Venus of Shadows (55 page)

Read Venus of Shadows Online

Authors: Pamela Sargent

Chimene pressed her lips together. Sigurd spoke to her as though she were a child to placate and dismiss. He thought he could control her; he would learn.

But such musings were unworthy of a Guide. She should be thinking of what was in the interests of her people, not of personal resentments. Sigurd was useful; when he no longer was, and another held his place, maybe the loss of his power would leave him more able to find the right way.

She walked up the path to her door. A few neighbors or some of the pilots from the dormitory usually visited in the evening, but they would be gone by now. She did not expect to find anyone in the common room, but Matthew and Boaz were still up, reclining on mats in the center of the large room, a pot of tea between them.

"You're late again," Boaz said with a smile. "Everyone else, except for Eva, is already asleep."

"I had to speak to some parents. They wanted to know about some additional tutoring for their children."

"I hope one of your colleagues can handle it," Matthew said. "You work hard enough as it is."

"No more than anyone else."

Eva entered the room with a small tray of fruit; Chimene seated herself on a mat. Boaz handed her a cup of tea; she sipped, savoring the taste of the mint and herbs.

"I've been thinking," Boaz murmured. "Maybe you should consider giving up your work as a teacher. It wouldn't be that difficult to find another to take your place."

"I couldn't do that," she said. "We all have to work. What kind of an example would that set?"

"I'm considering what's best for Ishtar. You have to get up early if you want to see any of your pupils before school, spend time on your own screen lessons, and see the children or their parents afterward, in addition to assessing their progress and recommending what they might pursue later. It might not be such a strain if you didn't have your duties to Ishtar as well."

"I'm a teacher," Chimene said firmly. "I was told I had the aptitude, and I chose the work — I made a commitment."

"You also made a commitment to your brothers and sisters. If you weren't teaching, you'd have more time to travel to the other settlements and the Islands, to speak directly to our members there — they value such contacts with the Guide. You could devote more attention to Council matters when we Councilors need your advice. You could make more efforts to win others to our fellowship."

"I can't give up my work."

Boaz sighed. "You wouldn't be giving up work — you'd be doing other work. You can always join one of the community greenhouse teams — that would satisfy your obligation to the Project and leave you with more time than you have now. With what the rest of us earn and the contributions we're given, our household would have enough credit."

Chimene shook her head. "I can't see how it'd benefit Ishtar if people see the Guide ignoring some of her obligations."

Boaz touched her arm lightly. "I was only thinking of you, Chimene."

He was thinking of her; he said that so often, usually when he was telling her what to do. He advised her on what to say to Sigurd, which people should be seen more often, and whom to avoid. As one of Oberg's elected Councilors, Boaz often settled some problems without consulting with her; that too was allegedly in her interest, so that she wouldn't be unduly distracted. She had grown to rely on both him and Matthew, who almost always agreed with Boaz; they had eased her insecurity during her first years as the Guide.

At times, however, their solicitude seemed a barrier separating her from others. She was beginning to wonder if she depended too much on their advice.

"It's your decision," Matthew said. "Anyway, that isn't the only thing we wanted to discuss with you now. We've been biding our time long enough about those Habbers on the Islands and in Turing. Some are saying that by continuing to ignore what they did in the past, we make it more likely that they'll tighten their grip on our world. We should rid ourselves of their presence once and for all."

"I spoke to Administrator Alim ibn-Sharifjust a little while ago." Boaz's dark eyes narrowed as he spoke. "He says more of the Islanders are getting impatient. They know things can't remain this way, with the Project stalled and Sigurd hoping that we'll eventually forget what an affront the presence of Habbers here is. Habbers are cowards — they can work only through guile and deceit, not with force. If they see they're no longer welcome anywhere here, they'll retreat quickly enough."

Eva set down her cup. "I'm not sure we should be so anxious to expel the Habbers soon."

