THE CATERPILLARS QUESTION

The upright and horizontal poles supporting the tent emitted light. Jack and Tappy took turns in the bathtub. For some reason, the AI had not supplied a waterless skin-cleansing cubicle.

Perhaps, they sensed that water and soap were more satisfying to the humans. They were not capable of perceiving that a sho'A,er would have been even more satisfactory. Afterward, Jack and Tappy sat down to eat. Jack tried to keep talking so that the dismal silences could be brightened. But they in number and length.

When they were through eating, he said, "You've been kept in the dark too long, Tappy. I havent told you what's going on because I wanted to spare you fear and distress. However, I believe now that keeping you in ignorance isn't fair. If something bad happens, it shouldn't take you by surprise. And, maybe, you could help even if you can't talk."

She lIstened intently while he told her the situation. He omitted the desire of the AI for him to use her love for him as a tool. she took it well, though she could not keep her face expressionless.

Shadows of fear passed over her face now and then like the shades of very thin clouds on the Earth when passing below a bright moon.

"Now you know," he said. He leaned over the table and took her hand in his. "I told you all this only because we're in a desperate fix."

She squeezed his hand, and she looked confused.

He said, "I know. It's all mixed up. There are many things I probably don't understand any more than you do. One of the most perplexing is why you still don't see and talk. The AI say they've removed the blocks keeping you from doing that. They also say that it's up to you to go ahead. You don't, they say, because you aren't motivated to do so. Is that true?"

She raised her hands and hunched her shoulders. That meat, he supposed, that she did not know.

"The AI have great powers," he said, "but they're not allpowerful or all-knowing."

For a moment, he was strongly tempted to lie and to tell her that he was madly in love with her. The ends would justify the means. After all, the fate of the universe was at stake. Corny as that sounded, echoes of thousands of science-fiction stories, it was true.

However, he was not deeply concerned about the I'ves and deaths of perhaps trillions on trillions of people. Not at this moment. He deeply cared only about Tappy and himself.

"If you could speak, Tappy. If only you would."

He heard silence; he saw tears.

Something rose up within him. It was a red flash flood that crumbled the walls of his self-control. He banged his fist hard against the table. Then he yelled, "My God, Tappy! We'll die!

What is it? What keeps you from speaking and seeing? Do you want to be blind and dumb? Do you want to die? Is there something in you that says you should d'e, that you deserve to die?

Even if it means that I die, too?"

She reared up out of the chair and walked away, her shoulders straight, neck stiff, her body seeming to vibrates with anger. Since she was familiar with every inch of the walkin space of the tent, she made her way to the bedroom as if she had 20/20 vision.

A few minutes later, he followed her. She was lying on her bed faceup, tears welling. He said softly, "I'm very sorry I yelled at you. I didn't mean what I said, accusing you of wanting to die, I mean. It's just that I'm so frustrated ... and scared. I am human.

Can you forgive me?"

She smiled weakly. Then she held out her anus. He went into them and wrapped his arms around her for a while. She sobbed.

When his back started to ache because he was so bent over, he eased her down onto the bed and straightened up. She reached out, picked up The Little Prince from the bedside table, and held it out to him.

He did not know why the story seemed to console her. Perhaps, she could insert herself into it and forget, for the time being, her own identity and troubles. She might be the sad little boy whom Saint-Exupdry described in such simple but telling language. In a way, the plight of the child prince was hers. He, too, was parentless and lonely and sought a true friend and companionship and was puzzled by the world in which fate had placed him.

Jack was reading to her about the child's encounter with the desert fox when he stopped. He was silent so long that she reached out and tugged at his arm. Looking up from the book, Jack saw her questioning expression.

"I just got an idea!" he said. "From this story!"

She shook her head.

"The fox wants to be tamed by the little prince. But the prince doesn't know how to tame the fox. So ... the fox instructs the prince how to tame him. Don't you see, Tappy! You can teach me what I must do to change you! We'll try, anyway! It might be the way to do it!"

Her hunched shoulders, raised eyebrows, and spread-out hands, palms up, said, "How?"

His enthusiasm propelled him from the chair he had drawn up next to the bed and sent him to pacing back and forth. "Don't know yet. But at least I ... we ... have got something to work on. Let me think."

While he walked, he struck the palm of his left hand with the book. It was as if the hand were iron and the book were flint and he hoped to strike fire from them.

"When we were in the plane, you gave me a piece of paper on which you'd written a word. It was supposed to make me able to disobey Malva's orders over the radio. But it was in Gaol writing.

it had six different characters and two that were repeated. Now.

Listen carefully. Do each of these characters have an equivalent in English speech?"

She frowned.

"I mean ... let's say ... does one of them, for instance, symbolize any single sound in English? Like 'I' as in lend? Like It, as in Tappy? Like 'e' in lend? Or 's' as in seen? Got it?"

The girl nodded.

"Good! "

He looked around but realized that he had not seen any paper or pencils in the tent. He closed his eyes and visualized a sheaf of writing paper and three sharpened pencils. Then he summoned up an image of a knife. He'd have to have something to keep the pencils sharp.

Tappy stirred restlessly. He said, "Be patient."

A minute later, he heard a woman's voice.

"Do not be startled."

He said, "Come in," and an AI walked through the entrance into the bedroom.

He groaned. She was empty-handed.

"We do not have the strange objects you telepathed that you wanted," she said. "What use are they?"

"You can perfo

"We don't have everything," it said. "Especially primitive artifacts. Tell me in detail what you need, their use, their materials."

After his description, it said, "I can't say precisely when I'll be back, but it'll be soon."

It walked out of the bedroom. Curious, Jack followed it into the hall made by drapes. He saw something blurry, like heat waves, appear around it, concealing it. Suddenly, the AI and the wavy envelope were gone.

He had expected a bang of air rushing in to fill the vacuum left by the AI. There was no sound.

He returned to the bedroom. "Tappy," he said, "while we're waiting, I'll tell you more of what we're going to do."

Ten minutes or so later, an AI, a male this time, appeared. Jack and Tappy were deep into the procedure. The AI, not botheringto excuse the interrupt*on, said, "This is not what you asked for.-' the equivalent, though that is not the correct noun. It's better."

It held out two white, flat, thin, and one-foot-wide squares made of what looked like plastic. One side of each was silvery.

After Jack took it, the AI extended to him two silvery objects that looked like a pen. "Pass the end of this across the screen, and it will make what you wish to write on the screen. You don't have to press it against the surface."