Homesmind

by Pamela Sargent

  "Waiting," Fiella said. "Their minds are closed. Maybe they're afraid. They might want to ask us if they can stay here."

  Kierlus scowled. "Then why don't they call to us?" The tall boy scratched at his mousy hair. "If they got a good look at this village," he went on, "they wouldn't want to stay. They could tell the rest of Earth that we're paying for our sins." Paeter poked Kierlus in the ribs with an elbow, motioning to his friend to be quiet.

  Anra stood up. "We'll have to go to them and find out what they want. If they won't touch our minds, we'll have to use words."

  "Too risky," Paeter said.

  "Not if we all go together." Anra put a hand on her knife. "We can fight if we have to—there are only five of them. And they might mean no harm. We have to let them know that they're welcome."

  "You want to take too many chances," Paeter said.

  "Chances! We run more of a risk as we are. If we don't accept people willing to listen to us, we'll remain vulnerable. Numbers mean strength and the chance to reach out to others."

  Paeter folded his arms. "You might be right. Their village could have sent them. We don't even know how many might be calling out to us."

  "If any were," Kierlus objected, "surely Wiland and Luret would have known."

  "Not if they were too far from such places," Anra replied.

  Kierlus strode forward. "We were fools to stay here," he shouted. Anra stepped back, craning her neck as she gazed into the tall boy's round face. "We should have left with the skydwellers. Even Rulek saw there was no reason to stay."

  "And how would the rest of Earth fare then?" Anra sighed. "We might be needed."

  Their voices had drawn Barla to the doorway of Anra's hut, which all the girls shared now. Barla hurried outside, followed by Viya and Riene.

  "Do you want the strangers to see us arguing?" Paeter asked. Kierlus looked down, flushing.

  "Well." Anra put her hands on her hips. "Let's decide which of us should go."

  "Shouldn't we all go?" Gennon said, pointing his chin and trying to look brave.

  "No. We might scare them off."

  Viya's brown eyes widened. "Isn't that the point?" the blond girl asked.

  "Not if they mean to be friendly." Anra turned tojaan. "You'd better wait here." The black-haired boy's new mustache made him look uncharacteristically fierce; the sight of him might seem threatening. "And you, too," she said to the three girls standing behind Fiella. Barla sometimes had too quick a temper, while Viya could be slow to act. "If anything goes wrong, come to us then." She was looking at Riene as she spoke; she could trust the violet-eyed girl and Jaan to act quickly if necessary and to look out for Barla and Viya. Kierlus might complain at times, but his strength was good to have in a fight. The last battle had taught her something about all of her friends.

  "Let's go, then," Paeter said. He and Fiella led the way as Anra followed with Kierlus and Gennon. The strangers, still watching, did not move.

  All the fields lay fallow; after the last harvest, nothing had been planted and only a few people still tended gardens. The oven where they had once baked their pottery was cold now; the looms on which the village had woven its cloth had clattered into silence. Even the trellises of the vineyard were neglected. The shuttlecraft synthesizers gave them everything they needed; the village was no longer a home but a way station, a place to wait. There was no need to tend it; they all knew that they would have to leave it eventually.

  That had been a hard thing to accept. Even the young people, who had grown up knowing that they might someday wish to live among skydwellers for a while, had found it difficult. Homesmind had tried to ease them by showing them images of the new comet It had seeded. Already the giant trees on that world were growing, though they were still saplings compared to the massive ones on Homesmind's own world. Inside the roots of the new comet, a green landscape dotted by lakes and threaded by rivers had formed. It would be a pleasant home, and Homesmind had taken care to seed it with plants and animals like Earth's own. Silver pillars and crystal columns, along with a hidden network of nerves and lattices throughout the comet, would house the Minds. Anra clung to that vision; it was the only hope they could offer to the waiting strangers. The men might need such a vision when they saw what the village had become.

  The men were staring at them silently as they approached. They all wore loincloths and beads, and two of them had braided their black hair. One man in blue beads was beardless; Anra could now see that he was a boy. All of them were thin, with protruding ribs; she wondered when they had last eaten.

