“I do understand,” Mahala said. “I know it means a lot to you, it’s just—” She paused. “Dyami’s like you. He needs time to do his sculptures and models, too, but it isn’t his whole life.”
“Well, that’s one way we’re different, then.”
Frania was gazing intently at the boy, obviously ready to take his side. “Dyami’s taught me a lot,” Ragnar continued. “That monument he designed and made—I never asked him what it was like for him when he was working on it. I figured he probably wouldn’t want to talk about it, given what he went through being a prisoner. But I’ll bet that while he was doing that monument, it was everything to him, that it took up his whole life.”
“That’s probably true,” Mahala said. “He used to say that he had to do it.”
“Maybe he was thinking of his friends,” Ragnar said, “the ones who died under torture and the ones who were killed in the final battle against their guards. Maybe it was the only way he could deal with what happened to him when he was a prisoner. It’s possible he put so much of himself into that monument that there wasn’t much left over, or maybe it was just that he had one great creation in him and no more. The point is that he’s finished his real work—it’s enough for him now to do his job and play around with sculpting and teach me a few things and maybe dabble in math with Balin. I want to do more than that.”
“Then you should have stayed in school,” Mahala said. “You still could have had your art.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” Ragnar leaned toward her. “All of those studies would have just been in my way. Frankly, I probably wouldn’t even have done well at them because I’d have known all along it wasn’t what I wanted. This way, I can do my job and give the rest of my time to myself.”
“I suppose that’s why you asked for darktime shifts,” Mahala said. “Most people are busy after first light, so they won’t be bothering you.”
“That’s one reason.”
“You’ll have even more time to yourself and your little pastime.”
Ragnar’s hands fisted. “It isn’t a pastime,” he muttered. Mahala was suddenly sorry for her words, suddenly puzzled by what she had said to him.
“Please,” Frania said, “do you two have to argue on our first day together?”
“I know why you’re upset.” Ragnar’s eyes were still on Mahala. “You just want me to be with you, doing whatever you want me to do. You’re mad at me because there’s something else I want more than being around you—or being around anyone.”
Mahala jumped to her feet, stung. “I can’t stand being around you sometimes, and I don’t care what you do, either.”
“Then leave me alone.”
“I’ll be glad to.” She walked away quickly, then made her way over the rocks toward the trees. He had struck at the source of her anger and disappointment, that she had hoped he might follow her dreams, become more closely bound to her life. Her cheeks burned; she felt both furious and ashamed. Maybe he had even guessed that, whenever she allowed herself to indulge fully in her fantasies, she had imagined that Ragnar would be at her side to explore the Islands and Earth.
She sat down and rested her back against a tree. Ragnar and Frania were on their feet; the boy was speaking, but she could not hear his voice. At last Frania wandered off, head down, as Ragnar climbed toward the trees.
I’ve ruined everything, Mahala thought. She had been meaning to put in her request to be considered for an Island school, and there was no point in putting that off any longer. Ragnar would have his art and Frania her pilot’s training; the two were not likely to miss her once she was gone.
Ragnar was coming toward her. Mahala wanted to get up and walk away, but she would still have to deal with him back at her uncle’s house later.
“Frani’s upset,” he said as he sat down next to her.
“I’m sorry.”
“You should be sorry for that. She wouldn’t do that to you.”
“I’m sorry I said what I did to you. I just thought—” Mahala kept staring at the lake, refusing to look at him. “I only said it because I think you could do more.”
“I’m doing what I want to do.” He drew up his knees and rested his head on them. “I considered it for a long time. I have to do things this way now. I thought you’d understand.”
“I understand that it’s what you want, Ragnar. I just don’t understand why you want it so much.”
“Well, at least we can agree on that, because I don’t, either.”
She glanced at him and was surprised to see a smile flicker across his face. “You don’t?”
“It’s as if I really don’t have any choice. It’s what I have to do, whatever it means, whatever mistakes I make trying to do it. Maybe you think I’ve forgotten about how we used to talk about seeing other places or being more than we are, but I haven’t. When I’m drawing or sculpting, it’s as if I’m in another place then. I just feel—I don’t know how to explain it—that this is how I have to find my way to something else.”
“I think I see.”
“I hope so.” Ragnar sighed. “I’ve been arguing with my parents for the past year—I had to get away from them. Thorunn keeps saying that I’m wasting my time when I could be doing something useful and Einar was always after me to figure out how to sell my stuff and at least get paid some credit for it. And Solveig was always trying to act as if she understands what I’m doing, but I’m not sure she really does. I don’t want you after me, too.”
“I won’t be. Anyway, I’m going to put in for an Island school, so if I’m lucky, you won’t have to put up with me for much longer.”
“Oh.” He was silent for a while. “You haven’t applied yet. So I thought maybe you’d changed your plans.”
“I was putting it off, and I thought Frani and I could apply together, and then Risa wanted me to stay with her for a while, and—” Mahala looked away from Ragnar. “Well, it’s silly to wait now. I’ll have a lot of work ahead of me if I’m going to get into the Cytherian Institute.”
