A woman was standing near her. The woman's skin was dark brown, covered only by a few thin strips of violet cloth that hung from her shoulders, crossed under her bare breasts, then circled her hips. Her breasts were small, almost flat. Her hips were slim, the narrowest Daiya had ever seen on a female. Her long legs were hairless. She lifted her eyes to the woman's face. Her nose was small, her lips curved at the corners, her eyes brown and tilted. There were no lines on her face. Her red hair was thick and frizzy, but short.
The woman watched her silently for a bit. In spite of her youthful face, her eyes seemed old, as old as Jowē's. She draped the vines around one of the trees, then came closer, settling herself on the side of the platform near Daiya. She said, “Are you well now?” She spoke the words with a slight accent, unlike Reiho, who had always seemed to be clearing his throat on certain syllables.
“I don't know,” Daiya answered.
“Can you understand my words? I learned this language long ago and had to connect with Homesmind to refresh myself.”
“I understand.” Daiya sat up again, folding her legs.
“I am Etey. I am Reiho's companion. We brought you to our home. You have been resting for a long time. I have given you something to calm you.”
Daiya stared at the woman, instinctively trying to touch her thoughts; she touched nothing. “Reiho has communicated all he knows about you,” Etey went on. “We have communed with Homesmind as well. I am sorry you were not better prepared for your trip here, but do not blame him too much. He is only a boy and did the best he could.”
Daiya wrapped her arms around herself. She was helpless; without her powers, she could not tell what the woman, or anyone else, would do to her. She would be unable to defend herself. She could not read Etey, could not tell what she felt. “I'm crippled,” she said at last. “My mind is without its powers. I know you have given me something, or I would be mad by now. I feel as though...” She shrugged. She could not explain it. These people must feel like this all the time. She wondered how they could endure it.
“Reiho explained what he found,” Etey responded. “Of course you are like this, you have been cut off from the source of your power, from the machines you and Reiho discovered.”
Daiya drew her brows together.
“Do you understand? You have only lost your abilities because you are so distant from those machines.”
She nodded, wondering why she had not thought of that herself. It was not a punishment after all; the voice under the mountain had told her the truth.
Reiho came over to her and sat down next to Etey. “Everyone is curious about you, Daiya,” he said. “They all want to know more about Earth.”
Her shoulders slumped. She imagined them all poking at her, prying into her ideas, peering at her. She sighed, feeling like an object, a thing; she recalled how she had first regarded Reiho. “What am I going to do?” she asked. Her voice sounded too high. She reached out with her hands; they were trembling. She noticed that her shoulder no longer felt bruised. Her sleeves fell back and she saw a tiny mark on her left arm, near her wrist. She looked up at Etey.
“You saw the mark,” the woman said quickly. “Do not worry, it is only a tranquilizing implant, it will keep you calm. I hope your head is clear, I was afraid you might be groggy. Your body is somewhat different from ours, and we had to make adjustments.”
Daiya clutched her shoulders. “Adjustments!”
“Not in you, in the implant.”
“What will happen to me?” She looked from the woman to Reiho. His eyes stared back, filled with concern; for a moment, it was as if she had touched his mind after all. Then she was trapped inside herself again. “What shall I do?”
“You may stay with us,” Etey said. “I know it will be difficult at first, but there are many here who can help you.”
Daiya was silent. She looked around the cave, which was darker now except for the area in which they were sitting. The light had dimmed as Reiho came over to her. There were other mushroom-like chairs such as the one on which the boy had been seated, and three tables made of tree stumps. Earth had receded in her mind. This place, so like her world in some ways, only made her long for Earth more. She could never be a part of this world, only an outsider. They would accept her as easily as her village would have accepted Reiho.
At last she said, “I don't know what to do.”
“You do not have to decide right away,” Etey said. “In the meantime, we can learn about your home and your culture. We are very curious.”
Daiya felt apprehensive. “I cannot,” she said.
“But why?”
“I might betray my people to you, and never know what I had done. You will learn about them while they still know nothing of you, and you may see our weaknesses. Already you may know too much.”
Daiya looked down at her hands, and twisted her fingers together. “What is the point of talking to you?” she continued. “You can probably take the knowledge from me in some way, whether I want you to or not. You have me as a prisoner, you can hold me here, I can't get back alone. I cannot even defend myself against you, I have lost my powers.”
Etey held out a hand. “We shall not hurt you, and we will not force anything from you. Please try to understand us.” Daiya stared at the outstretched hand, refusing to take it. Etey shrugged. “Perhaps you will listen to Reiho.” The woman looked at the boy and he stared back. For a moment, Daiya thought she saw anger in Reiho's eyes, but she could not be sure.
Etey left them, returning to the other room. Reiho peered at Daiya from the sides of his eyes. She said, “Something is wrong.”
“Nothing is wrong.” He said it softly.
“There was something in your face when you looked at your friend.”
Reiho looked down. “Etey is only concerned, that is all. You frightened some people when you ran from the shuttle. You are something new here, and Etey and the others do not know what you will do.”
