Homesmind

by Pamela Sargent

  They were all sitting at their morning meal. Reiho, noting that he and Rulek were similar in size and build, had given the boy a clean brown tunic and pants; Rulek had seemed happy to shed his leather clothes, garments his parents had helped him to make. He said little, nodding politely during breaks in the conversation. He had not said anything during the journey to the village, either, and Anra had filled the silence with talk of her home, trying to prepare the boy for his new life. They had communed only once, when Anra had left her grief for Cerwen behind in the mountains, promising that she would cry for him no more. She had sensed that Rulek was making a similar decision about his own sorrows.

  Chal gurgled and laughed as Daiya fed him porridge; Rulek glanced at the child pensively. "Thank you," the blond boy said aloud as he finished his own bowl of porridge. "You've been very kind." He was again avoiding mindspeech as he gazed at Reiho, seemingly trying to figure out what to make of a skydweller who wore homespun clothing and dwelled with an Earthwoman.

  Daiya smiled. —You're welcome to stay with us for a while—

  Rulek shook his head. "I'm old enough to live alone. I know you have empty huts here."

  "You needn't live alone," Anra said to Rulek. "I was going to seek out another hut today—we could share it." She blushed, wishing he would open his mind; he might misinterpret her words. "As friends. A woman named Etey has offered to share a hut with me. She's a sky-dweller and could teach you something of their ways." Rulek raised his brows. "Unless you'd rather not."

  "No," he said, "that's all right. I'm curious about them." His sad face brightened a bit.

  "Etey was my mentor when I was a boy," Reiho said. "That means she was like a parent and guide to me."

  "You have no parents?" Rulek asked.

  "Not as you do. We're each a different genetic combination brought to term in an artificial womb." Rulek did not reply, and Anra wondered what he was thinking, worried that he was being exposed to too many new ideas at once.

  "When you meet other villagers," she said hastily, "you can move to another hut if you wish. I'm sure you'll make friends before long." Her cheeks grew warmer. She had been afraid of letting him see how much she was drawn to him; now she wondered if he would think she was trying to push him away.

  Anra led Rulek outside, pointing out the paths to the public space and the river. A few people in nearby huts waved from their doorways, nodding at Rulek in friendly fashion. The news of the stranger had spread quickly, as all news did. It was a good sign, the villagers were thinking; perhaps others would now come to join them.

  The two walked along the dirt road toward the south field. As they neared the edge of the village, the huts on either side began to show the signs of neglect; the gardens were weedy, the roofs open to the sky. In several spots, only mounds of bricks marked the places where huts had once stood.

  A gleam of silver caught Anra's eye. Etey was standing in front of one hut that seemed almost unmarked by decay. Nenla and Kal had once lived there, Anra recalled; they had moved nearer to the center of the village only recently. The two had added space to the structure, and had even repaired the huts nearest to it, as if expecting new neighbors to arrive. The roof needed some new thatching, but the walls were sturdy.

  Etey came toward them. Rulek stared at her silver suit, and Anra wondered if he was seeing Etey as she really was. "Etey, this is Rulek," Anra said quickly.

  The skydweller nodded. "The new arrival. I sensed it last night, when he first came."

  Anra suddenly felt awkward. "I told Rulek he could share a hut with us. I suppose I should have asked you first."

  "So we're to share a hut after all. Of course." She smiled at Rulek. "You are welcome—that is, if you don't mind living with one as strange as I." Even in Earth's language, Etey's words had a teasing, sardonic tone.

  "I don't mind," Rulek said tonelessly.

  Etey looked up; Anra turned toward the center of the village. Lydee's shuttle was returning. The small, domed craft hovered for a moment and then dropped, disappearing among the huts.

  "Your aunt is back," Etey murmured. "I'll visit with her while you two explore our new home." Rulek watched her as she strode away, then turned and gazed out at the field near which the skydwellers' tent and shuttlecraft still stood.

