I was unable to hide my pleasure. Pamila returned my smile, and I felt the gentle pressure of Caril’s fingers on my shoulders in surreptitious acknowledgement of my success.
“Furthermore,” Robert continued, “the quality of your studies so impressed your tutors that they submitted your reports to the Institute of Higher Education in Helixport. The Institute has since confirmed that your studies have reached an acceptable level for admission to their preliminary course currently in progress. Should you wish to attend the Institute and should you then execute your studies to the satisfaction of your lecturers, you will be given the opportunity to enrol in a more advanced course of study lasting three seasons and ultimately leading to a Certificate in Advanced Studies in the subject of your choosing.”
I was dumbfounded. Each season the Institute accepted no more than twenty students from the High Valleys, and it was sixteen seasons since Silver Spring had last provided a candidate.
I looked at Pamila, who was one of my tutors and who had attended the Institute herself perhaps fifty seasons before. Had she arranged for my work to be forwarded to the Institute? Her smile told me that she had had some part in it.
“Do you understand what I am saying?” Robert asked. “The Institute is prepared to offer you a scholarship.”
Still I sat mute. It was inconceivable. I had always been aware of my aptitude for schoolwork, but I had never imagined that I was capable of producing work of sufficient quality to interest the foremost educational establishment in Gaia.
“Are you prepared to accept the offer, or do you wish to consider it for a day or so?”
“No. I mean, yes. I accept.”
The rest of that day remains in my memory only as an after-image following a sudden flash of blinding light. I dined with the elders, a sumptuous meal of roast chicken, vegetables and sweetcorn, followed by a melange of cheese, red peppers and soya beans, then a fruit salad drenched in honey, and finally sweetmeats and minted ice confection to finish. I was sated. The elder Arthor suffered from a digestive imbalance and his stomach rumbled vociferously throughout the meal, although he insisted on sampling each course. His discomfort was the subject of some levity amongst the elders, and for the first time I saw them as ordinary human beings rather than remote, imposing figureheads.
Later, when the effects of the meal had subsided somewhat, I was taken to the surgery, subjected to a rigorous physical examination, then left alone in a tiny room furnished only with a bed. A senior girl from a neighbouring commune came to me and we spent several hours together while she instructed me in the an of lovemaking. This, my first exploration of the secrets of the female body, was an event I had long anticipated, and yet it seemed merely a postscript to a far greater revelation: I was going to the city to live!
Afterwards I returned to the hall and was presented with my majority card, a hand-sized rectangle of plastic similar to that which had announced my impending ceremony, only pale green and filled with encoded information. The cards, though seldom used, contained the necessary legal proof of one’s status.
“You have been presented with a rare and special opportunity to further yourself,” Robert told me, “At the Institute you will receive the finest education which Gaia can offer. Do not let this chance slip by. Embrace what knowledge and experiences you can. Reflect on them and learn from them so that when you attain full adulthood you will be ready to use your skills for the benefit of others.”
The other elders filed out from behind the table and I passed along their ranks, engaging each of them in the archaic handshaking ritual of our ancestors. Pamila, at the end of the line, gripped my hand with especial vigour and whispered: “You’ll do us credit.”
The day had passed swiftly. Leaving the hall, I saw that it would soon be sunset. Only the isolated worker was still abroad in the fields, and deep shadows were spreading down the valley. I found Annia and Jax at our favourite hide-out, a gaunt outcrop of white rock overlooking the Communications Centre. They were tossing stones on to the corrugated roof and ducking from sight whenever Lenard, the radio officer, emerged from the building. I squatted beside them, breathless after my climb, and they assailed me with questions. I told them everything of my ceremony, reserving the news of my scholarship to the Institute until last.
“Apparently I did well in class,” I said, unsure of whether to sound pleased or solemn. “My work was forwarded to the Institute and they have offered me a place. I’ve accepted.”
