First Channel

"You think she was cheated?"

"Worse than that. He's sick—and it's spreading through the Pens. We lost three already, and if we can't stop it, well—look at the snow comin' down. You may not need our stock, but everyone else does, and—"

"It's all right, Risko," said Rimon. "I'll come and do whatever I can. Kadi, Jon—you come along and—no, you might catch it. You go to Fort Freedom and tell Jord to come help me."

"Slina's already gone to ask Abel Veritt for help," said Risko. "We heard his son's a healer, like you."

"He'll help," said Rimon. "Everyone in Fort Freedom who can do anything will."

It was not only that they needed Gens to survive; it was that they knew full well that if the Simes in the little border town were shorted, they'd have .no qualms about hunting across the border—and right across the border was the community where Fort Freedom sent their established children.

When Rimon reached Slina's, three wagons were just pulling away—Simes stocking up on Gens with an eye on the gathering storm. Inside, Rimon found both Abel and Jord in the office, Willa at Jord's side.

"Willa, it's a Gen illness," Rimon told her. "You mustn't stay here—see, I didn't even bring Kadi."

Jord shifted closer to his wife, his stance tense. "Willa stays with me. I say where she goes."

"Jord—" started Rimon.

But Slina interrupted. "Willa had this one couple years ago. Anyways, one like to it."

"You know what it is, then?" asked Rimon.

"Gotta be just a bad kind of Reloc fever."

"Shen!" Reloc fever had been known to wipe out whole Pens.

Slina said, "If I can't do somethin' awful fast—"

"Now calm down, Slina," said Abel. "You've only had five cases, and we've got them isolated."

She glanced at him, but said to Rimon, "I picked up a bargain with a Farris brand—now, I ain't blamin' your dad, understand—I always did suspect it was a forgery, but it was a good buy. Big, healthy out-Territory male, and hung like a bull. Figured to expand my operation, breed the wild 'un to some of my best stock like them fancy outfits do."

Rimon nodded, his mind on the problem of Reloc fever loose where Kadi might encounter it—or Zeth. "It's not your fault, Slina. If his papers didn't indicate he'd been through Reloc, why would you suspect anything?"

"I did quarantine him. The day after I let him out—he falls down sick, and six days later I've got two pregnant females down with it, and two pre-Gens down a couple days later."

"Pregnant females?" asked Rimon.

"Yeah. May as well write 'em off as a complete loss." Slina was gloomier than Rimon had ever seen her, but he put it down to turnover.

"They're worth fighting for, Slina. Once in a while, you can beat even Reloc fever."

"Let's take a look at the victims," said Veritt.

Slina picked up her giant keys and led the way across the court yard to the small infirmary set apart from the Pens. As they walked, Rimon said, "What are you doing breeding Gens at this time of year?"

"You think I want them delivering at this time of year?

There's no late winter without some kind of illness in the Pens, so I don't want susceptible—unsellable—newborns around then."

Without thinking, Rimon quoted his father, "It's cheaper to lose a newborn than a good breeder. Besides, in the infant house you can isolate them from—"

"I can't afford no infant house, Rimon! I—" Slina cut off, flicking a glance at Jord and Abel behind them, and Rimon became aware of the utter horror Jord was righting down, the weary but sick feeling in Abel as they listened to the calm discussion between two Gendealers. Rimon shook his head ruefully as he held the outer door open while Slina fitted her keys into the massive lock on the i

Inside, they found a small room with three beds. Two of the victims lay listlessly, staring at the ceiling. They were young boys, probably about to establish within the next few months. The third bed. in the room was wrapped about with a strong though murky field.

"This must be the one," said Rimon. The Gen was a large full-grown man who slept fitfully, turning with a soft moan as Rimon approached. There was the briefest glimpse of the diagonal notch filed in his front tooth—the mark of prime Farris stock.

Rimon inspected the Gen, zli

How quickly it all comes back, he thought, shocked at himself. Secretly, he was glad Kadi wasn't here to listen– though she'd heard the like all her life.

Slina shook her head."'Anytime you want a job, Rimon—"

"Not me! I'm in the business of saving Gen lives now. But you're doing a great job ru

With a sigh, she twitched the covers off the Gen to display the characteristic rash of Reloc fever. "He's been slow coming down with it," she said. "Just showed the rash this morning."

Just then, the man tossed restlessly, his movement wakening the characteristic headache of the fever. Rimon and Jord winced at the pain and went into healing mode together, while Abel stepped back behind them. Slina seemed unaffected. After all, she was accustomed to Gen pain.

The Gen's eyes came open, fever-bright and unfocused.

"Where—who are you?" he asked in a raspy whisper.

Rimon had learned enough of the Gen language at Fort Freedom to answer. "I'm Rimon Farris. You're ill, but we know how to cure you."

The man's eyes slid past Rimon to the others and came into focus, memory returning. As weak as he was, he drew away from Rimon and said more clearly, "Get away from me!" The spirit was definitely there when he was awake. Prime kill—or prime transfer partner?

Rimon moved back a step, holding his hands out, tentacles sheathed, and then putting them firmly behind his back. He watched the Gen assessing that move, but Slina said, in Simelan, "Rimon! Don't let him think he can have his way—you know what'll happen!"

"Let me try this experiment," he said. "You can always take him—he's not going to get away from us!"

She stood back warily and let Rimon proceed. He waited until the weakened Gen could not hold up his head anymore, and said, "We're here to help you."

"For what! To get sold again? To get killed? You just try it, I'll—" He collapsed in a coughing fit.

Then Rimon said, "You ready to take some medicine now?"

"No—I'd rather die. Cheat this stinkin' place outa—" He began coughing again.

Abel said from the back of the group, "You don't really want to die. God doesn't expect us to give up—you have no idea why God sent you here at this time. Tell him, Rimon."

"God!" said the Gen. "What do you know of God!"

"We pray," said Abel, "just as we did when we were children. Our faith is always rewarded."

The Gen made the effort to raise his head and focus his eyes on Abel. "Church of the Purity? Here?"

"After our own fashion," said Abel, with a humility Rimon had seldom seen in the older man.

"Let me try," said Jord, moving forward with Willa. "Look at me," he commanded, taking Willa's hand and holding out her arm so the man could see clearly she was Gen. "There are some of us who don't kill, and others who are learning not to. You can be as safe here as Willa is—and Willa's my wife."

"Drugged!" scoffed the Gen.

"No," denied Jord calmly. In Simelan, he said to Willa, "Would you like to help this man get well?"

She nodded vigorously and said in Simelan, "Yes, Jord, what should we do?"

The Gen wiped beads of sweat from his forehead, his arm falling heavily back to the mattress. "God, what a dream! She's talkin' their lingo! Won't I ever wake up?"