“And tens of thousands of different bugs,” Elata said.

“There’s more than that,” Seldom said. The topic was exciting, and he reached across Elata to grab Diamond’s knee. “We don’t know how many species of insects there are. Sometimes one species vanishes, and sometimes a scientist finds some little beetle or fly that nobody has ever seen before.”

“Is that true?” Elata asked doubtfully.

“It is,” Seldom insisted.

“Who told you that?”

The boy grinned and looked at the Master. “Isn’t that true, sir?”

Nissim seemed to be watching them, but he didn’t react, blinking several times before he returned from wherever his mind was.

“Is what true?” he asked.

“People are finding new insects,” Seldom said.

“Yes.”

The boy straightened his back, proud of himself.

“But it’s very rare,” the Master cautioned. “And we aren’t certain why it happens. Some voices argue that new species are forming. But experts and every textbook will claim that the little things have managed to hide from us until now. They’ve been here since the Creation, and they always will be.”

“That’s what I think,” said Elata. “Always, and always.”

“I like the other idea,” Seldom maintained.

Nissim sat sideways on his bench, watching the youngsters as well as the two men sharing the bench at the back of the cabin.

“Which story do you believe?” Elata asked the Master.

“I avoid opinions,” Nissim said. “It’s easier that way to accept both answers equally, and deny both of them at the same time. That’s how I treat problems that I don’t understand.”

His answer confused everybody, and the subject was dropped.

The canopy was not simple or simply green. Fat brown branches emerged from Marduk—horizontal and thick, radiating straight out from the trunk—and every branch was covered with small branches and lush leaves and moving patches of color that were birds and machines. The closer they approached, the more confused and amazing the view became.

“What’s below this?” Diamond asked.

Nissim put both of his hands on the boy’s shoulders. He seemed ready to talk, but then he pulled his hands back, his mind still wandering.

Seldom spoke. “What’s below the canopy, you mean?”

“Yes.”

“Air,” said Elata.

“And daylight,” Seldom said. “Too bright for ordinary eyes, and kids aren’t supposed to ever look it.”

“The sun can blind you,” Elata warned.

Diamond remembered the dark goggles in the closet back home and how his father’s eyes were pale when his face was very brown.

“And what are the coronas?” he asked.

Elata sighed and Seldom twisted against the hard bench. Just the word “coronas” made them nervous and thrilled.

“They have their own place, and it’s a very different place,” Seldom said.

“Nothing like this,” Elata added.

Once again, the blimp changed speed and direction. Propellers rolled hard and fast, and from somewhere on the canopy another horn sounded, thunderous notes rising up through the machine and through them.

Once again, Diamond made the spherical world with his hands, fingertips touching with his thumbs closest to his face.

Seldom reached between his palms, down low. “This is where the night grows. Between us and the sun.”

“Night grows,” Diamond repeated doubtfully.

“Sure,” Elata said. “There’s a second canopy down there, only the plants aren’t anything we would recognize.”

Suddenly the Master made a soft sound, lifting a finger.

The others fell silent.

Leaning close, the man put his face in front of Diamond’s face. “Those three men who came onboard,” he whispered.

Seldom started to turn his head.

Nissim dropped a hand on Seldom’s shoulder. “Hold still. Look at me, please.” Then he watched Diamond, saying, “One of them is sitting ahead of us. Do you know who I mean?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know why he might know you?”

Diamond shook his head.

“What’s wrong?” Elata asked.

“Those gentlemen are taking turns,” Nissim explained. “One at a time, they’re watching us. And they’re mostly interested in Diamond. Which is reasonable, I suppose, since the boy is remarkable. But what worries me is that they don’t strike me as being the inquisitive sort.”

Once more, the great horn sounded, and the blimp finished making its majestic turn, aligning with the new landing.

Thinking about the three men, Seldom trembled. “What do we do?” he asked.

“Nothing,” said Nissim.

The boy started to turn his head, trying to catch sight of the two men behind them.

“Stop,” Nissim said.

Elata took Seldom by the hand. “We’re all right. Nobody’s going to hurt us.”

Diamond felt cold and sorry.

Nissim touched his shoulder. “You need to go to the bathroom.”

The boy started to say, “I don’t.”

“Come. I’m taking you.” Then the man made a point of grabbing the others’ hands, squeezing hard as he said, “Sit and wait. This won’t take long.”

Seldom started to ask questions but thought better of it.

“Let’s go,” Nissim said.

Diamond’s legs were weak, and his breath came in quick shallow bursts. But he managed to stand, joining the Master in the aisle, a sure hand guiding him toward the front of the cabin. The strange man sitting in front was quiet, staring hard at the floor between his feet. But as the two of them passed, he turned and stared, brown eyes unblinking and his mouth clamped as tight as could be.

A long hallway ended with a staircase leading up to the cockpit. Diamond looked at the bank of controls and the pilot standing before the open window and her assistant sitting beside her. “Now,” said the pilot, and the assistant pulled a long lever, deploying the gangway again.

Two narrow doors stood in the hallway, facing one another and each wearing a bowl-shaped emblem. Nissim knocked on one door and opened it, ushering the boy into a tiny room. The sink was dirty and the toilet smelled. Diamond felt a sudden need to urinate. Nissim closed the door and pulled a latch to lock it, and then he reached behind his back, saying, “If you have to go, go.”

Diamond didn’t need any more encouragement.

And from behind, Nissim removed a pair of knives wrapped in soft brown leather. He had carried them from the beginning.

“Three men,” he began. “Somebody sent them, and I can’t guess who. But it doesn’t matter. The problem is that there’s three of them. If somebody wanted us followed, he would send just one person, somebody we wouldn’t notice. But three big boys strutting onboard like they did . . . no, that means they plan to take you. They know who you are, and I don’t know how that can be. But I’m almost certain that they want to grab you up.”

“Me,” said Diamond. “Me?”

The butcher’s knives were designed to cut stubborn meat off bones and carve away tendons. Nissim used the smaller knife, working on the window high on the outside wall. The window was already partway opened, supplying meager circulation to the stinking room. He jabbed the knife’s point into a hinge, prying it away from an old wooden frame.

“Why me?” asked Diamond.

“A fine question and I wish we had time to talk. But we don’t.” Nissim stopped working on the hinge, rewrapping each knife in its own leather. Then he grabbed the window with both hands, and he waited.

Another horn sounded.

The blaring was enormous and close, and it covered up the sound of the big man twisting the window away from the rectangular opening. Without a false motion, Nissim set the glass on the sink and knelt down in front of the boy. “Who they are and why they want you—I don’t know the answers. But there are three of them, and I’m responsible for the three of you. And I think this is our best chance to get away.”

Diamond glanced at the window.

“This is a big landing, and we’re floating over it right now,” the man explained. “In a few moments, the gangway will be pulled back up. And you’ll climb out through this hole and carefully, carefully jump down.”