"No, it's really interesting, Viktor," the boy protested. "What do you mean, if you had people?"

Viktor resigned himself. "All right, let's start from the beginning. The whole planet's bare, right? Which means there's no ground cover to hold the soil in place. So it's been was.h.i.+ng down into the sea for a couple of centuries now, which means that if it isn't stopped fairly soon Newmanhome will stay stay dead." He paused for a moment, trying to remember the bright, promising early days of the first colony on Newmanhome. "So what has to be done, as soon as possible, is get some kind of vegetation going, all over the world. That means planting seeds-a whole planet's worth of seeds, Balit; millions of tons of them. I suppose they'd have to be sown from airplanes-if we had airplanes. If we had the seeds to sow. Then-are you sure you want to hear all this?" dead." He paused for a moment, trying to remember the bright, promising early days of the first colony on Newmanhome. "So what has to be done, as soon as possible, is get some kind of vegetation going, all over the world. That means planting seeds-a whole planet's worth of seeds, Balit; millions of tons of them. I suppose they'd have to be sown from airplanes-if we had airplanes. If we had the seeds to sow. Then-are you sure you want to hear all this?"

"Please, Viktor!" the boy begged.

Viktor shrugged. "But we need people to do the work. Not only to sow the seeds planetwide, but to grow food to feed everybody doing it. And to build the planes, maybe; and before that to build the factories to build the planes. Balit," he said earnestly, "I've been through this before, and it's hard. hard. When the first Earth s.h.i.+ps landed here they had a few thousand people, and all kinds of machinery designed for every purpose you can imagine-and still everybody was working night and day for years. How many people are on Newmanhome now?" When the first Earth s.h.i.+ps landed here they had a few thousand people, and all kinds of machinery designed for every purpose you can imagine-and still everybody was working night and day for years. How many people are on Newmanhome now?"

"Sixteen," the boy said promptly. "I mean, sixteen from the habitats, plus forty-two like you, and all the gillies."

"Sixteen," Viktor said, nodding. "Plus forty-two like me. Of course there are a few thousand more-like me-in the freezers, but we can't do much about it. Manett says they tried to revive some on their own, but most of them died. Freezer burn, over all that time, the only chance is to take them back to the habitats where somebody like Nrina has all the equipment and can do the job right. No," he said, staring emptily at the brown hills, "I don't see how it's possible. We just don't have the resources to stay alive here, much less try to figure out-"

He stopped himself, then grinned at the boy. "I was all set to go on about Nebo and what happened to the universe again, wasn't I? And you've already heard enough about that."

"Never enough, Viktor," Balit said seriously, but he turned off his camera. Then he said, "There are plenty of people on the habitats, you know."

"Sure there are. They stay there, too. They don't come to crude places like this."

"I'm here, Viktor."

Apologetic, Viktor reached out to stroke the boy's shoulder. "I know you are, Balit. I appreciate it. But-let's be serious, Balit. How many people are willing to leave the habitats and come here? And the ones who do come, how long can they stay? You can't tell me you're comfortable comfortable here." here."

"It's not so bad, Viktor," the boy said, trying to sound as though he meant it. They were silent for a moment, then Viktor pointed down through the water.

"See those lumps down there? Not the Von Neumanns, the square-edged ones? I think those were the docks of Homeport. Of course, they're buried in mud now, but I'm pretty sure that's what they were."

"Wouldn't the docks be at the water's edge, Viktor?"

"They were. But that was before the ice pushed the land down; that happens, sometimes." Viktor looked around. "I'd bet," he said, "that we're floating right now just about over where Homeport was!"

He stopped paddling and gazed at the water, trying to reconstruct the plan of the old town. It could have been so. This could have been the waterfront-that patch back there where his home had been-up higher, near where the present sh.o.r.eline lay, perhaps the old site of the schoolhouse where he had first met brash, red-headed, teen-aged Theresa McGann . . .

"Is something the matter, Viktor?" Balit asked anxiously.

