ed
blue plants began a writhing dance. Their spicules withdrew and jabbed,
withdrew and jabbed. A rending, silent scream tore the quiet waters.

_NO!_ they cried. It was a negative command, mixed in with the terrible
screaming. _Turn it off!_

"Stop it, stop it!" Cully tried to say, but there were no words. He
tried to cover his ears within the helmet, but the cries went on.
Emotions roiled the water: pain, hurt, reproach. Cully sobbed. Something
was wrong here; something was killing the plants--the beautiful blue
things! The plants were withering, dying. He looked up at them,
stupefied, not understanding, tears streaming down his face. What did
they want from him? What had he done ...

_Where is it?_

A different direction materialized; a new concept of desire.

* * * * *

Cully's body turned and crawled away from the wonderful, dying garden,
oblivious to the pleadings floating, now weakly, in the torpid water. He
scuffed up little motes of golden sand, leaving a low-lying scud along
the bottom, back to the little black box in the garden. The plants, the
box, all were forgotten by now. Cully crawled on, not knowing why. A
rise appeared; surprise caught Cully unaware. A change in the sameness!

_Where is it?_

Again the voice was insistent. His desire was close ahead; he did not
look back at the black churning on the sea bottom. His legs worked, his
chest heaved, words swirled in his mind. He topped the rise.

Below him, in the center of a shallow golden bowl, floated a long, shiny
cylinder. Even from here he knew it was huge. He knew other things about
it: how heavy it was; how it was; that it carried others of his kind. He
had been in it before. And they were waiting for him. He lurched on.

"Captain! Here comes Cully!" the midshipman shouted from the airlock.
"Look what they've done to him!"

The old man's grey eyes took in the spectacle without visible emotion.
He watched the pathetic, bleeding yellow plastic sack crawl up to the
ship and look up. His hands reached down and lifted Cully up into the
lock.

They took his suit off and stared with loathing at what had once been a
man. A white scar zig-zagged across his forehead. The Captain bent
close, in range of the dim blue eyes.

"It was a brave thing you did, Cully. The whole system will be grateful.
Venus could never be colonized as long as those cannibals were there to
eat men, and drive men mad." Cully fingered the