A Thousand Deaths Read Online Free Page A

be sent as a colonist to the agricultural world of Epsilon Eridani, Planet D. You will become part of an integrated farming community. Your future of successes or failures will thus be of no consequence to the community at large here on Earth, yet you will be placed in an environment which will demand much of you and reward you with peace and satisfaction**
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    "That's not so bad," said Courane.
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    **COURANE, Sandor: 
No, it's not. Many successful but harried citizens would be willing to trade their situations with you. You will lack for little on this distant world, except of course for personal contact with old friends and family, and certain material possessions. But in the balance you must weigh your new self-esteem, gained through hard work and the knowledge that you are free and owe your liberty and good life to no one, that your happiness is of your own making**
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    "Well, then, I'm very grateful."
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    **COURANE, Sandor: 
And well you should be. You would do well to recall that TECT in the name of the Representative had no part in selecting you for this treatment, or in prejudging your lapses, or in deciding your fate. These things were made necessary by the current standards of the community, and TECT in the name of the Representative must be absolved of all direct responsibility.  
    ** COURANE, Sandor: 
Compliance with the above is to be indicated.  
    **COURANE, Sandor:  
Affirm?**
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    "Yes," said Courane, permitting the immense machine to wash its electronic hands of the affair, to salve its magnetic conscience. Courane remembered his father, still on the phone upstairs, waiting in Europe for the news. Courane hurried back to his apartment. "Hello, Dad?"
    "I haven't gone anywhere."
    "Well, I will be. They're sending me to another planet. Epsilon something. A farming world. I'm going to work on a commune or something."  
    "Oh."
    "That doesn't sound bad."
    "Except that your mother and I will probably never see you again."
    Courane hesitated. He hadn't even considered that. He felt a stab of guilt. "I'll be home in a couple of hours. Is my room still empty?"
    "Who do you think is staying there? Your mother will put on clean sheets. You can pick up the rest of your books and clothes."
    "They won't let me take but five pounds, Dad. I have everything I need except a good picture of you and Mom. Do me a favor, though. Get Mom ready. Break the news to her so that she won't be hysterical when I get home."
    Courane heard his father sigh. "Sandy, no matter what I do, she'll be hysterical when you get here. For that matter, maybe I will be, too."
    Courane felt a hot tear slip down his cheek. "Dad," he said in a hoarse voice, "it's hard enough to keep myself under control. Please, I need you to be strong. You were always strong when I was little. You've always been strong for me."
    "Sandy, it was never easy, and I am getting old and tired. But I will do it one more time."
    "Thanks, Dad. I love you."
    "I love you too, Sandy. Be careful coming home. I'll see you soon."
    Courane hung up the phone. He sat on his bed and stared at the wall, where there was a framed print of Tiepolo's Madonna of the Goldfinch, which Courane felt was the most beautiful woman ever painted. He stared at the print, and every thought he entertained made him a little sadder. He wouldn't be allowed to take the picture with him. He would be cut off forever from both it and the world that had created it. His idle dreams of performing a startling act of genius, a work of art or a scientific breakthrough or a marvelous athletic achievement, were dead now and he had no other course but to acknowledge that dismal fact. There were so many things that Courane had wanted with the vague grasping desire of youth, and he had denied them all to himself by his failure. He had achieved something closely related to death, despite TECT's curious reluctance to be held accountable for it. Certainly Courane's failures to come would be far