The driver said, "Everybody knows the man on Trent disappeared. Maybe
he got caught, maybe somebody saw him without make-up. Or maybe he
just quit being one of us. What's the difference? No use!"

Calhoun found himself wincing a little. The driver was not angry. He
was hopeless. But men should not despair. They shouldn't accept
hostility from those about them as a device of fate for their
destruction.

Maril said quickly to Calhoun, "You understand? Dara's a heavy-metals
planet. There aren't many light elements in our soil. Potassium is
scarce. So our ground isn't very fertile. Before the Plague we traded
metals and manufactured products for imports of food and potash. But
since the Plague we've had no off-planet commerce. We've been
quarantined."

"I gathered as much," said Calhoun. "It was up to Med Service to see
that that didn't happen. It's up to Med Service now to see that it
stops."

"Too late now for anything," said the driver. "Whatever Med Service
may be! They're talking about cutting down our population so there'll
be food enough for some to live. There are two questions about it. One
is who's to be kept alive, and the other is why."

The groundcar aimed now for a cluster of faintly brighter lights on
the far side of the great open space. They enlarged as they grew
nearer. Maril said hesitantly, "There was someone, Korvan--" Calhoun
didn't catch the rest of the name. Maril said hesitantly, "He was