"Does this happen every day?"

She frowned. "About three or four times a week now. When it started, it was just once or twice a month. Then it began happening more and more often. Now... it's almost every other day. I expect within a month, it'll be every day. I think-and this is just a guess-but I think that it's some kind of... enrollment phenomenon. Since it started, the herd has been growing much faster than we expected. Something about the phenomenon pulls people into it-as you experienced."

I nodded.

She added, "And I think it also supports the members in staying in the herd. Last year, we had dropouts. We had people actually coming back. They were confused, and they needed a lot of support therapy, but they were conscious again. This year-we haven't had any dropouts. Not since this started."

"Tell me about the dropouts," I said. "How does that happen?"

"Um-usually some kind of shock. We had a young man break his leg. The pain was so bad that he started screaming. And suddenly in the middle of the screaming, he was calling for a doctor. His survival was at stake-he had to do something. None of the herd behavior modes were appropriate, he dredged up something from his memories. Unfortunately, for him, everything attached to that memory came with it. He had to start communicating with us to tell us where it hurt, and so on. So ... he had to be selfaware again."

"So, that's how you can break the herd," I said. "Break all their legs.

Fletcher laughed. "I don't think it's that easy, James. I wish it were. You can shock some of them back to self-awareness, but most of them you can't. They're aware, but they're not self-aware, and they don't want to be self-aware ever again."

"Mm," I said. There was something about that thought that deserved a second look. My mind was already holding it up to the light, turning it over and over, looking for the implications in it and the extrapolations that could be shaken out of it.

I stopped and looked at the herd speculatively. There was something else here-something still beyond my ability to comprehend, let alone communicate. I frowned....

Fletcher followed my gaze. She asked quietly, "Are you thinking about your father? Do you still think he's alive? In the herd?"

Her question brought me back to Earth. I looked at the thought for a long moment. And then I shook my head. "No. I can't imagine my father giving up his power of reason-not for this. It's-easier to imagine him dead." I turned to her. I felt remarkably complete. "I can believe it now. Thank you."

Fletcher touched my cheek. "I know it was a shock, Jim. It's good that you're-" She saw something past my shoulder and her face hardened abruptly.

I turned to see a tall, broad-shouldered man approaching us. He was naked, and he had a chest like a wall. He was muscled like a bull. His skin was sun-darkened and the sweat glistened on his body. He was a stallion. A bull. His eyes were bright-he had a very direct look on his face. He also had a startling erection, impossible to ignore.

"Isn't that your missing scientist-?" I started to ask, but Fletcher pushed me aside quickly.

She stepped forward, baring her teeth at the bull, and growled deep in her throat.

He hesitated. She growled again. The bull began to lose his bullishness.

Fletcher began to punctuate her growls with angry grunts. The bull backed away before her anger. She bared her teeth and shouted, "Na-na-na-na!" The bull turned and retreated hastily.

I looked at her. I started to say, "That's very effective-" but her expression was ashen. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," she said.

"Bullshit," I said. "You're a lousy liar."

She tried to wave me away-but I grabbed her arm. "Hey- you're not fooling anybody."

She yanked her arm free and turned away from me. She put her hands to her eyes and her shoulders shook for a moment. She fumbled for her handkerchief. She turned back to me, wiping at her eyes. "We used to be lovers," she admitted. "I uh-still have trouble seeing him like this. Especially... when he does that. I'm sorry."

I didn't know what to say, so I didn't say anything. I took her hand and led her back to the jeep. We climbed in, but she didn't start the engine. "That's why you're so interested in the herd, aren't you?"

She nodded. "I want to make sure that he's all right. I-owe him that."

"And ... ?" I prompted.

She let her breath out. "And ... I keep hoping that I'll figure it out. The herd. And that... I can have him back again." She rubbed her nose. Her eyes were very red.

"He means a lot to you, doesn't he?"

She nodded. "He was-is-very special. An incredibly gentle man." She looked out across the milling bodies. "Sometimes.. ." she said. She didn't finish the sentence.

I followed her glance.

"It's very tempting," she admitted. "They're at peace. And they have joy." She added, "Perhaps, they're the only ones on the planet who do."

"I wonder. .." I said. "How long will they last when there's no one left to take care of them?" I looked at her. "Their joy is a very dangerous luxury. I don't think we can afford joy any more. At least, not like that."

She didn't answer. She was looking off across the herd. The bull had found a mate for the afternoon. A teenage boy who looked up at him with adoring eyes. Evidently the bull wasn't too picky. I glanced at Fletcher. Her eyes were hard, so I didn't say anything. She started the jeep and we headed back toward Oakland.

She didn't say anything until we were halfway across the bridge. "Do me a favor?" she asked.

"Sure."

"Don't say anything about this to anyone."

"I wasn't even here."

"Thanks." She smiled gratefully.

I said, "Besides, I'd just as soon not have Duke know that I was-affected."

She switched the jeep onto autopilot and pushed the wheel away from her. "He'll never hear it from me."

"Thanks," I said.

She reached over and patted my hand. We'd traded secrets. Everything was okay now.

Fletcher dropped me back at the barracks with a wave and a promise to put me on the permanent pass list for the lab section. I watched her drive off thoughtfully. How many times a week did she cross the bridge into San Francisco?

Well ... maybe it wasn't really my business.

Duke wasn't in, but he'd left a message: go to bed early, we scramble at six.

There was a new briefing book on my bed. I read it over dinner. A spotting mission? For this we were pulled out of Colorado?

It didn't make sense.

I went to bed still feeling troubled.

My night was restless and full of voices. But they didn't tell me anything either.

MORNING CAME too soon.

I put the body on automatic and got out of its way. I caught up with it again in the jeep; the noise woke me up. We were rolling across the cracked and oily tarmac of Oakland International Airport. There was a fully armed Banshee-6 waiting for us at the far end of the runway. Its engines were already screaming.

Duke ran the jeep right up to the foot of the ramp. Holding my ears, I followed him tip the steps at a run. We climbed into the jet-chopper and the door slammed itself shut behind us. The pilot didn't even wait till we were seated; she reached up over her head, released a double-handled lever, and we were rolling. I tossed my bag at the back and scrambled for the seat opposite Duke. The lady punched us up into the air so fast I didn't even have time o finish fastening my safety harness.

She was speaking to her microphone: ". . . Heading three five two. Enterprise, you can launch your birds now. We'll pick 'em up over San Pablo Bay."

I knew that voice. Lizard Tirelli! I should have recognized her by that takeoff. I leaned across to Duke. "Remember when Ted and I left Alpha Bravo?" He nodded. I jerked a thumb forward. "That's the same pilot."