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Some of them were to build a bypass around the falls; some would dig a canal to link the Shenandoah to the Potomac to avoid the danger of the rough water they now had to face with each trip. Two groups were to go back and forth between the falls and Washington and bring out the supplies that had been found the previous year. One group was on river patrol, to clear the rapids that the capricious rivers renewed each winter.

How many would return this time? Barry wondered. They would stay out longer than any of the others had; their work was more dangerous. How many?

“Having a building at the falls will help,” Lewis said suddenly. “It was the feeling of being exposed that made it particularly bad.”

Barry nodded. It was what they all reported — they felt exposed, watched. They felt the world was pressing in on them, that the trees moved closer as soon as the sun set. He glanced at Lewis, forgot what he had started to say, and instead watched a tic that had appeared at the corner of his mouth. Lewis was clenching his fists; he stared at the dwindling boats, and the tic jerked and vanished, jerked again.

“Are you all right?” Barry asked. Lewis shook himself and looked away from the river. “Lewis? Is anything wrong?”

“No. I’ll see you later.” He strode away swiftly.

“There’s something about being in the woods in the dark especially that has a traumatic effect,” Barry said later to his brothers. They were in the dormitory room they shared; at the far end, apart from them, sat Mark, cross-legged on a cot, watching them. Barry ignored him. They were so used to his presence now that they seldom noticed him at all, unless he got in the way. They usually noticed if he vanished, as he frequently did.

The brothers waited. That was well known, the fear of the silent woods.

“In training the children to prepare for their future roles, we should incorporate experience in living in the woods for prolonged periods. They could start with an afternoon, then go to an overnight camping expedition, and so on, until they are out for several weeks at a time.”

Bruce shook his head. “What if they were adversely affected to the point where they could not go out on the expeditions at all? We could lose ten years of hard work that way.”

“We could try it with a sample,” Barry said. “Two groups, one male, one female. If they show distress after the first exposure, we can slow it down, or even postpone it until they are a year or two older. Eventually they’ll have to go out there; we might be able to make it easier on them.”

They no longer were holding the number of like clones to six, but had increased them to ten of each group. “We have eighty children almost eleven years old,” Bruce said. “In four years they will be ready. If the statistics hold up, we’ll lose two-fifths of them within the first four months they are away, either to accidents or psychological stress. I think it’s worth a try to condition them to the woods and living apart beforehand.”

“They have to have supervision,” Bob said. “One of us.”

“We’re too old,” Bruce said with a grimace. “Besides, we know we’re susceptible to the psychological stress. Remember Ben.”

“Exactly,” Bob said. “We’re too old to make any difference here. Our young brothers are taking over our functions more and more, and their little brothers are ready to step into their places when needed. We are expendable,” he concluded.

“He’s right,” Barry said reluctantly. “It’s our experiment, our obligation to see it through. Draw lots?”

“Take turns,” Bruce said. “Each of us to have a crack at it before it’s over.”

“Can I go too?” Mark asked suddenly, and they all turned to look at him.

“No,” Barry said brusquely. “We know you’re not hurt by the woods. We don’t want anything to go wrong with this, no pranks, no tricks, no bravado.”

“You’ll get lost then,” Mark shouted. He jumped down from his cot and ran to the door and paused there to yell back, “You’ll be out in the woods with a bunch of crying babies and you’ll all go crazy and the woji will die laughing at you!”

A week later Bob led the first group of boys up into the woods behind the valley. Each carried a small pack with his lunch in it. They wore long pants and shirts and boots. Watching them leave, Barry could not banish the thought that he should have been the first to try it with them. His idea, his risk. He shook his head angrily. What risk? They were going for a hike in the woods. They would have lunch, turn around, and come back down. He caught Mark’s glance and for a moment they stared at each other, the man and boy, curiously alike, yet so distant from each other that no similarity was possible.

Mark broke the stare and looked again at the boys, who were climbing steadily and coming to the thicker growths. Soon they were invisible among the trees.

“They’ll get lost,” he said.

Bruce shrugged. “Not in one hour or two,” he said. “At noon they’ll eat, turn around, and come back.”

The sky was deep blue with puffs of white clouds and a very high band of cirrus clouds with no apparent beginning or end. It would be noon in less than two hours.

Stubbornly Mark shook his head, but he said nothing more. He returned to class, and then went to the dining room for lunch. After lunch he was due to work in the garden for two hours, and he was there when Barry sent for him.

“They aren’t back yet,” Barry said when Mark entered the office. “Why were you so certain they would be lost?”

“Because they don’t understand about the woods,” Mark said. “They don’t see things.”

“What things?”

Mark shrugged helplessly. “Things,” he said again. He looked from one brother to another and again shrugged.

“Could you find them?” Bruce asked. His voice sounded harsh, and deep frown lines cut into his forehead.

“Yes.”

“Let’s go,” Barry said.

‘The two of us?” Mark asked.

“Yes.”

Mark looked doubtful. “I could do it faster alone,” he said.

Barry felt a shudder start, and drew himself away from his desk with a brusque motion. He was holding himself rigidly under control now. “Not you alone,” he said. “I want you to show me those things you see, how you can find your way where there’s no path. Let’s go before it gets any later.” He glanced at the boy in his short tunic, barefooted. “Go get changed,” he said.

“This is all right for up there,” Mark said. “There’s nothing under the trees up there.”

Barry thought about his words as they headed for the woods. He watched the boy, now ahead of him, now at his side, sniffing the air happily, at home in the silent, dim woods.

They moved quickly and very soon they were deep in the forest where the trees had reached mature growth and made a canopy overhead that excluded the sun completely. No shadows, no way to discover directions, Barry thought, breathing hard as he worked to keep up with the nimble boy. Mark never hesitated, never paused, but moved rapidly with certainty, and Barry didn’t know what clues he found, how he knew to go this way and not that. He wanted to ask, but he needed his breath for climbing. He was sweating, and his feet felt like lead as he followed the boy.

“Let’s rest a minute,” he said. He sat on the ground, his back against a mammoth tree trunk. Mark had been ahead of him, and now he trotted back and squatted a few feet away.