Venus of Shadows

by Pamela Sargent

  “Don't you want to try for—”

  “Not now.”

  Dyami glanced at his friend. Teo was still staring up at the dome, as if hoping that the clouds he was probably imagining might suddenly appear. It was strange that Teo had so rapidly abandoned their adventure the other night, after daring Dyami into being his accomplice. He had seemed almost as frightened of the patrol as Lucas.

  Dyami pondered the incident. Lately, he had begun to feel that unseen threats lay all around him and that his only protection was in being guarded with others; seeing Lucas with the patrol had given some substance to his vague fears. He had always been reserved, sensing dimly that he had to be. Sef sometimes kidded him about his solemnity, but somehow Dyami knew that he could never be as open and demonstrative as his father was. Only with Teo did he feel he could let down his guard, in spite of his friend's occasional recklessness. Teo was like him in often wanting to be alone, in being more distant from their schoolmates, in feeling that their class discussions were often a waste of time when they could learn just as much from their screens. “They want us to learn how to get along,” Teo had said once, in a tone that implied this was an impossible goal. “That's all those discussions are for.”

  “That uncle of yours,” Teo said then, “the one who's a Habber—maybe he was right.”

  Dyami smiled a little. Teo liked to say startling things, at least to him; he was more careful around other people. “You wouldn't really do that, would you—try to get to a Hab?”

  “I don't know. Maybe I would if I could, but I won't have the chance.”

  “Well, I wouldn't,” Dyami said. “If I could go there for a while and come back, maybe, but—my mother never forgot what her brother did. I think that's the real reason she doesn't want much to do with Habbers.”

  He thought of Bartai. With her black hair and almond-shaped eyes, she looked a little like his mother; her straightforward manner even reminded him of Risa. Maybe that was why he liked her, although Risa wouldn't be happy to have herself compared to a Habber.

  “I don't think we're going to see Bartai,” Dyami said, “and if I don't pick up in my room before Risa gets home, she'll—”

  “Yeah, I know.” Teo sat up. His dark eyes seemed sad as he gazed at Dyami, and then his face brightened. He jumped to his feet. “I'll race you to my house.”

  * * * *

  Dyami kept up a swift pace with his long legs, but the smaller, slighter Teo won the race. He waved a farewell to his friend before heading home. Perhaps Bartai had left a message on the screen; he could not believe that she would leave without saying good-bye to him.

  He could clean his room and still have time with his screen before dinner. On his own, in addition to his schoolwork, he had been learning more about the history of the Project. These lessons were ones Theron would have come to eventually, but Dyami saw no reason not to master them now. Dawud Hasseen, the engineer who had designed the Parasol, was one of his heroes, Dyami had viewed scenes of the Parasol's construction many times, marveling at the calculations and effort that had gone into building it.

  A teaching image named Simon presented these lessons, commented on the visual images, and answered Dyami's questions. Dyami knew that the fair-haired Simon was only an image presented by a cybermind, modeled on a real man who would be leading his life elsewhere, and yet he sometimes felt that the image was his friend. Often, he imagined that he could feel Simon's hand on his shoulder whenever the image praised him for a correct answer, and wondered why he felt more drawn to an image than to his own teacher. Sometimes he daydreamed and saw himself leaving his house to find the real Simon waiting outside. He would imagine Simon's arm around him and the man's deep voice promising to be his friend, but he had never mentioned those daydreams even to Teo; they were another secret he sensed he had to keep.

  As he neared his house, he saw that Eleta was kicking a stone along the path; one of the household's adults must have brought her home from the nursery. He sighed, hoping no one had looked into his messy room. Eleta spun around and ran toward the trees; Chimene was sitting there, watching the child.

  Eleta nestled next to her older sister; Chimene smiled as Dyami approached, “Chen's inside,” she said, “finishing that carving for me. He's asked me to stay for dinner, and he said you helped Kolya make the bread this time—I'm sure it's delicious.”

