Kinder des Schicksals 4 (Xeelee 9): Resplendent

began with the disciplines he imagined would be most
essential in the future. He studied medicine; anthropology, sociology
and ethics; ecosynthesis and all aspects of the Ship’s life-support
machinery; the workings of the Ship’s propulsion systems; techniques
of colonisation; and the geography of the Galaxy and its satellites.
He also buttonholed Andres herself and soaked up her knowledge of
human history. Meanwhile, Qax-derived nano-systems were so prevalent
throughout the Ship that Rusel’s own expertise was much in
demand.
    His days passed in a dream, as if time itself flowed differently
for him now. His major goal continued to be to use up as much of his
conscious time as possible with work. The studying was infinitely
expandable, and very satisfying to his naturally acquisitive mind. He
found he was able to immerse himself in esoteric aspects of one
discipline or another for days on end, as if he was an abstract
intellect, almost forgetting who he was.
    The Elders’ placid lives were not without disturbance, however.
The Qax biotechnology was far from perfect. In the first year of
treatment one man suffered kidney failure; he survived, but had to be
taken out of the programme.
    And it was a great shock to all the Elders when geneticist Ruul
himself succumbed to a ferocious cancer, as the technological
rebuilding of his cells went awry.
    The day after Ruul’s death, as the Elders adjusted to the loss of
his competence and dry humour, Rusel decided he needed a break. He
walked out of the Elders’ huddled quarters and through the body of
the Ship, heading for the area where his brother had set up his own
home with Tila.
    On all the Ship’s cylindrical decks, the interior geography had
been filled by corridors and cabins, clustered in concentric circles
around little open plazas - ’village squares’. Rusel knew the social
theory: the Ship was supposed to be loosely partitioned into
village-sized communities, but he quickly got lost in the detail; the
layout of walls and floors and false ceilings was changed again and
again as the crew sorted out their environment.
    At last he came to the right doorway on the right corridor. He was
about to knock when a boy, aged about five with a shock of thick
black hair, rocketed out of the open door and ran between Rusel’s
legs. The kid wore a bland Ship’s-issue coverall, long overdue for
recycling judging by its grime.
    This must be Tomi, Rusel thought, Diluc’s eldest. Child and Elder
silently appraised each other. Then the kid stuck out his tongue and
ran back into the cabin.
    In a moment Diluc came bustling out of the door, wiping his hands
on a towel. ’Look, what in Lethe’s going on - Rusel! It’s you.
Welcome, welcome!’
    Rusel embraced his brother. Diluc smelt of baby sick, cooking and
sweat, and Rusel was shocked to see a streak of grey in his brother’s
hair. Perhaps Rusel had been locked away in his studies longer than
he had realised.
    Diluc led Rusel into his home. It was a complex of five small
interconnected cabins, including a kitchen and bathroom. Somebody had
been weaving tapestries; gaudy, space-filling abstract patterns
filled one wall.
    Rusel sat on a sofa adapted from an acceleration couch, and
accepted a slug of some kind of liquor. He said, ’I’m sorry I
frightened Tomi. I suppose I’ve let myself become a stranger.’
    Diluc raised an eyebrow. ’Two things about that. Not so much
>stranger< as >strange<.’ He brushed his hand over his
scalp.
    Rusel involuntarily copied the gesture, and felt bare skin. He had
long forgotten that the first side-effect of the pharaoh treatment
had been the loss of his hair; his head was as bald as Andres’s.
Surrounded all day by the other Elders, Rusel had got used to it, he
supposed. He said dryly, ’Next time I’ll wear a wig. What’s the
second thing I got wrong?’
    ’That isn’t Tomi. Tomi was our first. He’s eight now. That was
little Rus, as we call him. He’s five.’
    ’Five?’ But Rusel had attended the baby Rusel’s naming ceremony.
It seemed like yesterday.
    ’And now we’re due for another naming. We’ve missed you, Rus.’
    Rusel felt as if his life was slipping away. ’I’m sorry.’
    Tila came bustling in, with an awestruck little Rus in tow, and an
infant in her arms. She too seemed suddenly to have aged; she had put
on weight, and her face was lined by fine wrinkles. She said that
Tomi was preparing a meal - of course Uncle Rusel would stay to eat,
wouldn’t