rth,” Ma nnon put i n, s mi l i ng el finl y; Ha rfex s ta red a t hi m. “Wha t a bout thos e root-nodes we’ve been puzzl i ng a bout for twenty da ys —eh?” “Wha t a bout them?” “ They a re, i ndubi ta bl y, connec ons . Connec ons a mong the trees . Ri ght? Now l et’s jus t s uppos e, mos t i mproba bl y, tha t you knew nothi ng of a ni ma l bra i n-s tructure. And you were gi ven one a xon, or one deta ched gl i a l cel l , to exa mi ne. Woul d you be l i kel y to di s cover wha t i t wa s ? Woul d you s ee tha t the cel l wa s ca pa bl e of s enti ence?” “No. Beca us e i t i s n’t. A s i ngl e cel l i s ca pa bl e of mecha ni ca l res pons e to s mul us . No more. Are you hypothes i zi ng tha t i ndi vi dua l a rbori formes a re ‘cel l s ’ i n a ki nd of bra i n, Ma nnon?” “Not exa ctl y. I’m merel y poi n ng out tha t they a re a l l i nterconnected, both by the root-node l i nka ge a nd by your green epi phytes i n the bra nches . A l i nka ge of i ncredi bl e compl exi ty a nd phys i ca l extent. Why, even the pra i ri e gra s s -forms ha ve thos e rootconnectors , don’t they? I know tha t s enti ence or i ntel l i gence i s n’t a thi ng, you ca n’t fi nd i t i n, or a na l yze i t out from, the cel l s of a bra i n. It’s a func on of the connected cel l s . It i s , i n a s ens e, the connec on: the connectednes s . It does n’t exi s t. I’m not tryi ng to s a y i t exi s ts . I’m onl y gues s i ng tha t Os den mi ght be a bl e to des cri be i t.” And Os den took hi m up, s pea ki ng a s i f i n tra nce. “Sen ence wi thout s ens es . Bl i nd, dea f, nervel es s , movel es s . Some i rri ta bi l i ty, res pons e to touch. Res pons e to s un, to l i ght, to wa ter, a nd chemi ca l s i n the ea rth a round the roots . Nothi ng comprehens i bl e to a n a ni ma l mi nd. Pres ence wi thout mi nd. Awa renes s of bei ng, wi thout object or s ubject. Ni rva na .” “Then why do you recei ve fea r?” Tomi ko a s ked i n a l ow voi ce. “I don’t know. I ca n’t s ee how a wa renes s of objects , of others , coul d a ri s e: a n unpercei vi ng res pons e... But there wa s a n unea s i nes s , for da ys . And then when I l a y between the two trees a nd my bl ood wa s on thei r roots —” Os den’s fa ce gl i ered wi th s wea t. “It beca me fea r,” he s a i d s hri l l y, “onl y fea r.” “If s uch a func on exi s ted,” Ha rfex s a i d, “i t woul d not be ca pa bl e of concei vi ng of a s el f-movi ng, ma teri a l en ty, or res pondi ng to one. It coul d no more become a wa re of us tha n we ca n ‘become a wa re’ of Infini ty.” “ ‘ The s i l ence of thos e i nfini te expa ns es terri fi es me,' ” muttered Tomi ko. “Pa s ca l wa s a wa re of Infi ni ty. By wa y of fea r.” “ To a fores t,” Ma nnon s a i d, “we mi ght a ppea r a s fores t fires . Hurri ca nes . Da ngers . Wha t moves qui ckl y i s da ngerous , to a pl a nt. The rootl es s woul d be a l i en, terri bl e. And i f i t i s mi nd, i t s eems onl y too proba bl e tha t i t mi ght become a wa re of Os den, whos e own mi nd i s open to connec on wi th a l l others s o l ong a s he’s cons ci ous , a nd who wa s l yi ng i n pa i n a nd a fra i d wi thi n i t, a ctua l l y i ns i de i t. No wonder i t wa s a fra i d—” “Not ‘i t,’ ” Ha rfex s a i d. “There i s no bei ng, no huge crea ture, no pers on! There coul d a t mos t be onl y a functi on—” “There i s onl y a fea r,” Os den s a i d. They were a l l s ti l l a whi l e, a nd hea rd the s ti l l nes s outs i de. “Is tha t wha t I feel a l l the ti me comi ng up behi nd me?” Jenny Chong a s ked, s ubdued. Os den nodded. “You a l l feel i t, dea f a s you a re. Es kwa na ’s the wors t off, beca us e he a ctua l l y ha s s ome empa thi c ca pa ci ty. He coul d s end i f he l ea rned how, but he’s too wea k, never wi l l be a nythi ng but a medi um.” “Li s ten, Os den,” Tomi ko s a i d, “you ca n s end. Then s end to i t—the fores t, the fea r out there—tel l i t tha t we won’t hurt i t. Si nce i t ha s , or i s , s ome s ort of a ffect tha t tra ns l a tes i nto wha t we feel a s emoti on, ca n’t you tra ns l a te ba ck? Send out a mes s a ge, We a re ha rml es s , we a re fri endl y.” “You mus t know tha t nobody ca n emi t a fa l s e empa thi c mes s a ge, Ha i to. You ca n’t s end s omethi ng tha t does n’t exi s t.” “But we don’t i ntend ha rm, we a re fri endl y.” “Are we? In the fores t, when you pi cked me up, di d you feel fri endl y?” “No. Terri fi ed. But tha t’s —i t, the fores t, the pl a nts , not my own fea r, i s n’t i t?” “Wha t’s the di fference? It’s a l l you fel t. Ca n’t you s ee,” a nd Os den’s voi ce ros e i n exa s pera on, “why I di s l i ke you a nd you di s l i ke me, a l l of you? Ca n’t you s ee tha t I retra ns mi t every nega ve or a ggres s i ve a ffect you’ve fel t towa rds me s i nce we firs t 72

met? I return your hos l i ty, wi th tha nks . I do i t i n s el f-defens e. Li ke Porl ock. It i s s el f-defens e, though; i t’s the onl y techni que I devel oped to repl a ce my ori gi na l defens e of tota l wi thdra wa l from others . Unfortuna tel y i t crea tes a cl os ed ci rcui t, s el fs us ta i ni ng a nd s el f-rei nforci ng. Your i ni a l rea c on to me wa s the i ns nc ve a n pa thy to a cri ppl e; by now of cours e i t’s ha tred. Ca n you fa i l to s ee my poi nt? The fores t-mi nd out there tra ns mi ts onl y terror, now, a nd the onl y mes s a ge I ca n s end i t i s terror, beca us e when expos ed to i t I ca n feel nothi ng except terror!” “Wha t mus t we do, then?” s a i d Tomi ko, a nd Ma nnon repl i ed promptl y, “Move ca mp. To a nother con nent. If there a re pl a ntmi nds there, they’l l be s l ow to no ce us , a s thi s one wa s ; ma ybe they won’t no ce us a t a l l .” “It woul d be a cons i dera bl e rel i ef,” Os den obs erved s ffly. The others ha d been wa tchi ng hi m wi th a new curi os i ty. He ha d revea l ed hi ms el f, they ha d s een hi m a s he wa s , a hel pl es s ma n i n a tra p. Perha ps , l i ke Tomi ko, they ha d s een tha t the tra p i ts el f, hi s cra s s a nd cruel ego s m, wa s thei r own cons truc on, not hi s . They ha d bui l t the ca ge a nd l ocked hi m i n i t, a nd l i ke a ca ged a pe he threw fil th out through the ba rs . If, mee ng hi m, they ha d offered trus t, i f they ha d been s trong enough to offer hi m l ove, how mi ght he ha ve a ppea red to them? None of them coul d ha ve done s o, a nd i t wa s too l a te now. Gi ven me, gi ven s ol i tude, Tomi ko mi ght ha ve bui l t up wi th hi m a s l ow res ona nce of feel i ng, a cons ona nce of trus t, a ha rmony; but there wa s no me, thei r job mus t be done. There wa s not room enough for the cul va on of s o grea t a thi ng, a nd they mus t ma ke do wi th s ympa thy, wi th pi ty, the s ma l l cha nge of l ove. Even tha t much ha d gi ven her s trength, but i t wa s nowhere nea r enough for hi m. She coul d s ee i n hi s fla yed fa ce now hi s s a va ge res entment of thei r curi os i ty, even of her pi ty. “Go l i e down, tha t ga s h i s bl eedi ng a ga i n,” s he s a i d, a nd he obeyed her. Next morni ng they pa cked up, mel ted down the s pra yform ha nga r a nd l i vi ng qua rters , l i ed Gum on mecha ni ca l dri ve a nd took her ha l fwa y round Worl d 4470, over the red a nd green l a nds , the ma ny wa rm green s ea s . They ha d pi cked out a l i kel y s pot on Con nent G: a pra i ri e, twenty thous a nd s qua re ki l os of wi nds wept gra mi ni formes . No fores t wa s wi thi n a hundred ki l os of the s i te, a nd there were no l one trees or groves on the pl a i n. The pl a nt-forms occurred onl y i n l a rge s peci es -col oni es , never i ntermi ngl ed, except for certa i n ny ubi qui tous s a prophytes a nd s pore-bea rers . The tea m s pra yed hol omel d over s tructure forms , a nd by eveni ng of the thi rty-two-hour da y were s e l ed i n to the new ca mp. Es kwa na wa s s l l a s l eep a nd Porl ock s l l s eda ted, but everyone el s e wa s cheerful . “You ca n brea the here!” they kept s a yi ng. Os den got on hi s feet a nd went s ha ki l y to the doorwa y; l ea ni ng there he l ooked through twi l i ght over the di m rea ches of the s wa yi ng gra s s tha t wa s not gra s s . There wa s a fa i nt, s weet odor of pol l en on the wi nd; no s ound but the s o , va s t s i bi l a nce of wi nd. Hi s ba nda ged hea d cocked a l i l e, the empa th s tood mo onl es s for a l ong me. Da rknes s ca me, a nd the s ta rs , l i ghts i n the wi ndows of the di s ta nt hous e of Ma n. The wi nd ha d cea s ed, there wa s no s ound. He l i s tened. In the l ong ni ght Ha i to Tomi ko l i s tened. She l a y s l l a nd hea rd the bl ood i n her a rteri es , the brea thi ng of s l eepers , the wi nd bl owi ng, the da rk vei ns runni ng, the drea ms a dva nci ng, the va s t s ta c of s ta rs i ncrea s i ng a s the uni vers e di ed s l owl y, the s ound of dea th wa l ki ng. She s truggl ed out of her bed, fled the ny s ol i tude of her cubi cl e. Es kwa na a l one s l ept. Porl ock l a y s tra i tja cketed, ra vi ng s oftl y i n hi s obs cure na ti ve tongue. Ol l eroo a nd Jenny Chong were pl a yi ng ca rds , gri m-fa ced. Pos wet To wa s i n the thera py ni che, pl ugged i n. As na ni foi l wa s dra wi ng a ma nda l a , the Thi rd Pa ern of the Pri mes . Ma nnon a nd Ha rfex were s i tti ng up wi th Os den. She cha nged the ba nda ges on Os den’s hea d. Hi s l a nk, reddi s h ha i r, where s he ha d not ha d to s ha ve i t, l ooked s tra nge. It wa s s a l ted wi th whi te, now. Her ha nds s hook a s s he worked. Nobody ha d yet s a i d a nythi ng. “How ca n the fea r be here too?” s he s a i d, a nd her voi ce ra ng fl a t a nd fa l s e i n the terri fi c s i l ence. “It’s not jus t the trees ; the gra s s es too...” “But we’re twel ve thous a nd ki l os from where we were thi s morni ng, we l eft i t on the other s i de of the pl a net.” “It’s a l l one,” Os den s a i d. “One bi g green thought. How l ong does i t ta ke a thought to get from one s i de of your bra i n to the other?” “It does n’t thi nk. It i s n’t thi nki ng,” Ha rfex s a i d, l i fel es s l y. “It’s merel y a network of proces s es . The bra nches , the epi phy c growths , the roots wi th thos e noda l junctures between i ndi vi dua l s : they mus t a l l be ca pa bl e of tra ns mi ng el ectrochemi ca l i mpul s es . There a re no i ndi vi dua l pl a nts , then, properl y s pea ki ng. Even the pol l en i s pa rt of the l i nka ge, no doubt, a s ort of Wi ndborne s en ence, connec ng overs ea s . But i t i s not concei va bl e. Tha t a l l the bi os phere of a pl a net s houl d be one network of communi ca ti ons , s ens i ti ve, i rra ti ona l , i mmorta l , i s ol a ted....” “Is ol a ted,” s a i d Os den. “ Tha t’s i t! Tha t’s the fea r. It i s n’t tha t we’re mo l e, or des truc ve. It’s jus t tha t we a re. We a re other. There ha s never been a ny other.” “You’re ri ght,” Ma nnon s a i d, a l mos t whi s peri ng. “It ha s no peers . No enemi es . No rel a ons hi p wi th a nythi ng but i ts el f. One a l one forever.” “Then wha t’s the functi on of i ts i ntel l i gence i n s peci es -s urvi va l ?” “None, ma ybe,” Os den s a i d. “Why a re you getti ng tel eol ogi ca l , Ha rfex? Aren’t you a Ha i ni s hma n? Is n’t the mea s ure of compl exi ty the mea s ure of the eterna l joy?” Ha rfex di d not ta ke the ba i t. He l ooked i l l . “We s houl d l ea ve thi s worl d,” he s a i d. “Now you know why I a l wa ys wa nt to get out, get a wa y from you,” Os den s a i d wi th a ki nd of morbi d geni a l i ty. “It i s n’t pl ea s a nt, i s i t—the other’s fea r... ? If onl y i t were a n a ni ma l i ntel l i gence. I ca n get through to a ni ma l s . I get a l ong wi th cobra s a nd gers ; s uperi or i ntel l i gence gi ves one the a dva nta ge. I s houl d ha ve been us ed i n a zoo, not on a huma n tea m.... If I coul d get through 73

to the da mned s tupi d pota to! If i t wa s n’t s o overwhel mi ng... I s l l pi ck up more tha n the fea r, you know. And before i t pa ni cked i t ha d a —there wa s a s ereni ty. I coul dn’t ta ke i t i n, then, I di dn’t rea l i ze how bi g i t wa s . To know the whol e da yl i ght, a er a l l , a nd the whol e ni ght. Al l the wi nds a nd l ul l s together. The wi nter s ta rs a nd the s ummer s ta rs a t the s a me me. To ha ve roots , a nd no enemi es . To be enti re. Do you s ee? No i nva s i on. No others . To be whol e...” He ha d never s poken before, Tomi ko thought. “You a re defens el es s a ga i ns t i t, Os den,” s he s a i d. “Your pers ona l i ty ha s cha nged a l rea dy. You’re vul nera bl e to i t. We ma y not a l l go ma d, but you wi l l , i f we don’t l ea ve.” He hes i ta ted, then he l ooked up a t Tomi ko, the fi rs t ti me he ha d ever met her eyes , a l ong, s ti l l l ook, cl ea r a s wa ter. “Wha t’s s a ni ty ever done for me?” he s a i d, mocki ng. “But you ha ve a poi nt, Ha i to. You ha ve s omethi ng there.” “We s houl d get a wa y,” Ha rfex muttered. “If I ga ve i n to i t,” Os den mus ed, “coul d I communi ca te?” “By ‘gi ve i n,' ” Ma nnon s a i d i n a ra pi d, nervous voi ce, “I a s s ume tha t you mea n, s top s endi ng ba ck the empa thi c i nforma on whi ch you recei ve from the pl a nt-en ty: s top rejec ng the fea r, a nd a bs orb i t. Tha t wi l l ei ther ki l l you a t once, or dri ve you ba ck i nto tota l ps ychol ogi ca l wi thdra wa l , a uti s m.” “Why?” s a i d Os den. “Its mes s a ge i s rejec on. But my s a l va on i s rejec on. It’s not i ntel l i gent. But I a m.” “ The s ca l e i s wrong. Wha t ca n a s i ngl e huma n bra i n a chi eve a ga i ns t s omethi ng s o va s t?” “A s i ngl e huma n bra i n ca n percei ve pa ttern on the s ca l e of s ta rs a nd ga l a xi es ,” Tomi ko s a i d, “a nd i nterpret i t a s Love.” Ma nnon l ooked from one to the other of them; Ha rfex wa s s i l ent. “It’d be ea s i er i n the fores t,” Os den s a i d. “Whi ch of you wi l l fl y me over?” “When?” “Now. Before you a l l cra ck up or go vi ol ent.” “I wi l l ,” Tomi ko s a i d. “None of us wi l l ,” Ha rfex s a i d. “I ca n’t,” Ma nnon s a i d. “I... I a m too fri ghtened. I'd cra s h the jet.” “Bri ng Es kwa na a l ong. If I ca n pul l thi s off, he mi ght s erve a s a medi um.” “Are you a ccepti ng the Sens or’s pl a n, Coordi na tor?" Ha rfex a s ked forma l l y. “Yes .” “I di s a pprove. I wi l l come wi th you, however.” “I thi nk we’re compel l ed, Ha rfex,” Tomi ko s a i d, l ooki ng a t Os den’s fa ce, the ugl y whi te ma s k tra ns figured, ea ger a s a l over’s fa ce. Ol l eroo a nd Jenny Chong, pl a yi ng ca rds to keep thei r thoughts from thei r ha unted beds , thei r moun ng drea d, cha ered l i ke s ca red chi l dren. “Thi s thi ng, i t’s i n the fores t, i t’l l get you—” “Sca red of the da rk?” Os den jeered. “But l ook a t Es kwa na , a nd Porl ock, a nd even As na ni foi l —” “It ca n’t hurt you. It’s a n i mpul s e pa s s i ng through s yna ps es , a wi nd pa s s i ng through bra nches . It i s onl y a ni ghtma re.” They took off i n a hel i jet, Es kwa na curl ed up s ti l l s ound a s l eep i n the rea r compa rtment, Tomi ko pi l o ng, Ha rfex a nd Os den s i l ent, wa tchi ng a hea d for the da rk l i ne of fores t a cros s the va gue grey mi l es of s ta rl i t pl a i n. They nea red the bl a ck l i ne, cros s ed i t; now under them wa s da rknes s . She s ought a l a ndi ng pl a ce, flyi ng l ow, though s he ha d to fight her fra n c wi s h to fly hi gh, to get out, get a wa y. The huge vi ta l i ty of the pl a nt-worl d wa s fa r s tronger here i n the fores t, a nd i ts pa ni c bea t i n i mmens e da rk wa ves . There wa s a pa l e pa tch a hea d, a ba re knol l -top a l i l e hi gher tha n the ta l l es t of the bl a ck s ha pes a round i t; the not-trees ; the rooted; the pa rts of the whol e. She s et the hel i jet down i n the gl a de, a ba d l a ndi ng. Her ha nds on the s ck were s l i ppery, a s i f s he ha d rubbed them wi th col d s oa p. About them now s tood the fores t, bl a ck i n da rknes s . Tomi ko cowered a nd s hut her eyes . Es kwa na moa ned i n hi s s l eep. Ha rfex’s brea th ca me s hort a nd l oud, a nd he s a t ri gi d, even when Os den rea ched a cros s hi m a nd s l i d the door open. 74

Os den s tood up; hi s ba ck a nd ba nda ged hea d were jus t vi s i bl e i n the di m gl ow of the control pa nel a s he pa us ed s toopi ng i n the doorwa y. Tomi ko wa s s ha ki ng. She coul d not ra i s e her hea d. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no,” s he s a i d i n a whi s per. “No. No. No.” Os den moved s uddenl y a nd qui etl y, s wi ngi ng out of the doorwa y, down i nto the da rk. He wa s gone. I a m comi ng! s a i d a grea t voi ce tha t ma de no s ound. Tomi ko s crea med. Ha rfex coughed; he s eemed to be tryi ng to s ta nd up, but di d not do s o. Tomi ko drew i n upon hers el f, a l l centered i n the bl i nd eye i n her bel l y, i n the center of her bei ng; a nd outs i de tha t there wa s nothi ng but the fea r. It cea s ed. She ra i s ed her hea d; s l owl y uncl enched her ha nds . She s a t up s tra i ght. The ni ght wa s da rk, a nd s ta rs s hone over the fores t. There wa s nothi ng el s e. “Os den,” s he s a i d, but her voi ce woul d not come. She s poke a ga i n, l ouder, a l one bul l frog croa k. There wa s no repl y. She bega n to rea l i ze tha t s omethi ng ha d gone wrong wi th Ha rfex. She wa s tryi ng to find hi s hea d i n the da rknes s , for he ha d s l i pped down from the s ea t, when a l l a t once, i n the dea d qui et, i n the da rk rea r compa rtment of the cra ft, a voi ce s poke. “Good,” i t s a i d. It wa s Es kwa na ’s voi ce. She s na pped on the i nteri or l i ghts a nd s a w the engi neer l yi ng curl ed up a s l eep, hi s ha nd ha l f over hi s mouth. The mouth opened a nd s poke. “Al l wel l ,” i t s a i d. “Os den—” “Al l wel l ,” s a i d the s oft voi ce from Es kwa na ’s mouth. “Where a re you?” Si l ence. “Come ba ck.” A wi nd wa s ri s i ng. “I’l l s ta y here,” the s oft voi ce s a i d. “You ca n’t s ta y—” Si l ence. “You’d be a l one, Os den!” “Li s ten.” The voi ce wa s fa i nter, s l urred, a s i f l os t i n the s ound of wi nd. “Li s ten. I wi l l you wel l .” She ca l l ed hi s na me a fter tha t, but there wa s no a ns wer. Es kwa na l a y s ti l l . Ha rfex l a y s ti l l er. “Os den!” s he cri ed, l ea ni ng out the doorwa y i nto the da rk, wi nd-s ha ken s i l ence of the fores t of bei ng. “I wi l l come ba ck. I mus t get Ha rfex to the ba s e. I wi l l come ba ck, Os den!” Si l ence a nd wi nd i n l ea ves . They fini s hed the pres cri bed s urvey of Worl d 4470, the ei ght of them; i t took them forty-one da ys more. As na ni foi l a nd one or a nother of the women went i nto the fores t da i l y a t firs t, s ea rchi ng for Os den i n the regi on a round the ba re knol l , though Tomi ko wa s not i n her hea rt s ure whi ch ba re knol l they ha d l a nded on tha t ni ght i n the very hea rt a nd vortex of terror. They l e pi l es of s uppl i es for Os den, food enough for fi y yea rs , cl othi ng, tents , tool s . They di d not go on s ea rchi ng; there wa s no wa y to find a ma n a l one, hi di ng, i f he wa nted to hi de i n thos e unendi ng l a byri nths a nd di m corri dors vi ne-enta ngl ed, root-fl oored. They mi ght ha ve pa s s ed wi thi n a rm’s rea ch of hi m a nd never s een hi m. But he wa s there; for there wa s no fea r a ny more. Ra ti ona l , a nd va l ui ng rea s on more hi ghl y a fter a n i ntol era bl e experi ence of the i mmorta l mi ndl es s , Tomi ko tri ed to unders ta nd ra ona l l y wha t Os den ha d done. But the words es ca ped her control . He ha d ta ken the fea r i nto hi ms el f, a nd, a ccep ng, ha d tra ns cended i t. He ha d gi ven up hi s s el f to the a l i en, a n unres erved s urrender, tha t l e no pl a ce for evi l . He ha d l ea rned the l ove of the Other, a nd thereby ha d been gi ven hi s whol e s el f. —But thi s i s not the voca bul a ry of rea s on. The peopl e of the Survey tea m wa l ked under the trees , through the va s t col oni es of l i fe, s urrounded by a drea mi ng s i l ence, a broodi ng ca l m tha t wa s ha l f a wa re of them a nd whol l y i ndi fferent to them. There were no hours . Di s ta nce wa s no ma er. Ha d we but worl d enough a nd me... The pl a net turned between the s unl i ght a nd the grea t da rk; wi nds of wi nter a nd s ummer bl ew fi ne, pa l e pol l en a cros s the qui et s ea s . 75

Gum returned a er ma ny s urveys , yea rs , a nd l i ght-yea rs , to wha t ha d s evera l centuri es a go been Smemi ng Port. There were s l l men there, to recei ve (i ncredul ous l y) the tea m’s reports , a nd to record i ts l os s es : Bi ol ogi s t Ha rfex, dea d of fea r, a nd Sens or Os den, l eft a s a col oni s t. THE STARS BELOW

