As far as they could see it was like the houses in their valley, only it was cold, with a chill dampness. Light gray dust covered everything; cobwebs festooned the walls. That it had not been lived in for years, perhaps generations, was evident. Theta clung to his arm, shivering and afraid. Henry shook her off. He strode to the kitchen and pulled open a bin. In the bottom was dust, smelling faintly of peaches. "We'll clean out a bedroom for the night," he said, re-entering the living room. In the bedroom the westerly sun poured light through a dust-covered window, putting the bed somewhat in shadow. It, too, was covered with dust, turning the everlasting blankets into a color uniform with the room. Their movements stirred up dust that danced as motes in the streaming sunlight as if to bar their way across the room. They walked into it. Their eyes could now see clearly what was beyond. Theta screamed and sprang back. Protruding beyond the upper edges of the blankets were two skulls! They were outside, breathing heavily, before they realized they had moved. Henry stared at the still open door, at the black hole through the white wall. It was the first time they had seen the aftermath of death. For their people, there were places into which bodies were placed. From them they vanished like all other refuse. Shaken by the horror of it, they plunged into the forest in panic. The sun dropped behind the ridge; the air chilled. Bones or no bones they had to find shelter for the night. Fire, naked flame, they never had seen or knew existed. Heat came from the walls of houses, with warm clothing and blankets. Henry's lips firmed. Dead ones or no dead ones, they had to find something to keep them warm during the night. Another house appeared. With fast beating hearts they entered. It was now warmer inside, but still chilly. They would still need coverings. "Stay here," Henry said. He strode into the nearest bedroom. Without stopping to look around, he stepped to the bed. Closing his eyes, he snatched off the bedding and fled into the livingroom. Together, crouched in a corner, the bedding around them, they spent the night. Sleep did not come immediately. Henry stared into the darkness, reviewing the day, putting together what he had discovered. "It all fits," he said aloud. "What does?" Theta asked. "The forest, the dead trees, dead people. Something happened to everything, perhaps all at once. To the defrosters, the heaters, the bins. It must have been in winter. They crept into bed to keep warm, then starved to death. All of them." "No, no!" Theta cried. "But it did. And it's beginning to happen to us. Each year something stops working. The time may come when nothing works." "We can't do anything...." "Yes, we can." "What?" "Find out why--and try to stop it!" III At dawn, stiff and shivering, they stumbled outside and by unspoken consent started directly up the slope.