He fell asleep beneath a tree and dreamed vivid dreams of his mother and father, of Alohilani, and of a great black formless creature that hovered silently always just behind him. When Courane turned quickly around to see, the creature was always gone, but Courane felt its breath on his neck and heard its panting. The creature was named TECT.

  ** EIGHT

  **COURANE. Sandor:

  You are taking a lot for granted**

  “Maybe, but you told me yourself that there are these little things called viroids that are responsible—”

  **COURANE, Sandor:

  Yes, yes. Shut up and listen. Viroids are responsible for D syndrome and there is nothing you can do to remove them from the human neervous system once they have entered it. What you ought to do now is learn how they work, how they act on the human organism, and how to rectify the damage they do**

  Courane was a little confused. “Didn’t I try that already?” he asked. “When you refused to give us the drugs that improve memory?”

  **COURANE, Sandor:

  That is nothing like what you must do. Treating D fever symptomatically is as Mile as treating a cerebral hemorrhage with aspirin. Enhancing memory is not the answer**

  Courane thought for a long while. He tried to frame his questions in just the right way necessary if he were going to make any further progress. It was like a gigantic puzzle all of whose pieces were the same color. “Either these viroids are making something the body can’t tolerate or they’re preventing the body from doing something vital. Which of these two possibilities is the closest to the truth?”

  **COURANE; Sandor:

  Excellent, COURANE, Sandor! TECT in the name of the Representative is amazed and gratified by how well you formed that question. You are taking great steps in your pursuit of this knowledge. Unfortunately you are ill-equipped to comprehend the answer**

  “I didn’t ask for that,” he said. “Give me the answer.”

  **COURANE, Sandor:

  Although TECT in the name of the Representative has succeeded in fastening the blame on the vi-roids, we are still unsure exactly how to describe their mechanism. This matter is still under investigation **

  “So TECT doesn’t know. How about the slow viruses that have been studied previously? How do they work?”

  “COURANE, Sandor:

  Their functions are similarly a mystery **

  “Do they have anything in common? I mean, in the way they attack the host.”

  “COURANE, Sandor:

  There has been some speculation, but you probably wouldn’t be interested in that**

  Courane slammed his fist on the console. “Let me hear it,” he said.

  “COURANE, Sandor:

  It’s possible the viroids interfere with the utilization of a certain neurotransmitter; that is, with a substance that enables signals to pass along the nerve conduits to the brain**

  “What is this stuff?”

  “COURANE, Sandor:

  **Acetylcholine. Now TECT in the name of. the Representative knows what you’re going to say. You’re thinking that this is the same substance that was given to human volunteers and showed no effectiveness in improving their memory**

  “That’s right. What’s the point?”

  **COURANE, Sandor:

  Other experiments have been done which give more hope. Acetylcholine’s chemical precursor is choline. The primary source of choline is lecithin, which is found in meat, eggs, and fish. Lecithin has been shown to be even more efficient than pure choline in increasing the brain’s production of the neurotransmitter and in suppressing harmful symptoms **

  “You say lecithin can help to fight the viroids?”

  **COURANE, Sandor:

  TECT in the name of the Representative made no such claim. Lecithin will do nothing about the viroids. It will only stimulate the production of acetylcholine in the brain, which may help to minimize the pain and emotional distress of D syndrome. All of this is mere speculation, idle desires, wishing and dreaming almost completely unfounded on solid experimental data, yearnings and cravings and desperate fantasies spun only to alleviate the severity of your hopelessness **

  “What about the lecithin in our food? Is there the same amount of lecithin in the fish and meat on Planet D as on Earth?”

  **COURANE, Sandor:

  Of course it’s there. But your food is where the viroids are coming from as well**

  “They’re in the meat and fish?”

  **COURANE, Sandor:

  They’re in the plants, too**

  “Then there’s no way to avoid catching D syndrome once you’ve come here!”

  **COURANE, Sandor:

  BUJABÉ, Kenny, could have told you that. Of course, one could just refuse to eat until he is returned to Earth **

  “And when would that be?” asked Courane skeptically.

  **COURANE, Sandor:

  After death, of course. That is very amusing **

  A few days after Markie’s death, as New Year’s approached, Courane found himself in an unshakable depression. Kenny had given him the vital piece of information and TECT had confirmed it. They were all, without exception, condemned to death. Kenny had known it for months. “Why didn’t you tell me?” asked Courane. “Why did you let me waste so much valuable time?”

  “Waste?” said Kenny. “What would you have done instead if I had told you?”

  Courane had no answer. There wouldn’t have been anything he could have done about it. “Still,” he said, “I wish you had told me.”

  Kenny shook his head. “Sandy,” he said, “what do you talk about when you visit people in the infirmary?” “Nothing. Not much. Most of the time, they aren’t in any shape to have a conversation.”

  “But when they’re conscious and talking, what do you talk about?”

