Eye of the Comet Read Free Page A

feel.”
    “Lydee!”
    The cry came from the river. A boat was rowing itself toward them, its silver oars dipping into the water in unison. Lydee stood up, waving when she saw her friends on its decks. Nara was with them, her hands around the stem of a large, yellow flower. Lydee dived into the water, swimming to the boat.

    * * *

    The yellow flower, Nara’s gift, was Lydee’s parasol; its stem rested against her shoulder. Tila’s present, a silver butterfly striped with red, nestled against one petal. On her wrist, Jerod’s bracelet gleamed; the tiny stones on the gold band spelled out a message: You are linked to us. Each stone represented a friend; Tila was amber, Pilo onyx, Nara turquoise, Jerod a diamond. Lydee’s stone was black, like Pilo’s, but hers was veined with scarlet.
    The boat’s oars hovered over the water as they drifted. Tila smiled at Pilo’s orb of comets, then handed it and the pouch back to Lydee. “Now we all have links,” she said, letting her long, brown hair fall over one rosy cheek as she tilted her head.
    Jerod handed Lydee a glass of pink wine; the fine silver threads on his bald head glittered in the light. Lydee had known the four on the boat all her life. They had grown up together in the nursery, played together, been taught together, looked after the few younger children together. They would always have a special bond.
    “Row on,” Jerod said. The boat obediently stroked the water. They passed a flock of gray waterfowl; the birds lifted their heads in unison. “We should live in boats, not in caves. I dream of a world with rivers and lakes, where we’d never reach shore. We could build a world like that.”
    “Are you still thinking of doing so?” Nara asked.
    “There are too many older ones here,” the bald boy replied. “No matter what happens, we’ll always be the young ones to them, even after we’ve lived for a century or two.”
    Tila shook her head. “By then, some of them will have chosen to give up life.”
    “Do you really think so? How many old ones ever give up life? How many have given up life since we were incubated?”
    Three , Homesmind said inside all of them. “Three,” Jerod continued. “Out of three million.” “It doesn’t surprise me,” Nara said. “I don’t understand why anyone would give up life. Of course, there’s Genlai.” She giggled.
    Jerod’s blue eyes narrowed. “She won’t choose death. She’ll settle for forgetfulness, and then the world will seem new to her again.” He draped one lean, muscular arm over his knee. “They won’t give up life. And few of them become guides or teachers or mentors, so Homesmind gives us fewer children. You see what I’m saying. It’s almost time — time for some of us to leave this world and make a home on another.”
    Tila gazed at him silently, her hazel eyes lost in thought. “We can’t,” she said at last. “We don’t know enough.”
    “We’ll know enough before long. Homesmind will help, and give us a new Mind for our new world. Don’t you see? That world will be ours. Here, we’ll live as those here have always lived. There, we might become something else.” His voice was calm, but his eyes shone.
    “It could be dangerous at first,” Nara murmured. “We’ll have to seed another comet.”
    Jerod shrugged. He had always been more adventurous than the others, the first to attempt new stunts while flying, the first to learn how to pilot one of Home’s shuttles. “Not really,” he replied in his husky voice. “After all, most of what we’d do would be design. We could wait before moving. I’m sure that some of the younger children would decide to go with us by then.”
    The prospect appealed to Lydee. Perhaps it is time , Homesmind whispered. This world has not given birth to a new one for centuries.
    “Why talk of it now?” Pilo asked. “We’re here for Lydee, to celebrate her link.” He reached for a glass.
    “That’s why I say it.” Jerod turned toward