On his first night in this room he had asked them, challenging and curious, “What are you going to do with, me?” He knew now what they had done with him. Chifoilisk had told him the simple fact. They owned him. He had thought to bargain with them, a very naive anarchist’s notion. The individual cannot bargain with the State. The State recognizes no coinage but power: and it issues the coins itself,

He saw now — in detail, item by item from the beginning — that he had made a mistake in coming to Unas; his first big mistake, and one that was likely to last him the rest of his life. Once he had seen it, once he had rehearsed all the evidences of it that he had suppressed and denied for months — and it took him a long time, sitting there motionless at his desk — until he had arrived at the ludicrous and abominable last scene with Vea, and had lived through that again too, and felt his face go hot until his ears sang: then he was done with it. Even in this postalcoholic vale of tears, he felt no guilt. That was all done, now, and what must be thought about was, what must he do now? Having locked himself in jail, how might he act as a free man?

He would not do physics for the politicians. That was1 clear, now.

If he stopped working, would they let him go home?

At this, he drew a long breath and raised his head, looking with unseeing eyes at the sunlit green landscape out the window. It was the first time he had let himself think of going home as a genuine possibility. The thought threatened to break down the gates and flood him with urgent yearning. To speak Pravic, to speak to friends, to see Takver, Pilun, Sadik, to touch the dust of Anarres…

They would not let him go. He had not paid his way. Nor could he Jet himself go; give up and run.

As he sat at the desk in the bright morning sunlight he brought his hands down against the edge of the desk deliberately and sharply, twice, three times; his face was calm and appeared thoughtful.

“Where do I go?” he said aloud.

A knock oil the door. Efor came in with a breakfast tray and the morning papers. “Come in at six usual but catching up your sleep,” he observed, setting out the tray with admirable deftness.

“I got drunk last night,” Shevek said.

“Beautiful while it lasts,” said Efor. “That be all, sir? Very well,” and he exited with the same deftness, bowing on the way to Pae, who entered as he left. ”

“Didn’t mean to barge in on your breakfast! On my way back from chapel, just thought I’d look in.”

“Sit down. Have some chocolate.” Shevek was unable to eat unless Pae made some pretense at least of eating with him, Pae took a honey roll and crumbled it about on a plate. Shevek still felt rather shaky but very hungry now, and attacked his breakfast with energy. Pae seemed to find it harder than usual to start conversation.

“You’re still getting this trash?” he asked at last in an amused tone, touching the folded newspapers Efor had set on the table.

“Efor brings them.”

“Does he?”

“I asked him to,” Shevek said, glancing at Pae, a split-second reconnoitering glance. “They broaden my comprehension of your country. I take an interest in your lower classes. Most Anarresti came from the lower classes,”

“Yes, of course,” the younger man said, looking respectful and nodding. He ate a small bite of honey roll. “I think I’d like a drop of that chocolate after all,” he said, and rang the bell on the tray. Efor appeared at the door. “Another cup,” Pae said without turning. “Well, sir, we’d looked forward to taking you about again, now the weather’s turning fine, and showing you more of the country. Even a visit abroad, perhaps. But this damned war has put an end to all such plans, I’m afraid.” Shevek looked at the headline of the topmost paper:

“There’s later news than that on the telefax,” Pae said. “We’ve liberated the capital. General Havevert will be reinstalled.”

“Then the war is over?”

“Not while Thu still holds the two eastern provinces.”

“I see. So your,army and Thu’s army will fight in Benbili. But not here?”

“No, no. It would be utter folly for them to invade us, or us them. We’ve outgrown the kind of barbarism that used to bring war into the heart of the high civilizations! The balance of power is kept by this kind of police action. However, we are officially at war. So all the tiresome old restrictions win come into effect, I’m afraid.”

“Restrictions?”

“Classification of research done in the College of Noble Science, for one thing. Nothing to it, really, just a government rubber stamp. And sometimes a delay getting a paper published, when the higher-ups think it must be dangerous because they don’t understand ill… And travel’s a bit limited, especially for you and the other non-nationals here, I’m afraid. So long as the state of war lasts, you’re not actually supposed to leave the campus, I believe, without clearance from the Chancellor. But pay no attention to that. I can get you out of here whenever you like without going through all the rigmarole.”

“You hold the keys,” Shevek said, with an ingenuous smile.

“Oh, I’m an absolute specialist in it. I love getting around rules and outwitting the authorities. Perhaps I’m a natural anarchist, eh? Where the devil is that old fool I sent for a cup?”

“He must go down to the kitchens to get one.”

“Needn’t take half the day about it. Well, I won’t wait. Don’t want to take up what’s left of your morning. By the way, did you see the latest Bulletin of the Space Research Foundation? They print Reumere’s plans for the ansible.”

“What is the ansible?”

“It’s what he’s calling an instantaneous communication device. He says if the temporaliste — that’s you, of course • — wifl just work out the time-inertia equations, the engineers — that’s him — will be able to build the damned thing, test it, and thus incidentally prove the validity of the theory, within months or weeks.”

“Engineers are themselves proof of the existence of causal reversibility. You see Reumere has his effect built before I have provided the cause.” He smiled again, rather less ingenuously. When Fae had shut the door behind himself, Shevek suddenly stood up. “You filthy profiteering liarl he said in Pravic, white with rage, his hands clenched to keep them from picking something up and throwing It after Pae.

Efor came in carrying a cup and saucer on a tray. He stopped short, looking apprehensive.

“It’s all right, Efor. He didn’t — He didn’t want the cup. You can take it all now.”

“Very good, sir.”

“Listen. I should like no visitors, for a while. Can you keep them out?”

“Easy sir. Anybody special?”

“Yes, him. Anybody. Say I am working.”

“He’ll be glad to hear that, air,” Efor said, his wrinkles melting with malice for an instant; then with respectful familiarity, “Nobody you don’t want get past me,” and finally with formal propriety, “Thank you, sir, and good morning.”

Food, and adrenalin, had dispelled Shevek’s paralysis. He walked up and down the room, irritable and restless. He wanted to act He had spent nearly a year now doing nothing, except being a fool. It was time he did something.

Well, what had he come here to do?

To do physics. To assert, by his talent, the rights of any citizen in any society: the right to work, to be maintained •while working, and to share the product with all who wanted it The rights of an Odonian and of a human being.

His benevolent and protective hosts let him work, and maintained him while working, all right The problem came on the third limb. But he himself had not got there yet. He had not done his job. He couldn’t share what he didn’t have.

He went back to the desk, sat down, and took a couple of scraps of heavily scribbled paper out of the least accessible and least useful pocket of his tight-fitting, stylish trousers. He spread these scraps out with his fingers and looked at them. It occurred to him that he was getting to be like Sabul, writing very small, in abbreviations, on shreds of paper. He knew now why Sabul did it: he was possessive and secretive. A psychopathy on Anarres was rational behavior on Urras.