“So you still want that. The story I heard was that Earth doesn’t want as many Cytherian students there now. Makes sense—graduates from Earth who come here might have more loyalty to the Mukhtars. A lot of people think their main reason for having any of us there at all is so they can convince more of us to be sympathetic to Earth’s interests back here.”
She sat up. “Are you trying to get back at me?”
“I’m telling you that you might not gain that much from going to the Institute.”
“So now you’re telling me to do what you want.”
“What you do is your business, Mahala. I’ll admit I want you to stay. I don’t think for one second that you will stay if a school accepts you.”
“Ragnar, I—”
“Can’t you see? For somebody intelligent, you can be awfully stupid. I moved here because of you, because you’re here.”
She averted her gaze, unable to look at him. “I didn’t think—”
“Oh, part of coming here, an important reason, was so I could be around Dyami. He’s about the only person I know who understands me at all. But it was mostly you, Mahala. I thought you would have guessed that by now.”
She raised her head and met his eyes. “You don’t make it easy for me. About all we’ve done since you got here is argue.”
I thought it’d be different, that maybe I wouldn’t feel the same about you when I was here, but I did. Then you had to start in on how I was making a big mistake.”
“I didn’t mean—”
He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her toward him. His mouth met hers awkwardly, his lips too hard against hers. An arm slipped around her waist, cradling her.
Mahala drew back, then rested her head against his chest. “Now you know,” he said softly. “If you don’t feel the same way about me, then say so now, and I won’t bother you again.”
She could not speak.
“You don’t have to worry, Mahala. I just want t
o know where I stand. I’ll leave you alone if that’s the way you want it.”
A spark of joy flared up inside her. She had wanted this all along, had longed for it so much that she had found it too painful to contemplate. Now he had shown that he longed for her, but she could feel herself wavering. Why did she suddenly feel as though her life was no longer her own?
She thought of Frank, of how hurt the other girl would be to learn of Ragnar’s feelings. Better to tell him that he could be no more than a friend. He would get over her in time, and her feelings for him would eventually fade. Older people said that to younger ones all the time.
“Ragnar,” she whispered.
“You do care,” he said. “You do.”
“Yes.” She nearly choked on the word. His arms tightened around her. A few children were scampering over the rocks below, climbing toward the trees. “Not here,” she managed to say, overwhelmed by doubt.
“Later, then,” he said. “After supper. We can find a spot. Everybody will think we’re just taking a walk.”
“You’re forgetting about Frani.”
“What’s Frani got to do with it? You can tell her we want to be by ourselves. She won’t say anything to the others.”
Something twisted inside her. She could not bear to hurt Frania that way, but her only other choice was to lie to her. That was what Ragnar was offering, a chance to wound the girl she thought of as her sister, or else to deceive her. Telling him that Frania loved him would be a betrayal of her friend’s secret, and she could not know how he would react.
Frania, of course, would be kind and understanding about everything, no matter how deeply she might be hurt. Mahala consoled herself with that thought.
They sat together for a while, not moving. Ragnar got up and held out his arm. She thrust her hand into his as he led her down the rocky slope.
10
He had made love to her as though he was practiced at it, his earlier awkwardness gone. He seemed to know when to wait and when to kiss her for long moments.
“I love you,” Ragnar whispered. A hand brushed the hair from her face, then reached down to cup her hip. She could not see him in the darkness under the trees. She had shuddered under him, grateful he could not see her until the pleasure he was bringing her drove other thoughts from her mind.
I’m not ready for this, she thought, now that it was too late. Somehow she had expected these moments to be different. When she had gone to Tasida two years ago to get her contraceptive implant, as everyone did upon reaching puberty, the physician had offered to answer any of Mahala’s questions. Mahala had loftily replied that she knew everything already and that she needed no more information. She would know when the time was right for her, when the boy was someone she could both love and trust, and then everything would be perfect. She had not been prepared for the melancholy that filled her now and the feeling that she might have made a mistake.
Ragnar had saved her the trouble of lying to Frania. “Mahala and I are going to take a walk,” he had said after dinner. Amina had gone out to their greenhouse behind the kitchen; Dyami was at the other side of the common room, sketching. “You don’t mind if we go by ourselves, do you?” Frania had flinched, her eyes widening with pain before her smile quickly reappeared.
She knows, Mahala had thought. Before she could tell Ragnar that she did not want to go with him, Frania had practically been pushing them out the door. “Go on,” the other girl had said, still with that frozen smile on her face.
Ragnar’s hand ran along her spine. Mahala twisted away from him and sat up, pulling on her shirt. Beyond the trees, a silvery disk, the reflection of the dome’s light, floated on the glassy black surface of the lake.
“What’s the matter?” Ragnar asked.
“When did you know? How you felt about me, I mean.”
“I’ve known for a while—just didn’t want to admit it to myself. There was someone in Hypatia. I figured if I found another girl, maybe my feelings toward you would change, but I still wanted you even when I was with her.”
He had admitted it, just like that; she had not even had to ask him if there had been another before her. “Oh,” she murmured.
“It didn’t mean anything.”
“If it didn’t mean anything, then you shouldn’t have done it.”
