Venus of Shadows

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Venus of Shadows Page 61

by Pamela Sargent


  She did not believe that Mukhtar Kaseko had actually planned to seize the Platform, now that she could reflect on this threat. A siege of that sort would have cost Earth too much. The Mukhtar had probably only been trying to impress Alim with his ruthlessness before agreeing to what might have been his own plan all along—letting Alim's people and those closest to the Guide prepare the Cytherians for the new order. She would have to assess this Mukhtar when they met and try to see exactly what he might be willing to do.

  She was sure of one thing. If the Mukhtar found reason to distrust her or felt that she was unwilling to cooperate, she would probably not live to betray him. A way could be found to explain her death; a more malleable Guide could take her place—perhaps Lakshmi, a young girl who could easily be guilded by Boaz. Many people already assumed that Chimene was training the girl as a possible successor.

  She felt a queer, disembodied fear; it hovered above her, unable to grip her yet with its icy talons but ready to pounce. She was thinking of how Boaz had brought Lakshmi to their house, of all the discussions with Alim that Boaz had mentioned to her only afterward, of all the duties he had so willingly taken upon himself so that she would not be troubled. Perhaps he had been preparing for a time when she was no longer necessary.

  She gazed into Boaz's eyes. He was an obstacle now, but she could not let him see that she viewed him that way. “You've loved me,” she said. He would expect her to seem grieved and despairing. “You've advised me when I was unable to see what might bring our people closer to the right way. You've told me things I had to know but didn't want to hear, and then you've consoled me and given me back my strength. But I don't know if I can face what you've just told me.” Her reluctance was something else he would expect. “The Spirit is silent in me now. I cannot know Her will. I am trying to see how what you've told me will lead to the perfect state that awaits all Cytherians, and I don't know if I can.”

  He took her hand. “Let me help you now,” he said. “This is as hard for me to bear as it is for you—perhaps harder because I feel I may have failed you. I knew some of Alim's fears about what the Mukhtar's visit might indicate, and I didn't share them with you—I kept telling myself he was mistaken. I think I sense what the Spirit would have us do now. We must preserve our world however we can. We will be stronger later.”

  “When our people learn what the Mukhtar intends,” Eva said, “they may take this matter into their own hands. They'll feel betrayed, and they may resist even if they know they can't win. They may turn against us.”

  “That's why they mustn't know of this yet,” Matthew replied. “All they'll hear for now is that Earth will be aiding us more, and that Mukhtar Kaseko is concerned about the Project's progress. We'll have time to prepare them by pointing out the possible benefits of closer ties to Earth so that hearing they're going to be part of a new Nomarchy won't come as too great a shock.”

  “We'll also root out any potential troublemakers,” Boaz added. “The patrol has questioned some in a few of the settlements, people who enjoy gathering in secret to murmur against us. Our patrol hasn't learned much, but others are clearly directing those malcontents and looking for ways to strike out at us. We'll find the ones behind it all, and they will regret their lack of faith with those others in Turing.”

  “I see,” Eva said. “I suppose there's nothing else to be done. We can't stand against Earth alone. We can quiet any grumbling by removing the most troublesome—the others would fall into line then. If our sisters and brothers know that Earth will allow us to practice our faith and keep our dream of being freer in the future, they'll see that their Guide acted wisely. And perhaps the Mukhtars’ representatives here will be so moved by our faith and by Chimene's future efforts on our behalf, that we'll win some of them to the right way. After all, we can be free inside ourselves. It doesn't matter if Earth calls us their world.” The blond woman's face was composed. Chimene could not tell if Eva's words were sincere, or if her friend was also cloaking fear and anger.

  “Leave me,” Chimene said. “I want to be alone with Boaz now.” Matthew got up, reached for his spear and helped Eva to her feet. Chimene caught a glimpse of a Guardian in the hall before the door slid shut behind them.

