The Children of the Sky

Nevil had remodeled the interior, partly with local materials, partly by revising walls into explicit access points and game stations. He’d decorated everything in what he confessed was a poor imitation of the manner of Straum. Timor led Ravna across the gem-tiled floor, showing her wonder after wonder. “And see above?” The boy was staring up, wavering a little with his uncertain balance. “It’s the skyline round Straumli Main. I remember it from just before we left for the High Lab. I had friends in beginning school there.” She knew he had been about four years old when he left Straumli Main, but somehow those memories had survived everything since.

“It’s nice, Timor.”

“No, it’s beautiful! Thank you for building it for us.”

“It wasn’t just me,” said Ravna. In fact, virtually none of the detail design had been her own. Most was from Nevil and his friends, but Nevil thought it best if for now she got as much credit as possible.

Belle slipped around Ravna to stand by Timor. The pack was mostly watching the stations running hunter games, but she sounded bored: “I’ve heard this is nothing like the real Beyond; the Children will get tired of the gimmicks soon enough.”

“No, we won’t!” responded Timor, his voice getting a little loud. “I love it here, and there’s more! I’ll show you.” He turned away, leaving Belle’s gaze still caught with an addict’s intensity on the game displays. Not until Ravna had walked past her did she recover and follow along.

Timor took them away from the game and sports floors and up a ramp. Here, the exciting noises of the gaming area were muted by Oobii’s active acoustics. Ten or twelve of the oldest Children were sitting around a projecting display space. Maybe this was a strategy game, or— Then she noticed Nevil standing a little back from the chairs. It looked as if he had just arrived, too. She started toward him, but Timor was plucking at her sleeve. “Do you see what they’re doing?”

There were intricate models floating in the space between the chairs and the wall. Small windows hung by each of the kids. The models looked like some kind of network thing, but—she shook her head.

“Øvin can explain!” Timor drew her over to where Øvin Verring and Elspa Latterby were sitting together.

Øvin looked up at her appearance. There was a flash of surprise in his face, and perhaps nervousness. “Hello, Ravna!”

“Hei,” said Elspa, and gave a little wave.

Ravna grinned at him. “So what are you all doing?” She looked around at the entire group. Except for Heida Øysler, these were some of the most serious of the Children. “Not a game?”

Elspa shook her head. “Ah, no. We’re trying to learn to, um—”

Heida took over: “Ever wonder why we kids haven’t pushed to use Oobii’s automation?”

“A little.” In fact, most of the Children had resisted learning programming almost as much as they had more primitive skills.

“Two reasons,” said Heida. “You seemed to want it for your projects—but just as important, this starship is as dumb as a rock.”

“It’s the best that can exist here, Heida.”

“I like it a lot!” put in Timor.

Heida grinned. “Okay then, so it’s not a dumb rock; it’s more like one of those whatsits, a flaked stone arrowhead. The point is, it’s worthless for—”

Øvin shook his head. “What Heida is trying to say in her own gracious way is…” He thought for a second, perhaps trying to come up with something less ungracious. “… is that now that we have access beyond our classes, maybe we should learn to change our ways and make the best use of Oobii that we can. So far we’re visualizing the problem. That’s usually the hard part. Let me show you.”

He turned and glanced at the others. Each was suddenly busy with details on his or her own display. What Ravna could see looked like art programming, but performed in some incredibly roundabout way. Elspa Latterby looked up. “Yes, all clear. Go for it, Øvin.”

The structure forming in the space between the kids didn’t look like art. There were thousands of points of light, variously connected by colored lines.

Will someone please explain this to me? thought Ravna. It might be a network simulation, but there was no labelling. Ah, wait, she could almost guess at the power law on the connections. Maybe this was a—

Øvin was talking again: “This was hell to put together using Oobii’s interface, but we’ve visualized a whole-body map of the transduction network in a modern human. Well, it’s what Oobii has on file, a racial average across Sjandra Kei. We Straumers can’t be much different. Anyway—” He zoomed in on one cluster in the network. The rest of the complexity shifted to the sides, not exactly disappearing, but moving into the far distance. “This,” Øvin continued, “covers part of the motor stability region.”