‘Or clothes? …’
A small group of people came by, a variety of ages; evidently they’d been down to that river, swimming, fishing maybe, and now were on their way back into town, for their skin was glistening wet. And they were showing a lot of that skin. They wore variants of moccasins on their feet, and belts hung with tools, twine and other oddments. Not much else. And no adornments, Rocky managed to notice as he stared, no jewellery or pendants; even their hair was cut neatly but with no sense of styling.
When they saw the boys staring, the group, young men and women alike, shared bursts of quicktalk, and turned away, laughing.
Marvin was grinning. ‘Put your eyes back in their sockets. You’ll get used to it.’
‘I seriously doubt that,’ Rocky said.
The little group of travellers broke up. As Roberta and Jules made off for destinations of their own, Marvin led the boys to a small house on the outskirts of the township. ‘This is a place I share with a few others. It’s not mine. You’ll get the idea, we don’t really own stuff here. I’ll go bunk down elsewhere for now. You’re going to need a private space, time alone. Time to decompress. You especially, Rocky.’
‘I can see that.’
‘But you too, Stan, you’ll have a lot to take in. There’s food in there. Dried meat, fruit, coffee. Go to the river for water, it’s clean. You can build a fire. There’s blankets, clothes that ought to fit if you need them. By which I mean, cover-up clothes like you’re used to. You’re in Rome, but you don’t need to do as the Romans do. Get some rest. I’ll come by in the morning.’ He glanced at them. ‘You won’t be disturbed. People will leave you alone.’
Rocky said, ‘Why? Good manners?’
Stan cocked an eyebrow at him. ‘Not that. You don’t pat the head of a stray dog, do you?’
Marvin said tiredly, ‘Make up your own mind. See you in the morning. Oh, one thing. I wouldn’t recommend trying to step away. The only way out of here is via soft places. The worlds to either stepwise side are much less hospitable …’
The cabin turned out to be cramped, functional, neat, clean, with no decoration whatsoever. Stan dumped his bag, and went straight out ‘to explore’, he said. He didn’t pause to ask if Rocky wanted to come.
Rocky set the fire, put on some coffee, unpacked his own bag, laying out his stuff. He found the routine comforting.
He made one trip out of the cabin, to fetch water from the river in a couple of pails. He came across another group of people in the water, in the warmth of evening, a little further downstream. Laughing, playing, they could have been kids skinny-dipping anywhere. A part of him longed to join in. But when he heard the high-speed gabble of their quicktalk, he turned away.
Back in the cabin he made up a bed from a heap of blankets and turned in early. He didn’t expect to sleep well. He dug out his e-reader, a precious item brought out of the Datum by his parents when they’d first moved out to West 4, and, by candlelight, flicked through some comics.
He was surprised to find himself being shaken awake by Stan. Suddenly it was morning.
Stan asked, ‘You OK?’
‘I slept like a baby, I guess. You?’
‘Me too.’ Stan shrugged. ‘I think maybe they put something in the food.’
‘I didn’t eat any food.’
‘Or the coffee. Something to keep us savage apes quiet.’ He looked restless. ‘Listen, let’s get cleaned up. I bet you Roberta’s here any minute.’
Rocky was just putting his e-reader outside the cabin door, to allow it to charge up through its small solar panel, when Roberta did indeed show up. To Rocky’s relief, though she was dressed much as had been the people he’d encountered yesterday, she at least wasn’t showing much flesh, wearing a kind of shift under a loose sleeveless jacket full of pockets.
She smiled. ‘Ready? Good morning, boys. Come on, let’s walk.’
Rocky asked, ‘Where are we going?’
‘Well, I want to give you a flavour of how we live here. I thought we’d start at the school.’
Stan shrugged, indifferent, as he closed the cabin door behind him.
As they walked she went on, ‘Lesson one, by the way. We dress for practicality, not for show. This jacket I’m wearing, as you’ll see, does feature arguably the single most useful invention human beings ever came up with: pockets. Otherwise we wear only what we need, what is comfortable, generally as little as possible. You can tell we don’t go much for surface appearances.’