Child of Venus (12 page)

“Why not?”

“I'll try to explain. Malik was unhappy here. He wasn't one of those who came to Venus willingly—he came because he was in disgrace on Earth and there was nowhere else for him to go. He tried to make a life for himself on Venus, but he was unhappy here, and when a chance came to flee, he took it. I was younger than Malik when I became a Habitat-dweller, and I still found the adjustment difficult. For him, it's been harder still. He was a scholar on Earth and a teacher here, but he has no function now except that of a child who is still learning. The temptation is always there for him to retreat into the sensory experiences his Link can provide.”

“But why won't he answer you?”

“Because he wants no messages from Venus,” Benzi said. “He told me so years ago, after I sent a message telling him that Risa had brought his grandchild to her house. He's struggling with his new life. It's too painful to be reminded of the old, of the people he abandoned.”

“Wouldn't he even have a message for me?”

Benzi shook his head. “Try to understand. Malik still wonders if he did the right thing. To hear from you or any of the others here would only reopen old wounds.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “Maybe, after enough time has gone by, he'll want to hear about you. It was many years before I could even think about the parents I left, but in time I volunteered to ferry settlers from Earth to Anwara. It took even longer to bring myself to come here.”

“Do you think he'll ever come back?” she asked.

“I can't say.”

“Well, if he doesn't, I'll have to go see him.”

Benzi sat up. “You'd be willing to do that?” A smile flickered across his lips. “You wouldn't be afraid we'd keep you there and refuse to let you come back?”

“No. I wish—” Mahala drew her brows together. “I wish I could
see other places.”

“Maybe you will. In the meantime, there's always a mind-tour. Many prefer that to actual travel.”

“I don't. I know they're not real, however they look and feel, that they're only something somebody else put together. You're only seeing what they want you to see. I want to be in a place and see it for myself.”

“I'll confess something to you,” Benzi said. “One of the
reasons I left the Project was that I didn't want to be limited to one world. I
thought—” The distant look had entered his eyes again. “Yet here I am. Apparently
I still have my own small contribution to make to this world. Risa would expect me to remind you
that you have a new world to build.”

“But I'll never see it. We'll still be living inside these domes when I'm old.”

“Things could change, Mahala. Maybe—” Benzi stiffened and held up a
hand. He would be opening his Link to a message from another Habber. Maybe he was wrong about her
grandfather; perhaps Malik had suddenly decided to send a message after all.

Benzi's eyes closed; except for an occasional twitch of his mouth, she would have thought he was in a trance. He opened his eyes and focused on her.

“The message was from Balin,” he said. Balin, who was also a Habber, lived
with other Habbers in Turing, but often stayed with Dyami at his house. The two men had been lovers
for some time. Once, some people would have disapproved of their relationship because it involved
one man loving another. Now others were more likely to be critical of the pair because it was a
Habber whom Dyami loved.

“Was it about Dyami?” Mahala asked.

“Yes. He didn't tell me much, only that Dyami would be coming to Oberg as soon as possible. He might already be calling Risa about that. It seems he has something very important to discuss with my sister.”

“What could it be?”

“It concerns Amina's niece. Amina's sister and her bond-mate were among those who died in that airship bay accident in ibn-Qurrah.” Benzi's voice was steady, but his hand shook as he clutched Mahala's shoulder. Risa had said that Habbers had trouble dealing with any death, knowing as they did that their odds of an accidental death increased during the course of their long lives. Even a death that came at the end of a long and happy life disturbed them, and Amina's sister could not have been that old.

“How awful for Amina,” Mahala whispered.

“Her sister left a daughter who's about your age. Apparently Amina and Dyami have already brought the girl back to their house.”

“But then why would Dyami be coming here? Amina must need him there even more now.”

Benzi released her. “I think Dyami is going to ask Risa to let you go back with him.”

