Authors: Pamela Sargent
"How long will you be up?" Amina asked.
"You won't disturb me even if I'm asleep, so come back whenever you like. No patrols, remember?"
The two women left. Dyami sat and stared at the bust. Balin would not be at the dining hall now; he usually ate early; or else made a meal of some leftovers before going to bed. He got up and went in search of his friend.
* * *
A Habber at one of the dormitories told him that Balin had gone for a walk by the lake. Dyami headed in that direction, following the creek past the large greenhouse.
A mower was moving over the grassy plain, followed by a weeding machine. Dyami marched rapidly; his heart was beating more quickly against his chest. He passed another bridge where the creek widened a little, climbed a small rise, and looked out over the lake.
The silence was broken only by the low hum of the mower behind him. The lake was black where it met the shore and silver where the dome light shone down on the water. To the east, near the wood that bordered the lake on that side, he saw a man walking and recognized Balin's slender form.
He hurried over the rocky shore, nearly losing his footing a couple of times before he reached the softer ground under the trees. "Balin," he called out.
The man turned, then walked toward him. "Dyami?"
"I just got back a little while ago." Maybe Balin was not particularly anxious to see him; perhaps he wanted to be by himself. "I was told you'd come here."
Balin clasped his hands. "I'm pleased you came back. I was wondering if you would."
"And why wouldn't I?"
"You might have asked for more time off or asked the people here to find a replacement. Others have done so, to make their peace with the people they left."
"That isn't what I want," Dyami said. "I kept wishing to be back here."
Balin seated himself under a tree. "And how was your visit?"
Dyami hesitated, then sat down next to the Habber. "Not what I expected. My parents were having a problem, but I think they're on the way to resolving it. I managed to avoid my sister for the most part. I saw some old friends. I'm sure I must have mentioned my old schoolmate, Teo Lingard, to you. He wanted me to stay and become part of his household."
He could not see Balin's face in the shadows. He thought of how he had shaped the mold for his bust, how he had imagined his hands on Balin's high cheekbones, cupping his face, touching his narrow lips. "And did he tempt you to stay?"
"No, not really. Teo has to hide what he is there. I didn't tell you that about him before. He loves men, but he's found a way to live with that and conceal it while doing as he likes. I knew I couldn't do the same."
"Why would you —"
"Because I'm like Teo." He shuddered and caught his breath. "I've always been that way." It was easier to admit it in the darkness, clothed in shadows. "I think Teo loved me once, but I was too frightened to accept anything more than some sex when my need grew too great. I told myself it was better if I didn't love anyone."
"And you were afraid to tell me this? But my people have never felt the way yours do about such things."
"I didn't want your pity," Dyami said. "I didn't want to lose your friendship when I knew that was all I could have, and I couldn't risk driving you away by wanting more. I love you, Balin — I know that now."
He was about to rise, then felt a hand on his arm. "Don't go, Dyami."
"You needn't worry. I'll never say it again."
"But didn't you ever think that I might feel the same way?" Balin asked. "I've wanted to be closer to you, but I also thought I might sacrifice our friendship if I admitted it. I didn't want to make a mistake. Even Cytherians who show some friendliness to us might reject such advances."
Dyami swallowed. "Your people — you could have changed yourselves so that none of you would be like me. I used to wonder if you had and pitied us because we couldn't. I thought all those stories about how Habbers would practice any vice were all lies."
"Why would we change anything like that — a natural variation in behavior and response? We never felt the need. The longer we live the more aware we become of the range of responses any individual might have. Many of us here have come to prefer the satisfactions of thought and contemplation, but I find I need others as well. When I feel love, should I welcome it only for a woman and not a man?"
Balin's arms were around him. His fear was gone. Dyami lifted his hands and touched the face he had molded as Balin's lips found his.
Twenty-Six
The door closed behind Chimene. She glanced around the empty common room of her house, trying to recall the last time she had been alone. Someone was always with her — a fellow teacher, her students, housemates, members of the patrol whenever she wanted to walk at night, people seeking her advice or simply wanting to be near her. Even when she slept, Boaz or Matthew was always at her side.
She had gone to her mother's house to wish Risa a happy new year before returning to the main dome to put in an appearance at the largest of the celebrations. She had planned to visit the other two domes as well, but a sudden listlessness and urge for solitude had driven her back here. Two volunteers from the patrol had followed her, but she had dismissed them at the door.
Now she was beginning to regret being alone; it allowed disturbing thoughts to enter her mind, doubts about her faith and worries over whether she was doing what was good. Was the Spirit still guiding her? She could no longer tell; lately, the Spirit seemed to speak to her with the voices of Matthew and Boaz. The two men heard Her clearly; she wondered why she could not.
