Free The Doors Of The Universe by Sylvia Engdahl

products of caged fowl and grain grown in machine-treated fields; nothing to drink but tea and ale, both of which were, of course, made with purified water. And the few drugs kept for emergencies had rarely been used on anyone who happened to be pregnant.
    “Even if the child did suffer such damage,” Stefred went on, “you’ve no cause to assume that was the reason Talyra herself died.”
    “But it might have been. Could my knowing this account for what you found in my mind?”
    “Yes, it could. Guilt based on rational grounds, as if, for instance, she’d died in the crash of the aircar—there are people who wouldn’t feel to blame, but you’re not one of them.” He sighed and continued soberly, “I won’t try to tell you that because you meant no harm, had no way of predicting any harm, it shouldn’t bother you; that’s unrealistic. It does bother you. I—I haven’t an answer for you, Noren.”
    “Well, I didn’t expect you would have,” Noren said, relieved that Stefred hadn’t attempted to offer empty consolation. “That’s why I wasn’t going to mention it. Can we go on, now?”
    “I’m not sure. With a trauma I can’t remove, a relevant one—”
    “Relevant? The First Scholar had no part in his wife’s death.”
    “No,” Stefred agreed. “Not in that—but there are some perplexing feelings in these dreams, guilt feelings that are quite strong; and you see, Noren, I can’t give you hypnotic suggestions to remain detached from them. That would set up a conflict your subconscious mind couldn’t resolve.”
    “Guilt—in the First Scholar’s thoughts? Besides the guilt he acknowledged about sealing the City and establishing the caste system?” Noren was incredulous. “Surely he never did anything else bad enough to suffer over.”
    “Hard as it is to believe, he seems to have—we don’t know what. You realize that what we call the full version isn’t actually unedited; he did some editing himself to remove private things. The cause of his submerged suffering is one of the things he deleted.”
    “But he wouldn’t—I mean, he wasn’t self-righteous; if he’d done anything he was sorry for, he wouldn’t hide it,” Noren protested. “And if he did want to hide it, why didn’t he remove all record of his emotions about it at the same time?”
    “Those are questions no one has ever been able to answer. After he died, the Founders wondered, too. Even his contemporaries couldn’t believe he’d had grounds for the feelings in these recordings.” Stefred frowned. “Nevertheless, they are there. Which means, Noren, that when you experience them, you’ll transfer them to your own situation—not getting a cause from his mind, you’ll draw it from your own, just as you’ll still see Talyra’s face instead of his wife’s.”
    “If that’s true,” Noren said, “then there’s no way around it. I can’t live my whole life without going through these dreams—you said a while ago we both know I’ve got to do it eventually.”
    “Yes. But if you’ve chosen to undertake it now because of a hope that you’ll gain more understanding of genetic damage, I can’t let you proceed on that basis. Though people do draw different things from the recordings, that’s too big an area for all of us to have missed.”
    “Which in itself is a mystery I can’t back away from. Besides this guilt you say he felt… there are two ways to look at it. He came to terms with that, too, evidently.”
    “You’re wise beyond your years,” Stefred murmured. “I can’t contradict you—just so you realize that the real thing won’t be as easy to deal with as the theory.”
    “Is it ever? Look, Stefred, I hope you don’t think I’m so stupid as not to feel any fear of this, especially if we’re going straight through to—to the end.” Lying back against the padding of the chair, relaxing his body only by effort of will, Noren could not suppress the chill spreading through him; the