“You

here.”
“Very well . . . Graylock,” Dr. Egavine resumed, “you will cooperate with me fully and to the best of your ability now, knowing that I am both your master and friend. Are any of the other men who came here on those two ships down by the water still alive?”
There was complete stillness for a second or two. Then Graylock’s face began to work unpleasantly, all color draining from it. He said harshly, “No. But I . . . I don’t . . .” He stammered incomprehensibly, went silent again, his expression wooden and set.
“Graylock,” Egavine continued to probe, “you can remember everything now, and you are not afraid. Tell me what happened to the other men.”
Sweat covered the castaway’s ashen face. His mouth twisted in agonized, silent grimaces again. The bird thing leaped from his shoulder with a small purring sound, fluttered softly away.
Dr. Egavine repeated, “You are not afraid. You can remember. What happened to them? How did they die?”
And abruptly the big man’s face smoothed out. He looked from Egavine to Dasinger and back with an air of brief puzzlement, then explained conversationally, “Why, Hovig’s generator killed many of us as we ran away from the Antares. Some reached the edges of the circle with me, and I killed them