“But how can you—”

“Dyami's wanted to bring you there for some time, and so have I. We've discussed the possibility in the past. Now there's even more reason for him to bring you to his home.”

She was about to ask him why he and Dyami had been considering such plans for her, and then the Habber rose to his feet. “I had better go to Risa,” he said. “She'll be concerned about Amina when Dyami gives her the news,” he added, then hurried from the room.

 

6

“I can't do that,” Risa was saying. “Don't get me wrong, I'd do almost anything for Amina. If you think it would do her and the child good to come here for a while, I can find room for them. Surely that would make more sense than dragging Mahala off to Turing.”

Mahala sat in the corner of her grandparents' bedroom. Benzi and Dyami sat on cushions near her, while Risa and Sef were seated on the bed. They would have been more comfortable in the common room, but then everyone else in the household would have been offering an opinion on Dyami's proposal.

“I'm not dragging her off,” Dyami said. “Amina's niece could use a young friend now, but Mahala has to decide if she wants to live with us or not.” He glanced at Mahala. “This has always been your home, and I don't want you feeling that I pressured you into doing something you didn't want to do.”

Mahala tried to imagine what it must be like for the girl. Amina's niece Frania, in the space of a few hours, had suddenly lost a mother and father; that had to be much worse than never knowing one's parents at all. Amina and her sister had lost their mother a couple of years ago, and their father was now an old man. Amina had, according to Dyami, promised her sister that she would become Frania's guardian if anything happened to both of the girl's parents.

“You always say,” Dyami continued, “that it isn't good for any child to be the only child in the house.”

“So now you'll use my own words against me.” Risa shook her graying head. “That girl wouldn't be the only child in your house if you'd had one of your own by now. You could have made an arrangement of some kind. You might have talked Amina into it—you could have done worse than making that good young woman your bondmate and giving her a child by whatever means you could.”

Dyami scowled, but Risa had said the words gently, and at last his face softened. “Amina's my friend, but she was never sure if she wanted a child of her own. I wasn't about to use her simply to give you another grandchild.” He looked around at the others. “But we have a child to care for now, and we're prepared to welcome her. I also think Frania and Mahala might both benefit by making a home with us.”

Mahala sighed. This whole business concerned her, so naturally she had to be present, but it did not look as though the matter would be settled very easily.

“Forgive me, son.” Risa rested her elbows on her folded legs.
“I'm getting to be an old woman, and I've picked up the bad habit of repeating
myself even when I know it won't change anything. I'd miss Mahala terribly, but I can
understand why you want her with you now. What I don't understand is how you and Benzi could
have been plotting to steal her from me all this time, with no thought of—”

“Stealing her!” Dyami raised his brows. “Isn't that a little harsh? We admitted that we've discussed her future in the past. We weren't about to do anything without speaking to you first.”

“This isn't just about Amina's niece. You're using that as an excuse.”

“Helping that child,” Benzi said,”would be a good enough reason by
itself for Mahala to go, but I'll admit that it isn't the only reason. She would have
more chances in Turing. Even in just a few years, it's clear that the students there are far
ahead of those in the other settlements. She'd have better teachers and a better school, as
well as a chance to meet more of my people—Turing is still the only one of the surface
settlements where we Habbers feel completely at ease.”

“That's all very well,” Risa said, “but she can learn everything she needs to know here, and I can't see what she would gain by meeting more Habbers.”

“Risa.” Sef put his hand over hers. “It's unkind to say that to your brother.”

“It isn't that I have anything against them, but even Benzi would admit that they're very different from us.” She gazed steadily at her Habber brother and said, “I've had people come to me, just a few, worried that their children look at your people and see how free they are and how much longer their lives are than ours, and then wonder why they can't have an easier life doing what they like instead of settling for the harder lives we have to live. Maybe it's better if you keep your distance.”

Benzi held up a hand. “Isn't it pointless to go on about this until we've asked Mahala what she thinks?”

“Mahala,” Risa said, “is only eight years old.”

