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<v Speaker 1>Cully by Jack Egan above him, eighty feet of torpid

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<v Speaker 1>blackwater hung like a shroud of death. And still he

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<v Speaker 1>heard his ragged breathing and something else. Colley concentrated on

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<v Speaker 1>that sound and the rhythmic pulsing of his heart. Somehow

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<v Speaker 1>he had to retain a hold on his sanity or

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<v Speaker 1>his soul. After an hour of careful breathing and exploring

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<v Speaker 1>of body sensations, Cully realized he could move. He flexed

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<v Speaker 1>an arm a mode of gold sand sifted upward in

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<v Speaker 1>dark water. It had a pleasant color in contrast with

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<v Speaker 1>the ominous shades of the sea. In a few moments,

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<v Speaker 1>he had struggled to a sitting position, delighting in the

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<v Speaker 1>curtain of glittering metal grains swirling around him as he moved.

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<v Speaker 1>And the other sound a humming in his mind, a

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<v Speaker 1>distant burble of tiny voices of other minds, words swirling

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<v Speaker 1>in giddy patterns he couldn't understand. Shortly thereafter, Cully discovered

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<v Speaker 1>why he still lived. Breathed a suit, a yellow plastic

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<v Speaker 1>watertight suit with an orange on black shield on the

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<v Speaker 1>left breast pocket and a clear bubble helmet. He felt

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<v Speaker 1>weight on his back and examined it. Two air tanks

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<v Speaker 1>and their regulator, a radio and the box suit tanks regulator, radio,

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<v Speaker 1>blackwater box, sand sea stillness. Colley considered his world. It

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<v Speaker 1>was small, it was conceivable, it was incomplete. Where is it?

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<v Speaker 1>Where's what? He knew? He had a voice, means of

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<v Speaker 1>communication between others of his kind using low frequency heat

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<v Speaker 1>waves caused by agitation of air molecules. Why couldn't he

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<v Speaker 1>make it work? Words thousands of him at his beck

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<v Speaker 1>and call? What were they? What did they mean? He shoff?

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<v Speaker 1>He shifted uncomfortably in the tight yellow suit and searching

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<v Speaker 1>the near horizon for where is it? A vague calling

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<v Speaker 1>came from beyond the black sea curtain. Objectively, because he

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<v Speaker 1>could do nothing to stop them. He watched his seat

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<v Speaker 1>his feet pick up, move forward, put down, pick up,

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<v Speaker 1>move forward, put down. Funny. He had the feeling the

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<v Speaker 1>concept that this action held, meaning it was supposed to

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<v Speaker 1>cause some reaction, accomplish an act. He wondered at the

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<v Speaker 1>regular movement of his legs, one of them hurt. A

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<v Speaker 1>heart is a sensation of pain caused by overloading sensory

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<v Speaker 1>units in the body. A heart is bad because it

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<v Speaker 1>indicates something is wrong. Something certainly was wrong. Something stirred

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<v Speaker 1>in Cully's mind. He stopped and sat down on the

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<v Speaker 1>sandy sea bottom, gracefully like a ballet dancer. He examined

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<v Speaker 1>his foot. There's a tiny hole in the yellow plastic fabric,

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<v Speaker 1>and a thin string of red black was oozing out blood.

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<v Speaker 1>He knew he was bleeding. He could do nothing about it.

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<v Speaker 1>He got up and resumed walking. Where is it? Colly

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<v Speaker 1>lifted his head into annoyance at the sharp thought. Go away,

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<v Speaker 1>he said, in a low, pleading voice. The sound made

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<v Speaker 1>him feel better. He began muttering to himself, water, black, sand, heart, pain,

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<v Speaker 1>radio tanks. It didn't sound right. After a few minutes

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<v Speaker 1>he was quiet. The many thoughts were calling him. He

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<v Speaker 1>must go to the many thoughts. If his foot was bleeding,

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<v Speaker 1>then something had happened. If something had happened, then his

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<v Speaker 1>foot was bleeding. No. If something had happened, then maybe

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<v Speaker 1>other things had happened before that. But how could something

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<v Speaker 1>happen in a world of flat gold sand and flaccid sea.

