A sound is heard. Siewen is crouched over, holding it- self. Its shoulders shake and it makes harsh rasping sounds with its breath. Eeshta moves to bend and see under its hood. Its face below the eyes is wet.

"Siewen," says the young person, "is it that the food to- day is not good to you?"

The animal of the upcurved mouth closes the door of the room behind Eeshta and remains outside. The times of questioning now count nearly to two fours of fours. Ling sits behind the squarish thing that is always covered with papers. Limila sits to one side; it no longer hides its face, and has thrown back its hood. Its smoothed head is deeper and less wide than is quite correct, but the shell of it is in- side and difficult to reshape. Attempts to make such changes cause dying, and so are now abandoned on Ash- ura.

The young person moves a seat closer to the others, and sits. "It is that you ask and I answer," it says. "That I would now ask."

Limila would speak, but Ling waves a hand and says, its mouth curving: "AH right, Eeshta, we'll make a deal.

Ask anything you want-m English-and we'll answer.

What do you say?"

**That I do not use your speech, that I must not. Hish- too-'*

Ling waves the hand again. "Forget Hishtoo for a min- ute. We've been asking questions, playing by your rules.

If you wish to ask in turn, you'll have to play by ours for a change."

Eeshta considers. Already it speaks with an animal, though in Demu tongue. And what it would ask, it needs to know. There is no need to inform Hishtoo . . .

"Then tell me what you really want to know from me.

And why."

Ling nods. "We want to know about you, about your people. How they think, and why they do what they do."

"What we do? What is it that we do?"

Limila brings its hands near its face, its two fours of fingers pointing stiffly toward itself. "This!" It touches here and there on its head and body, and its extremities, "And this, and this, and this!"

"It is only that you are given correct appearance,

144.

a." Startled, the young person uses its own speech is not rebuked.

-^ "But why?" Limila's voice is high and harsh with strain.

.H^Do you know what it is to be cut and sewn, and to have 'wo face?"

^ "I know you had pain, yes."

"Pain? I saw others die and envied their luck. The flesh was bad enough, and the teeth. But"-it indicates the jog t the base of its hand-"the disjointing of bones! And ^ herel" It points to the nostril openings. "There was bone.

-f: .A saw, and the chisels. After the first of it I could not see, 3! for the blood. Pain? You do not know of pain, Eeshta.

^ Why, how, can you possibly do such things?"

^- "But, so you could be Demu and not animal. And now '*' flat is a long time past. You healed, and are Demu and

-*- have no more pain."

^ "No pain?" Limila's breathing is harsh and rapid.

**Eeshta-Eesbta, how would you like to have your arms cut off?"

At first frightened, after a moment the young person realizes there is no threat. "I would not; no one would, / But why ... ?"

"Suppose you met a race of super-Demu with no arms, They give you correct appearance by removing yours.

How would you feel?"

"But without arms, how could they?"

"Damn your stupid little soul to Barton's hell, they'd bite them offi" In awkward haste, Limila pulls its robe ^' from itself, crumples it, flings it against a wall. Unlike its

-/ conduct, its appearance is most correct for one not egg- ;' born.

""' "Annette?" says Limila. "Would you show yourself .^ completely?" Ling looks for a mpment at Limila, then re- moves its own garb. The two stand together. Ling's ap- ,. pearance is not at all correct, but in it Eeshta can see a 'v kind of symmetry.

"Look!" With one hand Limila touches Ling, and with , the other, the same portion of itself. "Thisi" The mouth, ". me growth above it that is partly bone, the flaps at the

sides of the head, and at top and back the fiber called -> hair.

"Thisi" The lumps on the chest, the changes at the ex- tremities, the fiber-covered protrusions where legs begin.

"This! Thisi This!"

It pauses, breathing heavily. "These things are all part

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of her. They were part of me, too, until you-your people -took them from me. My face was myself. Now I have

no self."

"But you are Demu, Limila,"

**Am I? No. I am not eggborn; I cannot in breeding sea- son lock to another bearing eggs and at the same time ful- filling that others. I cannot go to Sisshain once to visit and perhaps a second time to become-or if not, no

shame to the eggs."

"No shame to the eggs," Eeshta responded.

**I cannot even truly have correct appearance. I am not Demu, Eeshta. I am only something that was once a woman, who can no longer he a woman or even a person, from what the Demu have done to me. Because of that I

am of no use, even to myself."

The young person is confused. "But the Demu mean no harm, only good. Not to take, but to give. It has al- ways been our way, when we can, to help animals. I am sorry, Limila, that even though not eggborn, you can find

no pride in being Demu."

"Pride? Pride?" Limila shakes its head. "Eeshta, you work very hard at not understanding me. Barton, I sup- pose. would call it a racial trait. Let me try again. Eeshta, would you prefer to live, or to die?"

"To live, of course, Limila. To live."

"Yes? Why?"

"Because-because alive I can do and learn. Dying

ends all of it."

Limila still stands, feet apart. Its legs shake, but it does