The popul a r no on of s ci ence fic on, I gues s , i s of a s tory tha t ta kes s ome pos s i bl e or i mpos s i bl e technol ogi ca l gi mmi ck-ofthe-future—Soyl ent Green, the ti me ma chi ne, the s ubma ri ne—a nd ma kes ha y out of i t. There certa i nl y a re s ci ence fi cti on s tori es whi ch do jus t tha t, but to defi ne s ci ence fi cti on by them i s a bi t l i ke defi ni ng the Uni ted Sta tes a s Ka ns a s . Wri ng “ The Sta rs Bel ow,” I thought I knew wha t I wa s doi ng. As i n the ea rl y s tory “ The Ma s ters ,” I wa s tel l i ng a s tory not a bout a gi mmi ck or devi ce or hypothes i s , but a bout s ci ence i ts el f— the i dea of s ci ence. And a bout wha t ha ppens to the i dea of s ci ence when i t meets u erl y oppos ed a nd powerful i dea s , embodi ed i n government, a s when s eventeenth-century a s tronomy ra n up a ga i ns t the Pope, or gene cs i n the 1930s ra n up a ga i ns t Sta l i n. But a l l thi s wa s ca s t a s a ps ychomyth, a s tory outs i de rea l me, pa s t or future, i n pa rt to genera l i ze i t, a nd i n pa rt beca us e I wa s a l s o us i ng s ci ence a s a s ynonym for a rt. Wha t ha ppens to the crea ti ve mi nd when i t i s dri ven underground? Tha t wa s the ques on, a nd I thought I knew my a ns wer. It a l l s eemed s tra i gh orwa rd, a mere a l l egory, rea l l y. But you don’t go expl ori ng the pl a ces underground a l l tha t ea s i l y. The s ymbol s you thought were s i mpl e equi va l ences , s i gns , come a l i ve, a nd ta ke on mea ni ngs you di d not i ntend a nd ca nnot expl a i n. Long a er I wrote the s tory I ca me on a pa s s a ge i n Jung’s On the Na ture of the Ps yche: “We woul d do wel l to thi nk of egocons ci ous nes s a s bei ng s urrounded by a mul tude of l i l e l umi nos i es .... Intros pec ve i ntui ons ... ca pture the s ta te of the uncons ci ous : The s ta r-s trewn hea vens , s ta rs reflected i n da rk wa ter, nuggets of gol d or gol den s a nd s ca ered i n bl a ck ea rth.” And he quotes from a n a l chemi s t, “Semi na te a urum i n terra m a l ba m fol i a ta m”—the preci ous meta l s trewn i n the l a yers of whi te cl a y. Perha ps thi s s tory i s not a bout s ci ence, or a bout a rt, but a bout the mi nd, my mi nd, a ny mi nd, tha t turns i nwa rd to i ts el f. The wooden hous e a nd outbui l di ngs ca ught fire fa s t, bl a zed up, burned down, but the dome, bui l t of l a the a nd pl a s ter a bove a drum of bri ck, woul d not burn. Wha t they di d a t l a s t wa s hea p up the wrecka ge of the tel es copes , the i ns truments , the books a nd cha rts a nd dra wi ngs , i n the mi ddl e of the floor under the dome, pour oi l on the hea p, a nd s et fire to tha t. The fla mes s prea d to the wooden bea ms of the bi g tel es cope fra me a nd to the cl ockwork mecha ni s ms . Vi l l a gers wa tchi ng from the foot of the hi l l s a w the dome, whi s h a ga i ns t the green eveni ng s ky, s hudder a nd turn, firs t i n one di rec on then i n the other, whi l e a bl a ck a nd yel l ow s moke ful l of s pa rks gus hed from the obl ong s l i t: a n ugl y a nd unca nny thi ng to s ee. It wa s ge ng da rk, s ta rs were s howi ng i n the ea s t. Orders were s houted. The s ol di ers ca me down the roa d i n s i ngl e fil e, da rk men i n da rk ha rnes s , s i l ent. The vi l l a gers a t the foot of the hi l l s ta yed on a er the s ol di ers ha d gone. In a l i fe wi thout cha nge or brea dth a fire i s a s good a s a fes va l . They di d not cl i mb the hi l l , a nd a s the ni ght grew ful l da rk they drew cl os er together. A er a whi l e they bega n to go ba ck to thei r vi l l a ges . Some l ooked ba ck over thei r s houl ders a t the hi l l , where nothi ng moved. The s ta rs turned s l owl y behi nd the bl a ck beehi ve of the dome, but i t di d not turn to fol l ow them. About a n hour before da ybrea k a ma n rode up the s teep zi gza g, di s mounted by the rui ns of the works hops , a nd a pproa ched the dome on foot. The door ha d been s ma s hed i n. Through i t a reddi s h ha ze of l i ght wa s vi s i bl e, very di m, comi ng from a ma s s i ve s upport-bea m tha t ha d fa l l en a nd ha d s mol dered a l l ni ght i nwa rd to i ts core. A ha ngi ng, s our s moke thi ckened the a i r i ns i de the dome. A ta l l figure moved there a nd i ts s ha dow moved wi th i t, ca s t upwa rd on the murk. Some mes i t s tooped, or s topped, then bl undered s l owl y on. The ma n a t the door s a i d: “Guenna r! Ma s ter Guenna r!” The ma n i n the dome s topped s l l , l ooki ng towa rds the door. He ha d jus t pi cked up s omethi ng from the mes s of wrecka ge a nd ha l f-burnt s tuff on the floor. He put thi s object mecha ni ca l l y i nto hi s coa t pocket, s l l peeri ng a t the door. He ca me towa rds i t. Hi s eyes were red a nd s wol l en a l mos t s hut, he brea thed ha rs hl y i n ga s ps , hi s ha i r a nd cl othes were s corched a nd s mea red wi th bl a ck a s h. “Where were you?” The ma n i n the dome poi nted va guel y a t the ground. “ There’s a cel l a r? Tha t’s where you were duri ng the fire? By God! Gone to ground! I knew i t, I knew you’d be here.” Bord l a ughed, a l i ttl e cra zi l y, ta ki ng Guenna r’s a rm. “Come on. Come out of there, for the l ove of God. There’s l i ght i n the ea s t a l rea dy.” The a s tronomer ca me rel ucta ntl y, l ooki ng not a t the grey ea s t but ba ck up a t the s l i t i n the dome, where a few s ta rs burned cl ea r. Bord pul l ed hi m outs i de, ma de hi m mount the hors e, a nd then, bri dl e i n ha nd, s et off down the hi l l l ea di ng the hors e a t a fa s t wa l k. The a s tronomer hel d the pommel wi th one ha nd. The other ha nd, whi ch ha d been burned a cros s the pa l m a nd fingers when he pi cked up a meta l fra gment s l l red-hot under i ts coa t of ci nders , he kept pres s ed a ga i ns t hi s thi gh. He wa s not cons ci ous of doi ng s o, or of the pa i n. Some mes hi s s ens es tol d hi m, “I a m on hors eba ck,” or, “It’s ge ng l i ghter,” but thes e fra gmenta ry mes s a ges ma de no s ens e to hi m. He s hi vered wi th col d a s the da wn wi nd ros e, ra l i ng the da rk woods by whi ch the two men a nd the hors e now pa s s ed i n a deep l a ne overhung by tea s el a nd bri a r; but the woods , the wi nd, the whi teni ng s ky, the col d were a l l remote from hi s mi nd, i n whi ch there wa s nothi ng but a da rknes s s hot wi th the reek a nd hea t of burni ng. Bord ma de hi m di s mount. There wa s s unl i ght a round them now, l yi ng l ong on rocks a bove a ri ver va l l ey. There wa s a da rk pl a ce, a nd Bord urged hi m a nd pul l ed hi m i nto the da rk pl a ce. It wa s not hot a nd cl os e there but col d a nd s i l ent. As s oon a s Bord l et hi m s top he s a nk down, for hi s knees woul d not bea r; a nd he fel t the col d rock a ga i ns t hi s s ea red a nd throbbi ng ha nds . 76

“Gone to ea rth, by God!” s a i d Bord, l ooki ng a bout a t the vei ned wa l l s , ma rked wi th the s ca rs of mi ners ' pi cks , i n the l i ght of hi s l a nterned ca ndl e. “I’l l be ba ck; a er da rk, ma ybe. Don’t come out. Don’t go fa rther i n. Thi s i s a n ol d a di t, they ha ven’t worked thi s end of the mi ne for yea rs . Ma y be s l i ps a nd pi a l l s i n thes e ol d tunnel s . Don’t come out! Li e l ow. When the hounds a re gone, we’l l run you a cros s the border.” Bord turned a nd went ba ck up the a di t i n da rknes s . When the s ound of hi s s teps ha d l ong s i nce di ed a wa y, the a s tronomer l i ed hi s hea d a nd l ooked a round hi m a t the da rk wa l l s a nd the l i l e burni ng ca ndl e. Pres entl y he bl ew i t out. There ca me upon hi m the ea rth-s mel l i ng da rknes s , s i l ent a nd compl ete. He s a w green s ha pes , ocherous bl ots dri i ng on the bl a ck; thes e fa ded s l owl y. The dul l , chi l l bl a ck wa s ba l m to hi s i nfl a med a nd a chi ng eyes , a nd to hi s mi nd. If he thought, s i tti ng there i n the da rk, hi s thoughts found no words . He wa s feveri s h from exha us ti on a nd s moke i nha l a ti on a nd a few s l i ght burns , a nd i n a n a bnorma l condi on of mi nd; but perha ps hi s mi nd’s worki ngs , though l uci d a nd s erene, ha d never been norma l . It i s not norma l for a ma n to s pend twenty yea rs gri ndi ng l ens es , bui l di ng tel es copes , peeri ng a t s ta rs , ma ki ng ca l cul a ons , l i s ts , ma ps a nd cha rts of thi ngs whi ch no one knows or ca res a bout, thi ngs whi ch ca nnot be rea ched, or touched, or hel d. And now a l l he ha d s pent hi s l i fe on wa s gone, burned. Wha t wa s l eft of hi m mi ght a s wel l be, a s i t wa s , buri ed. But i t di d not occur to hi m, thi s i dea of bei ng buri ed. Al l he wa s keenl y a wa re of wa s a grea t burden of a nger a nd gri ef, a burden he wa s unfit to ca rry. It wa s crus hi ng hi s mi nd, crus hi ng out rea s on. And the da rknes s here s eemed to rel i eve tha t pres s ure. He wa s a ccus tomed to the da rk, he ha d l i ved a t ni ght. The wei ght here wa s onl y rock, onl y ea rth. No gra ni te i s s o ha rd a s ha tred a nd no cl a y s o col d a s cruel ty. The ea rth’s bl a ck i nnocence enfol ded hi m. He l a y down wi thi n i t, trembl i ng a l i l e wi th pa i n a nd wi th rel i ef from pa i n, a nd s l ept. Li ght wa ked hi m. Count Bord wa s there, l i gh ng the ca ndl e wi th fli nt a nd s teel . Bord’s fa ce wa s vi vi d i n the l i ght: the hi gh col or a nd bl ue eyes of a keen hunts ma n, a red mouth, s ens ua l a nd obs na te. “ They’re on the s cent,” he wa s s a yi ng. “ They know you got a wa y.” “Why...” s a i d the a s tronomer. Hi s voi ce wa s wea k; hi s throa t, l i ke hi s eyes , wa s s ti l l s moke-i nfl a med. “Why a re they a fter me?” “Why? Do you s l l need tel l i ng? To burn you a l i ve, ma n! For heres y!” Bord’s bl ue eyes gl a red through the s tea dyi ng gl ow of the ca ndl e. “But i t’s gone, burned, a l l I di d.” “Aye, the ea rth’s s topped, a l l ri ght, but where’s thei r fox? They wa nt thei r fox! But da mned i f I’l l l et them get you.” The a s tronomer’s eyes , l i ght a nd wi de-s et, met hi s a nd hel d. “Why?” “You thi nk I’m a fool ,” Bord s a i d wi th a gri n tha t wa s not a s mi l e, a wol f ’s gri n, the gri n of the hunted a nd the hunter. “And I a m one. I wa s a fool to wa rn you. You never l i s tened. I wa s a fool to l i s ten to you. But I l i ked to l i s ten to you. I l i ked to hea r you ta l k a bout the s ta rs a nd the cours es of the pl a nets a nd the ends of me. Who el s e ever ta l ked to me of a nythi ng but s eed corn a nd cow dung? Do you s ee? And I don’t l i ke s ol di ers a nd s tra ngers , a nd tri a l s a nd burni ngs . Your truth, thei r truth, wha t do I know a bout the truth? Am I a ma s ter? Do I know the cours es of the s ta rs ? Ma ybe you do. Ma ybe they do. Al l I know i s you ha ve s a t a t my ta bl e a nd ta l ked to me. Am I to wa tch you burn? God’s fire, they s a y; but you s a i d the s ta rs a re the fires of God. Why do you a s k me tha t, ‘Why?’ Why do you a s k a fool ’s ques ti on of a fool ?” “I a m s orry,” the a s tronomer s a i d. “Wha t do you know a bout men?” the count s a i d. “You thought they’d l et you be. And you thought I’d l et you burn.” He l ooked a t Guenna r through the ca ndl el i ght, gri nni ng l i ke a dri ven wol f, but i n hi s bl ue eyes there wa s a gl i nt of rea l a mus ement. “We who l i ve down on the ea rth, you s ee, not up a mong the s ta rs ...” He ha d brought a nderbox a nd three ta l l ow ca ndl es , a bo l e of wa ter, a ba l l of pea s -puddi ng, a s a ck of brea d. He l e s oon, wa rni ng the a s tronomer a ga i n not to venture out of the mi ne. When Guenna r woke a ga i n a s tra ngenes s i n hi s s i tua on troubl ed hi m, not one whi ch woul d ha ve worri ed mos t peopl e hi di ng i n a hol e to s a ve thei r s ki ns , but mos t di s tres s i ng to hi m: he di d not know the ti me. It wa s not cl ocks he mi s s ed, the s weet ba ngi ng of the church bel l s i n the vi l l a ges ca l l i ng to morni ng a nd eveni ng pra yer, the del i ca te a nd wi l l i ng a ccura cy of the mepi eces he us ed i n hi s obs erva tory a nd on whos e refinement s o ma ny of hi s di s coveri es ha d depended; i t wa s not the cl ocks he mi s s ed, but the grea t cl ock. Not s eei ng the s ky, one ca nnot know the turni ng of the ea rth. Al l the proces s es of me, the s un’s bri ght a rch a nd the moon’s pha s es , the pl a net’s da nce, the wheel i ng of the cons tel l a ons a round the pol e s ta r, the va s ter wheel i ng of the s ea s ons of the s ta rs , a l l thes e were l os t, the wa rp on whi ch hi s l i fe wa s woven. Here there wa s no ti me. “O my God,” Guenna r the a s tronomer pra yed i n the da rknes s under ground, “how ca n i t offend you to be pra i s ed? Al l I ever s a w i n my tel es copes wa s one s pa rk of your gl ory, one l ea s t fra gment of the order of your crea on. You coul d not be jea l ous of tha t, my Lord! And there were few enough who bel i eved me, even s o. Wa s i t my a rroga nce i n da ri ng to des cri be your works ? But how coul d I hel p i t, Lord, when you l et me s ee the endl es s fiel ds of s ta rs ? Coul d I s ee a nd be s i l ent? O my God, do not puni s h me a ny more, l et me rebui l d the s ma l l er tel es cope. I wi l l not s pea k, I wi l l not publ i s h, i f i t troubl es your hol y Church. I wi l l not s a y a nythi ng more a bout the orbi ts of the pl a nets or the na ture of the s ta rs . I wi l l not s pea k, Lord, onl y l et me s ee!” “Wha t the devi l , be qui et, Ma s ter Guenna r. I coul d hea r you ha l fwa y up the tunnel ,” s a i d Bord, a nd the a s tronomer opened hi s eyes to the da zzl e of Bord’s l a ntern. “ They’ve ca l l ed the ful l hunt up for you. Now you’re a necroma ncer. They s wea r they s a w you s l eepi ng i n your hous e when they ca me, a nd they ba rred the doors ; but there’s no bones i n the a s hes .” 77

“I wa s a s l eep,” Guenna r s a i d, coveri ng hi s eyes . “ They ca me, the s ol di ers .... I s houl d ha ve l i s tened to you. I went i nto the pa s s a ge under the dome. I l e a pa s s a ge there s o I coul d go ba ck to the hea rth on col d ni ghts , when i t’s col d my fingers get too s ff, I ha ve to go wa rm my ha nds s ome mes .” He s prea d out hi s bl i s tered, bl a ckened ha nds a nd l ooked a t them va guel y. “ Then I hea rd them overhea d....” “Here’s s ome more food. Wha t the devi l , ha ven’t you ea ten?” “Ha s i t been l ong?” “A ni ght a nd a da y. It’s ni ght now. Ra i ni ng. Li s ten, Ma s ter: there’s two of the bl a ck hounds l i vi ng a t my hous e now. Emi s s a ri es of the Counci l , wha t the devi l , I ha d to offer hos pi ta l i ty. Thi s i s my county, they’re here, I’m the count. It ma kes i t ha rd for me to come. And I don’t wa nt to s end a ny of my peopl e here. Wha t i f the pri es ts a s ked them, ‘Do you know where he i s ? Wi l l you a ns wer to God you don’t know where he i s ?’ It’s bes t they don’t know. I’l l come when I ca n. You’re a l l ri ght here? You’l l s ta y here? I’l l get you out of here a nd over the border when they’ve cl ea red a wa y. They’re l i ke fli es now. Don’t ta l k a l oud l i ke tha t. They mi ght l ook i nto thes e ol d tunnel s . You s houl d go fa rther i n. I wi l l come ba ck. Sta y wi th God, Ma s ter.” “Go wi th God, count.” He s a w the col or of Bord’s bl ue eyes , the l ea p of s ha dows up the rough-hewn roof a s he took up the l a ntern a nd turned a wa y. Li ght a nd col or di ed a s Bord, a t the turni ng, put out the l a ntern. Guenna r hea rd hi m s tumbl e a nd s wea r a s he groped hi s wa y. Pres entl y Guenna r l i ghted one of hi s ca ndl es a nd a te a nd dra nk a l i l e, ea ng the s ta l er brea d firs t, a nd brea ki ng off a pi ece of the crus ted l ump of pea s -puddi ng. Thi s me Bord ha d brought hi m three l oa ves a nd s ome s a l t mea t, two more ca ndl es a nd a s econd s ki n bo l e of wa ter, a nd a hea vy duffle cl oa k. Guenna r ha d not fel t col d. He wa s wea ri ng the coa t he a l wa ys wore on col d ni ghts i n the obs erva tory a nd very o en s l ept i n, when he ca me s tumbl i ng to bed a t da wn. It wa s a good s heeps ki n, fil thy from hi s rumma gi ngs i n the wrecka ge i n the dome a nd s corched a t the s l eeve-ends , but i t wa s a s wa rm a s ever, a nd wa s l i ke hi s own s ki n to hi m. He s a t i ns i de i t ea ng, ga zi ng out through the s phere of fra i l yel l ow ca ndl el i ght to the da rknes s of the tunnel beyond. Bord’s words , “You s houl d go fa rther i n,” were i n hi s mi nd. When he wa s done ea ng he bundl ed up the provi s i ons i n the cl oa k, took up the bundl e i n one ha nd a nd the l i ghted ca ndl e i n the other, a nd s et off down the s i de-tunnel a nd then the a di t, down a nd i nwa rd. A er a few hundred pa ces he ca me to a ma jor cros s tunnel , off whi ch ra n ma ny s hort l ea ds a nd s ome l a rge rooms or s topes . He turned l e , a nd pres entl y pa s s ed a bi g s tope i n three l evel s . He entered i t. The fa rthes t l evel wa s onl y a bout five feet under the roof, whi ch wa s s l l wel l mbered wi th pos ts a nd bea ms . In a comer of the ba ckmos t l evel , behi nd a n a ngl e of qua rtz i ntrus i on whi ch the mi ners ha d l e ju ng out a s a s uppor ng bu res s , he ma de hi s new ca mp, s e ng out the food, wa ter, nderbox, a nd ca ndl es where they woul d come under hi s ha nd ea s i l y i n the da rk, a nd l a yi ng the cl oa k a s a ma res s on the floor, whi ch wa s of a rubbl y, ha rd cl a y. Then he put out the ca ndl e, a l rea dy burned down by a qua rter of i ts l ength, a nd l a y down i n the da rk. A er hi s thi rd return to tha t firs t s i de-tunnel , findi ng no s i gn tha t Bord ha d come there, he went ba ck to hi s ca mp a nd s tudi ed hi s provi s i ons . There were s l l two l oa ves of brea d, ha l f a bo l e of wa ter, a nd the s a l t mea t, whi ch he ha d not yet touched; a nd four ca ndl es . He gues s ed tha t i t mi ght ha ve been s i x da ys s i nce Bord ha d come, but i t mi ght ha ve been three, or ei ght. He wa s thi rs ty, but da red not dri nk, s o l ong a s he ha d no other s uppl y. He s et off to fi nd wa ter. At firs t he counted hi s pa ces . A er a hundred a nd twenty he s a w tha t the mberi ng of the tunnel wa s a s kew, a nd there were pl a ces where the rubbl e fil l ha d broken through, ha l f fil l i ng the pa s s a ge. He ca me to a wi nze, a ver ca l s ha , ea s y to s cra mbl e down by wha t rema i ned of the wooden l a dder, but a er i t, i n the l ower l evel , he forgot to count hi s s teps . Once he pa s s ed a broken pi ck ha ndl e; fa rther on he s a w a mi ner’s di s ca rded hea dba nd, a s tump of ca ndl e s l l s tuck i n the forehea d s ocket. He dropped thi s i nto the pocket of hi s coa t a nd went on. The monotony of the wa l l s of hewn s tone a nd pl a nki ng dul l ed hi s mi nd. He wa l ked on l i ke one who wi l l wa l k forever. Da rknes s fol l owed hi m a nd went a hea d of hi m. Hi s ca ndl e burni ng s hort s pi l l ed a s trea m of hot ta l l ow on hi s fi ngers , hurti ng hi m. He dropped the ca ndl e, a nd i t went out. He groped for i t i n the s udden da rk, s i ckened by the reek of i ts s moke, l i i ng hi s hea d to a voi d tha t s nk of burni ng. Before hi m, s tra i ght before hi m, fa r a wa y, he s a w the s ta rs . Ti ny, bri ght, remote, ca ught i n a na rrow openi ng l i ke the s l ot i n the obs erva tory dome: a n obl ong ful l of s ta i rs i n bl a cknes s . He got up, forgetti ng a bout the ca ndl e, a nd bega n to run towa rds the s ta rs . They moved, da nci ng, l i ke the s ta rs i n the tel es cope fiel d when the cl ockwork mecha ni s m s huddered or when hi s eyes were very ti red. They da nced, a nd bri ghtened. He ca me a mong them, a nd they s poke to hi m. The fl a mes ca s t queer s ha dows on the bl a ckened fa ces a nd brought queer l i ghts out of the bri ght, l i vi ng eyes . “Here, then, who’s tha t? Ha nno?” “Wha t were you doi ng up tha t ol d dri ft, ma te?” “Hey, who i s tha t?” “Who the devi l , s top hi m—” 78

“Hey, ma te! Hol d on!” He ra n bl i nd i nto the da rk, ba ck the wa y he ha d come. The l i ghts fol l owed hi m a nd he cha s ed hi s own fa i nt, huge s ha dow down the tunnel . When the s ha dow wa s s wa l l owed by the ol d da rk a nd the ol d s i l ence ca me a ga i n he s l l s tumbl ed on, s toopi ng a nd gropi ng s o tha t he wa s o enes t on a l l fours or on hi s feet a nd one ha nd. At l a s t he dropped down a nd l a y huddl ed a ga i ns t the wa l l , hi s ches t ful l of fi re. Si l ence, da rk. He found the ca ndl e end i n the n hol der i n hi s pocket, l i ghted i t wi th the fli nt a nd s teel , a nd by i ts gl ow found the ver ca l s ha not fi y feet from where he ha d s topped. He ma de hi s wa y ba ck up to hi s ca mp. There he s l ept; woke a nd a te, a nd dra nk the l a s t of hi s wa ter; mea nt to get up a nd go s eeki ng wa ter a ga i n; fel l a s l eep, or i nto a doze or da ze, i n whi ch he drea med of a voi ce s pea ki ng to hi m. “ There you a re. Al l ri ght. Don’t s ta rtl e. I’l l do you no ha rm. I s a i d i t wa s n’t no knocker. Who ever hea rd of a knocker a s ta l l a s a ma n? Or who ever s een one, for tha t ma er. They’re wha t you don’t s ee, ma tes , I s a i d. And wha t we di d s ee wa s a ma n, count on i t. So wha t’s he doi ng i n the mi ne, s a i d they, a nd wha t i f he’s a ghos t, one of the l a ds tha t wa s ca ught when the hous e of wa ter broke i n the ol d s outh a di t, ma ybe, come wa l ki ng? Wel l then, I s a i d, I’l l go s ee tha t. I never s een a ghos t yet, for a l l I hea rd of them. I don’t ca re to s ee wha t’s not mea nt to be s een, l i ke the knocker fol k, but wha t ha rm to s ee Temon’s fa ce a ga i n, or ol d Tri p, ha ven’t I s een ’em i n drea ms , jus t the s a me, i n the ends , worki ng a wa y wi th thei r fa ces s wea ti ng s a me a s l i fe? Why not? So I come a l ong. But you’re no ghos t, nor mi ner. A des erter you mi ght be, or a thi ef. Or a re you out of your wi ts , i s tha t i t, poor ma n? Don’t fea r. Hi de i f you l i ke. Wha t’s i t to me? There’s room down here for you a nd me. Why a re you hi di ng from the l i ght of the s un?” “The s ol di ers ...” “I thought s o.” When the ol d ma n nodded, the ca ndl e bound to hi s forehea d s et l i ght l ea pi ng over the roof of the s tope. He s qua ed a bout ten feet from Guenna r, hi s ha nds ha ngi ng between hi s knees . A bunch of ca ndl es a nd hi s pi ck, a s hort-ha ndl ed, finel y s ha ped tool , hung from hi s bel t. Hi s fa ce a nd body, benea th the res tl es s s ta r of the ca ndl e, were rough s ha dows , ea rth-col ored. “Let me s ta y here.” “Sta y a nd wel come! Do I own the mi ne? Where di d you come i n, eh, the ol d dri a bove the ri ver? Tha t wa s l uck to find tha t, a nd l uck you turned thi s wa y i n the cros s cut, a nd di dn’t go ea s t i ns tea d. Ea s twa rd thi s l evel goes on to the ca ves . There’s grea t ca ves there; di d you know i t? Nobody knows but the mi ners . They opened up the ca ves before I wa s born, fol l owi ng the ol d l ode tha t l a y a l ong here s unwa rd. I s een the ca ves once, my da d took me, you s houl d s ee thi s once, he s a ys . See the worl d undernea th the worl d. A room there wa s no end to. A ca vern a s deep a s the s ky, a nd a bl a ck s trea m fa l l i ng i nto i t, fa l l i ng a nd fa l l i ng l l the l i ght of the ca ndl e fa i l ed a nd coul dn’t fol l ow i t, a nd s l l the wa ter wa s fa l l i ng on down i nto the pi t. The s ound of i t ca me up l i ke a whi s per wi thout a n end, out of the da rk. And on beyond tha t there’s other ca ves , a nd bel ow. No end to them, ma ybe. Who knows ? Ca ve under ca ve, a nd gl i eri ng wi th the ba rren crys ta l . It’s a l l ba rren s tone, there. And a l l worked out, here, yea rs a go. It’s a s a fe enough hol e you chos e, ma te, i f you ha dn’t come s tumbl i ng i n on us . Wha t wa s you a fter? Food? A huma n fa ce?” “Wa ter.” “No l a ck of tha t. Come on, I’l l s how you. Benea th here i n the l ower l evel there’s a l l too ma ny s pri ngs . You turned the wrong di rec on. I us ed to work down there, wi th the da mned col d wa ter up to my knees , before the vei n ra n out. A l ong me a go. Come on.” The ol d mi ner l e hi m i n hi s ca mp, a er s howi ng hi m where the s pri ng ros e a nd wa rni ng hi m not to fol l ow down the wa tercours e, for the mberi ng woul d be ro ed a nd a s tep or s ound mi ght bri ng the ea rth down. Down there a l l the mbers were covered wi th a deep gl i eri ng whi te fur, s a l tpeter perha ps , or a fungus : i t wa s very s tra nge, a bove the oi l y wa ter. When he wa s a l one a ga i n Guenna r thought he ha d drea med tha t whi te tunnel ful l of bl a ck wa ter, a nd the vi s i t of the mi ner. When he s a w a fli cker of l i ght fa r down the tunnel , he crouched behi nd the qua rtz bu res s wi th a grea t wedge of gra ni te i n hi s ha nd: for a l l hi s fea r a nd a nger a nd gri ef ha d come down to one thi ng here i n the da rknes s , a determi na on tha t no ma n woul d l a y ha nd on hi m. A bl i nd determi na ti on, bl unt a nd hea vy a s a broken s tone, hea vy i n hi s s oul . It wa s onl y the ol d ma n comi ng, wi th a hunk of dry chees e for hi m. He s a t wi th the a s tronomer, a nd ta l ked. Guenna r a te up the chees e, for he ha d no food l e , a nd l i s tened to the ol d ma n ta l k. As he l i s tened the wei ght s eemed to l i ft a l i ttl e, he s eemed to s ee a l i ttl e fa rther i n the da rk. “You’re no common s ol di er,” the mi ner s a i d, a nd he repl i ed, “No, I wa s a s tudent once,” but no more, beca us e he da red not tel l the mi ner who he wa s . The ol d ma n knew a l l the events of the regi on; he s poke of the burni ng of the Round Hous e on the hi l l , a nd of Count Bord. “He went off to the ci ty wi th them, wi th thes e bl a ck-gowns , to be tri ed, they do s a y, to come before thei r counci l . Tri ed for wha t? Wha t di d he ever do but hunt boa r a nd deer a nd foxen? Is i t the counci l of the foxen tryi ng hi m? Wha t’s i t a l l a bout, thi s s noopi ng a nd s ol di eri ng a nd burni ng a nd tryi ng? Be er l ea ve hones t fol k a l one. The count wa s hones t, a s fa r a s the ri ch ca n be, a fa i r l a ndl ord. But you ca n’t trus t them, none of s uch fol k. Onl y down here. You ca n trus t the men who go down i nto the mi ne. Wha t el s e ha s a ma n got down here but hi s own ha nds a nd hi s ma tes ’ ha nds ? Wha t’s between hi m a nd dea th, when there’s a fa l l i n the l evel or a wi nze cl os es a nd he’s i n the bl i nd end, but thei r ha nds , a nd thei r s hovel s , a nd thei r wi l l to di g hi m out? There’d be no s i l ver up there i n the s un i f there wa s n’t trus t between us down here i n the da rk. Down here you ca n count on your ma tes . And nobody comes but them. Ca n you s ee the owner i n hi s l a ce, or the s ol di ers , comi ng down the l a dders , comi ng down a nd down the grea t s ha ft i nto the da rk? Not them! They’re bra ve a t tra mpi ng on the gra s s , but wha t good’s a s word a nd s houti ng i n the da rk? I’d l i ke to s ee ’em come down here....”

