Homesmind

by Pamela Sargent

  "Hard seems kind enough," Anra said, trying to sound unconcerned. "But I think he would try to be kind to anyone. Brun came to see me afterward, by the shuttle."

  Lydee looked pained. "That poor boy."

  "He doesn't think of himself that way. He hates pity."

  "His parents are needlessly cruel to leave him crippled. They brought him up to believe that nothing could be done for him. Silla was angry with me when I told her that it wasn't so."

  "Brun can decide for himself what he wants," Anra said. "I asked him to return with us, and he refused."

  "He would have to leave what he knows and go to a place he doesn't really understand. You can't ask a child to make that kind of decision. Silla and Harel should have made it for him."

  "He's adjusted," Marellon said. "The people there treat him as they would any other child. He might be afraid to change. And I've touched Silla's thoughts on the matter." He tugged at his beard. "One of her sisters lives with a skydweller and the other is one herself. And she has a daughter born a solitary. She knew that she could have sent Brun to us, but she hid the knowledge from herself and from him. He was another warning, you see—a last chance for her to return to old ways. So she left him as God intended him to be, and her next two children were healthy. I suppose that must seem like proof that she was right."

  Lydee said, "That's superstition." Marellon shrugged.

  "When I first met Brun," Anra said, "he was with an old man called Urran."

  Lydee drummed her fingers against her armrest. "I know of Urran. I was told he's deluded. The other Merging Selves have separated their minds from his."

  "He says he hears a distant voice. Then, when he looked into my mind, he said it might be the voice of the stranger comet, that God was speaking through it and that a cycle was ending." Anra leaned forward, resting her arms on her legs. "Cerwen heard a voice before he died, and said a cycle was ending."

  "It can't be the voice of that comet," Lydee responded. "If it were, Homesmind would have heard whatever it was saying, unless—" The woman's light-brown face paled slightly. "Unless it is speaking through a channel Homesmind cannot touch."

  And perhaps it is, Homesmind said inside all of them. I have considered that.

  Anra was suddenly afraid. The air seemed cold around her and she shivered. A vision rose before her; she was standing by the village's river, gazing at the opposite bank, where thousands of people stood in front of a field of tents. They were carrying spears and knives and their minds burned with hatred. It was time for them to end the lives of those who had betrayed Earth by leading it into doubt and change.

  "I see what is coming," Anra cried out.

  Marellon grabbed her arm. "No. You see only my memories of the past, when all of Earth wanted to destroy our village. Thousands came for us, but we resisted, and won that battle. That's over."

  "I wonder if it is," Lydee replied.

  They remained in the grove for four days. Lydee clearly wanted solitude for a while, and Marellon was content to leave her to her own thoughts. They were reluctant to return, Anra knew, for they would have to tell the village that the mountain folk now feared them more than ever.

  Anra was growing impatient. She woke up early on the fifth day, prepared for more long hours of distracting herself with the shuttle's library and games while Lydee communed with Homesmind and Marellon explored the countryside. The two had to sense her impatience, but she was afraid to display it openly; she would have had to explain why she was so anxious to get back. Her cheeks grew warm as she thought of the reason. Was Rulek missing her? Or was he still mourning the girl he had lost? In spite of her feelings for Rulek, she feared so strong a love, which could engulf a mind completely.

  The shuttle door suddenly slid open; Marellon signaled to her from outside the craft. She crept past the sleeping Lydee, and Marellon caught her arm as she hopped out.

  —Follow me— he said, floating up into the air; she lifted herself as he soared away from the grove. They glided, riding the warm currents until Marellon dipped down toward a brook.

  They landed under a willow. —Get a fire going— he said. —I'll catch some fish—

  She grinned, already hungry. As she gathered wood, Marellon stretched out along the bank, letting his arms trail in the water as he waited for the fish to swim by. It was easy enough to lure them with one's mind, but Marellon made a sport of it, drawing them near with mental tendrils, then releasing them before trying to catch them with his hand. He had caught two and lost four others by the time the fire was burning and the rocks she had placed around it were hot.

