Authors: Pamela Sargent
Risa said, "I would have traded Chimene's life for Eleta's."
"You mustn't say such things."
She began to weep. Nikolai held her; his body trembled, and then she heard his choked sobs.
Twenty-Three
A third memorial pillar had been erected only a week before in Oberg's main dome; the images of some of those who had died of the fever filled the spaces on the other two. Oberg had lost nearly a hundred and fifty people, half of them residents of the main dome. The other three domes had been more fortunate, Risa thought; everyone said so, although most were careful not to speak of their luck in her presence.
She stood with her household, waiting for Yakov Serba to speak. They had waited until Patrick was home from his shift on the southern Bat to hold this dedication; Yakov had offered to say a few words. It was one of the duties of the Council members to speak at such ceremonies; at least one Councilor had been present at all the others.
This would be the last ceremony honoring those dead of the fever. Risa glanced at her household. Paul and Grazie stood together, hands clasped; Bettina leaned against Patrick. The physician seemed weak and fragile, as if, without her grandson's supporting arm, she might crumple to the ground, Nikolai's head was lowered, and his hand rested on his daughter's shoulder; Irina's eyes filled with tears as she looked up at her father. Sef's jaw was tight with tension. Risa had not seen her bondmate cry since the death of their daughter. Set did not give in to tears; he had explained to her once that his people on Earth were like that, shunning open displays of such emotions. The strain of holding himself in was beginning to show on his face. Dyami was also restraining himself. His body was still, his brown eyes blank, but his lips were raw where his teeth had bitten into them.
Chimene stood a little apart from the others. She was wearing a black tunic and pants, with her sash around her waist; her head was bowed. Perhaps she was praying to her Spirit. Risa's anger flared and then faded. Chimene's household, including a man named Boaz Huerta who had recently joined them had sent individual messages of condolence; Risa had feared that they might also come to this ceremony. She could not have endured that in silence, seeing her daughter here with some of those who had corrupted her and turned her into the Guide's successor. At least Chimene had the grace to arrive alone.
No one else had come. Noella had offered to attend, but Risa had dissuaded her old friend and had made it clear to others that she did not expect them to be here. She had not even listened to most of the messages of condolence; she could not have borne hearing such sentiments in person.
She searched the pillar. Emilia Knef's placid, smiling face had been set next to Eleta's broad one; carvings done by Chen had been used as models for the images cast in metal. Chen was commemorated with the standard holo portrait; during all his years in Oberg, he had never made a carving of himself. His face was serene; his eyes stared past her in the direction of Iris's monument.
Risa's eyes stung; she blinked back her tears. Chen would have told her that he'd had a long life, spanning over a century; he would not have wanted her to wallow in grief over his death. Perhaps it was a mercy that he had never known of his granddaughter's passing.
Yakov stroked his short beard; he was about to speak. He suddenly lifted his hand; Risa turned her head.
Malik was hastening toward them, a small duffel slung over his shoulder. He came to Risa and embraced her; she pressed her face against his chest. "I didn't think —"
"I had to come," he replied. "I had to be here — a message didn't seem enough. I'm sorry, Risa." He released her and gripped Sef by the elbows, then stepped back. Chimene was watching her father; Malik looked away from her.
"We have come here to commemorate three Cytherians," Yakov began. "Liang Chen was one of the earliest members of our community. He never claimed to be more than a humble worker, but many would say that without the courage he showed in the past, when the Project itself was threatened, we might not be standing on this world. Chen helped us build what we have now, and he added his own touch of beauty to it."
Yakov paused. "We also come here to remember Emilia Knef. Emilia was also one who would claim little for herself, but her steadiness and practicality were always a source of support for those closest to her. People like Emilia are the bedrock of our world." He lowered his voice. "And we mourn Eleta Liang-Talis, one who was born here and who knew no other place. Her death may be the hardest to bear, for her life was brief and she was robbed of the chance to make her own contribution."
