He made out sturdy pyramids fixed to the deck, waist-high. And out of each pyramid a cable soared straight upwards; Rees tilted his face back, following the line of the cables, and he gasped. To each cable was tethered the trunk of a tree. To Rees one flying tree had been wonder enough. Now, over the Raft, he was faced with a mighty forest. Every tethering cable was vertical and quite taut, and Rees could almost feel the exertion of the harnessed trees as they strained against the pull of the Core.

A hundred questions tumbled through Rees's mind. What would it be like to walk on that metal surface? What must it have been like for the Crew who had built the Raft, hanging in the void above the Core?

But now wasn't the time; there was still work to do. Pallis was already bellowing at Gover. Rees got to his feet, wrapping his toes in the foliage like a regular woodsman.

Pallis joined him, and they labored at a fire bowl together.

"Rees, you can't have had any real idea what the Raft is like. So... why did you do it? What were you running from?"

Rees considered the question. "I wasn't running from anything, pilot. The mine is a tough place, but it was my home. No. I left to find the answer."

"The answer? To what?"

"To why the Nebula is dying."

Pallis studied the serious young miner and felt a chill settle on his spine.

How much education did the average miner get? Pallis doubted Rees was even literate. As soon as a child was strong enough he or she was forced into the foundry or down to the crushing surface of the iron star, to begin a life of muscle-sapping toil...

And the Belt's children were forced there by the economics of the Nebula, he reminded himself harshly; economics which he -- Pallis -- helped to keep in place.

He shook his head, troubled. Pallis had never accepted the theory, common on the Raft, that the miners were a species of sub-human, fit only for the toil they endured. What was the life span of the miners? Thirty thousand shifts? Less, maybe half of Pallis's own age already?

What a fine woodsman Rees would make... or, he admitted ruefully, maybe a better Scientist.

A vague plan began to form in his mind.

Maybe Pallis could help Rees find a place on the Raft.

It wouldn't be easy. Rees would face a lifetime of hostility from the likes of Gover. And the Raft was no bed of flowers and leaves; its economy, too, had declined with the slow choking of the Nebula.

But Rees deserved a chance. And Rees was a smart kid. Maybe, Pallis mused, just maybe he might actually find some answers. Was it possible?