Authors: Pamela Sargent
"Maybe that wasn't your way. You probably liked to look at yourself through your partner's eyes. You're good-looking enough to have preferred that."
Malik flushed with anger. Nikolai had guessed correctly; Malik had often chided himself for his vanity. "Linkers aren't as interested in such pursuits as you think," he responded. "Those who have been Linked for many years become more indifferent to such things." Was Nikolai mocking him? Was he clumsily expressing an interest in Malik himself? That was unlikely; any potential settlers whose inclinations ran to their own sex would have to be discreet here. Venus was peopled by many who came from more backward areas of Earth and bonds between couples were greatly honored there. The new world was less tolerant of certain practices than many Nomarchies.
Malik lifted his head and was surprised to see a gentle, sympathetic look in the other man's blue eyes; he could almost imagine that Nikolai was feeling sorry for him. The young man glanced toward the tower, where a small woman in a blue coat was taking a stroll. "One of the Habber pilots," Nikolai said. "Whatever they are, at least they leave us alone. That one must be getting impatient by now." He stood up. "If you want some company later, come over after supper."
Malik nodded. The brown-haired man strode away. Malik looked toward the Habber woman again; she was walking toward the tower. He suddenly envied the pilot's Link; for a moment, he could understand why the Habbers held themselves aloof from Earth and its troubled souls.
* * *
Malik sat inside Nikolai's yurt, listening to the men as they gossiped and occasionally offering a brief remark. A few of the men seemed to be studying him; perhaps they had expected more talk of his fine friends in Amman. Malik had already learned that comments about his old life were best accompanied by gentle mockery and a tone of indifference; he did not want his companions to think he believed himself better than they.
He got up and said his farewells as the others began to gamble with sticks and dice; Nikolai followed him outside. "I'll walk back with you, Malik," the young man said. "There's something I want to ask. We talked it over, all of us. Ahmad's been seeing a woman in another yurt, and they're hoping to make a pledge when they both reach Venus. She told Ahmad there's enough space for him to move in with her, and the others don't mind if you take his place with us."
"I'll think about it," Malik replied, knowing he should be grateful for the offer.
"I guess we're not the kind of company you're used to."
"It isn't that," Malik said quickly. "Actually, I'm surprised you want me to live with you."
Nikolai shrugged. "A couple of them wondered a little, but I convinced them. Frankly, it'd make things a little easier for you here. If we take you in, others won't be as suspicious of you, and you can use a few friends."
"I'll decide as soon as I can."
"You can't think about it too long. There're others we could ask, men who wouldn't mind moving in."
They were near Malik's tent. The flap of Yekaterina's tent was open; she was sitting there, barely visible in the dusky light. Alexei was nowhere in sight; he had been spending more evenings and nights in the camp lately.
"Don't think I haven't welcomed your kind offer," Malik said, "but maybe you should ask Alexei to live with you. His sister says he can be moody. It might do him good to live with a group."
Nikolai shook his head as he drew Malik aside. "Listen, I wouldn't mind having him on my side in any fight, but you can't tell what he'll do a lot of times. I've seen him with a few who don't mind stealing when they can get away with it, and he looks willing to go along with them. Either he'll quiet down and learn to be patient or he'll make trouble, and I don't want him close to me until I know which. He's probably just waiting to strike out at somebody — I see it in his eyes." Nikolai paused. "Let me know tomorrow what you want to do."
The evening call to prayer was sounding as Nikolai walked away. Malik thought of beginning his ablutions, then decided to ignore the call this time. He was about to enter his tent when Yekaterina called out to him. "Malik?"
"Yes?"
"Alexei won't be back tonight. I thought you might like to talk."
She sounded lonely. He sat down in front of her tent, "He doesn't like to see me talking to you."
"It isn't for him to decide, is it?" She smoothed down her coat collar. "He may have this tent to himself soon, unless he finds a place somewhere else. A few women have asked me to move in with them. They think they haven't gotten passage yet because they don't speak Anglaic all that well, so they'd like to practice it with someone who's more fluent. I'd also be safer with a group."
