Adric leaned on the railing of the observation deck and looked down. He was high up, a hundred metres or so, on the least-exposed side of the Starliner where a row of craggy hills skirted the hulk. Below him the forest canopy spread out from the vertiginous grey mottled cliff-face of the hull and filled the valley, moving in the wind like a vivid green sea.
He was watching the movement, the eddy of buffeted branches, the leaves changing colour in waves as the breeze brushed across them like a hand stroking velvet. He was fascinated.
Once, some time ago, he had come up here and seen the whirling patterns of the forest canopy and had experienced, for the first time that he was truly aware, a sense of terror in the face of the unknowable. He had seen the intricate arabesques of movement down there and had realised suddenly, as if in a revelation– an explosive burst of insight in his brain– that even he, an Elite, and with his special grasp of the fundamentals of the Universe, could not know certain things. It had rushed up at him and enveloped him, made him stagger back and catch his breath like falling into the river.
He had cried tears of fear. Like a child in the darkness. He had cried for his loneliness and his lack of a Mother and a Father, and for the burden of his special genius, and had run back to the Mathematics laboratory and buried himself in a mundane and pacifying diversion he had developed at the time: calculating the value of pi from the nine-billionth decimal place onwards. He had been seven years old.
Nowadays, he came here with an increasingly comforting sense that although he could not know certain things, he could know why they were unknowable. He had grown as a Mathematician, acquiring a framework of mathematical insight which had bound the question, contained it, made it possible to examine and draw meaning from it... in the way that (he realised now with a rueful smile) indicated his passing from childhood into adulthood.
And so the sea-forest had ceased to terrify him, but instead enthralled him with its complexity and chaos - drawing him in but with a tenderness like an embrace and he found himself up here at the railing more often now than in the cool blueish gloom of the study cabins below decks. It was a sanctuary.
"Whoa! Careful, I've got you!"
Adric felt a force on his shoulders that thrust him forwards onto the railing, teetering at the brink, then pulled him sharply back. The voice behind him was mocking and familiar,
"Good job I was here to save you!"
He turned, muttering as he shrugged off the hands that held him,
"Varsh, that wasn't funny," and looked up into his brother's smiling face. "What are you doing here?"
Varsh smiled his white smile. He seemed taller than when Adric had last seen him, and broader, altogether bigger, and was wearing the sleeveless smock and sash of a Riverfruit picker. His shoulders and arms and face were nut brown from working in the sunshine, and the sweat glistened like oil over his bulging muscles.
Varsh's smile wavered,
"Well now, I hadn't realised this level was reserved for Elites only..."
Adric frowned crossly,
"I'm not-" he began, "It's not reserved...". But Varsh was already smiling again,
"Relax, little brother- I'm just kidding." He pulled a large oval-shaped object from the knapsack slung across his shoulder, "Here, have a Riverfruit. Don't eat it all at once..."
Adric took the object reluctantly,
"What are you-?" But Varsh was already pushing something else into his hand, a paper envelope, and looking back along the deck as he did so,
"Hush little bro, just hide that somewhere, and don't say a word!"
As he said this a figure walked out of the hull at the far end of the deck, and called out,
"Varsh! I- oh!"
It was a girl. She stopped when she saw Adric, but then made her way towards them, her long blonde hair flowing about her glowing in the sunlight like a sheaf of optic fibres, her face pale, skin like plastic, her neck slender and thin, the tunic she wore scooped low at the neckline so that her throat and shoulders were bare.
"Keara!" Varsh, smiling, moved between the girl and Adric, "What are you doing up here?"
"You know what I'm doing up here!" She sounded angry, the smooth lines of her precise features spoiled by a frown and the crease of her pursed lips.
Varsh went on smiling, chuckling softly, the sound airy and, Adric knew, false,
"Hey, let me introduce you to my brother. You haven't met him yet, have you? Adric, this is Keara. Keara: Adric."
She reached them and stood, arms folded across her breasts, glaring at Varsh, then glancing towards Adric, her expression softening a little as she offered,
"Hello, Adric."
Adric stuttered something incomprehensible.
"Adric's an Elite!" Adric felt his brother's arm, heavy and strong, clasp his shoulder.
The girl's tight lips ticked into the briefest smile,
"I know." She looked at Adric with a blue crystalline gaze, "Everybody knows who your brother is, Varsh."
Varsh leaned into Adric,
"There you are, kid brother. You're famous!"
