The apples were turning red on the trees when Walt became too ill to leave his room. Two more girls were pregnant; one of them was a Five. Every day David spent hours with Walt, no longer wanting to work at all in the laboratory, feeling an outsider in the classrooms, where the Ones were gradually taking over the teaching duties.

"You might have to deliver those babies come spring," Walt said, grinning. "Might start a class in delivery procedures. Walt-three is ready, I guess."

"We'll manage," David said. "Don't worry about it. I expect you'll be there."

"Maybe. Maybe." Walt closed his eyes for a moment, and without opening them said, "You were right about them, David. They're up to something."

David leaned forward and unconsciously lowered his voice. "What do you know?"

Walt looked at him and shook his head slightly. "About as much as you did when you first came to me in early summer. No more than that. David, find out what they're doing in the lab. And find out what they think about the pregnant girls. Those two things. Soon." Turning away from David, he added, "Harry tells me they have devised a new immersion suspension system that doesn't require the artificial placentas. They're adding them as fast as they can." He sighed. "Harry has cracked, David. Senile or crazy. W-one can't do anything for him."

David stood up, but hesitated. "Walt, I think it's time you told me. What's wrong with you?"

"Get out of here, damn it," Walt said, but the timbre of his voice was gone, the force that should have propelled David from the room was not there. For a moment Walt looked helpless and vulnerable, but deliberately he closed his eyes, and this time his voice was a growl. "Get out. I'm tired. I need rest."

David walked along the river for a long time. He hadn't been in the lab for weeks, months perhaps. No one needed him in the lab any longer. He felt in the way there. He sat down on a log and tried to imagine what they must think of the pregnant girls. They would revere them. The bearers of life, so few among so many. Was Walt afraid a matriarchy of some sort would develop? It could. They had discussed that years ago, and then dismissed it as one of the things they could not control. A new religion might come about, but even if the elders knew it was happening, what could they do about it? What should they do about it? He threw twigs into the smooth water, which moved without a ripple, all of a piece on that calm, cold night, and he knew that he didn't care.