Viktor blinked. After a moment he managed a grin. "It's all right," he said. "I was just remembering."

Balit nodded, studying Viktor's face. Then he said hesitantly, "Viktor? Has-ah-has Nrina called you?"

Viktor looked at the boy. "It wasn't Nrina I was thinking about," he said.

"I know," the boy said. "I just wondered." And then he said, "When we give Markety's boat back to him, do you think we should ask him to show us the Nebo things?"

"Oh, my G.o.d," Viktor said, shaking his head in astonishment. Because, incredible as it was, with all the other things that had been going on since he arrived back on Newmanhome, he had almost forgotten "the Nebo things."

The things weren't in a museum, or anything like one. They were in a shed on the outskirts of the little colony, and most of the s.p.a.ce was full of junk that no one wanted but no one was willing to throw away. Since that exactly described the artifacts from Nebo, they were there-half-concealed behind a litter of broken dune-buggy wheels, stacks of cracked crockery dug out of the ice-age warrens, and other unnameable debris, When, with Markety's help, Viktor and Balit got to the Nebo things they were not much better. The largest of them Viktor had already seen, on Nrina's desk machine, a lavender metal object as big as a man, more or less cubical in shape. Viktor poked it cautiously. It was very solid. "Why weren't these things taken to the habitats?" he asked.

Markety looked astonished. "They might be dangerous, dangerous, Viktor. You know what happened on Nebo when people tried to poke into that sort of thing. They're better here, so that in case anyone does anything risky there would be less damage-I mean, to anything Viktor. You know what happened on Nebo when people tried to poke into that sort of thing. They're better here, so that in case anyone does anything risky there would be less damage-I mean, to anything important," important," he explained. he explained.

"You mean if anybody tries to see what's inside them," Viktor said, nodding. "Maybe you're right, but it has to be done."

Markety's astonishment turned to worry. "I don't know if that's a good idea, Viktor."

"It doesn't have to be done here. Maybe they could be taken to some other part of Newmanhome-maybe we could work out some kind of remote-controlled machinery to try to open them up-I don't know, maybe the best place to do it is on Nebo itself. But in the long run we have to take the chance, because we do have to know!" As the words came out of his mouth Viktor heard, surprisingly, that he sounded as though he were actually growing excited again.

"Pelly says maybe it could be done in s.p.a.ce," Balit offered eagerly.

"Just so it's done, I don't care how," Viktor said. "Those Nebo machines did things human beings couldn't even imagine-ever-even when they could travel from star to star."

Markety coughed. "We know they were pretty good at killing people, anyway," he conceded.

"I don't think those deaths were on purpose," Viktor argued. "Not all of them, anyway. At least we know that they actually helped some people-the ones I saw land on Nebo; we have the tapes to prove it. Yes, they died after a while, but they weren't simply murdered . . . G.o.d knows why," he finished. Then he went on. "I haven't said all of this even to you, Balit, but I have a kind of an idea. I think there's another civilization around-not human. At least, I think there was, and that they sent somebody to Nebo long ago-very long ago, even before the first New Ark New Ark landed here from Earth." landed here from Earth."

"n.o.body's ever said anything like that, Viktor," Balit said worriedly. "Where would those people come from?"

"I don't know. The star Gold has planets, according to Pelly. Maybe the people who landed on Nebo came from one of those planets. Anyway, I think that for some reason-I can't even guess what it might have been-they constructed those machines on Nebo to tap the energies of our sun, and use them to accelerate this whole little group of stars."

"Why would they do that?" Markety asked good-naturedly.

"I have no idea. I said so. But we'll never have any hope of knowing 'why' unless we can figure out 'how'-and that means taking some of those machines apart to see what made them run!"

There was a moment's silence. Then Markety said diffidently, "Viktor? You don't mean you're going to, well, just try to break one of them open by yourself, do you?"

"If there was no other way, I would," Viktor said uncompromisingly.

