Venus of Shadows (12 page)

"Malik!"

He raised his head, recognizing Yekaterina's voice. She was farther up the line, waiting with a group of women; Alexei was nowhere in sight. He waved tentatively; she left the women and made her way back to him.

"I'll wait with you," she said. Nikolai, standing just behind Malik, averted his eyes from the pair.

"You'll just be waiting a while longer," he responded.

"I won't be chosen so soon, I think. This will give me more time to pretend I might be." She lowered her dark eyes. "I have been sorry for what I said to you," she whispered.

"I've also regretted my words."

She touched his arm lightly. The day was already growing warm. Behind him, Bogdan was once more laboriously assessing his friends' chances; others were already returning from the tower. Malik glanced at the people as they passed; their faces were grim, their eyes hard and resentful.

Malik thought of the Habber who had refused to help him. He knew that the man could do little for him, but his hopes had risen when he realized who Benzi Liangharad was. He had been foolish; even the bit of compassion he had glimpsed in Benzi's eyes was probably feigned. Malik was nothing to the Habber, useless in whatever game Benzi's people were playing with Earth, only someone to be ignored and dismissed; Benzi had lectured to him in the end as though Malik were a child instead of a man of thirty.

The pilot, of course, could easily view him that way. His boyish appearance was deceptive; Benzi had to be somewhat older than he looked. His life among Habbers enabled him to observe life from afar, as a series of events that might affect him only in passing; he could remain indifferent to the individual lives he momentarily touched. Malik had once seen his own life in that way.

The line was moving more quickly now. More people filed past, their heads lowered as they strode back to the camp. A woman left the tower and ran to the arms of a man waiting for her; they remained locked in their embrace until one of the Guardians stationed outside shouted at the pair. The woman freed herself and began to walk toward the cradle; the man covered his eyes for a moment. Yekaterina's friends walked by, their eyes fixed on the ground.

When Yekaterina's turn finally came, the people near Malik had grown silent. The Guardians paced, hands on their wands. The door opened; Yekaterina came outside, shook her head as she glanced at Malik, then shrugged.

He entered the tower. The officer in charge was behind the small table; two Guardians stood behind him. The two Habbers were nowhere in sight.

"Malik Haddad," Malik said.

The officer stared at his small screen, then raised his head. "You're on the list." Malik tensed in surprise. "Give him his med-scan and send him on his way."

Another Guardian approached Malik with a scanner; apparently he would not have to disrobe this time. Had someone interceded for him with the Project Council? Somehow, he doubted that, having no practical skills that would be of immediate use to the settlers. His name might have been picked at random, or perhaps someone on the Council had felt a bit of pity for a former Linker. He was not likely ever to know the true reason.

"Go to the cradle," the officer was saying. "The floater will take you to the port in Tashkent." Malik did not move. "Don't you hear me? Get going."

Malik stumbled outside; his head was swimming. Yekaterina was waiting; she hurried toward him as Nikolai went inside. "What is it?" she asked. "You look so pale."

He said, "I'm on the list."

She drew in her breath sharply. "I'm happy for you, Malik. It'll be better for you away from this place, but I'll miss you."

"When you get to Venus —"

She shook her head. "Make a life for yourself — find a home. You don't know when I'll be on the list."

She was right. Better to allow her to find someone who could commit himself wholeheartedly to her instead of making promises he was not likely to keep. "I wish I had something to give you," he said.

"You must keep what you have — you may need it there."

He had one small gift. He shifted his coat to his left arm, then fumbled at the pin on his collar. "Take this, Katya." He held out the tiny gold pin of a scroll with Arabic lettering, the symbol marking him as a historian. "It's my specialist's pin. I won't need it among the settlers. They say that the dome-dwellers and even many of the Islanders don't bother with signs of rank." He put it into her hand and closed her fingers around it.

"On your way, man," a Guardian shouted. Yekaterina touched his face lightly, then hurried away. Malik had gone only a few steps before he felt a hand on his arm.

"I'm on the list, too," Nikolai said.

"Maybe we should say farewell to the others."

