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At times like that； he found bitter consolation in psychological studies where a subject was sealed off from all sensory input； made blind； deaf； silent； and immobile； and as a result began to experience the most horrendous hallucinations。 If conscious normal men and women could be placed so much at the mercy of their own inner chaos； surely one abject leper in a a could have a dream that was worse than chaos …a dream specifically self…designed to drive him mad。 At least what had happened to him did not altogether surpass prehension。
Thus in one way or another he survived the days for nearly three weeks after the fire。 At times he was almost aware that the unresolved stress within him was building toward a crisis； but repeatedly he repressed the knowledge； drove the idea down with anger。 He did not believe he could endure another ordeal； he had handled the first one so badly。
But even the concentrated vitriol of his anger was not potent enough to protect him indefinitely。 One Thursday morning； when he faced himself in the mirror to shave； the crisis abruptly surged up in him； and his hand began to shake so severely that he had to drop the razor in the sink in order to avoid cutting his jugular。
Events in the Land were not plete。 By regaining the Staff of Law； the Lords had done exactly what Lord Foul wanted them to do。 That was just the first step in Foul's plotting…machinations which had begun when he had summoned Covenant's white gold ring to the Land。 He would not be done until he had gained the power of life and death over that entire Earth。 And to do that； Foul needed the wild magic of the white gold。
Covenant stared desperately at himself in the mirror； trying to retain a grip on his own actuality。 But he saw nothing in his own eyes capable of defending him。
He had been deluded once。
It could happen again。
Again？ he cried； in a voice so forlorn that it sounded like the wail of an abandoned child。 Again？ He could not master what had happened to him in his first delusion； how could he so much as live through a second？
He was on the verge of calling the doctors at the leprosarium…calling them to beg！…when he recovered some of his leper's intransigence。 He would not have survived this long if he had not possessed some kind of fundamental capacity to refuse defeat if not despair； and that capacity stopped him now。 What could I tell them that they would believe？ he rasped。 I don't believe it myself。
The people of the Land had called him the Unbeliever。 Now he found that he would have to earn that title whether the Land actually existed or not。
And for the next two days he strove to earn it with a grimness which was as close as he could e to courage。 He only made one promise： since his hands shook so badly； he shaved with an electric razor； pushing it roughly at his face as if he were trying to remold his features。 Beyond that； he acknowledged nothing。 At night； his heart quivered so tangibly in his chest that he could not sleep； but he clenched his teeth and did without sleep。 Between himself and delusion he placed a wall of DDS and VSEs； and whenever delusion threatened to breach his defense； he drove it back with curses。
But Saturday morning came； and still he could not silence the dread which made his hands shake。
Then at last he decided to risk going among his fellow human beings once more。 He needed their actuality； their affirmation of the reality he understood； even their revulsion toward his illness。 He knew of no other antidote to delusion； he could no longer face his dilemma alone。
TWO： Halfhand
BUT that decision itself was full of fear； and he did not act on it until evening。 He spent most of the day cleaning his house as if he did not expect to return to it。 Then； late in the afternoon； he shaved with the electric razor and showered meticulously。 For the sake of prudence； he put on a tough pair of jeans； and laced his feet into heavy boots； but over his T…shirt he wore a dress shirt； tie； and sports coat； so that the informality of his jeans and boots would not be held against him。 His wallet…generally so useless to him that he did not carry it…he placed in his coat pocket。 And into a pocket of his trousers he stuffed a small； sharp penknife…a knife which he habitually took with him in case he lost control of his defensive concentration； and needed something dangerous to help him refocus himself。 Finally； as the sun was setting； he walked down his long driveway to the road； where he extended his thumb to hitch a ride away from town。