"My," Markety said, pursing his lips. He studied Viktor's face uncomprehendingly, then sighed. "Well, let's talk about something more cheerful. Are you getting hungry?" he asked. "I was hoping you two would join me for lunch-I have some good things Pelly brought from home. What about it, Balit?"

But Balit wasn't listening. His eyes were on the door. "Viktor? Why is it getting so dark outside?" he asked.

Viktor turned to look. It was true; the bright day had turned gloomy. The sun was gone, and the clouds were thick and black. "Well," he said, "if we're going anywhere maybe we'd better hurry. I think it's going to rain."

Rain it did-the first big warm drops splas.h.i.+ng on them even before they reached Markety's home, then cras.h.i.+ng torrents when they were safely inside. Balit was delighted. He kept jumping up to the doorway, to take more and more pictures. It was coming down most imposingly, with thunder that made Balit hold his ears and lightning strokes that made him squeal-not in fear, or not all in fear, but mostly in a thrill of excitement at this unprecedented, unimaginable spectacle of the elements at work.

The lunch was all Markety had promised, and he was a cheerful host. "I do apologize for not knowing more about those Nebo things, Viktor," he said, steadying his hand to pour wine. It took both his hands to hold the decanter against Newmanhome's pull, one to support the other. "It was my wife, really, who was interested in them-Grimler, you remember? You met her when you arrived."

"Oh," Viktor said, trying to recapture the memory of a slim, pretty woman. "I think I did."

"And she went back with Pelly, unfortunately. I really miss her . . . But I can't say she knew very much about them, you know, it was just that she thought they were interesting."

"I'd like to talk to her anyway," Viktor said.

"And so you shall, as soon as she gets back." Markety sipped the wine, made a critical face, then beamed. "Yes, I think it's all right. Balit? If you can sit still for a moment I'd like to offer a toast to your wonderful parents."

"Just a minute," the boy called from the doorway, fascinated as he took his pictures of the bright violence in the sky and the muddy rivulets that were running down the walkway outside. "Oh, Viktor," he breathed, "I just can't wait till I send these pictures to my cla.s.s-they'll be so jealous." jealous." Then he recollected himself. "You wanted to drink a toast, Markety?" Then he recollected himself. "You wanted to drink a toast, Markety?"

"To our great artists, Frit and Forta," Markety said, lifting his gla.s.s with ceremony. Then, when they had drunk, he added, "They're part of the reason Grimler sent the data to you, you know. Of course, she was interested anyway, but she would have done anything if Frit or Forta asked her to-any of us would! Did you see his new dance-poem about the kitten? No? Perhaps it was while you were in flight, but we saw the transmission here. Marvelous!" Marvelous!"

"Did you know that Viktor has danced with Forta?" Balit put in.

Markety blinked at him in astonishment. "This Viktor? He dances? He's danced with Forta? Forta? Why, that's wonderful, Viktor," he said enthusiastically. "I had no idea. I really envy you, Viktor. Actually-" He permitted himself a rueful little smile. "At one time, you know, I wanted to be a dancer myself. I even hoped to study with Forta for a time. It didn't work out. He's kind enough to say he remembers me, but I think he's just being polite. I didn't really have the talent, I'm afraid, except in a very amateur way. And in this gravity of course I can't dance at all." Why, that's wonderful, Viktor," he said enthusiastically. "I had no idea. I really envy you, Viktor. Actually-" He permitted himself a rueful little smile. "At one time, you know, I wanted to be a dancer myself. I even hoped to study with Forta for a time. It didn't work out. He's kind enough to say he remembers me, but I think he's just being polite. I didn't really have the talent, I'm afraid, except in a very amateur way. And in this gravity of course I can't dance at all."

"Viktor can," Balit pointed out. "He grew up here."

Markety stared at the boy, then, with sudden respect, at Viktor. "Really," "Really," he marveled. "Could you some time, Viktor? Perhaps after Grimler comes back? I know she'd be thrilled." he marveled. "Could you some time, Viktor? Perhaps after Grimler comes back? I know she'd be thrilled."