The Russian shook his head. "They wouldn't want that. No sense in rubbing it in. I can't believe it — I got so used to the bad news."

They had not moved far from the tower before Howin joined them, followed by Bogdan. The men congratulated one another in Russian; Howin narrowed his eyes as he turned toward Malik. "Your Habber friend must have put in a good word for you," he said. "Maybe you didn't tell us everything he said."

"He had nothing to do with this," Malik replied. "You don't seriously think the Council would listen to a Habber's recommendation. It's luck, that's all."

"Don't question our good fortune, Howin," Nikolai said. "If the Habber helped Malik, then maybe he decided to put in a word for us. There's no use thinking about it now — just be grateful."

*  *  *

Evening had come before the last of the fortunate ones joined those aboard the floater. The mood on the airship had grown more subdued; Malik had taken his turn in the floater's lavatory and was wondering if they would be fed before the journey began. Nikolai slouched in the seat next to his; perhaps he was now brooding about whether the long wait would be worth it.

Two Guardians walked down the aisle and passed out packages of dark bread and cups of tepid tea. The two Habber pilots came inside; the woman raised her arms for a moment.

"We'll board a shuttlecraft in Tashkent," she said. "My companion and I will be the pilots on the shuttle, but a few Guardians will accompany us. When we get to the Wheel, you'll follow us to the bay where our own ship is waiting."

The two Habbers disappeared behind the door up in front with the airship pilot. Malik gazed out the window as the floater slowly lifted from its cradle.

*  *  *

At the port, Malik and his fifty companions were herded aboard the magnetic train that was to take them to the shuttle field. The people they passed in the wide, lighted halls of the port looked away when they saw the uniformed Guardians among the group; even the children who hung around the port trying to sell their services as guides to unwary travelers avoided them.

The shuttlecraft turned out to be a small, ancient vehicle with few comforts, and it lacked a lift to carry them to their seats. Malik and the others were forced to climb up worn ladders through the center before easing themselves into their seats.

Malik lay back and fumbled at the tubes in the armrest as Nikolai climbed in next to him. "Ever been off Earth before?" the Russian asked.

Malik shook his head. "I imagine this is the first time for most of us." He opened a panel in the armrest, took out two tablets, and handed one to Nikolai. "Here's what I was looking for. Better take one, Kolya — you may get sick otherwise." He put the tablet into his mouth and sucked some water from the tube.

"We've got a trip ahead of us," Nikolai muttered as he swallowed his tablet. "I hope I'm not one of those people who can't adapt."

"It's too late to worry about that now." Malik strapped himself into his seat. This ship had no screens through which the passengers could view images of their journey; he only knew that they were on their way when an invisible weight pressed him against his seat and the loud humming of the ship's engines drowned out even the sound of Nikolai's moan.

*  *  *

The shuttle journey was an ordeal of discomfort, relieved only by two periods of restless sleep. From time to time, a Guardian drifted by weighflessly, showed the passengers how to pull themselves along the handholds on the seats, led them to the zero-g toilets, and explained how to use them to those who could not read the instructions.

Most of the travelers seemed weak by the time they docked at the Wheel. They followed the Guardians passively through lighted halls and up elevators until they arrived at another bay, where a small vessel carried them to the waiting Habber ship.

This ship was unlike the smaller, sluglike freighters and sturdy torchships housed in the other docks of the tubular space station's hub. The Habber vessel was a long, silvery cylinder connected to a giant globe that housed its engines; inside, a soft light permeated the ship.

The Guardians had remained behind in the bay. The passengers waited restlessly in a corridor while Benzi Liangharad and his companion greeted the two Habbers already aboard; the Anglaic they spoke among themselves seemed filled with unfamiliar or shortened words.

"That shuttle trip was bad enough," a woman near Malik said. "I don't know how I'll get through this."

"How long do you think it'll take?" Nikolai asked Malik. "I don't know much about this sort of craft."

"I can't take weightlessness again," Howin said.

