“Your people were perturbed by that execution in Oberg,” he said. “I had to see that it wouldn't happen again, so that you wouldn't be tempted to abandon the Project.”
“Oh, I understand your reasoning. Earth mustn't see you making things too easy for us. We can work with you now, and Ishtar's patrols will see that no one becomes too friendly with us. I explained that to many of my friends, that you were a man capable of mimicking friendship and kindness in the service of the Project's goals and that you'd see that the cult did not impede our work.”
He took a breath. “I'm sorry I said what I did to you. I know it was cruel to do it that way—you must have seen—”
Tesia seemed amused; her lips curved into a smile. “It accomplished your purpose. You showed your colleagues that we had no hold over you, and now we can get on with the work you postponed. You have no reason to be sorry.”
She entered the building; the door closed behind her. He waited only a moment before he followed. The only freedom he had known was with her, before his sense of duty had put an end to it. He wanted to find that freedom again, have something for himself apart from the Project's demands. He wanted to touch one person without thoughts of how that person might become one of his tools.
He reached the door to her room before it could close and stood in the doorway as she stepped back. She would turn him away and taunt him with the words he had spoken to her. She would reproach him for not having the sensitivity to have said his farewells in private or to prepare her for their meeting. She would remind him that she was a Habber and that no true bond could ever exist between them; he had said so himself. Then she would turn away, indifferent to him, or find that she could take a bittersweet pleasure in his pain.
“Tesia,” he said hoarsely.
Her arms opened. He stepped forward and embraced her.
THE GUIDE
Seventeen
“You're certain this is what you want,” Malik said to Chimene. They were nearing the entrance to Island Two's airship bay; it seemed a little late for her father to be asking her that now.
“Yes,” Chimene replied. “Anyway, I can always come back if I change my mind.”
“In six months, you can,” Malik reminded her, “so I hope you're sure now. You made the request, after all, and Risa will expect you to keep to your commitment.”
“I know that.” She hugged him; he handed Chimene her duffel. “I'll miss you.”
“Well, it won't be that long, and Risa will be happy to have more time with you.” Malik kissed her on the forehead. “Send me a message as soon as you can.”
“I will.”
She walked toward the bay, then turned to wave at Malik one last time before the door closed behind her. Cargo was being taken off one airship; passengers were ascending the ramp to another. “Go to the third airship on your right,” a voice from the small screen near the door said as her wristband was scanned. “Departure for the Platform in ten minutes.”
She hurried to the line of people and followed them into the airship. The two pilots, both in Ishtar's sash, were already seated by the controls under the large screen in front of the ship; the passengers began to settle themselves in the worn and stained seats. Chimene found a seat near the back, rummaged in her duffel for her pocket screen, then stowed the bag under her seat.
She was the only child aboard. She strapped herself in, then looked down at her screen, pretending to read.
“—Malik Haddad's daughter,” a voice near her murmured.
“What a beautiful child. Gets her looks from him, I guess.”
A blossom of Astarte—that was what her father called her in Arabic. She liked such compliments, even if Risa often told her that Chimene was not responsible for her appearance and could not consider it an accomplishment.
She stared at her screen. Usually, she did not mind talking with the other passengers, but she had a lot to think about during this trip. She had surprised her father by asking to spend all this time in Oberg, but she had convinced him that she wanted more time with her old friends and her mother's household. She had not told Malik that she was equally anxious to be away from him.
“Sigurd's favorite.” She had heard one Linker whisper the words to another. “The Administrator's pet” was another term she had overheard. The Islanders who referred to her father that way seemed amused rather than contemptuous, but their words made her wince. Malik either did not know what some people called him or did not care.
She and Malik had come to Island Two five years ago, when Chimene was six. Her father had unexpectedly been offered a chance to trade places with a teacher there, news that came as a relief to her parents and the entire household.
The long months preceding that offer were not times she wanted to recall. Risa had decided not to run for the Council again, which only gave her more time at home to glower at Malik in silence or to snipe at him about some small lapse. Malik had finally moved to Bettina's wing of the house, where Nikolai made room for him.
The estrangement and the household's forced cheerfulness, as they pretended this was only a temporary problem, left Chimene with a gnawing guilt. She knew her father wanted to leave and was staying only because of her. She saw that Risa, once so sure and confident, was now so uncertain of herself that she could not make the simplest decision without consulting the rest of the household.
It was all her fault; Chimene could not escape the feeling. Her father would not leave without her, and Risa would never let her go. Clinging to Malik for comfort made her feel disloyal to her mother, while her efforts to cheer Risa seemed futile. She did not want to give them any reason to hate each other more because of her. She continued to hope that one day she would wake up, go to her mother's room, and find Malik there again, holding Risa's hand, their disputes forgotten.
The offer for Malik to go to Island Two came just in time. Nikolai and Emilia, affected by the household's uneasy mood, had been muttering about voiding their agreement in order to set up their own household elsewhere. Chimene did not even get a chance to worry about how much she would miss her father because she was invited to accompany him.