  He tilted his head. Over the past months, Chimene had gone out of her way to be pleasant, and yet he still felt uneasy during her visits. “You shouldn't come here,” he blurted out.

  She continued to smile. “What a thing to say.”

  “Risa doesn't like it.”

  “She hasn't said so to me.”

  “That's only because everybody else keeps saying she should be nicer to you, but she still doesn't like it.”

  “Well, I guess I understand that,” Chimene said. “Mother's a proud woman—she doesn't like to admit she was wrong.” Dyami disliked it when Chimene called Risa Mother. She drawled the formal term, and her voice was colder when she used it. “But she knows how much I care about all of you, and I think she feels a little warmer toward me now.”

  He studied her face. Everybody was always saying how beautiful his sister was, but her composed expression made him shiver.

  Maybe, he thought, there was something wrong with him. He had only hazy memories of the last time Chimene had lived with them, before she had finished her studies on Island Two and gone to live in ibn-Qurrah; he could not recall much about the preceding years. But during her last stay, she had often helped him with his lessons, played games with him, and acted as an older sister should. He could not think of anything to hold against her, so why did she make him feel strange, as if she were someone he did not really know and around whom he had to be on guard? Maybe it was only that she had been away from this household so much, and he hadn't been able to feel as close to her.

  “Mene,” Eleta said; she had trouble pronouncing her sister's name. “You said we were going to play a game.”

  “And we shall. Why don't you go inside and find the one you want to play and bring it out here?”

  Eleta stood up; Chimene gave her a hug, then gently propelled her toward the door. She turned back to Dyami. “You don't like having me visit, do you?” she asked. He did not answer. “You can be honest with me, Dyami—you don't like having me around. Believe me, I won't get upset if you admit it. You were so young during most of the time I was here, and I was away a lot, and we didn't have the chance to be as close as we might have been, but maybe when you know me better, we can be friends.” Her words made him think she could read his thoughts. “I want you to feel that we will be friends.”

  “You're in Ishtar,” he said. “Risa says that all those times you were living here, you were in it and you didn't tell her—that's why she got mad at you. You lied to her.”

  “I didn't lie. I just didn't tell her everything I was doing. Surely you see why I had to keep it a secret—she wouldn't have understood. But I knew she'd find out someday. It wasn't as if I were going to hide it from her forever—that would have been wrong.” She smiled, showing her perfect teeth. “I'm sure you must have a few secrets of your own you don't share—most children do.”

  He looked down, wondering if she knew anything about the volunteers who had confronted Lucas Ghnassia and what they had wanted with him.

  “Don't you know why I joined Ishtar?” she continued. Her voice sounded gentler; Dyami lifted his head. “I want a world that's better than the one we have now, where no one ever has to feel lost and alone. I want a world in which the barriers that separate people have fallen away, where we can love one another and share what we have freely. Wouldn't you like to live in such a world, one where you'd be at peace with all your brothers and sisters, where you could trust everyone?”

  “You're not supposed to talk about Ishtar here,” Dyami said.

  “I was only trying to explain—I understand your feelings, and Risa's, too. I've had my doubts and I st
ill struggle with them. I wonder whether Ishtar can bring us to something better. But where else can we turn? So many of us have lost sight of what the Project was meant to be. The Island specialists see it as a kind of laboratory—they can't see beyond their own narrow goals. The settlers here think only of giving their children more than they had, even if that means someone else might have less. Surely—”

  Dyami felt the jolt then. He stood still for an instant and then the ground lurched under him, throwing him onto the grass. The trees above him swayed wildly; his hands clawed at the dirt. He heard a sharp crack; Chimene threw herself across him as a branch struck the path. In the distance, someone was screaming.

  He peered over his hands. Across the way, houses swayed, as if they were vessels riding on a sea. He was afraid to look up at the dome, fearing it might begin to crack. Terror welled up inside him; he covered his head.