“Is that why this thing is in my arm, so that I can be controlled?”
“You were agitated. The implant will ease things for you.” She continued to stare at him until he shook his head and sighed. “It is true that it also eases things for my people,” he went on. “They were afraid of what you might do otherwise.”
“I am your prisoner, then.”
“No.” He touched her arm with his hand. “You are a guest, and if you stay, you will be treated as a friend. Please listen to me. I shall protect you, I will not let anything happen.”
“You would not have to say that unless you are afraid something will happen.”
“Please trust me,” he said in a whisper. “I had to trust you on your world, and you must trust me here. We only need time to grow used to you.”
She nodded, unable to say more.
“You are tired,” the boy said. “You should rest some more.”
“I've been resting,” she answered, yawning as she spoke. She reclined again, feeling drained. Reiho left her. The thick ivy fell, closing her off from the rest of the cave, shutting her off from the rest of the comet, hiding her from Earth, closing off her mind, imprisoning her.
She heard the murmur of voices, and recognized Reiho's. The voices were speaking a strange language. They were calm voices. She heard Reiho's voice make a noise that sounded like a word of denial. A woman's voice, which she assumed belonged to Etey, spoke quietly, but there was a demanding, aggressive undercurrent to her words.
Perhaps she was only imagining it, falsely attributing emotions to the voices. She could not be sure. She thought of what Reiho had said and wondered if she was driving a wedge between him and his world, as he had done with her and her village. She rolled on her side and clung to her knees, afraid.
The vines twisted away as Reiho walked through them. “Come on,” he said, pulling her hand. She followed him through the cave's entrance. The vines closed behind them. Her muscles ached a bit. She would have to sleep on the grass; the firm ground would be more comforta
ble than the platform.
She looked around, feeling disoriented. Cliffs of green with vine-covered caves surrounded her. A surface aglow with yellow light arched far above them; there was no blue sky, and no clouds. Far below, a valley ribboned and smeared with blue nestled among the cliffs. She saw no fields, no crops. “Where are we, Reiho?”
“Inside the root of one of those tall trees you saw when we arrived,” he answered.
She shook her head and almost lost her balance. She was moving. She looked down at her feet, and saw a clear glassy surface under her moccasins; she was sliding slowly along it. She held on to Reiho. The surface seemed to be carrying her. “You can walk if you wish,” the boy said. She tried that, moving her feet carefully, feeling the surface yield under them. She stood still; she would let it carry her.
She looked ahead. They were heading toward a space which looked like a sheer drop into nothing. “Press that,” he said, motioning at the belt he had given her earlier. She pressed it just as they reached the end of the glassy path. They dropped, drifting slowly down past the cliff. Three men floated by them and waved at Reiho. They passed elaborately painted walls surrounded by yellow flowers and dropped into a courtyard of white tiles surrounded by trees no higher than bushes. A group of small children were playing by a pool; they were naked except for belts. They chanted, pointed at one another, then began to weave in and out in a complicated pattern.
“What are they doing?” she asked Reiho.
“It is only a game.” Two children ran to her, pulled at her tunic, and then retreated, giggling. They babbled at the others. “They are puzzled by your clothing, it is strange to them.” He pointed at one little girl. She smiled at him as she circled around a boy. “That child there is a ... a ... I do not have the word in your language. She is what you would call a relative of mine, I think.”
“Your sister? A cousin?”
“Not exactly. We share certain genetic characteristics, some common ancestors. Some of the same genetic material was used to create both of us.”
She wondered what he was talking about. “Your parents are related, then,” she said, trying to make sense of his words.
“We do not have parents as you do,” he responded. They walked around the children as he spoke. He did not seem to be paying much attention to his relation; he had not even introduced her. She wondered if they got along, and remembered her sister Silla. She followed him out of the courtyard along a stone path “The material of several individuals was combined by Homesmind to create me, and I was raised by a group of adults. Etey was one of those people, and when I was twelve years old, twelve cycles, you would say, we became companions. I have been with her for four years now, but soon we will separate and I shall once again live with others my age and with those who will teach us.”
“Then you have no parents,” she said, trying to imagine being without those ties.
“But I do. Everyone here is my family, all those who are older are, in a way, parents or teachers to those who are younger. Homesmind is also our parent, since it is Homesmind who selects our genetic characteristics and who brings us to term in Its wombs.”
“You have no mothers and fathers?” She felt queasy as she spoke.
“Not as you do. Such a way of bringing children into the world is hard and dangerous.”
She was silent, not wanting to say that his way seemed a perversion and made her sick just to think about it. Nothing seemed abhorrent to people who altered their own bodies as they did. She drew away from Reiho. The stone path twisted, leading them under an arched bower of slender trees with white blossoms. They were suddenly in the middle of a forest. Daiya spotted a low flat rock, as pale and pink as rose quartz but smooth as if sculpted, and sat on it, feeling completely lost.
Reiho sat next to her. “Do you not want to see more? I can show you...”
