"Very well, Mr. Sensor. I trust no orders will be needed henceforth." Tomiko's bullfrog voice was calm, but Osden seemed to flinch slightly as he stood with his back to her, as if the surge of her suppressed rancor had struck him with physical force.
The biologist's hunch proved correct When they began field analyses they found no animals even among the
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microbiota. Nobody here ate anybody else. All life-forms were photosynthesizing or saprophagous, living offlight or death, not off life. Plants: infinite plants, not one species known to the visitors from the house of Man. Infinite shades and intensities of green, violet, purple, brown, red. Infinite silences. Only the wind moved, swaying leaves and fronds, a warm soughing wind laden with spores and pollens, blowing the sweet pale-green dust over prairies of great grasses, heaths that bore no heather, flowerless forests where no foot had ever walked, no eye had ever looked. A warm, sad world, sad and serene, the Surveyors wandering like picknickers over sunny plains of violet filicaliformes, spoke softly to each other. They knew their voices broke a silence of a thousand million years, the silence of wind and leaves, leaves and wind, blowing and ceasing and blowing again.
They talked softly; but being human, they talked.
"Poor old Osden," said Jenny Chong Bio and Tech, as she piloted a helijet on the North Polar Quadrating run. "All that fancy hi-fi stuff in his brain and nothing to receive. What a bust"
"He told me he hates plants," Olleroo said with a giggle.
"You'd think he'd like them, since they don't bother him like we do."
"Can't say I much like these plants myself," said Porlock, looking down at the purple undulations of the North Cir-cumpolar Forest "All the same. No mind. No change. A man alone in it would go right off his head."
"But it's all alive," Jenny Chong said. "And if it lives, Osden hates it"
"He's not really so bad," Olleroo said, magnanimous.
Porlock looked at her sidelong and asked, "You ever slept with him, Olleroo?" Olleroo burst into tears and cried, "You Terrans are obscene!"
"No she hasn't," Jenny Chong said, prompt to defend. "Have you, Porlock?"
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The chemist laughed uneasily: ha, ha, ha Flecks of spittle appeared on his mustache.
"Osden can't bear to be touched," Olleroo said shakily. "I just brushed against him once by accident and he knocked me off like I was some sort of dirty... thing. We're all just things, to him,"
"He's evil," Porlock said in a strained voice, startling the two women. "Hell end up shattering this team, sabotaging it, one way or another. Mark my words. He's not fit to live with other people!" They landed on the North Pole. A midnight sun smoldered over low hills. Short, dry, greenish-pink bryoform grasses stretched away in every direction, which was all one direction, south. Subdued by the incredible silence, the three Surveyors set up their instruments and set to work, three viruses twitching minutely on the hide of an unmoving giant
Nobody asked Osden along on runs as pilot or photographer or recorder, and he never volunteered, so he seldom left base camp. He ran Harfex's botanical taxonomic data through the onship computers, and served as assistant to Eskwana, whose job here was mainly repair and maintenance. Eskwana had begun to sleep a great deal, twenty-five hours or more out of the thirty-two-hour day, dropping off in the middle of repairing a radio or checking the guidance circuits of a helijet The Coordinator stayed at base one day to observe. No one else was home except Poswet To, who was subject to epileptic fits; Mannon had plugged her into a therapy-circuit today in a state of preventive catatonia. Tomiko spoke reports into the storage banks, and kept an eye on Osden and Eskwana. Two hours passed.
"You might want to use the 860 microwaldoes in sealing that connection," Eskwana said in his soft, hesitant voice.
"Obviously!"
"Sorry. I just saw you had the 840's there -- "
"And will replace them when I take the 8 60's out. When I Vaster Than Empires and More Slow A-103
don't know how to proceed, Engineer, 111 ask your advice."
After a minute Tomiko looked round. Sure enough, there was Eskwana sound asleep, head on the table, thumb in his mouth. "Osden."
The white face did not turn, he did not speak, but conveyed impatiently that he was listening.
'You can't be unaware of Eskwana's vulnerability."
"I am not responsible for his psychopathic reactions."
"But you are responsible for your own. Eskwana is essential to our work here, and you're not If you can't control your hostility, you must avoid him altogether."
Osden put down his tools and stood up. "With pleasure!" he said in his vindictive, scraping voice. "You could not possibly imagine what it's like to experience Eskwana's irrational terrors. To have to share his horrible cowardice, to have to cringe with him at everything!"
"Are you trying to justify your cruelty towards him? I thought you had more self-respect" Tomiko found herself shaking with spite. "If your empathic power really makes you share Ander's misery, why does it never induce the least compassion in you?"
"Compassion," Osden said. "Compassion. What do you know about compassion?"
She stared at him, but he would not look at her.
"Would you like me to verbalize your present emotional affect regarding myself?" he said. "I can do more precisely than you can. I'm trained to analyze such responses as I receive them. And I do receive them."
"But how can you expect me to feel kindly towards you when you behave as you do?"
"What does it matter how I behave, you stupid sow, do you mink it makes any difference? Do you think the average human is a well of lovingkindness? My choice is to be hated or to be despised. Not being a woman or a coward, I prefer to be hated."
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"That's rot Self-pity. Every man has -- "
"But I am not a man," Osden said. "There are all of you. And there is myself. I am one."
Awed by that glimpse of abysmal solipsism, she kept silent a while; finally she said with neither spite nor pity, clinically, 'You could kill yourself, Osden."
"That's your way, Haito," he jeered. "I'm not depressive, and seppuku isn't my bit. What do you want me to do here?"
"Leave. Spare yourself and us. Take the aircarand a data-feeder and go do a species count In the forest; Harfex hasn't even started the forests yet Take a hundred-square-meter forested area, anywhere inside radio range. But outside empathy range. Report in at 8 and 24 o'clock daily."
Osden went, and nothing was heard from him for five days but laconic all-well signals twice daily. The mood at base camp changed like a stage-set Eskwana stayed awake up to eighteen hours a day. Poswet To got her stellar lute and chanted the celestial harmonies (music had driven Osden into a frenzy). Mannon, Harfex, Jenny Chong and Tomiko all went off tranquilizers. Porlock distilled some-tiling in his laboratory and drank it all by himself. He had a hangover. Asnanifoil and Poswet To held an all-night Numerical Epiphany, that mystical orgy of higher mathematics which is the chief pleasure of the religious Cetian soul. Olleroo slept with everybody. Work went well.