"If this ship is anything like Earth's spacecraft, you won't have to," Malik responded. "Our torchships use laser-induced pulse fusion." He shifted the pack on his back, which felt heavy even in the one-half g of the Wheel. "What that means is that you'll experience some weightlessness at the beginning of the trip, but as the ship continuously accelerates, you'll feel the illusion of gravity. A torchship keeps accelerating until the midpoint of its trip, and then it begins to decelerate, so —" His voice trailed off; he was hardly an expert on such vessels, and it was possible the Habbers had something more sophisticated.

"They're Habbers," Howin said. "Maybe they like weightlessness."

"Come with me," Benzi said.

The group followed the pilot down the corridor. "How long do you think we'll be on this tub?" Bogdan asked.

"That depends on where Venus is now in relation to us," Malik replied. "It might be a week, it might be three."

A door slid open; Benzi led them into a large room filled with platforms covered by transparent carapaces. "This is where you'll pass the journey," the pilot said when they were all inside. "Pick out a sleeper and stow your pack next to it. A red button on the side of the sleeper will open it, and it closes automatically when you're inside. Remove your clothing if you think you'll be more comfortable that way. You'll be awakened when we reach Anwara."

Nikolai gaped at the Habber. "What is this?"

"You'll be in suspension during the trip. Our own people often avail themselves of the sleepers during a long journey. You won't have to be fed, and you'll avoid the boredom of the trip. Believe me, it's for your comfort."

"Sure," one man said. "You really care how we feel."

"You wouldn't be very comfortable at two g's or more," Benzi said, "since we'll be accelerating to make faster time."

"They want us out of the way," a woman whispered. "They just don't want us roaming around their precious ship."

The same thought had occurred to Malik; the Habbers might not want the Earthfolk examining their ship too closely. "Coffins," Bogdan said suddenly. "They look like coffins. How do we know he'll wake us up at all?"

Benzi frowned. "Don't be ridiculous. Don't you think word would have reached Earth by now if previous settlers hadn't arrived safely?"

Bogdan did not seem reassured. "Coffins," he said again. "You won't get me into one of those things."

"Then you'll have to leave the ship," Benzi said. "I don't imagine the Guardians in the bay will be happy about having to take you back."

Malik walked toward one of the sleepers, set down his pack, and pressed the button; the carapace yawned open. He put his coat on top of the pack and climbed inside as a few other people went to the sleepers. He had thought there might be a chance to speak with Benzi again, or to see if one of the other Habbers might be more sympathetic.

The sleeper closed over him. He caught a glimpse of Nikolai in the sleeper next to his own before a cool mist bathed his face and a darkness as thick as Venus's clouds enveloped his thoughts.

THE MONUMENT

Six

Risa opened her eyes, adjusted the harness holding her in her seat, and gazed absently at the large screen in front of the shuttle's passenger section. The vessel was just beginning its descent to Venus's upper atmosphere. Weight pressed her against her seat as the shuttle's retros fired to slow its speed. The Platform was visible on the screen; circles of light marking its docks shone against the Island port's dark metal surface.

Risa was on her way home to Oberg. She looked away from the screen, still weary after the party a few of her friends had given for her on the northern Bat.

She had finished her last shift on the winged satellite above the north pole of Venus. The northern Bat, and its twin over Venus's south pole, had large wings that extended beyond the Parasol's shadow to provide the satellites with solar power. Below the workers' living quarters, each Bat had a latticework of docks for the scooper ships that traveled to the surface.

The process of terraforming was releasing much of the planet's oxygen. Some of the oxygen would remain locked in rock; some would combine with the hydrogen brought from Saturn to form water. The rest of the excess oxygen, however, had to be removed if the atmosphere was ever to support life. Two installations near each of Venus's poles drew in the atmosphere, separated the oxygen from other elements, and then compressed it. Robots ferried the oxygen containers to the scooper ships, which carried it up to the Bats. Much of the oxygen was dumped into space; the rest was used on the two satellites or was ferried away for other purposes.

This process was automatic, but people were needed on the two winged satellites to maintain the docks and service the ships, and all the workers there lived with the fear that the volatile oxygen might explode. Risa had never experienced such a disaster, but she knew a few older people who had lost friends in an explosion.