“Administrator Sigurd's still seeing that Habber woman,” Chimene said. She had met Tesia a couple of times, and although the woman had addressed Sigurd only in formal language, Chimene had not been fooled. She had seen how Tesia's face softened a little when she looked at Sigurd, as if she were sure of her hold on his affections. “But maybe that isn't the same,” she continued. “People keep saying it's just an amusement, that she doesn't really mean anything to him.”
“Sigurd has done much for this Project,” Kichi said, “but now, I fear, he's beginning to see himself as a ruler. It's a disease, in a way, to see yourself as that. He thinks he can't be touched, that he can do as he likes, and his example leads others to act in the same way.”
Chimene thought of her father and how he went to Habbers. They wanted to take him away from her; she could not escape that feeling. He often told her how much could be learned from the Habbers, who were probably only trying to use him; they had to know Malik had not joined the Project as willingly as others.
“Sigurd may be forgetting that he's only another Cytherian,” Kichi went on, “and that his loyalty must lie with that. It's the disease of rulers, to consider themselves above the obligations that bind the people they rule. It's why we must all strive to become brothers and sisters and have no more rulers.”
Chimene glanced around the room, imagining what Risa would say about these quarters, which were nearly as comfortable as Sigurd's room. Kichi's room was almost three times as large as other bedrooms, and it even had a low table around which several people could sit. “But aren't you kind of like a ruler yourself?” she asked.
Lena rolled her gray eyes. “Oh, Chimene.”
The Guide smiled, apparently unperturbed. “I'm only the Guide,” she said softly. “I have no privileges, only responsibilities to my brothers and sisters in Ishtar. I have nothing that isn't shared with others. I have no possessions, only objects that I use in service to Ishtar and which belong to all of us. I and those closest to me try to live as all Cytherians will someday, and often that is difficult even now. There is always the fear of affronting the Spirit or the temptation to erect barriers around oneself, instead of reaching out to all Cytherians.”
“But if we're all supposed to be brothers and sisters,” Chimene persisted, “then why are there some people Ishtar doesn't want?”
Kichi tilted her head. “I don't know what you mean. Ishtar welcomes all who are ready to become true Cytherians.”
“You know.” Chimene's cheeks felt warm; she lowered her eyes. “Men who like other men too much or women who—”
“Oh, Chimene!” Lena burst out. “What a question!”
Kichi raised a hand. “Lena, being open to others also means sharing one's doubts and questions so that they can be answered. Chimene does no wrong by asking—anyone who truly seeks the truth must ask. Some of those closest to me had grave doubts once, and even I have doubted.” She rested her arm in her lap. “Your friend deserves a reply. Lena, tell us what the obligations of a man and a woman are to Ishtar.”
Lena scratched her head. “Well, the woman has to be open to the Spirit of our world, which we're transforming, and the man seeks to appease that Spirit and be united with it. The man's like the sun that'll shine on Venus again, and the woman's like the planet that'll receive the light. As children come from a woman's body, life comes from a planet, but the man's seed, like the sun's rays, makes that life possible.”
The brown-haired girl let out her breath. “Go on,” Kichi said.
“By changing Venus now, we're restoring this world to what it would have been if the heat of the sun hadn't changed it, but we also have to make ourselves what we once were before we were led astray. Women must remember that they carry life, and men that they give it, and if they forget, their world will become like the growing desert in their souls.”
“Very good, Lena,” the Guide said. “And what about our most important rite, the one in which you'll participate when you're older?”
“The man and the woman have to come together without barriers and be united in Ishtar. They have to reach out to each other and the Spirit in love. The man sees the woman as all women, all of his sisters and the Spirit, and the woman embraces all men through him.”
“Some,” Kichi said, “many, in fact, can share themselves during this rite only with a bondmate or with others who are close. They haven't yet reached the point where they can share themselves willingly with all their brothers or sisters, as those closest to me strive to do. Yet we accept that. We understand that many aren't ready to share themselves more freely, but at least they've taken a step along the road that will lead us to unity and convergence with our planet's Spirit.” Her eyes focused on Chimene. “So why do you say that there are those we don't welcome?”
“But there are,” Chimene responded, “the ones I mentioned.”
The Guide shook her head. “We welcome all. I know that some in Ishtar's fellowship say that such people can't truly be part of us, but they're wrong—even our brothers and sisters can sometimes not glimpse the truth clearly. There's nothing to prevent anyone from becoming one of us and sharing our rite.”
“But then if these people join,” she said, “and have meetings and believe in Ishtar and practice the rite when they're supposed to, why should it matter what they do in their beds the rest of the time?”
“Ishtar must be a part of one's life,” the Guide replied. “It isn't like going to a mosque or a church and living the way one likes at other times. It's why we always meet in our homes, instead of in some building apart from the place where we conduct our lives. Every good action brings one closer to the Spirit, and every evil deed separates one from Her. One must ask of everything one does whether it will affront the Spirit. Men who cannot share themselves with a woman and women who cannot go to a man are affronts to Ishtar. The men separate themselves from the Spirit that reaches out to them through a woman, and the women refuse to accept the offering a man must make. Such people can become part of Ishtar only if they give up their former practices, but when they do, we welcome them.”
