The others sat up in bed, hugging their knees, their eyes sparkling with anticipation. This was their day, far more important than a birthday. Each of them had been born in 2132 and each had reached the magicage of fifteen - adulthood- during the last year. Today, in the presence of the whole Web, they would cease to be neophytes and be welcomed as members of the adult community of Ark Three. And, as if that in itself were not sufficient excitement, there was to be a banquet and, after the banquet, a dance. With boys. “But if Fidelius doesn't ask me I shall just die…” said Charity suddenly, and even Ruth knew exactly what she'd been thinking.

She sighed. “I'm scared to dance. Suppose I fall over my feet? Worse, suppose I fall over his?”

“Whose, Ruth? Who do you fancy?” There was no mistaking the mocking tone in Angela's voice.

Ruth flushed. “Nobody.”

“Oh, come on.” There was a laughing chorus of protests. “No, honestly.” But am I weird about that too? She wondered. Because she just wasn't interested in boys like Justin or Michael or even the black-browed Fidelius. Somewhere in her heart was an image, as foggy as an out-of-focus microreader, and the image was nothing like any of the Grade Eight boys.

“Anyway, I expect no one'll ask me to dance. But if they do oh, dear, whatever shall I do?”

“You'll dance, Ruth. It's easy.” Apparently regretting her scornful remark, Angela jumped off her bed and grabbed Ruth's hand. “Come on. Let's practise”

“Dum-de-dum, dum-de-dum.” Between the rows of beds they danced. “No, relax. You're like a board. Pretend you're dancing by yourself.”

Ruth closed her eyes. As Angela hummed, into her mind flashed a picture of a dark night and a fire. Of a song and people dancing.

“That's it. Not bad at all. Now just remember that he' s supposed to lead, except in the country dances.”

“I like them. I don't feel so stupid.”

“You shouldn't worry so much about what other people are thinking of you.” Angela gave the self-confident smile of the beautiful and clever, who have never been put down by anyone. “Then you'll get on better. There, I hear the others getting up. Time for showers, girls.”

THE MORNING crawled by in endless insignificant duties, but at last Ruth found herself sitting with all the Grade Eight classes in the front rows of the Assembly Hall. It was J beautiful room, painted in shades of gold that reminded her of the sunlit glade of her dreams. At the centre was a low platform with four seats on it, each facing outwards to a different quadrant of the room. Around the platform were circles of chairs, sufficient for the whole population of Ark Three. The circles were broken by four main aisles that divided the seating into four quadrants.