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carried harmlessly。 Male offspring； however； are 'bleeders。' This disease is generated only if an afflicted male marries a woman carrying the recessive gene。 If the offspring of such union is male； the result will be a haemophiliac son。 If the offspring is female； the result will be a daughter who is a carrier。 It should be emphasized that the haemophilia gene may be carried recessively in the male as a part of his genetic make…up。 But if he marries a woman with the same outlaw gene； the result will be haemophilia if the offspring is male。
In the case of royal families； where intermarriage was mon； the chances of the gene reproducing once it entered the family tree were high … thus the name King's Evil。 Haemophilia also showed up in significant quantities in Appalachia during the earlier part of this century； and is monly noticed in those cultures where incest and the marriage of first cousins is mon。
With the TK phenomenon； the male appears to be the carrier。。 the TK gene may be recessive in the female； but dominates only in the female。 It appears that Ralph White carried the gene。 Margaret Brigham； by purest name； also carried the outlaw gene sign； but we may be fairly confident that it was recessive； as no information has ever been found to indicate that she had telekinetic powers resembling her daughter's。 Investigations are now being conducted into the life of Margaret Brigham's grandmother； Sadie Cochran … for； if the dominant/recessive pattern obtains with TK as it does with haemophilia； Mrs Cochran must have been TK…dominant。
If the issue of the White marriage had been male； the result would have been another carrier。 Chances that the mutation would have died with him would have been excellent； as neither side of the Ralph White … Margaret Brigham alliance had cousins of a parable age for the theoretical male offspring to marry。 And the chances of meeting and marrying another woman with TK gene at random would be small。 None of the teams working on the problem have yet isolated the gene。
Surely no one can doubt； in light of the Maine holocaust； that isolating this gene must bee one of medicine's number…one priorities。 The haemophiliac； or H…gene； produces male issue with a lack of blood platelets。 The telekineticn or TK…gene； produces female Typhoid Marys capable of destroying almost at will 。。。
Wednesday afternoon。
Susan and fourteen other students … The Spring Ball Decoration mittee； no less … were working on the huge mural that would hang behind the twin bandstand on Friday night。 The theme was Springtime in Venice （who picked thew hokey themes； Sue wondered。 She had been a student at Ewen for four years； had after two Balls； and she still didn't know。 Why did the goddam thing need a theme； anyway？ Why not just have a sock hop and be done with W）： George Chizmar； Ewen's most artistic student； had done a small chalk sketch of gondolas on a canal at sunset and a gondolier in a huge straw fedora leaning against the tiller as a gorgeous panoply of pinks and reds and oranges stained both sky and water。 It was beautiful； no doubt about that。 He had redrawn it in silhouette on a huge fourteen…by…twenty…foot canvas flat； numbering the various sections to go with the various chalk hues。 Now the mittee was patiently colouring it in； like children crawling over a huge page in a giant's colouring book。 Still； Sue thought； looking at her hands and forearms； both heavily dusted with pink chalk； it was going to be the prettiest prom ever。
Next to her； Helen Shyres sat up on her haunches； stretched； and groaned as her back popped。 She brushed a hank of hair from her forehead with the back of her hand； leaving a rose…coloured smear。
'How in hell did you talk me into this？'
'You want it to be nice； don't you？' Sue mimicked Miss Geer； the spinster chairman （apt enough term for Miss Mustache） of the Decoration mittee。
'Yeah； but why not the refreshment mittee or the Entertainment mittee？ Less back； more mind。 The mind； that's my area。 Besides； you're not even …' She bit down on the words。
'Going？' Susan shrugged and picked up her chalk again。 She had a monstrous writer's cramp。 'No； but I still want it to be nice。' She added shyly： 'Tommy's going。'
They worked in silence for a bit； and then Helen stopped again。 No one was near them； the closest was Holly Marshall； on the other end of the mural； colouring the gondola's keel。
'Can I ask you about it； Sue？' Helen asked finally。 'God； everybody's talking。'
'Sure。' Sue stopped colouring and flexed her hand。
'Maybe I ought to tell someone； just so the story stays straight。 I asked Tommy to take Carrie。 I'm hoping it'll bring her out of herself a little 。。。 knock down some of the barriers。 I think I owe her that much。'
'Whom does that put the rest of us？' Helen asked without rancour。
Sue shrugged。 'You have to make up your own mind about what we did； Helen。 I'm in no position to throw stones。 But I don't want people to think I'm uh 。。。'
'Playing match'
'Something like that。'
'And Tommy went along with it？' This was the part that most fascinated her。
'Yea；' Sue said； and did not elaborate。 After a pause： 'I suppose the other kids think I'm stuck up。'
Helen thought it over。 'Well 。。。 they're all talking about it。 But most of them still think you're okay。 Like you said； you make your own decisions。 There is； however； a small dissenting faction。' She snickered dolefully。
'The Chris Hargensen people？'
'And the Billy Nolan people。 God； he's scuzzy。'
'She doesn't like me much？' Sue said； making it a question。
'Susie； she hates your guts。'
Susan nodded； surprised to find the thought both distressed and excited her。
'I heard her father was going to sue the school department and then he changed his mind；' she said。
Helen shrugged。 'She hasn't made any friends out of this；' she said。 'I don't know what got into us； any of us。 It makes me feel like I don't even know my own mind。'
They worked on in silence。 Across the room； Don Barrett was putting up an extension ladder preparatory to gilding the overhead steel beams with crepe paper。
'Look；' Helen said。 'There goes Chris now。'
Susan looked up just in time to see her walking into the cubby…hole office to the left of the gym entrance。 She was wearing wine…coloured velvet hot pants and a silky white blouse … no bra； from the way things were jiggling up front … a dirty old man's dream； Sue thought sourly； and then wondered what Chris could want in where the Prom mittee had set up shop。 Of course Tina Blake was on the mittee and the two of them were thicker than thieves。
Stop it； she scolded herself。 Do you want her in sackcloth and ashes？
Yes； she admitted。 A part of her wanted just that。
'Helen？'
'Hmmmm？'
'Are they going to do something？'
Helen's face took on an unwilling masklike quality。 'I don't know。' The voice was light； over innocent。
'Oh；' Sue said nonmittally。
（you know you know something： accept something goddammit if its only yourself tell me）
They continued to colour； and neither spoke。 She knew it wasn't as all right as Helen had said。 It couldn't be； she would never be quite the same golden girl again in the eyes of her mates。 She had done an ungovernable； dangerous thing … she had broken cover and shown he