FEAR OF THE SKY

1529 4D

It was so easy. Five lifts, one after another, took them from Rumchi Zone straight up through Naga and on through the shining streets of the City‘s top levels, all the way to the Park. Andrew held a hand of each of his little brothers, dodging among expensively-dressed adults, andro and children, working his way to the great glassteel doors at the Park entrance.

All three of them goggled at the floating veils, the brilliant and flashing colors lightwoven into the tight skinsuits, the clamoring vendors waving foodstuffs and bottles and ampules, the soft jingling and banging of the singers with their syntrells and panpans, the children carrying crooning cat-pets with braided fur.

They scuttled between two men, Andrew hauling his brothers out in time to escape the giant closing doors, and looked up. The bright sky, lined with thin graceful streaks of cloud, smote him with wonder.

Andrew‘s thighs compressed; his brothers clung to him, terrified, crying, yelling, “No! Take us back! I want to go back!” They gaped upwards, wide-eyed, then buried their faces against Andrew‘s legs.

Children and adults stared at them. Raul and Norwell dragged Andrew back toward the doors, and he fought to stand still.

“Come on! It’s just the sky! It won’t hurt you!”

“No!” Raul broke free and raced for the doors, just opening again; Norwell scurried after him. Andrew chased them and caught them inside.

“I want to go home!”

“Come on, Raul, we came to see the sky and the green trees and the clouds. It’s okay. Nothing’s going to happen.”

“Go home!” sobbed Norwell.

Andrew argued, pleaded, pulled, and finally gave in. He said at last, “All right, we’ll come when you’re older. I’ll take you home now, okay?”

“Okay,” they said, sniffling.

Andrew, full of regret and frustration, looked back at the great doors and the slice of sky beyond them. Now he’d have to get through the next few days, hoping his father wouldn’t find out about it all.