"Varsh!" The girl spoke sternly, but Adric noticed that the angles of her face had softened a little, the eyebrows arching, the lips fuller, rounded, soft. "Who is Reanne?"
Adric watched his brother frown and look about him, muttering,
"Reanne? Reanne? Um..."
"She works on your Team down at the River," Keara prompted testily.
"Oh, Reanne! Oh yeah..." The white smile. "Oh, she's just some girl. Isn't her Dad one of the technicians on the Service ducts, level three...?"
"What's this I hear-" Keara began but Varsh quieted her with an outstretched hand,
"Wait, Keara! Don't say anything, wait-" He was rummaging in his rucksack and pulled out a smallish sized Riverfruit. "Here, take this." He handed it to her.
"I don't want-"
"Take it, please, go on..."
Keara paused in the midst of a short-tempered response, aware of some significance in the gift that Varsh was emphasising with his grin and widened gaze. She took it,
"I don't want a Ri..."
Varsh had moved towards her, cupped her hands in his, bending his face to the fruit and closer to her own,
"Hey!- What's this? Here, look!"
A frown of annoyance flared on her face but then faded and she looked down,
"There's nothing..." And then she saw something and frowned again, now the edges of her mouth curling slightly upwards as Varsh moved his hands so that a segment of the fruit, ready-sliced, came away. He discarded the slice and looked into the Riverfruit,
"How strange!" He reached into the centre and seemed to be scooping out the heart of dark seeds that was amassed there. A wiry thread rose with his fingers, at the end of it a slender bar of white. "Looks like a necklace!" He shook his head, disbelieving, "This is some weird fruit!"
"Varsh!" She was smiling now, her bottom lip pushed into the upper, pursed to show disapproval but betrayed by the pinched corners of her mouth and her cheeks that were filling with colour, and Adric could see that she was breathing deep long breaths through widened nostrils.
"Look, it says something on it-" Varsh handled the object and read, "Keara – Wow!" he glanced up, grinning, "How strange is that?!"
She laughed – a musical sound, Adric thought – and took the necklace in her slender fingers,
"Is it plastic?"
"Oh yes," said Varsh, casual now, the charade over, "Only the best. And none of your reconstituted muck, either. Here! Let me put it on."
He moved around behind her, reaching around her throat, holding the thread, which, Adric realised, must have been nylon, and fastening it beneath her hair at the back.
Keara was positively glowing now, holding the pendant under her nose, examining it closely with a wide grin,
"Where did you get it?"
"A friend in the Technical Lab. He owed me." Varsh's fingers were resting at the nape of her neck, where the skin seemed thinner, translucent, the tendons taut and prominent as she turned her head to the side and upwards, finding Adric's brother's lips with her own. Her hand moved up to touch Varsh's caress, letting the pendant fall and hang and move against the shiny bones of her collar, nestling in the shallow well of skin above the soft curving flesh of her breast that swelled and sank with each deep breath.
Adric realised that he was staring and looked away. Then he heard a voice call out,
"Ah! Adric, you're here!" and as Keara and Varsh hurriedly moved apart (her fingers lingering on his hand as he let go), Adric saw between them, at the far end of the deck, a tall robed figure advancing rapidly. He stepped forwards to greet it,
"Decider Draith!", unable to disguise the alarm in his voice.
The Decider looked displeased,
"What are you doing up here, Adric? Educator Slake has been looking for you! Who are these people?"
Adric faltered, hanging his head, watching the decider's boots tread into view,
"This... my brother, Sir. My brother, and his..."
"I am Varsh, and this is Keara, Decider Draith. It is a pleasure to speak to you in person..."
Adric looked up. The Decider was standing before him now and his brother had moved forward and was standing tall with his head raised and staring directly at the elder who seemed, now that he had reached them, shorter than Adric had thought of him before, shorter, at least, than his brother who had his hand out, the brown of his arm stark against the pale grey of the Decider's robes.
Draith looked at the outstretched hand with curiosity. He looked into Varsh's face. He turned towards Keara who bobbed where she stood and lowered her head,
"You are Login, aren't you? Chief Engineer Login's daughter?" The voice was stern in the way that Adric was familiar with: indomitable.
Varsh said,
"Yes, she is. Her name is Keara."
The Decider glanced at Adric's brother briefly, his gaze taking in the boy's long lank hair, his naked shoulders, the cheap cloth of his working clothes. He looked at Keara again,
"Does your Father know that you are here?"
