The young channel laughed. "Aye, sir, that I did. Hank and I had breakfast. And before you assert your Gen authority to remind me that Simes should eat twice a day, I'll let you bring me an apple, Owen."
Zeth and Owen were eating sandwiches in the kitchen when Zeth's parents arrived home. Kadi Farris went straight to her son and put her arms around him. "They told us what you did today. Oh, Zeth, you could have been killed!"
"It's my fault, Kadi," said Zeth's father. "Shen and shid! How could I have let my own son think a child couldn't be killed? We're too casual, Simes and Gens together—the children think there's no danger . . . and then we have a day like today." He shook his head. "Sometimes I think Abel's right that God is personally looking out for us. We certainly put Him to the test today." He ran fingers and tentacles through his wiry black hair. "Owen. I meant to talk with you this afternoon, but we got behind, and then this thing with Abel's granddaughter—"
Owen had put down his half-eaten sandwich and was staring at Rimon as if waiting for a blow to fall. "I didn't mean to hurt Jord," he blurted out. "I was trying not to tempt him!"
"I know," said Rimon. "Jord told us. It wasn't your fault, but from now on I'll take your donations."
The tension drained out of Owen. "You're not going to send me away."
"No, of course not," said Kadi.
"But we must be more careful. I could throttle Jord," said Rimon. "After all that, daring to touch an out-Territory Gen—"
"His sister," Kadi reminded him. "Tonight, with his family home, he was closer to normal than I've seen him in years."
"Dad, he did suggest that Uel Whelan take her donation," Zeth said, "but Mrs. Carson wanted her brother to do it."
Kadi took her husband's hand. "You know what a difference "love and trust make, Rimon."
Zeth's father's sensitive lips curved in a reluctant smile. "I also know how dangerous it can be to rely on emotion rather than knowledge. But this time it worked. What a day!"
"How's Mr. Veritt?" asked Zeth.
"If I know Abel, he'll be up tomorrow, though my prescription would be a week in bed. Speaking of bed, why are you boys still up?"
"We were hungry," Zeth explained.
"Well, finish up and get to bed," said Rimon. He started to leave, turned back, and looked puzzledly at his son. "Zeth– before Mrs. Carson came, did Abel have a chance to tell you . . . ?"
"He told me."
"Rimon," said Kadi, "Zeth's tired. Don't make him think about that now. Zeth, you get some rest, and we'll talk when you're ready."
"I don't have to talk about it," said Zeth. "I understand."
"He really does," said Owen. "I said . . . some awfully dumb things a while ago. I don't think a channel could have made me see more clearly than Zeth did how wrong I was."
Kadi Farris' blue eyes swam with tears. "You mean on top of everything else, you had to counsel Owen, Zeth?"
"I'm sorry," said Owen. "I was so scared you were going to send me away that I didn't even think about Zeth's problems."
"Our son is growing up," Kadi said proudly.
Zeth felt himself blushing. "Maybe I am," he said, "but I'm not sure if I like it!"
The next day the one-channel-always-at-Farris rule was suspended, as the entire community of Fort Freedom poured into the Old Fort. There was a thanksgiving service, led by Jord Veritt, as Abel was still recuperating. Zeth heard more than one person speculate that Mrs. Veritt must have locked him in.
Mrs. Carson and Marji were the center of attention, as everyone had questions about friends and relatives across the border. .As people found out who had married, who had children—and who had died or disappeared—Mrs. Carson's wagon piled up with presents, and messages.
Marji Carson, congratulated on every side for what she had always thought of as being cursed, answered politely but vaguely, one eye on her mother as if asking permission to speak to Simes. Mrs. Carson was surrounded by Companions, unobtrusively shielding her. Zeth wondered if she had any notion why his mother, or Anni Steers, or Trina Morgan, was constantly by her side.
Children Zeth's age and younger came to stare at the strangers, but soon ran off to play games. Like Zeth, they were too young to remember anyone who had crossed the border to Gen Territory. The younger Simes and Gens went to set up the tables for the feast. Jana, Owen's sister, went along to help, but neither Owen nor Zeth wanted to join them.
Owen hung around Mrs. Carson, listening. Zeth wondered if he was trying to act like a Companion, until there was a lull in the conversation. Then Owen asked hesitantly, "Mrs. Carson ... do you know a Gen family named Lodge?"
"Lodge? Not in our village—but there's a big ranch run by a Glian Lodge."
Owen's blue eyes widened. "That's my uncle!"
"I've never met him," said Mrs. Carson,' "though I've seen him at market day. He's a big blond, like you. And rich."
Owen laughed. "I'm rich, too—or my pa is. Del Erick. We raise the best horses in the Territory."
"Erick? But you said Lodge?"
"I can hardly remember my father," Owen explained, "but his name was Owen Lodge. That's my name, too– Owen Lodge Erick. Ma married Del Erick when I was just a little boy. He's been my father all my life, it seems."
"Perhaps Mr. Erick has relatives across the border, but I don't know anyone by that name."
"No—Pa came from in-Territory. And Ma always said she was the last of her family. Bresson. Carlana Bresson."
"Oh!" exclaimed Mrs. Carson. "That's why you look so familiar. Those eyes. Just like your mother's."
"That's what everyone says. Did you know her?"
"Not very well. She had just come to Fort Freedom when I left. But I remember how beautiful she was. Your father must have come here after I left."
Other people wanted to talk with Mrs. Carson, so Owen drifted away, Zeth following, Patches at his heels. Zeth wondered if Owen was remembering his real parents.
But Owen sat down on the steps of the Veritt house, saying, "There's something funny, Zeth. All those years, Fort Freedom sent Gens to that community across the border. And a lot of them got there, according to Mrs. Carson. But no Simes have come back."
"Well . . . Mrs. Carson was one of the first to be sent,
wasn't she? And her daughter's just old enough for changeover now. The others' children must still be too young.
"What about other people's children? There's a whole village of Gens—not just people from Fort Freedom. Why didn't they tell people about us?"
Patches butted his head against Zeth's knee for attention. He bent and hugged the dog as support against what he had to say. "Mrs. Carson said they'd have beaten Marji to death. They don't have channels or Companions, Owen. A new Sime always kills. Even Mrs. Carson thought Marji was possessed by a demon."
"But still she brought her here," said Owen. "If people over there know, how can they not tell their children?"
The door opened, and Hank Steers cane out onto the porch. Both boys immediately demanded, "How's Mr. Veritt?"
"Margid's helping him dress. He insists he's going to the feast."
"Dad said he would," Zeth commented.
"Yeah—that's Abel," Hank agreed, sitting down on the top step. "I heard you boys. You've never lived in Gen Territory. You don't know the fear the very idea of a Sime evokes—or the hatred. If your child turns Sime, he's not your child."
"In-Territory people think Gens are animals," said Zeth. "Still, folks show their kids the way to the border."
"Sure," said Hank. "If you're Sime, and your child is Gen, he's turned into something fragile and helpless."