“We mourn those who are gone,” Yakov was saying, “but our community survives. We must remember the dead while we go on with the work of the living. May their spirits watch over the world they helped to build.”
Risa bowed her head. When she looked up once more, Yakov had gone to Bettina; he took her hands as he murmured to her. Chimene's lips moved; she seemed to be whispering a prayer.
“I'm sorry,” Malik murmured to Risa. “It's all I can say, but it doesn't seem enough.”
Chen had been so happy to have a scholar in their house; he had taken even more pride in seeing Malik become her bondmate. It all seemed so long ago, part of a brief interval during which Chen had believed that his daughter's future happiness was ensured. She swallowed hard.
The other members of the household were clustered around Yakov; Patrick was closer to the glade, speaking to Chimene. “You're welcome to stay with us until you go back,” Risa managed to say, “unless Chimene—”
“I'll stay with you,” Malik said quickly. “It'll just be for a couple of days. There's no reason for me to stay with Chimene.” His voice sounded cold. “Risa, I have to say this. Maybe you could come to one of the Islands to live, you and Sef and your son. I could speak to Sigurd, see if there might be a place for you. It might be easier than staying here, with your memories.”
“This is my home. I can't leave it, not now, and I don't want any special privilege. Chen wouldn't have wanted that—he'd expect me to stay and go on, the way he did when he lost my mother.”
“I only thought—I worry about what might happen here now.” He was gazing at Chimene. “Even on the Islands, more people are giving credence to those baseless rumors about the Habbers, and Ishtar's benefiting, saying they were right all along.”
“It'll pass.”
“I'm not so sure. Sigurd thinks he can stop the talk by reasoning with people and demanding stricter procedures with new arrivals at Anwara and the Platform so something like this can't happen again. He believes people will be reassured if he points out that we could have prevented this. I don't know if he's being naïve or if he simply sees no alternative.”
Yakov approached them. Malik touched her arm. “I should speak to Kolya.” He went to the others as the Councilor took her hands.
“My sympathies, Risa,” Yakov said. “Your household suffered more than most. I'm sorry I couldn't be more eloquent.”
Her sorrow welled up, mingled with rage at the useless words and pointless deaths. There had been no prayers for her loved ones; Chen had put no faith in prayers. Maybe it would have been easier for her if she had found a faith of some kind.
“You spoke very well,” she managed to respond.
“I also wanted to talk to you.” His voice was lower; she had to strain a little to hear him, even standing so close. “I know this isn't the place, but there isn't much time. Another election comes up in a month, and Ishtar's certain to get at least one of its members on each of the dome Councils. It's not likely I'd win now. Ishtar knows I barely tolerate them, while some of those who dislike the cult think I've shown weakness in dealing with them. Maybe I have, but I didn't think they'd get a chance to get stronger. You could run in my place.”
“It wouldn't work.”
“Do you think they'll still hold a past mistake against you? Many have already forgotten about that. Some probably think you did the right thing every time they pass that detention center and see members of Ishtar trying to save and forgive those wretches. You'd have support, and even Ishtar might have problems working against you, since you are the mother of their new Guide.”
“I suppose you've done some sort of projection,” she said, “to see what my chances are.”
“Projections of a vote can be wrong.”
'They haven't been yet.”
“Times are more uncertain now,” he said. “There are new factors that can't be as easily assessed. What do you want, a guarantee? We'll have to stand against them sooner or later.”
“I know that, Yakov,” she said softly, “but engaging in futile efforts won't help.” That was what it came to, she supposed; she could not let Chimene see that Risa might be her enemy if she was to work against her. She might have to deceive her own daughter in order to fight Ishtar's influence. She felt as though the cult had already poisoned her. “We'll find other ways.”
He bowed a little, then walked away. Risa took a breath, and began to move toward her daughter. “—with the Spirit now,” Chimene was saying to Patrick. “I have to believe that. Even death is no barrier to Ishtar.”
“They weren't believers,” Patrick answered.
“All it takes is one leap to a faith that might have come at any time. Perhaps it came to them in the end. The Spirit doesn't seek to punish but to unite, and feels only sorrow when a soul is lost to Her.”
Chimene would try to infect them even here. Risa gritted her teeth, then extended a hand to her daughter. “I hope you can be with us tonight,” Risa murmured. “Some of our neighbors will be coming by to pay their respects.”
“Then I shall,” Chimene said. “I can attend a meeting near your house and come there afterward. Risa, I—” A troubled look came into her dark eyes, then passed. “I love you. You know that, don't you? I wanted so much to have you see that, but it pains me so deeply that this is what brings us together.”
“You're my child.” A bitter taste filled her mouth. “Nothing can change that.”
Chimene's eyes glowed; a blush rose to her cheeks as Sef led Dyami over to them. Her face was serene now; for a moment, Risa felt as if she were with Kichi Timsen again. She looked away as the Guide clasped Sef's outstretched hands.
THE CAULDRON
Twenty-four
Two women on patrol were standing next to the main road as Chimene left the tunnel, their forms shadowed in the dim light. One of them moved toward her, then hesitated.
