Child of Venus (26 page)

“That was why you left?” Mahala hesitated a moment. “Because of my mother?”

“I wouldn't quite put it that way, child. Chimene had simply robbed me of my one reason for remaining here.”

“Then why did you come back?”

“To see you.”

You're not part of my life, she wanted to say. You don't belong here; you have no right to come back and think you have any claim on me.

“Not that I expect you to have any feelings for me,” he murmured, “or any sense of obligation. I wanted to see what has passed here since I left. In a Hab, one can easily forget that time is passing, that indeed there is any history at all.”

She remembered that he had been a historian on Earth. That was what had brought him trouble; he had been accused of spreading dangerous ideas and questioning accepted historical theories. So his record said, at any rate. Mahala gazed at the man, trying to imagine him taking such a risk.

“In other words,” she said, “you came here to see what's happened since you left.”

“In a sense.”

“You could have found all of that out from Benzi.”

“But that wouldn't be the same as seeing it for myself.”

Her irritation with him was warming into anger. Did the man have any strong feelings at all? He was speaking as though he had some regrets about his past actions, but she heard little emotion in his voice.

Mahala leaned forward. “Do you know what I most dislike about you?” She swallowed. “What I dislike in all Habbers? It's as if nothing's real to you, that what we're doing here is only a game. You come here whenever you like and then leave whenever you please. You pretend you care about us, and some of you even fall in love with some of us, but this isn't your world, and you can always leave Venus and the people here behind. We might as well be part of a mind-tour for you. You'd get just as much out of that, and you wouldn't have to be away from your Habs.”

“There's some justice to what you say.”

She leaned forward. “Then why are you here?”

“Did you ever ask yourself what might happen if all the Habs ever left?”

“Left Venus again?”

Malik shook his head. “I said Habs, not Habbers. I am asking what might happen if all of the Habitats departed from this solar system.”

“But they couldn't. They—”

“But of course they could leave. Any Habitat is potentially a mobile world, as you should know, and humankind once had dreams of exploring interstellar space, dreams that were long postponed and then forgotten.” Malik seemed to be gazing at her more kindly, but perhaps she was imagining that. “The possibility of leaving has been discussed. What do you think would happen then?”

“There are five Habs orbiting Mars,” she replied, “two of them created from the Martian moons. If they left, the Mukhtars would claim Mars, I'm sure. Maybe they'd even begin planning another terraforming project there.”

“And here?” Malik asked.

“You must know the answer to that.” Mahala glared at him. “Earth and the Mukhtars would be in control of Venus again. There wouldn't be anything to stop them from tightening their grip. They wouldn't have to worry about what the Habbers might do. Oh, we could stand up to them for a while, but it wouldn't do any good. We couldn't hold out forever, and things would only be worse for us when it was over.” She took a breath. “Why are you asking me this?”

“Because some who live in the Habitats are saying that we should leave this system. What would we do if Earth acquires the will, and maybe even the means, to strike at us? Someone may yet come to power who thinks such an attack would be worth the risks. Whatever the result, many on Earth, and perhaps in the Habs, would die.”

“It couldn't happen,” Mahala said, compelling herself to believe that.

“Not now, maybe not a century from now. But it's still a possibility, however distant, and Habbers are used to long-term thinking. It may be better to leave before there's a chance for such a conflict, to put ourselves well out of Earth's reach.”

“All of the Habs wouldn't go,” she said. “The people in your Hab and Benzi's—they've always been closer to us than the others, haven't they?”

“Benzi is one of those advising us that it may be time to leave.”

The words numbed her. Mahala sat there, unable to speak, her body as still as stone while her inner voice shrieked at her. You lied, we mean even less to you than I thought, you came here pretending that we were part of your family, and all along you wanted to run away from us again. She wanted to rush from this dwelling and hurl the words at Benzi, who had intended to betray them all along.

“How can you—” Mahala struggled for breath. “Why are you
telling me—”

Malik clasped her hands between his. “Because we can't simply abandon Venus.”

“I think you could.” She jerked her hands away. “It would be easy for you. After all, you've done it before, you and Benzi both. You didn't care what leaving here might cost others.”

“Would I be speaking to you now if we weren't concerned? Do you think Benzi would have asked me to do so?”

“So you're here because he asked you.”

“Partly. But I also wanted to come.”

Mahala lowered her eyes, wondering what else to say to this man. He was here because he wanted to be; she did not know a lot about Habber customs, but was certain no one had compelled Malik to come here. Why had he told her that the Habbers were thinking of leaving the solar system? Surely they would be wiser to hide such intentions. If the Habbers left without warning, Venus could do little to stop them and Earth little more. The Habbers could be beyond the reach of the home world before the Mukhtars even guessed at their intentions. By telling her of their deliberations, he was taking a risk.

But Malik and Benzi would not be acting without the knowledge of other Habbers. Given their Links, and the presence of others of their people on Venus and its Islands, she doubted that the Habbers could keep secrets from one another for long. She could tell others what Malik had told her, but that might accomplish little. Who would believe her, one insignificant girl, in any case? Administrator Jamilah would have little reason to think a student here was more aware of future Habber intentions than she was, and the other Habbers would probably deny that what Mahala said was true. Benzi—and any other Habber, for that matter—could always say that Malik had misunderstood, that he had not lived long enough among them to understand their true intentions.

In addition to that, she would make matters much worse if others did believe her. Relations between Venus and the Habs would be poisoned by suspicion and doubt.

Mahala finally broke the silence. “Why are you telling me this?” she said softly. “You must realize I can't tell anyone else what you said without causing a lot of trouble, assuming anyone would even believe me in the first place.”

