haven't you tried to collect the reward?" he asked. He felt
suddenly weak, and sat down again on the edge of the bed.

"Me, I need you." Then her eyes widened a trifle. "Pale you look, you
do. I get you something solid inside you. Nothing but soup I get down
you so far, all three days. Soup. You sit, I be back."

He nodded. He _was_ feeling sickish.

She went into the other room, leaving the door open, and he could hear
noises from the small kitchen. The woman began to talk, raising her
voice a little so he could hear her.

"You like eggs?" she asked.

"Some kinds," said The Guesser. "But it doesn't matter. I'm hungry." He
hadn't realized how hungry he was.

"_Some_ kinds?" The woman's voice was puzzled. "They more than one kind
of egg?" The kitchen was suddenly silent as she waited intently for the
answer.

"Yes," said The Guesser. "On other planets. What kind of eggs are
these?"

"Just ... just _eggs_."

"I mean, what kind of animal do they come from?"

"Chicken. What else lay eggs?"

"Other birds." He wished vaguely that he knew more about the fauna of
Viornis. Chickens were well-nigh universal; they could live off almost
anything. But other fowl fared pretty well, too. He shrugged it off;
none of his business; leave that to the ecologists.

"Birds?" the woman asked. It was an unfamiliar word to her.

"Different kinds of chickens," he said tiredly. "Some bigger, some
smaller, some different colors." He hoped the answer would satisfy her.

Evidently it did. She said, "Oh," and went on with what she was doing.

The silence, after only a minute or two, became unbearable. The Guesser
had wanted to yell at the woman to shut up, to leave him alone and not
bother him with her ignorant questions that he could not answer because
she was inherently too stupid to understand. He had wondered why he
hadn't yelled; surely it was not incumbent on a Three to answer the
questions of a Six.

But he _had_ answered, and after she stopped talking, he began to know
why. He wanted to talk and to be talked to. Anything to fill up the void
in his mind; anything to take the place of a world that had suddenly
vanished.

What would he be doing now, if this had not happened? Involuntarily, he
glanced at his wrist, but the chronometer was gone.

He would have awakened, as always, at precisely 0600 ship time. He would
have dressed, and at 0630 he would have been at table, eating his meal
in silence with the others of his cla