you while they worked. Maybe they thought ifd help soften
you up goad you into making some mistake that would
make the job of getting in to you easier. Or maybe they did it
just because they enjoyed it. Because it made them feel good.”
After a short silence, Sweeney said, “Maybe that was it.
Maybe not. I don’t know, Mike.”
She turned to him suddenly and took him by the shoul-
ders. Her eyes were crystal blue. “How could you know?” she
said, her fingers digging into his deltoid muscles. “How could
you know anything when there was nobody to tell you? The
Earth must be full of lies about us nowlies, and nothing but
lies! You’ve got to forget themforget them alljust as
though you’d just been born. You have just been born, Don,
believe me. Only just. What they fed you on the Moon was
lies; you’ve got to start learning the truth here, learning it
from the beginning, like a child!”
She held him a moment longer. She was actually shaking
him. Sweeney did not know what to say; he did not even know
what emotion to mimic. The emotion he felt was still almost
unknown; he did not dare let it show, let alone let it loose.
While the girl looked furiously into his eyes, he could not
even blink.
After all, he really had been born some time ago. Born
dead.
The painful, tenfold pressure on his shoulders changed
suddenly to a residual tingling over a deep ache, and Mike’s
hands dropped to her sides. She looked away, across the
Gouge again. “It’s no use,” she said indistinctly. “I’m sorry.
That’s a hell of a way for a girl to talk to her uncle.”