For a moment there was silence. Then Annia grinned widely and said: “David, that’s marvellous!” She sprang forward and hugged me.
“I’ll be sorry to leave you both,”I said.
“You have to go.” She squeezed my arms. “Just think of it. A chance to live in the city. When do you leave?”
“In five days’ time. I have until the end of Summer to prove my worth. If I succeed, I’ll be able to enrol for three more seasons to obtain my Certificate.”
“I always knew you were a genius,” Jax said, tossing a handful of gravel into my lap.
“Hey,” I protested, rising to brush the dusty rubble from my hitherto unsoiled shorts. Jax flicked a stone over my head and I heard it skitter on the roof below. Lenard darted out of the building and caught sight of me. He raised his fist and began to ascend the incline.
“He’s coming!” I cried, and with a mixture of laughter and panic we scurried off up the slope.
Since I had only five days left at the commune, I had assumed that I would be allowed to stay in junior dorm until I left for the Institute. The following morning, however, I awoke to find that most of my personal effects had,already been transferred to senior dorm. I remonstrated with Caril, pleading with her to be allowed to stay amongst my friends. Caril was sympathetic but powerless; she had anticipated my complaints, but had been unable to obtain the necessary permission for the move to be cancelled.
“Tradition takes no account of the individual,” she told me sadly. “You must grin and bear it.”
After breakfast I was taken to senior dorm and introduced to the warden, Uri.
Uri was a cheerful, effusive man who glibly ignored my sullenness with a ceaseless stream of chatter as he led me around the dorm. The only obvious difference between senior and junior dorm was the partitions between the beds in the sleeping quarters—a concession to privacy which the seniors, free to indulge in sexual gratification, doubtless welcomed. At my own request I was assigned a bed at the end of the dorm, rather than in the middle, as was the normal practice with newcomers. Although I was acquainted with most of the senior youth, I knew none closely, and I saw no point in attempting to cultivate friendships in the short time which remained to me.
I saw little of my dorm-mates in any case. I was excused from further work in the fields to concentrate on my studies. During the next four days I spent over fifty hours in the dim, sequestered library of the schoolhouse, attended at different times by all six of the school’s tutors.
My lessons focused predominantly on aspects of city life, an area of study which had received scant attention in normal classes. I learned of civil ordinance and administration, of the judicial and executive functions of city law, of commerce, of the rights of the citizen, of modes of taxation, of traffic regulations—the list was endless. It was all, I felt, unnecessary. Surely, I protested, I will discover all this when I am living in Helixport. But my tutors were resolute; I think they wanted to ensure that I had a good grounding in urban affairs before I departed so that I would not appear naive to the Institute authorities. Each evening I would emerge from the library like a drunkard from a saloon, my head reeling with a welter of ill-digested information. I would then rendezvous with Annia and Jax at our hiding-place.
With my departure imminent, we had abandoned our traditional pursuits of chasing rock-burrowers or aggravating Lenard; we simply sat and talked. I cannot remember what we discussed, although I suspect that we indulged ourselves In those rambling, quasi-philosophical reflections which are often
the propensity of youth. When the sleep bell finally tolled and we departed reluctantly for our dorms, I remember feeling a vague sense of dissatisfaction, as if I was not making the most of the time I had left with them. At night, a female or two would come to my bedside, but I turned them all away; too much else was occupying my mind.
A proctor from the Institute arrived late at night on the fourth day and I was roused from bed a good two hours before dawn the following morning and introduced to him. His name was Rayner and he was a tall, gaunt man of middle age who spoke little and wore a dour expression.
My tutors scurried to and fro, proudly showing him the schoolhouse, while the elders gathered for an early breakfast. The meal was lavish, in keeping with the established custom of culinary hospitality towards strangers, but our guest was not happy to be the focal point of the celebrations. Although he asked me several general questions about my lessons, he did not seem particularly interested either in the commune or in his prospective student. Strangely enough, I found his impassive manner somewhat comforting; it made the pressure of the occasion easier to bear.
