City At The End Of Time by Greg Bear Page B

began to heal itself.
    “This is our last crop,” he said. “It’s these breeds, or nothing.”

    CHAPTER 8
    First Isle
    “Do you think I’d tell a glow your secrets?” Khren asked, and from his shocked expression, Jebrassy instantly knew his friend’s guilt.
    They both lounged as casually as their present mood allowed in Khren’s niche, surrounded by colorful and meaningless prizes from the skirmish—captured pennants, two padded but heavy stravies, marked with curling leaves on which were scratched wishes for luck and strength—and a magnificent jug of tork that Khren had won in a bet on the nauvarchia.
    “What else did you blab?” Jebrassy asked. He and Khren had known each other since being delivered by the umbers, fresh out of the crèche.
    “She was curious. She asked questions. I answered. She has her ways, you know that.”
    Jebrassy narrowed his eyes and smiled. “You fancy her?”
    Khren lay back and gazed at the ceiling, irritated that this pairing might be thought unlikely. “Of course not. I’ve got my eye on another.”
    Jebrassy had yet to meet this other, or even hear her name.
    “If she were anything to me,” Khren said, “I would have told her a youth march is nonsense and dangerous besides. It’s already got you disinherited.”
    “What could I ever inherit here ?” Jebrassy asked.
    “There’s nothing wrong with here ,” Khren said. “We made out pretty well in the skirmish. Why fight if there’s nothing to fight for ? And it looks like you attracted the attentions of a fine glow—by showing off your muscles and dealing a few good thwacks. All very intellectual and rebellious, I’m sure.”
    “We have no protection against anything the Tall Ones want to do to us. We’re toys, nothing more”
    “I prefer to think of us as experiments ,” Khren said, and then shrugged, having brushed up against the zenith of his philosophical abilities.
    “What’s the difference?”
    “Ancient breed, ancient quality. If we’re experiments, we’ll exceed all the others, and they’ll reward us for our courage by liberating the Tiers. Then, we can go anywhere we like—even the Chaos, if that’s worth a visit. And nobody knows if it is.”
    “It is,” Jebrassy said. “I’m sure of it. I’ve got my sources…”
    Khren lifted his small ears, showing mild amusement. “So learned.”
    “Well, I do.” Jebrassy had worked his way around to the second point of contention. “Why did you have to tell her about my straying?”
    “I didn’t volunteer. She asked—as if she knew already. She’s very persuasive.” His voice fell off and he gave Jebrassy as lewd and suggestive a glance as his broad, chiseled face allowed.
    “Unlike me, she still has sponsors,” Jebrassy said. “I doubt she’ll talk with either of us again.”
    “Ah.” Khren got up and poured himself another tumbler, then flumped back into the cushions—without spilling a drop—and examined the color of his drink in the warm light of the ceiling.
    “I don’t need a partner,” Jebrassy said. “I need to get out of here and see how things really are, beyond the gates.”
    “You haven’t seen the gates,” Khren said. “You can’t even describe them—all that out there is just empty words and names. Even if you believe the stories, nobody’s ever gotten that far and come back to tell, and that says something.”
    “What?” Jebrassy said. “If we shame the wardens, and they tattle to the officers, those who escape the Tiers but get caught are handed over to the Bleak Warden? Or put in cages for the Tall Ones to enjoy?”
    “That sounds pretty cruel even for Tall Ones,” Khren said.
    “I hate being ignorant! I want to see things, new things. I hate being taken care of .”
    With this outburst, the air between them settled a little and Khren returned to his accustomed role—of being a sounding board. In truth, Khren found Jebrassy’s plans intriguing—he regarded them with a fascinated mock horror, as