“Do you think you will discover anything?”

“Not necessarily. Certain types of substances are either not absorbed or make no distinct strata. Still, is worth trying.' Olivano turned to look toward the house. Through the window they saw Irena’s shape move back, as if she were reluctant to be discovered.

Olivano said: “It is time for a conference with Irena.”

Wayness asked: “Shall I come?'

“I think your presence would be helpful.”

The two went to the front door and Olivano sounded the chime. After a pause Irena opened the door. 'Yes?'

“May we come in?”

Irena turned and led the way into the sitting room. She remained standing. 'Why were you taking hair from the children?”

Olivano explained the process and its rationale. Irena was clearly not pleased. “Do you think that such a procedure is necessary?”

'I won’t know for certain until I see the results of the analysis.”

“That is not very informative.'

Olivano laughed and gave his head a rueful shake. “If I had definite information, you would be the first to know. Now then, there is another matter, related to general hygiene. You may or may not have heard that the poly-virus XNX-29 was discovered in Pombareales last week. It is not overly dangerous but may be uncomfortable if a person lacks the proper antibodies. I can easily make the determination with a blood sample. If you will permit — ' Olivano brought out a small instrument. “You will feel nothing.' He stepped forward and before Irena could protest or draw back, he had pressed the instrument against her forearm. “Very good,” said Olivano. “I will have results for you tomorrow. In the meantime, don’t worry, as the chances of infection are slight, but it is better to be safe than sorry.'

Irena stood rubbing her arm, eyes glittering black in her wasted face.

Olivano said politely: “I think that is all for now. Marin has her instructions — essentially, more of the same.'

Irena said with a sniff: “She seems to spend a great deal of time playing with the children.'

“That is precisely what they need: they should not be allowed to brood and daydream and recede into their private worlds. They seem to have had something of a setback, but they are coming out of it and I want to make sure that it does not happen again.'

Irena had nothing to say, and Olivano took his leave.

The week passed. On Friday evening Olivano telephoned Wayness at the hotel. “What is the news from Casa Lucasta?'

'Nothing, except that the children are almost back to where they were. Lydia is talking again and Myron gives his indescribable signals. They are both reading: Lydia goes at it casually; Myron seems to read at a glance.'

“Such skill has been recorded before.'

“There is something else, most curious. We went for a walk out on the pampas and Lydia found a pretty white stone. This morning she could not find it; I had packed it into a box of oddments by mistake. Lydia looked everywhere, but could not find her stone. Finally she told Myron: ‘It is my white stone: gone!’ Myron looked around, and went directly to the box and tossed the stone to Lydia. She seemed not at all surprised. I asked her: ‘How did Myron know the stone was in the box?’ She only shrugged and went back to her picture book. Later, when they had gone into the house for their lunch, I hid Myron’s red pencil under the sand in a corner of the sandbox. After lunch they came back into the yard. Myron started to draw but found that his red pencil was missing. He looked around the yard and went directly to the sandbox and found his pen. Then he looked at me with a most peculiar expression; puzzled, amused, wondering if I had lost my mind. I found it hard not to laugh. So, there you have it. Myron, who can do all manner of remarkable deeds, is also clairvoyant.'

Olivano said: “That faculty is mentioned in the literature, guardedly. It is said to maximize at puberty, then dwindle away.' He thought for a few seconds. 'I don’t think I want to involve myself in this matter, and I would prefer that you keep your findings to yourself. We don’t want to make Myron any more of a freak than he is.'

Wayness could not let Olivano’s remarks, no matter how cool and dispassionate — in fact, they were too cool and too dispassionate — go unchallenged. 'Myron is in no sense of the word a freak! Despite all his odd little quirks and funny attempts at dignity, he is gentle and cooperative and really a sweet little boy!”

“Aha! I wonder who has got whom wrapped around their little finger!”

“Yes, I fear so.'

“Then you may be interested to know that, while Myron and Lydia are siblings, Irena is not their mother. They have no congruent genetic material.”

“It is no more than I suspected,” said Wayness. 'What do the hair samples tell you?”

“I have not had the results yet, but I should have them by Wednesday. I don’t know whether or not I deceived her about the virus, but I might as well play out the game and tell her it is no longer a threat. I will also advise her that I went you on hand Sunday, and that the next time the children show any sign of illness, no matter how trivial that I must be called, since I want no recurrence of the previous ailment which set them back psychologically.”

The weekend passed without untoward incident. On Wednesday morning Dr. Olivano arrived at Casa Lucasta as usual. It was another chilly day with wan sunlight seeping through a high overcast and a wind blowing down from the Andes. Despite the weather Wayness with Lydia and Myron were occupied as usual in the side yard. Today Myron and Lydia sat together, studying the pages of a picture book wherein were depicted many sorts of wild animals, both terrestrial and off-world.

“Good morning all!' called Olivano. “What are you doing with yourselves today?'

“We are exploring the universe, from top to bottom,' said Wayness. “We look at pictures, and talk. Lydia sometimes reads from the books and Myron draws pretty pictures when he is in the mood.”

“Myron can do anything, “said Lydia”

“I don’t doubt it an instant,” said Olivano. “You are also very clever.”

'Lydia reads quite well,” said Wayness. She pointed to a picture. “What animal is that, Lydia?”

“It is a lion.'

'How do you know?”

Lydia gave Wayness a puzzled look. “The letters read ‘LION’.'

Wayness took the book, turned the page, covered the picture and asked: “What animal is on this page?”

“I don’t know. The word reads 'TIGER,' but we won’t know really until we see the picture.'

'Quite right” said Wayness. “There might have been a mistake. But not this time! The picture shows a tiger and the letters spell ‘TIGER’. '

Olivano asked: 'What of Myron? Does he read too?”

“Of course he reads — probably better than you do”

Myron, be a good boy and read something.'

Myron cocked his head dubiously to the side, but said nothing.

'In that case, show me an animal that you like.'

It seemed that Myron had ignored the question, then suddenly he turned a few pages and displayed the picture of a stag, with mountains in the background.

“That is a handsome beast indeed,' said Olivano. Wayness put her arm around Myron’s thin shoulders and hugged him. “You are very clever, Myron.”

Myron pulled in the corners of his mouth by way of response.

Lydia looked at the picture. “'That is a 'STAG'.'

'Quite right! What else can you read?”

'Anything I like.'

'Really?'

Lydia opened a book and read:

'Rodney the Bad Boy.'

“Very good,' said Wayness. 'Now read the story.'

Lydia bent her head over the book and read:

Вы читаете Ecce and Old Earth
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