Part 2

Tom had the feeling he was trying to argue with an ostrich with its head in the sand. What would Willie do for food if his crops failed when the emergency rations were gone? Willie was gambling his life for a dream, but he didn't know it. Willie saw only what he wanted to see, disregarding everything else. Arguing was useless. The only way they could get Willie back aboard was to carry him back.

"Well, okay, Willie," Tom said. "I'll go back and tell Bart. But I'll get him to hold the ship until tomorrow if you should change your mind."

"I won't," Willie said. "So long, Tom." He held out his hand. "You've been a swell guy."

Tom took the hand and shook it.

"So long, Willie. I'll be back someday, to see how you're making out." He started back down the narrow beach. Along the way, he decided that they would have to catch Willie and take him back to Earth for hospitalization. Coming back with Bart wouldn't be breaking his word. That had only been for the time he had talked to Willie.

Bart heard Tom's report in his usual way. "Let's go," was his only comment.

They climbed up the crumbling red rock and followed the edge of the cliff. They climbed over the small boulders, around the huge ones, endlessly finding the way blocked, but each time going back a little and by going around, finding a new way that was clear. The sun was halfway to the western horizon when they stopped to rest on a pile of small boulders near the top. Tom leaned back against the rock behind him. A trickle of sweat ran down his ribs from his armpit under his coveralls.

Bart snorted through his nose. "It'll be dark soon." He wiped his arm across his forehead, the sweat making a dark stain on the sleeve. "Damn that fool Willie. He'll pay for this when we get him back to Earth. He must be crazy or something."

"My God," Tom said. "Is that finally dawning on you?"

Bart looked up at Tom, his dark brown eyes small in his broad sweat-streaked face. As he continued to stare at Tom without saying anything, Tom felt the stir of annoyance, then the beginning of hot tempered anger. They sat and waited, looking for the movement Willie would make if he showed himself. Nothing stirred in the yellow-green ferns below. After an hour of watching, Bart got to his feet.

"He's holed up somewhere and pulled the hole in after him. Let's get down there and drag him out." He started back down the ridge the way they had come up.

Halfway down, as they stopped for a breather, Tom noted the height of the sun. It was going to be dark before they could work their way back to the ship. A low bank of rolling grey clouds lay all along the straight horizon line of the sea; as the sun sank behind the clouds, it turned the edges of them to fiery red.

Bart hurried down the ridge, watching only for a glimpse of Willie, but Tom looked at the sunset occasionally, trying to store up the memory of the color for the months ahead.

As they reached the stream cliff, Tom stopped Bart.

"Bart, I've got an idea. It's almost dark. Willie will think we've headed back to get to the ship before it's too dark to find our way. He's probably sitting on a rock, watching the sunset and daydreaming. Let's look on the edge of this little cliff where it ends at the sea."

"O.K.," Bart said, leading the way. The only light left was the reflected red light of the clouds that made long dark shadows behind the rocks.

They came around the rocks, onto the cliff point overlooking the sea and the cove, and there was Willie, sitting with his back to a big rock, his chin resting on his cupped hands, gazing dreamily out to sea.

"Willie!" Bart shouted, lunging for him.

Willie jerked around to see them, then he was up and sliding down the loose rock into the shadowy cove below.

"Grab him, Tom," Bart shouted as he went sliding and falling down, the loose rock after him.

Tom jumped down the rocks to the bottom and slid to a stop, the loose rocks rolling down around him, but Willie was deep in the ferns with only his head and shoulders showing.

Bart had the automatic pistol out and pointed at Willie. "Stop you crazy fool, or I'll shoot," he shouted, his voice echoing off the cliffs. Willie only crashed into the ferns more desperately.

Bart raised the automatic and fired a burst of shots, the sharp explosions echoing shatteringly around them. Tom made a flying tackle and smashed into Bart. They went down in the ferns, struggling for the gun, until Bart managed to roll and push his way to his feet.

"Knock it off," Bart shouted. "What the hell are you trying to do?"

"Keep you from killing him," Tom shouted back as he got to his feet.

"I wasn't trying to kill him," Bart snapped. "I was trying to scare him into stopping so we could grab him, now he's got clean away in those damn ferns." He waved a hand helplessly at the mass of dark vegetation. Willie was gone all right. "Now we'll have to spend days hunting for that lunatic. Next time let me handle it. I'm the captain of this expedition."

"Okay," Tom said angrily, "but let's catch him, not kill him. He hasn't done anything, just wants to be alone, that's all."

"He's deserted," Bart said, "and he signed articles, so that's a crime. How the hell am I going to explain a lost crewman when we go back. And on my first trip as captain."

"That's your worry," Tom said. "He's colonizing, not deserting."

"You should have been a lawyer," Bart said as he put the gun in his holster. "But this isn't getting that screwball aboard." He groped in the pocket of his coveralls and pulled out a small packlight. The white searchbeam lit up the ferns around them with glaring brightness. "Come on, let's try to find him." He led the way into the ferns.