  “Hold me,” she said to Boaz. He would expect her to seek his comfort now, to cling to him, question him, and then allow him to persuade her that she had to give in. By depending on him, by sharing her doubts and fears with him, she had let him see her as weak and easily led. She had needed him after Kichi's death; she should have freed herself of him long ago.

  His arms were around her. She would let him make love to her before she told him she would heed his advice. Strangely enough, she felt more love for him now that she understood how deeply he had fallen into error. She was still his Guide; she would find a way to bring him back to her truth.

  * * * *

  Two Guardians stepped aside; the door to the meeting room opened. Chimene was wearing her dagger under her sash; she was expecting this meeting to be somewhat anti-climactic, now that she knew why the Mukhtar was here.

  At the far end of the room, several Linkers, all clad in their formal white robes, sat on red cushions. The men wore their headdresses; the women had covered their hair with long white scarves. Kaseko Wugabe was sitting in a chair in the middle of the group; his broad face was nearly as dark as the black uniform he wore under his open white robe. Two uniformed Guardians stood at his sides; a slim golden-haired woman, also wearing a Guardian's uniform, sat in a chair near his. Behind them, a wide screen displayed an image of Venus's Parasol. The planet was hidden; the umbrella's vast panels reflected the light of the sun.

  “Salaam, Mukhtar Kaseko,” Administrator Alim said, then bowed, touching his forehead; Chimene and her companions did the same. The Mukhtar touched the Linker's jewel on his own forehead but did not speak. “It is my hope, God willing, that your stay will be most pleasant. It is a great honor for us to have you here, and we hope that you will take pleasure in being so near the world that is, after all, the fruit of an Earthman's dream.”

  “Salaam.” Kaseko waved one hand languidly. “Come forward.”

  Alim led the group toward the empty cushions in front of the Mukhtar, then bowed again as Chimene and the others seated themselves. “In the Name of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful,” the Administrator murmured, “Whose Hand guides us all.” He lowered his plump body to one of the scarlet cushions. “May He guide us now.”

  “I invoke the Spirit,” Chimene said then, “Whose love encompasses all who dwell on Her world, Who reflects their dreams and is Herself a reflection of them.”

  “God's will be done,” Kaseko said. He stared down at her coldly with his dark brown eyes. “We shall dispense with more formalities.” He gestured at the people closest to him. “I won't introduce the new members of the Project Council here—you'll be learning their names soon enough.” He held out a hand to the uniformed blond woman. “This is Commander Johanna Wulf, my aide, my companion, and my closest adviser. She is also in command of the Guardians who have accompanied us—I trust her patience will not be tested. I've viewed the records of these people, Administrator Alim, so you needn't introduce them either. I'll be speaking for my people. Much as I would prefer the subtleties of Arabic, Anglaic is more useful for precision, and I do not want to be misunderstood. I should also use a language your companions can understand.”

  Chimene tried to ignore the comment, which seemed intended to mock their lack of learning. “The Guide has some familiarity with Arabic,” Alim said.

  “Learned from her father, no doubt, disgraced scholar that he was.” Another insult; the man seemed intent on belittling her. Kaseko smiled. “But his daughter, I am sure, will erase any memory of his shame.” He leaned forward. “Very well, Chimene Liang-Haddad. You know why I'm here. When I joined the Guardians, and learned the true reasons Earth had backed away from a battle here, I knew that my mission was to restore our honor. I did not come here to heap further humil
iation on Earth and its people by telling you this world will be yours. But Alim has told me that you are a reasonable woman, and that your people have great love for you. If God wills, it is my hope that we can work together. I remain grateful that your influence with your people led the Habbers to depart, even though you were thinking of your ends and not mine. I do not intend to interfere with your duties as Guide of your cult or with the spiritual life of your followers—that is, if you are actually as reasonable as Alim claims.” His deep voice was so resonant that he might have been using an amplifier.

