_THE MOON IS GREEN_

By FRITZ LEIBER

Illustrated by DAVID STONE

 _Anybody who wanted to escape death could, by paying a very simple price--denial of life!_

"Effie! What the devil are you up to?"

Her husband's voice, chopping through her mood of terrified rapture, made her heart jump like a startled cat, yet by some miracle of feminineself-control her body did not show a tremor. 

_Dear God_, she thought, _he mustn't see it. It's so beautiful, and healways kills beauty. _

"I'm just looking at the Moon, " she said listlessly. "It's green. "

_Mustn't, mustn't see it. _ And now, with luck, he wouldn't. For theface, as if it also heard and sensed the menace in the voice, wasmoving back from the window's glow into the outside dark, but slowly, reluctantly, and still faunlike, pleading, cajoling, tempting, andincredibly beautiful. 

"Close the shutters at once, you little fool, and come away from thewindow!"

"Green as a beer bottle, " she went on dreamily, "green as emeralds, green as leaves with sunshine striking through them and green grass tolie on. " She couldn't help saying those last words. They were her tokento the face, even though it couldn't hear. 

"Effie!"

She knew what that last tone meant. Wearily she swung shut the ponderouslead inner shutters and drove home the heavy bolts. That hurt herfingers; it always did, but he mustn't know that. 

"You know that those shutters are not to be touched! Not for five moreyears at least!"

"I only wanted to look at the Moon, " she said, turning around, and thenit was all gone--the face, the night, the Moon, the magic--and she wasback in the grubby, stale little hole, facing an angry, stale littleman. It was then that the eternal thud of the air-conditioning fans andthe crackle of the electrostatic precipitators that sieved out the dustreached her consciousness again like the bite of a dentist's drill. 

"Only wanted to look at the Moon!" he mimicked her in falsetto. "Onlywanted to die like a little fool and make me that much more ashamed ofyou!" Then his voice went gruff and professional. "Here, countyourself. "

She silently took the Geiger counter he held at arm's length, waiteduntil it settled down to a steady ticking slower than a clock--due onlyto cosmic rays and indicating nothing dangerous--and then began to combher body with the instrument. First her head and shoulders, then outalong her arms and back along their under side. There was somethingoddly voluptuous about her movements, although her features were grayand sagging. 

The ticking did not change its tempo until she came to her waist. Thenit suddenly spurted, clicking faster and faster. Her husband gave anexcited grunt, took a quick step forward, froze. She goggled for amoment in fear, then grinned foolishly, dug in the pocket of her grimyapron and guiltily pulled out a wristwatch. 

He grabbed it as it dangled from her fingers, saw that it had a radiumdial, cursed, heaved it up as if to smash it on the floor, but insteadput it carefully on the table. 

"You imbecile, you incredible imbecile, " he softly chanted to himselfthrough clenched teeth, with eyes half closed. 

She shrugged faintly, put the Geiger counter on the table, and stoodthere slumped. 

He waited until the chanting had soothed his anger, before speakingagain. He said quietly, "I do suppose you still realize the sort ofworld you're living in?"

 * * * * *

She nodded slowly, staring at nothingness. Oh, she realized, all right, realized only too well. It was the world that hadn't realized. The worldthat had gone on stockpiling hydrogen bombs. The world that had putthose bombs in cobalt shells, although it had promised it wouldn't, because the cobalt made them much more terrible and cost no more. Theworld that had started throwing those bombs, always telling itself thatit hadn't thrown enough of them yet to make the air really dangerouswith the deadly radioactive dust that came from the cobalt. Thrown themand kept on throwing until the danger point, where air and ground wouldbecome fatal to all human life, was approached. 

Then, for about a month, the two great enemy groups had hesitated. Andthen each, unknown to the other, had decided it could risk one lastgigantic and decisive attack without exceeding the danger point. It hadbeen planned to strip off the cobalt cases, but someone forgot and thenthere wasn't time. Besides, the military scientists of each group wereconfident that the lands of the other had got the most dust. The twoattacks came within an hour of each other. 

After that, the Fury. The Fury of doomed men who think only of takingwith them as many as possible of the enemy, and in this case--theyhoped--all. The Fury of suicides who know they have botched up life forgood. The Fury of cocksure men who realize they have been outsmarted byfate, the enemy, and themselves, and know that they will never be ableto improvise a defense when arraigned before the high court ofhistory--and whose unadmitted hope is that there will be no high courtof history left to arraign them. More cobalt bombs were dropped duringthe Fury than in all the preceding years of the war. 

