This afternoon, though, every thought but one fled from Proteus’s concern. Each Tuesday he and his friend, Grek, went hiking, an activity favored by almost everyone, to ensure sufficient muscular and motor development. This Tuesday would be different though, from any other. Proteus thought that Grek would sense his excitement the minute they met, no matter how he tried to hide it. But Grek just walked beside him, talking as usual about everyday events.

Everything Proteus did or said himself seemed unnatural and suspicious to him. He kept throwing sideways glances at Grek, sure that he’d somehow given himself away, but Grek obviously saw nothing different about the day or about Proteus. They’d taken their lunch as usual. Out of sheer nervousness, Proteus suggested that they see which of the two of them could eat the quickest.

So they went down the plastic streets, whooping and laughing, popping the lunch pills (L.P.’s) in their mouths as fast as possible. They each had two protein-basics (P.B.’s), two carbohydrate-simples (C.S.’s), and an amino acid supplement (A.A.S.). Proteus let Grek win, because he felt guilty about hiding his plans from him, and he was feeling guiltier each minute.

The game had been foolish, too, he thought. It would be the last time he’d gobble his L.P.’s so nonchalantly, so sure of a constant supply. Had he stashed away enough of them? He was sure that he had. Still….

“You sure are quiet,” Grek said.

“Oh, it’s the same old thing,” Proteus said. “Walking down these streets depresses me, though I know it shouldn’t. And I keep wishing boys were given the same training that girls are, taken into the heart of business and politics at a young age, so they can see how the world works. If we were girls we’d be studying seriously at our age, not just passively watching our fathers manage the living nodules or learning unimportant, mundane skills—” Actually, Proteus was surprised at the normal sound of dissatisfaction in his voice, because he was only talking for something to say. But he wasn’t concerned with problems like that any more. Not him.

A few boys went by on aero-skis. A man sat out on the porch of a nodule, his face expressionless as they passed. “See?” Proteus said. “He looks as artificial as the trees. Well, not really. My father knows him. He’s got as much responsibility as any man around here, but it just isn’t enough. He manages rain regulation, but it’s all computerized anyway—”

“Oh, don’t start on that stuff again,” Grek said. “My father says you’ll end up in real trouble. You’re so damn dissatisfied all the time.”

This sent Proteus into a laughing fit. “If you only knew—” he said. “I mean, how funny that is! What kind of trouble can you get into around here?”