The Island Administrators, according to the message, were beginning a new program to promote better feeling between the settlements and the Islands. Some of the Islander children would trade places with children selected from each of the settlements. Promising students from among the dome-dwellers had studied at Island schools before, but this program was to involve much younger children; they would begin with a small number and see how things went.
It was, Chimene supposed, an honor to be chosen, and even Risa was unable to come up with any objections. Chimene could live with her father rather than an Islander family and would be gone only for a few months. So Risa had believed then, but in Chimene's case the months had turned into years, with Malik pointing out to her mother that Chimene would benefit from more contact with the Island specialists.
Once, Risa would have given Malik an argument about that, but Chimene soon saw that her parents’ separation had, instead of driving them even further apart, brought them closer together. Their messages to each other, at first limited to uneasy talk about various events in their lives, grew warmer, and often they spoke directly over the screen. Whenever Chimene visited Oberg, as she always did during the periods when the children were given time off from school, Risa pestered her for more news about Malik; when she returned, Malik seemed eager to hear about Risa. It was enough to make her think that her parents might renew their bond, but it had lapsed, an occasion they both marked with carefully worded messages saying they would always feel linked through Chimene.
Maybe that was just as well, Chimene thought. Risa might not like to see what Malik was now. It was odd that living alone with her father had given Chimene a little more sympathy for her mother's former complaints—that Malik was impractical, that he wanted an easy life, that he felt no true devotion to the Project.
“We are departing from Island Two now,” a
voice announced from the front of the airship. “Make sure your harnesses are fastened, and do not move about the ship until we're aloft.”
Chimene felt a wave of relief, and then a twinge. In the past she had been reluctant to visit Oberg; now she was looking forward to the journey. Malik would have been surprised if she had told him just how much she wanted to get away and what her reasons were.
Sef, she thought to herself; she loved to think of his name, turning it this way and that in her mind, caressing it with her voice as she whispered it to herself. Sef Talis. She had met him only a few months before, during her last visit to Oberg. She settled back in her seat, remembering, savoring the thought of him.
* * * *
Risa had put in a request for a new immigrant, and the record of one young man had indicated that he might be useful around the house. Sef Talis had experience as a farmer, which would make him useful in the greenhouse, and he also had some of a mechanic's skills.
Chimene, along with her friend Lena Kerein, had gone to meet the new arrival in Oberg's main dome. They found two men loitering outside the bay. Both were tall; one had thinning brown hair and a short beard. The other seemed hardly more than a boy, in spite of his height; his thick chestnut hair curled slightly around his pleasant face. Each man was carrying a pack, and both had the glazed look of fatigue.
“Is one of you Sef Talis?” Chimene asked.
“I am,” the chestnut-haired man replied.
She blinked, a little surprised. Risa had told her the man was young, but not how young. “I'm Chimene Liang-Haddad. This is Lena Kerein. My mother's Risa Liangharad, but she couldn't come herself because she has to work today, so she sent me to get you.”
“Yes,” the man said. “I was told someone asked for me. Guess I'm lucky I don't have to live in a tent right off.” He smiled then; the smile made his face seem even more attractive. His teeth were white and straight, and she noticed that his warm brown eyes were flecked with gold.
“You're tall,” Lena said. Chimene felt irritated with her friend for making such an obvious statement. “We don't have many people that tall.”
“People grow tall where I come from—the Pacific Federation, in North America. They grow pretty tall in the Nomarchy of New Deseret, too—some of my mother's people came from there.”
“We'd better go,” Chimene said. “It'll be getting dark in a couple of hours.” Sef hoisted his pack to his broad shoulders, shook hands with the other man, then followed the girls toward the main road. “I thought you'd be older,” Chimene added.
“I'm almost eighteen. How old are you two?”
“Eleven,” Lena said. “Chimene's ten.”
“Almost eleven,” Chimene said quickly.
“Maybe you can tell me a little about your household.”
“Well, there's Chen,” Chimene replied. “Liang Chen. He's my grandfather. He's old, but he's still pretty healthy. Then there's Bettina Christies—she's a physician. She and Chen are sort of like bondmates, but they never made a pledge. And there's Kolya—Nikolai Burian—and his bondmate, Emilia Knef, and they had a daughter a few months ago—her name's Irina. Then there's Paul Bettinas and his bondmate, Grazie Lauro, and their son, Patrick Lauro—he's about a year older than I am.”
“Sounds like a good-sized household,” Sef said. “And there's your mother and you, of course.”
“Well, I don't actually live here—I'm just visiting. I've been living on Island Two with my father, Malik Haddad. His bond with my mother lapsed a little while ago.”
“Malik's a teacher,” Lena said. “He's kind of a scholar, too—he gives lectures and stuff for the Islanders, and even the Administrators sometimes go to them.”
Chimene glanced at the brown-haired girl. When Lena made such comments, she was never sure if her friend was praising Malik or mocking him a little. “He's handsome, too,” Lena continued. “My mother says she's never seen a better-looking man.”
“I guess he must be to have such a pretty daughter.”
Chimene blushed a little; now it was Lena's turn to look a bit annoyed. “Anyway,” Chimene said, “Kolya and Emilia will put Irina in their room, so you can use hers until I leave.” She was beginning to feel even more sorry that she would have to return to the Islands.
