"We hope," he went on, "that by studying your world and others like it, we may some day better understand the whole universe...." "Or reach a better understanding of your own thoughts?" She smiled. Her long eyes lidded heavily with amusement. "Wherever we go," he continued doggedly, "we find people like ourselves. Human beings. They are born; they grow up; they die. Human culture is built around the processes of living and dying. Our beliefs and actions stem from those facts--that we live and that we die. We are emotionally affected by them. Sometimes, we know great happiness. Then we remember that we die, and we suffer sorrow. I have seen no sadness in your village. Everybody is happy. It ... it isn't natural. I wonder how you would act if one of you were to die...." She stirred restlessly, movement restricted by her clinging sarong. "One of us will die for you," she said simply, "if you wish to study it." Sudden shock hammered at his brain. What a thing to say! What did she mean? Was she really as simple as her language seemed to indicate? He felt embarrassed. "Tsu, you know I didn't mean...." His eye caught a flicker of movement among the brown trunks of the trees. A slim figure left their shadow, picked its way uphill through the grasses, toward them. Rowley recognized Smarin, Tsu's father. Smarin's slim ascetic face was expressionless, his long eyes hooded. "Torl fell from the tree," he said. "Torl is dead. Come, Tsu." Rowley felt hair prickle at the back of his neck. It seemed that Smarin had come out, strictly on cue. Then he realized that Smarin had meant it. The shock of a moment before intensified, expanded, pressurized itself into every cell of his brain. "Oh, no!" he said. Tsu got lithely up. She looked down at him, lips drawn, eyes lidded with slumbering sorrow. "It was your wish, _sintaha_ Rowley. Come with us. Study and learn...." * * * * * "It could have been an accident," Rowley reported over the comm, "but I have a feeling it was staged." "You saw the dead woman?" "She was dead, all right. They let me see that she was dead, then they buried her--at the foot of the tree. No ceremony. Shallow grave--not over a foot and a half deep." "Then what?" "Then they all went back to tending the trees. Tsu seemed happy as hell about the whole thing. She hoped I had learned what I wanted, she said." "I'm interested," Spliid broke in. "I'm coming down tonight, Cliff." "Where are you now?" "About a thousand miles east of you. I looked in on Stephans this afternoon. I'll get down there after dark." Sunsel glowed an arabesque of colors on the village at Rowley's feet. The comm was silent. He switched it off. Commander Waldo Spliid was a big, blond man. He bulked hugely at Rowley's side, among the intense shadows of the trees. Hume had no moon. Only the stars spattered a frail shine over the upper levels of the forest. Rowley said, softly, "Here's the grave."