Risa's throat tightened. She thought of how she had nursed Eleta, of the time the little girl had taken her first small steps, of the way the nursery workers had praised her for her good behavior under their care, and of how quickly Eleta had taken to her first screen lessons and games. She closed her eyes for a moment, nearly overcome with grief; part of her own future had died with her child.
"We mourn those who are gone," Yakov was saying, "but our community survives. We must remember the dead while we go on with the work of the living. May their spirits watch over the world they helped to build."
Risa bowed her head. When she looked up once more, Yakov had gone to Bettina; he took her hands as he murmured to her. Chimene's lips moved; she seemed to be whispering a prayer.
"I'm sorry," Malik murmured to Risa. "It's all I can say, but it doesn't seem enough."
Chen had been so happy to have a scholar in their house; he had taken even more pride in seeing Malik become her bondmate. It all seemed so long ago, part of a brief interval during which Chen had believed that his daughter's future happiness was ensured. She swallowed hard.
The other members of the household were clustered around Yakov; Patrick was closer to the glade, speaking to Chimene. "You're welcome to stay with us until you go back," Risa managed to say, "unless Chimene —"
"I'll stay with you," Malik said quickly. "It'll just be for a couple of days. There's no reason for me to stay with Chimene." His voice sounded cold. "Risa, I have to say this. Maybe you could come to one of the Islands to live, you and Sef and your son. I could speak to Sigurd, see if there might be a place for you. It might be easier than staying here, with your memories."
"This is my home. I can't leave it, not now, and I don't want any special privilege. Chen wouldn't have wanted that — he'd expect me to stay and go on, the way he did when he lost my mother."
"I only thought — I worry about what might happen here now." He was gazing at Chimene. "Even on the Islands, more people are giving credence to those baseless rumors about the Habbers, and Ishtar's benefiting, saying they were right all along."
"It'll pass."
"I'm not so sure. Sigurd thinks he can stop the talk by reasoning with people and demanding stricter procedures with new arrivals at Anwara and the Platform so something like this can't happen again. He believes people will be reassured if he points out that we could have prevented this. I don't know if he's being naïve or if he simply sees no alternative."
Yakov approached them. Malik touched her arm. "I should speak to Kolya." He went to the others as the Councilor took her hands.
"My sympathies, Risa," Yakov said. "Your household suffered more than most. I'm sorry I couldn't be more eloquent."
Her sorrow welled up, mingled with rage at the useless words and pointless deaths. There had been no prayers for her loved ones; Chen had put no faith in prayers. Maybe it would have been easier for her if she had found a faith of some kind.
"You spoke very well," she managed to respond.
"I also wanted to talk to you." His voice was lower; she had to strain a little to hear him, even standing so close. "I know this isn't the place, but there isn't much time. Another election comes up in a month, and Ishtar's certain to get at least one of its members on each of the dome Councils. It's not likely I'd win now. Ishtar knows I barely tolerate them, while some of those who dislike the cult think I've shown weakness in dealing with them. Maybe I have, but I didn't think they'd get a chance to get stronger. You could run in my place."
"It wouldn't work."
"Do you think they'll still hold a past mistake against you? Many have already forgotten about that. Some probably think you did the right thing every time they pass that detention center and see members of Ishtar trying to save and forgive those wretches. You'd have support, and even Ishtar might have problems working against you, since you are the mother of their new Guide."
"I suppose you've done some sort of projection," she said, "to see what my chances are."
"Projections of a vote can be wrong."
'They haven't been yet."
"Times are more uncertain now," he said. "There are new factors that can't be as easily assessed. What do you want, a guarantee? We'll have to stand against them sooner or later."
"I know that, Yakov," she said softly, "but engaging in futile efforts won't help." That was what it came to, she supposed; she could not let Chimene see that Risa might be her enemy if she was to work against her. She might have to deceive her own daughter in order to fight Ishtar's influence. She felt as though the cult had already poisoned her. "We'll find other ways."
He bowed a little, then walked away. Risa took a breath, and began to move toward her daughter. "— with the Spirit now," Chimene was saying to Patrick. "I have to believe that. Even death is no barrier to Ishtar."