“But if you want to get rid of barriers between people—” Chimene bit her lip; perhaps she should not be questioning Kichi about this. She did not want the Guide to become angry with her. But she had never scolded Chimene before. “I mean, isn't that making another barrier, telling a man he can't love another man that way?”
“It's those people who create a barrier,” Kichi said, “not us. No life can come from such acts, which only lead those who perform them to think that they can transcend all natural limits. It is an error that Habbers make in other ways.”
Chimene pondered this. The settlers already did not accept certain limits; the Guide herself was hardly likely to refuse her rejuvenation therapy. Their children's genes were scanned not long after conception, with genetic transplants made if needed in order to prevent physical disabilities. In certain cases, people could appeal for the use of ectogenetic chambers for the gestation of fetuses; her own mother would never have been born without such tools.
It was not possible for life to result when two people of the same sex joined, but the same could be said of sex between a man and a woman if they did not have their contraceptive implants removed. Biological techniques could also give children to those who loved their own sex, although no settler had yet risked public disapproval by making such a request. Some regions of Earth might accept such practices, but Earth was not an example the settlers cared to emulate. Habbers probably saw nothing wrong with such things either, but that was yet another argument against them.
Anyway, she already knew what Kichi would say if she raised these issues. Ishtar could accept technologies that furthered natural ends; these included medical techniques and also the technologies needed to terraform Venus, since they were directing the planet along a course it might have taken. But they disapproved of any technique that risked severing people from nature altogether. All technologies, in the end, were only temporary me
ans to be used until the day when they could free themselves altogether and live as the sisters and brothers they were meant to be, in harmony with their planet's Spirit.
Chimene knew all of this, and yet it did not seem fair that some should be scorned because they could show love only in certain ways. She felt some sympathy for them because she knew how it felt to be mocked. Maybe she had simply been on the Islands too long, where people were slightly more tolerant of such foibles.
“I understand how you feel,” Kichi said. “We are all the descendants of people who practiced many different customs and who must be tolerant here. Your kind feelings for others are a mark in your favor, Chimene, but kindness shouldn't be misplaced.”
Kichi's eyes held her; she could not look away. The Guide, she felt, could see her thoughts and answer all her doubts. The Guide understood.
“The Spirit demands love, and love is often hard.” The soft, mellow voice seemed to surround Chimene. “Love makes demands. A parent who truly loves a child must sometimes demonstrate that what the child wants may be wrong. A friend who loves a friend will try to keep that friend from injuring herself. Some people here say that it doesn't matter what one believes or does in certain situations, and call that tolerance, but what it means is that they don't really believe in anything. When one grasps the truth, shouldn't that truth be shared? If you know the truth and tell yourself that others should be free to live in error, aren't you only putting a wall between yourself and them?”
Chimene did not reply.
“Someday you may see the truth for yourself, and then everything will be clear to you. You won't feel uncertain and lost. You'll understand that guiding others to the truth is the highest form of love.”
Chimene looked away, breaking the spell. Much as she loved and admired Kichi, she did not know if she could ever really believe in Ishtar's way. She wanted to live in the kind of world the Guide spoke of, where all would be brothers and sisters, but she did not know if she could ever believe in a Spirit. Maybe she only wanted to be with people who would make her feel that she belonged.
Kichi stood up and helped the girls to their feet. “I'm happy you both came here.”
“Thank you for letting us come,” Lena said.
“Chimerie, you should go to your household now—your mother will be anxious to see you.”
Chimene smiled, wishing again that Risa and Kichi could be friends. The Guide never said anything cruel about Risa; it was Risa's fault that she had to sneak here and lie about where she had gone.
“I'll invite you both again soon.” Kichi opened the door and led them down the hall to the exit.
* * * *
Lena was silent until they reached the main road. “The Guide really likes you,” she said at last.
“She likes you, too.”
“But I think you're the one she really wants to see.”
Chimene glanced at her friend. “Does that bother you?”
“No. It's nice that she wants to talk to us, and I respect her, but I don't know if I'd have that much to say by myself. After all, I'm only in Ishtar because my parents and my aunt and uncle decided to join, so it doesn't mean the same thing to me.”
“But you must believe in it,” Chimene said.
“I guess I do. I try to anyway. There can't be anything wrong with wanting everybody to be happy and share things and get along.” Lena had slipped into her usual slightly mocking tone. “Anyway, the Guide says it's all right to wonder and ask questions, so she'd probably say I'm fine as long as I try to walk the road to the truth.”
“I don't know how much I could ever believe,” Chimene murmured. “Maybe that's because Chen and Risa never had a religion, and Malik—well, he says his prayers sometimes, but they don't mean that much to him.” Nothing, she thought, seemed to mean much to her father lately. The Guide would consider him steeped in sin, with his occasional Habber women and the emotional distance he kept between himself and other people. “Anyway, I can't join Ishtar. Risa would never let me.”
