A Thousand Deaths (19 page)

"They weren't superhuman. They had weaknesses, too, and they fell, but they never stopped trying to go on. They never gave in to hopelessness."

Courane was heavy with the knowledge of his own frailty. "I give in sometimes," he said.

"Not completely. Yes, I know you have doubts. Everyone has doubts. But you can't let them beat you. When you give up completely, you die."

"I'm afraid almost all the time."

Alohilani nodded; she knew what he meant. "Courage isn't courage until it has faced fear. Perseverance doesn't mean anything unless it's tested by the temptation to quit, by the sense of failure."

"Failure," said Courane. His thoughts were somber. "When I look back at the past, I see a mob of mistakes. They add up to a perfect shape of failure, something that could be used as an official standard. When I look into the future, I can't see any security or happiness or prospects of success."

Alohilani took his hand. "Even with me on your side?" she asked.

"That's not fair," he said.

"I will lend you help whenever you need it," she said.

"Yes, I know you will, and Sheldon and Daan will, too. But few others will. TECT won't. No matter what I do or what happens to me, my life will be entirely pointless to everyone else."

"I love you," she said, as if it was some kind of answer. Courane knew that all her love could not keep him from failing again.

 

The next time Courane regained clarity of thought, he knew he was no longer in the desert. He had left behind even the border of yellow sun-baked mud. He had reached the hills at last.

They were old hills, ancient mountains eroded into low mounds that formed the western boundary of the river valley. The air was fresher and much cooler among the tree-clad hills. The breezes were softer and laden with moisture. The stinging sand was gone, the parching heat, and the hard stones beneath his blistered feet. He walked on a carpet of evergreen needles and autumn-brown leaves. He was glad to be out of the desert and his mood was almost triumphant, even though he had three or four more days to walk before he reached the house. But his goal was suddenly within reach. For a time in the desert, he began to believe that the hills were an illusion, receding infinitely toward the horizon.

He paused to rest near nightfall, laying the young woman's body gently down in the leaves. He read the note pinned to her and shook his head. He was very glad that the people in the house knew what to do with her because he certainly didn't. He didn't even remember who the people in the house were. He hoped that, in addition, they might know what to do with him. He had no plans at all about what he would do after he delivered her. Maybe he would be given another mission. If that were true, he thought, with any kind of luck he wouldn't need to go back into the desert. It had almost killed him this time around.

He fell asleep beneath a tree and dreamed vivid dreams of his mother and father, of Alohilani, and of a great black formless creature that hovered silently always just behind him. When Courane turned quickly around to see, the creature was always gone, but Courane felt its breath on his neck and heard its panting. The creature was named TECT.

 

 

 

Eight

 

 

**COURANE, Sandor. 
You are taking a lot for granted**

 

"Maybe, but you told me yourself that there are these little things called viroids that are responsible—"

 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
Yes, yes. Shut up and listen. Viroids are responsible for D syndrome and there is nothing you can do to remove them from the human nervous system once they have entered it. What you ought to do now is learn how they work, how they act on the human organism, and how to rectify the damage they do**

 

Courane was a little confused. "Didn't I try that already?" he asked. "When you refused to give us the drugs that improve memory?"

 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
That is nothing like what you must do. Treating D fever symptomatically is as futile as treating a cerebral hemorrhage with aspirin. Enhancing memory is not the answer**

 

Courane thought for a long while. He tried to frame his questions in just the right way necessary if he was going to make anyfurther progress. It was like a gigantic puzzle all of whose pieces were the same color. "Either these viroids are making something the body can't tolerate or they're preventing the body from doing something vital. Which of these two possibilities is the closest to the truth?"

 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
Excellent, COURANE, Sandor! TECT in the name of the Representative is amazed and gratified by how well you formed that question. You are taking great steps in your pursuit of this knowledge. Unfortunately you are ill- equipped to comprehend the answer**

 

"I didn't ask for that," he said. "Give me the answer."

 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
Although TECT in the name of the Representative has succeeded in fastening the blame on the viroids, we are still unsure exactly how to describe their mechanism. This matter is still under investigation**

 

"So TECT doesn't know. How about the slow viruses that have been studied previously? How do they work?"

 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
Their functions are similarly a mystery**

 

"Do they have anything in common? I mean, in the way they attack the host?"

 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
There has been some speculation, but you probably wouldn't be interested in that**

 

Courane slammed his fist on the console. "Let me hear it," he said.
 

 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
It's possible the viroids interfere with utilization of a certain neurotransmitter; that is with a substance that enables signals to pass along the nerve conduits to the brains**

 

"What is this stuff?"

 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
Acetylcholine. Now TECT in the name of the Representative knows what you're going to say. You're thinking that this is the same substance that was given to human volunteers and showed no effectiveness in improving their memory**

 

"That's right. What's the point?"

 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
Other experiments have been done which give more hope. Acetylcholine's chemical precursor is choline. The primary source of choline is lecithin, which is found in meat, eggs, and fish. Lecithin has been shown to be even more efficient than pure choline in increasing the brain's production of the neurotransmitter and in suppressing harmful symptoms**

 

"You say lecithin can help to fight the viroids?"

 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
TECT in the name of the Representative made no such claim. Lecithin will do nothing about the viroids. It will only stimulate the production of acetylcholine in the brain, which may help to minimize the pain and emotional distress of D syndrome. All of this is mere speculation, idle desires, wishing and dreaming almost completely unfounded on solid experimental data, yearnings and cravings and desperate fantasies spun only to alleviate the severity of your hopelessness**

 

"What about the lecithin in our food? Is there the same amount of lecithin in the fish and meat on Planet D as on Earth?"

