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"Better than drifting, like we do. Better than that."
Mur lifted his face to the Crust-forest and Waved hard, ignoring the gathering ache in his hips, knees and
ankles.
19
Dura made sure it was she, not Farr, whom Hork chose to go on the journey into the underMantle.
At first Adda tried to explain Dura's reasoning to Farr, to provide a bridge between them; but he could
see that Farr was devastated. The boy mooched around the Upside apartment Hork had loaned the
Human Beings like a trapped Air-pig. Adda wistfully watched him prowl, recalling Logue as a young
man. The underMantle journey had many potent elements for Farr the chance to protect his sibling by
taking her place, the intrinsic excitement of the jaunt itself. Farr was still such a melange of boy and man.
But if one of the three Human Beings must go on this absurd trip then Dura was the best choice. Farr
didn't have the maturity, or Adda himself the strength, to cope with the challenges the journey would
provide...
Adda cursed himself silently. Even in the privacy of his own mind he was starting to use the diluted
language of the City folk, to be influenced by their gray thinking. Into the Core with that.
The truth was that whoever went down inside this ramshackle craft into the underMantle would almost
certainly die there. Dura's qualification was only that she, of the three of them, had the skills and strength
marginally to reduce that level of certainty.
So, knowing Dura's decision was right, Adda gave up trying to convince Farr. Instead he tried to
support the decision in Farr's mind in subtle ways by taking the decision as a given, not even trying to
justify it. He concentrated on trying to distract Farr from his anxious, angry concern for his sister, which
wound up tighter as the day of the Mantlecraft's launch neared. To this end Adda was pleased with the
friendships Farr had made in his brief time in the City with Cris, and the Fisherman Bzya and tried to
encourage them.
When Cris offered to take Farr Surfing again Farr at first refused, unwilling to break out of his
absorption with Dura; but Adda pressed him to accept the invitation. In the end it was a little party of
four Cris, Farr, Adda and Bzya who set off, two days before Dura's launch, through the corridors for
the open Air.
Adda had taken a liking to the huge, battered Fisherman, and sensed that Bzya had given Farr a great
deal of support more than Farr realized, probably during Farr's brief time in the Harbor. Now Farr
was free of his indenture, thanks to the whim of Hork V, and here was the boy showing his immaturity
again, Adda reflected now he seemed to sympathize little with Bzya, who was stuck with the situation
Farr had escaped the huge, stinking halls of the Harbor machines, and the depths of the underMantle.
Instead, Farr complained at how little he saw of Bzya.
Adda had no qualms in accepting Bzya's help as they made their way through the busy corridors; the
presence of Bzya's huge arm guiding him was somehow less patronizing, less insulting, than any other City
man's.
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As they traveled out from the core of the City the street-corridors became barer, free of doors and
buildings, and the Air more dusty. At last they reached the Skin. It was dark, deserted here, almost
disquietingly so, and the City hull stretched above and below them. Adda surveyed the workmanship
critically: curving sheets of crudely cut wooden planks, hammered onto a thick framework. It was like
being in the interior of a huge mask. From without, the City was imposing, even to a worldly-wise
upfluxer like himself; but seen from within, its primitive design and construction were easy to discern.
These City folk really weren't so advanced, despite their facility with Corestuff; the Ur-humans would
surely have laughed at this wooden box.
They Waved slowly along the Skin, not speaking, until Cris brought them to a small doorway, set into
the Skin and locked by a wheel. With Bzya's help Cris turned the stiff wheel it creaked as it rotated,
releasing small puffs of dust and shoved the door open.
Adda hauled himself through the doorframe and into the open Air. He Waved a few mansheights away
from the City and hovered in the Air, breathing in the fresh stuff with a surge of relief. The party had
emerged about halfway up the rectangular bulk of the City in theMidside, Adda reminded himself and
the skin of Parz, like the face of a giant, cut off half the sky behind him. The imposing curve of a
Longitude anchor-band swept over the rough surface a few dozen mansheights off; electron gas fizzed
around the band's Corestuff flanks, a visible reminder of the awesome currents flowing through its
superconductor structure.
Adda's lungs seemed to expand. The vortex lines crossed the shining sky all around him, plunging into
the crimson-purple pool that was the Pole beneath the City. The Air here was thick and clammy they
were right over the Pole, after all but inside the City he always had the feeling he was breathing in
someone else's farts.
The two boys tumbled away into the Air, hauling the Surfboard; Adda was pleased to see Farr's natural,
youthful vigor coming to the surface as he Waved energetically through the Air, responding to the
refreshing openness. Bzya joined Adda; the two older men hung in the Magfield like leaves.
"That door was a little stiff," Adda said drily.
Bzya nodded. "Not many City folk use the pedestrian exits."
Pedestrian.Another antique, meaningless word.
"Most of 'em never leave the City walls at all. And those that do because they have to, like your
ceiling-farmer friend take their cars."
"Is that a good thing, do you think?"
Bzya shrugged. He was wearing a scuffed, ill-fitting coverall, and under its coarse fabric his shoulder
muscles bunched like independent animals. "Neither one nor the other. It's just the way things are. And
always have been."
"Not always," Adda murmured. He gazed around the sky with his good eye and sniffed, trying to assess
the spin weather. "And maybe not forever. The City isn't immune to the changes wrought by these
unnatural Glitches. Even your great leader Hork admits that."
Bzya nodded at the boys. "It's good to see Farr looking a bit happier."
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"Yes." Adda smiled. "The body has its wisdom. When you're doing barrel-rolls in the Air, it's hard to
remember your problems."
Bzya patted his ample gut. "I wish I could remember doing barrel-rolls even. Still, I know what you
mean." Now Cris had set up his board. Farr rested it against the soft, even resistance of the Magfield and
Cris set his feet on it, flexing his legs experimentally. Adda saw the boy's muscles bunch as he pressed
against the Magfield; his arms were outstretched and his fingers seemed to tickle at the Air, as if assessing
the strength and direction of the Magfield. Farr pushed him off, recoiling through a mansheight or so, and
Cris rocked the board steadily. He slid through the Air with impressive speed and grace; boy and board
looked like a single entity, inseparable. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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