"No, no, never say 'leprosy.' It's 'Hansen's disease.' Whatever it is, the execs were sure scared of it. They wiped out every patient we had, except a couple who got away by swimming; then for good measure they wiped out most of the medical staff too, except for a couple like me who were off-island and had the sense to keep quiet about where they'd worked. I used," he said, rolling over his back and putting his hands behind his head, "in the old days to work on pest-control for the Public Health Service. We sure knocked off a lot of rats and fleas. I never thought I'd be one of them." He was silent. Chandler admired his courage very much. The man had fallen asleep. Chandler looked at the others. "You going to let them kill us without a struggle?" he demanded. The remaining Hawaiian was the only one to answer. He said, "You just don't know how much _pilikia_ you're in. It isn't what we _let_ them do." "We'll see," Chandler promised grimly. "They're only human. I haven't given up yet." * * * * * But in the end he could not save himself; it was the girl who saved him. That night Chandler tossed in troubled sleep, and woke to find himself standing, walking toward the Tri-Pacer. The sun was just beginning to pink the sky and no one else was moving. "Sorry, love," he apologized to himself. "You probably need to bathe and shave, but I don't know how. Shave, I mean." He giggled. "Anyway, you'll find everything you need at my house." He climbed into the plane. "Ever fly before?" he asked himself. "Well, you'll love it. Here we go. _Close_ the door ... _snap_ the belt ... _turn_ the switch." He admired the practiced ease with which his body started the motor, raced it with a critical eye on the instruments, turned the plane and lifted it off, up, into the rising sun. "Oh, dear. You _do_ need a bath," he told himself, wrinkling his nose humorously. "No harm. I've the nicest tub--pink, deep--and nine kinds of bath salts. But I wish you weren't so tired, love, because it's a long flight and you're wearing me out." He was silent as he bent to the correct compass heading and cranked a handle over his head to adjust the trim. "Koitska's going to be so _huhu_," he said, smiling. "Never fear, love, I can calm him down. But it's easier to do with you in one piece, you know, the other way's too late." He was silent for a long time, and then his voice began to sing. They were songs from Rosalie's own musical comedies. Even with so poor an instrument as Chandler's voice to work with, she sang well enough to keep both of them entertained while his body brought the plane in for a landing; and so Chandler went to live in the villa that belonged to Rosalie Pan. XII "Love," she said, "there are worse things in the world than keeping me amused when I'm not busy. We'll go to the beach again one day soon, I promise." And she was gone again. * * * * *