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The next me he ca me a nother ma n wa s wi th hi m, a nd they brought a n oi l l a mp a nd a cl a y ja r of oi l , a s wel l a s more chees e, brea d, a nd s ome a ppl es . “It wa s Ha nno thought of the l a mp,” the ol d ma n s a i d. “A hempen wi ck i t i s , i f s he goes out bl ow s ha rp a nd s he’l l l i kel y ca tch up a ga i n. Here’s a dozen ca ndl es , too. Young Per s wi ped the l ot from the dol er, up on the gra s s .” “They a l l know I’m here?” “We do,” the mi ner s a i d bri efl y. “They don’t.” Some me a er thi s , Guenna r returned a l ong the l ower, wes t-l ea di ng l evel he ha d fol l owed before, l l he s a w the mi ners ’ ca ndl es da nce l i ke s ta rs ; a nd he ca me i nto the s tope where they were worki ng. They s ha red thei r mea l wi th hi m. They s howed hi m the wa ys of the mi ne, a nd the pumps , a nd the grea t s ha where the l a dders were a nd the ha ngi ng pul l eys wi th thei r buckets ; he s heered off from tha t, for the wi nd tha t ca me s ucki ng down the grea t s ha s mel l ed to hi m of burni ng. They took hi m ba ck a nd l et hi m work wi th them. They trea ted hi m a s a gues t, a s a chi l d. They ha d a dopted hi m. He wa s thei r s ecret. There i s not much good s pendi ng twel ve hours a da y i n a bl a ck hol e i n the ground a l l your l i fe l ong i f there’s nothi ng there, no s ecret, no trea s ure, nothi ng hi dden. There wa s the s i l ver, to be s ure. But where ten crews of fi een ha d us ed to work thes e l evel s a nd there ha d been no end to the groa n a nd cl a er a nd cra s h of the l oa ded buckets goi ng up on the s crea mi ng wi nch a nd the emp es ba ngi ng down to meet the tra mmers runni ng wi th thei r hea vy ca rts , now one crew of ei ght men worked: men over forty, ol d men, who ha d no s ki l l but mi ni ng. There wa s s l l s ome s i l ver there i n the ha rd gra ni te, i n l i l e vei ns a mong the ga ngue. Some mes they woul d l engthen a n end by one foot i n two weeks . “It wa s a grea t mi ne,” they s a i d wi th pri de. They s howed the a s tronomer how to s et a ga d a nd s wi ng the s l edge, how to go a t gra ni te wi th the finel y ba l a nced a nd s ha rppoi nted pi ck, how to s ort a nd “cob,” wha t to l ook for, the ra re bri ght bra nchi ngs of the pure meta l , the crumbl i ng ri ch rock of the ore. He hel ped them da i l y. He wa s i n the s tope wa i ng for them when they ca me, a nd s pel l ed one or a nother on a nd off a l l da y wi th the s hovel work, or s ha rpeni ng tool s , or runni ng the ore-ca rt down i ts grooved pl a nk to the grea t s ha , or worki ng i n the ends . There they woul d not l et hi m work l ong; pri de a nd ha bi t forba de i t. “Here, l ea ve off choppi ng a t tha t l i ke a woodcu er. Look: thi s wa y, s ee?” But then a nother woul d a s k hi m, “Gi ve me a bl ow here, l a d, s ee, on the ga d, tha t’s i t.” They fed hi m from thei r own coa rs e mea ger mea l s . In the ni ght, a l one i n the hol l ow ea rth, when they ha d cl i mbed the l ong l a dders up “to gra s s ” a s they s a i d, he l a y a nd thought of them, thei r fa ces , thei r voi ces , thei r hea vy, s ca rred, ea rth-s ta i ned ha nds , ol d men’s ha nds wi th thi ck na i l s bl a ckened by brui s i ng rock a nd s teel ; thos e ha nds , i ntel l i gent a nd vul nera bl e, whi ch ha d opened up the ea rth a nd found the s hi ni ng s i l ver i n the s ol i d rock. The s i l ver they never hel d, never kept, never s pent. The s i l ver tha t wa s not thei rs . “If you found a new vei n, a new l ode, wha t woul d you do?” “Open her, a nd tel l the ma s ters .” “Why tel l the ma s ters ?” “Why, ma n! We gets pa i d for wha t we bri ngs up! D’you thi nk we does thi s da mned work for l ove?” “Yes .” They a l l l a ughed a t hi m, l oud, jeeri ng l a ughter, i nnocent. The l i vi ng eyes s hone i n thei r fa ces bl a ckened wi th dus t a nd s wea t. “Ah, i f we coul d find a new l ode! The wi fe woul d keep a pi g l i ke we ha d once, a nd by God I’d s wi m i n beer! But i f there’s s i l ver they’d ha ve found i t; tha t’s why they pus hed the worki ngs s o fa r ea s t. But i t’s ba rren there, a nd worked out here, tha t’s the s hort a nd l ong of i t.” Ti me s tretched behi nd hi m a nd a hea d of hi m l i ke the da rk dri s a nd cros s cuts of the mi ne, a l l pres ent a t once, wherever he wi th hi s s ma l l ca ndl e mi ght be a mong them. When he wa s a l one now the a s tronomer o en wa ndered i n the tunnel s a nd the ol d s topes , knowi ng the da ngerous pl a ces , the deep l evel s ful l of wa ter, a dept a t s ha ky l a dders a nd ght pl a ces , i ntri gued by the pl a y of hi s ca ndl e on the rock wa l l s a nd fa ces , the gl i er of mi ca tha t s eemed to come from deep i ns i de the s tone. Why di d i t s ome mes s hi ne out tha t wa y? a s i f the ca ndl e found s omethi ng fa r wi thi n the s hi ni ng broken s urfa ce, s omethi ng tha t wi nked i n a ns wer a nd occul ted, a s i f i t ha d s l i pped behi nd a cl oud or a n uns een pl a net’s di s c. “There a re s ta rs i n the ea rth,” he thought. “If one knew how to s ee them.” Awkwa rd wi th the pi ck, he wa s cl ever wi th ma chi nery; they a dmi red hi s s ki l l , a nd brought hi m tool s . He repa i red pumps a nd wi ndl a s s es ; he fixed up a l a mp on a cha i n for “young Per” worki ng i n a l ong na rrow dea dend, wi th a reflector ma de from a n ca ndl e-hol der bea ten out i nto a curved s heet a nd pol i s hed wi th fine rock-dus t a nd the s heeps ki n l i ni ng of hi s coa t. “It’s a ma rvel ,” Per s a i d. “Li ke da yl i ght. Onl y, bei ng behi nd me, i t don’t go out when the a i r gets ba d, a nd tel l me I s houl d be ba cki ng out for a brea th.” For a ma n ca n go on worki ng i n a na rrow end for s ome ti me a fter hi s ca ndl e ha s gone out for l a ck of oxygen. “You s houl d ha ve a bel l ows ri gged there.” “Wha t, l i ke I wa s a forge?” “Why not?” “Do ye ever go up to the gra s s , ni ghts ?” a s ked Ha nno, l ooki ng wi s ul l y a t Guenna r. Ha nno wa s a mel a nchol y, though ul , 80

s ofthea rted fel l ow. “Jus t to l ook a bout you?” Guenna r di d not a ns wer. He went off to hel p Bra n wi th a mberi ng job; the mi ners di d a l l the work tha t ha d once been done by crews of ti mberers , tra mmers , s orters , a nd s o on. “He’s dea thl y a fra i d to l ea ve the mi ne,” Per s a i d, l ow. “Jus t to s ee the s ta rs a nd get a brea th of the wi nd,” Ha nno s a i d, a s i f he wa s s ti l l s pea ki ng to Guenna r. One ni ght the a s tronomer emp ed out hi s pockets a nd l ooked a t the s tuff tha t ha d been i n them s i nce the ni ght of the burni ng of the obs erva tory: thi ngs he ha d pi cked up i n thos e hours whi ch he now coul d not remember, thos e hours when he ha d groped a nd s tumbl ed i n the s mol deri ng wrecka ge, s eeki ng... s eeki ng wha t he ha d l os t.... He no l onger thought of wha t he ha d l os t. It wa s s ea l ed off i n hi s mi nd by a thi ck s ca r, a burn-s ca r. For a l ong me thi s s ca r i n hi s mi nd kept hi m from unders ta ndi ng the na ture of the objects now ra nged before hi m on the dus ty s tone floor of the mi ne: a wa d of pa pers s corched a l l a l ong one s i de; a round pi ece of gl a s s or crys ta l ; a meta l tube; a bea u ful l y worked wooden cogwheel ; a bi t of twi s ted bl a ckened copper etched wi th fine l i nes ; a nd s o on, bi ts , wrecks , s cra ps . He put the pa pers ba ck i nto hi s pocket, wi thout tryi ng to s epa ra te the bri l e ha l f-fus ed l ea ves a nd ma ke out the fine s cri pt. He con nued to l ook a t a nd occa s i ona l l y to pi ck up a nd exa mi ne the other thi ngs , es peci a l l y the pi ece of gl a s s . Thi s he knew to be the eyepi ece of hi s ten-i nch tel es cope. He ha d ground the l ens hi ms el f. When he pi cked i t up he ha ndl ed i t del i ca tel y, by the edges , l es t the a ci d of hi s s ki n etch the gl a s s . Fi na l l y he bega n to pol i s h i t cl ea n, us i ng a wi s p of fine l a mbs wool from hi s coa t. When i t wa s cl ea r, he hel d i t up a nd l ooked a t a nd through i t a t a l l a ngl es . Hi s fa ce wa s ca l m a nd i ntent, hi s l i ght wi de-s et eyes s tea dy. Ti l ted i n hi s fingers , the tel es cope l ens reflected the l a mp fla me i n one bri ght ny poi nt nea r the edge a nd s eemi ngl y benea th the curve of the fa ce, a s i f the l ens ha d kept a s ta r i n i t from the ma ny hundred ni ghts i t ha d been turned towa rd the s ky. He wra pped i t ca reful l y i n the wi s p of wool a nd ma de a pl a ce for i t i n the rock ni che wi th hi s other thi ngs one by one.

nderbox. Then he took up the

Duri ng the next weeks the mi ners s a w thei r fugi ve l es s o en whi l e they worked. He wa s off a grea t dea l by hi ms el f: expl ori ng the des erted ea s tern regi ons of the mi ne, he s a i d, when they a s ked hi m wha t he di d. “Wha t for?” “Pros pecti ng,” he s a i d wi th the bri ef, wi nci ng s mi l e tha t ga ve hi m a very cra zy l ook. “Oh, l a d, wha t do you know a bout tha t? She’s a l l ba rren there. The s i l ver’s gone; a nd they found no ea s tern l ode. You mi ght be fi ndi ng a bi t of poor ore or a vei n of ti ns tone, but nothi ng worth the di ggi ng.” “How do you know wha t’s i n the ea rth, i n the rock under your feet, Per?” “I know the s i gns , l a d. Who s houl d know better?” “But i f the s i gns a re hi dden?” “Then the s i l ver’s hi dden.” “Yet you know i t i s there, i f you knew where to di g, i f you coul d s ee i nto the rock. And wha t el s e i s there? You find the meta l , beca us e you s eek i t, a nd di g for i t. But wha t el s e mi ght you fi nd, deeper tha n the mi ne, i f you s ought, i f you knew where to di g?” “Rock,” s a i d Per. “Rock, a nd rock, a nd rock.” “And then?” “And then? Hel l fire, for a l l I know. Why el s e does i t get ho er a s the s ha s go deeper? Tha t’s wha t they s a y. Ge ng nea rer hel l .” “No,” the a s tronomer s a i d, cl ea r a nd fi rm. “No. There i s no hel l benea th the rocks .” “Wha t i s there, then, undernea th i t a l l ?” “The s ta rs .” “Ah,” s a i d the mi ner, floored. He s cra tched hi s rough, ta l l ow-cl o ed ha i r, a nd l a ughed. “ There’s a pos er,” he s a i d, a nd s ta red a t Guenna r wi th pi ty a nd a dmi ra on. He knew Guenna r wa s ma d, but the s i ze of hi s ma dnes s wa s a new thi ng to hi m, a nd a dmi ra bl e. “Wi l l you fi nd ’em then, the s ta rs ?” “If I l ea rn how to l ook,” Guenna r s a i d, s o ca l ml y tha t Per ha d no res pons e but to heft hi s s hovel a nd get ba ck to l oa di ng the ca rt. One morni ng when the mi ners ca me down they found Guenna r s l l s l eepi ng, rol l ed up i n the ba ered cl oa k Count Bord ha d gi ven hi m, a nd by hi m a s tra nge object, a contra p on ma de of s i l ver tubi ng, n s truts a nd wi res bea ten from ol d hea dl a mps ockets , a fra me of pi ck ha ndl es ca reful l y ca rved a nd fi ed, cogged wheel s , a bi t of twi nkl i ng gl a s s . It wa s el us i ve, ma kes hi , del i ca te, cra zy, i ntri ca te. “Wha t the devi l ’s tha t?” They s tood a bout a nd s ta red a t the thi ng, the l i ghts of thei r hea dl a mps centeri ng on i t, a yel l ow bea m s ometi mes fl i ckeri ng over the s l eepi ng ma n a s one or a nother gl a nced a t hi m. 81

“He ma de i t, s ure.” “Sure enough.” “Wha t for?” “Don’t touch i t.” “I wa s n’t goi ng to.” Rous ed by thei r voi ces , the a s tronomer s a t up. The yel l ow bea ms of the ca ndl es brought hi s fa ce out whi te a ga i ns t the da rk. He rubbed hi s eyes a nd greeted them. “Wha t woul d tha t be, l a d?” He l ooked troubl ed or confus ed when he s a w the object of thei r curi os i ty. He put a ha nd on i t protec vel y, yet he l ooked a t i t hi ms el f wi thout s eemi ng to recogni ze i t for a whi l e. At l a s t he s a i d, frowni ng a nd s pea ki ng i n a whi s per, “It’s a tel es cope.” “Wha t’s tha t?” “A devi ce tha t ma kes di s ta nt thi ngs cl ea r to the eye.” “How come?” one of the mi ners a s ked, ba ffled. The a s tronomer a ns wered hi m wi th growi ng a s s ura nce. “By vi rtue of certa i n proper es of l i ght a nd l ens es . The eye i s a del i ca te i ns trument, but i t i s bl i nd to ha l f the uni vers e—fa r more tha n ha l f. The ni ght s ky i s bl a ck, we s a y: between the s ta rs i s voi d a nd da rknes s . But turn the tel es cope-eye on tha t s pa ce between the s ta rs , a nd l o, the s ta rs ! Sta rs too fa i nt a nd fa r for the eye a l one to s ee, ra nk behi nd ra nk, gl ory beyond gl ory, out to the u ermos t bounda ri es of the uni vers e. Beyond a l l i ma gi na on, i n the outer da rknes s , there i s l i ght: a grea t gl ory of s unl i ght. I ha ve s een i t. I ha ve s een i t, ni ght a er ni ght, a nd ma pped the s ta rs , the bea cons of God on the s hores of da rknes s . And here too there i s l i ght! There i s no pl a ce bere of the l i ght, the comfort a nd ra di a nce of the crea tor s pi ri t. There i s no pl a ce tha t i s downca s t, outl a wed, fors a ken. There i s no pl a ce l e da rk. Where the eyes of God ha ve s een, there l i ght i s . We mus t go fa rther, we mus t l ook fa rther! There i s l i ght i f we wi l l s ee i t. Not wi th eyes a l one, but wi th the s ki l l of the ha nds a nd the knowl edge of the mi nd a nd the hea rt’s fa i th i s the uns een revea l ed, a nd the hi dden ma de pl a i n. And a l l the da rk ea rth s hi nes l i ke a s l eepi ng s ta r.” He s poke wi th tha t a uthori ty whi ch the mi ners knew bel onged by ri ghts to the pri es ts , to the grea t words pri es ts s poke i n the echoi ng churches . It di d not bel ong here, i n the hol e where they grubbed thei r l i vi ng, i n the words of a cra zy fugi ve. La ter on, one ta l ki ng to a nother, they s hook thei r hea ds , or ta pped them. Per s a i d, “ The ma dnes s i s growi ng i n hi m,” a nd Ha nno s a i d, “Poor s oul , poor s oul !” Yet there wa s not one of them who di d not, a l s o, bel i eve wha t the a s tronomer ha d tol d them. “Show me,” s a i d ol d Bra n, findi ng Guenna r a l one i n a deep ea s tern dri , bus y wi th hi s i ntri ca te devi ce. It wa s Bra n who ha d fi rs t fol l owed Guenna r, a nd brought hi m food, a nd l ed hi m ba ck to the others . The a s tronomer wi l l i ngl y s tood a s i de a nd s howed Bra n how to hol d the devi ce poi n ng downwa rd a t the tunnel floor, a nd how to a i m a nd focus i t, a nd tri ed to des cri be i ts func on a nd wha t Bra n mi ght s ee: a l l hes i ta ntl y, s i nce he wa s not us ed to expl a i ni ng to the i gnora nt, but wi thout i mpa ti ence when Bra n di d not unders ta nd. “I don’t s ee nothi ng but the ground,” the ol d ma n s a i d a er a l ong a nd s ol emn obs erva on wi th the i ns trument. “And the l i l e dus t a nd pebbl es on i t.” “ The l a mp bl i nds your eyes , perha ps ,” the a s tronomer s a i d wi th humi l i ty. “It i s be er to l ook wi thout l i ght. I ca n do i t beca us e I ha ve done i t for s o l ong. It i s a l l pra cti ce—l i ke pl a ci ng the ga ds , whi ch you a l wa ys do ri ght, a nd I a l wa ys do wrong.” “Aye. Ma ybe. Tel l me wha t you s ee—” Bra n hes i ta ted. He ha d not l ong a go rea l i zed who Guenna r mus t be. Knowi ng hi m to be a here c ma de no di fference but knowi ng hi m to be a l ea rned ma n ma de i t ha rd to ca l l hi m “ma te” or “l a d.” And yet here, a nd a er a l l thi s me, he coul d not ca l l hi m Ma s ter. There were mes when, for a l l hi s mi l dnes s , the fugi ve s poke wi th grea t words , gri ppi ng one’s s oul , ti mes when i t woul d ha ve been ea s y to ca l l hi m Ma s ter. But i t woul d ha ve fri ghtened hi m. The a s tronomer put hi s ha nd on the fra me of hi s mecha ni s m a nd repl i ed i n a s oft voi ce, “There a re... cons tel l a ti ons .” “Wha t’s tha t, cons tel l a ti ons ?” The a s tronomer l ooked a t Bra n a s i f from a grea t wa y off, a nd s a i d pres entl y, “ The Wa i n, the Scorpi on, the Si ckl e by the Mi l ky Wa y i n s ummer, thos e a re cons tel l a ti ons . Pa tterns of s ta rs , ga theri ngs of s ta rs , pa renthoods , s embl a nces ...” “And you s ee thos e here, wi th thi s ?” S l l l ooki ng a t hi m through the wea k l a mpl i ght wi th cl ea r broodi ng eyes , the a s tronomer nodded, a nd di d not s pea k, but poi nted downwa rd, a t the rock on whi ch they s tood, the hewn fl oor of the mi ne. “Wha t a re they l i ke?” Bra n’s voi ce wa s hus hed. “I ha ve onl y gl i mps ed them. Onl y for a moment. I ha ve not l ea rned the s ki l l ; i t i s a s omewha t di fferent s ki l l .... But they a re there, Bra n.” O en now he wa s not i n the s tope where they worked, when they ca me to work, a nd di d not joi n them even for thei r mea l , though they a l wa ys l e hi m a s ha re of food. He knew the wa ys of the mi ne now be er tha n a ny of them, even Bra n, not onl y the “l i vi ng” mi ne but the “dea d” one, the a ba ndoned worki ngs a nd expl ora tory tunnel s tha t ra n ea s twa rd, ever deeper, towa rds the ca ves . There he wa s mos t often; a nd they di d not fol l ow hi m. When he di d a ppea r a mongs t them a nd they ta l ked wi th hi m, they were more ti mi d wi th hi m, a nd di d not l a ugh. One ni ght a s they were a l l goi ng ba ck wi th the l a s t ca rtl oa d to the ma i n s ha , he ca me to meet them, s teppi ng s uddenl y out of 82

a cros s cut to thei r ri ght. As a l wa ys he wore hi s ra gged s heeps ki n coa t, bl a ck wi th the cl a y a nd di rt of the tunnel s . Hi s fa i r ha i r ha d gone grey. Hi s eyes were cl ea r. “Bra n,” he s a i d, “come, I ca n s how you now.” “Show me wha t?” “The s ta rs . The s ta rs benea th the rock. There’s a grea t cons tel l a ti on i n the s tope on the ol d fourth l evel , where the whi te gra ni te cuts down through the bl a ck.” “I know the pl a ce.” “It’s there: underfoot, by tha t wa l l of whi te rock. A grea t s hi ni ng a nd a s s embl y of s ta rs . Thei r ra di a nce bea ts up through the da rknes s . They a re l i ke the fa ces of da ncers , the eyes of a ngel s . Come a nd s ee them, Bra n!” The mi ners s tood there, Per a nd Ha nno wi th ba cks bra ced to hol d the ca rt from rol l i ng: s tooped men wi th red, di rty fa ces a nd bi g ha nds bent a nd ha rdened by the gri p of s hovel a nd pi ck a nd s l edge. They were emba rra s s ed, compa s s i ona te, i mpa ti ent. “We’re jus t qui tti ng. Off home to s upper. Tomorrow,” Bra n s a i d. The a s tronomer l ooked from one fa ce to a nother a nd s a i d nothi ng. Ha nno s a i d i n hi s hoa rs e gentl e voi ce, “Come up wi th us , for thi s once, l a d. It’s da rk ni ght out, a nd l i kel y ra i ni ng; i t’s November now; no s oul wi l l s ee you i f you come a nd s i t a t my hea rth, for once, a nd ea t hot food, a nd s l eep benea th a roof a nd not under the hea vy ea rth a l l by yours el f a l one!” Guenna r s tepped ba ck. It wa s a s i f a l i ght went out, a s hi s fa ce went i nto s ha dow. “No,” he s a i d. “They wi l l burn out my eyes .” “Lea ve hi m be,” s a i d Per, a nd s et the hea vy ore-ca rt movi ng towa rds the s ha ft. “Look where I tol d you,” Guenna r s a i d to Bra n. “The mi ne i s not dea d. Look wi th your own eyes .” “Aye. I’l l come wi th you a nd s ee. Good ni ght!” “Good ni ght,” s a i d the a s tronomer, a nd turned ba ck to the s i de-tunnel a s they went on. He ca rri ed no l a mp or ca ndl e; they s a w hi m one moment, da rknes s the next. In the morni ng he wa s not there to meet them. He di d not come. Bra n a nd Ha nno s ought hi m, i dl y a t firs t, then for one whol e da y. They went a s fa r down a s they da red, a nd ca me a t l a s t to the entra nce of the ca ves , a nd entered, ca l l i ng s ome mes , though i n the grea t ca verns even they, mi ners a l l thei r l i ves , da red not ca l l a l oud beca us e of the terror of the endl es s echoes i n the da rk. “He ha s gone down,” Bra n s a i d. “Down fa rther. Tha t’s wha t he s a i d. Go fa rther, you mus t go fa rther, to fi nd the l i ght.” “There i s no l i ght,” Ha nno whi s pered. “There wa s never l i ght here. Not s i nce the worl d’s crea ti on.” But Bra n wa s a n obs na te ol d ma n, wi th a l i tera l a nd credul ous mi nd; a nd Per l i s tened to hi m. One da y the two went to the pl a ce the a s tronomer ha d s poken of, where a grea t vei n of ha rd l i ght gra ni te tha t cut down through the da rker rock ha d been l eft untouched, fi y yea rs a go, a s ba rren s tone. They re- mbered the roof of the ol d s tope where the s upports ha d wea kened, a nd bega n to di g, not i nto the whi te rock but down, bes i de i t; the a s tronomer ha d l e a ma rk there, a ki nd of cha rt or s ymbol dra wn wi th ca ndl e-bl a ck on the s tone floor. They ca me on s i l ver ore a foot down, benea th the s hel l of qua rtz; a nd under tha t—a l l ei ght of them worki ng now—the s tri ki ng pi cks l a i d ba re the ra w s i l ver, the vei ns a nd bra nches a nd knots a nd nodes s hi ni ng a mong broken crys ta l s i n the s ha ttered rock, l i ke s ta rs a nd ga theri ngs of s ta rs , depth bel ow depth wi thout end, the l i ght.