 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
Of course it's there. But your food is where the viroids are coming from as well**

 

"They're in the meat and fish?"

 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
They're in the plants, too**

 

"Then there's no way to avoid catching D syndrome once you've come here!"

 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
BUJABÉ, Kenny, could have told you that. Of course, one could just refuse to eat until he is returned to Earth**

 

"And when would that be?" asked Courane skeptically.

 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
After death, of course. That is very amusing**

 

A few days after Markie's death, as New Year's approached, Courane found himself in an unshakable depression. Kenny had given him the vital piece of information and TECT had confirmed it. They were all, without exception, condemned to death. Kenny had known it for months. "Why didn't you tell me?" asked Courane. "Why did you let me waste so much valuable time?"

"Waste?" said Kenny. "What would you have done instead if I had told you?"

Courane had no answer. There wouldn't have been anything he could have done about it. "Still," he said, "I wish you had told me."

Kenny shook his head. "Sandy," he said, "what do you talk about when you visit people in the infirmary?"

"Nothing. Not much. Most of the time, they aren't in any shape to have a conversation."

"But when they're conscious and talking, what do you talk about?"

Courane tried to recall. He remembered a talk he had with Sheldon, who had gone into the infirmary only a week before. It had been a difficult visit because Alohilani was going through a period of intense anxiety and restlessness and had to be tied down to her bed for her own good. Sheldon had a great deal of pain, but was otherwise lucid. They talked about what Sheldon planned to do in the spring. He wanted to help Daan and Fletcher build the boats they had talked about. Courane listened to the chatter for a few minutes and then, disturbed by Alohilani's condition, pretended he had duties elsewhere. "I talk about whatever they want to talk about, of course," he said.

"Sure you do," said Kenny. "Do you tell them to their faces that they're going to die?"

Courane was shocked. "No," he said.

"You never tell a person he's going to die. You never even bring up the subject unless he wants to talk about it. See, if he asks you right out, you don't lie. You tell him the truth, but you give him some hope, too. If you had asked me weeks ago, I would have told you what I knew. What's the point of telling every new person who comes here that he doesn't have a snowball's chance to get back to Earth alive?"

"None, I guess ," said Courane.

"Let them live the rest of their lives in peace. If they stumble on the truth, then they can prepare themselves. If they don't ever find out, they'll die in their sleep like Markie."

"You're just a kid and you knew it all along," Courane said. "Even Fletcher wasn't sure about it."

"Fletcher has a good idea. Fletcher's pretty sharp."

Courane said nothing. At that time, his opinion of Fletcher was low. He thought Fletcher was just an arrogant, rather stupid young man from the slums of North America.

"So now that you know," said Kenny, "what are you going to do?"

"Daan and I are going to get to work. We're going to learn everything we can about the disease. We're going to start looking for a cure, and we're going to find out the truth about TECT."

Kenny laughed.

"But first," said Courane, "Daan and Rachel and I are going exploring."

"I thought you didn't like to leave the house very much."

"I don't unless it's absolutely necessary. We're going to look for firewood in the hills."

"Why don't you go across the river?" asked Kenny.

"Fletcher is going that way."

"Maybe I can go with him," said Kenny, excited by the prospect.

"You'll have to stay here and take care of the animals. They depend on you."

"Sure." Kenny had agreed too quickly; Courane suspected that he was planning to go along with Fletcher one way or another.

"So no one but you and I and Fletcher and Daan know the truth about TECT and Planet D."

Kenny smiled. "Unless you want to panic the others."

"There's no reason for that," said Courane. "But there might be a reason in the future."

"I'd make you a bet on that," said Kenny, "if I was going to live long enough to collect on it." Courane waited to see if the boy was serious or kidding him once again. He couldn't tell; Kenny walked away whistling.

 

The snow was falling gently but steadily; Courane watched it pile up from a window in the parlor. It was the twelfth of Vitelli. Lani was near death. Sheldon was in the infirmary, too, and Molly would join him soon. The people he had grown to love on Home were beginning to succumb to the slow virus.

Goldie came into the parlor. "Have you seen Arthur?" she asked.

Courane turned around. He had been lost in thought. "What did you say, Goldie?"

"Have you seen Arthur this afternoon? It's smudgeon for dinner and he and I have to kill the bird and clean it."

"No," said Courane, "I haven't seen him since yesterday evening."

Goldie's pet was sliding along toward Courane. "Feh," she called in her shrill voice, "get back here." The ick paid no attention. "He isn't very well-trained yet," she said in apology.

"That's all right," said Courane, watching the ick leave a glistening wet trail behind it on the polished wooden floor. Feh stopped beside his shoe and threw up a gelatinous pediform glob. Courane grimaced and jerked his foot away.

"Feh," called Goldie, "come here." Feh only quivered.

"I'll tell you what, Goldie. I'll take care of the smudgeon with Arthur. There's something I want to discuss with him anyway."

She looked immensely grateful. "Would you?" she said.

Courane just looked down at his shoe. The ick was making another approach. "I'd be glad to. Just call off your animal."

Goldie was able to lure Feh away by leaving a trail of salt. Courane shuddered as he watched Goldie the ick-tamer leading her beast out of the room. He then went up to Arthur's room, but the small man wasn't there. Next, Courane tried the barn. Arthur, Kenny, and Rachel were watching the varks annoy the osoi. "Arthur," said Courane, "we have to pick a smudgeon for dinner."

"Take the big brown one," said Kenny, "the one with the missing ear and the limp."

"Kenny's been teaching me about the animals," said Rachel. "I'm going to take over for him after he leaves."

"Good," said Courane. "Arthur, let's go look for that smudgeon."