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Midge left with Futrell and the Marines she rescued from the Coast Guard cutter. She dumped Futrell at Fairhaven, watched him limping away into the forest, and then radioed that she was staying with the Marines. Their Sergeant had heard some story about a gang of mercenaries who had set themselves up as a protection organization somewhere. Sam, who brought the Eagle back from Clarport, assured us that she was going of her own free will—she was in love with the Sergeant. Midge was another not cut out for the quiet life of a Settlement.

Neither was I, but that was what I had to endure. Judith was still hoping for children. I tried to share her enthusiasm and fulfill her need, but in truth I had lost what little urge I might have had to reproduce. I was disgusted with myself and the human race; the past had been wasted and the future mortgaged. The beginning of the Chaos was the time when Benevolent Presentism was abandoned for Factual Futurism. When civilized men used sophisticated weapons to grab women too uncivilized to have been made sterile by Impermease.

The first excitement to enter our placid lives in the three years after we had captured the Pen was a signal from the Teacher himself. He had returned from wherever he had been meditating during the onset of the Chaos to set up shop in an area called the Enclave, a patch of territory controlled by Believers somewhere in Syria. His signal was an invitation for Doctor Judith Grenfell to come and join his entourage.

Of course she accepted. With tears in her eyes she swore that only the Teacher could take her from me. She must go. The amphibian which had started to operate a kind of Inter Settlement Airline would arrive in the Cove some time during August to pick her up.

After all my attempts to dissuade her had failed, I went to see Chuck Yackle. “You’re the local representative of the Light. When we first came here you called the break-up of a marriage a sin against the Light. Remember? So why isn’t this seduction of my wife by your Teacher a sin?”

He fiddled with his stylus and rubbed his bald head. “We had hoped that this wouldn’t break up your marriage. We had hoped you would go with Judith.”

“Me? Go to the Enclave? What the hell could I do there? Anyway, they’d never take me. I’m an unbeliever.”

Yackle shrugged. “They’ll accept you. In fact—” He hesitated. “In fact it’s you the Teacher wants.”

“Me? Your Teacher doesn’t even know I exist.”

“Apparently he does. I had a signal some time back asking if I thought you’d go. I answered that I thought you wouldn’t.”

“You never asked me!”

“I knew your answer, Gavin.” He sighed. “I was right, wasn’t I?”

I admitted he was, but it would have been nice to have been asked.

He sighed again. “We didn’t want to lose you.”

“But you’re prepared to lose Judith. I know there are two other Docs in the Cove now. But they’re quacks compared to her!”

“True! But if the Teacher calls—we must answer.”

“You claimed he was calling me!” Then what he had just said sank in, and it took all my willpower not to reach across the table, grab Chairman Yackle by the throat, and ram his head against the wall.

He eased back his chair, moving out of my reach. “Judith is answering the call. We hope you will follow.”

“What a lousy trick! Wait until I tell Judy!” I started for the door.

“And lacerate her pride? Would you do that to her?”

I stopped and turned. I could see her face collapsed if I claimed that her beloved Teacher was using her as a bait to entice me. Entice me for what? Once again I was being manipulated. Once again I was being maneuvered into the service of some authority I didn’t understand. Proving the truth of what Judy had once called me—a feudal retainer always looking for a Lord to serve.

“Tell her you’re going with her!” urged Yackle. “Follow her the way you followed her when you both came here. Be honest, Gavin! You’re bored with our peaceful life. In the Enclave there’ll be excitement. Probably more than you want!”

“To hell with the Enclave!” But I still stood facing him. “Aren’t you curious to find out why the Teacher should want you?”

Of course I was.

And I did.

Copyright

DAW BOOKS, INC.

Donald A. Woliheim. Publisher

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