hadwater heating for coffee. Before he fell to, he shredded a chunk of meatand put it on the floor for the cat, which left off its sniffinginspection of the walls and ran up eagerly mewing. Then the man began toeat, chewing each mouthful slowly and appreciatively.
From across the table Effie watched him, drinking in his every deftmovement, his every cryptic quirk of expression. She attended to makingthe coffee, but that took only a moment. Finally she could containherself no longer.
"What's it like up there?" she asked breathlessly. "Outside, I mean."
He looked at her oddly for quite a space. Finally, he said flatly, "Oh,it's a wonderland for sure, more amazing than you tombed folk could everimagine. A veritable fairyland." And he quickly went on eating.
"No, but really," she pressed.
Noting her eagerness, he smiled and his eyes filled with playfultenderness. "I mean it, on my oath," he assured her. "You think thebombs and the dust made only death and ugliness. That was true at first.But then, just as the doctors foretold, they changed the life in theseeds and loins that were brave enough to stay. Wonders bloomed andwalked." He broke off suddenly and asked, "Do any of you ever ventureoutside?"
"A few of the men are allowed to," she told him, "for short trips inspecial protective suits, to hunt for canned food and fuels andbatteries and things like that."
"Aye, and those blind-souled slugs would never see anything but whatthey're looking for," he said, nodding bitterly. "They'd never see thegarden where a dozen buds blossom where one did before, and the flowershave petals a yard across, with stingless bees big as sparrows gentlysupping their nectar. Housecats grown spotted and huge as leopards (notlittle runts like Joe Louis here) stalk through those gardens. Butthey're gentle beasts, no more harmful than the rainbow-scaled snakesthat glide around their paws, for the dust burned all the murder out ofthem, as it burned itself out.
"I've even made up a little poem about that. It starts, 'Fire can hurtme, or water, or the weight of Earth. But the dust is my friend.' Oh,yes, and then the robins like cockatoos and squirrels like a princess'sermine! All under a treasure chest of Sun and Moon and stars that thedust's magic powder changes from ruby to emerald and sapphire andamethyst and back again. Oh, and then the new children--"
"You're telling the truth?" she interrupted him, her eyes brimming withtears. "You're not making it up?"
"I am not," he assured her solemnly. "And if you could catch a glimpseof one of the new children, you'd never doubt me again. They have longlimbs as brown as this coffee would be if it had lots of fresh cream init, and smiling delicate faces and the whitish teeth and the finesthair. They're so nimble that I--a sprightly man and somewhat enlivenedby the dust--feel like a cripple beside them. And their thoughts dancelike flames and make me feel a very imbecile.
"Of course, they have seven fingers on each hand and eight toes on eachfoot, but they're the more beautiful for that. They have large pointedears that the Sun shines through. They play in the garden, all day long,slipping among the great leaves and blooms, but they're so swift thatyou can hardly see them, unless one chooses to stand still and look atyou. For that matter, you have to look a bit hard for all these thingsI'm telling you."
"But it is true?" she pleaded.
"Every word of it," he said, looking straight into her eyes. He put downhis knife and fork. "What's your name?" he asked softly. "Mine'sPatrick."
"Effie," she told him.
He shook his head. "That can't be," he said. Then his face brightened."Euphemia," he exclaimed. "That's what Effie is short for. Your name isEuphemia." As he said that, looking at her, she suddenly felt beautiful.He got up and came around the table and stretched out his hand towardher.
"Euphemia--" he began.
"Yes?" she answered huskily, shrinking from him a little, but looking upsideways, and very flushed.
"Don't either of you move," Hank said.
The voice was flat and nasal because Hank was wearing a nose respiratorthat was just long enough to suggest an elephant's trunk. In his righthand was a large blue-black automatic pistol.
* * * * *
They turned their faces to him. Patrick's was abruptly alert, shifty.But Effie's was still smiling tenderly, as if Hank could not break thespell of the magic garden and should be pitied for not knowing aboutit.
