Rite of Passage

“Nothing. I just don’t believe in adventure anymore.”

“When did you decide that?”

“Just now.”

“Because today wasn’t exciting. No — ‘dramatic.’ Wasn’t going down to Grainau an adventure? How about that?”

“You think being pushed into a big pool of foultasting water is an adventure?” I asked scornfully. “Have you ever had an adventure?”

“I guess not. That doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”

“Doesn’t it?”

Jimmy shook his head. “I don’t know what’s the matter with you. You must be in a bad mood. You were talking about bets — I bet if I try I can work up a legitimate, real adventure.”

“How?” I challenged.

He shook his red head doggedly. “All right. I don’t know now. All I’m betting is that I can find one.”

“Okay,” I said. “It’s a bet.”

There is a certain amount of organization to a Ship’s Assembly, as with most mass gatherings — it takes somebody to be there to see that everything is in order, that there are chairs, tables, microphones and all that. Mostly this can be just anybody who gets saddled with the job, but the final decisions devolve on the man who chairs the Assembly, meaning Daddy. I think, too, that he was interested that things go smoothly in this first Assembly after he became Ship’s Chairman.

The night the Assembly was to meet to consider the case of Alicia MacReady, Daddy finished dinner early and left for the Second Level. Zena Andrus came over to eat with me that night. I had found that in the right circumstances I could like her. She had a tendency to whine at times, but that’s not the worst fault in the world. And she did have courage.

As we were finishing dinner, but before dessert, there was a signal at the door. It was Mr. Tubman.

“You said to be here at six-thirty,” he said apologetically, seeing that we were not finished as yet.

“That’s quite all right, Henry,” Daddy said. “I think I’m about finished. You know where the dessert is, Mia. Clean things up and dispose of the dishes when you’re finished.”

“You don’t have to tell me that,” I said.

“I know,” he said. “It just isn’t so long since I did have to and I still have the habit.”

Dessert was a parfait. While we were eating it after Daddy had left, Zena said, “What is this Assembly thing about, anyway? Mum and Daddy are going but they didn’t talk about it.”

I said, “Everybody’s been talking about it. I would have thought you’d know.”

“Well, I don’t,” she said. “I don’t pay much attention to things like Assemblies and I bet you never did either before your dad became Ship’s Chairman.”

Well, I hadn’t, but I hadn’t been completely unaware of them, either. So I explained what I knew of things to her.

“It doesn’t seem like very much,” Zena said. “They could always get rid of the baby. She couldn’t have gotten away with having it, anyway. It seems like a whole big fuss over not very much at all.”

“It’s the principle of the thing,” I said.

Zena shrugged, and went back to her parfait. It was her second. Things always seemed to be much simpler for her than they were for me.

“Must you make that noise?” asked Zena, after we had adjourned from the table. She was sitting on the floor of my bedroom systematically taking one of my dolls apart. As it happened, this one was meant to be taken apart, carefully of course since it was old and worn. The doll was originally Russian and had been in the family since before we’d left Earth. It was wooden and came apart. Inside was a smaller doll which came apart. Altogether there were a total of twelve dolls nested one inside the next. It’s the sort of thing you can spend a lot of time with.

I was sitting cross-legged on my bed and playing on the pennywhistle I had discovered a couple of months before. I was playing a very simple little tune, mainly because I couldn’t finger fast enough for anything more complicated. Still, it didn’t sound half bad to me.

I said, “ ‘The man that hath no music in himself, nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, is fit for…’ ” I shut my eyes trying to remember. “ ‘… for treasons, stratagems and something-or-other.’ ”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It’s a quotation. From Shakespeare.”

“If you’re talking about me,” Zena said, “I like music well enough.”

I held up the pennywhistle. “Well, this is music.”

“You ought to practice it in private until you can play it better.”

I bounced up, put the pennywhistle away, then hopped over Zena on the floor to get to the vid. “It’s time for the Assembly anyway.” I turned on the general channel of the vid.

Zena gave a sour look. “Do we have to watch that old thing?”

“Jimmy and I are supposed to,” I said.

“Is that Jimmy Dentremont?”

“Yes.”

“You spend a lot of time with him, don’t you?”

“We’ve got the same tutor and we’re in the same Survival Class,” I said.

“Oh,” Zena said. She began stacking the dolls together. “Do you like him? He always seemed too full of himself to me.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “He is bright. I guess I can take him or leave him alone.”

I flopped on the floor and leaned my back against the bed. The vid showed the Assembly about ready to be called to order.