Jool turned to Farr. "Of course, we weren't so clever as to avoid setting up a rigid, stratified society to control each other with."

"Here in Parz, anyway," Farr said.

"Here in Parz," she conceded. "You Human Beings are evidently much too smart to put up with it all."

"We were," Farr said mildly. "That's why we left."

"And now you've come back," Bzya said. "To the lowest strata, at the bottom of the City... Upside, Downside, bottom, top; all those up-and-down concepts are relics of Ur-human thinking - did you know that?... here in the Downside we're regarded as less intelligent, less aware, than the rest. In the past people here have reacted to that." His large, battered, thoughtful face looked sad. "Badly. If you treat people as less than human, often they behave like it. A couple of generations ago this part of the Downside was a slum. A jungle."

"Parts of it still are," Jool said.

"But we've pulled ourselves out of it." Bzya smiled. "Self-help. Education. Oral histories, numeracy, literacy where we've the materials." He bit into a slice of beercake. "The Committee does d.a.m.n all for this part of the City. The Harbor does less, even though most of us are Harbor employees. But we can can help ourselves." help ourselves."

Farr listened to all this with a certain wonder. These people were like exiles in their own City, he thought. Like Human Beings, lost in this forest of wood and Corestuff. He told them of lessons and learning among the Human Beings - histories of the tribe and of the greater mankind beyond the Star, told by elders to little huddles of children suspended between the vortex lines. Bzya and Jool listened thoughtfully.

When the food was finished, they rested for a while. Then Bzya and Jool moved a little closer to each other, apparently unconsciously. Their huge heads dipped, so that their brows were almost touching. They reached forward and placed wide, strong fingers on the rim of the Wheel. Quietly they began to speak - in unison, a slow, solemn litany of names, none of them familiar to Farr. He watched them in silence.

When they finished, after perhaps a hundred names, Bzya opened his eyecups wide and smiled at Farr. "A little oral history in action, my friend."

Jool's face had resumed the sly, playful expression of earlier. She reached across the Wheel-table and touched Farr's sleeve. "Have you figured out what my job is yet?"

"Oh, stop teasing the boy," Bzya said loudly. "I'll tell you. She gathers petals from the Upside gardens, and delivers them to the pig-farms - the small in-City ones scattered around Parz, where the pigs for the Air-cars that run within the City are kept."

"Think about it," Jool said. "The streets of the City are hot and cramped. Enclosed. All those cars. All those pigs..."

"The petals are ground up and added to the pigs' feed," Bzya said.

Farr frowned. "Why?"

"To make them easier to live with." Solemnly, Jool bent forward, tilted her stump of leg, grabbed her wide b.u.t.tocks through her coverall and separated them, and farted explosively.

Bzya laughed.

Farr looked from one to the other, uncertainly.

Then the smell hit him. Her fart was petal-perfumed.

Bzya shook his head, sighing. "Oh, don't pay her any attention; it will only encourage her. More beercake?"

16.

THE DRIVER OF THE CAR FROM PARZ City was Deni Maxx, the junior doctor who had treated Adda. Dura wanted to rush to her, to demand news of Farr and Adda.

The Human Beings - all twenty of them, including the five children - emerged from their shelter in the forest and trailed after Dura. Deni Maxx peered out of the open hatch at her, staring indifferently past her at the ring of skinny Human Beings. "I'm glad I've found you."

"I'm surprised you managed it. The upflux is a big place."

Deni shrugged. She seemed irritated, impatient. "It wasn't so hard. Toba Mixxax gave me precise directions from his ceiling-farm to the place he first found you. All I had to do was scout around until you responded to my call."

Philas crowded close to Dura. The widow pressed her mouth close to Dura's ear; Dura was aware, uncomfortably, of the sweet, thin stink of leaves and bark on Philas's breath. "Who is she? What does she want?"

