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alone since
    before the crash?"
    Hand in hand, they ran toward the trees; MacLeod, coming from the edge of the forest, his hands
    filled with ripe round clear greenish fruits, held out a handful.

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    His lips were dripping with their juice. "Here. They're marvelous"
    Laughing, Heather bit into the round smooth globe. It was bursting with sweet, fragrant juice; she ate
    it all, greedily, and reached for another. Ewen tried to pull it away.
    "Heather, you're mad, they haven't even been tested yet--"
    "I tested them," MacLeod laughed, "I ate half a dozen for breakfast and I feel wonderful! Say I'm psychic, if you like. They won't hurt you and they're chock full of every vitamin we know on Earth and a couple we don't! I   know   , I tell you!"
    He caught Ewen's eye, and the young doctor, a curious awareness growing in him, said slowly,
    "Yes. Yes, you do know, of course they're good. Just as those mushrooms--" he pointed to a greyishfungus growing on the tree, "are wholesome and full of protein, but those--" he pointed to anexquisitely-colored golden nut, "are deadly, two bites will give you a hell of a bellyache and half a cup willkill you--how the hell do I know all this?" He rubbed his forehead, feeling the odd itch through it all, andtook a fruit from Heather.
    "Here, we'll all be crazy together then. Marvelous! Better than rations any day... where's Judy?"
    "She's all right," MacLeod said, laughing. I'm going off and look for some more fruits l"
    Marco Zabal lay alone in the shelter-tent, eyes closed, half-dreaming through closed lids of the sunon the Basque hills of his childhood. Far away in the forest it seemed that he heard singing, singing whichseemed to go on, and on, high and clear and sweet. He got to his feet, not stopping to draw any garmentabout him, disregarding the warning pounding of his heart. An incredible glow of well-being and beautyseemed to surge through him. The sunlight was brilliant on the sloping clearing, the trees seemed to hangdarkly and protectively like a beckoning roof, the flowers seemed to sparkle and glitter with a brilliancethat was like gold, orange, blue; colors he had never seen before danced and sparkled before his eyes.

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    Deep in the forest came the sound of singing, high, shrill, unbelievably sweet; the pipes of Pan, the
    lyre ofOrpheus,

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    the call of the sirens. He felt his weakness fade; his youth restored.
    Across the clearing he saw three of his companions, lying on the grass laughing, the girl kickingflowers into the air with her bare toes. He stood enraptured, watching her, entangled for a moment in thewebs of her fantasy...   I am a woman made of flowers... but the far-off singing lured him on; theybeckoned him to join them, but he smiled, blew the girl a kiss, and bounded like a young man into theforest.
    Far ahead he saw the gleam of white--a bird? A naked body?--he never knew how far he ran,hardly feeling the rapid pounding of his heart, wrapped in the glorious euphoria of freedom from pain,following the white gleam of the distant figure--or bird?--calling out in mingled rapture and anguish, "Wait, wait "
    The song shrilled and seemed to fill his whole head and heart. Gently, without pain, he fell into thelong sweet-scented grass. The singing went on, and on, and he saw bending over him a fair face, longcolorless hair waving around her eyes, a voice too sweet, too heart- wrenchingly sweet to be human, andhair turned to silver by the sun slanting through the trees, and he went happily, joyously down intodarkness with the woman's face, sweet and mad, imprinted on his dying eyes.
    Rafe ran through the forest, his heart pounding, slipping and falling on the steep path. He shouted, as
    he ran, "Camilla! Camilla!"
    What had happened? One moment she was at peace in his arms--then pure terror had surgedacross her face and she had screamed and begun babbling something about faces on the heights, faces inthe clouds, wide-open spaces waiting to fall on her and