stepped aboard the shuttle as the air hissed into the rams that closed

the sliding doors.

Roz bussed Annie hurriedly on the cheek and stepped inside the door of

the compartment. Annie held onto the doors as they slid dosed, letting

go at the last minute. Roz shouted through the glass. 'I'll look in

on you tonight!" Annie nodded tight-lipped, and waved both hands as

the shuttle carried them away.

The compartment for which Steve and Roz had been issued tickets was

only a quarter full. Most of the other passengers slept, or watched

one of the overhead tv sets, listening to the soundtrack through

earphones plugged into their seats. Saddling the monorail track, and

driven by powerful linear induction motors, the shuttle sped eastwards

through the close-fitting tunnel whose grey blankness was relieved only

by the regular flash of white as the mile marker bands flipped past.

Even though the nearest passenger was four rows away, and there was no

possibility of being overheard, neither of them referred to the secrets

they had exchanged on the previous day. Lacking any knowledge of

telepathy and unaware that the word-concept even existed, Steve and Roz

were more than a little frightened of the powers they had unwittingly

unleashed - or become prey to. To be 'different' in a society whose

structure and values were based on a cloying conformity, co-operative

group action, and monolithic unity of purpose could, if discovered,

lead to undesirable consequences. Deviant behaviour- the mark of a

potential renegrade - was a Code Two default which could lead to arrest

and extended treatment - known as 'reprogramming'.

Neither of them wanted to risk that. Steve knew that Roz had her own

plans and dreams for the future; was aware that success lay in jumping,

like well-trained dogs, through the approved pattern of hoops. As Bart

had said - the system did not make mistakes. Only people made

mistakes. It was people who failed, not the system. Trying to buck it

only led to trouble and, for persistent offenders, could even prove

fatal. Steve was already a past-master at dissimulation.

Indeed, he had understood at a very early age that, in a society whose

members were constantly encouraged to exhibit in every facet of their

lives the Seven Great Qualities of Trackerdom (Honesty, Loyalty,

Discipline, Dedication, Courage, Intelligence and Skill) possession of

the 8th Quality - Duplicity - was vital for anyone planning to claw

their way to the top.

Roz was different. For a long time, she had actually believed that the

Seven Great Qualities immortalised by the sacrifice of the Minutemen

and the Foragers, and now said to be enshrined in the First Family,

were the guidelines by which everybody should live; that this, in fact,

was the way everybody did live. But now even she began to bend the

rules. She was learning. Fast.

Steve and Roz spent three days together going round the capital of the

Federation. Everything was much bigger and grander-looking than at

Roosevelt Field and even though he had now seen the overground, the

sheer size and glittering magnificence of John Wayne Plaza made Steve

gasp in wonder. The huge deeply-vaulted central dome - a mile across

and half a mile high - opened onto five lofty tunnels, each a mile

long, and known as Vistas. These ran out from the dome to form the

points of a star - the symbol of Texas, the Inner State, founder member

of the Federation.

The new deeps that were being opened up were different too. At

Roosevelt Field, where functionalism was still the keynote, the

accommodation units were built round the sides of the shafts but at

Grand Central - at the brand spanking new San Jacinto Deep - a huge

freestanding circular tower with staggered clusters of balconies had

been built in the middle of a vast shaft whose walls had been carved to

form a series of inter-linked, landscaped terraces planted with

evergreen trees, bushes and lush foliage.

From the top of this vertical rock garden, water cascaded down over

rocks, was gathered in pools, ran in streams, rivulets and

mini-cataracts between mossy banks, splashing and dashing its way down

through the greenery into a small horseshoe lake wrapped around the