At dawn we stood on the edge of the landing strip, buffeted by waves of air from the descending shuttle. Six elders were present, in addition to Caril and Erik, and Annia and Jax. My stomach was a knot of trepidation as each of the adults embraced me and gave me their good wishes.
Then Jax gripped me by the arm and said gruffly: “Good luck. I wish I was going with you.”
He turned and strode off before I could reply, taking the pathway back towards the dorm. Over a cycle would pass before I was to see him again, and under circumstances beyond my wildest imaginings.
Annia approached, carrying a package. She handed it to me, kissed me on both cheeks, and whispered: “We’ll visit you.”
I said nothing; I could not move. Finally Rayner took my arm and led me towards the shuttle. We walked up the ramp and as we entered the craft the door slid shut behind us with a resounding thud.
Chapter Three
The Institute was a much larger complex than I had envisaged. It lay in the northern suburbs amongst the sprawling estates of the middle-income workers, the main administrative building a pyramidal structure built of yellow sandstone and glass. A maze of classrooms, lecture theatres and laboratories surrounded it, all interconnected by covered walkways. The campus boasted wide stretches of well-watered grass interspersed with shrubs and rock-gardens. Outside the main building a large, black rhombohedron had been mounted on a plinth. It was so dark that it seemed to be sucking in light, a crystalline black hole. Intrigued, I asked Rayner what it was, but he merely replied: “An artifact.”
The proctor maintained a leisurely pace as he led me around the various departments, expounding at length on their history and function. Soon I was intolerably bored and was grateful when he finally took me to the students’ residence hall on the eastern side of the campus and showed me to my room.
The hall was a squat, cylindrical building, four storeys high, and I had been allocated a room on the third floor with a splendid view out over the campus. The room was surprisingly large, containing a desk, a data screen and cassette machine, a large bed, an oddly warped reclining chair, and—best of all—a private bathroom which made the toilet facilities of the commune look primitive.
Rayner gave me the door-key and said; “Dinner is at sixteen-thirty. I will call for you.”
Alone, I lay back on the bed and contemplated my surroundings. The entire building was air-conditioned and I luxuriated in the coolness. This was to be my new domain; a white, immaculate chamber, bathed in sunlight, yet sequestered from the outside world. It was in complete contrast to the noisy humidity of junior dorm, and I relished it.
After a while I went out on to the balcony. In the mellow light of evening, groups of students were lounging on the grass, and a gardener attended the flowerbeds in the shadow of the black crystal. Beyond, a thread of smoke drifted lazily into the air from the chimney of one of the laboratories. The whole scene had a tranquil, idyllic quality, a sense of ample time for the accomplishment of objectives, and suddenly I felt very happy. Here was the opportunity to give my life a new direction, at my own pace and to my own design.
I took a long shower, standing under the cold water until my skin was numb, then vigorously towelling myself down until it glowed. I lay back in the reclining chair, but I could find no position of comfort in its warped contours so I abandoned it for the desk chair. Later, I unpacked and mounted my telescope on the desk. Although it was not ideally suited to terrestrial observation, it still enabled me to conduct a fairly detailed visual examination of the neighbourhood. The main north-south highway ran past the entrance to the Institute, although the traffic on it was sparse. Later still, I sat down on the bed with Annia’s parting gift to me. It was the latest edition of the Star Atlas which I had borrowed from the library, and it was the first book to grace the empty shelves on the wall beside my desk.
The Institute dining-hall, which also doubled as a viewing theatre and conference room, was filled with people by the time Rayner and I arrived. The air was replete with the babble of voices; everyone sitting at the long tables seemed either to be expostulating at great length on some subject or studiously attentive to the argument while mentally framing a suitable reply.
