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　　〃I　guess　people　need　time　to　go　through　certain　stages。〃
　　〃It's　obvious；〃　he　said。
　　I　told　him　I'd　spent　two　and　a　half　minutes　exposed　to　the　toxic　cloud。　Then　I　summarized　the　interview　I'd　had　with　the　SIMUVAC　man。
　　'That　little　breath　of　Nyodene　has　planted　a　death　in　my　body。　It　is　now　official；　according　to　the　puter。　I've　got　death　inside　me。　It's　just　a　question　of　whether　or　not　I　can　outlive　it。　It　has　a　life　span　of　its　own。　Thirty　years。　Even　if　it　doesn't　kill　me　in　a　direct　way；　it　will　probably　outlive　me　in　my　own　body。　I　could　die　in　a　plane　crash　and　the　Nyodene　D。　would　be　thriving　as　my　remains　were　laid　to　rest。〃
　　'This　is　the　nature　of　modern　death；〃　Murray　said。　〃It　has　a　life　independent　of　us。　It　is　growing　in　prestige　and　dimension。　It　has　a　sweep　it　never　had　before。　We　study　it　objectively。　We　can　predict　its　appearance；　trace　its　path　in　the　body。　We　can　take　cross…section　pictures　of　it；　tape　its　tremors　and　waves。　We've　never　been　so　close　to　it；　so　familiar　with　its　habits　and　attitudes。　We　know　it　intimately。　But　it　continues　to　grow；　to　acquire　breadth　and　scope；　new　outlets；　new　passages　and　means。　The　more　we　learn；　the　more　it　grows。　Is　this　some　law　of　physics？　Every　advance　in　knowledge　and　technique　is　matched　by　a　new　kind　of　death；　a　new　strain。　Death　adapts；　like　a　viral　agent。　Is　it　a　law　of　nature？　Or　some　private　superstition　of　mine？　I　sense　that　the　dead　are　closer　to　us　than　ever。　I　sense　that　we　inhabit　the　same　air　as　the　dead。　Remember　Lao　Tse。　There　is　no　difference　between　the　quick　and　the　dead。　They　are　one　channel　of　vitality。'　He　said　this　six　hundred　years　before　Christ。　It　is　true　once　again；　perhaps　more　true　than　ever。〃
　　He　placed　his　hands　on　my　shoulders　and　looked　sadly　into　my　face。　He　told　me　in　the　simplest　words　how　sorry　he　was　about　what　had　happened。　He　talked　to　me　about　the　likelihood　of　a　puter　error。　puters　make　mistakes；　he　said。　Carpet　static　can　cause　a　mistake。　Some　lint　or　hair　in　the　circuits。　He　didn't　believe　this　and　neither　did　I。　But　he　spoke　convincingly；　his　eyes　filled　with　spontaneous　emotion；　a　broad　and　profound　feeling。　I　felt　oddly　rewarded。　His　passion　was　equal　to　the　occasion；　an　impressive　pity　and　grief。　The　bad　news　was　almost　worth　it。　〃Ever　since　I　was　in　my　twenties；　I've　had　the　fear；　the　dread。　Now　it's　been　realized。　I　feel　enmeshed；　I　feel　deeply　involved。　It's　no　wonder　they　call　this　thing　the　airborne　toxic　event。　It's　an　event　all　right。　It　marks　the　end　of　uneventful　things。　This　is　just　the　beginning。　Wait　and　see。〃
　　A　talk…show　host　said：　〃You　are　on　the　air。〃　The　fires　burned　in　the　oil　drums。　The　sandwich　vendor　closed　down　his　van。　〃Any　episodes　of　déjà　vu　in　your　group？〃　〃Wife　and　daughter；〃　I　said。　〃There's　a　theory　about　déjà　vu。〃　〃I　don't　want　to　hear　it。〃
　　〃Why　do　we　think　these　things　happened　before？　Simple。　They　did　happen　before；　in　our　minds；　as　visions　of　the　future。　Because　these　are　precognitions；　we　can't　fit　the　material　into　our　system　of　consciousness　as　it　is　now　structured。　This　is　basically　supernatural　stuff。　We're　seeing　into　the　future　but　haven't　learned　how　to　process　the　experience。　So　it　stays　hidden　until　the　precognition　es　true；　until　we　e　face　to　face　with　the　event。　Now　we　are　free　to　remember　it；　to　experience　it　as　familiar　material。〃　〃Why　are　so　many　people　having　these　episodes　now？〃　〃Because　death　is　in　the　air；〃　he　said　gently。　〃It　is　liberating　suppressed　material。　It　is　getting　us　closer　to　things　we　haven't　learned　about　ourselves。　Most　of　us　have　probably　seen　our　own　death　but　haven't　known　how　to　make　the　material　surface。　Maybe　when　we　die；　the　first　thing　we'll　say　is；　'I　know　this　feeling。　I　was　here　before。'〃
　　He　put　his　hands　back　on　my　shoulders；　studied　me　with　renewed　and　touching　sadness。　We　heard　the　prostitutes　call　out　to　someone。
　　〃I'd　like　to　lose　interest　in　myself；〃　I　told　Murray。　〃Is　there　any　chance　of　that　happening？〃
　　〃None。　Better　men　have　tried。〃
　　〃I　guess　you're　right。〃
　　〃It's　obvious。〃