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THE FIELD OF VISION

I ha rdl y know wha t to s a y a bout "The Fi el d of Vi s i on"; i t i s a s ort of s ubl i ma ted temper ta ntrum. An i ndi gna nt Le er to the Edi tor. A ra s pberry. Shel l ey wa s ki cked out of Oxford—I thi nk the s tory i s una uthen ca ted, but who ca res —beca us e he pa i nted a s i gn on the end wa l l of a dea d-end a l l ey: THIS WAY TO HEAVEN. I feel tha t every now a nd then hi s s i gn needs repa i nti ng. I s a w Eterni ty the other ni ght Li ka a grea t Ri ng of pure a nd endl es s l i ght.... -Henry Va ugha n, 1621-1695 Reports from Ps yche XIV ca me i n regul a rl y, a l l rou ne, un l jus t before thei r return wi ndow opened. Then a l l a t once Comma nder Rogers ra di oed tha t they ha d l e s urfa ce, ha d rejoi ned the s hi p, a nd were commenci ng depa rture procedures —82 hours 18 mi nutes ea rl y. Hous ton of cours e dema nded expl a na ons , but Ps yche’s a ns wers were erra c. The 220-s econd a ns wer l a g di dn’t hel p. Ps yche kept brea ki ng conta ct. Once Rogers s a i d, “We ha ve got to bri ng her home now i f we’re goi ng to do i t a t a l l ,” a ppa rentl y i n a ns wer to Hous ton’s ques ons , but the next thi ng wa s Hughes a s ki ng for a rea di ng, a nd then s omethi ng a bout a dos a ge. The s un wa s noi s y a nd recepti on wa s very ba d. The voi ce tra ns mi s s i on cea s ed wi thout s i gn off. The a utoma c i nforma on feed from the s hi p con nued. Depa rture wa s norma l . Norma l reports ca me i n duri ng the twenty-s i x da ys of fli ght whi ch the a s trona uts s pent i n drugged s l eep on HKL a nd I.V. hookups . There wa s no medi ca l moni tor on Ps yche mi s s i ons . The onl y l i nk wi th the crew wa s voi ce conta ct. When they di d not ca l l i n on Da y 2, the l ong tens i on a t Hous ton ti ghtened to des pa i r. The onboa rd a utoma cs , di rected by the ground crew, ha d jus t a bout es ta bl i s hed Ps yche’s re-entry cours e when the dea d s pea kers s uddenl y s a i d i n Hughes ’s voi ce, “Hous ton, ca n you gi ve me rea di ngs . Op ca l i nterference here.” They tri ed to di rect hi m, but the one a empt he ma de a t a ma nua l correc on wa s di s a s trous , a nd took ground control five hours to compens a te. They tol d hi m ha nds off, they’d bri ng i n the s hi p. Al mos t i mmedi a tel y a fter tha t they l os t voi ce conta ct a ga i n. The grea t pa l e pa ra chutes opened a bove the grey Pa ci fic, ros es s l owl y fa l l i ng out of hea ven. The s peed-burnt s hi p s crea med s tea m, pl ungi ng; popped ba ck up a nd rocked, qui et, on the l ong deep s wel l s . Ground control ha d done a bea u ful job. She wa s down wi thi n a ha l f-ki l o of the Ca l i forni a . Hel i copters hovered, ra s a s s embl ed, the s hi p wa s s ta bi l i zed, the ha tch wa s opened. Nobody s cra mbl ed out. They went i n a nd brought them out. Comma nder Rogers wa s i n hi s fli ght s ea t, s l l s tra pped down a nd pl ugged i nto the HKL a nd I.V.s . He ha d been dea d a bout ten da ys , a nd i t wa s cl ea r why the others ha d not opened hi s s ui t. Ca pta i n Tems ki s eemed phys i ca l l y unhurt, but da zed a nd bewi l dered. He di d not s pea k, or res pond to i ns truc ons . They ha d to ma nha ndl e hi m to ha ul hi m out of the s hi p, though he put up no a cti ve res i s ta nce. Dr Hughes wa s i n a s ta te of col l a ps e, but ful l y cons ci ous ; he a ppea red to be bl i nd. “Pl ea s e...” “Ca n you s ee a nythi ng?” “Yes ! Pl ea s e l et me ha ve the bl i ndfol d.” “Do you s ee thi s l i ght I’m s howi ng? Wha t col or i s i t, Dr Hughes ?” “Al l col ors , whi te, i t’s too bri ght.” “Wi l l you poi nt towa rds i t, pl ea s e?” “It’s everywhere. It’s too bri ght.” “The room’s qui te da rk, Dr Hughes . Now, wi l l you open your eyes a ga i n, pl ea s e.” “It i s n’t da rk.” “Mmmh. Pos s i bl e s upers ens i ti vi ty here. Al l ri ght now, how a bout tha t? Da rk enough for you?” “Ma ke i t da rk!” “No, keep your ha nds down, pl ea s e. Ta ke i t ea s y. Al l ri ght, we’l l put the compres s es ba ck on.” The s truggl i ng ma n rel a xed a s s oon a s hi s eyes were covered, a nd l a y s l l , brea thi ng ha rd. Hi s na rrow fa ce, fra med i n a month’s growth of da rk bea rd, wa s oi l ed wi th s wea t. “I’m s orry,” he s a i d. “We’l l try a ga i n l a ter on when you’ve res ted.” “Wi l l you open your eyes , pl ea s e. The room’s qui te da rk.” “Why do you tel l me tha t when i t’s not da rk?” 84

“Dr Hughes , I ca n ha rdl y ma ke out your fa ce; I’ve got the fa i ntes t red i l l umi na ti on on my s cope—nothi ng el s e. Ca n you s ee me?” “No! I ca n’t s ee for the l i ght!” The doctor i ncrea s ed the i l l umi na ti on unti l he coul d s ee Hughes ’s fa ce, the cl enched ja w, the open, da zzl ed, fri ghtened eyes . “There, does tha t ma ke i t a ny da rker?” he a s ked wi th the s a rca s m of hel pl es s nes s . “No!” Hughes s hut hi s eyes ; he ha d gone dea d whi te. “Get di zzy,” he mu ered, “the whi rl i ng,” then he ga s ped for brea th a nd bega n to vomi t. Hughes wa s unma rri ed a nd ha d no i mmedi a te ki n. Hi s cl os es t fri end wa s known to be Berna rd Decel i s . They ha d tra i ned together; Decel i s ha d been s peci a l i s t on Ps yche XII, the mi s s i on tha t ha d di s covered the Ci ty of Ma rs , a s Hughes wa s on XIV. They flew Decel i s to the debri efing s ta on i n Pa s a dena a nd i ns tructed hi m to go i n a nd ta l k wi th hi s fri end. The convers a on wa s of cours e recorded. D. Hullo, Gerry. Decelis. H. Barnie? D. How you doing? H. Fine. You been OK? D. Sure. No picnic, was it? H. How’s Gloria? D. Fine, just fine. H. She got past “Aunt Rhody” yet? D. [laughs] Oh, Christ, yeah. She can play "Greensleeves” now. At least she calls it "Greensleeves.” H. What have they got you in this dump for? D. To see you. H. Wish I could return the compliment. D. You will. Listen. I’ve been assured by three different oculists, or whatever the hell they are, opthamollywhoggers, eye-doctors here, that there is absolutely nothing wrong with your eyes. Three opthamacadamizers and a neurologist, in fact. lt's a sort of chorus they have. But they sure as hell seem sure of it. H. So what's wrong is my brain, evidently. D. In the sense of a crossed connection, maybe. H. What about Joe Temski? D. I don’t know. Haven’t seen him. H. What did they tell you about him? D. They didn’t have a chorus line worked out for him. Just said he’s inclined to be withdrawn. H. Withdrawn! Jesus, I'll say so. Like a rock is withdrawn. D. Temski? That joker? H. It started with him. D. What did? H. At the site. He stopped answering. D. What happened? H. Just that. He stopped answering. Stopped talking. Stopped noticing. Dwight thought it was cafard. Is that what they’re still calling it? D. It's mentioned as one possibility. Was there anything special happened, there at the site? H. We found the room. D. The room, yeah. That all came back on your reports. I’ve seen them, and some of the holos you brought back with you. Fantas c. What the hell is it, Gerry?

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H. I don’t know. D. Is it a construct? H. I don’t know. What's the whole City? D. It was built, made; it must have been. H. How do you know, how can you tell, when you don’t know what made it? Is a seashell “made"? If you didn’t know, if you didn’t have any background and couldn’t assume any likeness, and you looked at a seashell and a ceramic ashtray, could you tell, could you say which was “made"? And what for? What does it mean? Or what about a ceramic seashell? Or a paperwasp’s nest? Or a geode? D. Yeah, OK. But what about those things, that... arrangement that you call “pigeonholes" in the reports? I saw the holos. H. What did you make of them? D. I don’t know. They’re weird. I thought of running the spa al arrangements through a computer, looking for meaningful pa ern....You don’t think much of that. H. No. Fine. Only what are you going to program for “meaning”? D. Mathematical relationships. Any kind of geometrical pattern, regularity, code. I don’t know. What was the place like, Gerry? H. I don’t know. D. You were in there a lot? H. All the time, after we found it. D. That's where you noticed this kind of eye trouble you’ve got? How did it start? H. Things going out of focus. Like eye strain. It was worse outside the room. Came on over several days. I could s ll make things out all right when we were taking the ML up to the ship. But ge ng worse. There’d be these flashes of light, le my depth percep on all screwed up, I’d get dizzy. Dwight and I set up the course, one or the other of us was functioning most of the time. But he was getting kind of wild. Didn’t want to use the radio, wouldn’t touch the onboard computer. D. What was... wrong with him? H. I don’t know. When I told him about my eyes he said he’d been having something like shaking fits. I said we’d be er get the hell up to the ship while we could. He said OK, because Joe was really beginning to not func on. Before we even launched he started having some kind of seizures, like epilepsy —Dwight, I mean. When he came out of one he was shaky, but he seemed ra onal. He took us up OK, but as soon as we docked in he went into another fit, and they kept ge ng longer. He started hallucina ng in between them. I gave him some tranquillizers and strapped him in; it was wearing him out. When I took the sleep, I don’t know, he could have been dead already then. D. No, he died in the sleep. About ten days out from Earth. H. They didn’t tell me that. D. There wasn’t anything you could have done, Gerry. H. I don’t know. Those a acks he had, they were like overloads. Like all his fuses blew. Burned him out. He talked, while he was in them. Sort of in bursts, like barking—as if he was trying to say a whole sentence at once. Epileptics don’t talk, do they, when they’re having a seizure? D. I don’t know. Epilepsy’s so well controlled now you don’t hear much about it. They catch the tendency, and cure it first. If Rogers had had the tendency... H. Yeah. He never would have been in the program. Christ, he’d had six months in space. D. What had you had—six days? H. Like you. One Moon hop. D. It isn’t that, then. Do you think... H. What? D. Some kind of virus? H. Space plague? Martian fever? Mysterious ancient spores madden astronauts? D. All right, it sounds dumb. But look, the room had been sealed. And it does sound like all of you— H. Dwight gets a cortical overcharge, Joe goes catatonic, I start seeing things. What’s the connection? D. Nervous system. 86

H. Why different symptoms in each of us? D. Well, drugs affect people differently— H. Do you think we found some kind of God damned Martian psychogenic mushrooms in there? There isn’t anything there, it’s dead, like all the rest of Mars. You know, you’ve been there! There aren’t any God damned germs or viruses, there's no life there, no life. D. But there may have been— H. What makes you think so? D. The room you found. The City we found. H. City! For Christ's sake, Barnie, you talk like some damned pop journalist, you know damned well the whole thing is a set of mud concre ons for all we can tell. There’s no way to tell. It’s too old, condi ons are too different, we have no context. We don’t understand, we can’t understand, it's something the human mind is outside of. Ci es, rooms, all that—we’re just analogizing, trying to make sense in our terms. But it's not in our terms. There is no sense. I can see that now. That's the only thing I can see! D. See what, Gerry? H. What I see when I open my eyes! D. What? H. Everything that isn’t there and doesn’t make sense. Oh—I— D. Here, come on. Take it easy. Look, it’ll be OK. It's going to be OK, Gerry, you’ll be OK. H. [unclear] light, and the [unclear] try to see what I touch and I can’t, I don’t understand and I can’t [unclear] D. Hang on. I’m right here. Take it easy, old man. Hughes , who ha d entered the s pa ce progra m from a s trophys i cs , ca me wi th a very good record, i n fa ct a bri l l i a nt one. Thi s troubl ed ma ny of hi s mi l i ta ry s uperi ors , to whom hi gh i ntel l i gence wa s a code word for i ns ta bi l i ty a nd i ns ubordi na on. Hi s performa nce ha d been s ol i d a nd hi s beha vi or i rreproa cha bl e; but now i t wa s frequentl y reca l l ed tha t he wa s , a er a l l , a n i ntel l ectua l . Tems ki wa s ha rder to expl a i n. He wa s a cra ck tes t pi l ot, a n Ai r Force ca pta i n, a nd a ba s eba l l fa n, but now hi s beha vi or wa s even more a berra nt tha n Hughes ’s . Al l Tems ki di d wa s s i t. He wa s ca pa bl e of l ooki ng a er hi ms el f, a nd di d s o. Tha t i s , when he wa s hungry a nd food wa s pres ent, he a te s ome wi th hi s fingers ; when he ha d to rel i eve hi ms el f, he went to a comer a nd di d s o; when he wa s s l eepy, he l a y down on the floor a nd s l ept. The res t of the me he s a t. He wa s i n good phys i ca l condi on a nd qui te ca l m. Nothi ng s a i d to hi m produced the s l i ghtes t rea c on, nor di d he ta ke a ny i nteres t i n a nythi ng tha t went on. Hi s wi fe wa s brought i n to s ee hi m i n hopes of produci ng a res pons e. She wa s ta ken a wa y weepi ng a fter fi ve mi nutes . Si nce Tems ki woul dn’t res pond, a nd Rogers , bei ng dea d, coul dn’t res pond, i t wa s qui te na tura l to l ook upon Hughes a s bei ng, s omehow, res pons i bl e. There wa s nothi ng wrong wi th hi m except a ca s e of s omethi ng l i ke hys teri ca l bl i ndnes s , s o i t wa s to be expected tha t he s houl d a ns wer ques ti ons ra ti ona l l y a nd expl a i n preci s el y wha t ha d ha ppened. Thi s , however, he coul d not, or woul d not, do. A ps ychi a tri c cons ul ta nt wa s brought i n, a di s ngui s hed New York doctor ca l l ed Sha pi r. He wa s reques ted to work wi th both Tems ki a nd Hughes . It wa s of cours e unthi nka bl e to a dmi t tha t the mi s s i on ha d been a fa i l ure (the word “di s a s ter” wa s not even men oned), but a coupl e of rumors ha d l ea ked out to the pres s des pi te a l l s ecuri ty preca u ons . Irres pons i bl e journa l i s ts dema nded to know why the crew of Ps yche XIV wa s bei ng hel d i ncommuni ca do, a nd cl a i med the “ri ght” of the Ameri ca n peopl e to “know,” etc. It ha d been neces s a ry to i s s ue a s ta tement concerni ng a new hea l th tes t bei ng run on a s trona uts who ha d s pent over fi een da ys i n s pa ce, due to Comma nder Rogers ’s unexpected a nd tra gi c dea th from hea rt fa i l ure, a nd to ha ve a whol e new s eri es of a r cl es wri en for the pa pers concerni ng pl a ns for a “Li l e Ameri ca ” dome ci ty on Ma rs , to ma i nta i n a pos i ve a tude i n the publ i c. The rea l peopl e of cours e knew tha t the res t of the Ps yche progra m wa s i n jeopa rdy; a nd they i ns tructed Dr Sha pi r to di a gnos e a nd cure the a s trona uts wi th a l l del i bera te s peed. Sha pi r ta l ked wi th Hughes for ha l f a n hour a bout the food i n the hos pi ta l , Ca l Tech, a nd the l a tes t Chi nes e report on thei r Al pha Centa uri probe, a l l very rel a xed a nd tri vi a l . Then he s a i d, “Wha t i s i t you s ee, when you open your eyes ?” Hughes , who wa s up a nd dres s ed now, s a t s i l ent for a whi l e. Opa que goggl es covered hi s eyes en rel y, gi vi ng hi m the a rroga nt, s ta ri ng l ook of peopl e who a ffect da rk gl a s s es . “Nobody’s a s ked tha t,” he s a i d. “Di dn’t the ocul i s ts ?” “Yes , I gues s Kra y di d. Ea rl y on. Before they deci ded I wa s a menta l ca s e.” “Wha t di d you tel l hi m?” “It’s ha rd to des cri be. The poi nt i t, i t’s i ndes cri ba bl e. At firs t i t wa s thi ngs goi ng out of focus , goi ng tra ns pa rent, goi ng a wa y. Then the l i ght. Too much l i ght. Li ke overexpos i ng a fil m, bl ea chi ng everythi ng out. But wi th tha t, a ki nd of whi rl i ng. Cha ngi ng pos i ons a nd rel a ons hi ps , cha ngi ng pers pec ves , cons ta nt tra ns forma on. It ma de me get di zzy. My eyes kept s endi ng s i gna l s to my i nner ea rs , I gues s . Li ke tha t i nner-ea r di s ea s e, onl y i n revers e. Does n’t i t foul up your s pa ti a l ori enta ti on?” 87

“Meni ere’s s yndrome, I thi nk i t’s ca l l ed, yes , i t does . Es peci a l l y on s ta i rs a nd s l opes .” “It’s a s i f I wa s l ooki ng from a grea t hei ght, or... up a t a grea t hei ght....” “Hei ghts ever worry you?” “Hel l no. They don’t even mea n a nythi ng to me. Wha t’s up a nd down, i n s pa ce? No, s ee, I’m not gi vi ng you the pi cture. There i s no pi cture. I’ve been tryi ng to l ook more, to l ea rn to... how to s ee... i t’s not much good.” There wa s a pa us e. “Tha t ta kes coura ge,” s a i d Sha pi r. “Wha t do you mea n?” the a s trona ut s a i d s ha rpl y. “Wel l ... To ha ve the s ens ory i nput whi ch i s mos t i mporta nt to the cons ci ous mi nd—s i ght—repor ng nonexi s tent a nd i ncomprehens i bl e thi ngs , i n fla gra nt contra di c on wi th a l l other s ens ory i nput—your touch, your hea ri ng, your s ens e of ba l a nce, a nd s o on—to ha ve tha t goi ng on, every me you try to open your eyes , a nd not onl y to l i ve wi th i t but to a ttempt to i nves ti ga te i t... It does n’t s ound ea s y.” “So mos tl y I keep my eyes s hut,” Hughes s a i d, dour. “Li ke a da mned s ee-no-evi l monkey.” “When you do ha ve your eyes open, a nd you l ook towa rds s ome object you know i s there—your own ha nd, for i ns ta nce—wha t do you s ee?” “ ‘A bl oomi ng, buzzi ng confus i on.’ ” “Wi l l i a m Ja mes ,” Sha pi r s a i d wi th s a s fa c on. “Wha t wa s he ta l ki ng a bout—how a ba by percei ves the worl d, eh?” He ha d a pl ea s a nt voi ce wi th a mi l d, gl a nci ng qua l i ty to i t, non-percus s i ve; one coul d not i ma gi ne hi m s col di ng or yel l i ng. He nodded s evera l mes , thi nki ng out the i mpl i ca ons of wha t Hughes ha d s a i d. “ To l ea rn how to s ee, you s a i d. To l ea rn. Tha t’s how you feel a bout i t?” Hughes hes i ta ted, then s a i d wi th a s udden, ma rked i ncrea s e of trus t, “I ha ve to. Wha t el s e ca n I do? Appa rentl y I’m never goi ng to be a bl e to—to s ee the wa y I us ed to, the wa y other peopl e do, a ga i n. But I s l l do s ee. Onl y I don’t unders ta nd wha t I s ee, i t does n’t ma ke s ens e. There a re no outl i nes , no di s nc ons , even between nea rer a nd fa rther. There i s s omethi ng there— onl y I ca n’t s a y tha t, beca us e there a ren’t a ny thi ngs . No forms . Ins tea d of forms , I s ee tra ns forma ons — tra ns figura ons . Does tha t ma ke a ny s ens e a t a l l ?” “I thi nk i t does ,” Sha pi r s a i d, “onl y i t’s enormous l y di fficul t to put a di rect experi ence i nto words . And when the experi ence i s new, uni que, overwhel mi ng...” “And i rra ti ona l . Tha t’s i t.” Hughes s poke now wi th rea l gra ti tude. “If onl y I coul d s how i t to you,” he s a i d wi s tful l y. The two a s trona uts were bei ng kept on the tenth floor of a bi g mi l i ta ry hos pi ta l i n Ma ryl a nd now. They were not permi ed to l ea ve tha t floor, a nd a nyone who vi s i ted i t s l l s pent ten da ys i n qua ra n ne before he rejoi ned the outer worl d: the Ma r a n pl a gue theory wa s currentl y on top. At Sha pi r’s i ns i s tence, Hughes wa s a l l owed to go up to the roof ga rden of the hos pi ta l (a er whi ch the el eva tor wa s el a bora tel y s teri l i zed a nd roped off for three da ys ). They dema nded tha t Hughes wea r a s urgi ca l ma s k; a nd Sha pi r ha d a s ked hi m not to wea r hi s goggl es . Doci l e, he went up the el eva tor wi th hi s mouth a nd nos e covered, hi s eyes uncovered, but ti ghtl y s hut. The cha nge from the dus k of the el eva tor to the hot s moggy s unl i ght of Jul y on the open roof di d not, a s fa r a s Sha pi r coul d s ee, a ffect thos e s hut eyes . Hughes di d not s crew them ghter a ga i ns t the floodi ng l i ght, though he ra i s ed hi s fa ce to i t a s i f he fel t the hea t pl ea s a nt on hi s s ki n, a nd took a deep brea th through the bi ndi ng ga uze. “I ha ven’t been outs i de s i nce Ma rch,” he s a i d. It wa s true, of cours e. He ha d been i n a s pa ces ui t or i n a hos pi ta l room, brea thi ng ca nned or condi ti oned a i r. “Ha ve you got your compa s s bea ri ngs ?” Sha pi r a s ked. “Not the fa i ntes t. It ma kes me feel bl i nder, bei ng outdoors . Afra i d to wa l k off the edge.” Hughes ha d refus ed a s s i s ta nce comi ng through the corri dors a nd i n the el eva tor, feel i ng hi s wa y a deptl y wi th hi s ha nds , a nd now des pi te hi s joke a bout fa l l i ng off he bega n to expl ore the roof ga rden. He wa s exhi l a ra ted: a n a c ve ma n rel ea s ed from l ong confinement Sha pi r wa tched hi m, broodi ng. The l ow furni ture wa s a ha za rd to hi m but he l ea rned a t once how to feel for i t; he ha d ta c l e i ntel l i gence; there wa s gra ce i n hi s movements , even a s he bl undered i n bl i ndnes s . “Wi l l you open your eyes ?” Sha pi r s a i d i n hi s gl a nci ng, rel ucta nt voi ce. Hughes s topped. “Al l ri ght,” he s a i d; but he turned towa rds Sha pi r, a nd hi s ri ght ha nd ca me up gropi ngl y. Sha pi r ca me forwa rd a nd l et tha t ha nd ta ke hi s a rm. The gri p of i t ghtened, a s Hughes opened hi s eyes . Then Hughes l et go, a nd took a s tep a wa y, s tretchi ng out both hi s a rms . A cry broke from hi m. He rea ched forwa rd a nd upwa rd, hi s hea d ba ck, hi s eyes wi de open, s ta ri ng a t the empty s ky. “Oh, my God!” he whi s pered, a nd dropped, l i ke a ma n hi t by a s l edgeha mmer. Ps ychi a tri c couns el l i ng s es s i on, 18 Jul y. S. Sha pi r, Gera i nt Hughes . S. Hello. Sidney.... I won't stay long. Listen, that wasn't such a bright idea of mine. The roof. I’m sorry. I had no idea. But no right, either.... 88

Would you rather I left? H. No. S. All right... I'm ge ng s r-crazy myself. Need a good walk. I walk a good deal, usually. About two miles to my office and the same back. Then I add detours. Whatever they say, New York is a beau ful town to walk in. If you know how to pick your route. Listen, I have a queer story about Joe Temski. Not a story, just a queer fact, actually. Did you know that they have written on his record that he is “functionally deaf"? H. Deaf? S. Yes, deaf. Well, you know, I began to wonder. I go in and talk to Joe, you know, touch him, try to make eye contact, any kind of contact, to get through. No go. I’ve had pa ents tell me in so many words, “I can’t hear you.” A metaphor. But what if it isn’t a metaphor? It happens some mes with li le kids, they’re called retarded and it turns out they’ve got thirty, sixty, eighty percent hearing dysfunc on. Well, maybe Joe really can’t hear me. Just like you can’t see me. H. [pause of forty seconds] Do you mean he’s hearing things? Listening? S. It's possible H. [pause of twenty seconds] You can't shut your ears. S. That’s what I thought, too. It could be rough, couldn’t it? Well, what I thought was, what about trying to shut them for him? Put earplugs in his ears. H. He still wouldn’t be able to hear you. S. No, but he wouldn’t be distracted. If you had to watch your light show all the time, you wouldn’t be able to pay much a en on to me or anything else, right? Maybe its like that with Joe. Maybe there's this noise drowning out everything else for him. H. [pause of twenty seconds] It would be more than noise. S. I don't suppose you want to talk about... on the roof.... No, all right. H. You’d like to know what I saw, wouldn’t you? S. Sure I would. But in your own time. H. Yeah, I’ve got so much else to do here besides talk to you. All the books I can read and the beau ful women I can look at. You know damned well I’ll tell you eventually, because I haven’t got anybody else to talk to. S. Oh, hell, Geraint. [pause of ten seconds] H. Shit. I’m sorry, Sidney. If I didn’t have you to talk to, I’d have cracked completely. I know that. You’re very patient with me. S. Whatever you saw, up there, disturbs you. That's one reason why I want to know what it was. But what the hell, if you can handle it alone, do. That's the idea, a er all. My curiosity is my problem, not yours! Listen. Lets forget talking. Let me read you this ar cle in Science. Your Colonel Wood gave it to me, said you might be interested. I was. It’s on what they found inside the Argen nian meteorite. The authors are sugges ng we go comb the Meteor Belt for remnants of a transstellar fleet that came to grief in our solar system about six hundred million years ago. They would have landed on Mars, first, of course. Are these guys nuts? H. I don’t know. Read the article. Tems ki s l ept hea vi l y, a nd i t wa s ea s y for Sha pi r to i ns ert ordi na ry wa x pl ugs l i ke thos e i ns omni a cs us e i nto hi s ea rs whi l e he wa s a s l eep. When Tems ki woke he di d nothi ng unus ua l a t firs t. He s a t up, ya wned, s tretched, s cra tched, l ooked l a zi l y a round to s ee i f a nythi ng to ea t wa s ha ndy, i n tha t s erene wa y whi ch Sha pi r pri va tel y fel t wa s a l together unl i ke a ny ps ycho c beha vi or he ha d ever s een, a nd i n fa ct unl i ke a ny huma n beha vi or he ha d ever s een. Tems ki remi nded hi m of a hea l thy, poi s ed, contented, ta me a ni ma l . Not a chi mpa nzee; s omethi ng mi l der, more contempl a ti ve, a n ora ng, ma ybe. But the ora ng bega n to feel uncomforta bl e. Tems ki l ooked a round, l e a nd ri ght, nervous . Perha ps he wa s not l ooki ng but movi ng hi s hea d tryi ng to find the va ni s hed s ounds . The l os t chord, Sha pi r thought. Tems ki grew more a nd more di s turbed a nd a l ert. He got up, s l l turni ng hi s hea d res tl es s l y. He l ooked a cros s the room. For the fi rs t ti me i n s eventeen da ys of da i l y conta ct, he s a w Sha pi r. Hi s ha nds ome fa ce wa s now contorted wi th a nxi ety or bewi l derment. “Where,” he s a i d, “where—” Hi s ha nds , gropi ng a t hi s ea rs to find the ca us e of s i l ence, found the ea rpl ugs a nd removed one. Tha t wa s enough. “Ah,” he s a i d, a nd s tood s ti l l . Hi s eyes were s ti l l di rected towa rds Sha pi r, but he di d not s ee hi m. Hi s fa ce rel a xed. La ter a empts were more s ucces s ful . Though bewi l dered a t firs t, Tems ki wa s coopera ve whi l e a r fici a l l y dea fened, a nd res ponded rea di l y to Sha pi r’s a empts to communi ca te wi th hi m by touch, by s i gn, a nd fina l l y by wri ng. A er the fi h s uch s es s i on, Tems ki cons ented to l onger s es s i ons i nvol vi ng the us e of a drug whi ch woul d dea den hi s a udi tory nerve endi ngs for 89

a bout fi ve hours a t a ti me. Duri ng the s econd of thes e l ong peri ods he a s ked to s ee Hughes . Sha pi r ha d a l rea dy been i ns tructed to l et the two a s trona uts ta l k together i f pos s i bl e; there wa s a feel i ng tha t thi s mi ght el i ci t more i nforma on, i f they ta l ked freel y together. It wa s neces s a ry for Hughes to wri te, s i nce Tems ki wa s a r fici a l l y dea fened; a s he knew touch typi ng he ca rri ed on hi s pa rt of the di a l ogue on a porta bl e typewri ter. Not a l l the ma teri a l found i n the wa s teba s ket, however, coul d be s ucces s ful l y col l a ted i n to the ta pe of Tems ki ’s s poken convers a on. The two men mos tl y di s cus s ed the return journey a nd Comma nder Rogers ’s i l l nes s a nd dea th, whi ch Tems ki coul d not reca l l ; Hughes des cri bed a l l thi s a s he ha d done before wi thout new i nforma on. They di d not ta l k a bout the “room” (Si te D) or thei r res pecti ve di s a bi l i ti es , except a s fol l ows : T. It's not inside, is it? H. If it was, earplugs wd improve yr reception T. It's real, then. H. Hell yes T. See, when they first stuck those plugs in my ears, when I woke up and there was this silence, I was really spooked. It took me a long me to come back from where I’d been. And I didn’t much want to come back. But when Shapir began telling me how long it had been, and I realized this was Earth, you know, that's what spooked me—I thought, maybe all this has been some sort of, like, hallucination. You know. Jesus, have I been off my chump? That scared me. Like I was two different people. But I began to put it together, to see that it wasn’t a split, but a... H. Change T. Exactly, it changed me, it had changed me. It's real. Because when I can hear, that's what I hear. And when you can see, that's what you see. Right? In other words, it is real. We have to be artificially blinded and made deaf to not hear it and see it. That's it, isn’t it? [Hughe’s typed responses for the following section were not identifiable in the wastebasket material.] H. …......... T. Oh, no. Beautiful. It took me a long time, at least I know now it was a long time, to begin to get it. At first it didn’t make any sense, Jesus, it scared the balls off me at first. You or Dwight would say something, and there’d be this kind of chords all around your voice, like rainbows around a prism so you can’t even see the prism—yeah, that's what its like for you, isn’t it? Its the same, only this is with hearing, it's like everything turns into this music, only it isn’t music, it's... At first like I said I didn’t know how to hear it. I thought it was something wrong with my suit radio! Jesus! [laughs] I couldn’t follow the pa erns, you know, the modula ons, like, the transforma ons. It was all so different. But you learn. The more you listen the more you hear. I wish you could hear it. You know, you tell me it's two months since we left Mars, and so on, and shit, I believe you, but it doesn’t matter. It really doesn’t matter—does it, Gerry?