"Kolya offered me a place in his yurt just now."
"Then you should accept it."
"I know," Malik said. "He seemed a little insulted that I didn't take him up on the offer immediately. I couldn't explain. I've had my own quarters for years — I don't know how well I'd get along."
She laughed softly. "Hadn't you better find out before you get to Venus?"
"I suppose so. Where's Alexei been spending his evenings lately?"
"He's seeing a woman named Anya," she replied. "When he talks to her, he's full of words about how much he cares, and when he talks to me about her, he calls her a whore."
Malik raised his brows, "That's hardly gracious of him."
"It's how most of the people in my village think. They see any woman who lies with a man as a fool if she's not trying to bring him around to becoming her bondmate later. But how can Anya hope for that now? It's useless to make a pledge here, when we don't know how long we'll be waiting or where on Venus we'll end up. I told Alexei there was nothing wrong with Anya wanting companionship while she waits and that he should think more kindly of someone who shows him love, but he won't listen. He thought I was foolish for taking Yuri as a lover and not accepting his offer of a pledge."
There was little he could say; some of his own people held beliefs as unreasonable. Even in the easygoing atmosphere of Amman, he had always avoided inexperienced women, in case any of them came from an old-fashioned family that might view the young woman's actions as a stain on the family's honor.
"That's why Alexei doesn't like to see me with you," Yekaterina continued. "He thinks you would only amuse yourself with me and would never seek a bond with someone so far beneath you."
"You're not beneath me now," he said. "I'm just another inmate of this camp. I don't understand why Alexei's so worried about me. I haven't given him any reason to think —"
"You haven't, it's true. But he knows how I feel. He thinks I wouldn't turn you away, and he's right."
Malik lowered his eyes. Her admission came as no surprise; he had sensed it from the beginning.
"I wouldn't expect anything more of you," she said. "We don't know when we'll leave this camp, or even if we'll leave it together, but we could forget our worries for a while."
He wanted to hold her, but restrained himself.
"What is it?" she whispered as she leaned closer to him. "Are you afraid of Alexei? He'll only make trouble for himself if he does anything to you, especially now that Kolya's looking out for you. He'll say his harsh words to me, not to you."
It seemed cowardly to admit that he was wary of her brother, but Alexei wasn't his only concern. He felt trapped, imprisoned by what he had always been, and realized now that he had dimly hoped he might escape part of his nature in the new life into which he had been forced.
"It's my choice, isn't it?" she said. "Alexei has to learn that eventually." She drew back suddenly. "But maybe it isn't my brother." Her voice was pained. "Maybe I was wrong to think you wanted —"
"No, Katya." He reached for her hand almost automatically. "You aren't wrong about that." I'll only hurt her if I turn away now, he told himself; it was easier to give in. Anticipation of a new love was already arousing him, as it always did.
His lips brushed against hers lightly; her fair hair smelled of soap. He stood up, helped her to her feet, and led her inside his tent.
* * *
Malik's first day in Nikolai's yurt was much like the days that followed. He had been given a space by the wall near the door; one of the men helped him hang a shabby blanket between two poles to mark off the space. His sleep the night before had been disturbed by the sounds of men leaving the yurt. The Guardians had forbidden them to relieve themselves anywhere except in the camp's toilets, and their own fears of spreading illness made them content to obey that order.
His day began with his morning prayer, said outside the yurt, after which he lined up with the others to wait in a line for their morning meal. This time they ate at one of the long tables instead of taking the food back to the yurt. Breakfast, as always, was a bowl of lumpy cereal served with a slice of melon and milk-laced tea, while their evening meal was usually fish with wilted vegetables or a piece of textured soy protein with a potato. Malik had learned not to ask too many questions about the food, which was often so tasteless that it was impossible to tell what it was.
The men lingered over their meal as long as possible before going to the lavatories; a few took showers while the others groomed themselves by the sinks. By then, a line had already formed by the camp's laundries, where people could clean and mend their clothes. Malik had brought only three changes of clothing with him; the Guardians would issue new clothing on request, but only if one's old garments were practically in rags.