After the Fury, the Terror. Men and women with death sifting into theirbones through their nostrils and skin, fighting for bare survival undera dust-hazed sky that played fantastic tricks with the light of Sun andMoon, like the dust from Krakatoa that drifted around the world foryears. Cities, countryside, and air were alike poisoned, alive withdeadly radiation. 

The only realistic chance for continued existence was to retire, for thefive or ten years the radiation would remain deadly, to some well-sealedand radiation-shielded place that must also be copiously supplied withfood, water, power, and a means of air-conditioning. 

Such places were prepared by the far-seeing, seized by the stronger, defended by them in turn against the desperate hordes of the dying . .. Until there were no more of those. 

After that, only the waiting, the enduring. A mole's existence, withoutbeauty or tenderness, but with fear and guilt as constant companions. Never to see the Sun, to walk among the trees--or even know if therewere still trees. 

Oh, yes, she realized what the world was like. 

 * * * * *

"You understand, too, I suppose, that we were allowed to reclaim thisground-level apartment only because the Committee believed us to beresponsible people, and because I've been making a damn good showinglately?"

"Yes, Hank. "

"I thought you were eager for privacy. You want to go back to thebasement tenements?"

_God, no! Anything rather than that fetid huddling, that shamelesscommunal sprawl. And yet, was this so much better? The nearness to thesurface was meaningless; it only tantalized. And the privacy magnifiedHank. _

She shook her head dutifully and said, "No, Hank. "

"Then why aren't you careful? I've told you a million times, Effie, thatglass is no protection against the dust that's outside that window. Thelead shutter must never be touched! If you make one single slip likethat and it gets around, the Committee will send us back to the lowerlevels without blinking an eye. And they'll think twice before trustingme with any important jobs. "

"I'm sorry, Hank. "

"Sorry? What's the good of being sorry? The only thing that counts isnever to make a slip! Why the devil do you do such things, Effie? Whatdrives you to it?"

She swallowed. "It's just that it's so dreadful being cooped up likethis, " she said hesitatingly, "shut away from the sky and the Sun. I'mjust hungry for a little beauty. "

"And do you suppose I'm not?" he demanded. "Don't you suppose I want toget outside, too, and be carefree and have a good time? But I'm not sodamn selfish about it. I want my children to enjoy the Sun, and mychildren's children. Don't you see that that's the all-important thingand that we have to behave like mature adults and make sacrifices forit?"

"Yes, Hank. "

He surveyed her slumped figure, her lined and listless face. "You're afine one to talk about hunger for beauty, " he told her. Then his voicegrew softer, more deliberate. "You haven't forgotten, have you, Effie, that until last month the Committee was so concerned about yoursterility? That they were about to enter my name on the list of thosewaiting to be allotted a free woman? Very high on the list, too!"

She could nod even at that one, but not while looking at him. She turnedaway. She knew very well that the Committee was justified in worryingabout the birth rate. When the community finally moved back to thesurface again, each additional healthy young person would be an asset, not only in the struggle for bare survival, but in the resumed waragainst Communism which some of the Committee members still counted on. 

It was natural that they should view a sterile woman with disfavor, andnot only because of the waste of her husband's germ-plasm, but becausesterility might indicate that she had suffered more than the averagefrom radiation. In that case, if she did bear children later on, theywould be more apt to carry a defective heredity, producing an unduenumber of monsters and freaks in future generations, and socontaminating the race. 

Of course she understood it. She could hardly remember the time when shedidn't. Years ago? Centuries? There wasn't much difference in a placewhere time was endless. 

 * * * * *

His lecture finished, her husband smiled and grew almost cheerful. 

"Now that you're going to have a child, that's all in the backgroundagain. Do you know, Effie, that when I first came in, I had some verygood news for you? I'm to become a member of the Junior Committee andthe announcement will be made at the banquet tonight. " He cut short hermumbled congratulations. "So brighten yourself up and put on your bestdress. I want the other Juniors to see what a handsome wife the newmember has got. " He paused. "Well, get a move on!"