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H. …......... T. I wish I could see it, the way you do. It must be tremendous. But I’ll tell you, I’m glad they pull me out of it like this, every day now. I think its meant to be that way. I was kind of, I don’t know, swamped, overwhelmed, it's too much. We’re not built right, not quite strong enough, maybe. At least at first. Can’t take it all at once. What I’d like to try to do while I’m out of touch is try to write some of it down. H. …......... T. No, I don’t. But it wouldn't have to be music. See, it isn’t music, that’s just like a way of describing it because its beau ful. I think I could get it into words just as well. Maybe better. To say what it means.

91

H. …......... T. Afraid of what? Berna rd Decel i s a nd hi s wi fe ca l l ed Hughes every coupl e of da ys on the tel ephone, though they were prevented by the qua ra n ne from comi ng to s ee hi m. On the 27th of Jul y Hughes a nd Decel i s ha d a s i gni fica nt convers a on concerni ng the s oca l l ed room, Si te D of the Ps yche XIV s urvey. Decel i s s a i d, “If I don’t get on the Si xteen tea m a nd s ee tha t da mned pl a ce, I’l l fli p.” “Sei ng i s bel i evi ng,” Hughes rema rked. He wa s not a s exci ta bl e a s he ha d been ea rl i er, tendi ng to be ters e a nd ra ther bi tter. “Li s ten, Gerry. Wa s there ever ma chi nery i n thos e pi geonhol es ?” “No.” “Ha h! There’s a defini te a ns wer! I thought you woul dn’t a s s ert a nythi ng a bout Si te D except i ts i ncomprehens i bi l i ty to the huma n mi nd. You s ofteni ng up?” “No. Lea rni ng.” “Lea rni ng wha t?” “How to s ee.” After a pa us e Decel i s a s ked ca uti ous l y, “See wha t?” “Si te D. Si nce i t’s a l l I ca n s ee.” “You mea n, tha t’s wha t you—when your eyes a re open—” “No.” Hughes s poke wea ri l y a nd wi th rel ucta nce. “It’s more compl ex tha n tha t. I don’t s ee Si te D. I s ee... the worl d i n the l i ght ca s t by Si te D.... A new l i ght. The ma n you ought to a s k i s Joe Tems ki . Or, l i s ten, di d you ever run the pi geonhol es through Al gi e, l i ke you s a i d?” “I ha d troubl e s etti ng up the progra m.” “I’l l bet you di d,” Hughes s a i d wi th a s hort l a ugh. “Send the s tuff on up here. I’l l s et i t up. Bl i ndfol ded.” Tems ki ca me i nto Hughes ’s room, ra di a nt. “Gerry,” he s a i d, “I’ve got i t.” “Got wha t?” “I’ve got i t together. I hea rd you. No, I wa s n’t l i p-rea di ng. Sa y s omethi ng wi th your ba ck turned. Go on!” “Ptoma i ne poi s oni ng.” “ ‘Ptoma i ne poi s oni ng.’ —OK? See, I’m hea ri ng you. But I ha ven’t l os t the mus i c. I’ve got i t a l l together!” Bl ue-eyed a nd fa i r, Tems ki wa s ordi na ri l y a ha nds ome ma n; now he wa s ma gni ficent. Hughes coul d not s ee hi m (though the s py ca mera i n the venti l a tor gri l l e coul d a nd di d), but he hea rd the vi bra ti on of hi s voi ce, a nd wa s moved, a nd fri ghtened. “Ta ke off your bl i nkers , Gerry,” the gentl e, vi bra nt voi ce s a i d. Hughes s hook hi s hea d. “You ca n’t s i t i n the da rk i ns i de yours el f forever. Come out. You ca n’t choos e bl i ndnes s , Gerry.” “Why ca n’t I?” “Not a fter you’ve s een the l i ght.” “Wha t l i ght?” “ The l i ght, the word, the truth we ha ve been ta ught to percei ve a nd to know,” Tems ki s a i d, wi th the gentl enes s of u er certa i nty, a nd a wa rmth i n hi s voi ce, a wa rmth l i ke s unl i ght. “Get out,” Hughes s a i d. “Get out, Tems ki !” Twel ve weeks ha d pa s s ed s i nce Ps yche XIV s pl a s hdown. Nobody on the debri efing s ta ff ha d come down wi th a ny s ymptoms more a l a rmi ng tha n boredom. Hughes wa s no wors e, a nd Tems ki wa s now compl etel y recovered. It coul d be s a fel y a s s umed tha t wha tever ha d a ffected the crew of Ps yche XIV, i t ha d not been a n i nfec on vectored by a vi rus , s pore, ba cteri um, or other phys i ca l a gent. The hypothes i s a ccepted tenta vel y a nd wi th va ri ous res erva ons by the ma jori ty, i ncl udi ng Dr Sha pi r, wa s tha t s omethi ng i n the a rra ngement of the el ements cons tu ng the “room,” Si te D, ha d, duri ng thei r prol onged a nd i ntens e s tudy of the s i te, ca us ed a degree of bra i n-wa ve di s rup on i n a l l three men, a na l ogous to the bra i n-func on di s turba nce ca us ed by s trobe l i ghts a t certa i n frequenci es , etc. Preci s el y wha t el ements of the “room” were i nvol ved wa s not yet known, though the hol ogra phs were bei ng exa mi ned i ntens i vel y by experts . Ps yche XV wa s to ma ke a s l l more thorough i nves ga on of the s i te, ta ki ng due preca uti ons to protect a nd moni tor the a s trona uts . Thes e s us pect el ements of Si te D were s o numerous a nd s o i ntri ca tel y i nterrel a ted tha t i t wa s very ha rd for a s i ngl e mi nd to a empt to a rra nge or order them. Some Ma r a nol ogi s ts were s ure the pecul i a r proper es of the “room” were onl y a geol ogi ca l a cci dent, a nd tha t a l l the “room” ha d to “tel l ” us wa s the ki nd of i nforma on furni s hed s o conci s el y a nd bea u ful l y by the s tra ta of rocks , the ri ngs of a tree, the l i nes of a s pectrum. Others were a s convi nced tha t i ntel l i gent bei ngs ha d bui l t the Ci ty, a nd tha t i n s tudyi ng i t we mi ght l ea rn s omethi ng of thei r na ture a nd the wa y thei r mi nds worked—thos e uni ma gi na bl e mi nds of s i x hundred mi l l i on yea rs a go (for the ra di oa c ve-deca y da ng of the s i te wa s a bs ol utel y defini te now). The job of doi ng s o, 92

however, wa s da un ng. T. A. Newma n of the Smi ths oni a n Ins tu on put i t wel l : “Archa eol ogi s ts a re us ed to ge ng a l ot of i nforma on out of very s i mpl e thi ngs —pots herds , bi ts of fli nt, a wa l l here, a gra ve there. But wha t i f a l l we ha d of a n a nci ent ci vi l i za on wa s a very compl i ca ted thi ng, compl i ca ted i n more tha n a technol ogi ca l s ens e— l et’s s a y, one copy of Sha kes pea re’s Ha ml et. Now l et’s a s s ume tha t the a rcha eol ogi s ts who fi nd thi s copy of Ha ml et a re not huma noi d, don’t ha ve books , don’t ha ve pl a ys , don’t s pea k, wri te, or thi nk a t a l l a s we do. Wha t a re they goi ng to ma ke of tha t l i l e phys i ca l a r fa ct, the evi dent compl exi ty a nd purpos eful nes s of i t, the repe on of certa i n el ements a nd the non-repeti ti on of others , the s emi -regul a ri ty of l i ne l engths , a nd s o on? How a re they goi ng to rea d Ha ml et?” To thos e who a ccepted the “Ha ml et theory,” the obvi ous firs t s tep wa s to empl oy computers , a nd a number of them ha d been s et to work a na l yzi ng the va ri ous el ements of Si te D: the s pa ci ng, s i ze, depth, a nd configura ons of the “pi geonhol es ,” the propor ons of the firs t, mi ddl e, a nd thi rd “s ubcha mbers ,” the extra ordi na ry a cous ca l proper es of the “room” a s a whol e, a nd s o on. None of thes e progra ms ha d a s yet produced a ny s ure evi dence of cons ci ous pl a nni ng or ra ona l pa ern; none, tha t i s , except the progra m s et up by Decel i s a nd Hughes on NASA’s new Al gebra i c V, whi ch ha d certa i nl y got res ul ts , though they coul d not be ca l l ed ra ona l . Indeed, tha t pri nt-out ha d gi ven a s hudder to the NASA bra s s , a nd a good l a ugh to thos e few s ci en s ts to whom Decel i s ha d s hown i t before i t wa s s uppres s ed a s bei ng proba bl y a fra ud a nd certa i nl y a n emba rra s s ment. The en re pri nt-out rea d a s fol l ows : RUN PIGEONHOLES SITE D MARS SECTOR NINE DECELIS HUGHES GOD GOOD GOD GOD GOOD YOU ARE GOD RESET RESET TOTALITY COMPREHENSION NONSENSE PERCEIVE NONSENSE NO SENSE REAL GOOD GOD PERCEIVE RECEIVE DIRECTIONS DIRECTION PROCEED INFORM UNINFORMED GOD GOD GOD GOD GOD GOD END RUN Sha pi r ca me i n to find Hughes l yi ng on hi s bed, a s he now di d mos t of the me, wea ri ng hi s bl a ck goggl es . He l ooked whi te a nd ill. “I thi nk you’ve been overdoi ng i t.” Hughes di d not a ns wer. Sha pi r s a t down. “They’re s endi ng me ba ck to New York,” he s a i d pres entl y. Hughes di d not a ns wer. “ Tems ki ’s been rel ea s ed, you know. He’s on hi s wa y to Fl ori da now. Wi th hi s wi fe. I ca n’t find out wha t they pl a n for you. I a s ked...” After a l ong pa us e he compl eted the s entence. “I a s ked for a nother two weeks here wi th you. No go.” “It’s a l l ri ght,” Hughes s a i d. “I wa nt to keep i n touch wi th you, Gera i nt. Obvi ous l y we ca n’t wri te l e ers . But there’s the phone. And ta pes ; I’m l ea vi ng a ca s s e e recorder here wi th you. When you wa nt to ta l k, pl ea s e ca l l me. If you ca n’t get me, ta l k to the recorder. It’s not the s a me, but—” “You’re a very good ma n, Si dney,” Hughes s a i d gentl y. “I wi s h....” A er a mi nute he s a t up. He rea ched up to hi s fa ce a nd took off the bl a ck goggl es . They fi ed s o cl os el y a round hi s eye s ockets tha t i t took hi m a l i l e whi l e to get them off. When they were off he l owered hi s ha nds , a nd l ooked a cros s the room, di rectl y a t Sha pi r. Hi s eyes , the pupi l s enl a rged by l ong pri va ti on of l i ght, were a l mos t a s da rk a s the goggl es . “I s ee you,” he s a i d. “Hi de a nd s eek. I s py. You’re It. Do you wa nt to know wha t I s ee?” “Yes ,” Sha pi r s a i d s oftl y. “A bl ot. A s ha dow. An i ncompl etenes s , a rudi ment, a n obs truc on. Somethi ng compl etel y uni mporta nt. You s ee, i t does n’t do a ny good to be a good ma n, even...” “And when you l ook a t yours el f?” “The s a me. Jus t the s a me. A hi ndra nce, a tri vi a l i ty. A bl ot on the fi el d of vi s i on.” “ The fiel d of vi s i on. Wha t i s the fiel d of vi s i on?” “Wha t do you thi nk?” Hughes s a i d, very qui etl y a nd wea ri l y. “Wha t i s true vi s i on of? Rea l i ty, of cours e. I ha ve been re-progra mmed to percei ve rea l i ty, to s ee the truth. I s ee God.” He s a nk hi s fa ce i nto hi s ha nds , coveri ng hi s eyes . “I wa s a thi nki ng ma n,” he s a i d. “I tri ed to be a ra ona l ma n. But wha t good’s rea s on, when you ca n s ee the truth? Seei ng i s bel i evi ng....” He l ooked up a ga i n a t Sha pi r, hi s da rk eyes both pi erci ng a nd uns eei ng. “If you wa nt a 93

rea l expl a na on, go a s k Joe Tems ki . He’s keepi ng qui et now; he’s bi di ng hi s me. But he’s the one who ca n tel l you. And he wi l l , when hi s me comes . He ca n tra ns l a te wha t he hea rs — tra ns l a te i t i nto words . It’s ha rder to do wi th vi s ua l percep ons . Mys cs ha ve a l wa ys ha d troubl e pu ng thei r vi s i ons i nto words ; except the ones tha t got the Word, tha t hea rd the Voi ce. They us ua l l y got ri ght up a nd a cted, di dn’t they? Tems ki wi l l a ct. But I wi l l not. I refus e. I wi l l not prea ch. I wi l l not be a mi s s i ona ry.” “A mi s s i ona ry?” “Don’t you s ee? Don’t you s ee tha t’s wha t the ‘room’ i s ? A tra i ni ng center, a bri efi ng room, a —” “A rel i gi ous center? A church?” “Wel l , i n a wa y. A pl a ce where you a re ta ught to s ee God, a nd hea r God, a nd know God. And l ove God. A convers i on center. A pl a ce where you’re converted! And then you wa nt to go out a nd prea ch the knowl edge of God to the others —to the hea then. Beca us e now you know how bl i nd they a re, a nd how ea s y i t i s to s ee. No, not jus t a church; a mi s s i on. The Mi s s i on. And you l ea rn the Mi s s i on, a nd you come out of i t wi th the Mi s s i on. They weren’t expl orers . They were mi s s i ona ri es , bea ri ng the truth, bri ngi ng i t to the other ra ces a nd the future ra ces , a l l the poor da mned hea thens l i vi ng i n the outer da rknes s . They knew the a ns wer, a nd they wa nted us a l l to know the a ns wer. Nothi ng el s e ma ers , once you’ve l ea rned the a ns wer. It does n’t ma er i f you’re a good ma n or a ba d one, i f I’m a n i ntel l i gent ma n or a fool . Nothi ng a bout us ma ers except tha t we a re tri vi a l vehi cl es of the grea t truth. The ea rth does n’t ma tter, the s ta rs don’t ma tter, dea th does n’t ma tter, nothi ng i s a nythi ng. Onl y God i s .” “An a l i en god?” “Not a god. God—the one true God, i mma nent i n a l l thi ngs . Everywhere, forever. I ha ve l ea rned to s ee God. Al l I ha ve to do i s open my eyes , a nd I s ee the Fa ce of God. And I’d gi ve a l l my l i fe jus t to s ee one huma n fa ce a ga i n, to s ee a tree, jus t a tree, a cha i r—a pl a i n wooden cha i r, ordi na ry— They ca n keep thei r God, they ca n keep thei r Li ght. I wa nt the worl d ba ck. I wa nt ques ti ons , not the a ns wer. I wa nt my own l i fe ba ck, a nd my own dea th!” On the recommenda on of the Army ps ychi a tri s t who took over the ca s e of Gera i nt Hughes a er Sha pi r wa s di s mi s s ed, Hughes wa s moved to a mi l i ta ry hos pi ta l for the i ns a ne. As he wa s genera l l y a qui et a nd coopera ve pa ent he wa s not kept under s tri ct s upervi s i on, a nd a er el even months of confinement he unfortuna tel y ca rri ed out a s ucces s ful s ui ci de a empt, s l a s hi ng hi s wri s ts wi th a s poon-ha ndl e whi ch he ha d s tol en from the mes s ha l l a nd s ha rpened by rubbi ng a ga i ns t the bed fra me. It i s a n i nteres ng fa ct tha t he ki l l ed hi ms el f on the da y the Ps yche XV Mi s s i on s ta rted ba ck to Ea rth from Ma rs , bri ngi ng the documents a nd records whi ch, a s i nterpreted by the Fi rs t Apos tl e, now form the firs t cha pters of the Revel a on of the Anci ents , the s a cred texts of the hol y a nd uni vers a l Church of God, bri nger of l i ght to the hea then, s ol e vehi cl e of the One Eterna l Truth. O fool s (s a i d I) thus to prefer da rk ni ght Before true l i ght.... But a s I di d thei r ma dnes s s o di s cus s One whi s per’d thus , This Ring the Bride-groome did for none provide But for his bride.

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DIRECTION OF THE ROAD

The tree s ta nds jus t s outh of the McMi nnvi l l e bypa s s on Oregon Sta te Hi ghwa y 18. It l os t a ma jor l i mb l a s t yea r, but s l l l ooks gra nd. We dri ve pa s t i t s evera l mes a yea r, a nd i t ha s never fa i l ed to uphol d Rel a vi ty wi th di gni ty a nd the s ki l l of l ong pra cti ce. They di d not us e to be s o dema ndi ng. They never hurri ed us i nto a nythi ng more tha n a ga l l op, a nd tha t wa s ra re; mos t of the me i t wa s jus t a ji gjog foot-pa ce. And when one of them wa s on hi s own feet, i t wa s a rea l pl ea s ure to a pproa ch hi m. There wa s me to a ccompl i s h the en re a ct wi th s tyl e. There he’d be, worki ng hi s l egs a nd a rms the wa y they do, us ua l l y l ooki ng a t the roa d, but o en a s i de a t the fiel ds , or s tra i ght a t me: a nd I’d a pproa ch hi m s tea di l y but qui te s l owl y, growi ng l a rger a l l the me, s ynchroni zi ng the ra te of a pproa ch a nd the ra te of growth perfectl y, s o tha t a t the very moment tha t I’d fini s hed enl a rgi ng from a ny s peck to my ful l s i ze—s i xty feet i n thos e da ys —I wa s a brea s t of hi m a nd hung a bove hi m, l oomed, towered, overs ha dowed hi m. Yet he woul d s how no fea r. Not even the chi l dren were a fra i d of me, though o en they kept thei r eyes on me a s I pa s s ed by a nd s ta rted to di mi ni s h. Some mes on a hot a ernoon one of the a dul ts woul d s top me ri ght there a t our meeti ng-pl a ce, a nd l i e down wi th hi s ba ck a ga i ns t mi ne for a n hour or more. I di dn’t mi nd i n the l ea s t I ha ve a n excel l ent hi l l , good s un, good wi nd, good vi ew; why s houl d I mi nd s ta ndi ng s l l for a n hour or a n a ernoon? It’s onl y a rel a ve s l l nes s , a er a l l . One need onl y l ook a t the s un to rea l i ze how fa s t one i s goi ng; a nd then, one grows con nua l l y—es peci a l l y i n s ummer. In a ny ca s e I wa s touched by the wa y they woul d entrus t thems el ves to me, l etti ng me l ea n a ga i ns t thei r l i ttl e wa rm ba cks , a nd fa l l i ng s ound a s l eep there between my feet. I l i ked them. They ha ve s el dom l ent us Gra ce a s do the bi rds ; but I rea l l y preferred them to s qui rrel s . In thos e da ys the hors es us ed to work for them, a nd tha t too wa s enjoya bl e from my poi nt of vi ew. I pa r cul a rl y l i ked the ca nter, a nd got qui te profici ent a t i t. The s urgi ng a nd rhythmi ca l mo on a ccompa ni ed s hri nki ng a nd growi ng wi th a s wa yi ng a nd s woopi ng, a l mos t a n i l l us i on of fl i ght. The ga l l op wa s l es s pl ea s a nt. It wa s jerky, poundi ng: one fel t tos s ed a bout l i ke a s a pl i ng i n a ga l e. And then, the s l ow a pproa ch a nd growth, the moment of l oomi ng-over, a nd the s l ow retrea t a nd di mi ni s hi ng, a l l tha t wa s l os t duri ng the ga l l op. One ha d to hurl ones el f i nto i t, cl oppety-cl oppety-cl oppety! a nd the ma n us ua l l y too bus y ri di ng, a nd the hors e too bus y runni ng, even to l ook up. But then, i t di dn’t ha ppen o en. A hors e i s morta l , a er a l l , a nd l i ke a l l the l oos e crea tures grows ti red ea s i l y; s o they di dn’t ti re thei r hors es unl es s there wa s urgent need. And they s eemed not to ha ve s o ma ny urgent needs , i n thos e da ys . It’s been a l ong me s i nce I ha d a ga l l op, a nd to tel l the truth I s houl dn’t mi nd ha vi ng one. There wa s s omethi ng i nvi gora ng a bout i t, a fter a l l . I remember the firs t motorca r I s a w. Li ke mos t of us , I took i t for a morta l , s ome ki nd of l oos e crea ture new to me. I wa s a bi t s ta rtl ed, for a fter a hundred a nd thi rty-two yea rs I thought I knew a l l the l oca l fa una . But a new thi ng i s a l wa ys i nteres ti ng, i n i ts tri vi a l fa s hi on, s o I obs erved thi s one wi th a en on. I a pproa ched i t a t a fa i r s peed, a bout the ra te of a ca nter, but i n a new ga i t, s ui ta bl e to the unga i nl y l ooks of the thi ng: a n uncomforta bl e, bounci ng, rol l i ng, choki ng, jerki ng ga i t. Wi thi n two mi nutes , before I’d grown a foot ta l l , I knew i t wa s no morta l crea ture, bound or l oos e or free. It wa s a ma ki ng, l i ke the ca rts the hors es got hi tched to. I thought i t s o very i l l -ma de tha t I di dn’t expect i t to return, once i t ga s ped over the Wes t Hi l l , a nd I hea r l y hoped i t never woul d, for I di s l i ked tha t jerki ng bounce. But the thi ng took to a regul a r s chedul e, a nd s o, perforce, di d I. Da i l y a t four I ha d to a pproa ch i t, twi tchi ng a nd s tu eri ng out of the Wes t, a nd enl a rge, l oom-over, a nd di mi ni s h. Then a t five ba ck I ha d to come, poppe ng a l ong l i ke a young ja ckra bbi t for a l l my s i xty feet, ji ggi ng a nd jounci ng out of the Ea s t, un l a t l a s t I got cl ea r out of s i ght of the wretched l i l e mons ter a nd coul d rel a x a nd l oos en my l i mbs to the eveni ng wi nd. There were a l wa ys two of them i ns i de the ma chi ne: a young ma l e hol di ng the wheel , a nd behi nd hi m a n ol d fema l e wra pped i n rugs , gl oweri ng. If they ever s a i d a nythi ng to ea ch other I never hea rd i t. In thos e da ys I overhea rd a good ma ny convers a ons on the roa d, but not from tha t ma chi ne. The top of i t wa s open, but i t ma de s o much noi s e tha t i t overrode a l l voi ces , even the voi ce of the s ong-s pa rrow I ha d wi th me tha t yea r. The noi s e wa s a l mos t a s vi l e a s the jounci ng. I a m of a fa mi l y of ri gi d pri nci pl e a nd cons i dera bl e s el f-res pect. The Querci a n mo o i s “Brea k but bend not,” a nd I ha ve a l wa ys tri ed to uphol d i t. It wa s not onl y pers ona l va ni ty, but fa mi l y pri de, you s ee, tha t wa s offended when I wa s forced to jounce a nd bounce i n thi s fa s hi on by a mere ma ki ng. The a ppl e trees i n the orcha rd a t the foot of the hi l l di d not s eem to mi nd; but then, a ppl es a re ta me. Thei r genes ha ve been ta mpered wi th for centuri es . Bes i des , they a re herd crea tures ; no orcha rd tree ca n rea l l y form a n opi ni on of i ts own. I kept my own opi ni on to mys el f. But I wa s very pl ea s ed when the motorca r cea s ed to pl a gue us . Al l month went by wi thout i t, a nd a l l month I wa l ked a t men a nd tro ed a t hors es mos t wi l l i ngl y, a nd even bobbed for a ba by on i ts mother’s a rm, tryi ng ha rd though uns ucces s ful l y to keep i n focus . Next month, however—September i t wa s , for the s wa l l ows ha d l e a few da ys ea rl i er—a nother of the ma chi nes a ppea red, a new one, s uddenl y dra ggi ng me a nd the roa d a nd our hi l l , the orcha rd, the fiel ds , the fa rmhous e roof, a l l ji ggi ng a nd jounci ng a nd ra cke ng a l ong from Ea s t to Wes t; I went fa s ter tha n a ga l l op, fa s ter tha n I ha d ever gone before. I ha d s ca rcel y me to l oom, before I ha d to s hri nk ri ght down a ga i n. And the next da y there ca me a di fferent one. Yea rl y then, weekl y, da i l y, they beca me commoner. They beca me a ma jor fea ture of the l oca l Order of Thi ngs . The roa d wa s dug up a nd re-meta l l ed, wi dened, fini s hed off very s mooth a nd na s ty, l i ke a s l ug’s tra i l , wi th no ra ts , pool s , rocks , flowers , or s ha dows on i t. There us ed to be a l ot of l i l e l oos e crea tures on the roa d, gra s s hoppers , a nts , toa ds , mi ce, foxes , a nd s o on, mos t of them too s ma l l to move for, s i nce they coul dn’t rea l l y s ee one. Now the wi s e crea tures took to a voi di ng the roa d, a nd the unwi s e ones got s qua s hed. I ha ve s een a l l too ma ny ra bbi ts di e i n tha t fa s hi on, ri ght a t my feet. I a m tha nkful tha t I a m a n 95