Dura pulled her head away. She was aware of Deni's appraising gaze. She felt a swirl of contradictory emotions: irritation at Deni's high-handed manner, and yet a certain embarra.s.sment at the awkward, childlike behavior of the Human Beings. Had she been such a primitive on her first encounter with Toba Mixxax?

"Get in the car," Deni said. "We've a long journey back to Parz, and I was told to hurry..."

"Who by? Why am I being recalled? Is it something to do with my indenture? Surely you saw Qos Frenk's ceiling-farm - or what was left of it; it's no longer functioning. Qos released us, and..."

"It's nothing to do with your indenture. I'll explain on the way." Deni drummed her fingers on the frame of the car's door.

Dura was aware of the staring eyes of the rest of the tribe, as they waited mutely for her to make a decision. She felt a brief, selfish stab of impatience with them; they were dependent, like children. She wanted to go back to Parz. She wanted to go back to Parz. She could surely - she told herself - find out more about the situation of Farr and Adda there than if she stayed with the Human Beings as just another simple refugee upfluxer. And, in the long run - she justified to herself - she could maybe do more to help all the Human Beings by returning than by staying here. Something important must be required of her, for the City to send someone like Deni Maxx to fetch her. Perhaps in some odd way she would have She could surely - she told herself - find out more about the situation of Farr and Adda there than if she stayed with the Human Beings as just another simple refugee upfluxer. And, in the long run - she justified to herself - she could maybe do more to help all the Human Beings by returning than by staying here. Something important must be required of her, for the City to send someone like Deni Maxx to fetch her. Perhaps in some odd way she would have influence influence over events... over events...

Philas tugged at her arm, like a child, demanding attention. Dura pulled her arm away angrily - and instantly regretted the impulse.

The truth was, she admitted to herself, she was relieved that she had an excuse, and the means, to get away from the suffocating company of the Human Beings. But she felt such guilt guilt about it. about it.

She came to a quick decision. "I'll come with you," she told Deni. "But not alone."

Deni frowned. "What?"

"I'll take the children." She widened her arms to indicate the five children - the youngest was Mur's infant, Jai, the oldest an adolescent girl.

Deni Maxx launched into a volley of complaints.

Dura turned her back and confronted the Human Beings. They pulled their children to themselves in baffled silence, their eyes huge and fixed on her. She ran a hand through her hair, exasperated. Slowly, patiently, she described what awaited the children at Parz City. Food. Shelter. Safety. Surely she could prevail on Toba Mixxax to find temporary homes for the children. They were all young enough to seem cute to the City folk, she calculated, surprising herself with her own cynicism. And in a few short years they'd be able to turn their upfluxer muscles to gainful employment.

She was consigning the children to lives in the Downside, she realized. But it was better than starving here, or sharing their parents' epic trek across the devastated hinterland of Parz. And eventually, she insisted to the bewildered parents, they would reach Parz themselves and be reunited with their offspring.

The adults were baffled and frightened, struggling to deal with concepts they could barely envisage. But they trusted her, Dura realized slowly, with a mixture of relief and shame - and so, one by one, the children were delivered to Dura.

Deni Maxx glared as the grimy bodies of the children were pa.s.sed into her car, and Dura wondered if Deni was even now going to raise some cruel objection. But when the doctor watched Dura settle little Jai - frightened and crying for his mother - in the arms of the oldest girl at the back of the car, Deni's irritation visibly softened.

At last it was done. Dura gathered the bereft adults in a huddle and gave them strict instructions on how to get to the Pole. They listened to her solemnly. Then Dura embraced them all, and climbed into the car.

As Deni flicked the team of Air-pigs into motion, Dura stared back through the huge, expansive windows at the Human Beings. Shorn of their children, they looked lost, bewildered, futile. Dia and Mur clung to each other. I've taken away their future, I've taken away their future, Dura realized. Dura realized. Their reason for living. Their reason for living.

Or, perhaps, I've preserved their future.

When the Human Beings were out of sight - and despite the continuing crying of the frightened, disoriented children - Dura settled into one of the car's expensive coc.o.o.ns, relief and guilt once more competing for her soul.

