Ecce and Old Earth

'Once there was a boy named Rodney who had learned a bad habit: he scribbled in picture books. One day he drew some foolish black lines across the face of a fine sabretooth tiger. This was a serious mistake, since a fairy owned the book. She said: “That was a naughty trick, Rodney, and now you shall have the teeth of the poor tiger whom you made so ugly.”

'Instantly two long heavy teeth grew from Rodney's mouth, so long that when he lowered his head the points rested on his chest. Rodney's father and mother were very annoyed, but the dentist said that the teeth were healthy and there were no cavities, and that probably they need not worry about braces. The main thing was for Rodney to brush the teeth well, and to wipe them with a napkin while he was eating.'

Lydia put the book down. 'That is enough for now.'

“And very interesting too,' said Wayness. 'Rodney will probably not make the same mistake again.'

Lydia nodded and returned to the pages of the picture book.

Olivano spoke to Wayness. “I am astonished. What have you done?'

“Nothing. It is already there. I gave it a chance to happen, and meanwhile I hugged them and kissed them, which they seem to like.'

“Yes, of course, “said Olivano. “Who wouldn’t?'

They might have known how to read before. Myron, have you been reading for a long time and keeping it secret?”

Myron had been drawing on a sheet of paper. He looked up at Wayness from the corner of his eyes, then returned to his drawing.

“If you don’t care to talk, you can write something on this piece of nice green paper.' Wayness put the paper in front of him.

Again Myron squinted up from the side of his face. When he saw that Wayness was smiling at him, he took up his pencil and wrote: “We have never read before. It is easier than chess. But there are many words I do not know.”

“We will repair that lack, perhaps even today. Now show Dr. Olivano how well you can draw.'

Without enthusiasm Myron began to draw, using his pencils. Then he took up his color flow-pens and brushed here and there. On the paper appeared a great stag with spreading antlers. He stood looking from a landscape similar to the depiction in the book, but quite different in detail. If anything, the drawing was more precise and the colors more striking than those in the book.

“That is absolutely enchanting,” said Olivano. “Myron, I salute you.”

'I can draw too,” said Lydia.

“Of course you can,” said Wayness. “You are also a wonderful little creature.”

Wayness, glancing toward the house, saw Irena watching from the window. “We are being observed,' she told Olivano.

“So I noticed. We must bring these matters to her attention.”

Lydia’s shoulders sagged. “I don’t want arty medicine.'

Olivano asked: 'What medicine?”

Lydia looked off toward the loom of the mountains'

“Sometimes when the wind blows I want to run, and then they give us medicine, so that everything is dark and we are tired.'

Olivano said: “I will see that they give you no more medicine. But you must not run when the wind blows.'

“Clouds ride on the wind, and birds fly sidewise. Weeds roll and tumble and bump down the pampas.”

“Lydia thinks she must join the clouds and birds and weeds,' said Wayness.

Lydia found the idea amusing. “No! Marin; you are foolish!'

“Then why do you run?'

Lydia’s words came slowly. 'First there is the wind, and I know things are starting. Then I begin to hear far voices. They are calling to me. They say,” Lydia made her voice low and husky, “‘Weerooo! Weerooo! Are you there? Weerooo!’ They are calling to me, from in back of the mountains, and I start to feel strange, and then I’m out into the dark.'

Wayness asked: 'Do you know who is calling?'

“It might be the old men with the yellow eyes,' said Lydia dubiously.

“Does Myron hear the voices?'

'Myron becomes angry.”

“Running through the night is a bad habit, and you must change,' said Olivano. “When the night is dark and the wind blows strong and cold, you will surely get lost and fall down among the rocks and the thorns and die. Then there will be no more Lydia, and the people who love you will be sad.'

“I will be sad too,' said Lydia.

'That is exactly correct. So, you will stop running?'

Lydia became anxious. “They will still call me!'

Wayness said: “I do not go running every time someone calls to me.'

“That is proper conduct,' said Olivano. “You must act the same way.'

Lydia nodded slowly, as if agreeing to take the matter under consideration.

Olivano turned to Wayness: “It's time for our conference with Irena. Today we have some serious matters to discuss.”

“In regard to the hair?'

Olivano nodded. “I may be forced to make some harsh decisions before too long. They never come easy.”

Wayness became apprehensive. 'What sort of decisions?'

“I’m not sure yet. I'm waiting for some test reports.” He led the way to the front door, where Irena silently admitted them into the house.

Dr. Olivano put on his best professional manner. “I’m happy to confirm that the virus is no longer a threat; there have been no new cases.”

Irena acknowledged the news with a curt nod. 'I am quite busy today, and if that is all — “

“Not quite. In fact there are several matters which we must discuss. Shall we sit?'

Irena wordlessly turned away and went into the sitting room. Olivano and Wayness followed, and seated themselves gingerly on the couch. Irena remained standing. Olivano spoke, choosing his words carefully. “In regard to the children, I can only call their progress phenomenal. It is hard to assign credit, but clearly the children like Marin, and respond to her, and she has been able to break down their isolation.'

Irena said crisply: “That, of course, may be beneficial, but I have been warned that they are of a manic disposition and should not be over-stimulated.'

“That is incorrect,' said Olivano coldly. “Lydia and Myron are highly intelligent individuals desperately anxious to become normal. I understood none of this until Marin provided some insights. Then the problems started to show themselves.”

Irena darted a glittering black glance toward Wayness. “There were no problems whatever. They lived quietly and happily until Marin appeared on the scene. Since then, their conduct has become erratic, even peculiar.'

''That is true,' said Olivano. “They are commencing to demonstrate extraordinary abilities, far beyond what is considered ‘normal.' In a few years these abilities will become less dramatic, or even disappear, which is the usual sequence of events. But for now, the improvement in their personalities is so notable that we must do our best to maintain the momentum; don’t you agree?'

'Yes, of course, but with certain reservations.'

Olivano dismissed Irena’s ‘reservations' with a gesture. “Last week I took away some hair samples. They have provided information which, frankly, I find almost incredible. Let me ask you this: have you been dosing the children with medicines or tonics of any kind?”

Irena’s eyes narrowed. She delayed several seconds before responding. “Not recently.' She attempted a light tone. 'Where did you get that idea? Surely not from the hair?'

Olivano nodded soberly. 'The hair of both children show striations recurring at weekly intervals. The striations yield no identifiable compounds, which indicates that the medicine is a complex organic substance, or mixture of substances, too dilute to leave a signature other than the fact that they were administered. So now, I will ask you