  Anra plucked at his sleeve, and Rulek followed her up the path to the hut's entrance. They entered a large room. A fireplace was in the wall facing the doorway; a table and two benches stood in the center of the room. The dirt floor was covered with debris—reeds, shreds of cloth, a few broken bowls, one of Fiella's old straw dolls. Anra picked up the doll for a moment, remembering when she had played with it in this room.

  A weed was growing from the dirt floor, lighted by a beam of light shining through a hole in the roof. The corners of the room seemed mossy, and spiders had woven their webs near the dusty eaves. Two openings on either side of the room led to two smaller rooms.

  Anra dropped the doll and examined the table; the wood was dry and slightly warped. She traced a line in the dust, recalling the meals she had eaten at that table. Nenla and Kal had been happy here; perhaps she would be, too.

  "What do you think?" she asked, pointing toward one doorway. "You can have your own place to sleep, and Etey can take the other room. I'll sleep out here."

  "This will be fine," he responded. She imagined that he was comparing the hut with the cabin where he had grown up.

  Rulek wandered back outside. She followed, worried by his passive tone and lack of emotion. He was probably trying to sort out his thoughts; the village had to seem very strange to him still. She wished that he would lower his wall.

  Rulek was again staring at the distant tent. "I sensed them before," he said. "Their minds are shiny and hard— they glitter like the stones my grandmother used to wear around her neck. I sensed their tiny, pulsing lights—like yours. Yet I couldn't read their thoughts."

  "They don't often lower their walls."

  "There's coldness inside them."

  "Yes, but some kindness, too. All skydwellers are kind in their way, but many still fear Earth. Their world is a tame one. Etey's braver than the others—she's lived here before. Don't mind if she seems distant sometimes. Skydwellers don't have strong feelings."

  "Feelings bring pain," he said. "Perhaps they're wiser than we are. I have much to ask your skydweller friend." He paused. "We'd better start cleaning out this hut."

  She was about to follow him back inside when she felt a tug on the Net; Lydee was summoning her. As she prepared to reply, other voices suddenly joined in:

  —Two have returned—

  —I see old friends again—

  —Cousin—

  —Granddaughter—

  Anra shielded herself, suddenly afraid of what Lydee was going to tell her.

  Lydee was waiting for her in the public space. Except for a few small children playing with carved animals, the space was empty.

  The two sat down in the shade of the shuttle. "We brought back another child," Lydee said. "Luret and

  Wiland are finding her a home now." "But that isn't why you summoned me." "No. Anra, you must prepare yourself." "I already know what you're going to say. I heard it through the Net. Kal said cousin, and I heard Lei to say granddaughter. I knew what they meant. You brought my parents here."

  Lydee nodded. "Marellon took them to Leito—then they'll visit with Daiya. They will want to see you."

  Anra felt stunned and empty. "But I don't want to see them." She kept up her shield. "I had a life without them. What can I be to them now? What can I say to them?"

  "Don't you think I understand?" Lydee answered. "I came here when I was younger, to parents I had never seen."

  "But why did they have to come back now? Are they going to live here?"

  "No. They'll only be here for a short time."

  "Then why did they have to come back at all?" Anra glared at her aunt. "Everyone will force me to see them. They'll all tell me I should be happy to be reunited
with them. They left me here—you can't force me to love them now." She wondered which would be worse; two strangers demanding love and respect they had not earned, or two people turning away from the child they had not wanted.

  Lydee sighed. "No one will force you to do anything. We can all understand your feelings. Anyway, it's not only you whom they came to see."

  "Good," Anra said harshly. "Then I won't have to see them."

  "Their village is worried. They've sensed a disturbance in their Net, a weakening of their channel to the Minds. I've sensed it, too."

  Anra tensed, thinking of what the Minds had said to her.

  "I've spoken to Homesmind," Lydee continued, "and have reached out to the Minds myself. Your parents asked their village if they could return here and commune with us about this problem. That was hard for them to do, because Silla still fears us, and her village is still uneasy in my presence."