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<v Speaker 1>Surely there was something wrong wrong, the state of being

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<v Speaker 1>not right. Something had happened that was not right. Culli

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<v Speaker 1>stared at the edges of the unmoving curtain before him.

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<v Speaker 1>Where is it? It was a driving, promise filled concept,

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<v Speaker 1>no words, just the sense that something wonderful lay just

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<v Speaker 1>beyond reach. But this voice was different from the many

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<v Speaker 1>thoughts it was directing his body. His mind was along

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<v Speaker 1>for the ride. The sameness of the sea and sand

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<v Speaker 1>became on bearable. It was too right. Somehow, Cully felt

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<v Speaker 1>anger and kicked up eddies of dust. It changed the

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<v Speaker 1>sameness a little. He kicked more up until it swirled

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<v Speaker 1>around him, a thick gold haze blotting out the terrible

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<v Speaker 1>emptiness of the sea. He felt another weight at his side.

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<v Speaker 1>He found a holster and a gun. He recognized neither

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<v Speaker 1>again he watched. He watched objectively as his hand pulled

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<v Speaker 1>the black object out and handled it. His body was

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<v Speaker 1>evidently familiar with it, though it was strange to his eyes.

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<v Speaker 1>His fingers slipped automatically into the trigger sheath. His legs

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<v Speaker 1>were still working under two drives. The many thoughts urging,

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<v Speaker 1>and something else buried in him, a longing up and down,

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<v Speaker 1>back and forth. Where is it? Anger? Frustration flared in him.

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<v Speaker 1>His hand shot out gun it ready. He turned around

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<v Speaker 1>slowly through the settling trail of suspended sand. Nothing was

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<v Speaker 1>visible again. He was moving. Something made his legs move.

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<v Speaker 1>He walked on through the shrouds of death until he

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<v Speaker 1>felt a taut singing in his nerves. An irrational fear

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<v Speaker 1>sprang out in him, cascading down his spine, and Cully

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<v Speaker 1>shuddered ahead. There was some thing. Two motives. Get there

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<v Speaker 1>because it, they calls, Get there, because you must. Where

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<v Speaker 1>is it? The mind voice was excited, demanding something was

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<v Speaker 1>out there besides the sameness. Cully walked on, trailing gold.

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<v Speaker 1>The death curtain parted, an undulating garden of blue and gold.

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<v Speaker 1>Streamers suddenly drifted toward him on an unfelt current. Cully

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<v Speaker 1>was held entranced. They flowed before him, their colors dazzling, hypnotic,

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<v Speaker 1>come closer, earthling. The many thoughts spoke inside his head, soothingly,

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<v Speaker 1>Here it is Cully's mind, and shouted. Kully's mind was

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<v Speaker 1>held hypnotized, but his body moved of its own volition.

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<v Speaker 1>He moved again. His mind and the many thoughts spoke fulfillment.

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<v Speaker 1>Almost there was one action left that must be completed.

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<v Speaker 1>Kullay's arms moved. They detached the small black box from

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<v Speaker 1>his belt. He moved on into the midst of the

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<v Speaker 1>weaving gold laced plants. Little spicules licked out from their

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<v Speaker 1>flexing stalks and jabbed uncensed into Kully's body. To draw

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<v Speaker 1>nourishment from the many thoughts came the sense of complete

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<v Speaker 1>fulfillment from Kelly's mind. Came further orders. Lie down. It

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<v Speaker 1>was a collective concept. Lie still, we are friends. He

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<v Speaker 1>could not understand. There were speaking words, words were beyond him.

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<v Speaker 1>His head shook in despair. The voices were implanting in

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<v Speaker 1>a motion of horror at what his hands were doing.