"They weren't believers," Patrick answered.
"All it takes is one leap to a faith that might have come at any time. Perhaps it came to them in the end. The Spirit doesn't seek to punish but to unite, and feels only sorrow when a soul is lost to Her."
Chimene would try to infect them even here. Risa gritted her teeth, then extended a hand to her daughter. "I hope you can be with us tonight," Risa murmured. "Some of our neighbors will be coming by to pay their respects."
"Then I shall," Chimene said. "I can attend a meeting near your house and come there afterward. Risa, I —" A troubled look came into her dark eyes, then passed. "I love you. You know that, don't you? I wanted so much to have you see that, but it pains me so deeply that this is what brings us together."
"You're my child." A bitter taste filled her mouth. "Nothing can change that."
Chimene's eyes glowed; a blush rose to her cheeks as Sef led Dyami over to them. Her face was serene now; for a moment, Risa felt as if she were with Kichi Timsen again. She looked away as the Guide clasped Sef's outstretched hands.
THE CAULDRON
Twenty-Four
Two women on patrol were standing next to the main road as Chimene left the tunnel, their forms shadowed in the dim light. One of them moved toward her, then hesitated.
"Excuse me," the woman said. "I didn't realize it was you."
"Don't apologize," Chimene responded. "You have every right to wonder why I'm out so late. I was visiting with the parents of a few of my students, and I'm afraid I lost track of the time. I didn't run into anyone on patrol or I would have told them I was heading home, so you could have been informed. You must treat me the same way you would anyone else."
"Of course." The woman glanced toward the trees just beyond the road. "Maybe we can walk you home."
"That won't be necessary. Good evening."
Chimene crossed the road. As she hurried through the small forest, she heard twigs cracking behind her; apparently the two women had decided to follow her anyway. They were thinking of her safety, she supposed; a woman had been attacked not far from here a few weeks earlier. At the offender's hearing, the man claimed that his victim had enticed him, a statement that had particularly disgusted Chimene. She hated such crimes, infrequent as they were, since they only debased the act through which people showed their love for one another and the Spirit. The man would be in detention for many years now, and he would have to wear an identity bracelet with a tracer. Already he had paid a lot of credit in reparations, but his punishment seemed too mild.
Yet even someone that base could be led to the truth. She had encouraged others to speak to the man about Ishtar, in the hope that he might find enlightenment. When he saw the truth, he would be overcome with remorse for what he had done; that might be a fitting punishment, one he would endure for the rest of his life. She dismissed the man from her thoughts; such offenders troubled the settlements only rarely.
She came to the creek and followed it toward her own house. A neighbor leaving a greenhouse waved at her as she passed. In the eleven years Chimene had been the Guide, Ishtar had achieved more than even Kichi had envisioned. Nearly half of the people in Oberg had joined the fellowship, and the same was the case in the other domed settlements. They had even won a fair number of adherents among the Islanders, although she suspected that some of them were less than fervent in their faith and only thought it was to their advantage to join. That did not matter; they might come to the truth in time. Those not part of the fellowship seemed content to live with Councils dominated by Ishtar's members, and why shouldn't they? The patrol protected them, and many of them sympathized with Ishtar's dreams of peace and freedom.
The Cytherians had also not forgotten the unhappy events of 615 and the fever that had taken so many lives. Chimene's first important act as the Guide had been to pressure Administrator Sigurd into removing all Habbers from the Maxwell Mountains, an action he had agreed to out of concern for the safety of the Habbers there. The only Habbers remaining on the surface were in Turing, the two-domed settlement in the Freyja range.
Sigurd probably saw this as a temporary concession, but it was only a first step. She was determined to see Habbers expelled from Turing and the Islands and to rid her world of their insidious influence. They thought they could rule here; they would learn better. Then it might be necessary to deal with Sigurd, who believed Chimene could be appeased with a few kind words and favors. Perhaps he was still so besotted with his Habber woman that he could not see how Tesia's people were using him while pretending to be his friends.