They ended up spending a week in Zion, during which time Shadow, Dante and Bit took Allan over the whole city. Bit especially seemed to delight in showing him every last corner of her small world - playgrounds in large rooms with padded floors, the junior school peopled by children with plugs who were solemn-faced and those without who were laughing, the library where all the information was on the computers and the books were in glass cases and couldn't be touched.
In the times when the child was at school or with her friends, Shadow and Dante took him to the adult areas - bars mostly, with an occasional 'jack-in'. A jack-in was an establishment where those equipped to do so could plug into recreational programs.
"Porn mostly," said Dante distastefully as they hurried past a particularly seedy-looking establishment. "Kind of like the internet. But there are some good places - you can go shopping or to the beach. Just stuff like that. Simple stuff that a lot of people miss."
"But mostly porn," said Shadow, looking amused. On some people, he noted, that expression softened their face. But her softening had passed after the painkillers had worn off, and the slight smile looked like a knife slowly being drawn from its sheath.
"I get it," laughed Allan. "You get to program the woman of your dreams?"
"Or man," she replied. "You'd be surprised how many women go to these things."
Thet also stopped by the Acadamy, where young people were trained for life in Zion, be it aboard a ship or simply about the city. Shadow and Dante, both barely months out of the Acadamy, knew plenty of people, and for a few moments Allan felt almost lost in the whirl of greetings and introductions.
They left there with an invitation to go to Orlando's that evening. A reputable jack-in that was strictly pornography-free, it was a popular place with those who actually wanted to socialise free of the discomforts of the real.
They left Bit with her parents, who were quite happy to have their daughter back for the evening so she could spend some quality time with her father before he left again.
Orlando's was a quiet, well-lit place that was just above the bad part of town. Chairs were arranged around linked operator stations, each patrolled by a freeborn. When the three of them arrived, almost every chair was full, except for a half-empty station over by the far wall.
"Blink!" Shadow greeted their operator effusively. "How are you?"
"Ready and raring to go, darling," he replied with a cheeky smile, and Allan wondered distantly whether the broad southern drawl was an affectation. He hadn't heard any other freeborns talk with such a marked accent.
He lay down in the chair. The contours were different to the chair aboard ship - they didn't hug his body quite so effectively, and he could feel the frame beneath the sparse padding. These chairs were more heavily used, apparently.
There was a tickle at the back of his neck, a feeling like falling, and then he was standing in what looked like an upper-class airport lounge. A moment passed, and Shadow appeared beside him, then Dante. They took a moment to orient themselves.
"Man, I love what Orlando's done with the place," said Dante, glancing around.
"Yeah," agreed Shadow. "Walls."
Allan realised with a start that she was back in that familiar black overcoat with the heavy boots and blank expression. He, on the other hand, wore jeans, boots and a black t-shirt. Very mainstream next to Dante's leather pants and open-to-the-waist red silk shirt, revealing a toned upper body. Shadow, noticing her friend's getup, said, "It's such a shame. Dressing like that, you'd have the girls swooning all over you."
Dante shrugged and indicated the metal detectors. There were three side by side, and they led onto a blank wall.
Shadow perused the sign above them with pursed lips. "Let's see... we've got bonfire on the beach, a club or a rock concert. What's your preference?"
"Beach," said Dante instantly.
She looked at him with slightly narrowed eyes. "Allan? You know we're going to have to come up with a better name for you than that."
They eventually decided to start out on the beach, before proceeding to one or another of the alternative venues.
As they stepped through the appropriate gate, there was a sensation not unlike walking into cobwebs, a feeling of cold fingers creeping down his spine, and suddenly he had stepped onto a twilit beach. The sun appeared to just be setting over the ocean, but the air still carried traces of the day's fierce heat. He felt sweat spring up across his skin and wished he'd worn something other than jeans.
No sooner had thought crossed his mind than he realised he was wearing something else. The cobwebby sensation had been his clothes transforming into board shorts and a singlet, gear comfortable for the beach. He turned to see Dante appear from thin air behind him, followed by Shadow. Dante's clothes closely mirrored his own, but Shadow stared mournfully down at herself.
"I hate Orlando," she remarked, wrapping her arms about her waist. The shorts covered her to her knees, but the string bikini top left little to the imagination. Not that there was much to imagine. A hard life had made Shadow lean and muscled. She was small of breast and narrow of hip, but looked so fearfully competent and dangerous that you hesitated to point that out.
