Child of Venus (44 page)

“But I have to get to Lyata,” the woman was saying to the paramedic. “My sister is expecting me. She's probably in the middle of giving birth to my nephew right now.”

“All the more reason to make sure you don't pass anything on to him that could be dangerous,” Wendolyn murmured soothingly. “The cybermind tells me that this is a new virus, so it'll take a couple of hours to make a specific antidote, but we should have you cleared and ready to leave no more than twelve hours from now.”

“I'll lose almost one whole day off. I only have five.”

“I'm sorry. You'll have to stay here, too.” Wendolyn gestured toward a waiting area of chairs, cushions, and three cots near the lavatory door. The whole problem could have been avoided had the passenger gone to a physician or paramedic for a scan earlier, as all travelers were advised to do; she would have been treated then and have been cleared by now. But there were always a few people who did not bother to get scanned until they came to the bay.

Wendolyn glanced at the results of Mahala's scan on her small screen, then waved her ahead, as Mahala had expected; Tasida had scanned her in their examination room. She hurried toward a group of people standing near one airship cradle. The airship cabin, looking small under the vast metallic bullet-shaped balloon of helium cells that fueled the dirigible, was nested in the cradle. No one had yet opened the doors or lowered the ramps for passengers to board.

“Oberg?” Mahala asked.

A gray-haired man nodded at her. “Yes, but this gasbag isn't leaving for another hour at least. The pilots say a failed component needs to be replaced.”

Across the cavernous bay, a few more people stood near another cradle holding an airship. Several tall crates of cargo formed a wall partly blocking her view, and then a tall figure with a long blond braid moved out from behind a crate.

“Ragnar,” Mahala whispered. He had seen her; he stood still and waited as she walked toward him. The five people with him were all young, and one of them was Ouray Chang, whom Mahala had examined only yesterday, to make certain that he was fit for Bat duty. She suddenly knew why Ragnar was here.

“Greetings, Mahala,” Ouray said.

She ignored him. “You volunteered,” she said to Ragnar. “You're going to one of the Bats, aren't you.”

He gazed at her steadily. She wanted to lash out at him, but could not tell him that he was taking a risk he did not have to take in front of others who had made the same choice. She could not consider his life more precious than theirs, or their lives more expendable.

Ouray's eyes shifted from Mahala to Ragnar, and then he drifted discreetly away, followed by the others. “Yes,” Ragnar said, “I volunteered.”

“When did this happen?” She kept her voice low.

“Five days ago. They gave me a job monitoring the automatic ship operations, so I'll be in a control room or a lock most of the time. I won't be suited up and out on the docks.”

“Unless they suddenly need a few extra people to replace failed components.”

Ragnar's mouth twisted. “There's always that chance, but the odds are I'll be relatively safe. Frani'll be at the Platform when our airship gets there, so we'll have a few hours together before my shuttle leaves for the southern Bat.”

“So you told her what you were going to do.”

“Of course I told her. She's my bondmate. She didn't want me to go, but it didn't exactly come as a surprise to her, and I had to arrange things with my team leader at work. I gave our cats to a household in the east dome—they're having more trouble with vermin there, so they can use them. And I sent a message to the Turing Council today saying that any new arrivals who need a place to stay temporarily could use the house.” He looked away for a moment. “That's unless you and Solveig want to move there for a while.”

She tried to imagine it, living in his house, thinking of the life she might have had there with him.

“Did you even tell Solveig?” she asked.

“I sent her a message just before coming here.”

“Because you knew she'd be with her students and wouldn't listen to your message until later. You knew she'd try to talk you out of this if you told her any sooner.”

“Maybe she wouldn't have,” Ragnar said. “Maybe she would have figured this was my business.”

“You don't have to do this,” she said. “You can tell them you've changed your mind.”

“And get a black mark for not honoring a commitment I made freely? I have enough marks on my record already. And I don't know why you're so concerned.”