oa k, a nd tha t though I ma y be wi nd-broken or uprooted, hewn or s a wn, a t l ea s t I ca nnot, under a ny ci rcums ta nces , be s qua s hed. Wi th the pres ence of ma ny motorca rs on the roa d a t once, a new l evel of s ki l l wa s requi red of me. As a mere s eedl i ng, a s s oon a s I got my hea d a bove the weeds , I ha d l ea rned the ba s i c tri ck of goi ng two di rec ons a t once. I l ea rned i t wi thout thi nki ng a bout i t, under the s i mpl e pres s ure of ci rcums ta nces on the firs t occa s i on tha t I s a w a wa l ker i n the Ea s t a nd a hors ema n fa ci ng hi m In the Wes t I ha d to go two di rec ons a t once, a nd I di d s o. It’s s omethi ng we trees ma s ter wi thout rea l effort, I s uppos e. I wa s nervous , but I s ucceeded i n pa s s i ng the ri der a nd then s hri nki ng a wa y from hi m whi l e a t the s a me me I wa s s l l ji gjoggi ng towa rds the wa l ker, a nd i ndeed pa s s ed hi m (no l oomi ng, ba ck i n thos e da ys !) onl y when I ha d got qui te out of s i ght of the ri der. I wa s proud of mys el f, bei ng very young, tha t firs t me I di d i t; but i t s ounds more di fficul t tha n i t rea l l y i s . Si nce thos e da ys of cours e I ha d done i t i nnumera bl e mes , a nd thought nothi ng a bout i t; I coul d do i t i n my s l eep. But ha ve you ever cons i dered the fea t a ccompl i s hed, the s ki l l i nvol ved, when a tree enl a rges , s i mul ta neous l y yet a t s l i ghtl y di fferent ra tes a nd i n s l i ghtl y di fferent ma nners , for ea ch one of forty motorca r dri vers fa ci ng two oppos i te di rec ons , whi l e a t the s a me me di mi ni s hi ng for forty more who ha ve got thei r ba cks to i t, mea nwhi l e rememberi ng to l oom over ea ch s i ngl e one a t the ri ght moment: a nd to do thi s mi nute a fter mi nute, hour a fter hour, from da ybrea k ti l l ni ghtfa l l or l ong a fter? For my roa d ha d become a bus y one; i t worked a l l da y l ong under a l mos t con nua l tra ffic. It worked, a nd I worked. I di d not jounce a nd bounce s o much a ny more, but I ha d to run fa s ter a nd fa s ter: to grow enormous l y, to l oom i n a s pl i t s econd, to s hri nk to nothi ng, a l l i n a hurry, wi thout ti me to enjoy the a cti on, a nd wi thout res t: over a nd over a nd over. Very few of the dri vers bothered to l ook a t me, not even a s eei ng gl a nce. They s eemed, i ndeed, not to s ee me a ny more. They merel y s ta red a hea d. They s eemed to bel i eve tha t they were “goi ng s omewhere.” Li l e mi rrors were a ffixed to the front of thei r ca rs , a t whi ch they gl a nced to s ee where they ha d been; then they s ta red a hea d a ga i n. I ha d thought tha t onl y beetl es ha d thi s del us i on of Progres s . Beetl es a re a l wa ys rus hi ng a bout, a nd never l ooki ng up. I ha d a l wa ys ha d a pre y l ow opi ni on of beetl es . But a t l ea s t they l et me be. I confes s tha t s ome mes , i n the bl es s ed ni ghts of da rknes s wi th no moon to s i l ver my crown a nd no s ta rs occl udi ng wi th my bra nches , when I coul d res t, I woul d thi nk s eri ous l y of es ca pi ng my obl i ga on to the genera l Order of Thi ngs : of fa i l i ng to move. No, not s eri ous l y. Ha l f-s eri ous l y. It wa s mere wea ri nes s . If even a s i l l y, three-yea r-ol d, fema l e pus s y wi l l ow a t the foot of the hi l l a ccepted her res pons i bi l i ty, a nd jounced a nd rol l ed a nd a ccel era ted a nd grew a nd s hra nk for ea ch motorca r on the roa d, wa s I, a n oa k, to s hi rk? Nobl es s e obl i ge, a nd I trus t I ha ve never dropped a n a corn tha t di d not know i ts duty. For fi y or s i xty yea rs , then, I ha ve uphel d the Order of Thi ngs , a nd ha ve done my s ha re i n s uppor ng the huma n crea tures ' i l l us i on tha t they a re “goi ng s omewhere." And I a m not unwi l l i ng to do s o. But a trul y terri bl e thi ng ha s occurred, whi ch I wi s h to protes t. I do not mi nd goi ng two di rec ons a t once; I do not mi nd growi ng a nd s hri nki ng s i mul ta neous l y; I do not mi nd movi ng, even a t the di s a greea bl e ra te of s i xty or s eventy mi l es a n hour. I a m rea dy to go on doi ng a l l thes e thi ngs un l I a m fel l ed or bul l dozed. They’re my job. But I do object, pa s s i ona tel y, to bei ng ma de eterna l . Eterni ty i s none of my bus i nes s . I a m a n oa k, no more, no l es s . I ha ve my duty, a nd I do i t; I ha ve my pl ea s ures , a nd enjoy them, though they a re fewer, s i nce the bi rds a re fewer, a nd the wi nd’s foul . But, l ong-l i ved though I ma y be, i mperma nence i s my ri ght. Morta l i ty i s my pri vi l ege. And i t ha s been ta ken from me. It wa s ta ken from me on a ra i ny eveni ng i n Ma rch l a s t yea r. Fi ts a nd burs ts of ca rs , a s us ua l , fil l ed the ra pi dl y movi ng roa d i n both di rec ons . I wa s s o bus y hurtl i ng a l ong, enl a rgi ng, l oomi ng, di mi ni s hi ng, a nd the l i ght wa s fa i l i ng s o fa s t, tha t I s ca rcel y no ced wha t wa s ha ppeni ng un l i t ha ppened. One of the dri vers of one of the ca rs evi dentl y fel t tha t hi s need to “go s omewhere” wa s excep ona l l y urgent, a nd s o a empted to pl a ce hi s ca r i n front of the ca r i n front of i t. Thi s ma neuver i nvol ves a tempora ry s l a n ng of the Di rec on of the Roa d a nd a di s pl a cement onto the fa r s i de, the s i de whi ch norma l l y runs the other di rec on (a nd ma y I s a y tha t I a dmi re the roa d very hi ghl y for i ts s ki l l i n execu ng s uch ma neuvers , whi ch mus t be di fficul t for a n unl i vi ng crea ture, a mere ma ki ng). Another ca r, however, ha ppened to be qui te nea r the urgent one, a nd fa ci ng i t, a s i t cha nged s i des ; a nd the roa d coul d not do a nythi ng a bout i t, bei ng a l rea dy overcrowded. To a voi d i mpa ct wi th the fa ci ng ca r, the urgent ca r tota l l y vi ol a ted the Di rec on of the Roa d, s wi ngi ng i t round to North-South i n i ts own terms , a nd s o forci ng me to l ea p di rectl y a t i t. I ha d no choi ce. I ha d to move, a nd move fa s t—ei ghtyfi ve mi l es a n hour. I l ea pt: I l oomed enormous , l a rger tha n I ha ve ever l oomed before. And then I hi t the ca r. I l os t a cons i dera bl e pi ece of ba rk, a nd, wha t’s more s eri ous , a fa i r bi t of ca mbi um l a yer; but a s I wa s s eventy-two feet ta l l a nd a bout ni ne feet i n gi rth a t the poi nt of i mpa ct, no rea l ha rm wa s done. My bra nches trembl ed wi th the s hock enough tha t a l a s tyea r’s robi n’s nes t wa s di s l odged a nd fel l ; a nd I wa s s o s ha ken tha t I groa ned. It i s the onl y me i n my l i fe tha t I ha ve ever s a i d a nythi ng out l oud. The motorca r s crea med horri bl y. It wa s s ma s hed by my bl ow, s qua s hed, i n fa ct. Its hi nder pa rts were not much a ffected, but the forequa rters knotted up a nd knurl ed together l i ke a n ol d root, a nd l i ttl e bri ght bi ts of i t fl ew a l l a bout a nd l a y l i ke bri ttl e ra i n. The dri ver ha d no ti me to s a y a nythi ng: I ki l l ed hi m i ns ta ntl y. It i s not thi s tha t I protes t. I ha d to ki l l hi m. I ha d no choi ce, a nd therefore ha ve no regret. Wha t I protes t, wha t I ca nnot endure, i s thi s : a s I l ea pt a t hi m, he s a w me. He l ooked up a t l a s t. He s a w me a s I ha ve never been s een before, not even by a chi l d, not even i n the da ys when peopl e l ooked a t thi ngs . He s a w me whol e, a nd s a w nothi ng el s e—then, or ever. He s a w me under the a s pect of eterni ty. He confus ed me wi th eterni ty. And beca us e he di ed i n tha t moment of fa l s e vi s i on, beca us e i t ca n never cha nge, I a m ca ught i n i t, eterna l l y. Thi s i s unendura bl e. I ca nnot uphol d s uch a n i l l us i on. If the huma n crea tures wi l l not unders ta nd Rel a vi ty, very wel l ; but they mus t unders ta nd Rel a tednes s .

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If i t i s neces s a ry to the Order of Thi ngs , I wi l l ki l l dri vers of ca rs , though ki l l i ng i s not a duty us ua l l y requi red of oa ks . But i t i s unjus t to requi re me to pl a y the pa rt, not of the ki l l er onl y, but of dea th. For I a m not dea th. I a m l i fe: I a m morta l . If they wi s h to s ee dea th vi s i bl y i n the worl d, tha t i s thei r bus i nes s , not mi ne. I wi l l not a ct Eterni ty for them. Let them not turn to the trees for dea th. If tha t i s wha t they wa nt to s ee, l et them l ook i nto one a nother’s eyes a nd s ee i t there. THE ONES WHO WALK AWAY FROM OMELAS

(Va ri a ti on on a theme by Wi l l i a m Ja mes ) The centra l i dea of thi s ps ychomyth, the s ca pegoa t, turns up i n Dos toyevs ky’s Brothers Ka ra ma zov, a nd s evera l peopl e ha ve a s ked me, ra ther s us pi ci ous l y, why I ga ve the credi t to Wi l l i a m Ja mes . The fa ct i s , I ha ven’t been a bl e to re-rea d Dos toyevs ky, much a s I l oved hi m, s i nce I wa s twentyfive, a nd I’d s i mpl y forgo en he us ed the i dea . But when I met i t i n Ja mes ’s “ The Mora l Phi l os opher a nd the Mora l Li fe," i t wa s wi th a s hock of recogni ti on. Here i s how Ja mes puts i t: Or i f the hypothes i s were offered us of a worl d i n whi ch Mes s rs . Fouri er’s a nd Bel l a my’s a nd Morri s ’s utopi a s s houl d a l l be outdone, a nd mi l l i ons kept perma nentl y ha ppy on the one s i mpl e condi on tha t a certa i n l os t s oul on the fa r-off edge of thi ngs s houl d l ea d a l i fe of l onel y torment, wha t except a s peci fica l a nd i ndependent s ort of emo on ca n i t be whi ch woul d ma ke us i mmedi a tel y feel , even though a n i mpul s e a ros e wi thi n us to cl utch a t the ha ppi nes s s o offered, how hi deous a thi ng woul d be i ts enjoyment when del i bera tel y a ccepted a s the frui t of s uch a ba rga i n? The di l emma of the Ameri ca n cons ci ence ca n ha rdl y be be er s ta ted. Dos toyevs ky wa s a grea t a r s t, a nd a ra di ca l one, but hi s ea rl y s oci a l ra di ca l i s m revers ed i ts el f, l ea vi ng hi m a vi ol ent rea c ona ry. Wherea s the Ameri ca n Ja mes , who s eems s o mi l d, s o na i vel y gentl ema nl y—l ook how he s a ys “us ,” a s s umi ng a l l hi s rea ders a re a s decent a s hi ms el f!—wa s , a nd rema i ned, a nd rema i ns , a genui nel y ra di ca l thi nker. Di rectl y a fter the “l os t s oul ” pa s s a ge he goes on, Al l the hi gher, more penetra ng i dea l s a re revol u ona ry. They pres ent thems el ves fa r l es s i n the gui s e of effects of pa s t experi ence tha n i n tha t of proba bl e ca us es of future experi ence, fa ctors to whi ch the envi ronment a nd the l es s ons i t ha s s o fa r ta ught us mus t l ea rn to bend. The a ppl i ca on of thos e two s entences to thi s s tory, a nd to s ci ence fic on, a nd to a l l thi nki ng a bout the future, i s qui te di rect. Idea l s a s “the proba bl e ca us es of future experi ence”—tha t i s a s ubtl e a nd a n exhi l a ra ti ng rema rk! Of cours e I di dn't rea d Ja mes a nd s i t down a nd s a y, Now I'l l wri te a s tory a bout tha t “l os t s oul .” It s el dom works tha t s i mpl y. I s a t down a nd s ta rted a s tory, jus t beca us e I fel t l i ke i t, wi th nothi ng but the word “Omel a s ” i n mi nd. It ca me from a roa d s i gn: Sa l em (Oregon) ba ckwa rds . Don't you rea d roa d s i gns ba ckwa rds ? POTS. WOLS nerdl i hc. Ocs i cna rf Na s ... Sa l em equa l s s chel omo equa l s s a l a a m equa l s Pea ce. Mel a s . O mel a s . Omel a s . Homme hel a s . “Where do you get your i dea s from, Ms Le Gui n?” From forgetti ng Dos toyevs ky a nd rea di ng roa d s i gns ba ckwa rds , na tura l l y. Where el s e? Wi th a cl a mor of bel l s tha t s et the s wa l l ows s oa ri ng, the Fes va l of Summer ca me to the ci ty Omel a s , bri ght-towered by the s ea . The ri ggi ng of the boa ts i n ha rbor s pa rkl ed wi th fla gs . In the s treets between hous es wi th red roofs a nd pa i nted wa l l s , between ol d mos s -grown ga rdens a nd under a venues of trees , pa s t grea t pa rks a nd publ i c bui l di ngs , proces s i ons moved. Some were decorous : ol d peopl e i n l ong s ti ff robes of ma uve a nd grey, gra ve ma s ter workmen, qui et, merry women ca rryi ng thei r ba bi es a nd cha ng a s they wa l ked. In other s treets the mus i c bea t fa s ter, a s hi mmeri ng of gong a nd ta mbouri ne, a nd the peopl e went da nci ng, the proces s i on wa s a da nce. Chi l dren dodged i n a nd out, thei r hi gh ca l l s ri s i ng l i ke the s wa l l ows ’ cros s i ng fli ghts over the mus i c a nd the s i ngi ng. Al l the proces s i ons wound towa rds the north s i de of the ci ty, where on the grea t wa ter-mea dow ca l l ed the Green Fi el ds boys a nd gi rl s , na ked i n the bri ght a i r, wi th mud-s ta i ned feet a nd a nkl es a nd l ong, l i the a rms , exerci s ed thei r res ve hors es before the ra ce. The hors es wore no gea r a t a l l but a ha l ter wi thout bi t. Thei r ma nes were bra i ded wi th s trea mers of s i l ver, gol d, a nd green. They fla red thei r nos tri l s a nd pra nced a nd boa s ted to one a nother; they were va s tl y exci ted, the hors e bei ng the onl y a ni ma l who ha s a dopted our ceremoni es a s hi s own. Fa r off to the north a nd wes t the mounta i ns s tood up ha l f enci rcl i ng Omel a s on her ba y. The a i r of morni ng wa s s o cl ea r tha t the s now s l l crowni ng the Ei ghteen Pea ks burned wi th whi te-gol d fire a cros s the mi l es of s unl i t a i r, under the da rk bl ue of the s ky. There wa s jus t enough wi nd to ma ke the ba nners tha t ma rked the ra cecours e s na p a nd flu er now a nd then. In the s i l ence of the broa d green mea dows one coul d hea r the mus i c wi ndi ng through the ci ty s treets , fa rther a nd nea rer a nd ever a pproa chi ng, a cheerful fa i nt s weetnes s of the a i r tha t from ti me to ti me trembl ed a nd ga thered together a nd broke out i nto the grea t joyous cl a ngi ng of the bel l s . Joyous ! How i s one to tel l a bout joy? How des cri be the ci ti zens of Omel a s ? They were not s i mpl e fol k, you s ee, though they were ha ppy. But we do not s a y the words of cheer much a ny more. Al l s mi l es ha ve become a rcha i c. Gi ven a des cri p on s uch a s thi s one tends to ma ke certa i n a s s ump ons . Gi ven a des crep on s uch a s thi s one tends to l ook next for the Ki ng, mounted on a s pl endi d s ta l l i on a nd s urrounded by hi s nobl e kni ghts , or perha ps i n a gol den l i er borne by grea t-mus cl ed s l a ves . But there wa s no ki ng. They di d not us e s words , or keep s l a ves . They were not ba rba ri a ns . I do not know the rul es a nd l a ws of thei r s oci ety, but I s us pect tha t they were s i ngul a rl y few. As they di d wi thout mona rchy a nd s l a very, s o they a l s o got on wi thout the s tock excha nge, the a dver s ement, the s ecret pol i ce, a nd the bomb. Yet I repea t tha t thes e were not s i mpl e fol k, not dul cet s hepherds , nobl e s a va ges , bl a nd utopi a ns . They were not l es s compl ex tha n us . The troubl e i s tha t we ha ve a ba d ha bi t, encoura ged by peda nts a nd s ophi s ca tes , of cons i deri ng ha ppi nes s a s s omethi ng ra ther s tupi d. Onl y pa i n i s i ntel l ectua l , onl y evi l i nteres ng. Thi s i s the trea s on of the a r s t: a refus a l to a dmi t the ba na l i ty of evi l a nd the terri bl e boredom of pa i n. If you ca n’t l i ck ’em, joi n ’em. If i t hurts , repea t i t. But to pra i s e des pa i r i s to condemn del i ght, to embra ce vi ol ence i s to l os e hol d of everythi ng el s e. We ha ve a l mos t l os t hol d; we ca n no l onger des cri be a ha ppy ma n, nor ma ke a ny cel ebra on of joy. How ca n I tel l you a bout the peopl e of Omel a s ? They were not na i ve a nd ha ppy chi l dren—though thei r chi l dren were, i n fa ct, ha ppy. They were ma ture, i ntel l i gent, pa s s i ona te a dul ts whos e l i ves were not wretched. O mi ra cl e! but I wi s h I coul d des cri be i t be er. I wi s h I coul d convi nce you. Omel a s s ounds i n my words l i ke a ci ty i n a fa i ry ta l e, l ong a go a nd fa r a wa y, once upon a me. Perha ps i t woul d be bes t i f you i ma gi ned i t a s your own fa ncy bi ds , a s s umi ng i t wi l l ri s e to the occa s i on, for certa i nl y I ca nnot s ui t you a l l . For i ns ta nce, how a bout technol ogy? I thi nk tha t there woul d be no ca rs or hel i copters i n a nd a bove the s treets ; thi s fol l ows from the fa ct tha t the peopl e of Omel a s a re ha ppy peopl e. Ha ppi nes s i s 97

ba s ed on a jus t di s cri mi na on of wha t i s neces s a ry, wha t i s nei ther neces s a ry nor des truc ve, a nd wha t i s des truc ve. In the mi ddl e ca tegory, however—tha t of the unneces s a ry but undes truc ve, tha t of comfort, l uxury, exubera nce, etc.—they coul d perfectl y wel l ha ve centra l hea ng, s ubwa y tra i ns , wa s hi ng ma chi nes , a nd a l l ki nds of ma rvel ous devi ces not yet i nvented here, floa ng l i ght-s ources , fuel l es s power, a cure for the common col d. Or they coul d ha ve none of tha t: i t does n’t ma er. As you l i ke i t. I i ncl i ne to thi nk tha t peopl e from towns up a nd down the coa s t ha ve been comi ng i n to Omel a s duri ng the l a s t da ys before the Fes va l on very fa s t l i l e tra i ns a nd doubl e-decked tra ms , a nd tha t the tra i n s ta on of Omel a s i s a ctua l l y the ha nds omes t bui l di ng i n town, though pl a i ner tha n the ma gni ficent Fa rmers ' Ma rket. But even gra nted tra i ns , I fea r tha t Omel a s s o fa r s tri kes s ome of you a s goody-goody. Smi l es , bel l s , pa ra des , hors es , bl eh. If s o, pl ea s e a dd a n orgy. If a n orgy woul d hel p, don’t hes i ta te. Let us not, however, ha ve templ es from whi ch i s s ue bea uti ful nude pri es ts a nd pri es tes s es a l rea dy ha l f i n ecs ta s y a nd rea dy to copul a te wi th a ny ma n or woma n, l over or s tra nger, who des i res uni on wi th the deep godhea d of the bl ood, a l though tha t wa s my firs t i dea . But rea l l y i t woul d be be er not to ha ve a ny templ es i n Omel a s —a t l ea s t, not ma nned templ es . Rel i gi on yes , cl ergy no. Surel y the bea u ful nudes ca n jus t wa nder a bout, offeri ng thems el ves l i ke di vi ne s ouffles to the hunger of the needy a nd the ra pture of the fles h. Let them joi n the proces s i ons . Let ta mbouri nes be s truck a bove the copul a ons , a nd the gl ory of des i re be procl a i med upon the gongs , a nd (a not uni mporta nt poi nt) l et the offs pri ng of thes e del i gh ul ri tua l s be bel oved a nd l ooked a er by a l l . One thi ng I know there i s none of i n Omel a s i s gui l t. But wha t el s e s houl d there be? I thought a t fi rs t there were no drugs , but tha t i s puri ta ni ca l . For thos e who l i ke i t, the fa i nt i ns i s tent s weetnes s of drooz ma y perfume the wa ys of the ci ty, drooz whi ch firs t bri ngs a grea t l i ghtnes s a nd bri l l i a nce to the mi nd a nd l i mbs , a nd then a er s ome hours a drea my l a nguor, a nd wonderful vi s i ons a t l a s t of the very a rca na a nd i nmos t s ecrets of the Uni vers e, a s wel l a s exci ng the pl ea s ure of s ex beyond a l l bel i ef; a nd i t i s not ha bi t-formi ng. For more modes t ta s tes I thi nk there ought to be beer. Wha t el s e, wha t el s e bel ongs i n the joyous ci ty? The s ens e of vi ctory, s urel y, the cel ebra on of coura ge. But a s we di d wi thout cl ergy, l et us do wi thout s ol di ers . The joy bui l t upon s ucces s ful s l a ughter i s not the ri ght ki nd of joy; i t wi l l not do; i t i s fea rful a nd i t i s tri vi a l . A boundl es s a nd generous contentment, a ma gna ni mous tri umph fel t not a ga i ns t s ome outer enemy but i n communi on wi th the fines t a nd fa i res t i n the s oul s of a l l men everywhere a nd the s pl endor of the worl d’s s ummer: thi s i s wha t s wel l s the hea rts of the peopl e of Omel a s , a nd the vi ctory they cel ebra te i s tha t of l i fe. I rea l l y don’t thi nk ma ny of them need to ta ke drooz. Mos t of the proces s i ons ha ve rea ched the Green Fi el ds by now. A ma rvel ous s mel l of cooki ng goes forth from the red a nd bl ue tents of the provi s i oners . The fa ces of s ma l l chi l dren a re a mi a bl y s cky; i n the beni gn grey bea rd of a ma n a coupl e of crumbs of ri ch pa s try a re enta ngl ed. The youths a nd gi rl s ha ve mounted thei r hors es a nd a re begi nni ng to group a round the s ta rti ng l i ne of the cours e. An ol d woma n, s ma l l , fa t, a nd l a ughi ng, i s pa s s i ng out flowers from a ba s ket, a nd ta l l young men wea r her flowers i n thei r s hi ni ng ha i r. A chi l d of ni ne or ten s i ts a t the edge of the crowd, a l one, pl a yi ng on a wooden flute. Peopl e pa us e to l i s ten, a nd they s mi l e, but they do not s pea k to hi m, for he never cea s es pl a yi ng a nd never s ees them, hi s da rk eyes whol l y ra pt i n the s weet, thi n ma gi c of the tune. He fi ni s hes , a nd s l owl y l owers hi s ha nds hol di ng the wooden fl ute. As i f tha t l i l e pri va te s i l ence were the s i gna l , a l l a t once a trumpet s ounds from the pa vi l i on nea r the s ta r ng l i ne: i mperi ous , mel a nchol y, pi erci ng. The hors es rea r on thei r s l ender l egs , a nd s ome of them nei gh i n a ns wer. Sober-fa ced, the young ri ders s troke the hors es ' necks a nd s oothe them, whi s peri ng, “Qui et, qui et, there my bea uty, my hope...." They begi n to form i n ra nk a l ong the s ta r ng l i ne. The crowds a l ong the ra cecours e a re l i ke a fiel d of gra s s a nd flowers i n the wi nd. The Fes va l of Summer ha s begun. Do you bel i eve? Do you a ccept the fes ti va l , the ci ty, the joy? No? Then l et me des cri be one more thi ng. In a ba s ement under one of the bea u ful publ i c bui l di ngs of Omel a s , or perha ps i n the cel l a r of one of i ts s pa ci ous pri va te homes , there i s a room. It ha s one l ocked door, a nd no wi ndow. A l i l e l i ght s eeps i n dus l y between cra cks i n the boa rds , s econdha nd from a cobwebbed wi ndow s omewhere a cros s the cel l a r. In one comer of the l i l e room a coupl e of mops , wi th s ff, cl o ed, foul -s mel l i ng hea ds , s ta nd nea r a rus ty bucket. The floor i s di rt, a l i l e da mp to the touch, a s cel l a r di rt us ua l l y i s . The room i s a bout three pa ces l ong a nd two wi de: a mere broom cl os et or di s us ed tool room. In the room a chi l d i s s i ng. It coul d be a boy or a gi rl . It l ooks a bout s i x, but a ctua l l y i s nea rl y ten. It i s feebl e-mi nded. Perha ps i t wa s born defec ve, or perha ps i t ha s become i mbeci l e through fea r, ma l nutri on, a nd negl ect. It pi cks i ts nos e a nd occa s i ona l l y fumbl es va guel y wi th i ts toes or geni ta l s , a s i t s i ts hunched i n the comer fa rthes t from the bucket a nd the two mops . It i s a fra i d of the mops . It finds them horri bl e. It s huts i ts eyes , but i t knows the mops a re s l l s ta ndi ng there; a nd the door i s l ocked; a nd nobody wi l l come. The door i s a l wa ys l ocked; a nd nobody ever comes , except tha t s ome mes —the chi l d ha s no unders ta ndi ng of me or i nterva l — s ome mes the door ra l es terri bl y a nd opens , a nd a pers on, or s evera l peopl e, a re there. One of them ma y come i n a nd ki ck the chi l d to ma ke i t s ta nd up. The others never come cl os e, but peer i n a t i t wi th fri ghtened, di s gus ted eyes . The food bowl a nd the wa ter jug a re ha s l y fil l ed, the door i s l ocked, the eyes di s a ppea r. The peopl e a t the door never s a y a nythi ng, but the chi l d, who ha s not a l wa ys l i ved i n the tool room, a nd ca n remember s unl i ght a nd i ts mother’s voi ce, s ome mes s pea ks . “I wi l l be good,” i t s a ys . “Pl ea s e l et me out. I wi l l be good!” They never a ns wer. The chi l d us ed to s crea m for hel p a t ni ght, a nd cry a good dea l , but now i t onl y ma kes a ki nd of whi ni ng, “eh-ha a , eh-ha a ,” a nd i t s pea ks l es s a nd l es s o en. It i s s o thi n there a re no ca l ves to i ts l egs ; i ts bel l y protrudes ; i t l i ves on a ha l f-bowl of corn mea l a nd grea s e a da y. It i s na ked. Its bu ocks a nd thi ghs a re a ma s s of fes tered s ores , a s i t s i ts i n i ts own excrement conti nua l l y. They a l l know i t i s there, a l l the peopl e of Omel a s . Some of them ha ve come to s ee i t, others a re content merel y to know i t i s there. They a l l know tha t i t ha s to be there. Some of them unders ta nd why, a nd s ome do not, but they a l l unders ta nd tha t thei r ha ppi nes s , the bea uty of thei r ci ty, the tendernes s of thei r fri ends hi ps , the hea l th of thei r chi l dren, the wi s dom of thei r s chol a rs , the s ki l l of thei r ma kers , even the a bunda nce of thei r ha rves t a nd the ki ndl y wea thers of thei r s ki es , depend whol l y on thi s chi l d’s a bomi na bl e mi s ery. Thi s i s us ua l l y expl a i ned to chi l dren when they a re between ei ght a nd twel ve, whenever they s eem ca pa bl e of unders ta ndi ng; a nd mos t of thos e who come to s ee the chi l d a re young peopl e, though o en enough a n a dul t comes , or comes ba ck, to s ee the chi l d. No ma er how wel l the ma er ha s been expl a i ned to them, thes e young s pecta tors a re a l wa ys s hocked a nd s i ckened a t the s i ght. They feel di s gus t, whi ch they ha d thought thems el ves s uperi or to. They feel a nger, outra ge, i mpotence, des pi te a l l the expl a na ons . They woul d l i ke to do s omethi ng for the chi l d. But there i s nothi ng they ca n do. If the chi l d were brought up i nto the s unl i ght out of tha t vi l e pl a ce, i f i t were cl ea ned a nd fed a nd comforted, tha t woul d be a good thi ng, i ndeed; but i f i t were done, i n tha t da y a nd hour a l l the pros peri ty a nd bea uty a nd del i ght of Omel a s woul d wi ther a nd be des troyed. Thos e a re the 98

