valley, but it is higher. Meklah trees grow only sparsely there. They keep low to the ground and bear little fruit.”
“But we can use the leaves,” said Jules, “and the new roots.”
“You can. But to put yourselves beyond the reach of the Garkohn, you must go as far north as you can before you settle. The farther north you go, the less meklah there is. The country is good. There is game and other safer edible plants, and perhaps your own crops will grow. Only the meklah is missing.”
“And without it, we’ll die. I don’t think we can afford to go as far north as you believe we should, Tehkohn Hao.”
“Your daughter lived for two years without the meklah.”
“While how many others of my people died?”
“All those that the Garkohn could influence.”
“What?”
Diut turned toward Alanna. “Tell him.”
Alanna had deliberately said almost nothing. Knowing, as she did, that Diut would not hurt Jules, she had kept safely silent. She had depended on Jules’s reasonableness to win him over when he understood the threat. But now Diut wanted her co-operation and she had to give it—however carefully. She spoke to Jules in her unpracticed Garkohn so that Jules would expect Diut to understand her.
“The Garkohn prepared us all to die,” she said bitterly. “When we arrived at the Tehkohn dwelling two years ago, we were all, Garkohn and Missionary, shut in one large room together without meklah. We were given food and water, and we were left alone. At once, the least blue of the Garkohn asked to die. We Missionaries were told that it was their right to demand a quick, relatively painless death at the hands of those bluer than themselves.
“We watched while they were killed, their necks broken. Then the surviving Garkohn told us how we were to die—what being deprived of the meklah would do to us. After watching so many Garkohn die voluntarily, we believed them. At least, we believed that was how they were going to die. We hoped we were different enough physically to survive. As it happened, though, two of us were the first to go into convulsions. Those two got worse and more of us sickened. In a matter of hours, everybody but me was certain that the Garkohn were right. They all sat around waiting to die. Eventually, they died.”
“And you lived,” said Jules. “Why?”
“I think… because I wanted to.” She had known it would sound foolish. Abruptly, she switched to English. “The others were ready to die, Jules. They were convinced that they were in the hands of animals who would murder them. They were completely cut off from the settlement, and they knew they wouldn’t be able to find their way back to it without Garkohn help. And the Garkohn were lying around waiting to die.”
“What were you doing?”
Alanna switched back to Garkohn. “I was looking for a door.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Diut whiten slightly with amusement. She explained to Jules.
“The few doors that exist in the Tehkohn dwelling are concealed. This door was so well concealed that the room seemed to be just a rough-hewn bubble in solid stone. I could not even see where the fresh air was coming from. I tried to remember which way the Tehkohn had gone when they left, but the room was circular and empty except for us. The wall looked the same all the way around—rough stone. So I went around the room again and again, feeling the wall, looking at it. But by the time I found the door and got it open…”
“Wasn’t it fastened shut somehow?”
“No. Only hidden. By the time I got it open, I was too sick to do anything but fall through it.”
“What had you intended to do?”
“Get out of the dwelling if I could. Kill some Tehkohn before I died if I couldn’t.”
Jules threw a startled glance at Diut but Diut continued to show white amusement—and perhaps admiration. Alanna knew that she had first attracted his attention simply by surviving withdrawal. She went on.
“A couple of Tehkohn found me lying half in and half out of the doorway. They threw me back in and shut the door. I tried to memorize their faces so I could kill them later. In my mind, I was in the wilds again, Jules. Things were very simple. I would live so that I could kill those two Tehkohn—at least those two.”
“But, of course, you didn’t…?”
“No.” They had become her best friends, in fact. “But I lived.”
“Most of my people also live through the wanting,” said Diut. “Of those whom the Garkohn addict, many escape. If they can get back to the mountains, back to their families, back to where they have a reason to live, most live. The ones who die are usually those who have been tortured, or those who have been forced to do things they cannot live with.”
“I suspect that that may already have happened to most of my abducted people even without withdrawal,” said Jules.
“Do you mean that you think they’re dead?”
“Yes.”
Diut yellowed apologetically. “From what I have heard, Verrick, they are all alive. They have submitted.”
Jules glared at Diut, then shook his head. “You were saying…” He had to stop and start again. “You were saying that we could survive withdrawal if we were prepared for it. If we wanted… to live badly enough.”
“Most of you should survive.”
“Should.”
“Unless you want to stay within easy range of the Garkohn and have them come after you someday to kill you or bring you back, you have no choice. You must begin withdrawing your people. Let the strong try—the healthy
