She might return to the Dome now and then for supplies, or to refresh a need to see other people, but she could still spend most of her time alone with Erythro. But would not others follow? How could she prevent them? And with others, no matter how few, would not Eden inevitably be ruined? Wasn't it being ruined because she herself had entered Eden - only she?
‘No!’. She shouted it. She shouted it loudly in a sudden eager experiment to see if she could make the alien atmosphere tremble and force it to carry words to her ears.
She heard her own voice, but in the flat terrain there were no echoes. Her shout was gone as soon as it sounded.
She whirled again. The Dome was just a thin shadow on the horizon. It could almost be ignored, but not quite. She wished it was not visible at all. She wanted nothing in view but herself and Erythro.
She heard the faint sigh of the wind, and knew it had picked up speed. It was not strong enough to feel, and the temperature hadn't dropped, nor was it unpleasant.
It was just a faint ‘Ah-h-h-h.’
She imitated it cheerfully: ‘Ah-h-h-h-h.’
Marlene stared up at the sky curiously. The weather forecasters had said it would be clear that day. Was it possible for storms to blow up suddenly and unpredictably on Erythro? Would the wind rise and become uncomfortable? Would clouds whip across the sky and rain begin to fall before she could get back to the Dome?
That was silly, as silly as the meteors. Of course it rained on Erythro, but right now there were only a few wispy pink clouds above. They moved lazily against the dark and unobstructed sky. There didn't seem to be any sign of a storm.
‘Ah-h-h-h-h,’ whispered the wind. ‘Ah-h-h-h-h ay-y-y-y.’
It was a double sound, and Marlene frowned. What could be making that sound? Surely the wind could not make the sound by itself. It would have to pass some obstruction and whistle as it did so. But there was nothing of the sort within sight.
‘Ah-h-h-h-h ay-y-y-y-y uh-h-h-h-h.’
It was a triple sound now, with the stress on the second sound.
Marlene looked around, wondering. She couldn't tell where it was coming from. To make the sound, something had to be vibrating, but she saw nothing, felt nothing.
Erythro looked empty and silent. It could make no sound.
‘Ah-h-h-h ay-y-y-y uh-h-h-h.’
Again. Clearer than before. It was as though it were in her own head, and, at that thought, her heart seemed to contract and she shivered. She felt the gooseflesh rise on her arms; she didn't have to look.
Nothing could be wrong with her head. Nothing!
She was waiting to hear it again, and it came. Louder. Still clearer. Suddenly there was a ring of authority to it, as though it were practicing and growing better.
Practicing? Practicing what?
And unwillingly, entirely unwillingly, she thought: It's as though someone who can't sound consonants is trying to say my name.
As though that were a signal, or her thought had released another spasm of power, or had perhaps sharpened her imagination, she heard-
‘Mah-h-h lay-y-y nuh-h-h.’
Automatically, without knowing she was doing it, she lifted her hands and covered her ears.
Marlene, she thought - soundlessly.
And then came the sound, mimicking, ‘Mahr-lay-nuh.’
It came again, almost easily, almost naturally. ‘Marlene.’
She shuddered, and recognized the voice. It was Aurinel, Aurinel of Rotor, whom she hadn't seen since the day on Rotor when she told him that the Earth would be destroyed. She had thought of him hardly at all since then - but always achingly, when she did.
Why was she hearing his voice where he was not - or hearing any voice where all was not?
‘Marlene.’
And she gave up. It was the Erythro Plague that she had been so certain would not touch her.
She was running blindly, blindly, toward the Dome, not pausing to tell where it was.
She did not know that she was screaming.
67They had brought her in. They had sensed her sudden approach, at a run. Two guards in E-suits and helmets had moved out at once and they had heard her screaming.
But the screaming had stopped before they had reached her. The running had slowed and stopped, too; and that was before she seemed aware of their approach.
When they reached her, she looked at them quietly and amazed them by asking, ‘What's wrong?’
No-one had answered. A hand reached out for her elbow and she whipped away.
‘Don't touch me,’ she said. ‘I'll go to the Dome, if that's what you want, but I can walk.’
And she had walked quietly back with them. She was quite self-possessed.
68Eugenia Insigna, lips dry and pale, was trying not to seem distraught. ‘What happened out there, Marlene?’
Marlene said, her dark eyes wide and unfathomable, ‘Nothing. Nothing at all.’
‘Don't say that. You were running and screaming.’
‘I may have been for a little while, but just for a little while. You see, it was quiet, so quiet, that after a while I felt as though I must be deaf. Just silence, you know. So I stamped my feet and ran just to hear the noise, and I screamed-’
‘Just to hear the noise of it?’ asked Insigna, frowning.
‘Yes, Mother.’
‘Do you expect me to believe that, Marlene? Because I don't. We picked up the screams and those were not the screams of making noise. Those were screams of terror. Something had frightened you.’
‘I told you. The silence. The possibility of deafness.’ Insigna turned to D'Aubisson. ‘Isn't it possible, Doctor, that if you don't hear anything, anything at all, and if you're used to hearing things all the time, then your ears might just imagine they're hearing something so they can feel useful?’
D'Aubisson forced a thin smile. ‘That's a colorful way of putting it, but it is true that sensory deprivation can produce hallucinations.’
‘That disturbed me, I suppose. But after I heard my own voice and my own footsteps, I quieted down. Ask the two guards who came to get me. I was perfectly calm when they arrived, and I followed them into the Dome with no trouble. Ask them, Uncle Siever.’
Genarr nodded. ‘They've told me this. And we watched it happen, besides. Very well, then. That's it.’
‘That's not it at all,’ said Insigna, her face still white - from fright or anger or both. ‘She's not going out any more. The experiment is finished.’
‘No, Mother,’ said Marlene, outraged. D'Aubisson raised her voice, as though to forestall any angry clash of wills between mother and daughter. She said, ‘The experiment is not finished, Dr Insigna. Whether she goes out again or not is beside the point. We still have to deal with the consequences of what has happened.’
‘What do you mean?’ demanded Insigna.
‘I mean, it's all very well to talk about imagining voices because the ear is not accustomed to silence, but surely another possible reason for imagined voices is the onset of a certain mental instability.’
Insigna looked stricken.
Marlene said loudly, ‘Do you mean the Erythro Plague?’
‘I don't mean that particularly, Marlene,’ said D'Aubisson. ‘We don't have any evidence; only a possibility. So we need another brain scan. It's for your own good.’
‘No,’ said Marlene.
‘Don't say no,’ said D'Aubisson. ‘It's a must. We have no choice. It's something we'll have to do.’
Marlene looked at D'Aubisson out of her dark and brooding eyes. She said, ‘You're hoping I have the Plague. You want me to have the Plague.’
D'Aubisson stiffened, and her voice cracked. ‘That's ridiculous. How dare you say such a thing?’
But it was Genarr, now, who was staring at D'Aubisson. He said, ‘Ranay, we've discussed this little point about Marlene, and if she says you want her to have the Plague, you must have given yourself away in some way. That is, if Marlene is serious and isn't just saying it out of fright or anger.’
‘I'm serious,’ said Marlene. ‘She was just bubbling with hopeful excitement.’