She spoke with difficulty, still not looking at him. "I'm terriblysorry, Hank, but you'll have to go alone. I'm not well. "

He straightened up with an indignant jerk. "There you go again! Firstthat infantile, inexcusable business of the shutters, and now this! Nofeeling for my reputation at all. Don't be ridiculous, Effie. You'recoming!"

"Terribly sorry, " she repeated blindly, "but I really can't. I'd just besick. I wouldn't make you proud of me at all. "

"Of course you won't, " he retorted sharply. "As it is, I have to spendhalf my energy running around making excuses for you--why you're so odd, why you always seem to be ailing, why you're always stupid and snobbishand say the wrong thing. But tonight's really important, Effie. It willcause a lot of bad comment if the new member's wife isn't present. Youknow how just a hint of sickness starts the old radiation-disease rumorgoing. You've _got_ to come, Effie. "

She shook her head helplessly. 

"Oh, for heaven's sake, come on!" he shouted, advancing on her. "This isjust a silly mood. As soon as you get going, you'll snap out of it. There's nothing really wrong with you at all. "

He put his hand on her shoulder to turn her around, and at his touch herface suddenly grew so desperate and gray that for a moment he wasalarmed in spite of himself. 

"Really?" he asked, almost with a note of concern. 

She nodded miserably. 

"Hmm!" He stepped back and strode about irresolutely. "Well, of course, if that's the way it is . .. " He checked himself and a sad smile crossedhis face. "So you don't care enough about your old husband's success tomake one supreme effort in spite of feeling bad?"

Again the helpless headshake. "I just can't go out tonight, under anycircumstances. " And her gaze stole toward the lead shutters. 

He was about to say something when he caught the direction of her gaze. His eyebrows jumped. For seconds he stared at her incredulously, as ifsome completely new and almost unbelievable possibility had popped intohis mind. The look of incredulity slowly faded, to be replaced by aharder, more calculating expression. But when he spoke again, his voicewas shockingly bright and kind. 

"Well, it can't be helped naturally, and I certainly wouldn't want youto go if you weren't able to enjoy it. So you hop right into bed and geta good rest. I'll run over to the men's dorm to freshen up. No, really, I don't want you to have to make any effort at all. Incidentally, JimBarnes isn't going to be able to come to the banquet either--touch ofthe old 'flu, he tells me, of all things. "

He watched her closely as he mentioned the other man's name, but shedidn't react noticeably. In fact, she hardly seemed to be hearing hischatter. 

"I got a bit sharp with you, I'm afraid, Effie, " he continuedcontritely. "I'm sorry about that. I was excited about my new job and Iguess that was why things upset me. Made me feel let down when I foundyou weren't feeling as good as I was. Selfish of me. Now you get intobed right away and get well. Don't worry about me a bit. I know you'dcome if you possibly could. And I know you'll be thinking about me. Well, I must be off now. "

He started toward her, as if to embrace her, then seemed to think betterof it. He turned back at the doorway and said, emphasizing the words, "You'll be completely alone for the next four hours. " He waited for hernod, then bounced out. 

 * * * * *

She stood still until his footsteps died away. Then she straightened up, walked over to where he'd put down the wristwatch, picked it up andsmashed it hard on the floor. The crystal shattered, the case flewapart, and something went _zing!_

She stood there breathing heavily. Slowly her sagged features lifted, formed themselves into the beginning of a smile. She stole another lookat the shutters. The smile became more definite. She felt her hair, wether fingers and ran them along her hairline and back over her ears. After wiping her hands on her apron, she took it off. She straightenedher dress, lifted her head with a little flourish, and stepped smartlytoward the window. 

Then her face went miserable again and her steps slowed. 

No, it couldn't be, and it won't be, she told herself. It had been justan illusion, a silly romantic dream that she had somehow projected outof her beauty-starved mind and given a moment's false reality. Therecouldn't be anything alive outside. There hadn't been for two wholeyears. 

And if there conceivably were, it would be something altogetherhorrible. She remembered some of the pariahs--hairless, witlesscreatures, with radiation welts crawling over their bodies like worms, who had come begging for succor during the last months of theTerror--and been shot down. How they must have hated the people inrefuges!

But even as she was thinking these things, her fingers were caressingthe bolts, gingerly drawing them, and she was opening the shuttersgently, apprehensively. 