"Certainly Viktor will dance for you," Balit said graciously. "We'll need music, but I'll ask Forta to transmit some."

"Wonderful," Markety breathed, and if he had been a hospitable host before, now he was almost overwhelming. The scariness of Viktor's ideas about Nebo were forgotten. Markety selected the finest fruits for Viktor and Balit, and would not eat himself until convinced they were satisfied. But he was beaming. "Isn't this fine? The rain, and such good company, and all these things going on around us? I can't tell you how glad we are that we're here-Grimler and me-I mean, when she's here." Markety breathed, and if he had been a hospitable host before, now he was almost overwhelming. The scariness of Viktor's ideas about Nebo were forgotten. Markety selected the finest fruits for Viktor and Balit, and would not eat himself until convinced they were satisfied. But he was beaming. "Isn't this fine? The rain, and such good company, and all these things going on around us? I can't tell you how glad we are that we're here-Grimler and me-I mean, when she's here."

Maybe it was the wine. Certainly there had been a lot of it, but for whatever reason, Viktor couldn't help asking, "How come? I mean, I didn't think you habitat people liked planets all that much."

Markety looked both proud and embarra.s.sed. "Grimler and I aren't like all the habitat people," he stated confidently. "I admit some of our friends think we're crazy, but-actually, we like it here. Grimler's said many times things are just too easy in the habitats. There's no challenge. challenge. And here's a whole planet that we can make live again-we just want to do our little part in bringing that about. So our lives will be worth something, do you understand? And she'd be here now, except for-" And here's a whole planet that we can make live again-we just want to do our little part in bringing that about. So our lives will be worth something, do you understand? And she'd be here now, except for-"

Markety hesitated for a moment, then, grinning, pulled the blue beret off his head.

It was the first time Viktor had seen him bareheaded. Beside him, Balit made a startled little sound as they both saw that Markety's forehead was emblazoned with the fertility emblem.

"That's right," he said, with that same mixture of pride and embarra.s.sment. "Grimler and I decided we even wanted to have our own own baby! Not that there's anything wrong with what Nrina does," he added swiftly. "That's all very well for those who prefer it. But we wanted one who was our baby! Not that there's anything wrong with what Nrina does," he added swiftly. "That's all very well for those who prefer it. But we wanted one who was our natural natural child, not programmed ahead of time, and so . . . well, we just went ahead and did it, the old-fas.h.i.+oned way. We made Grimler what you call 'pregnant.' " child, not programmed ahead of time, and so . . . well, we just went ahead and did it, the old-fas.h.i.+oned way. We made Grimler what you call 'pregnant.' "

"I'm amazed," Viktor declared truthfully.

"Oh, everybody is," Markety said modestly. "But that's what we want-someone who can grow up here on Newmanhome, and not have to take all those pills and injections, and-well, to be more or less just like you, Viktor!"

And that was when there was a scrambling at the door and Jeren turned up, soaked and glistening with rain, his face white with misery.

"Viktor!" he croaked. "The farm! We were just up there checking on everything, and it's gone! All of it! All the seedlings! They're just washed away!"

And behind him Manett came raging in. "Curse you, Viktor! You made us dig that ditch, and now it's just ruined everything!" everything!"

And when the worst of the storm was over, and bits of blue were beginning to appear in the east, and Viktor trudged up to look, every word had been true. A healthy stream poured through the new aqueduct, and right on through the little planted area. Not everything was gone, quite. But only a few rows highest up, farthest from the irrigation ditch, survived; everything else was furrowed and glistening mud.

"We should have directed the ditch into some kind of holding pond," Viktor said remorsefully. "And we shouldn't have planted on a hillside like this in the first place-I didn't think about erosion. Especially with all that bare ground up the hill." He shook his head in self-reproach. "I should have known," he said.

"d.a.m.n right you should," Manett snarled.

The next day it was as though the storm had never been, the sky cobalt, the sun warm, hardly a cloud in the sky.

