Gavving still hadn't learned to shave without cutting himself. It was not his choice. All copsiks shaved. He had seen no man wearing a beard in London Tree, save one; and that one was Patry, a Navy officer. "Horse, is that why they make us shave? So the gentled ones won't be quite so obvious?"
"I never thought of that. Maybe."
"Horse…you must actually have seen the tree move."
Horse's laughter brought a supervisor's head around. He lowered his voice. "Did you think it was just a story? We move the tree about once a year! I've been on water details too, to feed the carm."
"What's it like?"
"It's like the tide goes slantwise. Going to the treemouth is like climbing a hill. You don't want any hunting parties out when it happens, and you have to tilt the cookpot. The whole trunk of the tree bendsalittle…"
"Lawri," said the Grad, "trouble."
Lawri glanced back. The pond clung to the bark, a flattened heinisphere. The Grad had run the hose into the water. Now the water was flowing up the outside of the hose, forming a collar.
"Don't worry about it. Just get to the bicycle and pedal," Lawri told him. "And don't call me that."
The Grad strapped himself to the saddle and started the pedals turning. The gears moved a pump. It was all starstufl metal, discolored with age. The collar of water shrank as water was sucked into the hose.
It was strange work for the Quinn Tuft Scientist, or for the London Tree Scientist's Apprentice, for that matter. Hadn't Kiance suggested that he would be better off than the standard run of copsiks? He wondered what Gavving was doing now. Probably worrying about his new andalienwife…andwithreason.
Water spurted from the hose as Lawri carried it into the carm. The Grad couldn't see what she was doing in there. He pedaled.
In Klance's presence the Grad was Lawri's equal. Otherwise Lawri treated him as a copsik, a spy, or both. He was clean, fed, and clothed.
Of the rest of Quinn Tribe he had not even rumors. He and Lawri and the Scientist explored the cassettes together for old knowledge, and that was fascinating enough. But he was learning nothing that would rescue Quinn Tribe.
It was night. Both Voy and the sun were hidden behind the in tuft. In the peculiar light that remained, two faint streamers of blue light fanned out from the tuft. If he stared at them they went away. He could catch them by looking near them. He could almost imagine human shapes pouring as smoke from a squeezegourd. To starboard, the Blue Ghost. To port, even fainter, the Ghost Child.
The Scientist (the Scientist) had told him that they were discharges of peculiar energies from the poles of Voy itself. The Scientist had seen them when he was younger, but the Grad had never been able to see them, not even from the midpoint of Dalton-Quinn Tree.
He was sweating. He watched the elevator climb the tree to its housing. A Navy man and two copsiks emerged. None were jungle giants; he had never seen a first-generation copsik at the Citadel, barring himself. They entered the Scientist's laboratory complex and presently left carrying the dishes from brunch.
Lawri called from the carm. "The tank's full."
The Grad moved with a briskness he didn't feel, unfastening the belt, jerking the hose free of the pond. There were lineholds, wooden hoops, set in the bark to crisscross the citadel region. The Grad used them to make his way toward the carm, calling ahead of him, "Can I help?"
"Just coil the hose," Lawri answered.
She hadn't yet let him into the carm during this operation. The hose must lead, somehow, into a water tank in the carm. They filled it repeatedly, and a couple of days later they would fill it again.
The Grad coiled the hose as he moved toward the carm. He heard cursing from within. Then Lawri called, "I can't move this damn fitting."
The Grad joined her at the doors. "Show me." That easy?
She showed him. The hose attached to a thing on the back wall, with a collar. "It has to be turned. That way." She rotated her hands.
He set his feet, grasped the metal thing, put his back into it. The collar lurched. Again. He turned it until it was loose in his hands, and kept turning. The hose came loose. A mouthful of water spilled out. Lawri nodded and turned away.
"Scientist's Apprentice? Where does the water go?"
"It's taken apart," she said. "The skin of the carm picks up sunlight and pumps the energy into the water. The water cOmes apart. Oxygen goes in one tank and hydrogen goes in the other. When they come together in the motors, the energy comes back and you get a flame."
He was trying to imagine water coming apart, when Lawri asked,
"Why did you want to know?"
"I was a Scientist. Why did you tell me?"
She sent herself skimming across the seats and settled herself at the controls. The Grad moored the coiled hose to fixtures in the cargo area.
The tank must be behind the wall. The carm had been nearly out of fuel…which came in two "flavors"? There must be fuel by now; the artificial pond was visibly shrunken.
Lawri tapped the blue button as he came up behind hen. The display she'd been studying disappeared before he could see it. The Grad had half forgotten his question when she turned to him and said, "The Scientist quizzes me like that. Since I was ten. If I can't answer I get some dirty job. But I don't like having my buttons pushed, Jeffer, and that information is classified!"
"Scientist's Apprentice, who is it that calls you Lawri?"
"Not you, copsik."
"I know that."
"The Scientist. My parents."
"I don't know anything about marriage customs here." "Copsiks don't get married."
"You're not a copsik. Would your husband call you Lawri?"
The airlock thumped, and Lawri turned in some relief. "Kiance?" "Yes. Put that display on again, will you, Lawri?"
She looked at the Grad, then back at Klance.
"Now," said the Scientist. Lawri obeyed. She'd made her point: she'd show scientific secrets to a copsik, but only under protest. Dominance games again. If she really cared, she would have removed the hose herself.
Theblueightsandnumbershadtodowithwhatmovedthecarm, as green governed the carm's sensing instruments and yellow moved the doors and white read the cassettes…and more. He was sure that they all did more than he knew. And red? He'd never seen red.
Every time he saw this display, certain numbers were larger. Now they read 02: 1,664. H2: 3,181. Klance was nodding in approval. "Ready to go any time. Still, I think we'll feed in the rest of the reservoir. Jeffer, come here." He cut the blue display and activated the yellow. "This number tells you if there's a storm coming, if you watch it."
"What is it?"
"It's the external air pressure."
"Can't you see a storm coming?"
"Coming, yes. Forming, no. If the pressure goes up or down fast, over a day or so, there's a storm forming. Lets you impress hell out of the citizens. This is classified, of course."
The Grad asked, "Where does the tree go from here?"
"Out of this rain. Then on to Brighton Tree; they haven't seen us in a while. Grad, you'll get a good chance to look the bud colonies over and pick and choose among them."
"For what, Kiance?"
"For your children, of course."
The Grad laughed. "Klance, how am I going to have children if I spend my life at the Citadel?"
"Don't you know about the Holidays?"
"I never heard of them."
"Well, every year's-end, when Voy crosses in front of the sun, the copsiks all get together at the treemouth. It's holiday for six days while the copsiks mate and gossip and play games. Even the food comes from the out tuft. The Holidays start in thirty-five days."