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newly introduced to the social scene. Her family was neither famous nor rich, though by the complicated rules of birth and occupation they were still primaries. Amarantha and her mother carried the extra burden of being Engineered, part of a failed attempt to improve the genetic strain of the Hypogeum. “It’s the tossed salad haircut,” the other women whispered when they thought she wasn’t listening, but she knew they spoke out of jealousy. With her combination of beauty, energy, and charm, she outshone them all.
    Then one day she learned that she had attracted the attention of Second Son. She never understood why Second Son had taken an interest in her. Perhaps he was titillated by the idea of consorting with a woman of lesser rank, or perhaps it was because she was Engineered. At any rate, the opportunity to meet such a prestigious young man was too intriguing to pass up, even if he was a few years younger than she was.
    He treated her to a delicious private dinner, danced badly with her, then showed her the view from the Chandelier. By that time, despite the attention he lavished on her, she was beginning to regret accepting his invitation. Second Son was a boor. He talked incessantly about himself, and he treated his many servants with appall-ing rudeness. Finally, as she was trying to find a polite way to cut the date short, he ushered her into one of the Orcus family suites and shut the door behind them. He threw himself on her, kissing her neck and fumbling with the clasps of her dress. To this day, she doesn’t remember how she extricated herself, what she said to Second Son to make him let her go. What she does remember is Second Son lying on the floor and sobbing about his family, his dying brother, and his own powerlessness. Amarantha had listened for as long as she could stand it, then fled.
    He commed her the next day. Six times. She refused to answer.
    The day after that he sent a messenger. She sent him away.
    The day after that he sent a different messenger. She sent that one away as well.
    Finally he showed up at the electrical station where she worked. She almost felt sorry for him; she knew that it was a terrible blow to his ego for a null-class citizen to have to personally call on a person of lesser rank. She took a walk with him. They talked. Mindful of his connections, frightened by his family, she was polite and tried not to be angry. Perhaps, she thought, they could be friends.
    But it hadn’t worked. Second Son didn’t know how to simply be friends with anyone. He would visit, then stare at her for long periods without saying anything. When he finally spoke, it would be long and convoluted arguments about how much he loved her, how they should be together.
    She began to spend her nights at the homes of friends, hoping to elude him. Rather than giving up on her, as she hoped he would, he only increased the number of gifts and messages he sent to her.
    Finally, in desperation, she told him she couldn’t stand him and that she never wanted to see him again. He screamed and threatened, displaying the famous Orcus temper. When he saw she couldn’t be moved, he stormed out, swearing she wasn’t worth his time anyway. Things should have ended there, but the suspicion that Second Son hasn’t given up so easily lingers in Amarantha’s mind. Sometimes she answers the ring of the comm only to find that the line is blank. Other times one of the cameras focuses on her, at home, at work, or in a crowd, and somehow she knows, just knows , that Second Son is watching her.
    Cadell, who has fallen asleep beside her, begins to snore. Smiling, she tucks the covers under his chin and upbraids herself for her paranoid thoughts. Surely Second Son has forgotten her. Surely, with his marriage to his sister, Dancer, only a few days away, he has more important things on his mind.
    She snuggles in close to Cadell, putting her arm around him. She closes her eyes, envisioning the sky beyond the Sky.
     
    SILVER