She and Seldom ate half of theirs, giving the remnants to Diamond.
People stopped working, watching the sudden feast. By the time Diamond licked up every crumb, Nissim was emerging from the cold room. He wasn’t wearing any uniform. Somebody made noise about tutoring, and he nodded and smiled, remarking, “These kids are going tutor me today. The meat’s all cut. I’m sure you can survive without me.” Then noticing the stares, he asked, “What’s wrong?”
“That poor starving boy,” said the woman, describing what she just witnessed.
Nissim put a hand on Diamond’s forehead. “Are you always the big eater?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I usually eat alone.”
Nissim kneeled, placing his eyes directly before the boy’s eyes. “Do your parents ever talk about the world outside?”
He shook his head.
“Did they tell you about the trees and canopy and the sun?”
“Sometimes we talk about Marduk.”
“Have they shown you paintings of the world?”
“No. Just of the Creators.”
“Who nobody has ever seen.” Nissim smiled. “Do you know the world’s shape?”
“I . . . I don’t know . . . ”
The Master nodded, ready to say something else. Important words waited in his mouth, and he did everything but say them. But in the end he stood and shook his head, leading them out of the kitchen. Then with a stern, irresistible voice, he told the other two children, “I want you to be quiet. I want to talk Diamond, and you can’t make a sound. Please.
“And I mean you, Seldom.”
The boy rolled his eyes, trying to laugh.
They walked through the same doorway leading to the outdoors, back into the bright open air. Several little blimps were wandering past, and birds sang, and a pair of leatherwings fought in the air, snarling and spitting as they decided who was biggest and strongest.
Nissim said, “Stop.”
The school was below them. Teachers were talking with loud voices and students were making lots of little noises, competing to be noticed.
“We’re going to visit our District headquarters,” Nissim explained. “They’ll know your father’s whereabouts, and we’ll find him before long. Does that seem reasonable to you?”
Diamond nodded hopefully.
“But first,” said the Master, kneeling again. “I want you to tell me something. If you don’t know the answer, guess. Whatever idea pops into your head, I want to hear it.”
Diamond nodded.
Seldom and Elata stood back, watching.
Nissim put up the hand with the short finger, reminding the others to be silent. “Where is the sun?” he asked.
“Pardon me?”
“The sun,” he repeated. Then with a patient wide smile, he said, “Point to the sun, my boy. Right now.”
Diamond straightened his index finger and pointed up.
Seldom laughed, and Elata struck his bony shoulder, saying, “Stop that, stop.”
The Master was nodding. Emotions played across his plain face while both hands started to shake, and he took one deep breath that wasn’t enough. So he took several more breaths and then stood again. One trembling hand wiped one eye and then the other. Then speaking to nobody but himself, he said, “I have read about this.”
“What do you mean?” Elata asked.
“About people like Diamond?” asked Seldom.
But the man wouldn’t answer. He took another long breath, and then with a serious sorry voice, he told the lost boy, “No, Diamond. No. The sun is and has always been beneath our feet.”
SEVEN
The sun was beneath them, and why would it be anywhere else? Nobody had come to his room and pointed at the ceiling, telling him, “The day comes from above, my boy. The sun sits over our heads.” And he had no reason to doubt what he was told just now. Yet Diamond shook his head skeptically, making Seldom laugh again. Squinting, he gave his toes a long skeptical stare, and Elata took hold of his elbow, saying, “You had no way to know. But now you do.”
Except what did he know?
Very, very little, it seemed.
Without sharing his thoughts, Nissim walked on.
Still fighting, the leatherwings screeched and flapped hard and then pulled apart for a moment, gathering violence for the next collision. Teeth cut, insults battered. Then one animal shrieked and turned and flew away, fur and bright blood following it as the winner triumphantly took claim over the bright air beside the school.
Students, mostly boys, cheered from their classrooms.
The Master was climbing a long set of stairs, and the three of them hurried to catch up.
“Where are we going?” Seldom asked.
“Special occasions demand luxury,” Nissim explained.
“We’re riding,” said Elata with a grin.
No, they were walking. The stairs were wide, room enough for three students to walk together without brushing elbows.
Seldom poked his new friend. “What about the rain?” he asked.
Diamond pretended not to hear him.
But the boy persisted. “Where do you think rain comes from? Above or below?”
Nissim looked back as he climbed, interested in the answer.
“I don’t know,” Diamond said. But one finger insisted on pointing up.
Seldom giggled.
Elata punched his shoulder again.
“It’s a fair question,” Seldom moaned.
Then with two fingers, Elata jabbed him in the ribs.
Nissim had stopped climbing. He looked at the mysterious boy, and then his eyes were pulled away. Quietly, with a curious tone, he said, “I wonder what the police are doing here.”
A large black blimp had risen into view, maneuvering to dock with the school.
“They’re chasing my brother,” Seldom guessed.
Nissim opened his mouth and breathed deeply. “That seems like an extraordinary number of officers to chase one boy.”
Then he turned and started climbing again.
“Let’s hurry,” said the man’s big voice, on arm pulling at the railing. “We don’t want to miss the next part of our day.”
A narrow landing reached far out into the air. Several adults were standing at the end, waiting beside a tall pole. Flags wearing assorted emblems were flapping on the pole. A white sock stuck out sideways, and as the winds shifted, it collapsed and then pointed in a fresh direction.
The four of them walked out on the landing, out where it began to wobble under Diamond’s feet, and he stopped and grabbed the railing, waiting for the pitching to stop.
The motions only grew worse.
Reaching deep into a pocket, Nissim retrieved square coins of glass and polished coral. A stubby silver blimp was falling towards them, one flag dangling from the mooring post jutting out from its bow. “There’s some luck,” the Master said. “Our ride arrives.”
The other people stared at the odd boy until he looked at them, and then everyone watched the blimp. The machine seemed small until it was close, and then Diamond felt tiny. The cockpit was just below the long mooring post. A long window was propped open, the wild-haired pilot watching everything. Big propellers roared and slowed and then roared again, pushing the blimp close. The blimp’s mooring post ended with mechanical fingers, and there was a stout iron ring clamped to the end of the landing, waiting to be grabbed. The fingers reached the ring, but the wind gusted unexpectedly, and with a bright useless clank they closed on empty air. The gigantic machine had to back away slowly before trying again, helped along by the pilot’s fierce cursing. This time the fingers grabbed the loop and the blimp rose over them. Its mooring post was like an arm bending like an elbow, and once the post was vertical, its base locked in place, allowing the blimp to turn in the wind without endangering itself or the people on the landing.
A flexible gangway was released from the belly, and out ran a pair of red monkeys. Big and powerful, the beasts jumped into the air with ropes fixed in their mouths, long falls ending when the hand-like feet grabbed hold of iron grommets. Then they dragged the gangway into position and started to tie it down, still making knots as the travelers put themselves in a line.