  As the young people came nearer, one man gripped his knife; another clutched a spear. Paeter tensed, his hand at his waist near his own knife. The boy sitting with the group brushed back a lock of shaggy black hair that had fallen over his dark eyes. His hand was shaking.

  "Why have you come here?" Paeter asked.

  "Have you already lost your mindspeech?" the man holding the spear said.

  "No," Paeter replied, "but we'll share our thoughts in words for now."

  "Afraid?" The man sneered.

  "Cautious," Anra said. But the villagers rarely mind-spoke even among themselves now; their unhappiness and sense of futility, deepened by their idleness, had made thoughts often too painful to share. They were all growing more solitary.

  "Your fields aren't planted," the man said, "and I see no herds."

  "We've freed most of our animals," Anra replied, "except for the dogs and cats. And there are still a few chickens and pigs."

  "How do you feed yourselves, then?"

  "We have enough." She would not try to explain the synthesizers. "Some of us tend gardens. I was going to dig up my lettuce today and plant beans." That much, at least, she could tell them. They might only be looking for food.

  The man stood up slowly; his companions rose with him. The boy stood a little apart from them, his eyes fixed on the man holding the spear. "Won't you open your minds to us?" that man said.

  Anra frowned. The strange boy glanced at her quickly, but she could not read the expression in his narrowed eyes. "Why should we?" she asked.

  "How else can we trust you? We've traveled far to come here." The man threw down his spear as the others held out their hands, palms open. Their walls were still up; Anra hesitated.

  "Unveil your own thoughts first," Paeter said.

  "Oh, no. How do we know your intentions? We've heard tales of this place, of how the skydwellers who come here have mutilated their own bodies and have made lifeless, barren shells of them. How do we know that won't happen to us?"

  "No one will hurt you," Paeter said.

  "Then let us see that." The man smiled, showing yellow teeth.

  Anra glanced at Paeter. The men would not lower their shields unless she and her friends did so first. Slowly, she opened her mind as Paeter also lowered his wall.

  "No," the strange boy suddenly cried out. Anra struggled; he had walled her in. She shattered the barrier with one mental thrust. A spear of pain shot through her; she fell to the ground, arms out, and rolled to her knees. Paeter was gazing at his arm in shock; a long, red stain was spreading over his sleeve.

  The band's leader had picked up his spear again. Another man slashed at Kierlus with his knife, barely missing him; the tall boy threw him aside. Anra lashed out at another as he tried to grab her hair; Fiella knocked him away with a whip of light.

  Gennon writhed on the ground; blood trickled from his nose. Another knife slashed at Anra, barely missing her face, and an invisible claw gripped her skull, trying to crush it. A band tightened around her throat; she snapped it, then threw up her shield. More energy flowed into her wall; someone else was trying to protect both her and Paeter. The strange boy was crouching; his hand was on his knife, which was still sheathed.

  Kierlus had rushed to Gennon's defense, shielding his friend with his mind. Fiella's face was white; she was now taking the brunt of the mental assault. She screamed, and her rage became a disembodied claw. The man with the spear sh
rieked as the claw tore at his chest.

  The three other men were backing away. They lifted themselves suddenly and flew quickly toward the distant mountains. Anra stumbled to her feet.

  Riene and Barla were flying toward them over the field, with Viya and Jaan close behind. They had frightened the men off; the strangers would have found it too hard to fight them all. Anra's head throbbed. Kierlus quickly lunged past her and grabbed the strange boy, binding him with his mind.

  Paeter suddenly collapsed. Riene hurried to him, lending her strength to his in order to stanch the flow of blood from his arm.

  Anra went to Fiella. The man with the spear lay facedown, his hand still clutching his weapon. The red-haired girl glared at him; the wave of anger still flowing from her was nearly drowning out Anra's own thoughts. "Why doesn't he get up?" Anra said.

  "He can't. He's dead." Fiella began to shake. "I'm not sorry." She covered her face.