"You little--" Hank began with an almost gleeful fury, calling herseveral shameful names. He spoke in short phrases, closing tight hisunmasked mouth between them while he sucked in breath through therespirator. His voice rose in a crescendo. "And not with a man of thecommunity, but a pariah! _A pariah!_"
"I hardly know what you're thinking, man, but you're quite wrong,"Patrick took the opportunity to put in hurriedly, conciliatingly. "Ijust happened to be coming by hungry tonight, a lonely tramp, andknocked at the window. Your wife was a bit foolish and letkindheartedness get the better of prudence--"
"Don't think you've pulled the wool over my eyes, Effie," Hank went onwith a screechy laugh, disregarding the other man completely. "Don'tthink I don't know why you're suddenly going to have a child after fourlong years."
At that moment the cat came nosing up to his feet. Patrick watched himnarrowly, shifting his weight forward a little, but Hank only kicked theanimal aside without taking his eyes off them.
"Even that business of carrying the wristwatch in your pocket instead ofon your arm," he went on with channeled hysteria. "A neat bit ofcamouflage, Effie. Very neat. And telling me it was my child, when allthe while you've been seeing him for months!"
"Man, you're mad; I've not touched her!" Patrick denied hotly thoughstill calculatingly, and risked a step forward, stopping when the guninstantly swung his way.
"Pretending you were going to give me a healthy child," Hank raved on,"when all the while you knew it would be--either in body or germplasm--a thing like _that_!"
He waved his gun at the malformed cat, which had leaped to the top ofthe table and was eating the remains of Patrick's food, though itswatchful green eyes were fixed on Hank.
"I should shoot him down!" Hank yelled, between sobbing, chest-rackinginhalations through the mask. "I should kill him this instant for thecontaminated pariah he is!"
All this while Effie had not ceased to smile compassionately. Now shestood up without haste and went to Patrick's side. Disregarding hiswarning, apprehensive glance, she put her arm lightly around him andfaced her husband.
"Then you'd be killing the bringer of the best news we've ever had," shesaid, and her voice was like a flood of some warm sweet liquor in thatmusty, hate-charged room. "Oh, Hank, forget your silly, wrong jealousyand listen to me. Patrick here has something wonderful to tell us."
* * * * *
Hank stared at her. For once he screamed no reply. It was obvious thathe was seeing for the first time how beautiful she had become, and thatthe realization jolted him terribly.
"What do you mean?" he finally asked unevenly, almost fearfully.
"I mean that we no longer need to fear the dust," she said, and now hersmile was radiant. "It never really did hurt people the way the doctorssaid it would. Remember how it was with me, Hank, the exposure I had andrecovered from, although the doctors said I wouldn't at first--andwithout even losing my hair? Hank, those who were brave enough to stayoutside, and who weren't killed by terror and suggestion and panic--theyadapted to the dust. They changed, but they changed for the better.Everything--"
"Effie, he told you lies!" Hank interrupted, but still in that sameagitated, broken voice, cowed by her beauty.
"Everything that grew or moved was purified," she went on ringingly."You men going outside have never seen it, because you've never had eyesfor it. You've been blinded to beauty, to life itself. And now all thepower in the dust has gone and faded, anyway, burned itself out. That'strue, isn't it?"
She smiled at Patrick for confirmation. His face was strangely veiled,as if he were calculating obscure changes. He might have given a littlenod; at any rate,
Effie assumed that he did, for she turned back to herhusband.
"You see, Hank? We can all go out now. We need never fear the dustagain. Patrick is a living proof of that," she continued triumphantly,standing straighter, holding him a little tighter. "Look at him. Not ascar or a sign, and he's been out in the dust for years. How could he bethis way, if the dust hurt the brave? Oh, believe me, Hank! Believe whatyou see. Test it if you want. Test Patrick here."
"Effie,