  The ground was still. He clung to Chimene, then managed to sit up. A wing of one house had collapsed; people were already running toward the wreckage.

  Chimene stumbled up and pulled him to his feet. “Are you all right?” He nodded. His own house was standing; she spun around and hurried toward the door.

  He raced after her. The door opened; apparently it still worked. Chen lay on the floor, his hand around one of his chisels; blood streamed from a gash in his head. Eleta was wailing; he found her in the corridor just outside her room.

  “Dyami!” she cried out. He held her, stroking her hair until her sobs subsided.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked. She shook her head. “It's all right, it was just a quake. We knew it was going to come.” Eleta pressed her lips together and squeezed her eyes shut. “You're safe now.”

  He led her into the common room. Chimene emerged from Bettina's examination room and knelt beside Chen to clean his wound and bandage his head. “Can you walk?” she asked when she was finished.

  “I think so.”

  “You should rest until Tina gets back. I'd better help you outside—there may be an aftershock before long, and you'll be safer there until we know how damaged the house is.”

  She helped the old man up; he leaned against her as they walked toward the door. Dyami followed with Eleta. He glanced at the greenhouse as they moved down the path; cracks marred a few of its panes.

  Chimene settled Chen on a grassy spot away from the trees. A member of the patrol was near another house, tending to a man who seemed injured. “Dyami,” Chimene said, “you have to look out for Chen and Eleta. Somebody else may need help.”

  She left him and hurried up the path. Alarms were wailing. He could see more of the damage now. A tree had fallen onto the roof of one house; another house, only partially built, lay in ruins. Eleta began to cry again; he reached for her.

  * * * *

  During the days that followed the quake, Dyami was too busy to dwell on his new fears. Members of the patrol were organizing the settlers; injured people had to be tended and damage to many of the buildings repaired. Two members of the patrol met the children in the west dome's school; the teachers were needed elsewhere. Some of Dyami's friends, including Teo, were asked to assist the adults who were checking the school to make certain the structure was safe. Others, Dyami among them, helped in clearing away broken tree limbs, rubble, and salvaging anything that could be repaired.

  Two aftershocks shook the dome two days after the quake; the first seemed nearly as severe as the quake itself. Dyami found himself moving over the ground tentatively, expecting it to buckle under him at any time. Most of the houses had been left standing, but a few near the lakeshore had been flooded by water overrunning the banks.

  The screens were filled with statistics about damage and deaths. All of the settlements had felt the quake, but Hasseen, Lyata, and Mtshana, the communities in the south of the Maxwell range, had sustained the most damage; nearly one hundred people had died in those three dome clusters. Oberg, Dyami supposed, had been lucky, with only twenty deaths, while the two domes in the Freyja Mountains were practically unscathed.

  Chen recovered from his head injury after two days of bed rest; only the most severely injured had been taken to the main dome's infirmary. Some of Dyami's neighbors had taken to sleeping outside in tents or unsheltered on mats, but Risa told Dyami there was no need for this. Nikolai and Emilia had checked the house thoroughly, and there would be no danger in staying inside; she explained this very carefully in a calm, measured voice. She did not want her children to give in to their fears, which would only make it harder for them to readjust. They reached a compromise; Sef would stay in Dyami's room for a couple of nights, while Eleta slept with Risa. Dyami gave in, mostly because he did not want Irina mocking him for being afraid.

  Irina and her father Nikolai seemed relatively unaffected by the quake and its aftermath; they were simply grateful that everyone in the household was all right. Some of the other children Dyami knew, after the first shock had passed, seemed almost to welcome the break in their routine and were soon exchanging stories about the adventure. Dyami mimicked the others when he was around them, but when he lay on his bed trying to sleep, all his fears returned. Sometimes he started from his sleep, suddenly terrified that the walls of his room would fall in around him.