She could not explain it to him. There were people she knew whom she would have argued with if they had volunteered, but in the end, she would have accepted their decisions. If Chike had come to her and told her that he was going to work on a Bat, she would have pleaded with him not to go and worried about his safety, but she would not have had feelings of fear and panic, because she could trust Chike's judgment. Others volunteered for Bat duty out of a sense of obligation, to make extra credit, to win some status for themselves, and all of them intended to finish their work there somewhat better off than when they started. They all expected to live. Ragnar might have some of their reasons for volunteering, but there were others—to prove himself, maybe even to risk a life he did not seem to value all that much.

“They're looking for settlers to move to Sagan now,” Ma-hala said. “You might have tried for that instead.”

“I heard the announcement.”

That's where you belong, she thought, not on a Bat. You should be in a place where you won't be alone so much and where you're relatively safe and where you can pursue your art among people who might appreciate it. The Habbers might have offered him a sympathy and an understanding that he had been unable to find among Cytherians. She was not sure why she was so certain of that; maybe it was because of what Dyami had said about his early days in Turing being so happy. The Habbers working in Sagan might have found a way to reach out to Ragnar.

“Well,” she said.

“Well, Mahala. You had your chance to worry about what I did with my life and to be involved with me. You turned it down. So don't start telling me what to do now.” He turned around and walked away from her.

Risa and Sef s household was as full of people as ever, and all of their housemates were there to welcome Mahala. Kyril Anders, the son of Barika Maitana and Kristof Anders, was now thirteen and hoping for a chance to study geology at an Island school; his sister Liesel Maitana, born five years ago, had grown into a sturdy child with her mother's black hair and warm brown eyes. Akilah Ching, the daughter of Risa's housemates Hoa Ching and Jamil Owens, was eleven, already strikingly beautiful, and intensely curious about Mahala's work as a paramedic. Also crowded around the table were Paul Bettinas and Grazie Lauro, along with Kolya Burian and Noella Sanger, who divided their time between this house and that of Noella's children.

Risa had lived her life among others, welcoming people into her household, concerning herself with the public affairs of Oberg and the other settlements. She was eighty-three now, her black hair showing more gray streaks, the lines around her brown eyes a bit more sharply etched; she had lived out most of her life, but could expect to go on for at least three or four more decades. She still worked her shifts at the External Operations Center and the community greenhouses, although with more time off than when she was younger. None of the brief messages she had sent to Mahala during the past two years, messages filled with news of Oberg, had given any indication of how Risa felt about the changes that might come to her world. Mahala thought of her visit here four years ago, when Risa had spoken of her regrets and of her feeling that the Habbers might abandon this system.

The people sitting around the long low table talked, asked about Dyami, then left it to Grazie to relate recent Oberg gossip while they dined on fish Kolya had caught, bread Sef had baked, and fruits and vegetables from the household's greenhouse. Mahala felt easier with the household than she had during past visits, maybe because she had stayed away long enough to miss them and to imagine the life she might have had if she had stayed here with her grandmother. She might have become Paul's medical apprentice and lived on in this house. Her bonds to these people and this community would have been so strong by now that it might have been almost impossible for her to break them, even for a chance at becoming part of the interstellar mission.

They ended the supper with some tea and a new concoction Andrew Dinel was now distilling and selling, a pale sweet alcoholic beverage its creator had ostentatiously dubbed Dinel's Cytherian Nectar. As Mahala had expected, Risa wanted to take a walk with her after supper, as she had so often during earlier visits.

“Going to see Yakov?” Sef asked. Yakov Serba was still on the Oberg Council and still often consulted with Risa.

“No,” Risa replied, “just a walk. We might stop by to see Ah Lin Bergen.”

“Risa's trying to talk your old schoolmate into running for the Council,” Grazie said, “now that a seat's opened up. Have you convinced her yet?”

“No,” Risa said, leading Mahala to the doorway.

“She is a bit young to think of running,” Grazie said.

“Maybe we need some younger people on the Council,” Barika said as she picked up an empty platter.