“Almost nine,” Mahala interrupted.

“She's still a child.”

Dyami rested his back against the wall. “She's old enough to make certain choices, and this one isn't irreversible. She can always come back to Oberg if she decides that's what she prefers.” He turned toward Mahala. “What do you think?”

All of them expected something of her, and she could not fulfill the hopes of one without hurting another. Why did so many of their hopes have to rest with her? Maybe it was just as well that her grandfather Malik had not come back; he would have been yet another adult making demands on her, waiting for her to measure up to his expectations.

“I don't know what I think.” Mahala got to her feet. “Hearing all of you arguing about it isn't helping me to decide.” She moved toward the door. “I'm going over to Solveig's, if it's all right with you.”

“It's almost time for supper,” Sef said.

“I can eat there. Solveig and Ragnar probably owe me for all the meals they've had here. Maybe I'll get a chance to think.” She left the room.

Einar Gunnarsson's household was already eating when Mahala arrived, but they made a place at the table for her. Ragnar pushed a large bowl of beans toward her while his mother went to the kitchen to fetch a plate.

“Do your grandparents know you're here?” Einar asked. He was a tall, rangy man, with hair nearly as blond as his son's.

“I told them where I was going,” Mahala replied.

“Just wanted to make sure, since nobody called to say you were on your way.
Maybe I should call—”

Thorunn Ericsdottir returned and set a plate in front of Mahala. “Let the girl eat in peace,” she said to her bondmate. “You can call her grandparents afterward.”

Mahala helped herself to some beans. This family was a lot quieter at meals than her household. Thorunn began to speak to her brother Ingmar about a new strain of cabbage she wanted to try in their family greenhouse; Einar was silent. Solveig had told Mahala that her father thought a lot of talk at meals was bad for the digestion. Even Lars, resting in a cradle at his mother's side, let out only a occasional whimper.

“Thank you for supper,” Mahala said when they had finished eating.

Einar grunted. “You're welcome anytime,” Thorunn said as she stood up. “We always have enough for one more, especially someone who eats as little as you do.”

“I've seen her eat a lot more than that,” Ragnar said.

“Well, I hope you had enough, then.” A look of concern crossed Thorunn's fine-boned face. “Did something disagree with you?”

“Oh, no.” Mahala tried to smile. “It was delicious, Thorunn. I just wasn't that hungry.”

“I'll call Sef,” Einar said, “and tell him Mahala's here. Ought to find out when he expects her back home.”

“You'll want some fresh fruit for breakfast,” Solveig said to her mother. “We'll go out and get some.” She motioned to Mahala; Ragnar followed them outside.

“What is it, Mahala?” Solveig murmured as they hurried toward the family's small greenhouse. “Something's bothering you.”

“Dyami's been arguing with Risa ever since he got here.”

“What about?”

“He wants me to go back to Turing with him. He says it's because of Frania, Amina's niece—because it'd help her to have a friend now, someone else living with her who also doesn't have a mother and father.”

Solveig pressed open the greenhouse door. “He may be right. Losing both her parents—that must be hard. I can't see why your grandmother would mind.” They walked past shelves of cabbages, tomatoes, and sprouting potato plants until they came to a row of dwarf peach trees. “You can do your lessons in Turing just as easily as here, and we're getting another break from school soon anyway.”

“You don't understand. Dyami wants me to live there, at least for a while. He and Benzi have been talking about it. That's why Risa got so upset—because they admitted they were thinking about it all along. It isn't just because of Amina's niece.”

A few cloth bags hung on the wall near them. Solveig pulled one off its hook. “Frankly, I think you're lucky.” She studied the peaches, then reached for one. “I wouldn't mind going to a school in Turing for a while. They say some of the Habbers there even come to the classes sometimes.” She slipped the ripe peach into her bag as Ragnar picked another. “I'd like to talk to a specialist who really knows something about astronomy.”