building a long main hall and ten sleeping-cubicles, said nothing, but looked depressed and edgy. Osden, as always, even now, had them all at his mercy. Tomiko looked down at him with a rush of hatred that burned in her throat like bile. This monstrous egotism that fed itself on others' emotions, this absolute selfishness, was worse than any hideous deformity of the flesh. Like a congenital monster, he should not have lived. Should not be alive. Should have died. Why had his head not been split open?
As he lay flat and white, his hands helpless at his sides, his colorless eyes were wide open, and there were tears running from the comers. He tried to flinch away. "Don't," he said in a weak hoarse voice, and tried to raise his hands to protect his head. "Don't!"
She sat down on the folding-stool beside the cot, and after a while put her hand on his. He tried to pull away, but lacked the strength.
A long silence fell between them.
"Osden," she murmured, "I'm sorry. I'm very sorry. I will you well. Let me will you well, Osden. I don't want to hurt
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you. Listen, I do see now. It was one of us. That's right, isn't it No, don't answer, only tell me if I'm wrong; but I'm not... Of course there are animals on this planet Ten of them. I don't care who it was. It doesn't matter, does it. It could have been me, just now. I realize that I didn't understand how it is, Osden. You can't see how difficult it is for us to understand ... But listen. If it were love, instead of hate and fear... It is never love?"
"No."
"Why not? Why should it never be? Are human beings all so weak? That is terrible. Never mind, never mind, don't worry. Keep still. At least right now it isn't hate, is it? Sympathy at least, concern, well- wishing, you do feel that, Osden? Is it what you feel?"
"Among... other things," he said, almost inaudibly.
"Noise from my subconscious, I suppose. And everybody else in the room... Listen, when we found you there in the forest, when I tried to turn you over, you partly wakened, and I felt a horror of you. I was insane with fear for a minute. Was that your fear of me I felt?"
"No."
Her hand was still on his, and he was quite relaxed, sinking towards sleep, like a man in pain who has been given relief from pain. "The forest," he muttered; she could barely understand him. "Afraid."
She pressed him no further, but kept her hand on his and watched him go to sleep. She knew what she felt, and what therefore he must feel. She was confident of it there is only one emotion, or state of being that can thus wholly reverse itself, polarize, within one moment In Great Hainish indeed there is one word, onto, for love and for hate. She was not in love with Osden, of course, that was another kettle of fish.
What she felt for him was onto, polarized hate. She held his hand and the current flowed between them, the tremendous electricity of touch, which he had always dreaded. As
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he slept the ring of anatomy-chart muscles around his mouth relaxed, and Tomiko saw on his face what none of them had ever seen, very faint, a smile. It faded. He slept on.
He was tough; next day he was sitting up, and hungry. Harfex wished to interrogate him, but Tomiko put him off. | She hung a sheet of polythene over the cubicle door, as | Osden himself had often done. "Does it actually cut down | your empathic reception?" she asked, and he replied, in the dry, cautious tone they were now using to each other, "No."
"Just a warning then."
"Partly. More faith-healing Dr. Hammergeld thought it worked . . .
Maybe it does, a little."
There had been love, once. A terrified child, suffocating in the tidal rush and battering of the huge-emotions of adults, a ? drowning child, saved by one man. Taught to breathe, to live, by one man. Given everything, all protection and love, by one man. Father/Mother/God: no other. "Is he still alive?" Tomiko asked, thinking of Osden's incredible loneliness, and the strange cruelty of the great doctors.
She was shocked when she heard his forced, tinny laugh. "He died at least two and a half centuries ago," Osden said. "Do you forget where we are, Coordinator? We've all left our little families behind . . ."
Outside the polythene curtain the eight other human beings on World 4470 moved vaguely. Their voices were low and strained. Eskwana slept; Poswet To was in therapy; Jenny Chong was trying to rig lights in her cubicle so that she wouldn't cast a shadow.
"They're all scared," Tomiko said, scared. "They've all got these ideas about what attacked you. A sort of ape-potato, a giant fanged spinach,
I don't know . . . Even Harfex. You may be right not to force them to see. That would be worse, to lose confidence in one another. But why are we all so shaky, unable to face the fact, going to pieces so easily? Are we really all insane?"
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"Well soon be more so."
"Why?"
"There is something." He closed his mouth, the muscles of his lips
stood out rigid.
"Something sentient?"
"A sentience."
"In the forest?" He nodded.
"What is it, then -- ?"
"The fear." He began to look strained again, and moved restlessly.
"When I fell, there, you know, I didn't lose consciousness at once. Or I kept regaining it I don't know. It was more like being paralyzed."
"You were."
"I was on the ground. I couldn't get up. My face was in the dirt, in that soft leaf mold. It was in my nostrils and eyes. I couldn't move. Couldn't see. As if I was in the ground. Sunk into it part of it I knew I was between two trees even though I never saw them. I suppose I could feel the roots. Below me in the ground, down under the ground. My hands were bloody, I could feel that and the blood made the dirt around my face sticky. I felt the fear. It kept growing As if they'd finally known I was there, lying on them there, under them, among them, the thing they feared, and yet part of their fear itself. I couldn't stop sending the fear back, and it kept growing and I couldn't move, I couldn't get away. I would pass out I think, and then the fear would bring me to again, and I still couldn't move. Any more than they can."
Tomiko felt the cold stirring of her hair, the readying of the apparatus of terror. "They: who are they, Osden?"
"They, it -- I don't know. The fear."
"What is he talking about?" Harfex demanded when Tomiko reported this conversation. She would not let Harfex question Osden yet, feeling that she must protect Osden from the onslaught of the Hainishman's powerful,
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over-repressed emotions. Unfortunately this fueled the slow fire of paranoid anxiety that burned in poor Harfex, and he thought she and Osden were in league, hiding some fact of great importance or peril from the rest of the team.
"It's like the blind man trying to describe the elephant Osden hasn't seen or heard the... the sentience, any more than we have."
"But he's felt it, my dear Haito," Harfex said with just-suppressed rage. "Not empathically. On his skull. It came and knocked him down and beat him with a blunt instrument Did he not catch one glimpse of it?"
"What would he have seen, Harfex?" Tomiko said, but he would not hear her meaningful tone; even
