Child of Venus (34 page)

Perhaps that was only because, unless Mahala was standing in a place where she could see through a dome, she could forget that the dome was there to shield her from the dangers outside. Maybe she was simply more used to domed Islands and settlements. Maybe she had more faith in the Habber technology that had created the ceramic-metallic alloy of the dome material than she did in the engineers from Earth who had designed and built Anwara. That was also not a thought to dwell on for long.

She continued:

You might be interested to know that Jamilah al-Hussaini traveled with us on the airship to the Platform and on the shuttle to Anwara. She's still here, staying with members of the Project Council in their quarters, waiting to meet Masud al-Tikriti when he arrives. She spoke to all of us on the airship and sounded as though she has a lot of respect for the new Administrator.

And that, Mahala thought, was probably all she should say on an open channel about Jamilah and Masud.

She concluded:

Please give my regards to everyone in the household— I don't mind if you show them this message. I would tell you when I might be visiting, except that we haven't been told anything about when we might get some time off, and right now it's too soon to ask.

October 649

From: Mahala Liangharad, Anwara, Center Ring, Room
432

To: Frania Astarte Milus, Turing

I owe you an apology, Frani. I should have sent you a message a long time ago. You didn't say how much longer you would be at Dyami's house, but if you've left already, I hope you pick this up soon so you don't think I'm ignoring you.

You didn't say anything about why you and Ragnar decided to wait a little while longer before making your pledge. Is it because you might be spending more time on the Islands for your training? Not that I mean to pry— you don't have to answer that.

As for how I'm doing here, I've been working with the physicians and learning about what therapeutic implants are useful in treating people who have problems adjusting to Anwara. That may sound like the kind of work a paramedic in training might be doing, but it's been giving me some ideas about—well, maybe I'll go into that another time.

If you're still at Dyami's, show him and Amina this message and tell them that I'll be sure to send them one in the next day or so. I am getting behind in all of my messages.

October 649

From: Mahala Liangharad, Anwara

To: Dyami Liang-Talis, Turing

I've been here for over two months now, and I'm still not sure why I'm here. Neither are any of the other students. I'm doing some of the work of a paramedic and Chike Enu-Barnes spends some of his time learning about the life-support systems here and the rest of his time in the chemistry labs. It's pretty much like that with all of us. Solveig's spending a lot of her time with the astronomers and astrophysicists, which is what she wants, but even she admits that she would probably be making more progress with her studies—with physics, which is still allegedly her specialization—if she were back on Island Two.

It's not that we mind the work. Given what has to be done simply to maintain life support here, we've all ended up appreciating the Islands and the settlements more than we did; Anwara is potentially more unstable as an environment and more dependent—almost completely dependent—on the outside. Our main problem as students is that we're keeping up with our studies mostly through readings and with our bands and screens. We hear lectures, but there isn't much discussion with the specialists here. About the only person who spends much time discussing our studies with us is Orenda, our adviser, and she isn't equipped to go that deeply into most of our courses.

I could ask her what the purpose was in bringing us here, but since we haven't been here for very long, she might think I'm being impatient. Or maybe we're supposed to have figured it out by now.

Solveig led Mahala and Chike past the entrance to the observatory and into a small meeting room. Except for a low table with screens and a few cushions, the room was empty.

“We can talk here,” Solveig said. “The astronomers come in here for meetings, and they basically hinted to me that they scan the place periodically for any listening devices the Project Council might have planted.”

The blond girl sat down on a cushion. Mahala and Chike seated themselves across from her. “You're sounding awfully conspiratorial,” Mahala said.

“This is important, but it isn't exactly a secret,” Solveig said. “At least it won't be. You know where the Habitats have been for some years now.”

“Of course we do,” Chike muttered. One followed Earth's orbit, but kept on the other side of the sun; Mahala had always assumed that this was the Habitat in which Malik and Benzi lived when they were not on Venus and that it was also the home of the other Habbers who were staying among the Cytherians, since it was closer to Venus than any of the other Habs. Two Habs were inside the Martian satellites Phobos and Deimos, three were in high orbits around Mars, five were in the asteroid belt, and three had begun to move toward Jupiter two decades ago and were following the gas giant's orbit around the sun at a distance.

Solveig took a breath. “Two of the nearer Habitats orbiting Mars have left orbit,” Solveig said, “and they're following a path that will take them closer to Earth. My astronomer friends here made the observations and confirmed them.”

“Does the Project Council know?” Mahala asked.

“Of course they do,” Solveig replied. “They have to know. You don't think anyone's going to keep that a secret, do you? They couldn't hide it anyway—I'm sure Earth's orbiting observatories and Lunar telescopes have made the same observations. They'll have to say something publicly about this soon.”

“What can it mean?” Mahala said.

Chike glanced at her. “Seems to me that it can mean only one of two things.
Maybe the Mukhtars and the Habbers have come to some sort of agreement allowing the Habbers to move
into this part of our system for whatever reason—more aid for Earth, more assistance for the
Project Or else the Habbers are simply doing this on their own to see how Earth will react.”

“Why would they want to provoke Earth?” Mahala asked. “There's no point.”

“Don't assume you'd know what they'd do,” Chike said, “just because you've got a couple of kinsmen with them.” Mahala grimaced, but he had said the words gently, clearly not meaning to offend her.

“I still don't think they'd be doing that unless they were sure the Mukhtars had no objection,” Mahala said.

Chike shook his head in disagreement. “Maybe the Habbers want to see what the Guardian forces will do.”

Solveig had a strange smile on her face as she turned toward Chike. “The Habbers don't have to test the Guardians,” she murmured. “They don't have to worry about the Guardians at all, because the Habbers are probably the only reason the Nomarchies still exist, that any of us are alive, that millions and maybe even billions didn't die on Earth long ago.”