They hunted through the ferns, forcing their way every step. The searchbeam was only good for a few feet in the dense growth. They knew Willie was close, but in the ferns they could almost step on him and not know it.

At last Bart gave up. "Let's go back to the ship. We'll come back in the morning, when it's light." Following him along the beach toward the ship, Tom had the feeling that in the morning might be too late. Willie might have been hit by the burst of shots, or he might take off in the ferns so far they never could find him.

* * * * *

Tom rolled out of his bunk at the first bell, wincing at his sore muscles. After getting the first aid kit from the bathroom, he quietly walked down the narrow passageway and out into the bright sunlight. As he walked through the grey ash to the strip of red sand, the quiet was like a blanket over everything, after the soft hum of the living ship. The breeze blew softly against his face, hummed past his ears, and rustled the ferns. The sea was glass smooth as far as he could see across its surface, smooth right up to where the water turned deep green as it got shallower. He could understand why Willie wanted to stay here. It was a perfect place for anyone who loved solitude and there was probably none like it in the whole system.

He thought of how a man could live here, with no one to bother him, nothing to buy, no need to do any more than just produce enough food to live. A little shack to keep off the rain, a little field to grow food.

But there would be no one to talk to, no one to share experiences and troubles and little triumphs, no one to laugh with, no challenge to overcome, no excitement.

"Not for me," Tom said aloud, and his voice was strange in the quiet. "Boy, this place puts a spell on a guy, almost hypnotizes him." He laughed aloud. "Even got me talking to myself." He hurried on to hunt for Willie.

Then he came to the little cove where Willie had his camp. The pile of food and blankets was still there. Willie was there, too. He was lying half in the pool of water. As Tom crunched over the sand and knelt beside him, Willie opened his eyes.

"Hi, Tom," he said faintly. "I'm glad you came alone."

"Hi, Willie," Tom said as he looked at the thin chest with the small neat hole low on the left side. "So he did shoot you, didn't he." He opened the first aid kit. "I'll get you back to the ship and you'll be O.K." He started putting a dressing on the wound.

Willie looked at him with his bright blue eyes. "Never mind, Tom. I just got to stay here in spite of the Captain." His voice was so low Tom had to lean closer to hear him. Willie coughed slightly and winced with the pain.

Tom finished the bandage. He knew there was nothing he could do; Willie was hurt inside and only a doctor could help him. But there were no doctors here. He wanted to do something for him to make him more comfortable. He started to put an arm under him to move him out of the pool. "I'll get you out of this water," he said.

"No. Tom," Willie said. "Leave me here. I crawled all night to get here. I want to die in this pool."

"In the water?" Tom said in surprise.

"Yes, in the water. Don't you understand? I thought you would." He stared up at the white tracing of the clouds in the sky.

Tom waited, silently. He knelt there, the sun burning hot on his back.

"I wanted to stay," Willie said. "I had to stay. Didn't you feel anything about this planet, Tom?"

Tom thought a moment. "I did feel a little," he admitted. "On the way over here. Like it would be a nice place to live."

"That's it," Willie smiled. "Don't you see. Here was this planet, ripe for life, but without life. Then the seeds of the ferns got blown off Earth and drifted here. But it needed more, it needed animal life to complete the cycle.

"Then we got 'blown off Earth.' Bart for the glory, Pudge for the ride, you for the excitement, and me--me--because I had to, I guess. Because I couldn't stand it back there. Seeds, all four of us, and not knowing it. That's why we had to land. That's why one of us had to stay and I guess it was just me. Now the rest of you can go back to Earth."

Willie coughed, much longer this time. Then he lay back exhausted. "Tom," he whispered, "look at the edge of my camp. In the ferns."

Tom walked over to the edge of the camp. He looked at the yellow-green ferns, wondering what Willie meant. Then he saw it. The faint steaming from the packed dead ferns under the growing ones, the spreading dark spot, the already darker green of the plants growing around the spot.

Willie had brought the seeds of decay with him, as well as the seeds of life. The dead plants were decaying for the first time on this planet. This spot would spread until the whole planet was covered with dark green; and life would be as it was on Earth.

Tom went back to Willie and stood looking down at him. Then he knelt and gently closed Willie's eyelids. He thought of moving him, digging him a shallow grave. But kneeling there in the silent cove, he had the hunch that maybe there was more to this. Willie had wanted to stay in the little pool. The stream came down off the ridge through the pool to the sea. Maybe if Willie stayed there, the bacteria of his body would live on, and be washed into the sea. The water was warm and there were no enemies to destroy them and there were plants to feed them. Perhaps, Willie was right. Maybe he _was_ the seed of life coming to this planet; and in a million years men might walk these shores.

Tom straightened up. He took a deep breath and looked around the little cove, and then back to Willie.

"It's your planet, now, Willie. Willie's Planet from now on. What Bart put in the log and what spacemen will call it as they go by, will be two different things. Or did you know that in your heart, too." He was silent a moment. "So long, Willie. Go with God."

He turned and crunched along the sand towards the ship.