The girl made a quiet noise.
"She's on a break from the harvest, Decider Draith. She has my permission to be up here."
Varsh smiled. The Decider glared at him. He spoke,
"Yes, Varsh. You are a Team Leader on one of the Riverfruit crews, aren't you? I have heard a lot about you. Purser Kaith tells me that you are a talented organiser of the workforce."
Varsh hesitated, half-smiling, seemingly lost for words. The Decider went on,
"Of course, we will need people of your talents in the trying times to come."
His thin lips formed a smile and Varsh seemed to find his voice suddenly,
"Oh, I see! You mean at the Mistfall?" He scoffed contemptuously as he spoke the term. The Decider's smile persisted,
"Ah, yes, Kaith has also told me of your views on the matter."
It was common knowledge, even in the rarified environment of the Education Deck amongst the Elites, that Varsh held the opinion that the Mistfall – when the marshes rose up and the giants walked the earth – was merely a myth, a lie concocted by the authorities to keep order amongst the Working Grades. Murmurs of outrage and disdain had passed like a shudder through the Learning Labs and Adric had sat apart from the other students, his head buried in a textbook, the heat of shame burning his temples...
Varsh spoke angrily,
"You don't seem altogether shocked by the news! Maybe that's because you know it's true: Mistfall is a myth!"
"Varsh!" said Adric in a whisper. Keara's small mouth was an oval. Varsh looked at them smiling,
"He knows it's true."
The Decider spoke,
"My young boy, you would not believe such fallacies if you had all the facts at your disposal."
Varsh laughed,
"What facts? There's never been any facts! Just your word, and the stories that old women tell to frighten the grandchildren."
"There is information in the System Files-"
"What information?"
"These are not matters for your concern, young man."
"Why not? If there is proof in the System Files that the Mistfall is real, then why can't I see it? Why must it be for your eyes only? Why can't I read the truth?"
"Because you're not an Elite, Varsh!" Adric yelled suddenly, reaching out and grasping his brother's arm.
Varsh turned and looked at Adric, who was breathless, giddy, his face flushed,
"You're just a Norm, Varsh. You're just a worker who picks Riverfruit down in the valley!"
Varsh stared at him and in his eyes something flared momentarily and then went out and he looked down to where Adric was touching his arm.
Adric pulled his hand away. He began to say something– he began to say "I'm sorry"– but felt a large gnarled hand clasp his shoulder firmly. Decider Draith was beside him, tall again and irresistible,
"Come along, Adric. You must not allow yourself to be distracted from your studies. The Community is going to depend upon your skills in the future. You must not let it down."
He felt himself moving with the big man, off along the deck and away from the bright sky and the keen rush of wind and the scents of vegetation and the musk of his brother and the sweet perfume that the girl wore, and into the sterile gloom of the Starship hull once more.
He glanced back before passing through the hatchway, wanting to say his farewell, and saw the two figures silhouetted against the starkness of the daylight. They were looking at each other, nose to nose, Varsh lifting his hand to cradle the girl's chin and speaking words to her that Adric could not hear. He turned and followed the old man inside.
A minute or more later, when they reached the Mathematics lab, Decider Draith turned to him, looking down with his gaunt boney face earnestly,
"You are going to have to be careful about who you chose to associate with, Adric," he said, his voice soft and kindly. "Remember, with the privilege of being an Elite comes a great responsibility towards the whole Community. They are your first allegiance now, Adric. They are your Family. No one single person has a claim on your affections, or on the benefits that your great good gift may bring us..." he nodded and smiled, the wrinkles about his eyes and mouth like a fine web of cracks across a painted surface. "Your destiny is to do great things for the citizens of the Starship, it is time you faced up to that future and left all that is passed behind."
Adric watched the Decider leave between the rows of brightly glowing video screens and out through the far hatch where students moved in chattering ranks. He felt confused. He wasn't sure what he felt. He felt anger, deep and subtle and not at the old man or the dreary confines of these classrooms but at what lay behind in the light and the fresh air, in the sounds of the birds and the gentle laughter and the touch of a hand. Not anger; something more private.
Suddenly, he remembered the envelope that his brother had given to him out on the observation deck, and searched inside his tunic where it had been hidden. There was an object inside. He tore the paper and took the object out. It was a necklace, a white plastic tag strung on a hair-fine thread of nylon, and on the tag a name: "Reanne".