Fear that man

attendants.
         The last thing he remembered seeing was an old man, a Christian, cradled between the broken halves of God’s face, mumbling and content with his sanctuary…
        He pulled himself away from Hurkos, shook his head. That had been the stranger’s dream. How had he experienced it?
        Hurkos opened his eyes. They were chunks of polished coal, dark jewels threatening many secrets. His mouth was very dry, and when he tried to speak the corners of his lips cracked and spilled blood. The nameless man brought water. Finally: “It didn’t work, then.” Hurkos had a deep, commanding voice.
        “What didn’t work? What were you doing out there?”
        Hurkos smiled. “Trying to kill myself.”
        “Suicide?”
        “They call it that.” He sipped more water.
        “Because Belina died?”
        Hurkos bristled. “How did you…?” After a moment: “I guess I told you.”
        “Yes. How could I hear your dreams like that?”
        Hurkos looked puzzled for a moment. “I’m a telepath, of course. Sometimes I project, some rarer times I read thoughts. A very unstable talent. I project mostly when I’m asleep-or under pressure.”
        “But how did you get out there without a ship?”
        “After I was released from the hospital-after Belina’s death and the crucifix incident-I signed on the Space Razzle as a cargo handler. When we were relatively far out in untraveled space, I went into the hold, disconnected the alarms from the pressure chamber, and left. I won’t be missed until pay day.”
        “But why not step out without a suit? That would be quicker.”
        Hurkos smiled an unsmile. “I guess a little of the healing did take hold. I guess we can recover from anything.” But he did not look recovered. “Right now, my talent is fading. I can’t see a name in your mind.”
        He hesitated. “You can’t see a name… because I have none.” Briefly, he recounted the story of the waking, the amnesia, the strangeness of the ship.
        Hurkos was excited. Here was something in which he could submerge his grief, his melancholia. “We are going to make a real search of this tub, you and me. But first, you ought to have a name.”
        “What?”
        “How about-Sam?” He paused. “After a friend of mine.”
        “I like it. Who was the friend?”
        “A dog I bought on Callileo.”
        “Thanks!”
        “He was noble.”
        With the preliminaries out of the way, Sam could no longer contain his curiosity. “We both have names now. We know I am a man-but what are you?”
        Hurkos looked startled. “You don’t know what a Mue is?”
        “No. I guess maybe I have been gone too long. Maybe I left before there were Mues around.”
        “Then you left a thousand years ago-and you went damn far away!”

----

    III
        
        Hurkos came padding down the narrow corridor and into the main chamber. “Nothing at all!” he said, incredulous.
        They had been searching for six hours, looking through and behind everything. Still, no clues. During the time they had pried about together, however, Sam had filled in a few gaps in his education; Hurkos had recounted the history of the Mues. Once, well over a thousand years before, man had tried to make other men with the aid of artificial wombs, large tanks of semi-hydroponic nature that took sperm and egg of their own making and worked at forming babies. But after hundreds and hundreds of attempts, nothing exceedingly worthwhile had come of it. They had been attempting to produce men with psionic abilities valuable as weapons of war. Sometimes they came close, but never did they truly succeed. Then, when the project was finally junked, they had five hundred mutated children on their hands. This was a time when mankind was laying down its weapons for tools of friendship. Most looked upon the wombs as a hideous arm of the war effort that should never have been started in the first place-and they looked upon the Mue children with pity and shame. There was a great public outcry when the government hinted that the Mues might be put quietly and painlessly to sleep. Though some people did not consider them human, the vast majority of the population could not tolerate so horrid a slaughter with the Permanent Peace only months behind them. The Mues lived. In fifteen years, they had equality by law. In another hundred, they had it in reality. And they mated and had more of