After noonday prayers, Malik returned to the yurt to find that the others were planning to exercise outside. He retreated to his space, pulled his blanket shut, and took out his pocket reading screen.
The blanket was abruptly pulled open; Nikolai and a Chinese man named Howin peered inside. "What do you have there?" the Russian asked.
Malik tensed a little. Only Yekaterina knew about his screen, but he could hardly keep it a secret now. "It's just a reading screen," he replied. "I brought a small library on microdot. I enjoy reading in the afternoon." He gazed at the two apprehensively; they would probably spread the news about his screen. He tried to reassure himself; his possessions would be safer in this yurt than in his tent. Few in the camp would risk angering Nikolai and his friends, who had no compunctions about confronting any suspected thieves when the Guardians weren't around.
But Nikolai and Howin seemed amused and indifferent. "Reading," Howin muttered under his breath before letting the blanket fall. "Be better for him to strengthen himself instead of ruining his eyes."
"You're forgetting," Nikolai answered. "Malik's a scholar. They must get used to reading, or they couldn't keep doing it."
"I don't know why they bother," another man said in the distance. "Screens and mind-tours can tell you all anybody needs to know."
Malik read for most of the afternoon, having no desire to join the others in their athletic pursuits and strolls around the camp. In the evening, he went with them to the dining hall; they collected their food and carried it back to the yurt. After eating, they threw dice to determine who would carry the trays and bowls back to the hall; Malik lost.
Yekaterina approached him as he left the hall. A few Guardians passed, beginning their nightly patrol; they would wander the paths for a bit and then retreat beyond the posts. He took Yekaterina's arm. "I moved in with those women I told you about," she said. "It's crowded, but I'll get along."
He was disappointed; he had been expecting to join her in her tent for part of the night. "That's good," he said. "But I was hoping for your company tonight, and now —"
"I've seen Kolya's yurt," she said. "They keep it clean enough, and they've marked off their spaces with curtains and blankets, haven't they? It's not as if they'll see anything, and we can always wait until they're asleep."
He could not argue with such practicality. He led her to his new residence, where the others were already pulling their blankets shut in preparation for sleep. Two of the men also had female visitors; they grinned at Malik before he closed his own blanket.
Yekaterina seemed content to look through part of his library as he lay at her side; he had almost forgotten that she knew how to read. From time to time, she held out the screen and whispered a question about an unfamiliar word or phrase. He waited until he could hear the sounds of even breathing and soft snores, then drew her to him.
She responded to him readily, as she had before. The simplest touches and most straightforward thrustings seemed to satisfy her, and he felt no need for more, perhaps because she was still new to him. The darkness hid her firm body, and his hands lingered around her small waist before caressing her rounded hips.
In spite of her words about wanting only a temporary bed-partner, he was sure she could grow to love him. She had shown some courage in coming here, in her willingness to reach out for more than her old life had offered. She was a steady, caring woman who would make someone a good partner on the new world. For a moment, he could imagine himself asking her for a bond and promising a pledge when they were both safely on Venus; with her, he might know some peace. His previous loves had never lasted; perhaps this was as much as he would ever find.
He held her afterward as he let his mind drift into a reverie, and when he came to himself, she was gone. Could he be so certain she would eventually welcome a bond with him? During his old life, he had never felt such doubts, but he had been a man from a prominent family and had held a respected position; all that had been stripped from him now. How would Katya view him when the novelty of his lovemaking and physical beauty wore off? Perhaps she would see him only as a strange, unfortunate creature, made weaker by the privileges he had lost and unsuited for what lay ahead. However infatuated she was, she might be too sensible to join her life to such a man.
He should never have come here. He imagined a world filled with other sturdy people who might view him with pity or contempt, of women who might treat him only as a passing amusement. He had little else to offer them. His past life now seemed buttressed with shields that had kept him from facing what he was.