"Their agreement with the Project states that they can remain here only as long as they're welcome," Matthew replied. "If we held any kind of a referendum now, a majority would vote to be rid of them, and even Sigurd would have to abide by that or else show himself to be one of their minions openly. Do you think the Habbers would stand against such a decision? They haven't shown themselves to be all that brave in the past, and if they tried to defy us, a few threats against those here would change their minds. Their unnaturally long lives have made them weak — they cling to all those years stretching ahead of them."

"I wasn't thinking of what the Habbers might do," the blond woman said. "Having them in Turing serves our purpose for the moment."

That was true, Chimene thought. Boaz and Matthew had seen the possibilities the domed settlement in the Freyja Mountains presented. Even with the delays that had slowed work there, the mining and refining center was providing the other settlements with some needed materials, and another facility was producing ceramics that would be an improvement over the ones now used in various installations.

Yet this was less important than what Turing had come to represent. Some settlers still welcomed the prospect of working with the Habbers. Turing was a place without patrols, a settlement that attracted those who found Ishtar's growing power burdensome, and several people had applied to be sent there.

Chimene had not been pleased by this state of affairs, but Boaz had convinced her of the wisdom of leaving Turing alone. "Let the discontented gather there," he had argued. "Let them imagine that Habbers can be their friends. It'll lull the Habbers, and also show us exactly who the most recalcitrant people are — people who would otherwise be here to spread their discontent. Let them think they're safe there, and when the time comes to do something about them, we'll know exactly where many of our potential enemies are."

She had conceded the point, although she had not cared for the reference to other settlers as their enemies. Habbers were enemies; other Cytherians were simply people who had not yet seen the truth. Allowing some of them more contact with Habbers was only a temporary measure; when they lost their Habber friends and saw how easily they would be abandoned, they might grow more receptive to Ishtar.

She frowned. It had been easier to consider the matter objectively before Dyami had gone to work in Turing. That her own brother could wound her in that way — 

Chimene steadied herself. Dyami had never warmed to her even after the rest of Risa's household had made their peace with Chimene. Risa remained somewhat distant, but at least she was polite; she had even tolerated Sef's becoming a member of Ishtar. Chimene sensed that Sef was not terribly devout, but he and Nikolai had taken that first step, and the others in the household were always friendly to her when she visited them. Only Dyami insisted on carrying an unspoken and unspecified grudge against her.

"You know," Boaz was saying to Eva, "that we never intended to leave Turing alone indefinitely."

"If and when the Habbers leave," Eva said, "Earth may see it as a chance to act, and we'll need Earth's help then to push forward. The Mukhtars are not going to aid us purely out of the goodness of their hearts, especially now that a Guardian Commander has a place among them. They'll demand more control over us. Our people won't be very happy about that."

"Eva's right," Chimene said, "much as I hate to admit it. I want the Habbers expelled, but not at the price of bowing to Earth later."

Boaz lifted his head. "It's possible to deal with Earth. The Habbers may seem indifferent to us now, but you know what they think of Ishtar. We mustn't allow them to subvert misguided Cytherians and try to win them over to their inhuman ways. Kichi knew that we might be forced to deal with Earth eventually, repugnant as that is. The Spirit isn't well served by pointless acts of defiance. Coming to some sort of arrangement soon may help us keep what we're trying to build, and it would be only a temporary agreement until we have the power to stand alone. We could make a few concessions to Earth as long as the Mukhtars don't interfere with our fellowship. We have enough influence now to convince most Cytherians that Earth is no real threat to our eventual goals."

Boaz had never stated this view so baldly before. Chimene looked into Matthew's gray-green eyes; the blond man seemed untroubled by Boaz's words. She wanted to protest; such an agreement would make their talk of free Cytherians a lie.