No, there couldn't be anything outside, she assured herself wryly, peering out into the green night. Even her fears had been groundless. 

But the face came floating up toward the window. She started back interror, then checked herself. 

For the face wasn't horrible at all, only very thin, with full lips andlarge eyes and a thin proud nose like the jutting beak of a bird. And noradiation welts or scars marred the skin, olive in the temperedmoonlight. It looked, in fact, just as it had when she had seen it thefirst time. 

For a long moment the face stared deep, deep into her brain. Then thefull lips smiled and a half-clenched, thin-fingered hand materializeditself from the green darkness and rapped twice on the grimy pane. 

Her heart pounding, she furiously worked the little crank that openedthe window. It came unstuck from the frame with a tiny explosion of dustand a _zing_ like that of the watch, only louder. A moment later itswung open wide and a puff of incredibly fresh air caressed her face andthe inside of her nostrils, stinging her eyes with unanticipated tears. 

The man outside balanced on the sill, crouching like a faun, head high, one elbow on knee. He was dressed in scarred, snug trousers and an oldsweater. 

"Is it tears I get for a welcome?" he mocked her gently in a musicalvoice. "Or are those only to greet God's own breath, the air?"

 * * * * *

He swung down inside and now she could see he was tall. Turning, hesnapped his fingers and called, "Come, puss. "

A black cat with a twisted stump of a tail and feet like small boxinggloves and ears almost as big as rabbits' hopped clumsily in view. Helifted it down, gave it a pat. Then, nodding familiarly to Effie, heunstrapped a little pack from his back and laid it on the table. 

She couldn't move. She even found it hard to breathe. 

"The window, " she finally managed to get out. 

He looked at her inquiringly, caught the direction of her stabbingfinger. Moving without haste, he went over and closed it carelessly. 

"The shutters, too, " she told him, but he ignored that, looking around. 

"It's a snug enough place you and your man have, " he commented. "Or isit that this is a free-love town or a harem spot, or just a militarypost?" He checked her before she could answer. "But let's not betalking about such things now. Soon enough I'll be scared to death forboth of us. Best enjoy the kick of meeting, which is always good fortwenty minutes at the least. " He smiled at her rather shyly. "Have youfood? Good, then bring it. "

She set cold meat and some precious canned bread before him and hadwater heating for coffee. Before he fell to, he shredded a chunk of meatand put it on the floor for the cat, which left off its sniffinginspection of the walls and ran up eagerly mewing. Then the man began toeat, chewing each mouthful slowly and appreciatively. 

From across the table Effie watched him, drinking in his every deftmovement, his every cryptic quirk of expression. She attended to makingthe coffee, but that took only a moment. Finally she could containherself no longer. 

"What's it like up there?" she asked breathlessly. "Outside, I mean. "

He looked at her oddly for quite a space. Finally, he said flatly, "Oh, it's a wonderland for sure, more amazing than you tombed folk could everimagine. A veritable fairyland. " And he quickly went on eating. 

"No, but really, " she pressed. 

Noting her eagerness, he smiled and his eyes filled with playfultenderness. "I mean it, on my oath, " he assured her. "You think thebombs and the dust made only death and ugliness. That was true at first. But then, just as the doctors foretold, they changed the life in theseeds and loins that were brave enough to stay. Wonders bloomed andwalked. " He broke off suddenly and asked, "Do any of you ever ventureoutside?"

"A few of the men are allowed to, " she told him, "for short trips inspecial protective suits, to hunt for canned food and fuels andbatteries and things like that. "

"Aye, and those blind-souled slugs would never see anything but whatthey're looking for, " he said, nodding bitterly. "They'd never see thegarden where a dozen buds blossom where one did before, and the flowershave petals a yard across, with stingless bees big as sparrows gentlysupping their nectar. Housecats grown spotted and huge as leopards (notlittle runts like Joe Louis here) stalk through those gardens. Butthey're gentle beasts, no more harmful than the rainbow-scaled snakesthat glide around their paws, for the dust burned all the murder out ofthem, as it burned itself out. 

