Higher Ground by Becky Black (notion reading list txt) 📗

have his doctorate already if he’d been a bit less social over the last few years. “But we have to meet people. They keep us human, don’t they?”

“I…I guess.”

He sounded unsure. Adam guessed he was more the solitary type. An ivory tower academic who’d grow long fingernails and a beard down to his knees if left to his own devices. A born hermit. But Adam wouldn’t allow it. If Zach needed a little push out into the world, Adam could give it to him, whatever other directions their relationship went in.

“Let’s go,” Adam said. “Finish your drink.”

“Already? It doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes, and there are plenty of seats.”

“I know. But I’m going to show you the best seats in the house.”

They finished their beers, and Adam led Zach past the banks of chairs arranged in front of the stage. Some were occupied already. There was little entertainment to be had in Arius, so any event, no matter how prosaic, brought people out. Even the candidate’s campaign speeches for the council elections drew sizeable audiences—sometimes armed with elderly eggs and vegetables to increase the entertainment value of the event.

Adam led Zach to a flight of steps behind the stage, dodging past the bustling crowd of kids and teachers and parents. The steps led them to the first of several catwalks ringing the walls of the dome. Plants had long ago taken over the catwalks and steps, some of which had become almost fully enclosed green tunnels. From others, the plants hung in great curtains of foliage.

“Are we going all the way to the top?” Zach asked, cautious on the steps, holding tight to the handrail as they climbed up to the next level.

“You aren’t afraid of heights, are you?”

“No.” He sounded unsure.

“The acoustics up there are amazing. And it gets the most light and least disturbance, so it’s like a jungle! Come on, two more flights.”

The sounds of voices, squeaks, and groans from instruments warming up and a snatch of melody here and there floated up as they climbed. At last they reached the highest catwalk, the smallest circle of all, close to the top of the dome.

“Now round the other side so we’re facing the stage,” Adam said. “Careful where you step. There are tendrils and branches on the floor.” He picked his way around carefully by the light of the soft lamps, some almost hidden by foliage. Behind him, Zach muttered a curse or two as they walked. “Okay back there?”

“Just wishing I’d remembered to bring my machete.”

“Hey! No chopping plants except for the purposes of pruning, please. You wouldn’t like me coming along and smashing your rocks, would you?”

“I do have a collection of interesting rocks, actually.”

Adam laughed, glancing back to see Zach cringe, perhaps reading the laugh as mockery. It wasn’t. Interesting rocks might be an oxymoron to Adam, but what could he say about it?

“Maybe one day we can introduce your collection of interesting rocks to my collection of interesting seeds.”

Zach looked both relieved and sheepish. “My rocks are back on Earth. At my parents’ house.”

“I’m sure your mother is loving having to dust them.”

“She gave me several of them, so she can’t complain. Is this it?”

“Yes.” They’d reached a spot Adam had found while up here studying the overgrown plants. Ideal for watching the stage far below and nicely dark. “Sit down,” he said. “You can dangle your legs over, see. Put one each side of that rail, and you can’t slip off.” Zach maneuvered cautiously into place, and Adam sat beside him. The floor of the catwalk was thick with branches, stems, tendrils, and leaves, softer to sit on than the metal walkway. Their legs swung out into empty space, far above the audience. People were coming onto the stage. The seats in front were almost full.

“This was a greenhouse in the old days, wasn’t it?” Zach asked.

“Yes. They grew all the fresh food in here.”

“It must have been very strange in those days, confined to the domes for years.”

Down below, a teacher announced the start of the recital, and a group of youngsters started playing a violin piece. Adam had always had enormous admiration for parents who encouraged their children to play the violin. They must be very patient people. But up here, the acoustics of the dome and the muffling effect of the plants made for a quite pleasant effect.

“Would you sign on to a dome colony like that?” Zach asked.

Adam shrugged. “Maybe. The atmosphere processing takes much less time than it did when this place was founded.” It had taken them a decade to make the air of Ethris breathable, but the same process would only take two years now. “But I’d miss the outside. Plants in here, sure, they’re great, just as interesting.” He caressed a leaf by his head, feeling the smooth, cool surface, and convinced himself as always he could feel the life in it. “But plants belong outside. So do I.”

“Yes.” Zach looked at him, eyes deep black and unreadable in the darkness. “Yes, you definitely do. In the sunshine.” He reached over and touched Adam’s shoulder with a tentative hand, letting his thumb slide under the short sleeve of his shirt. Goose bumps swept down Adam’s arm at the touch, and his stomach got a little agitated.

“You like the outdoors?” Adam asked.

“Yes.”

He probably did a lot of fieldwork, Adam supposed, and pictured him tapping away at rocks with a little hammer, dressed in nothing but hiking boots, tiny shorts, and a sun hat. Probably not accurate, but a delightful picture all the same.

“I do like to be able to come inside at the end of the day to a hot shower and a soft bed, though,” Zach said.

Adam laughed. “Oh yes, I see the appeal.” He saw the appeal of coming in to a hot shower and soft bed with Zach in both of them too. Zach’s hand was still on his arm, the thumb moving slowly back and forth. Adam decided it was