Rimon noticed that Veritt did not zlin them—not even Kadi, who usually drew curious attention. Instead, he invited them into his parlor, offered them tea, and introduced them to his wife and son. Mrs. Veritt said little. She served tea and then disappeared into the kitchen. Only after she'd gone did the conversation turn to the reason Rimon and Kadi were there.

Rimon did most of the talking at first, explaining what he and Kadi had discovered so far. As he answered Veritt's questions, Rimon noticed Jord Veritt, Abel's son, watching in sullen silence. He showed the same effects of good diet and hard outdoor work as his father, and the few times he spoke up—objecting, probing—it was in faintly accented but fluent Simelan—of course, thought Rimon, he'd been born on this side of the border.

Rimon had a sudden insight into lord's status. Kadi had mentioned that one of Veritt's teachings was that if Simes lived "good lives," their children would be Gen. Jord must be regarded as a symbol of his father's failings. And, at the moment, Jord was in need. Small wonder he was so belligerent.

Veritt heard Rimon out. Then he sat back, elbows on the arms of his chair, fingers steepled before him. It was a familiar posture, except that Veritt kept his tentacles sheathed.

Recalling Carlana's apology for displaying her tentacles, Rimon carefully kept his own sheathed. Veritt noted that and nodded approval. Then he asked, "May I have permission to zlin you and your wife, Mr. Farris?"

"Yes, of course," said Rimon. "I was wondering why you hadn't done so already."

"We believe in privacy… and modesty. Although we bear the curse of the Sime nature, it is our goal to turn the Devil's gifts to God's purposes. It would be presumptuous of me to examine your soul without your permission."

"My… soul?" asked Rimon.

"It is the human soul that is reflected in one's nager," said Veritt reasonably. Then he addressed Kadi for the first time, "Mrs. Farris, you are not like the soulless creatures provided here for our need. So—it disturbs me that you choose to ally yourself with a Sime—and yet you have taught him not to kill. I cannot easily judge what you are."

"Zlin me," Kadi invited calmly.

Holding his hands toward Kadi, Veritt said, "Will you forgive me if… ?"

"Mr. Veritt," said Kadi, carefully using his form of address, "I am neither frightened nor offended by the sight– or touch—of tentacles."

"I'm not in need," he reassured her.

"I can see that," she replied evenly.

Considering the way Carlana had delivered the invitation for this specific day, Rimon had known Veritt had timed the interview so that his judgment would be completely unclouded. Kadi had caught that nuance, too. She said, "You killed two or three days ago. It's your son who is in need."

"A witch!" Jord gasped. "Father, these are evil spirits come to tempt us!"

"Silence!" demanded Veritt. "If you can't control yourself, leave us!"

The younger man sat back in his chair, sullen again.

Knowing how one Sime's need could affect another, Kadi rose and placed herself between Jord and his father. As the older Sime held his hands toward Kadi, cautiously extending his laterals, Rimon watched Jord tense. But Kadi only stood quietly, projecting tranquillity.

When Veritt's eyes refocused, he said, "I've never felt a, nager like yours. I can't judge, for I have no basis for comparison."

"I'm no witch. Surely you can tell that."

"I sense no lie in that—but—" He looked from Kadi to Rimon, reserving judgment. "What do you ask of me?"

"Friendship," Rimon answered. "Kadi and I have started a homestead."

"Yes, Mrs. Lodge told me. She's very much impressed with you."

"I like Carlana," said Kadi. "But she seems afraid to be my friend without your permission."

"I am spiritual advisor to this community," explained Veritt. "I won't forbid anyone's friendship with you."

"Father—!" Jord protested.

Veritt fixed him with a cold stare. "I have not that right. However, for the time being, I must forbid my people to experiment with your attempts to avoid killing Gens. I have two reasons for this. The first is practical: you have not proven that you can teach your method to others. Your friend Mr. Erick is in great distress, Mrs. Lodge tells me, because he killed someone who had become his friend."

"True," answered Rimon. "So we're not trying to teach anyone else until we're sure we can do it You have my word."

"My other reservation is more serious, because I can see no way of proving what you are. There are legends of Simes and Gens living together among the gypsies, practicing sorcery. I have never seen this. We drove the gypsies away from our town when I was a child, but there were no Simes among them. On this side of the border I've seen Sime gypsies, never Gens. Yet it's known they indulge in secret practices—and if they do, so may others.

"You don't seem like a sorcerer, Mr. Farris—but the Devil works most effectively through those who seem innocent. God revealed to me many years ago, when I recognized the soulless state of the Gens grown here, that Simes have souls. I amended my life from that day, and have, with God's help, brought hope to the people of Fort Freedom.

"Now you bring a new hope—that it may not be necessary for Simes to kill at all. Is this a new revelation from God? Or is it a false temptation to lead us into the practice of witchcraft? Because I don't know, I'll not forbid your welcome in Fort Freedom. Yet I can't ask you to join our community."

Rimon smiled. "I think you'll soon see we're not sorcerers."

"I shall pray and meditate that God may let me see this matter clearly. Meanwhile, go join your friends."

Del and Carlana were waiting for them at Carlana's home. The Sime woman was delighted with Veritt's decision. As it was very warm, they joined the children in the neatly fenced yard. At one end was a patch of strawberries, a few late berries still ripening. "Why do you let these grow?" asked Kadi. "They're poisonous."

"Not to the children," Carlana replied. "They love them. They're not poisonous to you, either, Kadi. Try some." At Kadi's hesitation, she laughed. "Really—when I was a child, strawberry season was a great time at home. Everybody in the family ate them. I'd no idea they were poisonous to Simes until the people here warned me not to eat them. It seems a lot of new Simes make that mistake– and some of them die from it."

"Yes," Kadi recalled. "One time that Charlie Horvan poisoned himself, it was with strawberries. I guess nobody thought to tell him what everybody knows!"

"And here you have no one to tell you what you can eat, have you, Kadi? There are, oh, certain mushrooms, for instance. Someday we'll go out gathering some, and I'll show you which ones my parents taught me to pick."

Just then Carlana's little boy, Owen, began to cry. His mother darted to his side and picked him up, discovering at once that he was merely frightened at having fallen. He was only two, and his sister Jana, a year younger, was crying in sympathy and tugging at her mother's skirts. Carlana spoke soothingly to the children, but Rimon didn't understand what she said.

When Owen quieted, and Carlana kissed both her children and sent them off to play again, Rimon asked, "You're teaching your children the Gen language?"

"Yes—both languages," Carlana replied. "It's a difficult fact: I want my children to be real people—Gens. But if they are, they will cross the border, and I'll never see them again. If they change over, though, they'll have to kill to survive. I don't want that for my children!"

"Carlana," said Kadi, "by that time, surely we'll have learned how all Simes and Gens can live as Rimon and I do. And then it won't matter. It simply won't matter anymore if a child changes over or establishes."