Rayner led me to a table occupied by several youths the same age as myself. It transpired that they were also preliminary students who were hoping to gain full scholarships at the end of Summer, and they immediately put me at ease with their enthusiasm for the Institute. A girl named Wendi sat opposite me, small of stature, but intense and extroverted. She had a head of curly, jet-black hair, and the darkest eyes I had ever seen.
“You’re from the High Valleys,” she said.
“Yes.”
“Which commune?”
“Silver Spring. You’re from Helixport?”
“Not quite. The Plains, although my commune is less than ten kilometres from the outskirts of the city. It’s quite suburban.”
“How long have you been here?”
“Three months. You’ll like it.”
“I hope so. Is the work hard?”
“It shouldn’t be. After all, we’re supposed to be fledgling geniuses, aren’t we? Otherwise we wouldn’t be here.” She grinned. “What’s your subject?”
“My subject?”
“What do you want to study?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
“Mine’s medicine. I hope to become a doctor. Have you just passed majority?”
“Five days ago.”
“Were you a virgin? I made love several times before my ceremony.”
Embarrassed by her candour, I peered around the table, but no one seemed to be paying particular attention to our conversation.
“Tradition is strong at our commune,” I murmured. “You risk punishment if you break the rules.”
“I’ve always wanted to visit the High Valleys. Is it really much cooler up there in the mountains?”
“A little. Mostly at night.”
“Do you like mutton?”
“Yes. Why do you ask?”
“It’s on the menu tonight. I had a friend once who was allergic to any kind of sheep’s meat. She came out in a cold sweat and trembled a lot. Food allergies are quite interesting; they’re not very well understood. I’m lucky, I can eat practically anything.”
As if in emphasis, she scooped a large spoonful of chilled cucumber soup from the bowl in front of her and swallowed it whole.
“I’ve forgotten your name,” she said.
“David.”
“I used to know an old man called David. He travelled around the communes selling herbal remedies. Most of them were just coloured water or perfumed lard, but occasionally he’d come up with something that really worked. He gave me some ointment, once, for a sprain, and it cured it within hours. You have to keep an open mind in everything.” She pushed her unfinished soup-bowl aside and turned to the main course which ha
d just been set in front of us, “Do you believe in astrology?”
In this desultory fashion we continued our conversation as we ate. Rayner was called away on some errand before the meal was over, and when Wendi offered to give me an unofficial tour of the campus, I accepted gratefully. I had seen enough of the lugubrious proctor for one day.
As we wandered around the grounds in the fading light, I noticed that the black crystal was emitting a faint, pearly light. Wendi explained that it was some kind of M’threnni art-form which absorbed light during the day and re-emitted it at night. Dusk fell quickly, and the crystal glowed brighter, its ashen light casting a dolesome pall over the grass and flowerbeds. I found the crystal even more eerie and unsettling than Annia’s gasglobe. I felt that it had been put on display to satisfy some morbid fascination with the bizarre; it lent a wholly unwelcome strangeness to the arboured landscape.
Wendi showed me the tennis and basketball courts, the golf range, the swimming pool and the gymnasium—facilities which Rayner had not deemed worthy of inspection during my earlier tour. Although the Institute was academically orientated, it evidently did not neglect those of an athletic bent. Following this, she took me to the recreation room in the basement of the residence hall, a long, low-ceilinged chamber, dimly lit and sultry. A small bar sold a variety of drinks, and students sat at rounded tables playing board games (chess, backgammon, merels) or simply talking, Wendi was greeted by several youths, and even as I was being introduced, a glass of wine was being thrust into my hand.
It must have been four or five hours later before we emerged from The Cellar (as it was popularly known). I felt somewhat light-headed after numerous glasses of wine; all evening, drinks had been freely supplied to me by the other students.
“Did I pass the test?” I asked Wendi as we rode upwards in the elevator.
“You did all right. The last fresher was carried out unconscious.”
“You could have warned me.”
“That would have spoiled it. We have to find out what son of person you are.”
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