It had been against the rules. Sort of. But it was tolerated, and hardly unique — as long as Dura obeyed a few unspoken conventions. Such as restricting her reaction to Esk's death, keeping herself away from the widowed Philas.

Just another bit of stupidity, Adda thought. The Human Beings had once numbered hundreds — even in the days of Adda's grandfather there had been over a hundred adults — and maybe then conventions about adultery might have made sense. But not now.

He shook his head. Adda had despaired of Human Beings long before Farr was born.

"They want to go back," said Dura, her voice flat. "But I'll go on. Philas will come."

The woman Philas, her face drab and empty, her hair lying limply against her angular skull, looked to Adda as if she had nothing left to lose anyway. Well, he thought, if it helped the two women work out their own relationship, then fine.

Some hunting expedition it was going to be, though.

He lifted his spear.

Dura frowned. "No," she said. "I can't ask you to..."

Adda growled a soft warning to shut her up.

Farr straightened up from the burning pit. "I'll come too," he said brightly, his face turned up to Dura.

Dura placed her hands on his shoulders. "Now, that's ridiculous," she said in a parent's tones. "You know you're too young to..."

Farr responded with bleated protests, but Adda cut across him impatiently. "Let the boy come," he rasped to Dura. "You think he'd be safer with those leaf-gatherers? Or back at the place where the Net used to be?"

Dura's anxious face swiveled from Adda to her brother and back again. At length she sighed, smoothing back her hair. "All right. Let's go."

They gathered their simple equipment. Dura knotted a length of rope around her waist and tucked a short stabbing-knife and cleaning brush into the rope, behind her back; she tied a small bag of food to the rope.

Then, without another word to the others, the four of them — Adda, Dura, Farr and the widow Philas — began the slow, careful climb toward the darkness of the Crust.

3

THEY MOVED IN SILENCE.

At first Dura found the motion easy. The tree slid beneath her, almost featureless, slowly widening as she climbed up its length. The tree trunk grew along the direction of the Magfield, and so moving along it meant moving in the easiest direction, parallel to the Magfield, with the superfluid Air offering hardly any resistance. It was barely necessary to Wave; Dura found it was enough to push at the smooth, warm bark with her hands.