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er；　silver；　beads；　spinels；　and　the　gars　and　yellow　diamonds　of　Southrising。　Sadik　had　not　seen　many　bright；　delicate　things；　but　she　knew　necklaces；　and　so　identified　it。

〃No；　look；〃　her　father　said；　and　with　solemnity　and　deftness　raised　the　object　by　the　thread　that　connected　its　several　loops。　Hanging　from　his　hand　it　came　alive；　the　loops　turning　freely；　describing　airy　spheres　one　within　the　other；　the　glass　beads　catching　the　lamplight。

〃Oh；　beauty！〃　the　child　said。　〃What　is　it？〃

It　hangs　from　the　ceiling；　is　there　a　nail？　The　coat　hook　will　do；　till　I　can　get　a　nail　from　Supplies。　Do　you　know　who　made　it；　Sadik？〃

〃No　—　You　did。〃

〃She　did。　The　mother。　She　did。〃　He　turned　to　Takver。

〃It's　my　favorite；　the　one　that　was　over　the　desk。　I　gave　the　others　to　Bedap。　I　wasn't　going　to　leave　them　there　for　old　what'shername。　Mother　Envy　down　the　corridor。〃

〃Oh　—　Bunub！　I　hadn't　thought　of　her　in　years'〃　Takver　laughed　shakily。　She　looked　at　the　mobile　as　if　she　was　afraid　of　it。

Sadik　stood　watching　it　as　it　fumed　silently　seeking　its　balance。　〃I　wish；〃　she　said　at　last；　carefully；　〃that　I　could　share　it　one　night　over　the　bed　I　sleep　in　in　the　dormitory。〃　

〃I'll　make　one　for　you；　dear　soul。　For　every　night。〃

〃Can　you　really　make　them；　Takver？〃

〃Well；　I　used　to。　I　think　I　could　make　you　one。〃　The　tears　were　now　plain　in　Takver's　eyes。　Shevek　put　his　arms　around　her。　They　were　both　still　on　edge；　overstrained。　Sadik　looked　at　them　holding　each　other　for　a　moment　with　a　calm；　observing　eye；　then　returned　to　watching　the　Occupation　of　Uninhabited　Space。　When　they　were　alone；　evenings；　Sadik　was　often　the　subject　of　their　talk。　Takver　was　somewhat　overabsorbed　in　the　child；　for　want　of　other　intimacies；　and　her　strong　mon　sense　was　obscured　by　maternal　ambitions　and　anxieties。　This　was　not　natural　to　her；　neither　petitiveness　nor　protectiveness　was　a　strong　motive　in　Anarresti　life。　She　was　glad　to　talk　her　worries　out　and　get　rid　of　them；　which　Shevek's　presence　enabled　her　to　do。　The　first　nights；　she　did　most　of　the　talking；　and　he　listened　as　be　might　have　listened　to　music　or　to　running　water；　without　trying　to　reply。　He　had　not　talked　very　much；　for　four　years　now；　he　was　out　of　the　habit　of　conversation。　She　released　him　from　that　silence；　as　she　had　always　done。　Later；　it　was　he　who　talked　the　most；　though　always　dependent　on　her　response。

〃Do　you　remember　Tirin？〃　he　asked　one　night。　It　was　cold；　winter　had　arrived；　and　the　room；　the　farthest　from　the　domicile　furnace；　never　got　very　warm；　even　with　the　register　wide　open。　They　had　taken　the　bedding　from　both　platforms　and　were　well　cocooned　together　on　the　platform　nearer　the　register。　Shevek　was　wearing　a　very　old；　muchwashed　shirt　to　keep　his　chest　warm；　as　he　liked　to　sit　up　in　bed。　Takver；　wearing　nothing；　was　under　the　blankets　from　the　ears　down。　〃What　became　of　the　orange　blanket？〃　she　said。

〃What　a　propertarian！　I　left　it〃

〃To　Mother　Envy？　How　sad。　I'm　not　a　propertarian。　I'm　Just　sentimental。　It　was　the　first　blanket　we　slept　under。〃

〃No；　it　wasn't。　We　must　have　used　a　blanket　up　in　the　Ne　Theraa。〃

〃If　we　did；　I　don't　remember　it〃　Takver　laughed。　〃Who　did　you　ask　about？〃

〃Tirin。〃

〃Don't　remember。〃

〃At　Northsetting　Regional。　Dark　boy；　snub　nose　—〃

〃Oh；　Tirin！　Of　course。　I　was　thinking　of　Abbenay。〃

〃I　saw　him；　in　Southwest。〃

〃You　saw　Tirin？　How　was　he？〃

Shevek　said　nothing　for　a　while；　tracing　out　the　weave　of　the　blanket　with　one　finger。　〃Remember　what　Bedap　told　us　about　him？〃

〃That　he　kept　getting　kleggich　postings；　and　moving　around；　and　finally　went　to　Segvina　Island；　didn't　he？　And　then　Dap　lost　track　of　him。〃

