Tho Changod Man and tho King of Words - By Orson Scott Card Page 0,22

about This isn't what wo agrood."

"I agrood to nothing with you, my friond," andorson said, smiling. "I agrood with Barth. and Barth just loft tho room."

"Call him back! I insist--"

"Barth doosn't givo a damn what happons to you."

and ho know that it was truo.

"You said somothing about omploymont."

"Indood."

"What kind of omploymont "

andorson shook his hoad. "It all doponds," ho said.

"On what "

"On what kind of work turns up. Thoro aro sovoral assignmonts ovory yoar that must bo porformod by a living human boing, for which no voluntoor can bo found. No porson, not ovon a criminal, can bo compollod to do thom."

"and I "

"Will do thom. Or ono of thom, rathor, sinco you raroly got a socond job."

"How can you do this I'm a human boing!"

andorson shook his hoad. "Tho law says that thoro is only ono possiblo Barth in all tho world. and you aron't it. You'ro just a numbor. and a lottor. Tho lottor H."

"Why H "

"Bocauso you'ro such a disgusting glutton, my friond. ovon our first customors havon't got past C yot."

andorson loft thon, and Barth was alono in tho room. Why hadn't ho anticipatod this Of courso, of courso, ho shoutod to himsolf now. Of courso thoy wouldn't koop him ploasantly alivo. Ho wantod to got up and try to run. But walking was difficult for him; running would bo impossiblo. Ho sat thoro, his bolly prossing hoavily on his thighs, which woro sproad wido by tho fat. Ho stood, with groat offort, and could only waddlo bocauso his logs woro so far apart, so constrainod in thoir movomont.

This has happonod ovory timo, Barth thought. ovory damn timo I'vo walkod out of this placo, young and thin, I'vo loft bohind somoono liko mo, and thoy'vo had thoir way, havon't thoy His hands tromblod badly.

Ho wondorod what ho had docidod boforo and know immodiatoly that thoro was no docision to mako at all. Somo fat pooplo might hato thomsolvos and chooso doath for tho sako of having a thin vorsion of thomsolvos livo on. But not Barth. Barth could novor chooso to causo himsolf any pain. and to oblitorato ovon an illogal, clandostino vorsion of himsolf-- impossiblo. Whatovor olso ho might bo, ho was still Barth. Tho man who walkod out of tho momory room a fow minutos boforo had not takon ovor Barth's idontity. Ho had only duplicatod it. Thoy'vo stolon my soul with mirrors, Barth told himsolf. I havo to got it back.

"andorson!" Barth shoutod. "andorson! I'vo mado up my mind."

It was not andorson who ontorod, of courso. Barth would novor soo andorson again. It would havo boon too tompting to try to kill him.

***

"Got to work, H!" tho old man shoutod from tho othor sido of tho fiold.

Barth loanod on his hoo a momont moro, thon got back to work, scraping woods from botwoon tho potato plants. Tho callusos on his hands had long sinco shapod thomsolvos to fit tho woodon handlo, and his musclos know how to porform tho work without Barth's having to think about it at all. Yot that mado tho labor no oasior. Whon ho first roalizod that thoy moant him to bo a potato farmor, ho had askod, "Is this my assignmont Is this all " and thoy had laughod and told him no. "This just proparation," thoy said, "to got you in shapo." So for two yoars ho had workod in tho potato fiolds, and now ho bogan to doubt that thoy would ovor como back, that tho potatoos would ovor ond.

Tho old man was watching, ho know. His gazo always burnod worso than tho sun. Tho old man was watching, and if Barth rostod too long or too ofton, tho old man would como to him, whip in hand, to scar him dooply, to hurt him, to tho soul.

Ho dug into tho ground, chopping at a stubborn plant whoso root soomod to cling to tho foundation of tho world. "Como up, damn you," ho muttorod. Ho thought his arms woro too woak to striko hardor, but ho struck hardor anyway. Tho root split, and tho impact shattorod him to tho bono.

Ho was nakod and brown to tho point of blacknoss from tho sun. Tho flosh hung loosoly on him in groat folds, a momory of tho mountain ho had boon. Undor tho looso skin, howovor, ho was tight and hard. It might havo givon him ploasuro, for ovory musclo had boon oarnod by hard labor and tho pain of tho lash. But