“Look, it didn’t mean anything to her, either. She was a couple of years older than me. I think she just wanted some fun before she left to go on Bat duty.”
“We should go home,” she said. “Dyami will be wondering why we’re out so late.” Her uncle had probably guessed why they had left the house, especially when Frania had stayed behind, but would naturally be concerned. He would undoubtedly still be sitting up, as would Amina, in case she or Ragnar needed to talk. If she said nothing, her uncle and his housemate would not intrude on their privacy. But she would have to face Frania, whom she had hurt.
“We’ll come here tomorrow,” Ragnar said. “I don’t start work until the day after.”
“Maybe we ought to restrain ourselves for a while.”
His hand slipped into hers. “You’re thinking of Frani, aren’t you?” Mahala could not reply. “I saw it in her eyes, when we left. I honestly didn’t know how she felt until then.
We’re all going to be living in the same house, so we can’t exactly hide it from her.” “We don’t have to rub her nose in it, either.” “I’m sorry, Mahala. If I’d known, I would have told Dyami I couldn’t stay with him. That might have made it a little easier on her.”
She slipped her hand from his, wondering if he meant that, if he had truly meant it when he had said he loved her.
Dyami and Amina stayed up just long enough to see that neither Mahala or Ragnar wanted to talk to them. Frania was already in bed. Mahala went to the bathroom to wash, then back into the common room.
Ragnar sat at a table, slouched over a screen. Mahala glanced toward his futon. “Aren’t you going to sleep?”
“Might as well stay up. I’m going to be working late shifts anyway, so I should get used to that schedule.” His stylus moved across the screen. “Sit with me while I sketch.”
“Are you going to draw me?”
He shook his blond head. “You’re not a good model. Frani’s more cooperative—I never have to tell her to hold still.”
“Then I’m going to bed.” She pressed the door to her room open. Frania had left a small light on near Mahala’s bed. She tiptoed across the room as the door closed, then heard a sigh as she was reaching toward her clothing rod for a shift.
Mahala turned. Frania was sitting up, but her long hair hid most of her face. “Tasida came over while you were out,” Frania said in a toneless voice. “Moved in some of her things. She’s keeping her office in her old house, though.”
“Just as well,” Mahala said.
“Dyami said Balin will be over tomorrow.”
“Good. I promised myself that the next time I saw him, I’d ask if I could send a message to Benzi. Maybe he’ll actually respond.”
“I didn’t tell them anything about you and Ragnar,” Frania said, so softly that Mahala could hardly hear her. “Amina and Dyami don’t know. If he doesn’t care about me, there’s nothing I can do about it—I’ll just have to—” Her voice broke; she covered her eyes with one hand.
“Frani.” Mahala went to her and sat down on Frania’s bed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone with him.”
“Don’t be stupid. If he’d asked me, I would have gone and been happy about it, too, even if I knew you were in love with him. You are, aren’t you.”
“I guess I am,” Mahala replied, not knowing even now if that was true.
“Then I won’t ruin things for you. I can’t force him to love me. I don’t want him to know—I can’t—”
Mahala held the other girl as she wept. It isn’t worth it, she told herself; nothing was worth causing Frani such unhappiness and pain. It was foolish to have such thoughts, when she knew that she would inevitably make lo
ve with Ragnar again.
“I’ve decided one thing,” Mahala said when Frania’s sobs had subsided. “I’m going to put in for an Island school right away, maybe tomorrow, and definitely before school starts again.”
Frania drew away. “You don’t have to do that for me.”
“I’m not doing it just for you, Frani. It’s something I always wanted, and I meant to do it anyway after I came back here. I have to apply as soon as I can now, because if I don’t, I’ll just keep putting it off. And the longer I do that, the more of a hold Ragnar will have on me.”
Frania cleared her throat. “You really do care about him.”
Mahala shook herself. “I wish I didn’t. It makes me feel out of control. It makes me do something thoughtless like going off with him even when I knew how much that would hurt you.”
“I’ll get over it—being hurt, I mean. It isn’t your fault that he feels the way he does.” Frania smoothed down her shift. “If it had to be somebody else for him, I’m glad at least that it’s you.”
Mahala bowed her head. Had she been in the other girl’s place, she wondered if she would have been so forbearing and forgiving.
Mahala did not go off with Ragnar the next evening, excusing herself by saying that she wanted to spend some time with Balin, whom she had not seen for so long. At last the boy went out by himself, telling her nothing about where he was going. She had meant to ask the Habber about Benzi, but Balin seemed more solemn than usual, and so she had contented herself with telling him about her hopes to study on one of the Islands. Balin had brightened a little when she said that; Dyami also seemed pleased by her plans.
Ragnar had still not returned by the time she and Frania were going to bed and was asleep on his futon when she got up for breakfast. Mahala spent the rest of the day with her screen, leaving messages for all her former teachers as she began to assemble her application for admission to an Island school. The Administrators in charge of the schools, once they had reviewed her public record and any recommendations her former teachers made, would ask her for an essay about her ambitions and how an Island school could further them, and she might as well get started on the admissions tests in the meantime. The tests presented problems that could be solved in a number of different ways, much as her teachers in the Turing school had in many of their lessons.
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