Dante elbowed her playfully and they set off across the sand.
Allan found himself fascinated by everything. The feeling of fine, grainy sand between his toes, the soft breeze that ruffled his hair. The heat, dear Lord, the heat alone was enough to make his head spin. He'd been cold for months, and now this warm, moist air was clinging to his skin as he crossed the beach towards the bonfire. The colours of the sunset astonished him - he'd almost forgotten colour in the grey world of the ship. Golden closer to the horizon, segueing into pinks and oranges and then into a sweet dusky blue higher up. The first stars were appearing, twinkling merrily.
He heard a familiar noise and looked up to see gulls wheeling overhead, their odd, swooping flight paths never quite bringing them to collision. There were people up on the rocks at the end of the beach, he realised, scrambling about exploring or sitting there talking. People in the water, swimming, surfing. There was a guy in a flimsy looking boat. One guy looked like he was walking on the water. How did he do that?
"Allan?" Shadow was standing in front of him. "You coming?"
He looked and saw Dante standing a fair way away, looking impatient. He must have stopped and been standing there for a time. "Sorry. Got a bit distracted." He broke into a jog, Shadow keeping up with him with an easy lope, despite her shorter legs. He hadn't yet mastered the trick of effortless simulated speed.
The bonfire was surrounded by people. Some were cooking on barbeques nearby, other sat around talking. There was a game of soccer going on, and somebody on the other side of the blaze had a guitar out, and had started a singalong. The idea made him shake his head. These were some of the most deadly warriors in the world, and they were singing what sounded like 'Sweet Home Alabama.' It was as if the world had tilted sideways.
Shadow and Dante had taken seats on the rough-hewn logs to his left, and Dante appeared to be toasting a marshmallow.
Shadow looked up at him curiously. "What's up?"
Allan shook his head. "It's... weird, is all. Everybody's acting - you know."
"Normal?" He turned to look at her. Her face was open and relaxed for once, sympathetic. "We're off-duty, Allan. We don't need to worry about stuff. Here -" she slapped a hand on the log "- we're not warriors. We're just people, having fun, relaxing, whatever. Sit down."
He sat down beside her. The log was too small to fit all three of them comfortably, but he was pressed against her from the shoulder down to the knee, and he found he didn't mind at all.
In the times when the child was at school or with her friends, Shadow and Dante took him to the adult areas - bars mostly, with an occasional 'jack-in'. A jack-in was an establishment where those equipped to do so could plug into recreational programs.
"Porn mostly," said Dante distastefully as they hurried past a particularly seedy-looking establishment. "Kind of like the internet. But there are some good places - you can go shopping or to the beach. Just stuff like that. Simple stuff that a lot of people miss."
"But mostly porn," said Shadow, looking amused. On some people, he noted, that expression softened their face. But her softening had passed after the painkillers had worn off, and the slight smile looked like a knife slowly being drawn from its sheath.
"I get it," laughed Allan. "You get to program the woman of your dreams?"
"Or man," she replied. "You'd be surprised how many women go to these things."
Thet also stopped by the Acadamy, where young people were trained for life in Zion, be it aboard a ship or simply about the city. Shadow and Dante, both barely months out of the Acadamy, knew plenty of people, and for a few moments Allan felt almost lost in the whirl of greetings and introductions.
They left there with an invitation to go to Orlando's that evening. A reputable jack-in that was strictly pornography-free, it was a popular place with those who actually wanted to socialise free of the discomforts of the real.
They left Bit with her parents, who were quite happy to have their daughter back for the evening so she could spend some quality time with her father before he left again.
Orlando's was a quiet, well-lit place that was just above the bad part of town. Chairs were arranged around linked operator stations, each patrolled by a freeborn. When the three of them arrived, almost every chair was full, except for a half-empty station over by the far wall.
"Blink!" Shadow greeted their operator effusively. "How are you?"
"Ready and raring to go, darling," he replied with a cheeky smile, and Allan wondered distantly whether the broad southern drawl was an affectation. He hadn't heard any other freeborns talk with such a marked accent.
He lay down in the chair. The contours were different to the chair aboard ship - they didn't hug his body quite so effectively, and he could feel the frame beneath the sparse padding. These chairs were more heavily used, apparently.