“You've got your rights, Chimene. It's not like you're a little child.”
“If I joined, though, she'd probably ask for a hearing and make it look as if I'm not mature enough yet to make up my mind. I couldn't stand that.” It would be hard enough to renew old friendships without that; the other children would already be watching to see how many Islander airs she had picked up.
“Don't worry about it,” Lena said. “You can join when you're older if you want, and she can't do a thing then. Anyway, you're home now—bet you're looking forward to seeing Sef again. I mean, you do still like him, don't you?”
Chimene flushed. “What's that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, come on—I've got eyes. I saw how it was the last time you were home—you used almost any excuse to be around him.”
Could she have been so obvious? No, she told herself, she couldn't have been; if she had, Patrick wouldn't have missed such a fruitful opportunity to make fun of her. “I suppose I do like him,” she said casually, “but that's just because he's sort of like having a brother or an uncle, that's all.”
“Well, it's a good thing you like him because it looks like he'll be staying in your household for a while. Grazie told my mother that they were getting ready to draw up an agreement with him so he could be a permanent member of the household.”
“Really?” Chimene tried to hide her joy.
“Didn't they tell you?” Lena shrugged. “Maybe they wanted to wait until you were home.” She turned around, stepped into the road, then motioned to Chimene. “Cart's coming—let's ride to our tunnel.” The passenger cart rolled to a stop; the two girls climbed aboard.
An older woman, a friend of Lena's household, quickly drew the brown-haired girl into conversation. Chimene leaned back in her seat, wanting to indulge in some daydreaming. Sef would be staying with Risa's household, which meant that he hadn't yet been lured by some young woman into joining her household or building a house of his own, a possibility Chimene had feared. Maybe he intended to wait until he was older to find a mate, until he had more credit and had established himself here.
Her daydream was formless and vague. She imagined herself as a woman, sitting with Sef under the trees outside the house as he embraced her and words of love fell from his lips. He would tell her that he had loved her for years and had been waiting for the right moment to speak of his longing for her. He would confess that he had remained with Risa's household hoping for this time. She saw herself standing with him in the common room, making her pledge with the rest of the household as witnesses.
How could she possibly go back to the Islands now? She would have to find a reason to stay without revealing her feelings. On the other hand. Sef might miss her if she went away again and appreciate her more when she returned, when she was older and could drop a few hints about how she felt. She did not want to think of obstacles; she would discover a way to be with him.
* * * *
She and Lena parted at the end of the path that led to Risa's house. Chimene noticed then that Risa's wing had been expanded; no one had told her about that either. But since Sef would be staying here, he would want to have his own quarters, and now that Chimene had arrived, he could not use her room.
Her footsteps slowed; maybe Sef had already forgotten her. She glanced at the greenhouse; through the misty windows, she saw the tall broad-shouldered shape of a man.
She pressed her hand against the palm-print lock; the door opened. Sef was leaning over a tier of spinach, a basket at his feet. She walked toward him, then said, “Greetings, Sef.”
He straightened and dropped his trowel. “Chimene!” He was smiling as he held out his arms. “You're taller.”
“A little.”
“And even prettier, I see.”
He was happy to see her! She hurried toward him and hugged him as his strong arms closed around her.
* * * *
The entire household was in an unusually festive mood; even Patrick seemed glad C
himene was home. Risa arrived a few moments after Chimene had unpacked her duffel in her old room.
“I saw Lena Kerein on my way home,” Risa said as Chimene entered the common room. “She said she met you at the bay. I suppose you two were wandering around in the main dome again.” Chimene nodded. “I hope she wasn't telling you a lot of foolishness about Ishtar, now that her household are members.”
“Don't bother yourself about that,” Grazie said as she set a plate of vegetables on the table. “They wear their faith fairly lightly, from what I can tell. Roberto Kerein told me just the other day that it's the ideals that appeal to him—not the mysticism.”
Risa seemed content to drop the subject. Chimene studied her mother as they sat down around the table. Risa's cheeks were pink, and her dark eyes glowed; she looked, Chimene admitted to herself, extremely pretty. She also seemed a little distracted. She nearly dropped one of the dumplings Sef had made while serving herself, then giggled as her eyes met Bettina's.
“Sefs decided to stay with us,” the physician said.
“I know,” Chimene replied, “Lena told me.”
“Her family heard it from Grazie, I'll bet.” Paul looked at his bondmate affectionately. “I always say that when you want to send a message, Grazie's quicker than using the screen.”
Grazie laughed. “I didn't say anything I shouldn't have said.”
“I hope you're happy about it,” Sef said, “now that you're going to be here longer.”
“Of course I am,” Chimene said. Her cheeks were growing warm; she looked away from Sef's gold-flecked brown eyes.
“Maybe you won't turn into a gasbag after all,” Patrick muttered.
The others were soon filling Chimene in on recent Oberg gossip. She listened, trying to look attentive. Bettina kept casting conspiratorial glances in Risa's direction, as though the two had a secret. Only Emilia, stolid as always as she fed her daughter, Irina, from a small bowl, seemed untouched by the cheery mood around her.
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