Pathways - Jeri Taylor [174]
Her mother nodded, and Kes leapt in. “Where did the Caretaker come from? What was the disaster that happened to change the climate? How long did all this take? Why are the Kazon so mean? What happened to them? How did we get down here? Has anybody ever been back?” She took a breath, more questions forming even as she’d asked these. Her mother smiled and held up a hand.
“Everything we know, I’ve told you. If I knew the answers to those questions, I’d give them to you. But all that was lost over the time we’ve been here. We just know that the energy keeps coming and the Kazon have never bothered us here.”
Kes sat back, mind racing, turning over these astonishing details in her mind. It was maddening—each element of the story led to a set of endless, and apparently unanswerable, questions. She probably had enough questions for the rest of her life, but there weren’t any answers. Or were there?
“Aren’t there any records, any writings about all this? Why wouldn’t we know about our own history?”
“I don’t know of any writings. The story has been handed down from generation to generation.”
“That’s unbelievable. Why wouldn’t someone record all this?”
“I don’t know. They just didn’t.”
It was the kind of answer Kes hated most. It wasn’t really an answer, just saying “because because.” It was frustrating.
“Has anyone ever tried to go to the surface and see what’s there now? Do we even know if the Kazon are still up there? Maybe we could go back now.”
“Why risk it? We’re safe here, and we have everything we need.” Her mother rose, signaling an end to the discussion. “I would think you’d be hungry. We saved you some rations from yesterday. Come along.”
Kes rose and followed, but she knew somehow that things would never be the same. She had tasted knowledge, and it was intoxicating. She had to learn more.
Kes met Daggin soon after she’d completed her growth cycle. He was a sweet-faced boy just slightly older than she, with a quick mind and a ready smile. She’d noticed him looking at her in the Assembly, and she returned his smile. That apparently worked as some kind of signal, because Daggin hurried to her and introduced himself.
That was the first thing she noticed about him: he hurried. She was immediately intrigued that someone besides herself moved to quicker rhythms than most Ocampans. Soon she would learn that Daggin was unusual in many ways, and he was to be a formative influence on her young life.
“Would you like to see the farm?” he asked as soon as she’d told him her name. She was curious—what was a farm? She’d never heard the word.
In reply, Daggin led her out of the Assembly, and then, to her vast surprise, out of the well-traveled confines of the city. Her breath caught as she realized they were past the boundaries, moving through unfamiliar parts of the underground space.
“Where is this? How long have you been coming here? How did you know about it?”
“These tunnels go on and on, all around the periphery of the city. I started coming out here shortly before I finished my growth cycle, when my mother brought me. She has friends who decided to cultivate the farm.”
Kes was fascinated. Daggin had actually answered her questions, and although more had immediately formed, she was content to be silent and see where they were going, trusting that any questions she had would be responded to.
Shortly they emerged into a natural chamber which Kes found astonishingly beautiful. Terraces had been carved into the walls of stone, and green plants grew in abundance on each of the terraces. Lights were suspended above them, casting a warm glow throughout the chamber. There was an unusual aroma, something fresh and clean, that Kes found exhilarating. She turned in wonder to Daggin.
“Tell me about this place. Whose idea was it to build it? What are the green plants? Why are they here?”
Daggin smiled but it was a smile of comradeship. “My mother and her friends created this farm. They believe we shouldn’t just sit around