  "Too bad you didn't kill this one, too," Kierlus said, gripping his prisoner tightly. The stranger tried to twist away. "Of course, he might be able to tell us a few things. If he refuses, we can tear the answers out of him. He can't shield himself against all of us, and we won't have to be concerned about how much damage we do to his mind."

  "Stop it," Anra said. "He didn't do anything."

  "Didn't do anything!"

  "He was trying to shield Paeter and me during the fight. He even tried to warn me and protect me before we let down our walls, but I was too foolish to see it."

  Riene had torn a piece of cloth from her tunic and was binding Paeter's injured arm. The others sat down as Viva went to Fiella. Fiella seemed calmer now, but her face was still pale and her mouth twitched slightly. Kierlus released the prisoner, watching him suspiciously as if expecting him to escape. The boy sat down; Kierlus remained standing, on guard.

  "Your group came here to kill us," Anra said. "You lured us out here and tricked us into opening our minds. What did you think you'd gain?"

  "I didn't want to do it," the boy answered. "I tried to talk them out of it before we came here."

  "Don't lie," Gennon said. "We can easily find out if you're telling the truth."

  "I know." He lifted his head, looking directly at Anra. "Can anyone hide the truth?" He turned his head, looking up at Kierlus. "Sit, if you like. I won't run away—there's nowhere for me to go." The tall boy folded his arms, but remained standing. "I tried to protect some of you with a wall."

  "You could have fought with us," Kierlus said.

  "And betray my own companions?" The boy turned toward Anra again. "That I couldn't do. I only wanted to prevent death." His face hardened. "Surely your ordeal should have taught you how to protect yourselves without lashing out. That's what I expected you to do when I threw my own wall around you, but instead, you attacked. How did you ever endure your ordeal?"

  Anra said, "We don't have that custom."

  The boy shook his head, clearly surprised.

  "Why are you here at all?" Anra went on. "Why aren't you in your own village?"

  "There is no village now."

  "What happened to it?" she said more gently.

  "First, our Merging Selves left this life. Knowing that our world would end, they couldn't bear to live, and they called out to God, Who mercifully took their souls." The boy paused. "Our Net was weak after that, and we began to fight. Some of my people believed that if we purged ourselves completely of sin, our world would be restored to us. Then a dying woman spoke to us and said that she heard God calling to us, telling us that this cycle was ending and that we would become part of a final unity. Some thought she spoke the truth and others thought she was mad. Each group began to seek the death of the other." He bowed his head. "Now many of them are in the next world, where it's not possible to sin any more, so I suppose they've found out who was right. My companions and I could not decide between them, so we fled."

  Anra trembled, grateful that she was not touching the boy's thoughts; she could not have endured his memories.

  "We've been wandering since then," he continued. "We've seen a few other wandering bands, so other villages must be divided as well." He cleared his throat. "At first, my companions and I didn't know where to go, and then we realized we were near you. Fersen said that if we took lives here, lives of sinners, that we'd be blessed. I tried to tell him that we couldn't, that we were too few, that your village might by now have some magic to aid us, since it was you who first learned of the sky-dwellers and the ones called Minds. Fersen said that wandering had addled my wits, and then he told me that he would kill me himself if I spoke against his intention."

  Anra kept her face still, not wanting to betray her feelings. The boy's words had moved her. "What's your name?" she asked at last.

  "Olin TiyVen." He waved a hand at the dead man. "That's Fersen GioraPaal there. You should know his name before you bury him." Olin lifted his head. "You've taken one life—it will be easier for you to take mine."

  Jaan tugged at his mustache. "We won't strike out at one who refuses to fight."

  "Then you'll send me away, I suppose. I won't live long if my companions find me."

  Anra glanced at her friends, sensing faint thoughts. "It depends on you," she answered. "Do you want to stay here instead?"

  Olin started; Kierlus looked unhappy.

  "We want to help other Earthfolk, don't we?" she continued. "Surely we can welcome one boy."

  "If what he's told us is true," Kierlus muttered.

  "He should open his mind to Leito and the other old ones," Gennon said. "He might try to strike at us later. They'll quickly find out if he has such a hidden purpose."