　　〃I　wish　there　was　something　I　could　do。　I　wish　I　could　out…think　the　problem。〃
　　〃Work　harder　on　your　Hitler；〃　he　said。
　　I　looked　at　him。　How　much　did　he　know？
　　The　car　window　opened　a　crack。　One　of　the　women　said　to　Murray；　〃All　right；　I'll　do　it　for　twenty…five。〃
　　〃Have　you　checked　with　your　representative？〃　he　said。
　　She　rolled　down　the　window　to　peer　at　him。　She　had　the　opaque　look　of　a　hair…curlered　woman　on　the　evening　news　whose　house　had　been　buried　in　mud。
　　〃You　know　who　I　mean；〃　Murray　said。　〃The　fellow　who　sees　to　your　emotional　needs　in　return　for　one　hundred　percent　of　your　earnings。　The　fellow　you　depend　on　to　beat　you　up　when　you're　bad。〃
　　〃Bobby？　He's　in　Iron　City；　keeping　out　of　the　cloud。　He　doesn't　like　to　expose　himself　unless　it's　absolutely　necessary。〃
　　The　women　laughed；　six　heads　bobbing。　It　was　insider's　laughter；　a　little　overdone；　meant　to　identify　them　as　people　bound　together　in　ways　not　easily　appreciated　by　the　rest　of　us。
　　A　second　window　opened　half　an　inch；　a　bright　mouth　appeared。　〃The　type　pimp　Bobby　is；　he　likes　to　use　his　mind。〃
　　A　second　round　of　laughter。　We　weren't　sure　whether　it　was　at　Bobby's　expense；　or　ours；　or　theirs。　The　windows　went　up。
　　〃It's　none　of　my　business；〃　I　said；　〃but　what　is　it　she's　willing　to　do　with　you　for　twenty…five　dollars？〃
　　〃The　Heimlich　maneuver。〃
　　I　studied　the　part　of　his　face　that　lay　between　the　touring　cap　and　beard。　He　seemed　deep　in　thought；　gazing　at　the　car。　The　windows　were　fogged；　the　women's　heads　capped　in　cigarette　smoke。
　　〃Of　course　we'd　have　to　find　a　vertical　space；〃　he　said　absently。
　　〃You　don't　really　expect　her　to　lodge　a　chunk　of　food　in　her　windpipe。〃
　　He　looked　at　me；　half　startled。　〃What？　No；　no；　that　won't　be　necessary。　As　long　as　she　makes　gagging　and　choking　sounds。　As　long　as　she　sighs　deeply　when　I　jolt　the　pelvis。　As　long　as　she　collapses　helplessly　backward　into　my　life…saving　embrace。〃
　　He　took　off　his　glove　to　shake　my　hand。　Then　he　went　over　to　the　car　to　work　out　details　with　the　woman　in　question。　I　watched　him　knock　on　the　rear　door。　After　a　moment　it　opened　and　he　squeezed　into　the　back　seat。　I　walked　over　to　one　of　the　oil　drums。　Three　men　and　a　woman　stood　around　the　fire；　passing　rumors　back　and　forth。
　　Three　of　the　live　deer　at　the　Kung　Fu　Palace　were　dead。　The　governor　was　dead；　his　pilot　and　co…pilot　seriously　injured　after　a　crash　landing　in　a　shopping　mall。　Two　of　the　men　at　the　switching　yard　were　dead；　tiny　acid　burns　visible　in　their　Mylex　suits。　Packs　of　German　shepherds；　the　Nyodene…sniffing　dogs；　had　shed　their　parachutes　and　were　being　set　loose　in　the　affected　munities。　There　was　a　rash　of　UFO　sightings　in　the　area。　There　was　widespread　looting　by　men　in　plastic　sheets。　Two'　looters　were　dead。　Six　National　Guardsmen　were　dead；　killed　in　a　firefight　that　broke　out　after　a　racial　incident。　There　were　reports　of　miscarriages；　babies　born　prematurely。　There　were　sightings　of　additional　billowing　clouds。
　　The　people　who　relayed　these　pieces　of　unverified　information　did　so　with　a　certain　respectful　dread；　bouncing　on　their　toes　in　the　cold；　arms　crossed　on　their　chests。　They　were　fearful　that　the　stories　might　be　true　but　at　the　same　time　impressed　by　the　dramatic　character　of　things。　The　toxic　event　had　released　a　spirit　of　imagination。　People　spun　tales；　others　listened　spellbound。　There　was　a　growing　respect　for　the　vivid　rumor；　the　most　chilling　tale。　We　were　no　closer　to　believing　or　disbelieving　a　given　story　than　we　had　been　earlier。　But　there　was　a　greater　appreciation　now。　We　began　to　marvel　at　our　own　ability　to　manufacture　awe。
　　German　shepherds。　That　was　the　reassuring　news　I　took　inside　with　me。　The　sturdy　body；　dense　and　darkish　coat；　fierce　head；　long　lapping　tongue。　I　pictured　them　prowling　the　empty　streets；　heavy…gaited；　alert。　Able　to　hear　sounds　we　couldn't　hear；　able　to　sense　changes　in　the　flow　of　information。　I　saw　them　in　our　house；　snouting　into　closets；　tall　ears　pointed；　a　smell　about　them　of　heat　and　fur　and　stored　power。
　　In　the　barracks　almost　everyone　was　sleeping。　I　made　my　way