Farr, with Bzya prompting, dug his hands into the bowls and crammed the spicy, flavorsome food into his mouth. As they ate, the conversation dried up, with both Bzya and Jool too intent on feeding. He couldn't help comparing the little home with the Mixxaxes', in the upper Midside. There was only one room, in contrast to the Mixxaxes' five. A waste chute — scrupulously clean — pierced another wall of the room they ate in. And Jool and Bzya were far less tidy than the Mixxaxes. The clump of cleaned clothes had been simply abandoned by Bzya, and now it drifted in the Air, sleeves slowly uncoiling like limp spin-spider legs. But the place was clean. And he spotted a bundle of scrolls, loosely tied together and jammed into one corner. The Wheel symbol was everywhere — carved into the walls, the shape of the table from which they ate, sculpted into the back of the door. There was a much greater feeling of age, of poor construction and shabbiness, than in the Midside... But there was more character here, he decided slowly.

He looked at the wide, battered, intelligent faces of Bzya and Jool as they worked at their food. The light of the lamps seemed to diffuse around them, so that their faces were evenly illuminated (the apparently random placing of the lamps was actually anything but, he realized). There was a quiet, unpretentious intelligence here, he thought.

He briefly imagined living with these people. What if he'd grown up here, deep inside Parz, in this strange, old, cramped part of the City?

It wouldn't have been so bad, he decided. His mood swung into a feeling of pigletish devotion to these two decent people.

Surreptitiously he shook his head, wondering if the beercake was affecting his judgment.

He became aware of Jool and Bzya watching his face curiously.

He blurted, "Do you have children?"

Jool smiled over a fistful of food. "Yes. One, a girl. Shar. We don't see much of her. She works out of the City."

"Don't you miss her?"

"Of course," Bzya said simply. "Which is why I haven't mentioned her before, Farr. What can't be helped shouldn't be brooded on."

"Why not bring her back?"

"It would be up to her," Bzya said gently. "I doubt if she'd want to come. But she's too far away. She's a ceiling-farm coolie. Like your sister, from what you say."

Farr felt vaguely excited. "I wonder if they'll meet."

Jool laughed. "The hinterland may seem a small place to an upfluxer, Farr, but it contains hundreds of ceiling-farms. Shar's serving out her indenture. It's hard for her to get home until that's through. Then, maybe, she'll get a more senior job on the farm. She's working for a decent owner. Equitable."

"I don't understand."