He turned back to the congregation. "If there's anyone here who in good conscience cannot pray with me, I ask you to leave. If you all leave, then I shall leave Fort Freedom. For I have sworn a vow that no matter how I may suffer, and no matter if it takes me the rest of my life, as God is my witness, I will not die a killer!"

There was a silence in the chapel. Then, at the back, a rustling as Sara Fenell stood. "Drust believed in this new vision of yours," she said, "and because he believed, he's dead. I can't accept that his death was God's will—it was a punishment to him and to me, for turning against God's Law. Now you'd have us believe it's not a curse to be Sime? If Vee were here, she'd tell you what a curse it is!" With tears threatening to choke her voice, she said loudly, "I believe in the old ways, the true ways. Until you return to them and cast these demons out of our midst, I can no longer follow you."

Alone, head high, she walked toward the door. Dan Whelan, the blacksmith, rose, and with him a pale woman and a boy of about ten. As they followed Sara out, others got up and left—perhaps twenty people in all. The chapel door closed behind them, the heavy sound echoing in the silence.

Rimon looked back to Abel Veritt. He was staring at the door, in stricken disbelief. Then Jord came up beside him, putting an arm about his father's shoulders. "All cannot accept the truth immediately," he said. Then, to the congregation, he said, "There will always be those who doubt. We must not condemn them. Once they see us fulfill our vows, they'll return."

Veritt straightened. "That is true. My son is right. We must pray even more for those who have left us tonight, for they have rejected the chance to be among the first to learn to live together, Sime and Gen. Come, then, let us pray for God's blessing upon us all."

Am I going to be responsible for destroying Fort Freedom, too? Rimon wondered. Where will it end?

After the scene in the chapel, the atmosphere in Fort Freedom was strained. The feast was held, as planned, but the absence of six families in so small a community was strongly felt. Even Willa, who enjoyed anything resembling a party, was subdued. Those who had walked out remained behind closed doors all day, with curtains drawn.

After the feast, Rimon and Kadi began preparations to return home. The temperature was dropping sharply, and even the well-built house they were staying in had only a small circle of warmth near the fire.

Del and Carlana spent the evening with them, and as frost formed on the windows, Del said, "That does it. You're coming home with us until the cold spell is over."

"Yes," agreed Carlana. "The cold this time of year is vicious."

"We've got a good house—" Rimon said.

"Sure," said Del, "hut with the fire out, your walls will be cold. Besides, we can use three extra warm bodies at our place for a couple of days."

"People will gather in the tightest-built houses here in Fort Freedom," Carlana added. "Really—body heat makes a difference in this kind of weather."

Rimon knew his friends were avoiding mentioning the fact that their home was better built than his—especially that they had a wooden floor raised off the ground. Kadi and Willa would feel the cold more than the Simes—and, mostly for Kadi's sake, he agreed.

In the few months they'd been here, Del had expanded the simple cabin Rimon and Kadi had helped build into a three-room home with a loft where the children slept. The blue curtains Kadi had made still hung at the windows of the main room, but Carlana had added a couch with a yellow cover with two pillows of the same blue, and a braided rug on the floor of neutral browns and beiges with just a touch of blue and yellow.

There were double panes of glass in the windows—a real extravagance, but they kept out the cold. Another luxury was the stove. Not only did it heat the main room efficiently, but Carlana could cook on it more easily than over the open fire as Kadi had to do.

Rimon thought of his small store of cash, and the fact that the tax collector would turn up any day now—and this quarter he owed on both Kadi and Willa. No, he couldn't see how he could afford to buy even a stove, although, with two Gens to feed, and a baby on the way—it was a necessity.

The sense of challenge he'd felt last summer was gone. Then, roughing it in the warm weather, making it on his own where no one knew he was his father's son, had seemed exhilarating. The lack of ready money had seemed a minor inconvenience. But now, he looked at Kadi marveling at Carlana's stove, and the knowledge went through him. If he didn't have the money to provide for her, she could die from the cold.

The irony of it. The one thing Rimon knew was Gen-dealing. In nine months, he had claimed only two Gens. He could claim six more—but he could no longer sell a Gen like an animal, and if he kept them, he'd have to pay tax on them.

He reached turnover the second day at Del's, and both Del and Carlana began to treat him as if he were in hard need, never ever getting between him and Kadi.

Willa left her play with the children and attached herself to Rimon's side, his shadow, as Kadi spent most of her time with Carlana, or preparing meals.

The cold snap continued for four days. Only Rimon and Del went out at all, and then only to see that the animals were all right, hurrying back inside as soon as they could. The fourth evening, Del told Rimon, "Ana's using a lot of selyn—too much, too fast. And there's no telling what the weather will do next. Rimon—I've got to go to Slina's tomorrow—"

"Of course," said Rimon. "I'll help you, Del. If we each take a Gen on a horse, we'll be a lot warmer and faster than with a wagon."

Del studied him. "Thanks, Rimon. I hope the weather breaks before we need them, but—"

"But you can't take chances with your life, or Carlana's. I understand. Kadi understands. Willa is the only one who doesn't understand the kill, Del. If you or Carlana must kill before we leave, let's try to keep her from knowing about it."

Del nodded. "The children have never seen it, either. They'll grow up soon enough and have to learn, but for now—Rimon—how long can you shelter Willa?"

"Until she's had many transfers—so that if she does see a kill, she won't associate it with what she does for me."

Slina's Gens were the usual nonentities. Although Rimon held himself deliberately in check, he found they didn't even tempt him. Partly, he knew, it was the drug, but partly it was that they didn't seem to have what he wanted.

They took the Gens in through the back door to the small storeroom that shared a wall with the well-heated main room. When they emerged into the main room, though, Willa was at the side door, trying to see what they had brought. .

"No, Willa," Rimon said firmly, closing the door,

Willa made a questioning noise, and pointed to the door. Owen and Jana left their toys to find out what was going on.

"No, Willa," Rimon repeated.

This time the sound she made had a demanding tone, and her nager said she was determined to satisfy her curiosity. He would have to distract her.

"Come on," he said, "let's play with the children. You're going to miss them when we go home, aren't you? But Kadi and I will soon have a baby for you to play with. You'll like that, won't you?"

He wondered how much Willa understood as she studied him, listening intently. When Rimon turned Willa and guided her back toward where the children had been playing, Jana scampered to her toys, picked up a doll, and said, "Willa, play baby!"

Rimon went to look at Carlana, who was asleep on the couch. Her field was still dropping too rapidly. Tomorrow she'd have to kill. "Kadi, I think we'd better leave tomorrow morning."