The next place down the road was ten miles from Haven Farm； and it was bigger than the town where he had had his accident。 He headed for it because he was less likely to be recognized there。 But his first problem was to find a safe ride。 If any of the local motorists spotted him； he was in trouble from the beginning。
In the first few minutes； three cars went by without stopping。 The occupants stared at him in passing as if he were some kind of minor freak； but none of the drivers slowed down。 Then； as the last sunlight faded into dusk； a large truck came toward him。 He waved his thumb； and the truck rode to a halt just past him on the loud hissing of air brakes。 He climbed up to the door； and was gestured into the cab by the driver。
The man was chewing over a black stubby cigar； and the air in the cab was thick with smoke。 But through the dull haze； Covenant could see that he was big and burly； with a distended paunch； and one heavy arm that moved over the steering wheel like a piston； turning the truck easily。 He had only that one arm； his right sleeve was empty； and pinned to his shoulder。 Covenant understood dismemberment； and he felt a pang of sympathy for the driver。
〃Where to； buddy？〃 the big man asked fortably。
Covenant told him。
〃No problem；〃 he responded to a tentative inflection in Covenant's tone。 〃I'm going right through there。〃 As the automatic transmission whined upward through。 its gears； he spat his cigar out the window； then let go of the wheel to unwrap and light a new smoke。 While his hand was busy； he braced the wheel with his belly。 The green light of the instrument panel did not reach his face； but the glow of the cigar coal illuminated massive features whenever he inhaled。 In the surging red； his face looked like a pile of boulders。
With his new smoke going； he rested his arm on the wheel like a sphinx； and abruptly began talking。 He had something on his mind。
〃You live around here？〃
Covenant said nonmittally； 〃Yes〃
〃How long？ You know the people？〃
〃After a fashion。〃
〃You know this leper…this Thomas something…or…other Thomas Covenant？〃
Covenant flinched in the gloom of the cab。 To disguise his distress； he shifted his position on the seat。 Awkwardly； he asked； 〃What's your interest？〃
〃Me？ I got no interest。 Just passing through…hauling my ass where they give me a load to go。 I never even been around here before。 But where I et at back in town I heard talk about this guy。 So I ask the broad at the counter； and she damn near yaks my ear off。 One question…and I get instant mouth with everything I eat。 You know what a leper is？〃
Covenant squirmed。 〃After a fashion。〃
〃Well； it's a mess； let me tell you。 My old lady reads about this stuff all the time in the Bible。 Dirty beggars。 Unclean。 I didn't know there was creeps like that in America。 But that's what we're ing to。 You know what I think？〃
〃What do you think？〃 Covenant asked dimly。
〃I think them lepers ought to leave decent folks alone。 Like that broad at the counter。 She's okay； even with that motor mouth； but there she is； juiced to the gills on account of some sick bastard。 That Covenant guy ought to stop thinking of his self。 Other folks don't need that aggravation。 He ought to go away with every other leper and stick to his self； leave decent folks alone。 It's just selfishness； expecting ordinary guys like you and me to put up with that。 You know what I mean？〃
The cigar smoke in the cab was as thick as incense； and it made Covenant feel light…headed。 He kept shifting his weight； as if the falseness of his position gave him an unfortable seat。 But the talk and his vague vertigo made him feel vengeful。 For a moment； he forgot his sympathy。 He turned his wedding ring forcefully around his finger。 As they neared the city limits； he said； 〃I'm going to a nightclub just up the road here。 How about joining me for a drink？〃
Without hesitation； the trucker said； 〃Buddy； you're on。 I never pass up a free drink。〃
But they were still several stoplights from the club。 To fill the silence； and satisfy his curiosity； Covenant asked the driver what had happened to his arm。
〃Lost it in the war。〃 He brought the truck to a stop at a light while adjusting his cigar in his lips and steering with his paunch。 〃We was on patrol； and walked right into one of them antipersonnel mines。 Blew the squad to hell。 I had to crawl back to camp。 Took me two days…I sort of got unhinged； you know what I mean？ Didn't always know what I was doing。 Time I got to the doc； it was too late to save the arm。
〃What the hell； I don't need it。 Least my old lady says I don't…and she ought to know by now。〃 He chuckled。 〃Don't need no two arms for th