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<v Speaker 1>But he had no control over his body. It was

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<v Speaker 1>as if it were not his. The black box was

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<v Speaker 1>now lying in the sand among the streaming plants. Cully's

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<v Speaker 1>fingers reached out and caressed a small panel. A soundless

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<v Speaker 1>click ran through the murkiness. The strangely beautiful gold laced

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<v Speaker 1>blue plants began a writhing dance. Their spicules withdrew and jabbed,

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<v Speaker 1>withdrew and jabbed. A rending, silent scream tore the quiet waters. No,

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<v Speaker 1>they cried. It was a negative command mixed in with

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<v Speaker 1>the terrible screaming. Turn it off, stop it, stop it.

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<v Speaker 1>Kully tried to say, but there were no words. He

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<v Speaker 1>tried to cover his ears within the helmet, but the

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<v Speaker 1>cries went on. Emotions roiled the water, pain, hurt, reproach.

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<v Speaker 1>Cully sobbed. Something was wrong here, something was killing the plants,

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<v Speaker 1>the beautiful blue things. The plants were withering, dying. He

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<v Speaker 1>looked up at them, stupefied, not understanding. Tea streaming down

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<v Speaker 1>his face. And what did they want from him? What

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<v Speaker 1>had he done? Where is it? A different direction materialized,

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<v Speaker 1>a new concept of desire. Cully's body turned and crawled

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<v Speaker 1>away from the wonderful, dying garden, oblivious to the pleadings

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<v Speaker 1>floating now weakly in the torpid water. He scuffed, He

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<v Speaker 1>scuffed up little motes of golden sand, leaving a low

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<v Speaker 1>lying scud along the bottom, Back to the little black

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<v Speaker 1>box in the garden. The plants, the box all were

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<v Speaker 1>forgotten by now. Cully crawled on, not knowing why. A

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<v Speaker 1>rise appeared. Surprise caught Kully unaware, a change in the sameness.

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<v Speaker 1>Where is it again? The voice was insistent, His desire

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<v Speaker 1>was close ahead. He did not look back at the

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<v Speaker 1>black churning on the sea bottom. His legs worked, his chest,

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<v Speaker 1>heaved words swirled in his mind. He topped the rise

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<v Speaker 1>below him. In the center of a shallow golden bowl,

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<v Speaker 1>floated a long, shiny cylinder. Even from here he knew

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<v Speaker 1>what it was huge. He knew other things about it,

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<v Speaker 1>how heavy it was, how it was that it carried

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<v Speaker 1>others of his kind. He had been in it before,

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<v Speaker 1>and they were waiting for him. He lurched, on, Captain,

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<v Speaker 1>here comes Cully. The midshipman shouted from the airlock. Look

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<v Speaker 1>what they've done to him. The old man's gray eyes

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<v Speaker 1>took in the spectacle without visible emotion. He watched the pathetic, bleeding,

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<v Speaker 1>yellow plastic sack crawl up to the ship and look up.

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<v Speaker 1>His hands reached down and lifted Cully up into the lock.

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<v Speaker 1>They took his suit off and stared with loathing at

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<v Speaker 1>what had once been a man. A white scar zigzagged

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<v Speaker 1>across his forehead. The captain bent close in range of

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<v Speaker 1>the dim blue eyes. It was a brave thing you did, Cully.

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<v Speaker 1>The whole system will be grateful. Venus could never be

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<v Speaker 1>colonized as long as those cannibals were there to eat

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<v Speaker 1>men and drive men mad. Cully fingered the scar on

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<v Speaker 1>his forehead and looked unseen into the old man's compassionate eyes.

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<v Speaker 1>I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Cully. We all are. But there

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<v Speaker 1>was no other way, prefrontal lobotomy, destruction of your speech center.

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<v Speaker 1>It was the only way you could get past the

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<v Speaker 1>telepaths and destroy them. I'm sorry, Cully. The race of

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<v Speaker 1>man shall long honor your name. Cully smiled at the

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<v Speaker 1>old man, the words churning in his brain, but he

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<v Speaker 1>did not understand. Where is it? The emptiness was still there,

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<v Speaker 1>and of Cully by Jack Egan