The door dosed behind Mahala and her grandmother. “If you'd stayed here,” Risa murmured, “maybe I would have been trying to convince you to run for the Council.” She said it gently, as though she was only ruminating on a possibility rather than regretting a lost opportunity. “Ah Lin would like to see you while you're here. She's sorry she hasn't sent you more messages.”

“I haven't sent her any for a while, either, so there's no reason for her to apologize.” Mahala paused. “So you think she'd make a good Councilor.”

“I think she'd be a good Councilor for Oberg. Whether that would be the best thing for her to do with her life right now is another matter.” Risa was walking along the path in the direction of the west dome's lake. “Have you heard anything from Benzi or from Malik?”

“No, I haven't.”

“I didn't think so. I had a message from Benzi a few days ago. He didn't say much more than that he had been spending a lot of his time with the Administrative Council and that Malik would be returning to the Islands soon, after the orbiting Habber ship docks at Anwara. Apparently the Habbers don't feel it necessary to keep a crew of observers in Venus orbit anymore.”

“Benzi didn't tell you much then.”

“I think he just wanted us to know that he and Malik hadn't completely forgotten about us.” Risa turned from the main road onto a dirt path, then halted. “Here we are.”

Her grandmother had stopped in front of a walled enclosure that adjoined a small house. Mahala had not seen this house before. “Is this where Ah Lin lives now?”

“She and two friends put it up about a year ago and moved in.” Risa gazed at the scanner lens embedded in the entrance, then pressed her hand against the door.

The door opened. Mahala followed Risa into a small grassy courtyard, where five people sat on blankets. Ah Lin Bergen was among them; the young woman got to her feet.

“Risa,” Ah Lin said, and then she clasped Mahala's hands. “Mahala, I'm glad she brought you.”

Risa seated herself; Mahala sat down next to her. Ah Lin passed them cups of tea. Eugenio Tokugawa was here, along with Mahala's former schoolmates Devaki Patel and Ellie Ruiz. The young man sitting next to Ellie was a stranger.

“You know everyone here, except for Tomas.” Ah Lin gestured at the young man, who had broad shoulders, a dark drooping mustache, and wore a pin with a chemist's beaker on his collar. “Tomas Sechen. He moved to Oberg a few months ago. This is Mahala Liangharad—she's Risa's granddaughter. Mahala went to an Island school, too.”

Tomas Sechen gazed at her impassively. “I was on Island Seven,” he said in a low-pitched voice, “but I grew up in the Galileo settlement.”

“Tomas is working in the main dome's labs,” Devaki Patel said.

“For a year,” Tomas added, “and then I'll have to find something else, preferably in another settlement. There isn't room for many more new arrivals in Oberg.”

“New settlers are needed in Sagan,” Ah Lin said. “I wish I could go
there myself, but they're not going to need teachers for a while.”

“Put your name in now, Ah Lin,” Risa said, “and when they do need teachers, you'll have a better chance of getting permission to move there later.”

Mahala turned toward her grandmother, surprised. Apparently Risa was not here to pressure Ah Lin into running for the Council.

“I may try for a place in Sagan,” Tomas said.

“If I were younger,” Risa said, “I'd ask to go myself.” She finished her tea and set down her cup. “And it wouldn't be just so that I could recapture my childhood, when there wasn't much in Oberg except for grass and young trees and tents for us to live in until we could put up some houses.”

“Maybe we should tell Mahala why we're here,” Ah Lin said.

“I'll tell her.” Risa leaned back against the wall. “We're here to talk. We're here to consider what might happen to the Project now. I'm older than all of you—I can look back and feel that I've contributed in my own way to getting us this far, and there's some satisfaction in that. But some of you younger people have the opportunity for another kind of accomplishment.”

“We've been having these meetings for a few months now,” Ah Lin said, “sometimes here, sometimes with other people elsewhere. Tomas says that a few people he knows in Galileo were getting together to talk.”

“In Turing, too,” Mahala said. “I've gone to three such meetings already. We sit around and talk about what might happen and what we'd like to see happen and whether or not any of us has a chance at becoming a spacefarer and even whether or not that expedition will ever become a reality.”