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Piecky was going to tell a story. The Dagses held up his arm for the gesturing, though he could make only the most limited motions with it. He scratched his face with his hand. “That’s great, that’s wonderful,” he said over and over. “You people don’t know how to make use of your bodies.”

A few slaps by the Dagses brought him around. He began to tell the story.

“It was a lovely dream.” Piecky closed his eyes. “I was floating in air… It was heavenly… I had these black, flat wings on my sides, the kind we see sometimes on the viewscreen… The air moved with me. It was wonderfully cool,” he said more softly, as if to himself. “Moosy was flying beside me. Her wings were bright green. She had four wings and flapped them so nicely, I was sorry I was only Piecky…”

From the corner came a gurgle.

“Tavegner asks you to speak up,” said Snorg, and the next hollow gurgle confirmed that.

“All right. The room became smaller and smaller,” he continued, “and everything around me got greener and greener. Both the Dagses were flying below us, going in the same direction we were… and it was wonderful, because the sky we were flying toward was an enormous viewscreen, and as you got nearer, you could see the pixels. I could move in any direction…”

From the corner where Moosy’s box was came a quiet sob. Snorg pulled himself toward her.

“Do you need anything?” he asked.

“I wanted to call you, because if one of the Dagses comes, he’ll do the thing I hate again. Put me next to Piecky, could you?” she asked.

“Did his story move you?” Snorg asked Moosy, regarding her. Unlike Piecky, she had all her limbs, though they were shriveled.

“It’s not Piecky, it’s Tavegner,” she said through her tears. “The last time Piecky told a story, Tavegner asked to speak by letters… and he said… he said he wanted to go into the grinder instead of Piecky…”

“Grinder?”

“Piecky learned about it a long time ago,” Moosy explained. “He analyzes everything they say on the viewscreen. They pick the best of us… those who are formed the best, and the rest-go into the grinder.”

“You mean, the thing they show on the viewscreen and call war?”

She nodded yes. “Put me next to Piecky,” she said. “Every time he finishes telling his beautiful dream, he’s so feeble…”

Making a tremendous effort, Snorg lifted Moosy from her box and put her in the crib Piecky lay in, after which he had to slide back to the floor in a hurry, because Tib was soiling herself. He attached the sucker to her. When she was finished, he grasped her hips with all his strength and pulled himself to his knees.

“Don’t do it that way, all right… ?” he said, looking up at her. Tib looked down and saw his face twisted with effort. Her ears stuck out a little, and the light shone through them. They seemed extraordinarily beautiful. He clenched his numb jaw and took Tib by the shoulders. He felt that she was helping him, not pulling away but trying to stand straight to support him. She continued staring at his face. Between her parted lips, white teeth were visible.

Rising, Snorg felt large, gigantic… He stood. For the first time he stood on his paralyzed legs. Now he was looking at her not from below but from above… looking at Tib, who was as high as the sky.

Everyone stopped talking.

He decided to take a step. He felt power… Suddenly he saw that one of his feet was moving toward her…

“Tib! I’m walking…” It was meant to be a shout, but it came out as a snort or sob. Suddenly the Room swayed, and Snorg fell flat on his back with a crash.

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