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force. Julian’s documents are stamped ‘VOID’ in large purple letters, and have value only as curios.” He looked at the clock. “Excuse me; I must now explain these facts to the folk of Stroma.”
    Leaving Dame Clytie standing speechless, Egon Tamm crossed the hall and stepped up to the podium. The hall became silent.
    Egon Tamm said: “l will speak with as much brevity as possible -although this may well be the most important news you have ever heard. The gist is this: a new Charter now governs the Cadwal Conservancy. It is based upon the old Charter, but is much less ambiguous and more specific than the original. Copies of the new document have been placed on the table in the anteroom.
    “How and why did this come about? The story is complicated and I will not tell it now.
    “The new Charter specifies a number of changes. Araminta station is enlarged to approximately five hundred square miles. The permanent population will be increased somewhat, but still limited to members of the New Conservancy, which replaces the old Naturalist Society. The administrative apparatus will be enlarged and reorganized, but the six bureaus will serve essentially their old functions.
    “Present inhabitants of Stroma and Araminta station are eligible to join the New Conservancy provided that they undertake certain obligations. First, they must abide by the provisions of the new Charter. Second, they must move to Araminta Station. There will be initial confusion, but in the end every family will be assured a private dwelling upon an allotment of land. The Charter stipulates that there shall be no permanent human habitation on Cadwal other than Araminta station. Despite the initial dislocation, Stoma will be abandoned.”
    For a period Egon Tamm answered questions. From the pink-faced young man who had questioned him previously came a passionate outcry: “What of the Yips? I suppose that you will drive them into the sea, the better to end their miserable lives?”
    “The Yips lead miserable lives, agreed,” said Egon Tamm. “We shall help them but we will not sacrifice the Conservancy in the process.”
    “You would ship them away from their homes, higgledy-piggledy, like cattle?”
    “We will transfer them to new homes, with as much dignity as possible.”
    “Another question: Suppose some of us choose to bide at Stroma: will you then force us to leave?”
    “Probably not,” said Egon Tamm. “It is a question we have not yet faced up to. It would be better if Stroma were evacuated within a year, but I suspect that it may die by attrition, in a set of ever more dreary phases.”
     
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    Chapter 1, Part IV
     
    In the parlor of the old house, Wayness and her six friends listened to Egon Tamm’s remarks. When he had finished, the screen went blank and there was a numb silence in the room.
    Ivar said at last: “I am confused and I don’t know where to start thinking.” He rose to his feet. “I had better be on my way.”
    Ivar departed. Others of the group followed close on his heels. Wayness was left alone. She stood a moment looking down into the fire, then left the house and ran to the Council Hall. She found Glawen listening to the expostulations of the aged Dame Cabb, who did not wish to leave the familiar old home with the dark blue front where she had lived all the years of her life. In his responses Glawen tried to combine sympathy and reassurance with an explanation why processes so definite were necessary. It was clear, however, that Dame Cabb cared little for the dynamics of history and wanted only to end her life in peace and tranquility. “But now it seems that willy-nilly I shall be bundled off, like a sack of old rags, and all my best things cast into the fjord!”
    “Surely it won’t be like that!” Glawen protested. “You will probably prefer your new home to the old.”
    Dame Cabb sighed. “So it may be. For a fact Stroma has grown dreary of late, and the wind seems to blow so very cold.” She