  He had always felt safe inside the domes, whatever lay outside. The domes had been built at some distance from the nearest cliff, where boulders might be loosened, but they could withstand falling rocks in any case. Bartai had taught him enough about the domes for him to know that they would remain secure even during the most severe quakes. None of this kept him from imagining that the west dome might be breached, leaving the settlement vulnerable to Venus's deadly air, sulfuric acid rain, and crushing atmospheric pressure.

  The patrol volunteers did their best to reassure the children. The deaths and most severe injuries in Oberg were largely, so they claimed, the result of human carelessness. Heavy equipment had been improperly secured, or people had not pruned potentially dangerous tree limbs near their houses, or neglect during construction had resulted in the collapse of a wall or roof. It was a lesson for the children to heed. Their lives depended on maintaining what was around them and anticipating possible hazards.

  Everyone, even the children, had to be alert to anything out of the ordinary. The volunteers implied that this meant paying attention to anyone who might be acting strangely, as well as to installations and equipment.

  The volunteers encouraged the children to talk about any lingering fears, but Dyami refused to confess any of his. Ishtar's people seemed to be everywhere. Someone wearing the sash always seemed nearby to reassure a household about an injured family member or to help out in other ways. Those in Ishtar moved through Oberg, secure in their faith, untouched by fear.

  * * * *

  A private message from Bartai arrived ten days after the quake; Dyami decided to view it in his room. He found out then why he had not seen her anywhere; she had gone to Island Three the day before the quake, without telling him.

  “Please understand, Dyami.” The strong-boned face that reminded him of Risa's wore a look of concern. “You knew I was leaving, and I thought it'd be best this way. Saying farewell in person might have been more upsetting to you—farewells can be hard. Your family didn't want you to get too attached to me, and I have to respect that—I also didn't want to cause you trouble by having you visit or by coming to your home.”

  You don't want to cause yourself trouble, he thought; that's what you really mean. You couldn't even make a call, you had to send a message.

  “But I'll remember you,” she continued. “I'll remember that a boy in Oberg tried to be a friend to me, at least as much as he was allowed to be. Maybe someday we'll be able to meet as true friends. Farewell.”

  The screen went blank. He should have expected it; Habbers, after all, weren't people like him. Chimene claimed that Habbers had hidden designs on their world. He doubted that any of them cared enough about Cytherians to engage in such plots. They could always leave; h
e would be here forever.

  He left his room and wandered down the corridor. Irina, her brown braid down her back, was sprawled on the floor of the common room, reading a book on her screen. “Bartai's gone,” he said. “I just looked at her message.”

  Irina looked up. “From the Platform?”

  He shook his head. “Island Three.”

  “I guess she's still waiting for a ship then.”

  “Unless she already left,” he said bitterly.

  “You knew she was going. You shouldn't spend so much time with Habbers anyway. Chimene says—”

  “I don't care what she says.”

  Irina scowled. She seemed ready to start one of her arguments with him when Risa entered the house with Eleta. “You're home early,” Irina said.

  “Keep an eye on Eleta,” Risa replied. “I have to call Tina.”

  “Anything important?” Irina asked.

  “ I don't know yet. It might only be rumors.” Risa frowned. “I don't want any of you children to leave the house right now.”

  She went to the wall screen, sat down, and pressed a button on the console near the floor. “Bettina Christies,” she muttered, “at the infirmary. If she isn't available, leave a message telling her to call me as quickly as she can.”

  Dyami moved closer to his mother. Her voice was that low and deliberate only when she was worried. The screen lit up; a large image of Bettina gazed into the room.

  “I hear there's been an outbreak of some kind,” Risa said quickly. “Alasid said something about it at work.”

  The physician nodded. “I may as well tell you now. Gupta and a couple of the other physicians are speaking to the Council, and they'll be making an announcement before dark. We don't want panic, but we have to act.”

  “What is it?”

  “Some of our patients are displaying a disease something like pneumonia, but it's much more severe and rapid in the way it progresses. The Island physicians have already told us that a few pilots on the Platform have come down with the fever, and it's spread to at least two of the Islands.”