She knew what Boaz would say to that. "Your faith does you credit." He often told her that. "But to serve the Spirit sometimes requires that you temper your faith with practicality. You can't be wrong if the means you use serve our ends,"

She set her cup on the floor. "We may have other alternatives," she said. "The Council of Mukhtars is still far from being united. Maybe Earth will be so grateful when the Habbers are gone that they won't ask us for anything in exchange for more of their aid, since we will have eliminated their rivals here." She got to her feet. "I must sleep."

She went to her room. Kichi had slept in the large bed, had sat at the desk in the corner, had rested on the cushions while speaking to Chimene about her faith. She suddenly wished, as she so often did, that Kichi were still alive and here to advise her. Kichi had promised Chimene that she would find her own faith, but she hadn't told her how precarious that faith might be. Moments of enlightenment, of sensing the Spirit inside her, came only rarely before slipping away. Chimene often had to struggle to recall how such moments felt. Kichi had died too soon, before Chimene was ready to replace her.

She undressed and got into bed, huddling under the sheet. She had thought that, after she became the Guide, she would escape the need for deviousness and actions that seemed contrary to the right way. That had been a foolish hope. She might soon have to deal with Earth, and some deviousness in working around Sigurd was already required; more secrets would have to be kept.

This was one of the paradoxes of being the Guide or one of those closest to her; while leading as perfect a life as possible, one also had to accept necessary evils in the furtherance of Ishtar's aims. She would have to engage in repugnant actions in order to bring her perfect world into being and yet keep her own faith pure. She would not be able to avoid certain decisions, but she had ways in which to reason about them and come to the proper conclusions. Kichi had tested her mind with paradoxes, mental puzzles, and apparent contradictions often enough to prepare her for that.

Her door hissed softly as it opened; she heard the sound of footsteps and then the rustle of clothing. The bed shifted slightly under her; she felt a hand on her head.

She caught a glimpse of Boaz's brown-skinned face before she closed her eyes once more. He stroked her hair, apparently sensing that she wanted only to be held. She had never admitted it to him, but Boaz had to know how difficult it had become for her to take pleasure with a lover alone; he had tried often enough to please her. Only during the rite could she give herself freely.

"You do love me, don't you?" he said.

"You know that I do."

"As you love all your brothers in Ishtar. I still hope that you love me just a little more than that, even though I know you must love us all." He was silent for a while. "I can still long for your child."

He had been pressing her about this for some time now. "Is that why you want me to give up teaching, so that I'd have more time for a child?"

"Of course not. There's the nursery and the rest of the household to help out. The child wouldn't be ours alone, but Ishtar's. We have no children in this house, and we've been content with that, but I can't help thinking that a child might draw us all closer to the Spirit. She could know a nearly perfect love — she could grow up to be an example of what we hope all Cytherians will become."

She nestled closer to him. "Why would she have to be ours? Any child would do. Our love should extend to all children. Whether a particular child is mine or not shouldn't matter."

"I know what you're thinking. You're afraid that if you had your own child, that might inhibit your love for others, that you'd fall into error by feeling that your child mattered above all others. It doesn't have to be that way. You could see her as a gift to Ishtar, one who will give more love to others, who will never know the barriers that hold people back from the truth."

The temptation was too great; she did fear that too much of her love might go to her child. Perhaps if her faith were as strong as Kichi's had been, she might have risked it.

"You want a child," he went on, "but you're afraid to have one. I want one with you because I know that then there would always be that bond between us, apart from the love you'd give to any of your brothers. Shouldn't we confront this temptation and overcome it instead of shying away from it? There's virtue in struggling with one's flaws and conquering them. There's nothing praiseworthy in trying to pretend they don't exist and refusing to confront them. Do you want to go through life always wondering if the love you have for others is no more than a substitute for the love you couldn't give a child? Kichi knew that love for all often begins with love for one."

Boaz could be so persuasive. She might have more learning than he did, but she often felt helpless during their gentle, restrained arguments. Both he and Matthew, in spite of being only two mechanics who had found their way here from Earth's camps, often seemed more learned than most such people. But then, they had always been quick, and they had also had Kichi to instruct them.

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