Samit died in the night, surrounded by flowers.

  Outside the acid rain fell onto the planet. The kite runners drove their kites against the clouds, their minds roaming freely through the Conversation. At a gala reception on the upper deck of the cloud city a jazz band played old Earth songs to welcome in a celebrated, if minor, poet from Lunar Port. Above them, on the service level under the great balloon, a young couple hid behind a service chute and kissed with the passion of first love. On the planet far below the storms raged, and nothing lived, and nothing died. In the hospital ward of the cloud city two babies were born. In the famed gardens, where Samit had worked all of his years, a rare Queen of the Night flower bloomed. All of this happened, and more, and some was witnessed, and some was not. And Samit died in the night, surrounded by flowers.