  Marellon scaled the fish with his knife, cut them open, removed the entrails and fins, then wrapped them in wet leaves. Lyclee would not have been able to bear the sight; fishing was as abhorrent to her as hunting, and she had never really understood why the villagers could not restrict themselves to fruits, grains, and vegetables while taking their protein from the shuttle's synthesizers.

  Anra placed the fish on the rocks, directing the heat of the fire there with her mind until the food was done. Marellon devoured his fish. He had already finished and was lying on his back picking his teeth with a bone while Anra was still eating.

  —Lydee would be scolding me now— he said. —I've tried to explain to her that I need to be able to feed myself, to know that I can hunt and fish as well as grow things. That synthesizer of hers can make you lazy, make you forget that you're still part of the world and only another one of its creatures—

  Anra finished her fish and licked her fingers.

  —Feel better now?— he asked. —I know you've been mulling over something—

  —It's nothing— she replied, sorry he had reminded her of her dilemma.

  —I suppose you want to get back to that new friend of yours, the boy you found—

  She hid her thoughts quickly.

  Marellon sat up, leaning on one elbow. —So that's it. You miss that boy—

  "I don't miss him," she answered with her voice. "I only feel bad about leaving so soon. I mean, he's just arrived, and I—"

  "Call to him, then."

  "Oh, I don't want to pester him. Anyway, he's not used to speaking to someone at a distance through the Minds." She wiped her hands on her tunic. Marellon was smiling; she felt as though he was laughing at her. She looked down and began to poke at the fire with a stick.

  "Don't look so hurt, Anra. He's someone different. It's natural to be attracted to someone unfamiliar."

  "Is that why you love Lydee?"

  "It might be part of it. Oh, I didn't like her at all in the beginning. Her mind was alien and her body made me think of a machine. I thought I was repelled by her. Later, I realized that I was only fighting my feelings and refusing to give them their true name. Maybe you're fighting yours, too."

  Anra draped her arms over her knees. "You gave up a lot for Lydee."

  "Did I? It doesn't seem that way to me now. Oh, I could have settled in another village, I suppose, and had a life like Harel's with a partner and children." He stretched out again. "She gave up a lot, too. Her life on the comet would have been more pleasant than the one she has now. I hope she didn't give up her old life for nothing." He paused. "There were barriers between us even after we began to wander Earth together. There were a lot of Earth's ways still in me and much of the comet people in her. Somehow, we kept our bond strong, even though cometdwellers don't easily pledge themselves to only one love. Now I wonder if our bond is growing weaker. She can still return to the comet. She's wondering now if she should."

  Anra drew her brows together. "You don't think she would, do you?"

  "I don't know. If she leaves Earth, I can't help thinking it would be the end of our village as it is now. If she leaves, the other skydwellers might also, and the rest of us would be forced to choose between Earth and the comet. I don't know which I would choose. I've shared Lydee's thoughts for so long that I may be unsuited to a simple life here, but I doubt I could live among sky-dwellers, either. W
e've failed. There may never be a bridge between our two peoples now."

  Anra got up and began to douse the fire. Marellon went to the stream, drank water from his cupped hands, then straightened, gazing intently at the brook as if determined to impress the peaceful scene on his memory as a refuge to which he could always return in thought. He turned to face her and smiled. "At least you and your new friend wouldn't have our barriers to overcome."

  "You're wrong, Marellon. He'd chosen a girl to be his partner. She died during their ordeal, but he still thinks of her." She went to the brook and knelt down for some water. "Of course, some of my friends will try to help him forget her."

  "Then share your own feelings with him."

  She stood up. "I can't. My own frighten me too much. When I touched his mind, there was a wild, dark spot there that I've never sensed so strongly in others, and it's infected me. I feel as if I want to swallow his mind, bind him to me. I've been shielding my thoughts from him ever since he came to the village."

