When Sadik was calm enough to let go of him, Shevek left her sitting on the front step of the dormitory, and went in to tell the vigilkeeper that she would be staying with the parents this night. The vigilkeeper spoke coldly to him. Adults who worked in children’s dormitories had a natural tendency to disapprove of overnight dom visits, finding them disruptive; Shevek told himself he was probably mistaken in feeling anything more than such disapproval in the vigilkeeper. The halls of the learning center were brightly lit, ringing with noise, music practice, children’s voices. There were all the old sounds, the smells, the shadows, the echoes of childhood which Shevek remembered, and with him the fears. One forgets the fears.

He came out and walked home with Sadik, his arms around her thin shoulders. She was silent, still struggling. She said abruptly as they came to their entry in the Pekesh main domicile, “I know it isn’t agreeable for you and Takver to have me overnight.”

“Where did you get that idea?”

“Because you want privacy, adult couples need privacy.”

“There’s Pilun,” he observed.

“Pilun doesn’t count.”

“Neither do you.”

She sniffled, attempting to smile.

When they came into the light of the room, however, her white, red-patched, puffy face at once startled Takver into saying, “Whatever is wrong?”—and Pilun, interrupted in sucking, startled out of bliss, began to howl, at which Sadik broke down again, and for a while it appeared that everyone was crying, and comforting each other, and refusing comfort. This sorted out quite suddenly into silence, Pilun on the mother’s lap, Sadik on the father’s.

When the baby was replete and put down to sleep, Takver said in a low but impassioned voice, “Now! What is it?”

Sadik had gone half to sleep herself, her head on Shevek’s chest. He could feel her gather herself to answer. He stroked her hair to keep her quiet, and answered for her. “Some people at the learning center disapprove of us.”

“And by damn what damned right have they to disapprove of us?”

“Shh, shh. Of the Syndicate.”

“Oh,” Takver said, a queer guttural noise, and in buttoning up her tunic she tore the button right off the fabric. She stood looking down at it on her palm. Then she looked at Shevek and Sadik.

“How long has this been going on?”

“A long time,” Sadik said, not lifting her head.

“Days, decads, all quarter?”

“Oh, longer. But they get… they’re meaner in the dorm now. At night. Terzol doesn’t stop them.” Sadik spoke rather like a sleep-talker, and quite serenely, as if the matter no longer concerned her.

“What do they do?” Takver asked, though Shevek’s gaze warned her.

“Well, they… they’re just mean. They keep me out of the games and things. Tip, you know, she was a friend, she used to come and talk at least after lights out. But she stopped. Terzol is the big sister in the dorm now, and she’s… she says, ‘Shevek is—Shevek—’ ”