"I've even made up a little poem about that. It starts, 'Fire can hurtme, or water, or the weight of Earth. But the dust is my friend. ' Oh, yes, and then the robins like cockatoos and squirrels like a princess'sermine! All under a treasure chest of Sun and Moon and stars that thedust's magic powder changes from ruby to emerald and sapphire andamethyst and back again. Oh, and then the new children--"

"You're telling the truth?" she interrupted him, her eyes brimming withtears. "You're not making it up?"

"I am not, " he assured her solemnly. "And if you could catch a glimpseof one of the new children, you'd never doubt me again. They have longlimbs as brown as this coffee would be if it had lots of fresh cream init, and smiling delicate faces and the whitish teeth and the finesthair. They're so nimble that I--a sprightly man and somewhat enlivenedby the dust--feel like a cripple beside them. And their thoughts dancelike flames and make me feel a very imbecile. 

"Of course, they have seven fingers on each hand and eight toes on eachfoot, but they're the more beautiful for that. They have large pointedears that the Sun shines through. They play in the garden, all day long, slipping among the great leaves and blooms, but they're so swift thatyou can hardly see them, unless one chooses to stand still and look atyou. For that matter, you have to look a bit hard for all these thingsI'm telling you. "

"But it is true?" she pleaded. 

"Every word of it, " he said, looking straight into her eyes. He put downhis knife and fork. "What's your name?" he asked softly. "Mine'sPatrick. "

"Effie, " she told him. 

He shook his head. "That can't be, " he said. Then his face brightened. "Euphemia, " he exclaimed. "That's what Effie is short for. Your name isEuphemia. " As he said that, looking at her, she suddenly felt beautiful. He got up and came around the table and stretched out his hand towardher. 

"Euphemia--" he began. 

"Yes?" she answered huskily, shrinking from him a little, but looking upsideways, and very flushed. 

"Don't either of you move, " Hank said. 

The voice was flat and nasal because Hank was wearing a nose respiratorthat was just long enough to suggest an elephant's trunk. In his righthand was a large blue-black automatic pistol. 

 * * * * *

They turned their faces to him. Patrick's was abruptly alert, shifty. But Effie's was still smiling tenderly, as if Hank could not break thespell of the magic garden and should be pitied for not knowing aboutit. 

"You little--" Hank began with an almost gleeful fury, calling herseveral shameful names. He spoke in short phrases, closing tight hisunmasked mouth between them while he sucked in breath through therespirator. His voice rose in a crescendo. "And not with a man of thecommunity, but a pariah! _A pariah!_"

"I hardly know what you're thinking, man, but you're quite wrong, "Patrick took the opportunity to put in hurriedly, conciliatingly. "Ijust happened to be coming by hungry tonight, a lonely tramp, andknocked at the window. Your wife was a bit foolish and letkindheartedness get the better of prudence--"

"Don't think you've pulled the wool over my eyes, Effie, " Hank went onwith a screechy laugh, disregarding the other man completely. "Don'tthink I don't know why you're suddenly going to have a child after fourlong years. "

At that moment the cat came nosing up to his feet. Patrick watched himnarrowly, shifting his weight forward a little, but Hank only kicked theanimal aside without taking his eyes off them. 

"Even that business of carrying the wristwatch in your pocket instead ofon your arm, " he went on with channeled hysteria. "A neat bit ofcamouflage, Effie. Very neat. And telling me it was my child, when allthe while you've been seeing him for months!"

"Man, you're mad; I've not touched her!" Patrick denied hotly thoughstill calculatingly, and risked a step forward, stopping when the guninstantly swung his way. 

"Pretending you were going to give me a healthy child, " Hank raved on, "when all the while you knew it would be--either in body or germplasm--a thing like _that_!"

He waved his gun at the malformed cat, which had leaped to the top ofthe table and was eating the remains of Patrick's food, though itswatchful green eyes were fixed on Hank. 

"I should shoot him down!" Hank yelled, between sobbing, chest-rackinginhalations through the mask. "I should kill him this instant for thecontaminated pariah he is!"

All this while Effie had not ceased to smile compassionately. Now shestood up without haste and went to Patrick's side. Disregarding hiswarning, apprehensive glance, she put her arm lightly around him andfaced her husband. 

"Then you'd be killing the bringer of the best news we've ever had, " shesaid, and her voice was like a flood of some warm sweet liquor in thatmusty, hate-charged room. "Oh, Hank, forget your silly, wrong jealousyand listen to me. Patrick here has something wonderful to tell us. "

 * * * * *

Hank stared at her. For once he screamed no reply. It was obvious thathe was seeing for the first time how beautiful she had become, and thatthe realization jolted him terribly. 