  Anra tried to concentrate on Lydee's words. This problem was much more important than her worries about a meeting with her parents. That thought made her angry again. Only fear of what might be happening to the Minds had brought Silla and Harel here; they would never have come otherwise.

  Lydee glanced at her, as if sensing her rage. "I told those people that we knew as little as they did, but Silla and Harel decided to return with us anyway. Perhaps it was easier for them to have a reason to visit."

  "Do you think the Minds are hiding something from us?" Anra asked.

  Lydee frowned. "Better not to speculate until we know more. First the news of the distant comet, and now this. I wonder what it can mean."

  Anra wrapped her arms around her legs. "So my parents have come to speak of that. Well, let them do so, and then take them back. I'm not living with Daiya and Reiho now—I have my own hut. I can make my own decisions."

  "They may not come to you," Lydee said. "It was hard enough for them to come to the village. If you don't seek them out, they'll assume you don't want to see them at all. Anra, if you turn them away now, you may never get another chance."

  "A chance for what?"

  "A chance to mend the breach." Lydee's voice was strained. "My parents would have buried me outside the village fields if Daiya hadn't given me to the cometdwellers. I felt nothing when I first saw those called my mother and father. But we did touch minds at last, and were reconciled." Lydee was silent for a moment. "It's good that I did reach out. Their deaths came quickly during that time of troubles. Had I turned away from them, I would have had no chance at a reconciliation."

  Anra did not reply.

  "One thing this world has taught me is how little time there can be. Cometdwellers think there is an eternity of tomorrows, that what is not done now can always be done later. You ought to think about doing what is right, however painful it is, before it's too late."

  "You sound as if you're expecting something to happen."

  "I expect nothing," Lydee said, "but I'd be foolish not to be ready for change. The Minds waver and a strange comet draws near, and we don't yet know what it all means. Speak to Silla and Harel. If you don't, you may regret it."

  Anra got up quickly. "I have work to do." She walked away, refusing to look back.

  All of Anra's friends had contributed some of their own food and wine to supper. The table, its wood restored by the ministrations of one of Etey's robots, was covered with plates of food.

  With many to help, the work on the hut had gone quickly. The rooms were clean, the roof repaired. Rulek was getting along with her friends, doing better than she had expected. They had all felt his reluctance to talk of his past, but that hadn't mattered; they were willing to accept him, and he was something new in their lives. Anra recalled how he had labored, keeping the most difficult tasks for himself, as if relieved at having work to occupy his thoughts.

  Etey stood near the doorway, speaking softly to Rulek. The boy had asked her many questions about skydweller customs. He had even smiled while watching her robot at work, fascinated by the machine—or perhaps by Barla, who had arrived suddenly at noon to help them. Barla was standing next to Rulek now, waiting for him to join the others at the table. They had all gone down to the river to wash up after the work of the day, and Anra, for the first time, had noticed how thin and scrawny she looked next to Barla, whose body had filled out. Rulek might have noticed the same thing. Anra tried to tell herself that it didn't matter, but the thought that she was not as pretty as Barla gnawed at her. Her resentment of the other girl was so strong that she had to shield her thoughts before they escaped her mind.

  —I must go to Daiya's hut— Etey said suddenly to Anra. —She's expecting me. I'll return when it's time to sleep— The skydweller was averting her eyes from the meal, which included several dishes of meat and poultry; Etey still shrank from watching people eat such foods.

  —Good night— a few young people called out as Etey departed.

  Rulek followed Barla to the table, sitting beside her on the bench across from Anra. Kierlus, the tallest of the boys, had already claimed a dish of beef for himself. Anra surveyed the others at the table. Riene, who was sipping a cup of wine, gave Rulek a sidelong glance with her violet eyes; when he looked in her direction, she lowered her long lashes, then shook back her thick, sunstreaked hair. Viya, seated between Faeter and Jaan, fiddled with her short blond curls and stared intently at the newcomer with her dark-brown eyes, as interested in Rulek as in her meal.