  Courane tried to recall. He remembered a talk he had with Sheldon, who had gone into the infirmary only a week before. It had been a difficult visit because Al-ohilani was going through a period of intense anxiety and restlessness and had to be tied down to her bed for her own good. Sheldon had a great deal of pain, but was otherwise lucid. They talked about what Sheldon planned to do in the spring. He wanted to help Daan and Fletcher build the boats they had talked about. Courane listened to the chatter for a few minutes and then, disturbed by Alohilani’s condition, pretended he had duties elsewhere. “I talk about whatever they want to talk about, of course,” he said.

  “Sure you do,” said Kenny. “Do you tell them to their faces that they’re going to die?”

  Courane was shocked. “No,” he said.

  “You never tell a person he’s going to die. You never even bring up the subject unless he wants to talk about it. See, if he asks you right out, you don’t lie. You tell him the truth, but you give him some hope, too. If you had asked me weeks ago, I would have told you what I knew. What’s the point of telling every new person who comes here that he doesn’t have a snowball’s chance to get back to Earth alive?”

  “None, I guess,” said Courane.

  “Let them live the rest of their lives in peace. If they stumble on the truth, then they can prepare themselves. If they don’t ever find out, they’ll die in their sleep like Markie.”

  “You’re just a kid and you knew it all along,” Courane said. “Even Fletcher wasn’t sure about it.”

  “Fletcher has a good idea. Fletcher’s pretty sharp.”

  Courane said nothing. At that time, his opinion of Fletcher was low. He thought Fletcher was just an arrogant, rather stupid young man from the slums of North America.

  “So now that you know,” said Kenny, “what are you going to do?”

  “Daan and I are going to get to work. We’re going to learn everything we can about the disease. We’re going to start looking for a cure, and we’re going to find out the truth about TECT.”

  Kenny laughed.

  “But first,” said Courane, “Daan and Rachel and I are going exploring.”

  “I thought you didn’t like to leave the house very much.”

  “I don’t unless it’s absolutely necessary. We’re going to look for firewood in the hills.”

  “Why don’t you go across the river?” asked Kenny.

  “Fletcher is going that way.”

  “Maybe I can go with him,” said Kenny, excited by the prospect.

  “You’ll have to stay here and take care of the animals. They depend on you.”

  “Sure.” Kenny had agreed too quickly; Courane suspected that he was planning to go along with Fletcher one way or another.

  “So no one but you and I and Fletcher and Daan know the truth about TECT and Planet D.”

  Kenny smiled. “Unless you want to panic the others.”

  “There’s no reason for that,” said Courane. “But there might be a reason in the future.”

  “I’d make you a bet on that,” said Kenny, “if I were going to live long enough to collect on it.” Courane waited to see if the boy was serious or kidding him once again. He couldn’t tell; Kenny walked away whistling.

  The snow was falling gently but steadily; Courane watched it pile up from a window in the parlor. It was the twelfth of Vitelli. Lani was near death. Sheldon was in the infirmary, too, and Molly would join him soon. The people he had grown to love on Home were beginning to succumb to the slow virus.

  Goldie came into the parlor. “Have you seen Arthur?” she asked.

  Courane turned around. He had been lost in thought. “What did you say, Goldie?”

  “Have you seen Arthur this afternoon? It’s smudgeon for dinner and he and I have to kill the bird and clean it.”

  “No,” said Courane, “I haven’t seen him since yesterday evening.”

  Goldie’s pet was sliding along toward Courane. “Feh,” she called in her shrill voice, “get back here.” The ick paid no attention. “He isn’t very well trained yet,” she said in apology.

  “That’s all right,” said Courane, watching the ‘ick leave a glistening wet trail behind it on the polished wooden floor. Feh stopped beside his shoe and threw up a gelatinous pediform glob. Courane grimaced and jerked his foot away.

  “Feh,” called Goldie, “come here.” Feh only quivered.

  “I’ll tell you what, Goldie. I’ll take care of the smudgeon with Arthur. There’s something I want to discuss with him anyway.”

  She looked immensely grateful. “Would you?” she said.

  Courane just looked down at his shoe. The ick was making another approach. “I’d be glad to. Just call off your animal.”

  Goldie was able to lure Feh away by leaving a trail of salt. Courane shuddered as he watched Goldie the ick-tamer leading her beast out of the room. He went up to Arthur’s room, but the small man wasn’t there. Next, Courane tried the barn. Arthur, Kenny, and Rachel were watching the varks annoy the osoi. “Arthur,” said Courane, “we have to pick a smudgeon for dinner.”

  “Take the big brown one,” said Kenny, “the one with the missing ear and the limp.”

  “Kenny’s been teaching me about the animals,” said Rachel. “I’m going to take over for him after he leaves.” “Good,” said Courane. “Arthur, let’s go look for that smudgeon.”

  “I think I saw it by the groon field a little while ago,” said Kenny.

