“Yes,” said Meris, her hand softly on Lala’s shoulder.
“When are you leaving, Johannan?”
“I must first find the Group,” said Johannan. “So, if Lala could stay-” Meris’s hands betrayed her. “For a little while longer,” he emphasized. “It would help.”
“Of course,” said Meris. “Not ours to keep.”
“The boys,” said Johannan suddenly. “Those in the ear. There was a most unhealthy atmosphere. It was an accident, of course. I tried to lift out of the way, but I was taken unawares. But there was little concern-“
“There will be,” said Mark grimly. “Their hearing is Friday.”
“There was one,” said Johannan slowly, “who felt pain and compassion-“
“Tad,” said Meris. “He doesn’t really belong-“
“But he associated-“
“Yes,” said Mark, “consent by silence.”
The narrow, pine-lined road swept behind the car, the sunlight flicking across the hood like pale, liquid pickets. Lala bounced on Meris’s lap, making excited, unintelligible remarks about the method of transportation and the scenery going by the windows. Johannan sat in the back seat being silently absorbed in his new world. The trip to town was a three-fold expedition-to attend the hearing for the boys involved in the accident-to start Johannan on his search for the Group, and to celebrate the completion of Mark’s manuscript.
They had left it blockily beautiful on the desk, awaiting the triumphant moment when it would be wrapped and sent on its way and when Mark would suddenly have large quantifies of uncommitted time on his hands for the first time in years.
“What is it?” Johannan had asked.
“His book,” said Meris. “A reference textbook for one of those frightening new fields that are in the process of developing. I can’t even remember its name, let alone understand what it’s about.”
Mark laughed. “I’ve explained a dozen times. I don’t think she wants to remember. The book’s to be used by a number of universities for their textbook in the field if, if it can be ready for next year’s classes. If it can’t be available in time, another one will be used and all the concentration of years.—” He was picking up Johannan’s gesture.
“So complicated-” said Meris.
“Oh yes,” said Johannan. “Earth’s in the complication stage.”
“Complication stage?” asked Meris.
“Yes,” said Johannan. “See that tree out there? Simplicity says-a tree. Then wonder sets in and you begin to analyze it-cells growth, structure, leaves, photosynthesis, roots, bark, rings-on and on until the tree is a mass of complications. Then, finally, with reservations not quite to be removed, you can put it back together again and sigh in simplicity once more-a tree. You’re in the complication period in the world now.”
“Is true!” laughed Mark. “Is true!”
“Just put the world back together again, someday,” said Meris, soberly.
“Amen,” said the two men.
But now the book was at the cabin and they were in town for a day that was remarkable for its widely scattered, completely unorganized, confusion. It started off with Lala, in spite of her father’s warning words, leaving the car through the open window, headlong, without waiting for the door to be opened. A half a block of pedestrians-five to be exact-rushed to congregate in expectation of blood and death, to be angered in their relief by Lala’s laughter, which lit her eyes and bounced her dark curls. Johannan snatched her back into the car-forgetting to take hold of her in the process-and un-Englished at her severely, his brief gestures making clear what would happen to her if she disobeyed again.
The hearing for the boys crinkled Meris’s shoulders unpleasantly. Rick appeared with the minors in the course of the questioning and glanced at Mark the whole time, his eyes flicking hatefully back and forth across Mark’s face. The gathered parents were an unhappy, uncomfortable bunch, each overreacting according to his own personal pattern and the boys either echoing or contradicting the reactions of their own parents. Meris wished herself out of the whole unhappy mess.
Midway in the proceedings, the door was flung open and Johannan, who had left with a wiggly Lala as soon as his small part was over, gestured at Mark and Meris and un-Englished at them across the whole room. The two left, practically running, under the astonished eyes of the judge and, leaning against the securely closed outside door, looked at Johanann. After he understood their agitation and had apologized in the best way he could pluck from their thoughts, he said, “I had a thought.” He shifted Lala, squirming, to his other arm. “The-the doctor who came to look at my head-he-he-” He gulped and started again. “All the doctors have ties to each other, don’t they?”
“Why I guess so,” said Meris, rescuing Lala and untangling her brief skirts from under her armpits. “There’s a medical society-“
“That is too big,” said Johannan after a hesitation. “I mean, Dr.-Dr.-Hilf would know other doctors in this part of the country?” His voice was a question.
“Sure he would,” said Mark. “He’s been around here since Territorial days. He knows everyone and his dog- including a lot of the summer people.”
“Well,” said Johannan, “there is a doctor who knows my People. At least there was. Surely he must still be alive. He knows the Canyon. He could tell me.”
“Was he from around here?” asked Mark.
“I’m not sure where here is,” Johannan reminded, “but a hundred miles or so one way or the other.”
“A hundred miles isn’t much out here,” confirmed Meris. “Lots of times you have to drive that far to get anywhere.”
“What was the doctor’s name?” asked Mark, snatching for Lala as she shot up out of Meris’s arms in pursuit of