  Anra, behind her mental wall, was irritated. Her friends were acting unlike themselves. The girls simpered and batted their eyes, while the boys had spent part of the afternoon challenging Rulek to friendly tests of strength using both body and mind.

  Gennon jostled her elbow as he reached for the chicken wings. "To Anra's new home," Jaan said aloud. Anra turned toward the opposite end of the bench, where the black-haired Jaan was seated. "And to Rulek, our new friend." The boy raised his cup.

  "We're going to move into one of the other huts nearby," Barla said. "The other girls and I. That way, we'll all be together." She glanced at Rulek significantly.

  "Really," Anra said quietly.

  "We'll have a hut, too," Kierlus murmured, speaking for the other boys. "Our own little village within a village." Everyone began to babble of plans for their huts.

  Anra tried to smile as she looked up from her bowl of chicken and vegetables; Rulek was watching her. She could guess his thoughts, even though his wall was still up. He was annoyed with her for not being as cheerful as the others; maybe he was already wishing that he hadn't promised to share this hut. He might have shared one with the boys, or with Barla. Anra scolded herself silently. She had to bury such thoughts, lest Rulek see them.

  She leaned forward, offering a few suggestions of her own as the others spoke of the gardens they would plant and the tasks they would undertake together. Once they were settled, perhaps some of the younger children could join them. They spoke of these children to Rulek, summoning up images of each while describing their personalities. Anra spoke of Chal, telling of how Lydee and Marellon had brought him here from a village on the other side of Earth, a place beyond the vast, salty lake to the west. In that village, according to Lydee, all the people lived in caves, had Chal's black hair and almond-shaped eyes, and decorated their homes with ivory and jade carvings so ancient that they might have come from the time before Earth built the Minds.

  The talk died down as they finished their food. A few of the young people were communing mentally, while Rulek still cloaked his thoughts. No one seemed to mind; he would mindspeak more readily when he got to know them.

  "There is one thing that puzzles me," Rulek said abruptly. Everyone looked toward him expectantly. "You have heavendwellers here, and they've given you the small, glowing lights that have opened your minds. You've learned something of their ways. Yet you keep to this village, and farm as its people always have, and keep a few customs while rejecting others."

  "We stay here now," Paeter said, "but we'll begin going to other villages eventually
."

  "But why haven't you simply become like the heaven-dwellers? Anra has told me that her aunt grew up on their world and that they would allow others to live there. Why haven't you gone?"

  Anra sat up, surprised that such a question could come from one who had been among them for so short a time.

  Viya smiled, tugging at her white tunic as though preening herself. "Anra should have told you why." She blushed as she toyed with one of her blond curls. "We're a bridge between the skydwellers and Earth. By combining the ways of both, we can help Earthfolk and skydwellers draw closer." Viya arched her brows at Anra, who gazed back sourly; she had explained that to Rulek before.

  "But that isn't happening, is it?" Rulek folded his hands. "The rest of Earth avoids you, and you avoid it. You don't really know much about it and its people except what the Minds might have shown you. And you don't seem to reach out to the skydwellers all that much. Oh, you allow them to come here, and accept their help, but you let them keep to themselves for the most part, don't you? The heavendwellers could give you an easy life, yet you refuse it. You prefer to live here, waiting for something that will never come to pass."

  "It will take time," Fiella said.

  "Time." Rulek shrugged. "No time will be long enough. You could spare yourselves much pain."

  "Some pain is necessary," Fiella replied.

  "You know nothing of it. If you did, you'd do anything to avoid it." Anra, hearing the sorrow in his voice, again wished that she could heal his wounds somehow.

  Jaan was yawning. Gennon swung his legs over the bench and stood up, muttering an excuse about having to work in the fields next morning. Others rose, saying their farewells. Anra watched them go, annoyed that they had picked this moment to leave. Rulek had spoken frankly; now he would think that her friends did not want to share his thoughts.

  Barla lingered, but Rulek was no longer paying attention to her. At last she picked up the bowls she had brought and left.