Authors: Pamela Sargent
"Are you going to be working with Jed?" she asked.
The Russian nodded. "But I was a greenhouse gardener before — that was the work I did in my village, along with homeostat repairs. I spent some of my credit learning airship repair because I wanted to get work in a port, but that was before I decided to go to a camp instead. I'm Nikolai Andreievich Burian." He smiled; Risa smiled back. Nikolai was wasting no time in telling the woman about himself.
"I don't suppose
you
know much about greenhouses." Risa glanced at Malik; he shook his head. "Too bad. Most of us have household greenhouses. It gives the Project a chance to try out new kinds of plants, and us an opportunity to earn some extra credit by selling or trading part of what we raise."
Malik looked down; apparently she had found something else to hold against him.
"Your friend Jed didn't seem all that happy with us," Nikolai said. "He doesn't seem to like people from the camps."
"It's a common feeling, but don't let it worry you. After you've been here a while, you can sit around and complain about the next arrivals. Come along with us if you like."
Nikolai smoothed back his brown hair. They followed Risa along the side of the main road; a couple of blue-clad female pilots sitting outside their dormitory waved at Risa as they passed. "One man seemed happy to see us," Nikolai said. "He told us he was in something called Ishtar and asked us to a meeting."
"Don't bother with them," she responded. "They're always trying to get their hooks into new settlers. Ishtar's a cult. They think all Cytherians should believe what they do, and they have irrational beliefs about some sort of spirit on this world that they worship."
"I believe in what I can see, nothing more."
Risa smiled a little more, obviously approving of Nikolai's answer. They were now near three large, glassy buildings set back from the main road. "Those are the main dome's community greenhouses," Risa said. "That's where our basic allotment comes from, and we supplement it with what we grow in our household greenhouses. You've got to wear a face mask when you work in there. The plants do better with a higher percentage of carbon dioxide, and it gives us a chance to test the strains that may thrive outside someday." She stopped to point at two long, low buildings in back of the greenhouses. "We've got laboratories there, and the building to the right refines and recycles. That's where we'll all end up, so useful elements can be extracted from our bodies. Of course, you'll get your space on one of the memorial pillars."
They walked on. "What's this Council Jed mentioned?" Nikolai asked.
"The Oberg Council. It has five members, who are elected by the settlers in these domes. The Council listens to complaints, settles any disputes people can't work out privately, or appeals to the Island Administrators if necessary. Occasionally, it meets with the Councils of the other settlements."
"And everyone here picks the members? They aren't chosen by the Administrators?"
"No," Risa said. "This is our home. If we have a problem specialists should handle, we go to them, but we make our own decisions about a lot of things. When you've been here for two years, you'll get to vote as well."
"We heard everyone has a say here," Nikolai said. "I'm glad to know it's true."
She glanced at him. "I'm always surprised at how many of you come here knowing so little about us."
"What do we have to know, except that we'll be freer here and able to build something for ourselves?"
"Come with me." The three crossed the road and moved toward the low wall at the base of the dome. "Look out there."
Malik peered through the dome. Lightning flashed for a second, revealing black, barren mountains so high he could see no valleys below. Droplets of acid rain glistened on the impermeable dome surface; in the distance, on another rocky shelf, he glimpsed the faint glow of another settlement. He had assumed that one reason for using a transparent material for these domes was to keep the settlers from feeling too closed in, but this sight made him uneasy and aware of how precarious humanity's hold on this world was.
"We have our limits, Nikolai," Risa continued. "The Mukhtars may often be far from our thoughts, but we aren't exactly free to do as we please. Out there, the atmospheric pressure would crush you, the heat would boil your blood, and the rain would eat away at your bones. Every time there's a quake, the dome's able to withstand it, but we have to send out our diggers and crawlers to make sure rocks are cleared away, and then see that none of our installations have been damaged."