Deni steered the car with unconscious skill along the renewed vortex lines. "The City is taking in injured from the hinterland. It's not been easy, for any of us." The doctor was scarcely recognizable from the cheerful, rather patronizing woman who had treated Adda, Dura thought; Maxx's eyecups were ringed by darkness and crusty sleep deposits; her face seemed to have sunk in on itself, becoming gaunt and severe, and she hunched over her reins with tense, knotted muscles.

Dura stared moodily out of the car's huge windows at the Crust as it pa.s.sed over them. She remembered how she had marveled at the orderliness of the great hinterland with its ceiling-farms and gardens, as she had viewed it that first time with Toba Mixxax. Now, by contrast, she was appalled at the destruction the Glitch had wrought. In great swathes the farms had been scoured from the Crust, leaving the bare root-ceiling exposed. Here and there coolies still toiled patiently at the shattered land, but the naked ceiling had none of the vigor of the natural forest; obscenely stripped of its rectangles of cultivation it looked like an open wound.

Deni tried to explain how the Crust had responded to the Glitch by ringing ringing - vibrating in sectors, apparently all over the Star; the devastation had come in orderly waves, with a lethal and offensive neatness. Dura let the words wash over her, barely understanding. - vibrating in sectors, apparently all over the Star; the devastation had come in orderly waves, with a lethal and offensive neatness. Dura let the words wash over her, barely understanding.

"The destruction persists right around the hinterland," Deni said. "At least half the ceiling-farms have stopped functioning, and the rest can only work on a limited basis." She glanced at Dura. "Parz City doesn't have much stock of food, you know; she relies on the daily traffic from the ceiling-farms. And you know what they say..."

"What?"

"Any society is only a meal away from revolution. Hork has already inst.i.tuted rationing. In the long term, I doubt it's going to be enough. Still, at the moment people seem to be accepting the troubles we're having: patiently waiting their turn for medical treatment behind ranks of coolies, following the orders of the Committee. Eventually, I guess, they will blame the Committee for their woes."

Dura took a deep breath. "Just as you're blaming me?"

Deni turned to her, her eyes wide. "Why do you say that?"

"Your tone. Your manner with me, ever since you arrived to bring me back."

Deni rubbed her nose, and when she looked at Dura again there was a faint smile on her lips. "No. I don't blame you, my dear. But I do resent being a ferry driver. I have patients to treat... At a time like this I have better things to do than..."

"Then why did you come to get me?"

"Because Muub ordered me to."

"Muub? Oh, the Administrator."

"He felt I was the only person who would recognize you." She sniffed. "Old fool. There aren't that many upfluxers on Qos Frenk's ceiling-farm, after all."

"I still don't understand why you're here."

"Because that friend of yours insisted on it." She frowned. "Adda? Worst patient in the world. But what beautiful work we did with his pneumatic vessels."

The Air seemed thick in Dura's mouth. "Adda is alive? He's safe?"

"Oh, yes. He was with Muub when the Glitch hit. He's quite well... or at least, as well as before. You know, with injuries like that it's a miracle he's able to move about. And..."

Dura closed her eyes. She hadn't dared ask of her kinsmen earlier - as if phrasing the very question would tempt fate. "And Farr?"

"Who? Oh, the boy. Your brother, isn't he? Yes, he's fine. He was in the Harbor..."

"You've seen him? You've seen seen that he's safe?" that he's safe?"

"Yes." Some compa.s.sion entered Deni's voice. "Dura, don't worry about your people. Adda had Farr brought to the Palace..."

"The Palace?" Palace?"

"Yes, it was a condition of him working with Hork, apparently."

Dura laughed; it was as if a huge pressure had been lifted from her heart. But still, what was Adda doing handing out orders at the Palace? Why were they so important, all of a sudden? "Things have changed since I've been gone."

Deni nodded. "Yes, but don't ask me about it... Muub will tell you, when we dock." She growled. "Another Physician taken away from healing people... I hope this project of Hork's, whatever it is, really is important enough to cost so many lives."