  "You won't be able to keep your feelings from him for long when you're sharing a hut." He took her arm. "You needn't overwhelm him. Just let him sense your thoughts. If he is as you say, then he's capable of a strong love, and may respond to yours."

  "He might not care for me at all."

  "He can't mourn a dead girl forever, and may welcome consolation. He certainly can't care for you if you hide your thoughts from him." They walked along the stream. "I know it's hard, but think of what Lydee had to overcome to share her thoughts with me—nearly everything she had been taught." He gripped her arm more tightly. "And think of this, too. There might be little enough time to spend with him."

  They ate their evening meal outside the shuttle. Lydee had set out the food on a silver blanket while Marellon gathered fresh berries. Occasionally, Marellon would feed Lydee a piece of fruit and she would stroke his hand. Anra was trying not to feel anxious, knowing that the two wanted to prolong the peaceful moment.

  —We should go home soon— Marellon said gently, echoing Anra's thoughts.

  —I know— Lydee responded.

  Anra tensed. A pale light was glowing among the trees. Lydee turned her head toward the light as Marellon got to his feet.

  A figure was taking shape before them. A wave of fear swept over Anra. She trembled; Lydee grabbed her hand. A dark, bearded face was staring at them with unhappy eyes.

  —Cerwen— Lydee called out.

  Cerwen's ghostly form was now clearly visible. He held out his arms. —Help us—

  Anra's link flared as a sharp pain shot through her skull.

  —Help us— The plea was filled with fear. —We are failing. The Minds waver, and we are threatened by something we don't understand. Help us—

  —What's wrong?— Marellon asked, his thoughts so blunted that Anra could barely hear him.

  — The Minds are dying. They'll lose us and all who are bound in Their Net. They'll drift, and all who live on this world will be trapped in separateness. People will no longer touch other minds. Help us before it's too late—

  A voice shrieked; others cried out in terror. Anra clutched at her head, trying to shut out the noise. Lydee's arms-were suddenly around her, supporting her with their strength.

  —Help us— Cerwen said again. His image blurred, then flickered out as the voices faded.

  —What can we do?— Marellon said. Anra could hear his thoughts; the Net of the Minds still held, for the moment. —How can we help?—

  —I don't know— Lydee replied. Anra felt her fright. —We must get back to the village— She clutched at Anra more tightly. —Even Homesmind might not be able to help us now—

  SIX

  —I had a vision, too— Leito said. —The spirit of Cer-wen spoke to me. He spoke of the death of the Minds—

  Ede, who was standing with a group of villagers near the entrance to Leito's hut, stepped forward. —What can this mean?— the thin old man asked.

  Leito was silent as she rested her head on the walking stick she held. Anra, sitting at the old woman's feet, had folded her hands so tightly that her knuckles were white. She remembered how her mind had collapsed in on itself; now she feared she might have to live in that state for the rest of her life.

  By the time Lydee had returned, villagers had already gathered near Leito's hut. Those not present were listening through the Net. Daiya and Reiho sat with Leito on a bench; Luret and Wiland stood behind them.

  —The Minds are drifting— Leito said. —If They die, then we are lost. Why do They call to us for help? We can do nothing for Them—

  —What about the skydwellers' Mind?— Ede said bitterly. —Has It heard Their cry? Or will It leave us to our fate? The last time the specters of the dead appeared, other Earthfolk sought the death of this village. Is that what will happen now?—

  No, Homesmind said inside all of them.

  Leito started; several of the older villagers stirred uneasily.

  I too have heard the Minds' call for help, and have at last discovered the problem. There is a quantum drift toward chaos in the old, delicate balance of the energy structures inside the Minds' pillars.

  —What do You mean?— several villagers asked.

  Simply that the structures are beginning to break down. At first, the Minds did not understand what was taking place and tried to repair Themselves, but now They are losing Their ability to do so. Their subatomic structures are drifting toward indeterminacy, and Their power waxes and wanes almost without warning. If They fail completely, there will be no Minds left to tap Their power and channel it into human systems, and no way for you to tap it. All that They remember will disappear, and you will lose your powers as well.