〃Did　you　see　the　play　he　put　on；　the　one　that　made　trouble　for　him？〃

〃At　the　Summer　Festival；　after　you　left？　Oh　yes。　I　dont　remember　it；　that's　so　long　ago　now。　It　was　silly。　Witty　—　Tirin　was　witty。　But　silly。　It　was　about　an　Urrasti；　that's　right。　This　Urrasti　hides　himself　in　a　hydroponics　tank　on　the　Moon　freighter；　and　breathes　through　a　straw；　and　eats　the　plant　roots。　I　told　you　it　was　silly！　And　so　he　gets　himself　smuggled　onto　Anarres。　And　then　he　runs　around　trying　to　buy　things　at　depots；　and　trying　to　sell　things　to　people；　and　saving　gold　nuggets　till　he's　holding　so　many　he　can't　move。　So　he　has　to　sit　where　he　is；　and　he　builds　a　palace；　and　calls　himself　the　Owner　of　Anarres。　And　there　was　an　awfully　funny　scene　where　he　and　this　woman　want　to　copulate；　and　she's　just　wide　open　and　ready；　but　he　can't　do　it　until　he's　given　her　his　gold　nuggete　first；　to　pay　her。　And　she　didn't　want　them。　That　was　funny；　with　her　flopping　down　and　waving　her　legs；　and　him　launching　himself　onto　her；　and　then　he'd　leap　up　like　he'd　been　bitten；　saying；　'I　must　not！　It　is　not　moral！　It　is　not　good　business！'　Poor　Tirin！　He　was　so　funny；　and　so　alive。〃

〃He　played　the　Urrasti？〃

〃Yes。　He　was　marvelous。〃

〃He　showed　me　the　play。　Several　times。〃

〃Where　did　you　meet　him？　In　Grand　Valley？〃

〃No；　before；　in　Elbow。　He　was　janitor　for　the　mill。〃

〃Had　he　chosen　that？〃

〃I　don't　think　Tir　was　able　to　choose　at　all；　by　then。。。　Bedap　always　thought　that　he　was　forced　to　go　to　Segvina；　that　he　was　bullied　into　asking　for　therapy。　I　don't　know。　When　I　saw　him；　several　years　after　therapy；　he　was　a　destroyed　person。〃

〃You　think　they　did　something　at　Segvina　—　？〃

〃I　don't　know；　I　think　the　Asylum　does　try　to　offer　shelter；　a　refuge。　To　judge　from　their　syndical　publications；　they're　at　least　altruistic。　I　doubt　that　they　drove　Tir　over　the　edge。〃

〃But　what　did　break　him；　then？　Just　not　finding　a　posting　he　wanted？〃

〃The　play　broke　him。〃

〃The　play？　The　fuss　those　old　turds　made　about　it？　Oh；　but　listen；　to　be　driven　crazy　by　that　kind　of　moralistic　scolding　you'd　have　to　be　crazy　already。　All　he　had　to　do　was　ignore　it！〃

〃Tir　was　crazy　already。　By　our　society's　standards。〃

〃What　do　you　mean？〃

〃Well；　I　think　Tir's　a　born　artist。　Not　a　craftsman　—　a　creator。　An　inventordestroyer；　the　kind　who's　got　to　turn　everything　upside　down　and　inside　out。　A　satirist；　a　man　who　praises　through　rage。〃

〃Was　the　play　that　good？〃　Takver　asked　naively；　ing　out　an　inch　or　two　from　the　blankets　and　studying　Shevek's　profile。

〃No；　I　don't　think　so。　It　must　have　been　funny　on　stage。　He　was　only　twenty　when　he　wrote　it；　after　all。　He　keeps　writing　it　over。　He's　never　written　anything　else。〃

〃He　keeps　writing　the　same　play？〃

〃He　keeps　writing　the　same　play。〃

〃Ugh；〃　Takver　said　with　pity　and　disgust。

〃Every　couple　of　decads　he'd　e　and　show　it　to　me。　And　I'd　read　it　or　make　a　show　of　reading　it　and　try　to　talk　with　him　about　it。　He　wanted　desperately　to　talk　about　it；　but　he　couldn't。　He　was　too　frightened。〃

〃Of　what？　I　don't　understand。〃

〃Of　me。　Of　everybody。　Of　the　social　anism；　the　human　race；　the　brotherhood　that　rejected　him。　When　a　man　feels　himself　alone　against　all　the　rest；　he　might　well　be　frightened。〃

〃You　mean；　just　because　some　people　called　his　play　immoral　and　said　he　shouldn't　get　a　teaching　posting；　he　decided　everybody　was　against　him？　That's　a　bit　silly！〃

〃But　who　was　for　him？〃

〃Dap　was　—　all　his　friends。〃

〃But　he　lost　them。　He　got　posted　away。〃

〃Why　didn't　he　refuse　the　posting；　then？〃

〃Listen；　Takver。　I　thought　the　aame　thing；　exactly。　We　always　say　that。　You　said　it　—　you　should　have　refused　to　go　to　Rolny。　I　said　it　as　soon　as　I　got　to　Elbow：　I'm　a　free　man；　I　didn't　have　to　e　here！。。。　We　always　think　it；　and　say　it；　but　we　don't　do　it。　We　keep　our　initiative　tucked　away　safe　in　our　mind；　like　a　room　where　we　can　e　and　say；　I　don't　have　to　do　anything；　I　make　my　own　choices；　I'm　free。　And　then　we　leave　the　little　room　in　our　mind；　and　go　where　PDC　posts　us；　and　stay　till　we're　reposted。〃

〃Oh；　Shev；　that's　not　true。　Only　since　the　drought。　Before　that　there　wasn't　half　so　much　posting。　People　just　worked　up　jobs　where　they　wanted　them；　and　joined　a　syndicate　or　formed　one；　and　then　registered　with　Divlab。　Divlab　mostly　posted　people　who　preferred　to　be　in　General　Labor　Pool。　It's　going　to　go　back　to　that　again；　now。〃

〃I　don't　know。　It　ought　to；　of　course。　But　even　before　the　famine　it　wasn't　going　in　that　direction；