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Updated: June 11, 2025
Calhoun considered, staring at her. "How it happened doesn't matter," he said at last. "The idea of anybody doing it deliberately would be disturbing, too. It shouldn't get about. So it seems much the best thing for Korvan to discover what's happened to the blueskin pigment, and how it happened, but not why." She read his face carefully. "You aren't doing it as a favor to me," she decided.
There were biological samples to be replaced and some to be destroyed. Maril came to the Med Ship again when he was almost ready to leave. She did not seem comfortable. "I wanted you to meet Korvan," she said regretfully. "I met him," said Calhoun. "I think he will be a most prominent citizen, in time. He has all the talents for it." Maril smiled very faintly. "But you don't admire him."
You could have settled there, or anywhere else and forgotten about Dara. But you didn't. Why not, since you're not a blueskin?" "But I am!" she said fiercely. "My parents, my brothers and sisters, and Korvan ." Then she bit her lip. Calhoun took note but did not comment on the name that she had mentioned. "Then your parents had the splotches fade, so you never had them," he said absorbedly.
"I was born among blueskins, and they're of my blood, and they're hated and I'd have been killed on Weald if I'd been known as what I am! And there's Korvan, who arranged for me to be sent away as a spy and advised me to do just what you said, abandon my home world and everybody I care about! Including him! It's personal to me!" Calhoun wrinkled his forehead helplessly.
"I like you almost as much as I like Murgatroyd! Yes! Korvan will never know, and he'll be a great man." Then she added defensively, "And not just from these books! He'll make his own wonderful discoveries." "Of which," said Calhoun, "the most remarkable is you. Good luck Maril!" Presently the Med Ship lifted. Calhoun aimed it for the next planet on the list of those he was to visit.
She shook her head, but it was not easy to tell whether she denied the reaction of Korvan whom Calhoun had never met or denied that he was more important to her than anything else. The last was what Calhoun plainly implied. "You don't seem to be trying to be a hero!" she protested. "I'd enjoy it," admitted Calhoun, "but I have a job to do. It's got to be done.
She shook her head, but it was not easy to tell whether she denied the reaction of Korvan, whom Calhoun had never met, or denied that he was more important to her than anything else. The last was what Calhoun plainly implied. "You don't seem to be trying to be a hero!" she protested. "I'd enjoy it," admitted Calhoun, "but I have a job to do. It's got to be done.
There are two questions about it: who's to be kept alive and why." The ground-car aimed now for a cluster of faintly brighter lights on the far side of the great open space. They enlarged as they grew nearer. Maril said hesitantly; "There was someone Korvan " Calhoun didn't catch the rest of the name, Maril said hesitantly; "He was working on food-plants.
Calhoun blinked. "Yes...." "Korvan," said Maril very carefully, "Has worked out an idea that that's what happens to the blueskin markings on us Darians. He thinks that people almost dead of the plague could get the virus, and if they recovered from the plague pass the virus on and be blueskins." "Interesting," said Calhoun, noncommittally.
Maril had vanished, to visit or return to her family, or perhaps to consult with the mysterious Korvan who'd arranged for her to leave Dara to be a spy, and had advised her simply to make a new life somewhere else, abandoning a famine-ridden, despised, and outcast world. Calhoun had learned of two achievements the same Korvan had made for his world. Neither was remarkably constructive.
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