A confusion of smells assaulted Rees's senses — sharp ozone from the Rim machines and other workshops and factories, woodsmoke from a thousand chimneys, the hint of exotic cooking scents from the cabins.
And people — more than Rees could count, so many that the Belt population would be easily lost among them — people walked about the Raft in great streams; and knots of running children exploded here and there into bursts of laughter.
He made out sturdy pyramids fixed to the deck, no more than waist high. Rees squinted, scanning the deck; the pyramids stood everywhere. He saw a couple lingering beside one, talking quietly, the man scuffing the metal cone with one foot; and there a group of children chased through a series
of the pyramids in a complicated game of catch.
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. The light of the Nebula was filtered by its passage through the rotating ranks of trees, so that the deck of the Raft was immersed in a soothing gloom; around the forest dancing skitters softened the light to pastel pink.
Rees's tree rose until It passed the highest layer of the forest. The Raft turned from a landscape back into an island in the air, crowned by a mass of shifting foliage. The sky above Rees seemed darker than usual, so that he felt he was suspended at the very edge of the Nebula, looking down over the mists surrounding the Core; and in all that universe of air the only sign of humanity was the Raft, a scrap of metal suspended in miles of air.
There was a heavy hand on his shoulder. Rees started. Pallis stood over him, the canopy of smoke a backdrop to his stern face. "What's the matter?" he growled. "Never seen a few thousand trees before?"
Rees felt himself flush. "I…"
But Pallis was grinning through his scars. "Listen, I understand. Most people take it all for granted. But every time I see it from outside — it gives me a kind of tingle." A hundred questions tumbled through Rees's mind. What would it be like to walk on that surface? What must it have been like to build the Raft, hanging in the void above the Core?
But now wasn't the time; there was work to do. He got to his feet, wrapping his toes in the foliage like a regular woodsman.
"Now, then, miner," Pallis said, "we've got a tree to fly. We have to drop back into that forest. Let's get the bowls brimming; I want a canopy up there so thick I could walk about on it. All right?"
At last Pallis seemed satisfied with the tree's position over the Raft. "All right, lads. Now!"
Gover and Rees ran among the fire bowls, shoving handfuls of damp wood into the flames. Smoke rolled up to the canopy above them. Gover coughed as he worked, swearing; Rees found his eyes streaming, the sooty smoke scouring his throat.
The tree lurched beneath them, almost throwing Rees into the foliage, and began to fall clear of its canopy of smoke. Rees scanned the sky: the falling stars wheeled by noticeably slower than before; he guessed that the tree had lost a good third of its rotation in its attempt to escape smoke's darkness.
Pallis ran to the trunk and uncoiled a length of cable. He thrust his neck and shoulders down through the foliage and began to pay out the cable; Rees could see how he worked the cable to avoid snagging it on other trees.
At last the tree was sliding through the outer layers of the forest. Rees peered across at the trees they passed, each slowly turning and straining with dignity against its tether. Here and there he made out men and women crawling through the foliage; they waved to Pallis and called in distant voices.
As it entered the gloom of the forest Rees sensed the tree's uncertainty. Its leaves turned this way and that as it tried to assess the irregular patterns of light playing over it. At last it came to a slow, grand decision, and its turning accelerated; with a smooth surge it rose by a few yards—
— and came to an abrupt halt. The cable attached to its trunk was taut now; it quivered and bowed through the air as it hauled at the tree. Rees followed the line of the cable; as he had expected its far end had reached the deck of the Raft, and two men were fixing it firmly to one of the waist-high pyramids.
He got to his knees and touched the familiar wood. Sap rushed through the shaped branch, making its surface vibrate like skin; Rees could sense the tree's agitation as it strove to escape this trap, and he felt an odd sympathy pull at his stomach.
Pallis made some final tests of the cable and then walked briskly around the wooden platform, checking that all the glowing bowls had been doused. At last he returned to the trunk and pulled a bundle of paperwork from a cavity in the wood. He crouched down and slipped through the foliage with a quiet rustle — and then popped his head back through. He peered around until he spotted Rees. "Aren't you coming, lad? Not much point staying here, you know. This old girl won't be going anywhere for a good few shifts. Well, come on; don't keep Gover from his food."
Hesitantly Rees made his way to the trunk. Pallis dropped through first. When he'd gone Gover hissed: "You're a long way from home, mine rat. Just remember — nothing here is yours. Nothing." And the apprentice slipped into the screen of leaves.
Heart thumping, Rees followed.
Like three water drops they slid down their cable through the scented gloom of the forest.
Rees worked his way hand over hand down the thin cable. At first the going was easy, but gradually a diffuse gravity field began to tug at his feet. Pallis and Gover waited at the base of the cable, peering up at him; he swung through the last few feet, avoiding the sloping sides of the anchor cone, and landed lightly on the deck.
A man walked up bearing a battered clip pad. The man was huge, his black hair and beard barely concealing a mask of scars more livid than Pallis's. A fine black braid was attached to the shoulder of his coverall. He scowled at Rees; the boy flinched at the power of the man's gaze. "You're welcome back, Pallis," the man said, his voice grim. "Although I can see from here you've brought back half your stock."
"Not quite, Decker," said Pallis coolly, handing over his paperwork. The two men moved into a huddle and went through Pallis's lists. Gover scuffed impatiently at the deck, wiping his nose against the back of his hand.
And Rees, wide-eyed, stared.
The deck beneath his feet swept through a network of cables away into a distance he could barely comprehend. He could see buildings and people set out in great swathes of life and activity; his head seemed to spin with the scale of it all, and he almost wished he were back in the comforting confines of the Belt.
He shook his head, trying to dispel his dizziness. He concentrated on immediate things: the easy pull of gravity, the gleaming surface beneath his feet. He tapped experimentally at the deck. It made a small ringing noise.
"Take it easy," Pallis growled. The big tree-pilot had finished his business and was standing before him. "The plate's only a millimeter thick, on average. Although it's buttressed for strength."
Rees flexed his feet and jumped a few inches into the air, feeling the pull as he settled gently back. "That feels like half a gee."
Pallis nodded. "Closer to forty per cent. We're in the gravity well of the Raft itself. Obviously the Nebula Core is also pulling at us — but that's tiny; and in any event we couldn't feel it because the Raft is in orbit around the Core." He tilted his face up at the flying forest. "Most people think the trees are there to keep the Raft from falling into the Core, you know. But their function is to stabilize the Raft — to keep it from tipping over — and to counteract the effects of winds, and to let us move the Raft when we have to…" Pallis bent and peered into Rees's face, his scars a crimson net. "Are you OK? You look a little dizzy."