Capitol - By Orson Scott Card Page 0,75

budget. Some salaries would go immediately-- primarily his, there was little doubt. And so, knowing that, and also because he was extremely tired, he tossed aside his politic courtesy and pointed out some blunt facts.

"Mrs. Danol, are you aware that in ninety percent of our cases, treating the patient's parents is the most effective step toward a cure?"

Her mouth grew tight and hard.

"And are you aware that your son is not genuinely psychotic at all?"

At that she laughed. "Good. All the more reason to get him away from here-- if he lives through this night out there in that hell that passes for a terraformed planet."

"Actually, your son is quite sane, half the time-- a very intelligent, very creative young man. Very much like his father." That last was intended as a very deep dig. It worked.

She rose from her chair. "I don't want any mention of that son-of-a-bitch!"

"But the other half of the time, he is merely reenacting childhood. Children are insane, all of them-- by adult standards. Their defense strategies, their adaptations, are all such that an adult using them is regarded as utterly mad. Paranoia, acting out, denial, self-destruction. For some reason, Mrs. Danol, your son has been kept penned into the relationship structures of his childhood."

"And you think the reason is me."

"Actually, it's not just a matter of opinion. The only times that Linkeree was sane were the times when he believed he had killed you. Believing you dead, he functions as an adult. Believing you alive, he functions as an infant."

He had gone too far. She shouted in rage and struck out at him across the desk. Her fingers raked his face; her other hand sprawled along his desk, shoving papers and books off onto the floor. He managed to push the call button while he grappled with her with his other hand. But he had lost a handful of hair and gained bruises in his shins by the time the attendants came in and held her back, sedated her, took her to a room in the hospital to rest.
* * *

Morning. The hairy birds of the plains were awake, foraging briskly in the dawn, eating the now sluggish suckers that had bloated themselves on the night life of the grasslands. Linkeree woke, mildly surprised at how natural and good it felt to awaken in the open, lying on a mat of grass, with birds crying. Is there some racial memory of life in the open land that makes me feel so comfortable? he wondered. But he yawned, stood, stretched, feeling vigorously alive, feeling good.

The Vaqs watched him, even as they pursued their morning tasks-- packing up for the day's journey, fixing a skimpy breakfast of cold meat and hot water. But after the eating, they came to him, touched him again, knelt again, making arcane signs with their hands. When they were through (and Linkeree thought bitterly that it was strange that murder and worship were the only intercourse men could have with the Vaqs) they led Linkeree out of the camp, back in the direction he had come last night.

Now, in daylight, he could see why it was that the Vaqs were such deadly adversaries when met in their native habitat. They were short, and not one of them stood taller than the thickest part of the grass, though Link, not a tall man by any human standard, could see clearly over the crest of the blades. And the grass ate up their footprints, closed behind them, hid their movements from any possible observer or follower. An army of Vaqs could pass by unnoticed a meter from the keenest observer, he thought, with some exaggeration.

And then they arrived. They had brought him back to where the baby had been abandoned. It shocked Linkeree profoundly, that they would return to the scene of their crime. Was there no shame to the murders? At least they could have the decency to forget the existence of the child, instead of coming back to gloat.

But they formed a circle around the small corpse (how had they found him again in the grass?) and Linkeree looked down at the child's body.

A chewer had come in the night, and then several others. The first had (shades of Mother's nighttime threats) chewed off the infant genitals, gnawed into the abdomen at the soft entrails, ignoring the muscle tissue entirely. But the baby and the placenta had attracted a huge concentration of suckers, and these had eagerly transferred to the much