There was a tickle at the back of his neck, a feeling like falling, and then he was standing in what looked like an upper-class airport lounge. A moment passed, and Shadow appeared beside him, then Dante. They took a moment to orient themselves.
"Man, I love what Orlando's done with the place," said Dante, glancing around.
"Yeah," agreed Shadow. "Walls."
Allan realised with a start that she was back in that familiar black overcoat with the heavy boots and blank expression. He, on the other hand, wore jeans, boots and a black t-shirt. Very mainstream next to Dante's leather pants and open-to-the-waist red silk shirt, revealing a toned upper body. Shadow, noticing her friend's getup, said, "It's such a shame. Dressing like that, you'd have the girls swooning all over you."
Dante shrugged and indicated the metal detectors. There were three side by side, and they led onto a blank wall.
Shadow perused the sign above them with pursed lips. "Let's see... we've got bonfire on the beach, a club or a rock concert. What's your preference?"
"Beach," said Dante instantly.
She looked at him with slightly narrowed eyes. "Allan? You know we're going to have to come up with a better name for you than that."
They eventually decided to start out on the beach, before proceeding to one or another of the alternative venues.
As they stepped through the appropriate gate, there was a sensation not unlike walking into cobwebs, a feeling of cold fingers creeping down his spine, and suddenly he had stepped onto a twilit beach. The sun appeared to just be setting over the ocean, but the air still carried traces of the day's fierce heat. He felt sweat spring up across his skin and wished he'd worn something other than jeans.
No sooner had thought crossed his mind than he realised he was wearing something else. The cobwebby sensation had been his clothes transforming into board shorts and a singlet, gear comfortable for the beach. He turned to see Dante appear from thin air behind him, followed by Shadow. Dante's clothes closely mirrored his own, but Shadow stared mournfully down at herself.
"I hate Orlando," she remarked, wrapping her arms about her waist. The shorts covered her to her knees, but the string bikini top left little to the imagination. Not that there was much to imagine. A hard life had made Shadow lean and muscled. She was small of breast and narrow of hip, but looked so fearfully competent and dangerous that you hesitated to point that out.
Dante elbowed her playfully and they set off across the sand.
Allan found himself fascinated by everything. The feeling of fine, grainy sand between his toes, the soft breeze that ruffled his hair. The heat, dear Lord, the heat alone was enough to make his head spin. He'd been cold for months, and now this warm, moist air was clinging to his skin as he crossed the beach towards the bonfire. The colours of the sunset astonished him - he'd almost forgotten colour in the grey world of the ship. Golden closer to the horizon, segueing into pinks and oranges and then into a sweet dusky blue higher up. The first stars were appearing, twinkling merrily.
He heard a familiar noise and looked up to see gulls wheeling overhead, their odd, swooping flight paths never quite bringing them to collision. There were people up on the rocks at the end of the beach, he realised, scrambling about exploring or sitting there talking. People in the water, swimming, surfing. There was a guy in a flimsy looking boat. One guy looked like he was walking on the water. How did he do that?
"Allan?" Shadow was standing in front of him. "You coming?"
He looked and saw Dante standing a fair way away, looking impatient. He must have stopped and been standing there for a time. "Sorry. Got a bit distracted." He broke into a jog, Shadow keeping up with him with an easy lope, despite her shorter legs. He hadn't yet mastered the trick of effortless simulated speed.
The bonfire was surrounded by people. Some were cooking on barbeques nearby, other sat around talking. There was a game of soccer going on, and somebody on the other side of the blaze had a guitar out, and had started a singalong. The idea made him shake his head. These were some of the most deadly warriors in the world, and they were singing what sounded like 'Sweet Home Alabama.' It was as if the world had tilted sideways.
Shadow and Dante had taken seats on the rough-hewn logs to his left, and Dante appeared to be toasting a marshmallow.
Shadow looked up at him curiously. "What's up?"
Allan shook his head. "It's... weird, is all. Everybody's acting - you know."
"Normal?" He turned to look at her. Her face was open and relaxed for once, sympathetic. "We're off-duty, Allan. We don't need to worry about stuff. Here -" she slapped a hand on the log "- we're not warriors. We're just people, having fun, relaxing, whatever. Sit down."
He sat down beside her. The log was too small to fit all three of them comfortably, but he was pressed against her from the shoulder down to the knee, and he found he didn't mind at all.