But the storm's traces had not gone away. It wasn't just the farm. The street of the little community was ankle deep in brown, gluey mud. Nothing with wheels could move in it. Even the gillie litter bearers could make little headway, their furred feet turning into b.a.l.l.s of clinging, sticky stuff; the habitat people painfully picked their way along, one slow step at a time, when they had to go out. Most of them chose to spend the day indoors.

Yet Balit was entering the communications shed at the end of the street. Viktor saw the boy and felt a moment's surprise, but he was talking to Jeren. "We'll have to find a new place for the farm," he said. "On a level. Preferably with some sort of a ridge between it and the hills, so if there's a flood it'll be diverted away from the plants. And near enough to a stream so we can irrigate."

"I don't think we can go looking for a place today," Jeren said doubtfully.

"No, not until the ground dries out a little," Viktor agreed. "And we'll have to do something here, too. I don't suppose we can pave the street, but maybe we could plant gra.s.ses all around the village to hold the soil when it rains."

"We can do that," Jeren agreed, looking over Viktor's shoulder. "Viktor? I think Balit's waving to you."

When Viktor turned, he saw it was true. When he trudged his way to the communications shack, the mud sucking at his feet at every step, the boy was bubbling with pleasure. "Viktor, come inside, please. Right away! I've just had a message from Moon Mary that I want you to see!"

There was no denying Balit's excitement. Viktor supposed it would be another loving communication from Frit or Forta, or both of them; for those came almost every day.

It was neither Frit nor Forta. When the picture came on it was a cl.u.s.ter of Balit's schoolmates, laughing and excited. They weren't in their cla.s.sroom. They were gathered around a plot of ground with bright-green, healthy-looking seedlings poking out of it. "See, Viktor? They did what you said," Balit said proudly.

"What I said?"

"That we should have the soil a.n.a.lyzed. Pelly had some clods on the cryonics capsules he was bringing back, so I asked my school to take it on as part of their project."

"What project?" Viktor demanded. project?" Viktor demanded.

"They've taken on Newmanhome as a project," Balit explained. "Not just the soil-that's only part of it. But they had it tested to see what it needed, and then they added things. Look at the difference now!"

Viktor stared at him, incredulous. "One little cla.s.s of kids did that?"

"They're not just kids, Viktor-they're as old as I am. Besides, Grimler helped."

"Grimler? Markety's wife?"

"Yes, of course. She's there, too; you'll see her in a minute. And it wasn't just my cla.s.s, anyway," Balit declared. "All over the habitats there are schools that have Newmanhome projects. You wanted to know what I was doing with all the pictures I took? Half the schools in the orbits have been watching them. All the kids are getting into it, Viktor-and, look, there's Grimler now!"

Indeed, there she was, slim as ever, looking radiant. "Pelly's going to bring two tons of the 'fertilizer' stuff on his next trip, Balit. And, oh, has Markety told you the good news? He's a boy," she said, glowing with pleasure. "Perfectly healthy, and he is going to have Markety's hair and eyes. Isn't it wonderful?" wonderful?"

"Well, I'll have to congratulate Markety," Viktor said with warmth. "I'm delighted, only-" He was staring at the woman on the screen. "Had she had the baby already?" he asked, gazing at Grimler's flat midsection. "I didn't think there was time-"

"Oh," Balit said, looking faintly repelled, "it isn't born born yet. I mean, honestly, Markety and Grimler certainly wanted to go back to the old ways, up to a point, but not for Grimler to have to yet. I mean, honestly, Markety and Grimler certainly wanted to go back to the old ways, up to a point, but not for Grimler to have to bear bear it. No, the reason Grimler went back was so dear Nrina could remove it and check it for defects and so on, and then let it come to term properly; it'll be a season or two yet before they have it." it. No, the reason Grimler went back was so dear Nrina could remove it and check it for defects and so on, and then let it come to term properly; it'll be a season or two yet before they have it."

The boy turned off the picture. "Aren't you pleased about all this, Viktor?" he asked anxiously.