  —But what can we do?— Reiho asked.

  You can do little. Homesmind was silent for a moment. I, perhaps, can do more. I have learned some things from the Minds; I can draw on some of 'Their power. I should be able to maintain Their Net for a little while, but that is only a temporary expedient. They will need new structures. I hey must eventually be housed elsewhere.

  —But where?— Lydee said.

  I have seeded a new comet, have I not? Already structures needed to house another cybernetic Mind are being built. The Minds could be housed there with only a few alterations in those structures.

  — That comet was to be another home for cometdwellers— Ktey said. Anra glanced toward the doorway as Etey made her way through the crowd. —Our people will never agree to that—

  That comet can be spared. Another can always be seeded. Surely the people here will not begrudge one domicile to save the Minds.

  —But that won't do— Daiya said angrily. —If the Minds are housed there, how can Their power be channeled to the people here? You can only speak to us now through Their channel. If the Minds are removed from Earth, we'll lose Their power anyway. They'll be too far away to sense—

  I would still be able to speak to those on Earth who have the implants linking them both to the Minds and to Me. I could channel power to a few. But that would be necessary only until the Minds regain Their strength and adapt to Their new enclosures. Then the comet that will house Them could be brought closer to Earth and remain in orbit just above the atmosphere. The Minds would be close enough there to link the thoughts of Earthfolk, would They not? Their Net can reach out over longer distances on Earth's surface now.

  Reiho was frowning. —There's something You're not telling us. Say it now, so that everyone here can hear it—

  The Minds will need time to adjust to the new structures, I fear. Even when the comet is ready to receive Them, there will be work for Me to do, for that world was not originally seeded to house Ones quite like the Minds. Until the work of My robotic servants there is done, it will be difficult for the Minds to serve you.

  —And how long will it be before They can?— Reiho asked.

  It is hard to know. I suspect not long—perhaps a generation or two as Earth reckons time.

  Anra lifted a hand to her mouth. Earth would neve
r survive such a long period of solitude.

  Do not despair, Homesmind said. You do not have to endure solitude. The Minds, during that period, will still have the power to channel Their energy over the area of one small world. Those who dwell on the comet that will house the Minds would have access to 'Their powers.

  Leito leaned against Daiya. —No— she murmured. —You're saying that we'll have to leave Earth. What kind of an answer is that?—

  It is the only one I can offer.

  —It won't do— Leito said. —Earthfolk will never bear the loss of their powers. They'll believe that their solitude is eternal. Those who leave Earth for that other world will never return, for there will be nothing left here for them—

  There is nothing else I can do. The energy structures are drifting into indeterminacy, altering almost from moment to moment. They cannot be repaired. The Minds would die without new homes and you would lose Them anyway. In new structures, They can live and preserve Earth's history inside Themselves.

  —Never— Daiya said. —Earth will be lost. Most will refuse to leave this world, and will call Your promise a lie. Their solitude will destroy them—

  —Perhaps this is what comes of rejecting old ways— Areli was speaking; the stout woman stepped forward, planting her hands on her heavy hips. —Earth lived in peace for many cycles. Then the skydwellers came, and the Minds awoke, and we turned to other ways. Now look what that has brought us. Maybe it's the skydwellers who have unbalanced the Minds, they and the Mind above—

  No, Homesmind replied. Areli staggered back. Homes-mind's voice was so harsh that Anra nearly closed her link. They were beginning to drift even before They awoke, though They could not sense it. Had you Earthfolk kept your ancient knowledge instead of forgetting it, by now you might have built new pillars and energy channels, and your Minds and Their powers might have been preserved. You might even have found a way to prevent the drift. I can save your Minds, but you must save yourselves.

  The villagers were silent. Anra thought of Urran. The old man had spoken of the end of a great cycle; he had been right about that.