But even being a channel, he had to get away from the fear emanatingfrom her or succumb to it and strip her of her selyn. His lastinner resources were depleted.

Half rising, he plunged over the next lower limb of the fallentree, wavered a few more steps, stumbled and fetched up hard againsta greater limb. Stunned, he lay gasping, sweat soaking throughhis trail worn Astrogator's uniform, unaware that he was shakingfrom head to toe with one spasmodic fit after another.

I did it. I got away from her. It's going to be all right now. I did it. Nothing worse can possibly happen. I did it. Bythe time Brian Inikar reached Yone's side, the channel was obliviousto all but that one saving thought. "I did it."

Yone was unaware that he was being tended by a Gen whose expertfingers and analytical eyes had been trained by Distect Simes,conspirators dedicated to destroying the Tecton. He knew onlythat it was a male Gen near him, and so he was safe from thatawful temptation that still lived in him. The Gen who workedon him now knew no fear, so he was safe from that reflex too. This Gen soothed his raw nerves with an emotional nager of compassion,concern, and perhaps a tart bit of criticism which was as it shouldbe. Yone knew he'd behaved abominably.

It was close to an hour before Yone was able to grip the memorythat, here on this forsaken Beacon Planet, on this long trek acrossuncharted wilderness toward an emergency call beacon that mightnot even function, there was no Tecton-trained Gen Donor, no FirstOrder Donor schooled to serve First Order Channels such as YoneFarris. His only Donor was Valyu Alamain, an earnest young manbarely half trained to serve the lowest order channels, and nomatch for Yone's needs. Then who was this Gen?

No sooner had he asked that question than, to his utter horror,he could answer it.

Brian Inikar. Convict. Being transported with his wife and childto the planet of exile where the Tecton sent all Distect conspirators. In the press of minute-to-minute survival after the crash, suchsocial distinctions had lost importance. The six convicts hadsaved many lives, lent aid where needed, but always had the prudenceto keep strictly away from the one and only Sime among the survivors. Too many of the Tecton's most loyal channels had succumbed tothe mysterious lure of the Distect after a brief encounter witha Distect Gen. Nobody knew why.

As if rising from the depths of the blackest ocean, Yone foughthis way toward full consciousness, warding off the aid he hadbeen so gratefully accepting. He knew that Brian's Distect-trainedempathic touch had already saved his life. The Gen's whole nervoussystem had slipped into perfect resonance with Yone's bespeakinga level of skill Yone had not been exposed to for more than fourmonths.

On the edge of full consciousness, Yone fell back, spent. I'dforgotten how good it can be! The Sime uses selyn; the Gen createsit. Without the Gens to supply that energy, the Sime faces thebleak cold death of attrition. During those days when Need grewand his system ached to function, even the channels who storevast quantities of extra selyn look into that cold abyss and knowdeep-diving terrors beyond Gen comprehension. At that time intheir physiologic cycle, the Simes' libido is totally paralyzed,but instantly when Need is satisfied, that paralyzed sensitivityblooms again, the more intense for the hiatus. The cycle is mostpronounced in the higher level channels such as Yone Farris.

Even under Alamain's care, Yone had been ruled by it. Now helooked into a future of alternating tortures – two weeks of theCD's within arm's reach of Livya Jeter, then two weeks of increasingneed within reach of Brian Inikar. But maybe, thought Yone, there'sstill time to break the hold he's got on me.

Meanwhile, Livya Jeter dragged herself away from the limb overwhich Yone had half-fallen, and white with shock, she managedto struggle to her feet. Then Cheryl Inikar, Brian's wife, reachedher side, made her sit for a time with her head between her knees.

As Livya's color returned to its normal, healthy brown, Cherylencouraged her to talk. "Tell it, honey, tell it all. You'llfeel better to get it out." The Inikars were from In Brim,while Livya and her mother were from Port Alon, but they all sprangfrom the same Terran stock – Sime and Gen alike shared the samemind, the mind of Man. The cultural differences were vast, butCheryl might have been for those moments Livya's big sister asshe held her and listened to her stuttering tale.

"I was so frightened! You've no idea how strong a Sime is! He could have crushed my ribs to powder! And I could feel histentacles all over my back, and his tongue ... uhh!"

"Easy Livya, it's over now. Calm down and think. You'rea woman, you ought to be able to tell. You just described howhe was kissing you. Honey, that's not a transfer-contact kindof kiss. He wasn't looking to take selyn from you! He wantedyou to feel that what he was doing was good, but when you respondedwith fear, you undid him. But, Baby, listen, the next time he–"

Livya rose, knees still shaky but forced to lock her upright. The realization of Cheryl's meaning struck a new note of horror. "Ther ... there isn't going to be a next time. What doyou think I am, some sort of prostitute? So maybe he can claimthe Channel's Exemption, but there's no court of law anywherethat could make me! He has no rights over me!"

"He asks no more of you than you have stolen from him!"

"Stolen! You're the one who's the convicted criminal, notme. You're the one who sells your body to any Sime who asks forit! Why don't you go play with him!"

Before Cheryl could deny that rumored Distect behavior, Livyacaught her breath and went on, cold and fiercely brutal. "Ifthat Sime tries to rape me again, so help me I'll kill him."

Cheryl drew breath for a scathing retort, but then let it outwearily. "You won't have to. He's Tecton and Farris. He'llkill himself to keep from touching you against your will. That'swhat your precious Tecton stands for, the sacrifice of the noblestchannels to the whim of the non-Donors."

A new voice joined them "Distect whore!" They bothturned to find Evelyn Jeter picking her way through the branchestoward them. "Get away from my daughter or I'll do the killingshoulda been done to youa year ago!"

Mrs. Jeter wasn't old enough to be called spry, but she stillretained the lean, wiry build of her vanished youth. At first,Cheryl stood her ground, drawn to her full height as if to launchthunderbolts of rage. But then she gathered a cool self-controlaround her and retreated toward the knot of people gathering andcounting themselves beside the top of the tree.

"Mother!" Livya greeted suddenly when they were alone. It just now occurred to her that her mother had been in dangertoo.

"What's this about rape, Liv? Did that Sime get his slimytentacles on you?"

"They're ..." she started, and then tossed a thoughtfulglance toward the screen of leaves that cut her off from the channel,"They're not slimy, Mother." She let herself drop ontothe leaves.

Lost now in a calmer reliving of the incident, Livya didn't answer,just stared round-eyed at the barrier of leaves. What she hadlearned of Simes in school was sparse, but she did know that channelswere a secondary mutation from the Sime type, and required a lotof special handling. That was the province of the highly trainedTechnical Class Donors.

"I'm no Donor, Mother, but –"

"Well, I certainly hope not! Those professional donors arelittle better than prostitutes!"

"Mother, this is no time for hysteria. I have to think!" She rose and took a step toward the wall of leaves, hands claspedtogether at her waist, face contorted with the effort to overcomeher shock and think coherently. "I'm no Donor, but he kepthimself from hurting me."

"Well, that's a relief! Then he didn't actually do it?"