Viktor thought about it. "Of course I am," he said, when he was sure he meant it. "Only-"

"Only what, Viktor? Is something wrong?" And when Viktor didn't answer Balit sighed. "Never mind. But, honestly, I think things are going to go a lot better now."

As a matter of fact, they did. Not well enough to lift Viktor out of the shadowy depression that hung over him; well enough so that there was, actually, progress in the things that mattered to the community.

As soon as the ground was dry enough Viktor and Jeren found a spot that was level enough to suit Viktor's strictures. It was protected by a rise just above it, which, he thought, would divert any future floods; and the gillies began grading it for planting at once.

Viktor was on the scene every day, prowling around worriedly when he wasn't manning a shovel himself, trying to remember what things had been like. It was Viktor who decided they needed to heap up a berm of earth around the farm plot, to retain rainfall when it came, but needed also to gate it, so that if the rains were too heavy they could drain standing water off the plots. It was Viktor who demanded a catalogue of every decipherable label of stored genetic materials in the freezer, poring over them to see if he could figure out which might be plants they could use and which would turn out to be merely some peculiar subspecies of cactus or jungle creeper or moss that someone once had thought might sometime be useful, or at least desirable, somewhere-under some conditions-but could do nothing to feed them now.

Viktor kept himself busy. Harshly he told himself that the absence of hope was no reason at all to stop trying. trying. Funnily, it seemed to work. Funnily, it seemed to work.

Whenever there was some good development, whenever Viktor found himself tempted to optimism again, he tried his best to quell the feeling. He didn't want hope. He didn't want the disappointment that hope would bring. He was often the only dour face in an a.s.sembly of smiles. Jeren, Balit, Korelto-even Manett and Markety, in their own very different ways-they were all charged up with the excitement of bringing a whole planet to a new birth. Viktor tried not to be. After all, he knew exactly what that was like, for he had lived through it once already, in those first frontier days, thousands of Newmanhome years before.

"But don't you see, Viktor?" Balit said reasonably, in a break between work sessions. "That just means that you, of all people, ought to know that everything we're hoping for can really happen!"

Viktor didn't answer. There was no point in telling the boy the other things he knew-for example, how great the differences were. When the s.h.i.+ps from Earth had landed on Newmanhome the colonists they carried had been chosen people. They had been trained and equipped for the job. They had all of Earth's technological knowledge base transported with them to fall back on. More than that, they were all young, young, and full of the juices of hope-and, most important of all, the planet they conquered wasn't a corpse. It was already a fully living world with an existing biota of its own. and full of the juices of hope-and, most important of all, the planet they conquered wasn't a corpse. It was already a fully living world with an existing biota of its own.

And none of that was true now.

So Viktor refused to hope. When Manett, glowing, told him that Dekkaduk was going to bring them a whole revivification system for the remaining corpsicles in the deep freeze, Viktor's congratulations were perfunctory. When Markety bashfully begged permission to name his forthcoming son after him, Viktor refused to be touched. When Balit announced with delight that a dozen schools had clubbed together to launch a new s.p.a.ce telescope-maybe even to settle the question of whether Gold's planets had any possible inhabitants-Viktor's heart trembled for a moment, but he quelled it.

But when Balit came shouting his name- When Balit came shouting for Viktor, what he was saying was, "Come quickly! She's called! It's Nrina!" And when Viktor came stumbling out of his workroom, rubbing his eyes, it wasn't just Balit. Markety was there, face transfigured with excitement, calling, "Go to the communications shack right away, Viktor!" And Jeren was there, blinking back tears, babbling, "I wasn't sure, sure, Viktor! I thought it was her, but I didn't want to say." And Balit was saying, "And there was freezer damage, so Nrina wouldn't let us tell you until she was sure it would be all right-" Viktor! I thought it was her, but I didn't want to say." And Balit was saying, "And there was freezer damage, so Nrina wouldn't let us tell you until she was sure it would be all right-"