“Yes, sir.”

“You are making this journey for one main reason. You must see that the women we entrust to you arrive safely at their village. When that has been done, you return to the city without delay.”

Helward was occupied with mental calculations. He knew how long it took him to walk a mile… just a few minutes. On a full day’s march in hot weather he could hope to cover at least twelve miles; with the women to slow him up, half that. Six miles a day, and that took seven days for the outward trip, three or four days for the return. At best, he could be back at the city within ten days… or one mile, as the city measured elapsed time. Suddenly he wondered why he had been told that he could not be back in time for the birth of his child. What had Clausewitz said the other day? That he would be gone ten or fifteen miles… perhaps even as long as a hundred? It didn’t make sense.

“You’ll need some way of measuring distance, so that you’ll know when you’re in the region of the settlement. Between the city and the settlement there are thirty-four old sites of our stay-emplacements. They’re marked on this plan as straight lines across the tracks. You shouldn’t have much difficulty in locating them; although the tracks are built over the sites after they’ve been used, they leave quite distinct marks in the ground. Keep to the left outer track. That is, as you walk southwards, the one furthest to the right. It is on this side of the track that the settlement is situated.”

“Surely the women will recognize the area where they used to live?” said Helward.

“That’s correct. Now… the equipment you will need. It’s all here, and I suggest you take it all. Don’t think you can dispense with any of it, because we know what we’re doing. Is that clear?”

Once again Helward confirmed that he understood. With Clausewitz he went through the equipment. One pack contained nothing but dehydrated synthetic food and two large canteens of water. The other pack contained a tent and four sleeping-bags. In addition, there was a length of stout rope, grappling irons, a pair of metal-studded boots… and a folded crossbow.

“Are there any questions, Helward?”

“I don’t think so, sir.”

“You’re quite sure?”

Helward looked again at the pile of equipment. It was going to be a devil of a weight to carry, unless he could share some of it with the women, and the sight of all that dried food had set his stomach lurching…

“Could I not live off the land, sir?” he said. “I find the synthetic food rather tasteless.”

“I would advise you to eat nothing that is not in these packs. You can supplement your water-ration if you have to, but make sure the source is running water. If you eat anything that grows locally once you’re out of sight of the city, it will probably make you ill. If you don’t believe me you can try. I did, when I was down past, and I was sick for two days. This isn’t vague theory I’m giving you, it’s advice based on hard experience.”

“But we eat local foods in the city.”

“And the city is near optimum. You’re going a long way south of optimum.”

“That changes the food, sir?”

“Yes. Is there anything else?”

“No, sir.”

“Good. Then there’s someone who would like to see you before you go.”

He gestured towards an inner door, and Helward walked over to it. Beyond it was a smaller room, and here his father was waiting for him.

Helward’s first reaction was surprise, immediately followed by one of incredulity. He had seen his father last not more than ten days ago as the man was riding north; now, in that short period, it seemed to Helward that his father had aged suddenly and horribly. As he walked in his father stood up, balancing himself with an unsteady hand on the seat of his chair. He turned painfully, and faced Helward. His whole manner was marked with advanced age: he stood hunched, his clothes hung on him badly and the hand that came forward was trembling.

“Helward! How are you, son?”

The manner had changed too. There was no trace of the diffidence to which Helward had grown so accustomed.

“Father… how are you?”

“I’m fine, son. I’ve got to be taking it easy now, the doctor says. I’ve been north once too often.” He sat down again, and instinctively Helward stepped forward and helped him into his seat. “They tell me you’re going down past. Is that right?”

“Yes, father.”

“You be careful, son. There’s a lot down there will give you thought. Not like up future… that’s my place.”

Clausewitz had followed Helward, and was now standing in the doorway.

“Helward, you ought to know that your father has been given an injection.”

Helward turned away from his father.

“What do you mean?” he said.

“He came back to the city last night, complaining of chest pains. It’s been diagnosed as angina, and he’s been given a painkiller. He ought to be in bed.”

“O.K. I shan’t be long.”

Helward knelt on the floor beside the chair.

“Do you feel all right now, father?” he said.

“I told you… I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. How’s Victoria?”

“She’s getting on fine.”

“Good girl, Victoria.”

“I’ll tell her to visit you,” said Helward. It was a terrible thing to see his father in this condition. He had no idea that his father was growing so old… but he had not looked like this a few days ago. What had happened to him in the meantime? They talked for a few more minutes, but soon his father’s attention began to wander. Eventually, he closed his eyes and Helward stood up.

“I’ll get one of the medics,” said Clausewitz, and hurried out of the room. When he returned a few minutes later there were two of the medical administrators with him. Gently, they picked the old man up and carried him out to the corridor, where a wheeled trolley draped in white was waiting.

“Will he be all right?” said Helward.

“He’s being looked after, that’s all I can say.”

“He looks so old,” said Helward, unthinkingly. Clausewitz himself was in advanced years, though in demonstrably better health than his father.

“An occupational hazard,” said Clausewitz.

Helward glanced at him sharply, but there was no further information forthcoming. Clausewitz picked up the metal-studded boots, and pushed them towards Helward.

“Here… try these on,” he said.

“My father… will you ask Victoria to visit him?”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll deal with it.”

4

Helward rode in the elevator to the second level, the packs and equipment loaded in beside him. When the car stopped he keyed the door-hold button, and went along to the room to which Clausewitz had directed him. Here, four women and a man were waiting for him. As soon as he entered the room, Helward realized that only the man and one of the women were city administrators.

He was introduced to the other three, but they glanced at him briefly and looked away. Their expressions revealed a suppressed hostility, deadened by an indifference that until that moment Helward himself had felt. Until entering the room he had given no thought as to who the women might be, nor even had he speculated about their appearance. In fact, he recognized none of them, but hearing Clausewitz speak of them Helward had associated them in his mind with the women he had seen in the settlements while riding north with Barter Collings. Those women had been in general thin and pallid, their eyes deep-sunk over prominent cheekbones, their arms scrawny, and their chests flat. Dressed more often than not in ragged, filthy clothes, flies crawling over their faces, the women of the villages outside were pitiful wretches.

These three had none of these characteristics. They wore neat, well-fitting city clothes, their hair was clean and well cut, their flesh was round and full, and their eyes were clear. To his barely concealed surprise Helward saw that they were very young indeed: scarcely older than himself. The people of the city spoke of the women who were bartered from outside as if they were mature… but these were nothing more than girls.