They reached the force fence, but there was no irritation. The forest
started immediately and it was fairly clear of underbrush. There were
no paths to be seen, no sounds of harvesters, no unfamiliar trees. Even
on the floor of the valley there were no signs of life, although they
had seen and avoided several houses.
Henry stopped suddenly, staring ahead.
"What's the matter?" Theta asked.
Wordlessly Henry pointed to the bole of a dead and rotting tree. Its
straight trunk had branches coming out of it in orderly rings, its top
cut off to make the branches spread at ladder distance above the ground.
It leaned drunkenly against a supporting tree.
"Avocado," he said. "This was once a grove."
The normal fear of the unfamiliar swept over Theta. "I want to get out
of here. It scares me," she quavered.
Henry glanced up at the sun. "Too late to cross over now," he said.
"We'll find a house."
He turned and looked about. There should be one close, on the slope of
the ridge so as not to take up useable land. He sighted one and made
for it. From the outside it looked no different from those in their own
valley.
Beside it was an old apple tree with some emaciated fruit on it. At
least they wouldn't starve. As the house was obviously empty he went
around to the back, got a picking ladder off the rack and plucked
enough fruit to fill their pouches, although it was unflavorable. Not
until then did they venture to the front door and push it open.
* * * * *
As far as they could see it was like the houses in their valley, only
it was cold, with a chill dampness. Light gray dust covered everything;
cobwebs festooned the walls. That it had not been lived in for years,
perhaps generations, was evident. Theta clung to his arm, shivering and
afraid. Henry shook her off. He strode to the kitchen and pulled open a
bin. In the bottom was dust, smelling faintly of peaches.
"We'll clean out a bedroom for the night," he said, re-entering the
living room.
In the bedroom the westerly sun poured light through a dust-covered
window, putting the bed somewhat in shadow. It, too, was covered with
dust, turning the everlasting blankets into a color uniform with the
room. Their movements stirred up dust that danced as motes in the
streaming sunlight as if to bar their way across the room. They walked
into it. Their eyes could now see clearly what was beyond.
Theta screamed and sprang back.
Protruding beyond the upper edges of the blankets were two skulls!
They were outside, breathing heavily, before they realized they had
moved. Henry stared at the still open door, at the black hole through
the white wall. It was the first time they had seen the aftermath of
death. For their people, there were places into which bodies were
placed. From them they vanished like all other refuse.
Shaken by the horror of it, they plunged into the forest in panic.
The sun dropped behind the ridge; the air chilled. Bones or no bones
they had to find shelter for the night. Fire, naked flame, they never
had seen or knew existed. Heat came from the walls of houses, with warm
clothing and blankets.
Henry's lips firmed. Dead ones or no dead ones, they had to find
something to keep them warm during the night.
Another house appeared. With fast beating hearts they entered. It was
now warmer inside, but still chilly. They would still need coverings.
"Stay here," Henry said.
He strode into the nearest bedroom. Without stopping to look around, he
stepped to the bed. Closing his eyes, he snatched off the bedding and
fled into the livingroom.
Together, crouched in a corner, the bedding around them, they spent the
night.
Sleep did not come immediately. Henry stared into the darkness,
reviewing the day, putting together what he had discovered.
"It all fits," he said aloud.
"What does?" Theta asked.
"The forest, the dead trees, dead people. Something happened to
everything, perhaps all at once. To the defrosters, the heaters, the
bins. It must have been in winter. They crept into bed to keep warm,
then starved to death. All of them."
"No, no!" Theta cried.
"But it did. And it's beginning to happen to us. Each year something
stops working. The time may come when nothing works."
"We can't do anything...."
"Yes, we can."
"What?"
"Find out why--and try to stop it!"