"What do you mean?" he finally asked unevenly, almost fearfully. 

"I mean that we no longer need to fear the dust, " she said, and now hersmile was radiant. "It never really did hurt people the way the doctorssaid it would. Remember how it was with me, Hank, the exposure I had andrecovered from, although the doctors said I wouldn't at first--andwithout even losing my hair? Hank, those who were brave enough to stayoutside, and who weren't killed by terror and suggestion and panic--theyadapted to the dust. They changed, but they changed for the better. Everything--"

"Effie, he told you lies!" Hank interrupted, but still in that sameagitated, broken voice, cowed by her beauty. 

"Everything that grew or moved was purified, " she went on ringingly. "You men going outside have never seen it, because you've never had eyesfor it. You've been blinded to beauty, to life itself. And now all thepower in the dust has gone and faded, anyway, burned itself out. That'strue, isn't it?"

She smiled at Patrick for confirmation. His face was strangely veiled, as if he were calculating obscure changes. He might have given a littlenod; at any rate, Effie assumed that he did, for she turned back to herhusband. 

"You see, Hank? We can all go out now. We need never fear the dustagain. Patrick is a living proof of that, " she continued triumphantly, standing straighter, holding him a little tighter. "Look at him. Not ascar or a sign, and he's been out in the dust for years. How could he bethis way, if the dust hurt the brave? Oh, believe me, Hank! Believe whatyou see. Test it if you want. Test Patrick here. "

"Effie, you're all mixed up. You don't know--" Hank faltered, butwithout conviction of any sort. 

"Just test him, " Effie repeated with utter confidence, ignoring--noteven noticing--Patrick's warning nudge. 

"All right, " Hank mumbled. He looked at the stranger dully. "Can youcount?" he asked. 

Patrick's face was a complete enigma. Then he suddenly spoke, and hisvoice was like a fencer's foil--light, bright, alert, constantlyplaying, yet utterly on guard. 

"Can I count? Do you take me for a complete simpleton, man? Of course Ican count!"

"Then count yourself, " Hank said, barely indicating the table. 

"Count myself, should I?" the other retorted with a quick facetiouslaugh. "Is this a kindergarten? But if you want me to, I'm willing. " Hisvoice was rapid. "I've two arms, and two legs, that's four. And tenfingers and ten toes--you'll take my word for them?--that's twenty-four. A head, twenty-five. And two eyes and a nose and a mouth--"

"With this, I mean, " Hank said heavily, advanced to the table, picked upthe Geiger counter, switched it on, and handed it across the table tothe other man. 

But while it was still an arm's length from Patrick, the clicks began tomount furiously, until they were like the chatter of a pigmy machinegun. Abruptly the clicks slowed, but that was only the counter shiftingto a new scaling circuit, in which each click stood for 512 of the oldones. 

 * * * * *

With those horrid, rattling little volleys, fear cascaded into the roomand filled it, smashing like so much colored glass all the brightbarriers of words Effie had raised against it. For no dreams can standagainst the Geiger counter, the Twentieth Century's mouthpiece ofultimate truth. It was as if the dust and all the terrors of the dusthad incarnated themselves in one dread invading shape that said in wordsstronger than audible speech, "Those were illusions, whistles in thedark. This is reality, the dreary, pitiless reality of the BurrowingYears. "

Hank scuttled back to the wall. Through chattering teeth he babbled, ". .. Enough radioactives . .. Kill a thousand men . .. Freak . .. Afreak . .. " In his agitation he forgot for a moment to inhale throughthe respirator. 

Even Effie--taken off guard, all the fears that had been drilled intoher twanging like piano wires--shrank from the skeletal-seeming shapebeside her, held herself to it only by desperation. 

Patrick did it for her. He disengaged her arm and stepped briskly away. Then he whirled on them, smiling sardonically, and started to speak, butinstead looked with distaste at the chattering Geiger counter he heldbetween fingers and thumb. 

"Have we listened to this racket long enough?" he asked. 

Without waiting for an answer, he put down the instrument on the table. The cat hurried over to it curiously and the clicks began again tomount in a minor crescendo. Effie lunged for it frantically, switched itoff, darted back. 