She shook her head. She looked at the scratch on her arm which marked the implant, the thing which kept her a prisoner and unable even to feel her revulsion strongly. She longed to claw at it with her nails, tear it out. They had to alter her feelings even to keep her here, robbing her of parts of herself. They had taken her mindpowers, stolen her feelings. They wanted her knowledge. She wondered if they could take her memories from her as well. What kind of place was it where people lived without true families, gave birth to no one, mated with those who had brought them up and then left them, turned their world into a cultivated garden without danger, and put mechanical devices inside their bodies? She could not even touch Reiho; his skin was not skin, but an artificial covering. He sat next to her, naked except for his belt and a few bands of cloth which seemed purely decorative; he might just as well be covered in robes from head to foot.
She looked down at the soft green grass without weeds, which grew at her feet. At least, unhampered by fear, she could think clearly. She glanced at Reiho. “I cannot stay here.”
He seemed puzzled. “You have not even been here very long,” he answered. “You have seen only a tiny portion of our world, you know nothing about it.”
“I know all I need to know. Look at me, you must put a thing in my arm so that I don't go mad, as any normal human being would in such a place. I feel sick when I think of what you do here.”
“But most of us have such implants at times,” Reiho said. “Some are calming, others help us focus our minds on a particular problem, still others can keep us from needing sleep for a time. Occasionally such things are needed. They are only tools to aid us. Don't your people feel different after drinking wine? This is no different.”
“It's not only that,” she said, her voice rising. “It is everything here. Perhaps if you had taken me as a baby and brought me here, it would not have seemed so, for I wouldn't have known other ways. But I'll never fit in, I'll always be an outsider. I would not want to be a part of this.”
“But Homesmind, and all of us, will help you.”
“You cannot, it is too unnatural here. I look at these trees, and think of trees on Earth. I look at this grass, and remember the plains, where it grows high and wild and turns brown and yellow when there is too much sunshine. And I am crippled in this place. I can't read any of you, I can't understand what you do. No one here seems to do any work.”
“Certainly we do. The people we saw this morning were working when we visited.”
Daiya remembered that. They had been in Etey's cave. Three slender, dark people had appeared before them, along with their furniture and part of their own dwelling. She had been startled; Reiho had explained to her that what she saw was an image, not the people themselves. Etey had spoken words Daiya could not understand while the strangers—or their images—had stared at her so long and hard that she began to feel uncomfortable. “Those people were sitting there gazing at pictures of strange things floating in the air,” she said to Reiho. “Do you call that work?”
“They are exobiologists. They were studying images our probes took of a far world, and analyzing them. We sent our robots to the surface of that world, but they found only microscopic forms of life. Even so...” He droned on. She tried not to fidget, unable to grasp most of his words. Was he trying to say there were other worlds besides Earth and the comet-worlds he had mentioned? Where could such places possibly be? “I am sorry,” he said, and she brought her attention back to him. “I am not explaining this very well.”
She waved a hand, excusing him. “It doesn't matter. I meant real work. Where are your crops, your cattle and sheep?”
“The synthesizer provides our food. The animals here, in the forest and elsewhere, are more like pets. We could not eat the corpse of a creature that once lived.”
She sighed. She looked around at the thick short green grass, the trees, the flowers. This was not a true forest; it was a carefully cultivated garden. She gazed up through the tree limbs, seeing not blue sky and clouds but instead a diffuse golden light. Something moved behind one of the trees. She saw a metal creature, tall and oblong, with pincers for limbs. She shudder
ed. “I want to go back,” she said.
Reiho put a hand on hers. She stiffened, forcing herself to sit still. “You told me there was nothing for you there. You said you could not share what you know with your people, that there was nothing you could do. Perhaps you make decisions too quickly, Daiya.”
“There is more for me there than here. Even if I die, at least I'll be on my own world.” She held out her arm. “I won't need something inside me to keep from going mad.”
“Please do not decide now. Promise me you will share what you know and believe and think with us first. There is so much we can learn from you.”
She drew away from him, perching on the edge of the rock. “Is that why you brought me here, to persuade me of that? Even if you are not hostile, did it ever occur to you that I might not want to sit and answer questions from strangers?”
“But you will not have to do that,” he replied. “You can speak to Homesmind directly and It will acquire what you know, and more thoroughly than if you only spoke it aloud. Anyone who is interested can then ask for the information afterward. It is very simple. They will see what you have seen, experience it as you did, even ask for commentary spoken to them by an image of you if they wish.”
She shivered. What were they going to do, rob her of her soul? “Why should you want to know what I do?” she said. “Why should it matter? Both our worlds have survived very well without such things. You talk about things I can't even understand, and use strange words and chants, which means you must possess some kind of wisdom.”
Reiho folded his hands on his lap. “You have not lived here,” he said, “so you cannot know our problems. Life is good here. We have learned much, and we have all that we need. We do not have to do the work you mentioned, and that leaves us free to do our own, whatever interests us—if I chose to do nothing, that would be accepted, though a hundred years from now I might become bored.”
Watchstar Page 16