When the news of Kadi's pregnancy spread, the little sod house was inundated with gifts—mostly from the people of Fort Freedom, but a few. from people in town. When Rimon protested, he was informed that everyone would be insulted if he refused the offerings. Milk and cheese arrived daily, along with warm blankets and winter clothing. One day Abel Veritt, Del Erick, and others helped Rimon build a cistern atop the hill, to catch rain and melting snow. They wouldn't have to carry water up the hill anymore.

Drust Fenell, expert at woodworking despite his youth, made Kadi a rocking chair. He had still not established– and now he was determined he was going to change over. Rimon was conducting classes in changeover training at Fort Freedom which, when they became known in town, softened the contempt toward the Fort people. It had been out of ignorance, not callousness, that they had let their children die in changeover.

But Rimon knew that if it hadn't been for Drust's infectious enthusiasm he wouldn't have had much success. The attitude of Fort Freedom's children was, "I won't require that training; I'm going to be Gen. My parents are good people."

But Drust was there at every meeting, as was Vee Lassiter, who wanted to learn how to teach others. She had emerged from her ritual seclusion wholly resigned to her fate. At first Rimon was puzzled at her swift reversal of attitude, but he soon found that her new calm was only on the surface. With the twisted theology of Fort Freedom, she just might suffer terrible guilt if by some fluke Drust should change over, feeling that he had cursed himself for love of her. On the other hand, should Drust establish, she'd lose him—and Rimon was sure she would be even more, devastated by that. Either way, what kind of a teacher could she be?

When Rimon hesitantly discussed the problem with Abel Veritt, the older man replied, "It's in God's hands—but He may be working through you, Rimon. I can't imagine what is holding up Drust's establishment otherwise—the boy has looked Gen for almost a year."

"Drust isn't the problem, Vee is," said Rimon. "No matter what happens to Drust, she'll be destroyed by it. What can we do?"

"You are closer to God than I. You should know."

"I don't share your theology. I haven't yet caught onto the trick of reasoning inside it. But I do think you've misjudged my place in the world."

Veritt sighed, as if shouldering a tremendous burden. "Drust and Vee are in love. I'm sure you can understand that. You and Kadi shared the same kind of young love. Their situation is no different than yours was—only they have you to guide them. Or they will have, after this month, when you've tried out your method on another Gen and know how you do what you do. Then you can teach us– through Vee and Drust."

"Abel! You haven't put that idea into the boy's head– have you?"

"No! But I think you'll find he has already thought of it for himself. One scarcely has to be a prophet to see it."

Rimon let out a long breath, surprised that he was shaking.

"It's a terrible responsibility God has placed on you, Rimon. I don't envy your place. But my job is not easy, either. I've had to speak to Drust and will again, to remind him that at the first sign of establishment, he will be escorted to the border with our love. And I will enforce our law, if I must. But while I was speaking, in my heart I was praying that even if he were to leave tomorrow, within the month we could call him back. Rimon, I dream of the day when we send our next established child into Gen Territory, not to exile, but to bring our other children home!"

Rimon had to seize the older man by the shoulders and zlin him deeply to offend him into sensibility. "What if I can't do it? What if I kill again? Abel—it's" bad enough if I kill a Gen this month. Must I be set up so that I kill your dream, too?"

"My dream?" asked Veritt mildly. "Isn't it yours, too?"

If they shared a dream, Veritt also insisted that they share the attempts to achieve it. He would not hear of Kadi accompanying Rimon to Slina's the next day, but came along himself. "You won't kill," he insisted, "and if you will allow me to zlin your transfer, perhaps I can learn how you do it."

What they both learned, though, was that Rimon was fixed on Kadi. He could not work up an interest in the Gen Slina gave him, even though he was in hard need and the boy was undrugged. Riding with the Gen before him on the way out toward the homestead, Rimon felt nothing but pity for the boy, who snuggled against him for warmth in the cold of early winter.

When Veritt reined in at a camping place along the road, Rimon pulled up, vaguely, wondering why the older man was stopping. Veritt got off his horse, saying, "No one else will stop here this time of day. Come on, son."

Unquestioning, Rimon dismounted, then lifted the boy down and walked him over to the ring of stones laid out as a fireplace. Veritt sat down carefully on the other side of the ring, and zlinned them. "I thought surely you'd fix on the Gen by now. It's still Kadi you want, isn't it?" At Rimon's helpless nod, he said, "Then you shouldn't be anywhere near her, or your desire for her could interfere with this transfer."

"Say it—I'll kill her, too!" Rimon flared.

"Easy," whispered Veritt. "That fear is all the more reason to do it here and now. Face the fear and end it."

"Yes," Rimon agreed listlessly. He faced the Gen. His body needed the boy's selyn, but he felt no real compulsion to attack. Taking the boy's hands, he looked into the empty eyes. When Rimon extended his handling tentacles, the boy looked down at the movement, and watched without fear.

Rimon slid his hands up the Gen's arms, settling his handling tentacles in transfer position. He let his laterals find the Gen skin, and slid effortlessly into hyperconsciousness, smoothly seeking the fifth contact point, still with no driving urge to kill. What would happen now? Would he simply hold contact, no selyn flowing?

But no, Rimon was low-field even compared to the dull Gen. Selyn began to flow into him. He let it come, neither satisfying nor enticing, warming a part of him.

It wasn't enough—Some subtle shift awakened true need, intil soaring, and he began to draw selyn. No pain, no fear—and no satisfaction. Craving the ecstatic pleasure he found with Kadi, Rimon increased his speed. The boy's nerves screamed with raw pain and Rimon basked in it until– No! No! I won't!

And suddenly it was as if he were healing someone. The shrieking drive to killbliss left him. Need was still there, but he was distant from it. By an act of will, he slowed his draw to a trickle. The boy's pain diminished. Rimon cut off the flow in that moment, severing his contact with the Gen in ripping agony.

Stomach heaving, he found himself hypoconscious, the limp Gen body on the ground before him.

I killed. I killed again. Oh, Kadi! Oh, no!

Off to one side, Veritt moved, disturbing the hairtrigger balance of the nager, and suddenly a burning pain spread in waves from some central point in Rimon's chest.

That was the last he knew as pain overtook him. "Kadi!"

"I'm here. It's all right, Rimon. You're all right."

Kadi was bending over him, her hands on his arms. He opened his eyes, and she was still there—trees—stones– it's real.

She pressed her lips to his, giving him the presence of her steady field to guide him in fighting the turmoil of his selyn system. There was a quiver of need within him at her touch, quickly silenced in the thick warm blanket of her nager.

Kadi and Abel Veritt put blankets over and under him. "Rest awhile," said Kadi. "Then we'll take you home."

"Kadi… I killed." Wretchedly, he forced out the confession, unable to look at her face.