terms . To excha nge a l l the goodnes s a nd gra ce of every l i fe i n Omel a s for tha t s i ngl e, s ma l l i mprovement: to throw a wa y the ha ppi nes s of thous a nds for the cha nce of the ha ppi nes s of one: tha t woul d be to l et gui l t wi thi n the wa l l s i ndeed. The terms a re s tri ct a nd a bs ol ute; there ma y not even be a ki nd word s poken to the chi l d. O en the young peopl e go home i n tea rs , or i n a tea rl es s ra ge, when they ha ve s een the chi l d a nd fa ced thi s terri bl e pa ra dox. They ma y brood over i t for weeks or yea rs . But a s me goes on they begi n to rea l i ze tha t even i f the chi l d coul d be rel ea s ed, i t woul d not get much good of i ts freedom: a l i ttl e va gue pl ea s ure of wa rmth a nd food, no doubt, but l i ttl e more. It i s too degra ded a nd i mbeci l e to know a ny rea l joy. It ha s been a fra i d too l ong ever to be free of fea r. Its ha bi ts a re too uncouth for i t to res pond to huma ne trea tment. Indeed, a er s o l ong i t woul d proba bl y be wretched wi thout wa l l s a bout i t to protect i t, a nd da rknes s for i ts eyes , a nd i ts own excrement to s i t i n. Thei r tea rs a t the bi er i njus ce dry when they begi n to percei ve the terri bl e jus ce of rea l i ty, a nd to a ccept i t. Yet i t i s thei r tea rs a nd a nger, the tryi ng of thei r generos i ty a nd the a ccepta nce of thei r hel pl es s nes s , whi ch a re perha ps the true s ource of the s pl endor of thei r l i ves . Thei rs i s no va pi d, i rres pons i bl e ha ppi nes s . They know tha t they, l i ke the chi l d, a re not free. They know compa s s i on. It i s the exi s tence of the chi l d, a nd thei r knowl edge of i ts exi s tence, tha t ma kes pos s i bl e the nobi l i ty of thei r a rchi tecture, the poi gna ncy of thei r mus i c, the profundi ty of thei r s ci ence. It i s beca us e of the chi l d tha t they a re s o gentl e wi th chi l dren. They know tha t i f the wretched one were not there s ni vel l i ng i n the da rk, the other one, the flute-pl a yer, coul d ma ke no joyful mus i c a s the young ri ders l i ne up i n thei r bea uty for the ra ce i n the s unl i ght of the fi rs t morni ng of s ummer. Now do you bel i eve i n them? Are they not more credi bl e? But there i s one more thi ng to tel l , a nd thi s i s qui te i ncredi bl e. At mes one of the a dol es cent gi rl s or boys who go to s ee the chi l d does not go home to weep or ra ge, does not, i n fa ct, go home a t a l l . Some mes a l s o a ma n or woma n much ol der fa l l s s i l ent for a da y or two, a nd then l ea ves home. Thes e peopl e go out i nto the s treet, a nd wa l k down the s treet a l one. They keep wa l ki ng, a nd wa l k s tra i ght out of the ci ty of Omel a s , through the bea u ful ga tes . They keep wa l ki ng a cros s the fa rml a nds of Omel a s . Ea ch one goes a l one, youth or gi rl , ma n or woma n. Ni ght fa l l s ; the tra vel er mus t pa s s down vi l l a ge s treets , between the hous es wi th yel l ow-l i t wi ndows , a nd on out i nto the da rknes s of the fiel ds . Ea ch a l one, they go wes t or north, towa rds the mounta i ns . They go on. They l ea ve Omel a s , they wa l k a hea d i nto the da rknes s , a nd they do not come ba ck. The pl a ce they go towa rds i s a pl a ce even l es s i ma gi na bl e to mos t of us tha n the ci ty of ha ppi nes s . I ca nnot des cri be i t a t a l l . It i s pos s i bl e tha t i t does not exi s t. But they s eem to know where they a re goi ng, the ones who wa l k a wa y from Omel a s . THE DAY BEFORE THE REVOLUTION

In memori a m Pa ul Goodma n, 1911-1972 My novel The Di s pos s es s ed i s a bout a s ma l l worl dful of peopl e who ca l l thems el ves Odoni a ns . The na me i s ta ken from the founder of thei r s oci ety, Odo, who l i ved s evera l genera ons before the me of the novel , a nd who therefore does n't get i nto the a cti on—except i mpl i ci tl y, i n tha t a l l the a cti on s ta rted wi th her. Odoni a ni s m i s a na rchi s m. Not the bomb-i n-the-pocket s tuff, whi ch i s terrori s m, wha tever na me i t tri es to di gni fy i ts el f wi th; not the s oci a l -Da rwi ni s t economi c “l i berta ri a ni s m" of the fa r ri ght; but a na rchi s m, a s prefigured i n ea rl y Ta oi s t thought, a nd expounded by Shel l ey a nd Kropotki n, Gol dma n a nd Goodma n. Ana rchi s m's pri nci pa l ta rget i s the a uthori ta ri a n Sta te (ca pi ta l i s t or s oci a l i s t); i ts pri nci pa l mora l -pra c ca l theme i s coopera on (s ol i da ri ty, mutua l a i d). It i s the mos t i dea l i s c, a nd to me the mos t i nteres ti ng, of a l l pol i ti ca l theori es . To embody i t i n a novel , whi ch ha d not been done before, wa s a l ong a nd ha rd job for me, a nd a bs orbed me tota l l y for ma ny months . When i t wa s done I fel t l os t, exi l ed—a di s pl a ced pers on. I wa s very gra teful , therefore, when Odo ca me out of the s ha dows a nd a cros s the gul f of Proba bi l i ty, a nd wa nted a s tory wri en, not a bout the worl d s he ma de, but a bout hers el f. Thi s s tory i s a bout one of the ones who wa l ked a wa y from Omel a s . The s pea ker’s voi ce wa s a s l oud a s empty beer-trucks i n a s tone s treet, a nd the peopl e a t the mee ng were ja mmed up cl os e, cobbl es tones , tha t grea t voi ce boomi ng over them. Ta vi ri wa s s omewhere on the other s i de of the ha l l . She ha d to get to hi m. She wormed a nd pus hed her wa y a mong the da rk-cl othed, cl os e-pa cked peopl e. She di d not hea r the words , nor s ee the fa ces : onl y the boomi ng, a nd the bodi es pres s ed one behi nd the other. She coul d not s ee Ta vi ri , s he wa s too s hort. A broa d bl a ckves ted bel l y a nd ches t l oomed up, bl ocki ng her wa y. She mus t get through to Ta vi ri . Swea ng, s he ja bbed fiercel y wi th her fis t. It wa s l i ke hi ng s tone, he di d not move a t a l l , but the huge l ungs l et out ri ght over her hea d a prodi gi ous noi s e, a bel l ow. She cowered. Then s he unders tood tha t the bel l ow ha d not been a t her. Others were s hou ng. The s pea ker ha d s a i d s omethi ng, s omethi ng fine a bout ta xes or s ha dows . Thri l l ed, s he joi ned the s hou ng— “Yes ! Yes !” —a nd s hovi ng on, ca me out ea s i l y i nto the open expa ns e of the Regi menta l Dri l l Fi el d i n Pa rheo. Overhea d the eveni ng s ky l a y deep a nd col orl es s , a nd a l l a round her nodded the ta l l weeds wi th dry, whi te, cl os e-floreted hea ds . She ha d never known wha t they were ca l l ed. The flowers nodded a bove her hea d, s wa yi ng i n the wi nd tha t a l wa ys bl ew a cros s the fiel ds i n the dus k. She ra n a mong them, a nd they whi pped l i the a s i de a nd s tood up a ga i n s wa yi ng, s i l ent. Ta vi ri s tood a mong the ta l l weeds i n hi s good s ui t, the da rk grey one tha t ma de hi m l ook l i ke a profes s or or a pl a y-a ctor, ha rs hl y el ega nt. He di d not l ook ha ppy, but he wa s l a ughi ng, a nd s a yi ng s omethi ng to her. The s ound of hi s voi ce ma de her cry, a nd s he rea ched out to ca tch hol d of hi s ha nd, but s he di d not s top, qui te. She coul d not s top. “Oh, Ta vi ri ,” s he s a i d, “i t’s jus t on there!” The queer s weet s mel l of the whi te weeds wa s hea vy a s s he went on. There were thorns , ta ngl es underfoot, there were s l opes , pi ts . She fea red to fa l l , to fa l l , s he s topped. Sun, bri ght morni ng-gl a re, s tra i ght i n the eyes , rel entl es s . She ha d forgo en to pul l the bl i nd l a s t ni ght. She turned her ba ck on the s un, but the ri ght s i de wa s n’t comforta bl e. No us e. Da y. She s i ghed twi ce, s a t up, got her l egs over the edge of the bed, a nd s a t hunched i n her ni ghtdres s l ooki ng down a t her feet. The toes , compres s ed by a l i fe me of chea p s hoes , were a l mos t s qua re where they touched ea ch other, a nd bul ged out a bove i n corns ; the na i l s were di s col ored a nd s ha pel es s . Between the knob-l i ke a nkl ebones ra n fine, dry wri nkl es . The bri ef l i l e 99

pl a i n a t the ba s e of the toes ha d kept i ts del i ca cy, but the s ki n wa s the col or of mud, a nd kno ed vei ns cros s ed the i ns tep. Di s gus ng. Sa d, depres s i ng. Mea n. Pi ful . She tri ed on a l l the words , a nd they a l l fit, l i ke hi deous l i l e ha ts . Hi deous : yes , tha t one too. To l ook a t ones el f a nd find i t hi deous , wha t a job! But then, when s he ha dn’t been hi deous , ha d s he s a t a round a nd s ta red a t hers el f l i ke thi s ? Not much! A proper body’s not a n object, not a n i mpl ement, not a bel ongi ng to be a dmi red, i t’s jus t you, yours el f. Onl y when i t’s no l onger you, but yours , a thi ng owned, do you worry a bout i t— Is i t i n good s ha pe? Wi l l i t do? Wi l l i t l a s t? “Who ca res ?” s a i d La i a fi ercel y, a nd s tood up. It ma de her gi ddy to s ta nd up s uddenl y. She ha d to put out her ha nd to the bed-ta bl e, for s he drea ded fa l l i ng. At tha t s he thought of rea chi ng out to Ta vi ri , i n the drea m. Wha t ha d he s a i d? She coul d not remember. She wa s not s ure i f s he ha d even touched hi s ha nd. She frowned, tryi ng to force memory. It ha d been s o l ong s i nce s he ha d drea med a bout Ta vi ri ; a nd now not even to remember wha t he ha d s a i d! It wa s gone, i t wa s gone. She s tood there hunched i n her ni ghtdres s , frowni ng, one ha nd on the bed-ta bl e. How l ong wa s i t s i nce s he ha d thought of hi m—l et a l one drea med of hi m—even thought of hi m, a s “ Ta vi ri ”? How l ong s i nce s he ha d s a i d hi s na me? As i eo s a i d. When As i eo a nd I were i n pri s on i n the North. Before I met As i eo. As i eo’s theory of reci proci ty. Oh yes , s he ta l ked a bout hi m, ta l ked a bout hi m too much no doubt, ma undered, dra gged hi m i n. But a s “As i eo,” the l a s t na me, the publ i c ma n. The pri va te ma n wa s gone, u erl y gone. There were s o few l e who ha d even known hi m. They ha d a l l us ed to be i n ja i l . One l a ughed a bout i t i n thos e da ys , a l l the fri ends i n a l l the ja i l s . But they weren’t even there, thes e da ys . They were i n the pri s on cemeteri es . Or i n the common gra ves . “Oh, oh my dea r,” La i a s a i d out l oud, a nd s he s a nk down onto the bed a ga i n beca us e s he coul d not s ta nd up under the remembra nce of thos e firs t weeks i n the Fort, i n the cel l , thos e firs t weeks of the ni ne yea rs i n the Fort i n Dri o, i n the cel l , thos e firs t weeks a er they tol d her tha t As i eo ha d been ki l l ed i n the figh ng i n Ca pi tol Squa re a nd ha d been buri ed wi th the Fourteen Hundred i n the l i me-di tches behi nd Ori ng Ga te. In the cel l . Her ha nds fel l i nto the ol d pos i on on her l a p, the l e cl enched a nd l ocked i ns i de the gri p of the ri ght, the ri ght thumb worki ng ba ck a nd forth a l i l e pres s i ng a nd rubbi ng on the knuckl e of the l e firs t finger. Hours , da ys , ni ghts . She ha d thought of them a l l , ea ch one, ea ch one of the Fourteen Hundred, how they l a y, how the qui ckl i me worked on the fles h, how the bones touched i n the burni ng da rk. Who touched hi m? How di d the s l ender bones of the ha nd l i e now? Hours , yea rs . “ Ta vi ri , I ha ve never forgo en you!” s he whi s pered, a nd the s tupi di ty of i t brought her ba ck to morni ng l i ght a nd the rumpl ed bed. Of cours e s he ha dn’t forgo en hi m. Thes e thi ngs go wi thout s a yi ng between hus ba nd a nd wi fe. There were her ugl y ol d feet fla t on the floor a ga i n, jus t a s before. She ha d got nowhere a t a l l , s he ha d gone i n a ci rcl e. She s tood up wi th a grunt of effort a nd di s a pprova l , a nd went to the cl os et for her dres s i ng gown. The young peopl e went a bout the ha l l s of the Hous e i n becomi ng i mmodes ty, but s he wa s too ol d for tha t. She di dn’t wa nt to s poi l s ome young ma n’s brea kfa s t wi th the s i ght of her. Bes i des , they ha d grown up i n the pri nci pl e of freedom of dres s a nd s ex a nd a l l the res t, a nd s he ha dn’t. Al l s he ha d done wa s i nvent i t. It’s not the s a me. Li ke s pea ki ng of As i eo a s “my hus ba nd.” They wi nced. The word s he s houl d us e a s a good Odoni a n, of cours e, wa s “pa rtner.” But why the hel l di d s he ha ve to be a good Odoni a n? She s huffled down the ha l l to the ba throoms . Ma i ro wa s there, wa s hi ng her ha i r i n a l a va tory. La i a l ooked a t the l ong, s l eek, wet ha nk wi th a dmi ra on. She got out of the Hous e s o s el dom now tha t s he di dn’t know when s he ha d l a s t s een a res pecta bl y s ha ven s ca l p, but s l l the s i ght of a ful l hea d of ha i r ga ve her pl ea s ure, vi gorous pl ea s ure. How ma ny mes ha d s he been jeered a t, Longha i r, Longha i r, ha d her ha i r pul l ed by pol i cemen or young toughs , ha d her ha i r s ha ved off down to the s ca l p by a gri nni ng s ol di er a t ea ch new pri s on? And then ha d grown i t a l l over a ga i n, through the fuzz, to the fri zz, to the curl s , to the ma ne.... In the ol d da ys . For God’s l ove, coul dn’t s he thi nk of a nythi ng toda y but the ol d da ys ? Dres s ed, her bed ma de, s he went down to commons . It wa s a good brea kfa s t, but s he ha d never got her a ppe te ba ck s i nce the da mned s troke. She dra nk two cups of herb tea , but coul dn’t fini s h the pi ece of frui t s he ha d ta ken. How s he ha d cra ved frui t a s a chi l d ba dl y enough to s tea l i t; a nd i n the Fort—oh, for God’s l ove s top i t! She s mi l ed a nd repl i ed to the gree ngs a nd fri endl y i nqui ri es of the other brea kfa s ters a nd bi g Aevi who wa s s ervi ng the counter thi s morni ng. It wa s he who ha d tempted her wi th the pea ch, “Look a t thi s , I’ve been s a vi ng i t for you,” a nd how coul d s he refus e? Anywa y s he ha d a l wa ys l oved frui t, a nd never got enough; once when s he wa s s i x or s even s he ha d s tol en a pi ece off a vendor’s ca rt i n Ri ver Street. But i t wa s ha rd to ea t when everyone wa s ta l ki ng s o exci tedl y. There wa s news from Thu, rea l news . She wa s i ncl i ned to di s count i t a t firs t, bei ng wa ry of enthus i a s ms , but a er s he ha d rea d the a r cl e i n the pa per, a nd rea d between the l i nes of i t, s he thought, wi th a s tra nge ki nd of certa i nty, deep but col d, Why, thi s i s i t; i t ha s come. And i n Thu, not here. Thu wi l l brea k before thi s country does ; the Revol u on wi l l firs t preva i l there. As i f tha t ma ered! There wi l l be no more na ons . And yet i t di d ma er s omehow, i t ma de her a l i l e col d a nd s a d —envi ous , i n fa ct. Of a l l the i nfini te s tupi di es . She di d not joi n i n the ta l k much, a nd s oon got up to go ba ck to her room, feel i ng s orry for hers el f. She coul d not s ha re thei r exci tement. She wa s out of i t, rea l l y out of i t. It’s not ea s y, s he s a i d to hers el f i n jus fica on, l a bori ous l y cl i mbi ng the s ta i rs , to a ccept bei ng out of i t when you’ve been i n i t, i n the center of i t, for fi fty yea rs . Oh, for God’s l ove. Whi ni ng! She got the s ta i rs a nd the s el f-pi ty behi nd her, enteri ng her room. It wa s a good room, a nd i t wa s good to be by hers el f. It wa s a grea t rel i ef. Even i f i t wa s n’t s tri ctl y fa i r. Some of the ki ds i n the a cs were l i vi ng five to a room no bi gger tha n thi s . There were a l wa ys more peopl e wa n ng to l i ve i n a n Odoni a n Hous e tha n coul d be properl y a ccommoda ted. She ha d thi s bi g room a l l to hers el f onl y beca us e s he wa s a n ol d woma n who ha d ha d a s troke. And ma ybe beca us e s he wa s Odo. If s he ha dn’t been Odo, but merel y the ol d woma n wi th a s troke, woul d s he ha ve ha d i t? Very l i kel y. A er a l l , who the hel l wa nted to room wi th a drool i ng ol d woma n? But i t wa s ha rd to be s ure. Fa vori s m, el i s m, l ea der-wors hi p, they crept ba ck a nd cropped out everywhere. But s he ha d never hoped to s ee them era di ca ted i n her l i fe me, i n one genera on; onl y Ti me works the grea t cha nges . Mea nwhi l e thi s wa s a ni ce, l a rge, s unny room, proper for a drool i ng ol d woma n who ha d s ta rted a worl d revol uti on. 100

Her s ecreta ry woul d be comi ng i n a n hour to hel p her des pa tch the da y’s work. She s huffled over to the des k, a bea u ful , bi g pi ece, a pres ent from the Ni o Ca bi netma kers ’ Syndi ca te beca us e s omebody ha d hea rd her rema rk once tha t the onl y pi ece of furni ture s he ha d ever rea l l y l onged for wa s a des k wi th dra wers a nd enough room on top... da mn, the top wa s pra c ca l l y covered wi th pa pers wi th notes cl i pped to them, mos tl y i n Noi ’s s ma l l cl ea r ha ndwri ng: Urgent. —Northern Provi nces . —Cons ul t w/R. T.? Her own ha ndwri ng ha d never been the s a me s i nce As i eo’s dea th. It wa s odd, when you thought a bout i t. A er a l l , wi thi n five yea rs a er hi s dea th s he ha d wri en the whol e Ana l ogy. And there were thos e l e ers , whi ch the ta l l gua rd wi th the wa tery grey eyes , wha t wa s hi s na me, never mi nd, ha d s muggl ed out of the Fort for her for two yea rs . The Pri s on Le ers they ca l l ed them now, there were a dozen di fferent edi ons of them. Al l tha t s tuff, the l e ers whi ch peopl e kept tel l i ng her were s o ful l of “s pi ri tua l s trength”—whi ch proba bl y mea nt s he ha d been l yi ng hers el f bl ue i n the fa ce when s he wrote them, tryi ng to keep her s pi ri ts up —a nd the Ana l ogy whi ch wa s certa i nl y the s ol i des t i ntel l ectua l work s he ha d ever done, a l l of tha t ha d been wri en i n the Fort i n Dri o, i n the cel l , a er As i eo’s dea th. One ha d to do s omethi ng, a nd i n the Fort they l et one ha ve pa per a nd pens .... But i t ha d a l l been wri en i n the ha s ty, s cri bbl i ng ha nd whi ch s he ha d never fel t wa s hers , not her own l i ke the round, bl a ck s crol l i ngs of the ma nus cri pt of Soci ety Wi thout Government, fortyfive yea rs ol d. Ta vi ri ha d ta ken not onl y her body’s a nd her hea rt’s des i re to the qui ckl i me wi th hi m, but even her good cl ea r ha ndwri ti ng. But he ha d l eft her the Revol uti on. How bra ve of you to go on, to work, to wri te, i n pri s on, a er s uch a defea t for the Movement, a er your pa rtner’s dea th, peopl e ha d us ed to s a y. Da mn fool s . Wha t el s e ha d there been to do? Bra very, coura ge— wha t wa s coura ge? She ha d never figured i t out. Not fea ri ng, s ome s a i d. Fea ri ng yet goi ng on, others s a i d. But wha t coul d one do but go on? Ha d one a ny rea l choi ce, ever? To di e wa s merel y to go on i n a nother di recti on. If you wa nted to come home you ha d to keep goi ng on, tha t wa s wha t s he mea nt when s he wrote “ True journey i s return,” but i t ha d never been more tha n a n i ntui on, a nd s he wa s fa rther tha n ever now from bei ng a bl e to ra ona l i ze i t. She bent down, too s uddenl y, s o tha t s he grunted a l i l e a t the crea k i n her bones , a nd bega n to root i n a bo om dra wer of the des k. Her ha nd ca me on a n a ge-s o ened fol der a nd drew i t out, recogni zi ng i t by touch before s i ght confirmed: the ma nus cri pt of Syndi ca l Orga ni za on i n Revol u ona ry Tra ns i on. He ha d pri nted the tl e on the fol der a nd wri en hi s na me under i t, Ta vi ri Odo As i eo, IX 741. There wa s a n el ega nt ha ndwri ng, every l e er wel l -formed, bol d, a nd fluent. But he ha d preferred to us e a voi cepri nter. The ma nus cri pt wa s a l l i n voi cepri nt, a nd hi gh qua l i ty too, hes i ta nci es a djus ted a nd i di os yncra s i es of s peech norma l i zed. You coul dn’t s ee there how he ha d s a i d “o” deep i n hi s throa t a s they di d on the North Coa s t. There wa s nothi ng of hi m there but hi s mi nd. She ha d nothi ng of hi m a t a l l except hi s na me wri en on the fol der. She ha dn’t kept hi s l e ers , i t wa s s en menta l to keep l e ers . Bes i des , s he never kept a nythi ng. She coul dn’t thi nk of a nythi ng tha t s he ha d ever owned for more tha n a few yea rs , except thi s ra ms ha ckl e ol d body, of cours e, a nd s he wa s s tuck wi th tha t Dua l i zi ng a ga i n. “She” a nd “i t.” Age a nd i l l nes s ma de one dua l i s t, ma de one es ca pi s t; the mi nd i ns i s ted, It's not me, i t's not me. But i t wa s . Ma ybe the mys cs coul d deta ch mi nd from body, s he ha d a l wa ys ra ther wi s ul l y envi ed them the cha nce, wi thout hope of emul a ti ng them. Es ca pe ha d never been her ga me. She ha d s ought for freedom here, now, body a nd s oul . Fi rs t s el f-pi ty, then s el f-pra i s e, a nd here s he s l l s a t, for God’s l ove, hol di ng As i eo’s na me i n her ha nd, why? Di dn’t s he know hi s na me wi thout l ooki ng i t up? Wha t wa s wrong wi th her? She ra i s ed the fol der to her l i ps a nd ki s s ed the ha ndwri en na me firml y a nd s qua rel y, repl a ced the fol der i n the ba ck of the bo om dra wer, s hut the dra wer, a nd s tra i ghtened up i n the cha i r. Her ri ght ha nd ngl ed. She s cra tched i t, a nd then s hook i t i n the a i r, s pi teful l y. It ha d never qui te got over the s troke. Nei ther ha d her ri ght l eg, or ri ght eye, or the ri ght comer of her mouth. They were s l uggi s h, i nept, they ngl ed. They ma de her feel l i ke a robot wi th a s hort ci rcui t. And ti me wa s getti ng on, Noi woul d be comi ng, wha t ha d s he been doi ng ever s i nce brea kfa s t? She got up s o ha s l y tha t s he l urched, a nd gra bbed a t the cha i r-ba ck to ma ke s ure s he di d not fa l l . She went down the ha l l to the ba throom a nd l ooked i n the bi g mi rror there. Her grey knot wa s l oos e a nd droopy, s he ha dn’t done i t up wel l before brea kfa s t. She s truggl ed wi th i t a whi l e. It wa s ha rd to keep her a rms up i n the a i r. Ama i , runni ng i n to pi s s , s topped a nd s a i d, “Let me do i t!” a nd kno ed i t up ght a nd nea t i n no me, wi th her round, s trong, pre y fingers , s mi l i ng a nd s i l ent. Ama i wa s twenty, l es s tha n a thi rd of La i a ’s a ge. Her pa rents ha d both been members of the Movement, one ki l l ed i n the i ns urrec on of ’60, the other s l l recrui ng i n the South Provi nces . Ama i ha d grown up i n Odoni a n Hous es , born to the Revol u on, a true da ughter of a na rchy. And s o qui et a nd free a nd bea u ful a chi l d, enough to ma ke you cry when you thought: thi s i s wha t we worked for, thi s i s wha t we mea nt, thi s i s i t, here s he i s , a l i ve, the ki ndl y, l ovel y future. La i a As i eo Odo’s ri ght eye wept s evera l l i l e tea rs , a s s he s tood between the l a va tori es a nd the l a tri nes ha vi ng her ha i r done up by the da ughter s he ha d not borne; but her l eft eye, the s trong one, di d not weep, nor di d i t know wha t the ri ght eye di d. She tha nked Ama i a nd hurri ed ba ck to her room. She ha d no ced, i n the mi rror, a s ta i n on her col l a r. Pea ch jui ce, proba bl y. Da mned ol d dri bbl er. She di dn’t wa nt Noi to come i n a nd fi nd her wi th drool on her col l a r. As the cl ea n s hi rt went on over her hea d, s he thought, Wha t’s s o s peci a l a bout Noi ? She fa s tened the col l a r-frogs wi th her l eft ha nd, s l owl y. Noi wa s thi rty or s o, a s l i ght, mus cul a r fel l ow wi th a s o voi ce a nd a l ert da rk eyes . Tha t’s wha t wa s s peci a l a bout Noi . It wa s tha t s i mpl e. Good ol d s ex. She ha d never been dra wn to a fa i r ma n or a fa t one, or the ta l l fel l ows wi th bi g bi ceps , never, not even when s he wa s fourteen a nd fel l i n l ove wi th every pa s s i ng fa rt. Da rk, s pa re, a nd fiery, tha t wa s the reci pe. Ta vi ri , of cours e. 101

