The Grad looked up. His face was a mask of pain. A keening moan tore through his throat. Crystal lenses trembled over his eyes. Tears didn't run here, without tide to pull them.

Clave put his hand on the Grad's shoulder. "Take a minute. Take as long as you need."

"I've been trying not to . . . think about it. The Scientist. He knew. He sent these with me. What good does it do if we're dying too?"

"We're not dying. We're a little thirsty," Clave said firmly.

"We're all dead except us! I feel like recording it makes it real."

Clave glared around him. The tears were about to become contagious. Jayan and Jinny were sniffling already. Minya had to remind herself that Dalton-Quinn Tuft still lived, invisibly far, somewhere.

Clave snapped, "Come on, Scientist. You've got a marriage to perform."

The Grad gulped and nodded. Teardrops broke loose and floated

away, the size of tuftberries. He cleared his throat and said in a creditably crisp voice, "Prikazyvat Record. The tree has been torn in half. Seven of us survive, plus a refugee from the outer tuft. Marriage between Minya Dalton-Quinn and Gavving Quinn exists as of now. No children are yet born. Terminate." He pulled the box from the mirror and said, "You're married."

Minya was stunned. "That's it?"

"That's it. My first act as Scientist. Tradition says you should cons~immate the marriage the first chance you-"

"Just what have you got there?" Aluin demanded.

"Everything I need," the Grad said. "This cassette is recent records.

It used to be medicine, but the Scientist ran out of room and erased it.

We couldn't use that stuff anyway. St.armen got sick in ways nobody

ever heard of and used medicines nobody ever heard of either .

This cassette is life forms, this one is cosmology, this one is old records.

They're all classified, of course."

"Classified?"

"Secret." The Grad started rolling the gear in clothing again.

Clave said, "Hold it."

The Grad looked at him.

"Is there anything in your classified knowledge that we might need to know, to go on living?" Clave paused, not long enough for the Grad to answer. "If not, why should we guard that stufl or let you carry it to slow you down?" Pause. "If so, you're hiding knowledge we need. Why should we protect you?"

The Grad gaped.

"Grad, you're valuable. We're down to eight, we can't spare even one. But if you know why we need a Scientist more than an apprentice hunter, you'd better show us now."

It was as if the Grad had been frozen with his mouth open. Then

he gave a jerky nod. He chose a cassette and fitted it into the rim

of the nonmirror. He said, "Prikazyvat Find moby: em, oh, bee, wye."