Zeth headed toward the back of the house, but met Trina Morgan in the hall. She carried two cups of steaming tea. "Zeth! No, you can't go back there now. Everybody's busy." She set the tea glasses down on the edge of the staircase, and

put her hands on Zeth's shoulders. "I know why Mr. Veritt took you out this morning, Zeth. You want to talk to your parents, but you're going to have to be strong until they finish their work."

"No," said Zeth. "It's a changeover! Mr. Veritt sent me for Uel Whelan."

"What stage?"

"Three."

"Then there's time." She nodded calmly.

"But the girl," Zeth began. "She's—"

Unhurried, Trina picked up the tea glasses and went toward the parlor. "Let me deliver this tea, Zeth, and then I'll go tell Uel for you."

Companions were supposed to remain unruffled in a crisis, but as Zeth fidgeted in the hall, itching to get back to the Fort, he thought that Trina was carrying things too far.

Finally Trina left the parlor. Zeth followed her to one of the insulated rooms, where she opened the door a crack and slid carefully inside, closing it behind her.

Zeth shifted back and forth from one foot to the other, until at last Uel Whelan came out. The young channel was clearly preoccupied. "Stage three, you said? Who told you?"

"Mr. Veritt. He—"

"How long ago?"

"Half hour, forty-five minutes. But—"

"Tell Abel I'll be there by stage five, maybe sooner." With that, Uel ducked back inside the room. Zeth wanted to shout after him that the victim was from out-Territory, Mr. Veritt's granddaughter—but he didn't dare interrupt.

So he rode back to the Old Fort, Patches loping along beside him. At the Veritt house, Marji had already been taken into the insulated room, where Mrs. Veritt made up the couch into a bed. Zeth noticed how Abel Veritt kept himself between his wife and his daughter like a channel or Companion. Mrs. Veritt was not in need, but she was past turnover. The wetness on her cheeks testified to her frustration that she dared not come near her daughter.

She took out her mothering instinct on her granddaughter, saying, "Hope, she's as beautiful as you were as a little girl."

Mr. Veritt turned when Zeth entered. "Did you find Uel?"

"Yes. He said he'd be here by stage five, maybe sooner."

"That's fine. I'll coach her till he gets here. Hope, you shouldn't stay. Marji will start responding to your field."

"Oh, Daddy, I can't leave her when she's in pain!"

Marji was struggling for every breath, the sound a strong counterpoint to their conversation.

"No," said Mr. Veritt, "she's not in pain, although she's uncomfortable because she has no training. She's not getting enough oxygen. If she knew controlled breathing, she'd be alert now, if weak."

Just then Marji cried out sharply, gasped, and fell silent. Mr. Veritt zlinned her, and smiled reassuringly. "There—• stage four, and she's asleep, not unconscious. She'll gain strength for the last two stages. I'll stay with her. Zeth, please take care of my daughter.

So Zeth was to be chased away again. Well, maybe when Del came he could sneak back in.

By this time, other Simes were on the porch. Mrs. Young came in to ask, "Who's in changeover, Margid?" Then she stared at Hope. "Is that—? Oh, it can't be!"

"My daughter," Mrs. Veritt said. "She brought us her daughter. Hope, do you remember Mrs. Young?"

"It's good to see you again," Mrs. Carson said, although even Zeth could see that only the formal good manners drilled into every child of Fort Freedom allowed her to speak politely to a roomful of Simes.

The Simes were equally polite. "You don't want a crowd, with your child in changeover," said Mrs. Young. "When it's over you'll feel like company. Margid, come help prepare the feast. You're our best cook, and it will keep your mind off—"

Quickly, Mrs. Young guided Mrs. Veritt out. The word would spread now, and no one would come near until the channel and his Companion were here to shield Mrs. Carson.

The Gen woman watched them go, muttering blankly, "What feast?"

"The changeover celebration for Marji," Zeth explained with the awkwardness of a child who knew more than an adult about a situation. "Every time a new Sime starts right off on channel's transfer, the family celebrates."

"I don't believe it," Mrs. Carson whispered. "I brought Marji here because at home she'd have been murdered or would have killed one of us. Here . . . can it have changed so much?" She looked around. "It all, looks the same."

"Uh . . . you want some tea?" Zeth offered.

Mrs. Carson smiled through her tears. "Trin tea," she said. "The universal remedy. Now I know I've really come home again."

The Gen woman looked around the kitchen-. "My mother's kitchen. But now she doesn't dare come near me."

"You'll learn to control your field," said Zeth. "Then you can be around Simes anytime." He put water on, and reached for the container marked "Tea," only to find it empty.

Mrs. Carson said, "Mother was always afraid we kids would break it. The tea is in the wooden box.

Not wanting to be the child who broke the delicate china tea container, Zeth set it carefully back on the shelf and finished making tea. Mrs. Carson sipped hers, studying him. "Zeth Farris. I don't remember any Farrises."

"My dad's a channel. He's the one who first discovered how to channel."

"What exactly is a channel?" she asked.

"A Sime who can take selyn from Gens without hurting them, and then give it to other Simes so they can live without killing. Your brother Jord is a channel." And Zeth found himself drawn into giving a detailed explanation of life at Fort Freedom, fumbling for definitions of new Simelan words like Companions, those special Gens capable of giving transfer to channels.

At length, Mrs. Carson put down her empty tea glass to go to the window. "It's all the same," she said, "and yet it's so different." She paced to the table and back to the window, plucking nervously at the curtain. "What's taking so long? Shouldn't that . . . channel ... be here by now?"

"Changeover takes a long time," said Zeth. "When Marji went into stage four, that's about halfway."

She whirled from the window, wide-eyed. "But it's been—"

Just then the quiet was shattered by a piercing scream.

"Marji!" gasped Mrs. Carson, and ran for the insulated room.

Abel Veritt met them at the door, the terrified screams continuing behind him, "Hope—Marji doesn't know me," he said. "She came fully awake for the first time to find herself alone with a Sime."

"Let me—"

"You must not touch her.-Stay by the door and talk to her."

Motherhood clearly had the best of fear in Mrs. Carson as she said impatiently, "All right—let me see her!"

Zeth followed them. Marji was sitting up, plastered against the wall as if to go through it. Her pretty face was distorted with panic—but the moment she saw her mother she stopped screaming.

"Marji, it's all right," said Mrs. Carson. "This is your grandfather. We're in Fort Freedom, Marji."

The girl began to sob. "Mama, I hurt! I'm so scared!"

"You'll be all right," said her mother, starting toward her.

Mr. Veritt stopped her. "No, Hope. Stay behind me."

"Mama!" cried Marji again, reaching out. She caught sight of her own forearms, the tentacle sheaths showing as blistered lines from the wrists almost to the elbows. She shook her arms disgustedly, as if the sheaths could be cast off, then grasped her left arm with her right hand, scraping viciously. She screamed again in pain, and Veritt gasped, taking a step back before regaining control.

"No, Marji!" he said sharply. "You mustn't hurt yourself."

"No! No! No!" cried the girl, lost in her own panic.

Mr. Veritt grasped his daughter's hand and placed it in Zeth's. "Keep her here!" he told the boy, and strode across the room to sit on the edge of the bed, saying, "There's nothing to be afraid of."