  “I must be honest,” Chimene replied. “I was sorrowful when I learned your true reasons for coming here. I had believed that the Spirit—” She paused deliberately, forcing herself to keep her eyes on his face. “But I won't speak of the Spirit. As real as Her presence is to me, you do not share my faith. I'll speak of my people. We need your aid even more, now that the Habbers are gone, and must accept your conditions for giving it. Those closest to me have convinced me that we must bow to you, much as I struggled against that. I'll do what I can, but—” She waited.

  Kaseko tapped his fingers against the arms of his chair. “But what?” he said at last.

  “My people may not give in easily. Many will want to fight this, even if they know they must lose, and it will cost you much to subdue them.”

  The Mukhtar leaned back. “You're constantly bombarding them with your inspirational little talks. You supposedly have a patrol that answers to you. You have ways to bring them around to an acceptance of the new order.”

  “Even many on the patrol would object to this.”

  “Then you had better see that they don't. If you can't serve my interests, I'll be forced to find someone who can.” He folded his arms. “Let me tell you what lies in store for your people if they resist—it will give you an additional incentive to do my bidding. If they resist, we'll disable or destroy the Platform. That will be the end of anything your people can do against us.”

  “You'd be condemning a whole world,” Chimene whispered. “You'd just be throwing the Project away. That would gain you nothing.”

  “But the Project would not end. The atmosphere could still be seeded with algae, and Venus would continue to cool in the Parasol's shadow. The geological processes begun by our terraforming efforts would go on. All that would end is one phase of the Project, a perhaps misguided attempt to settle this planet at an earlier stage. We would retain the knowledge we've gained about terraforming, and we could then direct our resources to using that knowledge for Earth's benefit, which was one of the reasons for beginning the Project in the first place. Venus would be settled again eventually but only by people who will bow to us.”

  “Earth may not stand by and let you watch a world die.”

  “Do you care to test that?” Kaseko's voice had risen a little. “Earth is subject to my will now. What the people there think depends on what they learn, and I am in charge of that. They can be told it was your people who destroyed the Platform in a suicidal gesture of defiance, that it was those you call Cytherians who condemned their fellows to a long wait for a prolonged death. I think we can make them believe that—your own grandmother died trying to prevent a similar action. Earth will feel pity for those sorry multitudes, and disgust for the leaders who failed them. We will of course make an effort to rescue those we can, but it may be too late for many. That will be your legacy—death, and exile from this world for the few who might be lucky enough to be saved.”

  He could not mean it; he was only trying to frighten her. His gaze was steady; she saw no mercy in his eyes. A man who made too many empty threats would not be in his position; she wondered how many he had pushed aside during his climb to power.

  “It won't come to that,” Chimene said softly. “I wouldn't wish such a fate on my brothers and sisters.”

  “I'm pleased to hear it. I'll give you a couple of months to prepare your people for the inevitable and to point out the benefits of closer ties with Earth. I advise you to silence as many potential dissenters as you can by any means you choose in the meantime. After that, you will announce my intention to visit your Islands, at which time my aide and her Guardians will secure the Platform. We'll make the nature of our agreement public then, and you will keep it a secret for now. The new Project Council, with Alim's Administrators, will make all decisions regarding Venus, and our Guardians will supervise your patrols. Alim will be free to consult with you, and you may keep your little cult. Are we agreed?” Kaseko's smile widened. “But of course we are. You have the look of a woman who's used to comforts and the idolatry of those who adore her. You're not the sort who would martyr herself in a hopeless cause.”

  “We're agreed.” She bowed her head. Her right hand was near the dagger under her sash; she might be able to get to him before she was stopped. He could pay for his arrogance with his life, and all Cytherians would see her as a heroine. No, she thought; that wasn't the way. Such an act would win no victory for the Spirit.

  The Mukhtar was speaking to Alim now. Kaseko had underestimated her. He was counting on an easy victory; she would see that he had no victory at all. She did not have to keep his plans secret; the Platform could be secured before his Guardians landed. He would lose some of his power over the Council of Mukhtars if others on Earth saw that he was leading them into a costly battle; he might be forced to withdraw. If he did not, then surely it was better for Cytherians to die fighting; the Spirit would expect that sacrifice. The defiance of a world could bring down the Mukhtar. The martyrdom of the Cytherians would unite all of her people with Ishtar.