“What do you mean?” Chike asked.

“If you knew more astronomy and astrophysics, you'd see,” Solveig replied, “and you should be able to figure it out even with what you do know. Think of all those asteroids that have been mined and brought in closer to Earth. They aren't there just because Earth needs the resources or because the Habbers like throwing Earth a few small gifts once in a while. I've looked at the records the astronomers here can call up. One of the first asteroids the Habbers sent toward Earth was previously on a course that would have resulted in a direct strike on the home world. It seems that the Habbers altered its course so that it ended up in orbit instead, harmless and ready to be mined, which means that the Habbers are responsible for the fact that Earth isn't a dead planet by now.”

“That can't be true,” Mahala said. “One of the responsibilities of the Guardians is to deflect any objects that might threaten Earth.”

“And have you ever heard of them doing that? Think, Mahala—the closer any such object is to Earth, the more power it would take to deflect it from its course. The Guardians might have the capacity to do it, but it would be costly, and as it is, they've never had to perform such a mission, because the Habbers can probably do it for them much sooner and with much less energy.”

Chike leaned forward. “How could anybody keep something like that a secret all this time?”

“It wouldn't be that hard,” Solveig said. “How many people on Earth get to learn much of anything at all? Even on Venus, advanced schooling and university training is parceled out. Given how few among us have any training in even basic astronomy and astrophysics, there are probably specialists and even Linkers who would have a hard time finding out anything about past movements of asteroids and other bodies, and others wouldn't be interested enough to bother doing a search for it.”

Chike scowled. “And you've found out something that many Linkers don't know. That's hard to swallow, Solveig.”

“I didn't figure it out. The astronomers here did, and I'm sure others have to know. Every astronomer and astrophysicist certainly knows, and probably a good many other specialists. But it's not something to talk about carelessly with just anybody, or to publish a study about, unless you really want trouble.”

Solveig could be wrong, Mahak thought; her mentors could be making guesses with insufficient evidence. If there was any truth in what her friend had said, the Linkers would have set up blocks long ago that would keep anyone from gathering any confirming data on such a sensitive subject.

Chike's dark eyes darted from Mahala to Solveig. She could read his expressions more easily since they had come to Anwara. She saw him struggling with himself, almost believing Solveig and yet trying to remain skeptical.

“I'm thinking,” Chike said, “of one of your grandfather's lectures.” He was gazing steadily at Mahala now.

“I didn't know that you were that interested in history,” she said.

“There's no point in being overly interested in history,” he said, “if you're a Cytherian. After all, it's not that useful a subject for those who are creating a new world free of the past.” He paused. “In one of his lectures, Malik mentioned the Resource Wars briefly and said that the first one came at a time when most people on Earth had access to a flood of information. He hinted that this might have been a factor contributing to the crisis. We think that those wars were fought mostly over control of fossil fuels or scarce arable land and other natural resources, but Malik hinted that having larger and larger numbers of people able to collect data on all sorts of subjects might have been one cause of the conflict.”

“I don't see why,” Solveig murmured.

“Just because people could investigate all kinds of things,” Chike said, “doesn't mean they knew how to assess what they found out or how reliable their information was. A lot of them, maybe even most of them, probably didn't know how to figure out what was the truth and what might have been mistaken conclusions—or even something meant to be deliberately misleading. Think of how much time we've already spent in school learning how to think about things and how to reason about them. Think of how Linkers have to be trained so that they can call up exactly what they need to know without being flooded with too many irrelevant facts. Too much information with no way of sorting it can be almost as bad as none at all.”

“Are you saying that people might have drawn the wrong conclusions from all the information they had?” Mahala asked. “And that helped to bring the Resource Wars about?”

Chike nodded. “That's exactly what I'm saying. And the survivors realized afterward that information was another resource they would have to control unless they wanted to risk an even more destructive conflict. Control of information is what gives the Mukhtars their power.”

Solveig frowned and said nothing. Mahala found herself recalling a brief conversation that she had overheard between Dyami and Balin. She had been in the kitchen, helping Frania clean up after supper, and had wandered into the common room to see if there were any dishes left on the table.

“Do your people expect gratitude?” Dyami had asked Balin. “Is that what it's about?”

“No,” the Habber had replied. “Gratitude? Some appreciation for our
good deeds? We certainly never expected gratitude—only hurt pride and resentment.”

“Which is exactly what you got,” Dyami murmured in the same slightly mocking tone.

“And maybe we'll finally realize that resentment and rancor is all
we'll ever have for whatever aid we manage to give, and—”

“Mahala,” Dyami said when he had spotted her in the doorway. Balin had glanced at her and then fallen silent.

What had Balin been about to say? That the Habbers might tire of the present situation and demand some recompense from Earth? But what could Earth possibly offer them? The Habbers had a superior technology, greatly extended lives, the demeanor of people who were largely satisfied, content, and untroubled by many of the more disagreeable human emotions. Perhaps now they finally wanted to be entirely free of Earth and its needs.

She thought then of what Benzi had told her, that Habbers were contemplating leaving this system altogether. There was nothing to stop them from doing so, nothing except whatever sentimental feelings they might have for their ancestral world or emotional ties they might have to individual Cytherians. Perhaps they had lost any fear they might have of diverging from the rest of humankind. She could not guess at most of the consequences of such an exodus, except for one: Earth would surely tighten its grip on Venus, since there would be nothing to prevent that.

She considered Balin. He loved Dyami; she was certain of that, despite his decision to leave Turing. Benzi could not be completely indifferent to the fate of the Cytherians. Malik would not have come back to the Islands if he cared nothing for the people he had left behind.