  "I don't want to fight you," Olin said wearily. Anra found herself believing him. She reached out tentatively; below his surface thoughts, she felt only fatigue, hunger, and a longing for rest.

  Olin frowned as she withdrew. "Why do you speak aloud in this clumsy way? You have your mindpowers, such as they are—why must you use speech?"

  "Don't tell him anything," Barla burst out. "Let the old ones search his mind first. He may be trying to find our weaknesses."

  "If I had such a purpose, I would refuse to open my mind at all." Olin stood up. "I must bury Fersen now. His son was my friend and his daughter endured her ordeal with me—he'll be with both of them now. He was a good man before he began to wander." He went to the body and bowed his head.

  Old Ede was sitting outside his hut when the young people passed him; he lifted his jug and swallowed. Five children, untended, played in another villager's garden, heedless of the rows of vegetables they were trampling under their feet. Two women stumbled past, raised their eyebrows when they saw Olin, then entered another hut. Anra could hear the raucous laughter inside. She glanced at Olin; he pressed his lips together.

  They skirted the public space, where a few villagers sat together next to a shuttle as one man tossed bottles to them from the craft's door; other bottles, now empty, were strewn on the ground. Anra thrust her hands inside her pockets. Olin had not yet seen the village's greatest shame—the ones who lay inside their huts dreaming, drawing on the remaining energies of the Minds to fuel their imaginary escapes, for they had discovered that the Minds, as well as Homesmind, could feed them dreams.

  "Now I understand why you don't mindspeak," Olin said abruptly. Kierlus's face reddened; Viya looked pained.

  "Some are weak," Paeter responded. "We're not all that way." He waved an arm at Jen, Areli's partner, who lay in the middle of the road, snoring. Areli, even with her own fears and doubts, had grown so disgusted with the old man that she now refused to let him enter their hut; rather than find another home, Jen had taken up residence in the road. The group tiptoed around the outstretched, plump body; Jen snorted and threw an arm over his eyes. His tunic was torn and filthy, and he stank.

  "I can't judge you," Olin said softly. "At least you don't fight among yourselves, and you still have your village."

  "For now," Anra said. Olin glanced at her, but she did n
ot explain.

  Several old ones came to Leito's hut, where they all linked minds, Merging Selves once more. After probing Olin's thoughts, memories, and feelings, they withdrew; he now had no secrets from them.

  Olin leaned against the table where he sat with the old people, clearly exhausted by the probe. Mila smiled at the boy while Areli, sensing his hunger, brought him a bowl of soup. He gulped it down.

  "We see that he means no harm," Leito said. She was leaning against Vasen, who sat next to her. "Poor child. His people have suffered."

  Areli handed the boy a cup of water and a small package; Olin peered at the package suspiciously. "It is food," Areli said. "You have to remove the wrapping. It comes from that vessel you saw."

  "Will it make me sick?"

  "We're not about to poison you," Areli replied, sounding offended.

  Olin tore off the wrapping and devoured the food. "It tastes strange." He turned toward the other side of the room, where Anra was sitting with her friends. "Is it skydweller food, then?"

  She nodded.

  "Where are the skydwellers?"

  Anra looked at Leito. The old woman seemed even weaker than usual; the thread tying her to life had grown thinner during the past months.

  "There are no skydwellers here now." Leito sagged against her son. Vasen and Geve, Wiland's father, lifted her from the bench and carried her to her mat. "Stay," she said to her guests. "This boy has shown us some important things. If people are now falling into separateness and wandering, then others may come here. Some may fight us, but others may be seeking refuge."

  Geve sat down next to her; he had deep creases around his eyes, but his hair and beard were still as black as his son's. "How can we help them?" he asked. "How can we prepare them for what must come? What kind of life can we show them as we are now?"

  "May I speak?" Olin said. Vasen nodded. "Few will reach out to you. Others are likely to come here for other reasons, and you have no defenses, unless you're hiding them. Do the skydwellers have a way to guard you?"