The Scientist entered the hut with the air of a blind man. His hands were bloody to the elbows. He scraped at them with handfuls of foliage, talking under his breath. "Damn, damn drillbits. They just burrow in, no way to stop them." He looked up. "Grad?"

"Day. Who were you talking to, yourself?"

"Yes." He scrubbed at his arms ferociously, then hurled the wads of bloody foliage away from him. "Martal's dead. A drillbit burrowed into her. I probably killed her myself digging it out, but she'd have died anyway…you can't leave drillbit eggs. Have you heard about the expedition?"

"Yes. Barely. I can't get anyone to tell me anything."

The Scientist pulled a handful of foliage from the wall and tried to scrub the scalpel clean. He hadn't looked at the Grad. "What do you think?"

The Grad had come in a fury and grown yet angrier while waiting in an empty hut. He tried to keep that out of his voice. "I think the Chairman's trying to get rid of some citizens he doesn't like. What I want to know is, why me?"

"The Chairman's a fool. He thinks science could have stopped the drought."

"Then you're in trouble too?" The Grad got it then. "You blamed it on me."

The Scientist looked at him at last. The Grad thought he saw guilt there, but the eyes were steady. "I let him think you were to blame, yes. Now, there are some things I want you to have—"

Incredulous laughter was his answer. "What, more gear to carry up a hundred klomters of trunk?"

"Grad…Jeffer. What have I told you about the tree? We've studied the universe together, but the most important thing in it is the tree. Didn't I teach you that everything that lives has a way of staying near the Smoke Ring median, where there's air and water and soil?"

"Everything but trees and men."

"Integral trees have a way. I taught you."