“Benzi thought it was important that you know.”

“Really,” she muttered. “He's just given me more to worry about.”

“You may have more of a role to play in this than you think,” he said.

She shook her head. “I'm here to study at an Island school. I mean to work as hard as I can so that I'll be admitted to the Cytherian Institute.”

“Why the Cytherian Institute?”

“One overwhelming reason,” she replied, “is that it's the only
way I'm likely to see Earth, and I very much want to see it.”

“And after that?”

She still did not know. “I suppose I'll figure that out later. I assume that the Habbers will stay here at least that long.”

“We'll remain as long as we have to in order to ensure this world's future. Nothing has been decided anyway—possibilities are being explored and weighed. We have also devoted a lot of effort to the Project, whether the Mukhtars care to admit that or not.”

“You mean that other Habbers devoted that effort.” She gazed directly at him. “You didn't.” She folded her arms. “What were you doing? On your Hab, I mean, before you came back here.”

Malik's face grew solemn. “I suppose you could say that I was adapting.” He looked away from her. “I had been a Linker on Earth. I thought that living with a Link among Habbers would be much the same. It isn't.” He was silent for a long time after that.

“Are you happy there?” she asked.

He made a sound that might have been a laugh. “I'm not unhappy.” He lifted a hand to smooth back his hair. “I have a favor to ask of you, Mahala. You may of course refuse to grant it.”

“What do you want?”

“Only a chance to talk to you from time to time. I'll do my best not to be intrusive. I would also like to accompany you the next time you go to the surface to visit.”

Mahala frowned. “But you can visit the settlements any time you like. The Administrators won't stop you. You could always let them believe that you regret what you did, that you might want to stay here permanently. The Project Council would love to hear from Administrator Jamilah that you're sorry for what you did.”

“Are you saying that you would rather not have me travel with you?”

She flushed. “I didn't mean that.” She had meant it, but was embarrassed to admit that now.

“It would be easier for me to see some of the people and places I used to know if you were my escort or my host, so to speak. I'll stay in the nearest Habber quarters if that's more convenient for everyone.”

He would probably want to see Risa. Mahala wondered what her grandmother would say to that, how she would feel about seeing her former bondmate again.

“Well.” Mahala rested her hand on her knees. “I don't see how I can refuse.”

“You're free to do so. I can always—”

“No, I really don't mind,” she said. “Besides, given what you told me, it probably wouldn't be wise to offend you.” He averted his eyes for a moment. “There's just one thing, though—if somebody doesn't want to see you, there won't be anything I can do about it. I'm not going to bring you to someone's home unless I know you'll be welcome there.” She was thinking of Risa and Sef.

“That's only proper.”

“I really have to go.” Mahala got to her feet. “There's one thing you never told me. All the Habbers here have some work to do, advising a team or working with the specialists and engineers or whatever. What's your work here?”

“I should have told you,” Malik said as he stood up. “I only found out just before you came that the Administrators here had reluctantly granted my request.” He led her toward the door. “I'll be teaching at your school.”

Benzi was sitting at a table not far from the Habber residence. He looked up as Mahala approached; he had obviously been waiting for her.

“Well, now I've met Malik,” she said as she sat down.

Benzi poured tea. “And what did you think?”

“I don't know.” Mahala reached for a cup. “It probably isn't fair to expect too much after just one short meeting.” She sipped some tea, then set her cup down. “You knew what he was going to tell me.”

“Approximately.”

“Maybe you even listened in.”

“You said you wanted to see him by yourself. Don't you think I'd respect that?”

Mahala leaned forward. “You're all thinking of leaving. That's what
he said. All of you may just—”

He shook his head slightly at her. No one was sitting near them, but two Guardians were strolling along a path in their direction. “You won't be abandoned,” he said softly. “We haven't been blind and deaf to the demands some of you have made. We've done what we could for Venus in the past, and I promise you that won't change.”

“Why did Malik have to tell me anything, then?” she asked.

“Are you saying that you would rather have remained ignorant?”

“What use is it to know about something you can't change or do anything about? I'd be happier not knowing. You Habbers seem perfectly content to have us know almost nothing about you as it is.”

“That could change,” he said. “It has to change. I wanted you to know because you may help to bring that change about.”

Mahala sat back in her chair. “
I
might help? I'm not exactly that important. Why me?”

Benzi smiled slightly. “Maybe partly because you are my grand-niece and Malik's granddaughter. That isn't the only reason, of course, and it's probably the least important one, but we're not entirely indifferent to genetic bonds.” His smile faded. “You're more like me—and like Malik—than you may realize. That's another reason for telling you.”

“You haven't even told me that much,” she said, “just that
you—”

He lifted a hand. “You know enough for the moment, considering that we Habbers are still wrestling with various choices ourselves.”

“And exactly what am I supposed to do now?”

“What you've been doing—learning, working toward the goals you have for yourself, living your life, discovering what you find worthwhile.”

Mahala said, “You make it sound like some sort of test.”

“In a sense, it is.”

Except that she did not know what she had to do to pass the test or even what his criteria were for judging her one way or another. What would she do, knowing that the Habbers were debating about whether they should abandon the rest of humankind altogether? That was the question Benzi had posed, and she did not know what answer he wanted.

It struck her then what the departure of the Habbers might mean. They had always been there, in their deliberate worlds. In a sense, everyone on Earth and Venus tended to look toward them—as a kind of help of last resort. She felt odd thinking in this way, but the insights seemed inescapable, and a part of her took pride in the fact that she was thinking for herself.