Thi s boy wa s n’t a pa tch on Ta vi ri for bra i ns , nor even for l ooks , but there i t wa s : s he di dn’t wa nt hi m to s ee her wi th dri bbl e on her col l a r a nd her ha i r comi ng undone. Her thi n, grey ha i r. Noi ca me i n, jus t pa us i ng i n the open door—my God, s he ha dn’t even s hut the door whi l e cha ngi ng her s hi rt! She l ooked a t hi m a nd s a w hers el f. The ol d woma n. You coul d brus h your ha i r a nd cha nge your s hi rt, or you coul d wea r l a s t week’s s hi rt a nd l a s t ni ght’s bra i ds , or you coul d put on cl oth of gol d a nd dus t your s ha ven s ca l p wi th di a mond powder. None of i t woul d ma ke the s l i ghtes t di fference. The ol d woma n woul d l ook a l i ttl e l es s , or a l i ttl e more, grotes que. One keeps ones el f nea t out of mere decency, mere s a ni ty, a wa renes s of other peopl e. And fi na l l y even tha t goes , a nd one dri bbl es una s ha med. “Good morni ng,” the young ma n s a i d i n hi s gentl e voi ce. “Hel l o, Noi .” No, by God, i t wa s not out of mere decency. Decency be da mned. Beca us e the ma n s he ha d l oved, a nd to whom her a ge woul d not ha ve ma ered—beca us e he wa s dea d, mus t s he pretend s he ha d no s ex? Mus t s he s uppres s the truth, l i ke a da mned puri ta n a uthori ta ri a n? Even s i x months a go, before the s troke, s he ha d ma de men l ook a t her a nd l i ke to l ook a t her; a nd now, though s he coul d gi ve no pl ea s ure, by God s he coul d pl ea s e hers el f. When s he wa s s i x yea rs ol d, a nd Pa pa ’s fri end Ga deo Us ed to come by to ta l k pol i cs wi th Pa pa a er di nner, s he woul d put on the gol d-col ored neckl a ce tha t Ma ma ha d found on a tra s h hea p a nd brought home for her. It wa s s o s hort tha t i t a l wa ys got hi dden under her col l a r where nobody coul d s ee i t. She l i ked i t tha t wa y. She knew s he ha d i t on. She s a t on the doors tep a nd l i s tened to them ta l k, a nd knew tha t s he l ooked ni ce for Ga deo. He wa s da rk, wi th whi te teeth tha t fla s hed. Some mes he ca l l ed her “pretty La i a .” “There’s my pretty La i a !” Si xty-s i x yea rs a go. “Wha t? My hea d’s dul l . I ha d a terri bl e ni ght.” It wa s true. She ha d s l ept even l es s tha n us ua l . “I wa s a s ki ng i f you’d s een the pa pers thi s morni ng.” She nodded. “Pl ea s ed a bout Soi nehe?” Soi nehe wa s the provi nce i n Thu whi ch ha d decl a red i ts s eces s i on from the Thuvi a n Sta te l a s t ni ght. He wa s pl ea s ed a bout i t. Hi s whi te teeth fl a s hed i n hi s da rk, a l ert fa ce. Pretty La i a . “Yes . And a pprehens i ve.” “I know. But i t’s the rea l thi ng, thi s me. It’s the begi nni ng of the end of the Government i n Thu. They ha ven’t even tri ed to order troops i nto Soi nehe, you know. It woul d merel y provoke the s ol di ers i nto rebel l i on s ooner, a nd they know i t.” She a greed wi th hi m. She hers el f ha d fel t tha t certa i nty. But s he coul d not s ha re hi s del i ght. A er a l i fe me of l i vi ng on hope beca us e there i s nothi ng but hope, one l os es the ta s te for vi ctory. A rea l s ens e of tri umph mus t be preceded by rea l des pa i r. She ha d unl ea rned des pa i r a l ong ti me a go. There were no more tri umphs . One went on. “Sha l l we do thos e l etters toda y?” “Al l ri ght. Whi ch l etters ?” “To the peopl e i n the North,” he s a i d wi thout i mpa ti ence. “In the North?” “Pa rheo, Oa i dun.” She ha d been born i n Pa rheo, the di rty ci ty on the di rty ri ver. She ha d not come here to the ca pi ta l l l s he wa s twenty-two a nd rea dy to bri ng the Revol u on. Though i n thos e da ys , before s he a nd the others ha d thought i t through, i t ha d been a very green a nd pueri l e revol u on. Stri kes for be er wa ges , repres enta on for women. Votes a nd wa ges —Power a nd Money, for the l ove of God! Wel l , one does l ea rn a l i ttl e, a fter a l l , i n fi fty yea rs . But then one mus t forget i t a l l . “Sta rt wi th Oa i dun,” s he s a i d, s i ng down i n the a rmcha i r. Noi wa s a t the des k rea dy to work. He rea d out excerpts from the l e ers s he wa s to a ns wer. She tri ed to pa y a en on, a nd s ucceeded wel l enough tha t s he di cta ted one whol e l e er a nd s ta rted on a nother. “Remember tha t a t thi s s ta ge your brotherhood i s vul nera bl e to the threa t of... no, to the da nger... to...” She groped ti l l Noi s ugges ted, “The da nger of l ea der-wors hi p?” “Al l ri ght. And tha t nothi ng i s s o s oon corrupted by power-s eeki ng a s a l trui s m. No. And tha t nothi ng corrupts a l trui s m—no. O for God’s l ove you know wha t I’m tryi ng to s a y, Noi , you wri te i t. They know i t too, i t’s jus t the s a me ol d s tuff, why ca n’t they rea d my books !” 102

“Touch,” Noi s a i d gentl y, s mi l i ng, ci ti ng one of the centra l Odoni a n themes . “Al l ri ght, but I’m red of bei ng touched. If you’l l wri te the l e er I’l l s i gn i t, but I ca n’t be bothered wi th i t thi s morni ng.” He wa s l ooki ng a t her wi th a l i ttl e ques ti on or concern. She s a i d, i rri ta bl e, “There i s s omethi ng el s e I ha ve to do!” When Noi ha d gone s he s a t down a t the des k a nd moved the pa pers a bout, pretendi ng to be doi ng s omethi ng, beca us e s he ha d been s ta rtl ed, fri ghtened, by the words s he ha d s a i d. She ha d nothi ng el s e to do. She never ha d ha d a nythi ng el s e to do. Thi s wa s her work: her l i fework. The s pea ki ng tours a nd the mee ngs a nd the s treets were out of rea ch for her now, but s he coul d s l l wri te, a nd tha t wa s her work. And a nyhow i f s he ha d ha d a nythi ng el s e to do, Noi woul d ha ve known i t; he kept her s chedul e, a nd ta ctful l y remi nded her of thi ngs , l i ke the vi s i t from the forei gn s tudents thi s a fternoon. Oh, da mn. She l i ked the young, a nd there wa s a l wa ys s omethi ng to l ea rn from a forei gner, but s he wa s red of new fa ces , a nd ti red of bei ng on vi ew. She l ea rned from them, but they di dn’t l ea rn from her; they ha d l ea rnt a l l s he ha d to tea ch l ong a go, from her books , from the Movement. They jus t ca me to l ook, a s i f s he were the Grea t Tower i n Roda rred, or the Ca nyon of the Tul a evea . A phenomenon, a monument. They were a wed, a dori ng. She s na rl ed a t them: Thi nk your own thoughts ! —Tha t’s not a na rchi s m, tha t’s mere obs cura n s m. —You don’t thi nk l i berty a nd di s ci pl i ne a re i ncompa bl e, do you?— They a ccepted thei r tongue-l a s hi ng meekl y a s chi l dren, gra teful l y, a s i f s he were s ome ki nd of Al l -Mother, the i dol of the Bi g Shel teri ng Womb. She! She who ha d mi ned the s hi pya rds a t Sei s s ero, a nd ha d curs ed Premi er Inoi l te to hi s fa ce i n front of a crowd of s even thous a nd, tel l i ng hi m he woul d ha ve cut off hi s own ba l l s a nd ha d them bronzed a nd s ol d a s s ouveni rs , i f he thought there wa s a ny profit i n i t—s he who ha d s creeched, a nd s worn, a nd ki cked pol i cemen, a nd s pa t a t pri es ts , a nd pi s s ed i n publ i c on the bi g bra s s pl a que i n Ca pi tol Squa re tha t s a i d HERE WAS FOUNDED THE SOVEREIGN NATION STATE OF A-IO ETC ETC, ps s s s s s s s s s to a l l tha t! And now s he wa s everybody’s gra ndma ma , the dea r ol d l a dy, the s weet ol d monument, come wors hi p a t the womb. The fire’s out, boys , i t’s s a fe to come up cl os e. “No, I won’t,” La i a s a i d out l oud. “I wi l l not.” She wa s not s el f-cons ci ous a bout ta l ki ng to hers el f, beca us e s he a l wa ys ha d ta l ked to hers el f. “La i a ’s i nvi s i bl e a udi ence,” Ta vi ri ha d us ed to s a y, a s s he went through the room mu eri ng. “You needn’t come, I won’t be here,” s he tol d the i nvi s i bl e a udi ence now. She ha d jus t deci ded wha t i t wa s s he ha d to do. She ha d to go out. To go i nto the s treets . It wa s i ncons i dera te to di s a ppoi nt the forei gn s tudents . It wa s erra c, typi ca l l y s eni l e. It wa s unOdoni a n. Ps s s s s s s to a l l tha t. Wha t wa s the good worki ng for freedom a l l your l i fe a nd endi ng up wi thout a ny freedom a t a l l ? She woul d go out for a wa l k. “Wha t i s a n a na rchi s t? One who, choos i ng, a ccepts the res pons i bi l i ty of choi ce.’' On the wa y downs ta i rs s he deci ded, s cowl i ng, to s ta y a nd s ee the forei gn s tudents . But then s he woul d go out. They were very young s tudents , very ea rnes t: doeeyed, s ha ggy, cha rmi ng crea tures from the Wes tern Hemi s phere, Benbi l i a nd the Ki ngdom of Ma nd, the gi rl s i n whi te trous ers , the boys i n l ong ki l ts , wa rl i ke a nd a rcha i c. They s poke of thei r hopes . “We i n Ma nd a re s o very fa r from the Revol u on tha t ma ybe we a re nea r i t,” s a i d one of the gi rl s , wi s ul a nd s mi l i ng: “ The Ci rcl e of Li fe!” a nd s he s howed the extremes mee ng, i n the ci rcl e of her s l ender, da rk-s ki nned fingers . Ama i a nd Aevi s erved them whi te wi ne a nd brown brea d, the hos pi ta l i ty of the Hous e. But the vi s i tors , unpres umptuous , a l l ros e to ta ke thei r l ea ve a er ba rel y ha l f a n hour. “No, no, no,” La i a s a i d, “s ta y here, ta l k wi th Aevi a nd Ama i . It’s jus t tha t I get s ff s i ng down, you s ee, I ha ve to cha nge a bout. It ha s been s o good to meet you, wi l l you come ba ck to s ee me, my l i l e brothers a nd s i s ters , s oon?” For her hea rt went out to them, a nd thei rs to her, a nd s he excha nged ki s s es a l l round, l a ughi ng, del i ghted by the da rk young cheeks , the a ffec ona te eyes , the s cented ha i r, before s he s huffled off. She wa s rea l l y a l i l e red, but to go up a nd ta ke a na p woul d be a defea t. She ha d wa nted to go out. She woul d go out. She ha d not been a l one outdoors s i nce—when? Si nce wi nter! before the s troke. No wonder s he wa s getti ng morbi d. It ha d been a regul a r ja i l s entence. Outs i de, the s treets , tha t’s where s he l i ved. She went qui etl y out the s i de door of the Hous e, pa s t the vegeta bl e pa tch, to the s treet. The na rrow s tri p of s our ci ty di rt ha d been bea u ful l y ga rdened a nd wa s produci ng a fine crop of bea ns a nd ceea , but La i a ’s eye for fa rmi ng wa s unenl i ghtened. Of cours e i t ha d been cl ea r tha t a na rchi s t communi ti es , even i n the ti me of tra ns i ti on, mus t work towa rds opti ma l s el f-s upport, but how tha t wa s to be ma na ged i n the wa y of a ctua l di rt a nd pl a nts wa s n’t her bus i nes s . There were fa rmers a nd a gronomi s ts for tha t. Her job wa s the s treets , the noi s y, s nki ng s treets of s tone, where s he ha d grown up a nd l i ved a l l her l i fe, except for the fi fteen yea rs i n pri s on. She l ooked up fondl y a t the fa ca de of the Hous e. Tha t i t ha d been bui l t a s a ba nk ga ve pecul i a r s a s fa c on to i ts pres ent occupa nts . They kept thei r s a cks of mea l i n the bomb-proof money-va ul t, a nd a ged thei r ci der i n kegs i n s a fe depos i t boxes . Over the fus s y col umns tha t fa ced the s treet ca rved l e ers s l l rea d, “Na ona l Inves tors a nd Gra i n Fa ctors Ba nki ng As s oci a on.” The Movement wa s not s trong on na mes . They ha d no fla g. Sl oga ns ca me a nd went a s the need di d. There wa s a l wa ys the Ci rcl e of Li fe to s cra tch on wa l l s a nd pa vements where Authori ty woul d ha ve to s ee i t. But when i t ca me to na mes they were i ndi fferent, a ccep ng a nd i gnori ng wha tever they got ca l l ed, a fra i d of bei ng pi nned down a nd penned i n, una fra i d of bei ng a bs urd. So thi s bes t known a nd s econd ol des t of a l l the coopera ti ve Hous es ha d no na me except The Ba nk. It fa ced on a wi de a nd qui et s treet, but onl y a bl ock a wa y bega n the Temeba , a n open ma rket, once fa mous a s a center for bl a ck-ma rket ps ychogeni cs a nd tera togeni cs , now reduced to vegeta bl es , s econdha nd cl othes , a nd mi s era bl e s i des hows . Its cra pul ous vi ta l i ty wa s gone, l ea vi ng onl y ha l f-pa ra l yzed a l cohol i cs , a ddi cts , cri ppl es , hucks ters , a nd fi h-ra te whores , pa wns hops , ga mbl i ng dens , fortune-tel l ers , body-s cul ptors , a nd chea p hotel s . La i a turned to the Temeba a s wa ter s eeks i ts l evel . She ha d never fea red or des pi s ed the ci ty. It wa s her country. There woul d not be s l ums l i ke thi s , i f the Revol uti on preva i l ed. But there woul d be mi s ery. There woul d a l wa ys be mi s ery, wa s te, cruel ty. She ha d never pretended to be cha ngi ng the huma n condi on, to be Ma ma ta ki ng tra gedy a wa y from the chi l dren s o they won’t hurt thems el ves . Anythi ng but. So l ong a s peopl e were free to choos e, i f they chos e to dri nk flyba ne a nd l i ve i n s ewers , i t wa s thei r bus i nes s . Jus t s o l ong a s i t wa s n’t the bus i nes s of Bus i nes s , the s ource of profit a nd the mea ns of power for other peopl e. She ha d fel t a l l tha t before s he knew a nythi ng; before s he wrote the firs t pa mphl et, before s he l e Pa rheo, before s he knew wha t “ca pi ta l ” mea nt, before s he’d been fa rther tha n Ri ver Street where s he pl a yed rol l ta ggi e kneel i ng on s ca bby knees on the pa vement wi th the other s i x-yea r-ol ds , 103

s he ha d known i t: tha t s he, a nd the other ki ds , a nd her pa rents , a nd thei r pa rents , a nd the drunks a nd whores a nd a l l of Ri ver Street, were a t the bo om of s omethi ng—were the founda on, the rea l i ty, the s ource. But wi l l you dra g ci vi l i za on down i nto the mud? cri ed the s hocked decent peopl e, l a ter on, a nd s he ha d tri ed for yea rs to expl a i n to them tha t i f a l l you ha d wa s mud, then i f you were God you ma de i t i nto huma n bei ngs , a nd i f you were huma n you tri ed to ma ke i t i nto hous es where huma n bei ngs coul d l i ve. But nobody who thought he wa s be er tha n mud woul d unders ta nd. Now, wa ter s eeki ng i ts l evel , mud to mud, La i a s huffled through the foul , noi s y s treet, a nd a l l the ugl y wea knes s of her ol d a ge wa s a t home. The s l eepy whores , thei r l a cquered ha i r-a rra ngements di l a pi da ted a nd a s kew, the one-eyed woma n wea ri l y yel l i ng her vegeta bl es to s el l , the ha fwi t begga r s l a ppi ng fli es , thes e were her country-women. They l ooked l i ke her, they were a l l s a d, di s gus ng, mea n, pi ful , hi deous . They were her s i s ters , her own peopl e. She di d not feel very wel l . It ha d been a l ong me s i nce s he ha d wa l ked s o fa r, four or five bl ocks , by hers el f, i n the noi s e a nd pus h a nd s tri ki ng s ummer hea t of the s treets . She ha d wa nted to get to Kol y Pa rk, the tri a ngl e of s cruffy gra s s a t the end of the Temeba , a nd s i t there for a whi l e wi th the other ol d men a nd women who a l wa ys s a t there, to s ee wha t i t wa s l i ke to s i t there a nd be ol d; but i t wa s too fa r. If s he di dn’t turn ba ck now, s he mi ght get a di zzy s pel l , a nd s he ha d a drea d of fa l l i ng down, fa l l i ng down a nd ha vi ng to l i e there a nd l ook up a t the peopl e come to s ta re a t the ol d woma n i n a fit. She turned a nd s ta rted home, frowni ng wi th effort a nd s el f-di s gus t. She coul d feel her fa ce very red, a nd a s wi mmi ng feel i ng ca me a nd went i n her ea rs . It got a bi t much, s he wa s rea l l y a fra i d s he mi ght keel over. She s a w a doors tep i n the s ha de a nd ma de for i t, l et hers el f down ca uti ous l y, s a t, s i ghed. Nea rby wa s a frui t-s el l er, s i ng s i l ent behi nd hi s dus ty, wi thered s tock. Peopl e went by. Nobody bought from hi m. Nobody l ooked a t her. Odo, who wa s Odo? Fa mous revol u ona ry, a uthor of Communi ty, The Ana l ogy, etc. etc. She, who wa s s he? An ol d woma n wi th grey ha i r a nd a red fa ce s i tti ng on a di rty doors tep i n a s l um, mutteri ng to hers el f. True? Wa s tha t s he? Certa i nl y i t wa s wha t a nybody pa s s i ng her s a w. But wa s i t s he, hers el f, a ny more tha n the fa mous revol uti ona ry, etc., wa s ? No. It wa s not. But who wa s s he, then? The one who l oved Ta vi ri . Yes . True enough. But not enough. Tha t wa s gone; he ha d been dea d s o l ong. “Who a m I?” La i a mu ered to her i nvi s i bl e a udi ence, a nd they knew the a ns wer a nd tol d i t to her wi th one voi ce. She wa s the l i ttl e gi rl wi th s ca bby knees , s i tti ng on the doors tep s ta ri ng down through the di rty gol den ha ze of Ri ver Street i n the hea t of l a te s ummer, the s i x-yea r-ol d, the s i xteen-yea r-ol d, the fierce, cros s , drea m-ri dden gi rl , untouched, untoucha bl e. She wa s hers el f. Indeed s he ha d been the rel es s worker a nd thi nker, but a bl ood cl ot i n a vei n ha d ta ken tha t woma n a wa y from her. Indeed s he ha d been the l over, the s wi mmer i n the mi ds t of l i fe, but Ta vi ri , dyi ng, ha d ta ken tha t woma n a wa y wi th hi m. There wa s nothi ng l eft, rea l l y, but the founda ti on. She ha d come home; s he ha d never l eft home. “True voya ge i s return.” Dus t a nd mud a nd a doors tep i n the s l ums . And beyond, a t the fa r end of the s treet the fiel d ful l of ta l l dry weeds bl owi ng i n the wi nd a s ni ght ca me. “La i a ! Wha t a re you doi ng here? Are you a l l ri ght?” One of the peopl e from the Hous e, of cours e, a ni ce woma n, a bi t fa na ca l a nd a l wa ys ta l ki ng. La i a coul d not remember her na me though s he ha d known her for yea rs . She l et hers el f be ta ken home, the woma n ta l ki ng a l l the wa y. In the bi g cool common room (once occupi ed by tel l ers coun ng money behi nd pol i s hed counters s upervi s ed by a rmed gua rds ) La i a s a t down i n a cha i r. She wa s una bl e jus t a s yet to fa ce cl i mbi ng the s ta i rs , though s he woul d ha ve l i ked to be a l one. The woma n kept on ta l ki ng, a nd other exci ted peopl e ca me i n. It a ppea red tha t a demons tra on wa s bei ng pl a nned. Events i n Thu were movi ng s o fa s t tha t the mood here ha d ca ught fire, a nd s omethi ng mus t be done. Da y a er tomorrow, no, tomorrow, there wa s to be a ma rch, a bi g one, from Ol d Town to Ca pi tol Squa re—the ol d route. “Another Ni nth Month Upri s i ng,” s a i d a young ma n, fiery a nd l a ughi ng, gl a nci ng a t La i a . He ha d not even been born a t the me of the Ni nth Month Upri s i ng, i t wa s a l l hi s tory to hi m. Now he wa nted to ma ke s ome hi s tory of hi s own. The room ha d fil l ed up. A genera l mee ng woul d be hel d here, tomorrow, a t ei ght i n the morni ng. “You mus t ta l k, La i a .” "Tomorrow? Oh, I won’t be here tomorrow,” s he s a i d brus quel y. Whoever ha d a s ked her s mi l ed, a nother one l a ughed, though Ama i gl a nced round a t her wi th a puzzl ed l ook. They went on ta l ki ng a nd s hou ng. The Revol u on. Wha t on ea rth ha d ma de her s a y tha t? Wha t a thi ng to s a y on the eve of the Revol uti on, even i f i t wa s true. She wa i ted her me, ma na ged to get up a nd, for a l l her cl ums i nes s , to s l i p a wa y unno ced a mong the peopl e bus y wi th thei r pl a nni ng a nd exci tement. She got to the ha l l , to the s ta i rs , a nd bega n to cl i mb them one by one. “ The genera l s tri ke,” a voi ce, two voi ces , ten voi ces were s a yi ng i n the room bel ow, behi nd her. “ The genera l s tri ke,” La i a mu ered, res ng for a moment on the l a ndi ng. Above, a hea d, i n her room, wha t a wa i ted her? The pri va te s troke. Tha t wa s mi l dl y funny. She s ta rted up the s econd fli ght of s ta i rs , one by one, one l eg a t a me, l i ke a s ma l l chi l d. She wa s di zzy, but s he wa s no l onger a fra i d to fa l l . On a hea d, on there, the dry whi te flowers nodded a nd whi s pered i n the open fiel ds of eveni ng. Seventy-two yea rs a nd s he ha d never ha d ti me to l ea rn wha t they were ca l l ed. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Urs ul a K. Le Gui n wa s born i n Berkel ey, Ca l i forni a , i n 1929, the da ughter of the a nthropol ogi s t Al fred L. Kroeber a nd the wri ter Theodora Kroeber, a uthor of l s hi i n Two Worl ds a nd other books . She a ended Ra dcl i ffe Col l ege a nd Col umbi a Uni vers i ty, a nd duri ng a Ful bri ght yea r i n Pa ri s ma rri ed a hi s tori a n, Cha rl es Le Gui n. Her wri ng ha s a ppea red i n publ i ca ons s peci a l i zi ng i n s ci ence fic on a nd others , i ncl udi ng Fa nta s c, Ama zi ng, Pl a yboy a nd The Ha rva rd Advoca te. In 1972, Ms . Le Gui n won the Hugo Awa rd for bes t novel l a for “ The Word for Worl d Is Fores t.” “ The Ones Who Wa l k Awa y from Omel a s ,” whi ch i s i ncl uded i n thi s col l ecti on, won the Hugo Awa rd for bes t s hort s tory i n 1973. “The Da y Before the Revol uti on,” a l s o i ncl uded, won the 1974 Nebul a Awa rd for bes t s hort s tory. A Wi za rd of Ea rths ea , the firs t book i n Ms . Le Gui n’s Ea rths ea Tri l ogy, wa s a wa rded the Bos ton Gl obe Horn Book Awa rd for Excel l ence i n 1969, a nd wa s fol l owed by The Tombs of Atua n a nd The Fa rthes t Shore, whi ch wa s the wi nner of the Na ona l Book Awa rd for Chi l dren’s Books i n 1973. Among Ms . Le Gui n’s other novel s a re Roca nnon’s Worl d, Pl a net of 104

Exi l e, Ci ty of Il l us i on, The Le Ha nd of Da rknes s , wi nner of the Hugo a nd Nebul a a wa rds for bes t novel i n 1969, a nd The Di s pos s es s ed, whi ch won the 1974 Nebul a a nd Hugo a wa rds for bes t novel . The a uthor pres entl y l i ves i n Portl a nd, Oregon, wi th her hus ba nd a nd thei r three chi l dren.

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