She turned around and leaned against the wall. "Oberg has three domes with settlers and a fourth being made ready for more, but everything we build has to be maintained. Every Cytherian, including the children, learns at least one skill that can aid the community as a whole. Every action has to be measured against certain limits. You may, like many immigrants, be wondering why we don't clear more land for houses here so that you don't have to live in a tent, but those trees and plants help to maintain our oxygen level inside. We have a small lake in the center of the west dome, but it isn't there just for our pleasure — it and the streams you'll see keep the air from becoming too arid." She paused. "Much of the work we do involves simply trying to hang on to what we have."
"You almost make it sound like Earth," Nikolai said.
She shook her head. "Not quite. You'll have a chance to learn more than you would have there because that may make you a wiser and more valuable citizen. You'll be rewarded for good work, not just with credit, but with the respect others will give you if you earn it. You can make your life what you want it to be, instead of letting the Mukhtars and their representatives decide that for you. You can know that your children have a dream and a purpose. That's our real freedom — to know that our children will have more."
"I guess that's enough for me," Nikolai responded. "I don't mind work, as long as there's some reason for it. I couldn't see living and dying and making no difference to anybody, and that's what it was like where I was."
Risa was clearly devoted to her world. She seemed, Malik thought, totally without guile, unlike most of the people he had known. "You must be an inspiration to your own children," he said.
Her eyes grew colder. "I have no children."
"Surely some young man has made a pledge to you by now."
"No."
"In your case," Malik said, "with your attributes, certainly a temporary state of affairs."
She gazed at him indifferently. "My home's in the west dome," she said in a toneless voice. "I share it with my father, his companion Bettina Christies, and her son, Paul. The woman Paul loves is pregnant now, so she'll be joining us when she becomes his bondmate." She moved away from the wall and led them toward the main road again.
"When did you come here?" Nikolai asked.
"I was born on Island Two. I came here with my father when I was eight, with the first settlers. My mother died some time earlier." She fell silent, apparently determined to say nothing about her mother's deeds or the brother who had become a Habber.
They neared a slope that led from the road toward an opening under the wall. Risa nodded and smiled at a group of women as they walked by, then went ahead into the tunnel.
* * *
Risa's house was smaller than Malik had expected. He glanced around at the common room and the narrow hallways on either side of it, wondering where she would find space for him.
"That's Bettina's wing." Risa pointed to her left. "She has a small examining room where she can see people with complaints — she's a physician. We added a small lavatory for her recently. That's a bit of a luxury, but sometimes her patients need to use it. Our bathroom's over there, second door to the right." She turned toward the other hallway. "Which one of you wants to wash first?"
Nikolai chuckled. "Do we reek that much?"
"I've smelled worse."
"Go ahead, Malik," Nikolai said expansively. "I could use a meal, if you don't mind."
Malik walked to the hallway, noting the space as he moved toward the bathroom; these rooms had to be small. In the bathroom, there was barely enough space to set down his pack. The water in the tiny stall was tepid, and probably recycled. When he had finished bathing, he slapped depilatory cream to his face, wiped off his beard, and changed into clean clothes.
As he left the bathroom, he heard laughter in the common room. Risa and Nikolai were seated on the floor in front of a low table, eating from a tray filled with vegetables and pieces of bread. The Russian seemed to be making himself at home; Malik was surprised at how much that irritated him.
"Not bad," Nikolai said as he munched on some bread.
"Our food used to be pretty dull," Risa said, "but we've learned more ways of storing and preparing it. The community greenhouses grow a lot of beans and peanuts, along with enriched dwarf strains of wheat and rice. We've got beets, cabbage, parsley, onions, tomatoes, and some households keep rabbits and goats. We don't really need the protein from their meat and milk, since we can get enough from some of the other foods, but the animals can eat things we can't, and they do add some variety to our diet. It's also simpler than building vats to manufacture animal protein, the way the Islands do."
"What about your own greenhouse?" Nikolai asked.
