mother settling the two shocked children with the calm, soothing tones she uses with Corey but itâs the even quieter conversation that is taking place between her father and the other two adults that she is tuned in to.
Once they are all dry and warmed with soup, the children settled in a makeshift bed on Coreyâs bedroom floor, the four adults gather around the computer where the star of New Mungo still glows on the screen map. Coll tells his neighbors of Maraâs discovery and a glimmer of hope lights their stricken, desperate faces. They all sit by the old computer, staring at the star for a long time.
Rosemary shakes her head, biting her lip. âI just canât believe in it,â she says, âbut I know it might be our only hope.â
Coll reaches out and squeezes Maraâs hand.
âIf it is, if this New World really is an option, then we need to figure out how to get to itâbefore we run out of time.â
Much later, when everyone else has fallen into exhausted sleep, Mara lies wide awake, bonded to her cyberwizz,racing at the speed of light through its electronic universe. She rips across the strands of the Weave, rampaging through its rotting ruins, its junk mountains, and tumbledown towerstacks, frantically scrolling through the last messages on any news site she can find. Itâs almost dawn when she tears the halo from her eyes and flings the wand and globe on the floor, distraught.
She cannot believe it. How could she spend half her life in the Weave and never see the truth? How did she not see those awful cries for help that lie among the ruins and junk mountains of the Weave? She thought it was an adventure playground, thatâs all, and sheâs been so engrossed in her thrills and spills that she hasnât seen what should have stopped her in her tracks long, long ago.
The Weave is not a game or a picturesque ruin for her to play in. Itâs a lost world. A world of the dead. It hangs in cyberspace like an ancient cobweb, derelict, defunctâa ghost weave suspended between the old communication satellites that orbit a drowned Earth.
Itâs an electronic gravesite
.
The news sites have been dead for more than half a century. They all end in a horrifying SOSâthe last, frantic cry for help of a drowning worldâtrapped forever in the strands of the Weave.
How could I be so blind?
Mara is appalled. Itâs the same blindness Tain accuses the islanders of when, surrounded by a swallowing sea, they still refuse to see the evidence thatâs right in front of their eyes.
And now she remembers Granny Mary trying to explain something to her, years ago, when Mara first found the cyberwizz, a forgotten relic tucked away at the back of a cupboard. But Mara hadnât listened, too excited by her find, too eager to learn the secret language that wouldbring the cyberwizz to life. Now she knows what Granny must have been trying to tell herâthe Weave was dead.
But now she knows. Now she is looking at the world with eyes wide open. And she is almost sure that there is something out there. A New World, a haven above the seas. A future.
Mara picks up Tainâs carved box, a box he made in the time the island still had trees, for a girl who had a kind of greatness in her; a girl who was Maraâs living image. Mara opens the box and gazes into the mirror she has cracked and ruined. She canât see any signs of greatness in her own faceâjust the wide, scared eyes of a young girl who can hardly bear to think about what lies in front of her.
EARTH WINS
Summer 2100
Early next morning Mara is torn from sleep by the dull clang of Wingâs church bell. She rips back her bedclothes and rushes downstairs. Outside, the world is calm at last, the sea and sky a misty blue. But Mara stops in shock and stares around her.
All that remains of Wing is its central peak. The higher farms and the upper reaches of the village are safe but beyond that, as
Once they are all dry and warmed with soup, the children settled in a makeshift bed on Coreyâs bedroom floor, the four adults gather around the computer where the star of New Mungo still glows on the screen map. Coll tells his neighbors of Maraâs discovery and a glimmer of hope lights their stricken, desperate faces. They all sit by the old computer, staring at the star for a long time.
Rosemary shakes her head, biting her lip. âI just canât believe in it,â she says, âbut I know it might be our only hope.â
Coll reaches out and squeezes Maraâs hand.
âIf it is, if this New World really is an option, then we need to figure out how to get to itâbefore we run out of time.â
Much later, when everyone else has fallen into exhausted sleep, Mara lies wide awake, bonded to her cyberwizz,racing at the speed of light through its electronic universe. She rips across the strands of the Weave, rampaging through its rotting ruins, its junk mountains, and tumbledown towerstacks, frantically scrolling through the last messages on any news site she can find. Itâs almost dawn when she tears the halo from her eyes and flings the wand and globe on the floor, distraught.
She cannot believe it. How could she spend half her life in the Weave and never see the truth? How did she not see those awful cries for help that lie among the ruins and junk mountains of the Weave? She thought it was an adventure playground, thatâs all, and sheâs been so engrossed in her thrills and spills that she hasnât seen what should have stopped her in her tracks long, long ago.
The Weave is not a game or a picturesque ruin for her to play in. Itâs a lost world. A world of the dead. It hangs in cyberspace like an ancient cobweb, derelict, defunctâa ghost weave suspended between the old communication satellites that orbit a drowned Earth.
Itâs an electronic gravesite
.
The news sites have been dead for more than half a century. They all end in a horrifying SOSâthe last, frantic cry for help of a drowning worldâtrapped forever in the strands of the Weave.
How could I be so blind?
Mara is appalled. Itâs the same blindness Tain accuses the islanders of when, surrounded by a swallowing sea, they still refuse to see the evidence thatâs right in front of their eyes.
And now she remembers Granny Mary trying to explain something to her, years ago, when Mara first found the cyberwizz, a forgotten relic tucked away at the back of a cupboard. But Mara hadnât listened, too excited by her find, too eager to learn the secret language that wouldbring the cyberwizz to life. Now she knows what Granny must have been trying to tell herâthe Weave was dead.
But now she knows. Now she is looking at the world with eyes wide open. And she is almost sure that there is something out there. A New World, a haven above the seas. A future.
Mara picks up Tainâs carved box, a box he made in the time the island still had trees, for a girl who had a kind of greatness in her; a girl who was Maraâs living image. Mara opens the box and gazes into the mirror she has cracked and ruined. She canât see any signs of greatness in her own faceâjust the wide, scared eyes of a young girl who can hardly bear to think about what lies in front of her.
EARTH WINS
Summer 2100
Early next morning Mara is torn from sleep by the dull clang of Wingâs church bell. She rips back her bedclothes and rushes downstairs. Outside, the world is calm at last, the sea and sky a misty blue. But Mara stops in shock and stares around her.
All that remains of Wing is its central peak. The higher farms and the upper reaches of the village are safe but beyond that, as
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