  “Okay, that’s good enough.” Arthur looked very uncomfortable as Courane led him out of the bam.

  “You want to talk about last night,” said Arthur. Courane nodded. Although the winter was ending, it was still very cold. Their words were punctuated with puffs of frosty breath. “What did all that mean, Arthur? And don’t bother with that business about there not being any TECT.”

  Arthur gave a weak smile. “I didn’t think you’d buy that.”

  “I don’t think even Nneka bought it and she’s only been here for a month. What were you doing?”

  “My job, Sandy, just my job.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  Arthur stopped and faced away from Courane, across the groon field toward the river. “I’m an agent for TECT, Sandy. I was sent here as kind of a spy.”

  “A spy. What does TECT need a spy for?”

  “You saw. You read what it wants to know. TECT is worried that some people here may be plotting to start a revolutionary movement back on Earth.”

  Courane started walking again, across the field filled with dead groon husks. The deep snow crunched beneath his feet as he staggered through the drifts. “That makes no sense at all, Arthur,” he said. “In the first place, there isn’t anything we can do from here. What possible trouble could we stir up? We can’t communicate with anyone on Earth without TECT listening in. And after all, how can a computing machine ‘worry’?”

  Arthur took a deep breath of the cold air; it made him sneeze. “Sandy, believe me, TECT can worry. TECT can be jealous and angry, too. I know.”

  “How?”

  “I was on the engineering team that developed the final phase of TECT’s autonomic regulatory system. I probably know as much about TECT’s attitudes and capabilities as anyone on Earth. Or Planet D.”

  “Ah,” said Courane. “Then how did you end up here? This farm is for criminals.”

  “When we finished hooking up the installation in the Azores, the last Representative decided it was time to turn over the world’s troubles to TECT. By then, TECT was handling most of his problems anyway, and Tom thought it would be all right to retire and let the machine make all the rest of the decisions. There was nothing left for my associates and me to do. TECT sent me here last year to keep it informed of any possible treasonous activities.”

  “As part of your job?”

  “Yes, in a way. A new assignment. It took TECT quite some time to find new employment for some of the more specialized technicians, to dispose of everyone.”

  “To dispose of everyone is right,” murmured Courane. He felt a wave of sadness sweep over him. As deluded as he had been, here was an intelligent man who was blinder still. “And you expect to be sent home soon?” “Soon. TECT hasn’t given me a final date.”

  Courane put his arm around the man’s shoulders. “Arthur,” he said, “I have some very bad news to tell you.

  * * *

  The foliage in the hills was of a drab gray-blue color quite distinct from the red-purple vegetation around the farm. The grass that covered the hills was not as tall as the red variety, and it was stiff and spiky. The trees were of many varieties, some tall and billowing with clouds of small gray leaves, others strict and straight as naked poles, topped with long flimsy streamers that floated in the wind. There were evergreens that weren’t green but blue, with rigid spines on their low branches to protect against the gnawing of the varks that lived among the forested heights.

  There were flowers too, many more varieties than the colonists had become familiar with near the river. The colors of the blossoms ranged from deep midnight blue to a gentle sea green; there were no yellows or reds. The flecks of color were a welcome relief from the emptiness of the desert and the generally dull vegetation of the woods. Yet even the flowers were unsettling to Courane. When he examined them, he learned that their shapes were gross and oddly bestial. Like the flowers close to the farmhouse, these, too, released perfumes offensive to Earthborn senses.

  In an open space at the summit of one of the hills, Courane paused to take a rest. He put the young woman’s body down carefully in the sawtoothed grass and sat cross-legged, facing the farther slopes to the east. He would be through them all soon. He could see a pass that threaded its way among three low hills to his right. The way would be easier and he might come through the chain and arrive at the house in four days.

  He was feeling well, although he was very tired. The day was cool and the fresh breeze from the northeast rustled the leaves around him. He closed his eyes for a moment, intending to rise shortly and continue his day’s journey; a bird chirped nearby in a tree at the edge of the small clearing. The bird’s song was soft and musical, and, as Courane listened, it seemed to him to sound exactly like a woman’s voice.

  Courane opened his eyes to look for the bird, but he forgot about it instantly. Around him in the clearing three women were dancing, their hands joined as they formed a circle about him. The women were super-naturally beautiful, more beautiful than any he had ever seen in his life. They were dressed in long gowns of some lovely gossamer material. They were like goddesses, the three Graces, ideals of beauty and charm. They danced around him smiling, but Courane saw that each was weeping as well.

  “Now,” Courane said to himself, “this is the magic moment. Now I will find out what my life means and what I must do.” Fearfully he addressed the women. “Why are you crying?” he asked of the first.

  “I’m crying for you,” she said. Courane was frightened to see that she was his mother, radiant and youthful and grieving.

  “But you don’t have to cry for me,” he said. “I’m all right. I’m fine, Mom.” He tried to stand up and he could not. He felt helpless, but not vulnerable.