A cart rolled by toward the tunnel; one of the women on it was wearing a red and black sash. “I saw that sash on a lot of the pilots at the Platform,” Sef murmured. “What's it mean?”
“They're members of Ishtar,” Chimene explained.
“And what's Ishtar?”
“The fellowship of true Cytherians,” Lena said in her slightly sarcastic tone. “It's sort of like a religion, and every settler's welcome to join. If you go to a meeting, they'll tell you all about it. My parents are thinking of joining soon.”
“And are many people here members?” Sef asked.
“Not that many—about two thousand here in Oberg. They'd like everybody to join, but it doesn't look like they will. Still, they are kind of important—most of the pilots are members, and almost all of the patrol volunteers. If my parents join, I guess they'll have me join, too.” Lena sounded indifferent to the prospect. “Kichi Timsen's the Guide—Ishtar's Guide. That makes her the most important member.”
“Not really,” Chimene said. “I mean, she is the Guide, but they're all brothers and sisters in Ishtar, so nobody's really more important than somebody else. It's just that the Guide and the people closest to her have broken through the things that divide other people. They kind of set an example, but they're not really more important—they just know not everybody's ready to live the way they do.”
“The Guide can say that,” Lena objected, “but she's still more important. Kichi—”
Chimene made a sign at her friend; Lena fell silent. For a moment, Chimene had feared that the other girl might tell Sef that they both occasionally went to the Guide's house, and if Sef ever mentioned that to Risa—Chimene shuddered. She had kept those visits a secret so far; Risa would never understand. Risa did not like Kichi Timsen. She did not know the kindly woman who listened to Chimene's confidences, spoke to her as if she were an adult, and looked forward to their talks.
“My mother doesn't like Ishtar all that much,” Chimene muttered.
“Really?” Sef said. “But you seem to know something about it.”
“Well, everybody does, but—” She waved at two other children as they came to the tunnel. “Risa just doesn't like them, that's all.”
That seemed strange, the more she thought about it. Weren't Kichi and Risa working toward the same goal? Didn't Risa say that they were all Cytherians and therefore equals? Risa probably didn't like Kichi because the Guide had become more influential, and Administrator Sigurd spoke to her more often, while Risa no longer had as much influence.
“My father came here from a camp,” Chimene said, wanting to change the subject. “So did Kolya, but he doesn't talk about it very much.”
“I can guess why. I was in the camp outside San Antonio. It was hard—not many people try to get to a camp now, and the Guardians don't make it easy for the ones who do.” He smiled down at her. “Seems it was worth the trouble now.”
She smiled back; his smile made her feel warm inside.
* * * *
Sef rested in Irina's room before joining the rest of the household for supper. Chimene listened intently as he told them all a little about himself. He was the only son of parents who had him late in life; they had apparently urged him to emigrate. He knew how to read a little, and he was willing to work. Risa seemed satisfied; that was just the kind of statement she liked to hear.
After supper, Risa and Nikolai took the plates to the kitchen, Emilia went to her room to nurse Irina, and Chen took out a few of his carvings to show Sef. Chimene sprawled on the floor near her grandfather, staring at Sef's large hands as they gently handled an image Chen had carved of her. “This is nice work,” Sef said, “but Chimene must be a good subject.”
“She is.
” Chen picked up a carving of Malik's head and shoulders. “This one's of her father. Maybe I can do one of you sometime.”
“I'd be honored.”
Chen got to his feet slowly. “You can leave them there on the table. I'd sit up with you for a bit, but I need more rest these days.”
“Of course. Maybe I'll take a look outside, see what the dome's like after dark.”
“Don't wander too far,” Chen said. “Some of the patrol might ask what you're doing. Normally, they don't bother people too much, but you're new and they might question you.”
“I'll stay close to the house then,” Sef responded.
“I suppose we need the patrol. They caught a man just about a month ago trying to take liberties with a woman, and a good thing they did. He's under restraint with a few others that caused some trouble, but still—” Chen paused. “It doesn't seem right to have settlers forced to wear their bracelets every time they go to their work, and having to live in that shack they put up in the main dome for them. I never thought I'd see that here.”
“At least they can stay,” Sef said as he stood up, “and maybe they'll learn something. We heard in the camp about some men who were executed a while back—that's worse.”
“Risa was on our Council then,” Bettina said from the corner. “She was one of those who passed that sentence.” She looked down at the shirt she was mending. “You might as well know—somebody'd tell you that before long, and I can't see that she had too much choice. Whatever some tell you now, there wasn't anybody who spoke against it then, except Malik.”
“Maybe their punishment wasn't worse,” Chen said. “They had a hearing, and their sentence was to be a warning to others. No one ever thought they'd have to make a judgment like that again. I didn't know if the Council was doing the right thing, but now I wonder. A settler'd have to do something pretty bad to die like that, but some of the ones who get restrained now—” The old man gazed at the floor. “It's easier for people to do that, demand it from the Council, even when it's somebody who regrets something and probably wouldn't do it again. It's easier than trusting and finding some other way to make reparation, but it also means giving those people a chance to learn how to hate the rest of us.”
Venus of Shadows Page 32