They were approaching the South Pole now; the vortex lines, deceptively orderly, were beginning to converge. Dura studied the Crust. The elegant, pretty farms and gardens of the ceilingscape here had largely been spared the Glitch's devastation, but there was something odd: the Crust had a fine texture, as if it were covered by fine, dark furs - furs which Waved in slow formation toward the Pole.

Dura pointed this out to Deni. "What's that?"

Deni glanced up. "Refugees, my dear. From all over the devastated hinterland. No longer able to work on their farms, they are converging on Parz City, hoping for salvation."

Dura stared around the sky. Refugees. Refugees. The Crust seemed black with humanity. The Crust seemed black with humanity.

The children started to cry again. Dura turned to comfort them.

When Hork heard that the two upfluxers - the boy from the Harbor and the woman, Dura - had been located and were being returned to the Upside, he called Muub and the old fool Adda to another meeting in the Palace anteroom.

Adda settled into his coc.o.o.n of rope, his splinted legs dangling absurdly, and he swept his revolting one-eyed gaze around the anteroom as if he owned the place.

Hork suppressed his irritation. "Your people are safe. They are inside the City. Now I would like to continue with our discussion."

Adda stared, eyeing him up as if he were a coolie in the Market. At last the old man nodded. "Very well. Let's proceed."

Hork saw Muub sigh, evidently with relief.

"I return to my final question," Hork said. "I concede the existence of the Xeelee. But I am not concerned with myths. I don't want to hear about the awesome racial goals of the Xeelee... I want to know what they want with us." us."

"I told you," Adda said evenly. "They don't want anything of us. I don't think they even know we're here. But they do want something of our world - our Star."

"Apparently they wish to destroy it," Muub said, running a hand over his bare scalp.

"Evidently," Adda said. "Hork, the wisdom of my people - handed down verbally since our expulsion from..."

"Yes, yes."

"...has nothing to say about any purpose of the Star. But we do know that humans were brought here, to this Star. By the Ur-humans. And we were adapted to survive here."

Muub was nodding at this. "This isn't a surprise, sir. a.n.a.logous anatomy studies have come to similar conclusions."

"I am struggling to contain my fascination," Hork said acidly. Restless, frustrated, he pushed his way out of his sling and began to swim briskly around the room. He watched the turning of the small, powerful cooling-fan set in one corner of the painted sky; he studied the captive vortex ring in its nest of clearwood spheres. He resisted the temptation to smash the spheres again, despite his mounting frustration; the cost of repair had been ruinous - indefensible, actually, in such times as now. "Go on with your account. If humans were brought here, made to fit the Mantle - then why isn't the evidence of this all around us? Where are the devices which made us? Where are these 'different' Ur-humans?"

Adda shook his head. "At one time there was was plenty of evidence. Marvelous devices, left here by the Ur-men to help us survive, and to work here. Wormhole Interfaces. Weapons, huge structures which would dwarf your shabby City..." plenty of evidence. Marvelous devices, left here by the Ur-men to help us survive, and to work here. Wormhole Interfaces. Weapons, huge structures which would dwarf your shabby City..."

"Where are they now?" Hork snapped. "And don't tell me they were suppressed, deliberately destroyed by some vindictive Parz administration of the past."

"No." Adda smiled. "Your forebears did not have to conceal physical evidence... merely the truth."

"Get on with it."

"The Colonists," Adda said slowly.

"What?"

Once, humans had traveled throughout the Star. The Quantum Sea had been as clear as the Air to them, in their marvelous machines. They had been able to venture even into the outer layers of the Core with impunity. And there had been marvelous gateways, called wormhole Interfaces, which had allowed humans even to travel outside the Star itself. outside the Star itself.

The humans, following the commands of their departed creators, the Ur-humans, had set about rebuilding the Star. And the mysterious Colonists, sleeping in their quark soup at the Core, had become hostile to the growing power of humans.