  Thirty-one

  One line, written in crude black Anglaic letters, had been added to the inscription on the monument to Iris Angharads and Amir Azad. Under “They rest forever on the world they helped to build,” someone had written: “Where the Guide and her followers now trouble their long sleep.”

  Chimene glared at the monument, trembling with fury, then turned toward one of the three patrolwomen trailing her. “I want this removed immediately,” she muttered, “and I want you to find out who dared to deface this pillar.” Eva reached for her arm as Josefa moved closer to her. The patrolwomen stared back at her uncertainly. “Now!”

  “We'll have to summon a maintenance worker,” one woman replied. “Those letters won't come off easily, and we wouldn't want to mar—”

  “Then summon somebody.” Chimene glanced toward the other memorial pillars, where five people were laying a wreath at the base of one column. “In the meantime, you can search that group and find out if any of them has materials that might have been used to do this.”

  One woman spoke quickly into her wrist communicator; then the three moved toward the five mourners. Chimene led her two housemates toward the nearby wall.

  “We'd better stay within sight of our guards,” Eva said. “They are supposed to be protecting us.”

  “Protecting us!” Chimene shook her head. Ever since she and her party had returned to Oberg a week ago, members of the patrol were almost always at her side whenever she left her house. They waited by her door and outside the houses of those she visited; they even stood at her side during meetings to watch the crowd of worshippers. It was Boaz's doing; he claimed that he wanted her safe from the few malcontents who might threaten her. Instead, she felt as though she was being watched.

  “For all we know,” Josefa said, “a member of the patrol might have defaced the monument. You'll probably never find out who did it.”

  Chimene gazed through the dome at the darkness outside. Walls surrounded her now, separating her even from those closest to her. Most of her household seemed afflicted with ennui as they passively went about their duties. Boaz and Matthew, on the other hand, were notably more energetic. They spent their days with her drawing up lists of Councilors and permanent patrol members who could be trusted to subdue any who might resist Mukhtar Kaseko's new order. Other lists included people Boaz particularly distrusted and whom he suspected of being organized into a g
roup of conspirators against Ishtar. A few of those people had been interrogated, and Boaz had learned a little about the group's organization. Each person had contact with only a few other conspirators; none of those who had been questioned seemed to know who was at the heart of the group.

  Under other circumstances, they might have ignored these malcontents, who had so far limited themselves to spreading scurrilous rumors, telling stories of injustices at the hands of the patrol, attacking and temporarily disabling a few patrol members under the cover of darkness, protecting wrongdoers, and defacing tunnels and buildings with mocking graffiti. But these people might win other supporters when the agreement with Kaseko Wugabe was announced; they had to be rooted out before that. Boaz was prepared to be harsh; every person who broke down under questioning would lead him to a few others. He would trace the chain to its center. He already had a few suppositions; Chimene knew Risa's name was on his list. Boaz would even move against the Guide's mother when he had more evidence.

  Chimene had been following Boaz's direction so far. She looked at his lists, listened to his and Matthew's advice, uttered the occasional gentle protest the two would expect her to make out of pity and love. Before leaving Anwara, she and Alim had recorded speeches about the aid Earth was prepared to offer and the goodwill the Mukhtar had shown them. Boaz was now helping her with her next speech, one that would carefully point out the benefits of friendship with Earth and the suspicion of Habbers both worlds had in common.

  Boaz thought he had won. She did not let him see that she was preparing to move against him, that his lists of those he distrusted were also showing Chimene her potential allies. She no longer heard the Spirit in his voice, only the sound of a man who would surrender to Earth in return for power here. Lately, at night, she dreamed that the Spirit mocked her: What have you done? Why have you put chains on My world?

 

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