From that higher point of awareness Seven thought smugly, “I should get an A on that part of the examination.” Then, confused, he wondered what he meant.

Chapter Four

The Descent of Proteus

Proteus had been aware of his emotional pull toward the Earth for as long as he could remember. It was shared by practically no one. None of his school friends showed the slightest interest. During the long afternoons when they sat in their separate living areas for television classes, and when they chatted back and forth via video during discussion periods, Earth was hardly ever mentioned.

They did talk about going outside when school was over and the sets turned off, but none of them seemed to realize that outside wasn’t really outside. Of course, the plastic trees were replicas of real ones, and the shade they provided was real enough. But the steadily illuminated inner sky beneath the dome was never that bright; shade wasn’t needed that badly. It was just for effect. No birds flew through the branches either, and no matter how well cared for the trees were, they always looked artificial to him. It seemed sometimes as if he knew better, that in some forgotten past he’d known real trees and would never be satisfied with fake ones. Which was impossible, of course.

The floating cities were held in place by atomically powered motors that automatically compensated for any drift relative to particular designated points on Earth. No one alive remembered the time when people lived on Earth in any numbers. And there had never been real trees in the domed city complexes. But despite this, he dreamed frequently of Earth as it used to be. He felt angry on its behalf. They’d simply abandoned it, given it up. He began devouring the microfilms that were available from the vast video library. Often he sat up late at night, secretly, watching the films until morning.

His excitement grew with his knowledge. There were various outposts on Earth: archeological sites and diggings, several scientific installations, and, he suspected, a few back-to-nature communities that somehow eluded satellite surveillance. He couldn’t be sure of this, he told himself for the hundredth time, but it was a possibility.

He began to gather supplies weeks in advance of his plan. His mother had an administrative position, coming home only a few weekends in a six-month period. So hiding his intent from her was no problem. Maintaining secrecy in the face of his father’s almost constant presence was something else again. Mithias was a group father, though, keeping track of some thirty boys and girls on closed-circuit television, overseeing their studies and scheduled activities. Seeing his father so engaged always made Proteus angry: Why couldn’t classes be held in one big school nodule as they had in ages past?