“Excuse me,” the woman said. “I didn't realize it was you.”
“Don't apologize,” Chimene responded. “You have every right to wonder why I'm out so late. I was visiting with the parents of a few of my students, and I'm afraid I lost track of the time. I didn't run into anyone on patrol or I would have told them I was heading home, so you could have been informed. You must treat me the same way you would anyone else.”
“Of course.” The woman glanced toward the trees just beyond the road. “Maybe we can walk you home.”
“That won't be necessary. Good evening.”
Chimene crossed the road. As she hurried through the small forest, she heard twigs cracking behind her; apparently the two women had decided to follow her anyway. They were thinking of her safety, she supposed; a woman had been attacked not far from here a few weeks earlier. At the offender's hearing, the man claimed that his victim had enticed him, a statement that had particularly disgusted Chimene. She hated such crimes, infrequent as they were, since they only debased the act through which people showed their love for one another and the Spirit. The man would be in detention for many years now, and he would have to wear an identity bracelet with a tracer. Already he had paid a lot of credit in reparations, but his punishment seemed too mild.
Yet even someone that base could be led to the truth. She had encouraged others to speak to the man about Ishtar, in the hope that he might find enlightenment. When he saw the truth, he would be overcome with remorse for what he had done; that might be a fitting punishment, one he would endure for the rest of his life. She dismissed the man from her thoughts; such offenders troubled the settlements only rarely.
She came to the creek and followed it toward her own house. A neighbor leaving a greenhouse waved at her as she passed. In the eleven years Chimene had been the Guide, Ishtar had achieved more than even Kichi had envisioned. Nearly half of the people in Oberg had joined the fellowship, and the same was the case in the other domed settlements. They had even won a fair number of adherents among the Islanders, although she suspected that some of them were less than fervent in their faith
and only thought it was to their advantage to join. That did not matter; they might come to the truth in time. Those not part of the fellowship seemed content to live with Councils dominated by Ishtar's members, and why shouldn't they? The patrol protected them, and many of them sympathized with Ishtar's dreams of peace and freedom.
The Cytherians had also not forgotten the unhappy events of 615 and the fever that had taken so many lives. Chimene's first important act as the Guide had been to pressure Administrator Sigurd into removing all Habbers from the Maxwell Mountains, an action he had agreed to out of concern for the safety of the Habbers there. The only Habbers remaining on the surface were in Turing, the two-domed settlement in the Freyja range.
Sigurd probably saw this as a temporary concession, but it was only a first step. She was determined to see Habbers expelled from Turing and the Islands and to rid her world of their insidious influence. They thought they could rule here; they would learn better. Then it might be necessary to deal with Sigurd, who believed Chimene could be appeased with a few kind words and favors. Perhaps he was still so besotted with his Habber woman that he could not see how Tesia's people were using him while pretending to be his friends.
Chimene pressed her lips together. Sigurd spoke to her as though she were a child to placate and dismiss. He thought he could control her; he would learn.
But such musings were unworthy of a Guide. She should be thinking of what was in the interests of her people, not of personal resentments. Sigurd was useful; when he no longer was, and another held his place, maybe the loss of his power would leave him more able to find the right way.
She walked up the path to her door. A few neighbors or some of the pilots from the dormitory usually visited in the evening, but they would be gone by now. She did not expect to find anyone in the common room, but Matthew and Boaz were still up, reclining on mats in the center of the large room, a pot of tea between them.
“You're late again,” Boaz said with a smile. “Everyone else, except for Eva, is already asleep.”
“I had to speak to some parents. They wanted to know about some additional tutoring for their children.”
“I hope one of your colleagues can handle it,” Matthew said. “You work hard enough as it is.”
“No more than anyone else.”
Eva entered the room with a small tray of fruit; Chimene seated herself on a mat. Boaz handed her a cup of tea; she sipped, savoring the taste of the mint and herbs.
“I've been thinking,” Boaz murmured. “Maybe you should consider giving up your work as a teacher. It wouldn't be that difficult to find another to take your place.”
“I couldn't do that,” she said. “We all have to work. What kind of an example would that set?”
“I'm considering what's best for Ishtar. You have to get up early if you want to see any of your pupils before school, spend time on your own screen lessons, and see the children or their parents afterward, in addition to assessing their progress and recommending what they might pursue later. It might not be such a strain if you didn't have your duties to Ishtar as well.”
“I'm a teacher,” Chimene said firmly. “I was told I had the aptitude, and I chose the work—I made a commitment.”
“You also made a commitment to your brothers and sisters. If you weren't teaching, you'd have more time to travel to the other settlements and the Islands, to speak directly to our members there—they value such contacts with the Guide. You could devote more attention to Council matters when we Councilors need your advice. You could make more efforts to win others to our fellowship.”
“I can't give up my work.”
Boaz sighed. “You wouldn't be giving up work—you'd be doing other work. You can always join one of the community greenhouse teams—that would satisfy your obligation to the Project and leave you with more time than you have now. With what the rest of us earn and the contributions we're given, our household would have enough credit.”