"I've been doing pretty well with berries and spices, but I raise some basic foods, too. I trade some of the surplus or exchange it for credit."
"I wouldn't mind seeing your greenhouse." Nikolai got to his feet. "But I'd better wash up while I have the chance."
He left the room; Malik seated himself. Risa pushed the food toward him. "The experiment seems to be going well," he murmured as he helped himself to some bread.
"Experiment?"
"I meant these domes. They are a kind of experiment, since the terraforming of Venus could have gone on without them. The Islands were here, and people could have waited out the centuries for Venus to cool before building surface settlements. In a way, they're here partly for political reasons — a lot of people working for the Project, especially common workers who saw a chance for a different kind of life, became impatient and didn't want to wait."
"Why should they have waited?" Risa pushed back a loose curl of dark hair. "They had the means to build these domes, and people willing to live in them."
"I was only saying —"
"We're the ones who are really committed to this Project. The Islanders — well — it doesn't mean the same thing to them."
"Surely they're equally devoted to this Project."
"In their own way, but most of them are specialists. Sometimes you get the feeling that their scientific work means more to them than the Project as a whole, and I don't know if it's wise for some of them to be as close to the Habbers as they are."
"If you work with someone, it's natural to form friendships."
"I doubt that Habbers really know what friendship is." She poured him a cup of herb tea. "Your record says you were a teacher," she continued. "We need a teacher in our west dome school, and since my friend Noella Sanger's moved out, we have room for you here. She's living with Theron Hyland, the teacher who put in the request for you. I'll introduce you to both of them tomorrow."
"I was a historian," Malik said. "I'm not sure why you need me here. Don't your young people go to the Islands for more specialized training?"
"Yes, but we don't need you for that. You're here to teach the small children. We have screens, of course, and a lot of recorded materials, but teachers can guide and motivate the students. They gain so much more in a group than if they only pursued their lessons alone, and here every child has a chance to attend a school. It's important work, Malik. Earth only gives such an opportunity to the most promising children."
He felt disappointed; he had imagined older students already past their early training. "I don't know if I'm suited for that, Risa. I taught in a university. I —"
"You can read, and you must have studied other things before you specialized. There's not much chance that we'll get someone with your kind of training too often. You should do well enough."
"I've never taught children."
She frowned. "Maybe you think that because you were a Linker, you're entitled to something else. I didn't see that you have many other useful skills. You're lucky to get work that'll win you some respect. What did you expect, anyway?"
"I suppose," he said slowly, "that I must be grateful."
"There isn't much else you can do here — even the Islands don't have much use for historians, as far as I know. And isn't history just a bunch of stories the Mukhtars would like people to believe?"
He was stung. "Not in my case. The Mukhtars didn't much care for some of my writings. That's why I lost my Link — one of the reasons, anyway."
"Well, you can write what you like here. Most won't be interested enough to pay it much mind."
Her bluntness and frigid stare were annoying; he was beginning to see why, attractive as she was physically, no man had warmed enough to her to make a pledge. "That's very reassuring," he snapped. "It's always good to know that no one cares about what one does."
She flushed a little and lowered her eyes. "I shouldn't have put it quite that way. I only meant that you wouldn't be bothered about it." She paused. "My father has some records. He brought them along when we came here — they're mostly records of my mother, messages, what she did and thought. He probably wouldn't mind showing some of them to you. My mother is something of a historical patron saint to people here."
"Iris Angharads," he said. Risa looked up; her eyes widened a little. "I know a little about her. A mind-tour producer on Earth was hoping to use her story in a historical mind-tour about Venus — your father's, too."
"With appropriate distortions, no doubt." She sighed, apparently unimpressed. "Actually, you're here now because my father learned about you from a Habber pilot. I might as well tell you — you'll learn soon enough. My father had a son who abandoned the Project to join the Habbers. He sent a message here and told Chen about you, and my father went to Theron with the news."