As my eyes further resolved the details ofthe shapes, it came to me all-at-once that it was not justhis head, or even a hat. It was some sort of India... head-dress, studded with stiff feathers and bits of fur,surrounding but not covering his shadowed face.The man entered further into the cave, and stood a few feetfrom the end of my sleeping bag. With the moonlight nowshining onto him, I could now be certain that he was indeedan Indian, with the round-faced appearance of one of thePueblo dwellers. I watched other boys die, stung to death. I was stung a few times myself. We survivors were removed from the insect room and drafted into the Special Security Service.The stench of fear in the present was reinforced by whimpering and sobbing. The sources were adult women. I was used to nudity—these women weren't. A pile of clothing next to the door, their wrists secured with plastic self-locking ties behind their backs, a few red marks on adult faces that might color up into bruises—the adults. More

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