Chimene shook her head. “I can't see how it'd benefit Ishtar if people see the Guide ignoring some of her obligations.”
Boaz touched her arm lightly. “I was only thinking of you, Chimene.”
He was thinking of her; he said that so often, usually when he was telling her what to do. He advised her on what to say to Sigurd, which people should be seen more often, and whom to avoid. As one of Oberg's elected Councilors, Boaz often settled some problems without consulting with her; that too was allegedly in her interest, so that she wouldn't be unduly distracted. She had grown to rely on both him and Matthew, who almost always agreed with Boaz; they had eased her insecurity during her first years as the Guide.
At times, however, their solicitude seemed a barrier separating her from others. She was beginning to wonder if she depended too much on their advice.
“It's your decision,” Matthew said. “Anyway, that isn't the only thing we wanted to discuss with you now. We've been biding our time long enough about those Habbers on the Islands and in Turing. Some are saying that by continuing to ignore what they did in the past, we make it more likely that they'll tighten their grip on our world. We should rid ourselves of their presence once and for all.”
“I spoke to Administrator Alim ibn-Sharifjust a little while ago.” Boaz's dark eyes narrowed as he spoke. “He says more of the Islanders are getting impatient. They know things can't remain this way, with the Project stalled and Sigurd hoping that we'll eventually forget what an affront the presence of Habbers here is. Habbers are cowards—they can work only through guile and deceit, not with force. If they see they're no longer welcome anywhere here, they'll retreat quickly enough.”
Eva set down her cup. “I'm not sure we should be so anxious to expel the Habbers soon.”
“Their agreement with the Project states that they can remain here only as long as they're welcome,” Matthew replied. “If we held any kind of a referendum now, a majority would vote to be rid of them, and even Sigurd would have to abide by that or else show himself to be one of their minions openly. Do you think the Habbers would stand against such a decision? They haven't shown themselves to be all that brave in the past, and if they tried to defy us, a few threats against those here would change their minds. Their unnaturally long lives have made them weak—they cling to all those years stretching ahead of them.”
“I wasn't thinking of what the Habbers might do,” the blond woman said. “Having them in Turing serves our purpose for the moment.”
That was true, Chimene thought. Boaz and Matthew had seen the possibilities the domed settlement in the Freyja Mountains presented. Even with the delays that had slowed work there, the mining and refining center was providing the other settlements with some needed materials, and another facility was producing ceramics that would be an improvement over the ones now used in various installations.
Yet this was less important than what Turing had come to represent. Some settlers still welcomed the prospect of working with the Habbers. Turing was a place without patrols, a settlement that attracted those who found Ishtar's growing power burdensome, and several people had applied to be sent there.
Chimene had not been pleased by this state of affairs, but Boaz had convinced her of the wisdom of leaving Turing alone. “Let the discontented gather there,” he had argued. “Let them imagine that Habbers can be their friends. It'll lull the Habbers, and also show us exactly who the most recalcitrant people are—people who would otherwise be here to spread their discontent. Let them think they're safe there, and when the time comes to do something about them, we'll know exactly where many of our potential enemies are.”
She had conceded the point, although she had not cared for the reference to other settlers as their enemies. Habbers were enemies; other Cytherians were simply people who had not yet seen the truth. Allowing some of them more contact with Habbers was only a temporary measure; when they lost their Habber friends and saw how easily they would be abandoned, they might grow more receptive to Ishtar.
She frowned. It had b
een easier to consider the matter objectively before Dyami had gone to work in Turing. That her own brother could wound her in that way—
Chimene steadied herself. Dyami had never warmed to her even after the rest of Risa's household had made their peace with Chimene. Risa remained somewhat distant, but at least she was polite; she had even tolerated Sef's becoming a member of Ishtar. Chimene sensed that Sef was not terribly devout, but he and Nikolai had taken that first step, and the others in the household were always friendly to her when she visited them. Only Dyami insisted on carrying an unspoken and unspecified grudge against her.
“You know,” Boaz was saying to Eva, “that we never intended to leave Turing alone indefinitely.”
“If and when the Habbers leave,” Eva said, “Earth may see it as a chance to act, and we'll need Earth's help then to push forward. The Mukhtars are not going to aid us purely out of the goodness of their hearts, especially now that a Guardian Commander has a place among them. They'll demand more control over us. Our people won't be very happy about that.”
“Eva's right,” Chimene said, “much as I hate to admit it. I want the Habbers expelled, but not at the price of bowing to Earth later.”
Boaz lifted his head. “It's possible to deal with Earth. The Habbers may seem indifferent to us now, but you know what they think of Ishtar. We mustn't allow them to subvert misguided Cytherians and try to win them over to their inhuman ways. Kichi knew that we might be forced to deal with Earth eventually, repugnant as that is. The Spirit isn't well served by pointless acts of defiance. Coming to some sort of arrangement soon may help us keep what we're trying to build, and it would be only a temporary agreement until we have the power to stand alone. We could make a few concessions to Earth as long as the Mukhtars don't interfere with our fellowship. We have enough influence now to convince most Cytherians that Earth is no real threat to our eventual goals.”
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