"That's right, " Patrick said with another chilling smile. "You do wellto cringe, for I'm death itself. Even in death I could kill you, like asnake. " And with that his voice took on the tones of a circus barker. "Yes, I'm a freak, as the gentleman so wisely said. That's what onedoctor who dared talk with me for a minute told me before he kicked meout. He couldn't tell me why, but somehow the dust doesn't kill me. Because I'm a freak, you see, just like the men who ate nails and walkedon fire and ate arsenic and stuck themselves through with pins. Stepright up, ladies and gentlemen--only not too close!--and examine the manthe dust can't harm. Rappaccini's child, brought up to date; hisembrace, death!

"And now, " he said, breathing heavily, "I'll get out and leave you inyour damned lead cave. "

He started toward the window. Hank's gun followed him shakingly. 

"Wait!" Effie called in an agonized voice. He obeyed. She continuedfalteringly, "When we were together earlier, you didn't act as if . .. "

"When we were together earlier, I wanted what I wanted, " he snarled ather. "You don't suppose I'm a bloody saint, do you?"

"And all the beautiful things you told me?"

"That, " he said cruelly, "is just a line I've found that women fall for. They're all so bored and so starved for beauty--as _they_ generally putit. "

"Even the garden?" Her question was barely audible through the sobs thatthreatened to suffocate her. 

He looked at her and perhaps his expression softened just a trifle. 

"What's outside, " he said flatly, "is just a little worse than either ofyou can imagine. " He tapped his temple. "The garden's all here. "

"You've killed it, " she wept. "You've killed it in me. You've bothkilled everything that's beautiful. But you're worse, " she screamed atPatrick, "because he only killed beauty once, but you brought it to lifejust so you could kill it again. Oh, I can't stand it! I won't standit!" And she began to scream. 

Patrick started toward her, but she broke off and whirled away from himto the window, her eyes crazy. 

"You've been lying to us, " she cried. "The garden's there. I know it is. But you don't want to share it with anyone. "

[Illustration]

"No, no, Euphemia, " Patrick protested anxiously. "It's hell out there, believe me. I wouldn't lie to you about it. "

"Wouldn't lie to me!" she mocked. "Are you afraid, too?"

With a sudden pull, she jerked open the window and stood before theblank green-tinged oblong of darkness that seemed to press into the roomlike a menacing, heavy, wind-urged curtain. 

At that Hank cried out a shocked, pleading, "Effie!"

She ignored him. "I can't be cooped up here any longer, " she said. "AndI won't, now that I know. I'm going to the garden. "

Both men sprang at her, but they were too late. She leaped lightly tothe sill, and by the time they had flung themselves against it, herfootsteps were already hurrying off into the darkness. 

"Effie, come back! Come back!" Hank shouted after her desperately, nolonger thinking to cringe from the man beside him, or how the gun waspointed. "I love you, Effie. Come back!"

Patrick added his voice. "Come back, Euphemia. You'll be safe if youcome back right away. Come back to your home. "

No answer to that at all. 

They both strained their eyes through the greenish murk. They couldbarely make out a shadowy figure about half a block down the near-blackcanyon of the dismal, dust-blown street, into which the greenishmoonlight hardly reached. It seemed to them that the figure was scoopingsomething up from the pavement and letting it sift down along its armsand over its bosom. 

"Go out and get her, man, " Patrick urged the other. "For if I go out forher, I warn you I won't bring her back. She said something about havingstood the dust better than most, and that's enough for me. "

But Hank, chained by his painfully learned habits and by something else, could not move. 

And then a ghostly voice came whispering down the street, chanting, "Fire can hurt me, or water, or the weight of Earth. But the dust is myfriend. "

Patrick spared the other man one more look. Then, without a word, hevaulted up and ran off. 

Hank stood there. After perhaps a half minute he remembered to close hismouth when he inhaled. Finally he was sure the street was empty. As hestarted to close the window, there was a little _mew_. 

He picked up the cat and gently put it outside. Then he did close thewindow, and the shutters, and bolted them, and took up the Geigercounter, and mechanically began to count himself. 

 --FRITZ LEIBER

Transcriber's Note:

 This etext was produced from _Galaxy Science Fiction_ April 1952. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U. S. Copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note.