Solitude also brought too many thoughts of Sef. He had continued to come to meetings at her house for a while even after she had stopped inviting him to share the rite there. She had told herself that her love for him was inhibiting her love for others; instead of bringing him closer to the right way, she had dreamed of having him to herself. She had kept away from him, certain that once her struggle with herself was past, his love for her would bring him to seek her out. But he had not come to her, and then he had stopped attending her meetings. Every time she visited his household, Sef spoke with her impersonally and even seemed relieved when she was leaving.
Perhaps he no longer loved her. Maybe others she thought she had won did not love her any more, in spite of all her efforts. She sank onto a cushion and bowed her head.
The door opened; Matthew walked toward her. "I saw you coming back here," he said. "Is anything wrong?"
"Just tired, that's all."
"Too tired to welcome the year of 628?"
She shrugged. "It's Earth's calendar, not ours. It's merely a convention until we devise our own. There's no need to make more of it than it is."
"Ah, but people do enjoy an excuse for a festival." The blond man sat down next to her. "Besides, this won't be just another new year — it marks the beginning of a new phase in our history, when some of our efforts will come to fruition."
It was so. They would be rid of the Habbers at last. All of the settlement Councils were in agreement — not surprisingly, since members of the fellowship held those positions. The long-awaited referendum would be called, and there was no doubt that a large majority of the settlers would vote to expel the Habbers from the settlement in the Freyja Mountains. The pilots who traveled to Turing had been useful in spreading rumors about the growing friendliness and closer ties that were forming between the Cytherians and Habbers in that settlement, and this had fueled the suspicions of many. Others would vote for expulsion only so that they would not be on record in support of this world's enemies. Secrecy in voting, as in other things, did not serve Ishtar.
The Habbers would go. Their agreement would compel them to leave if they were no longer welcome; Turing would be left to Cytherians. The Habbers on the Islands would be next; Alim ibn-Sharif had cultivated allies among his fellow Administrators and with the Project Council on Anwara. Sigurd Kristens-Vitos would be asked to resign as Liaison to the Council. If he gave in gracefully and admitted that the Habbers had led him astray, perhaps he could continue as an Administrator. The Habbers would lose their most powerful ally. If their past history was any indication, they would depart from the Islands rather than risk a confrontation and show themselves to be the cowards they were. They would have to leave or admit that all their talk of only wanting to help Cytherians was a lie.
She almost hoped a few would resist; individual Habbers had occasionally shown a little courage in the past. Some people on the patrol would enjoy demonstrating exactly how futile such actions would be. They were Habbers; she did not have to love them.
"A new era is dawning," Matthew said. "You've worked for this, and yet you seem troubled. In just two days, once we're past these celebrations, the Habbers will see that they no longer have a place here. Are you afraid that they'll try to stand against us? They wouldn't have only Cytherians to contend with but Earth as well."
"Maybe that still troubles me," she said. "With the Habbers gone, there would be little to prevent the Mukhtars from reasserting their control over this Project. It's the reason we've been as patient as we have."
"Now you're sounding like Eva. How many times do I have to tell you that our interests coincide with Earth's at the moment? We want to be rid of the last obstacle to our progress, and the Mukhtars want to look as though they've regained control here. Let them appoint a new Liaison with the Project Council—it's likely to be Alim, and even if it isn't, any Liaison will be forced to work with us. Earth won't interfere — they'll be happy to let us do the work of subduing the recalcitrant and bringing them around to our truth. We'll have an interim during which we can strengthen the fellowship before the Project proceeds with more settlers. This world will be ours, Chimene."
"If the Mukhtars behave as you say they will."
"They have no reason to do otherwise," he said. "They want only the appearance of control — trying for more would cost them too many of their resources, and they'll already have to make up for the help the Habbers won't be able to provide. Let the Mukhtars believe we're their allies. Eventually, when everyone here is part of our fellowship, when we're strong and thriving — that will be the time to break with Earth."
Chimene did not respond.
"It's only a temporary necessity," he went on, "one that will bring about our perfect society in the end. You'll be the Guide who made that possible. Generations of Cytherians will remember you and bless your name."
She frowned. "Some may say we expelled the Habbers only to bow to Earth."
"No, Chimene. They'll see how wise you were when this world is ours. Don't you know that they love you enough to understand that you wouldn't lead them into error? Do you think they won't trust their Guide? Let the Mukhtars tell their people that Venus is their achievement. Every Cytherian will see that you are the true authority here."
"I have only a Guide's authority," she said, "and the love others choose to give me."
"Sometimes one must make difficult and painful decisions in order to demonstrate one's love. You won't be alone. You'll always have the counsel of those who love you most."
She got to her feet. Matthew rose and took her hands. "Will you return to the celebrations now?" he asked.
Chimene shook her head. "I must rest."
"Then I'll stay with you. You've been under a strain, I know. Perhaps you've waited so long for this time that you can't yet believe that it's nearly upon us."
* * *
Dyami did not have to view the results; he already knew what they would be. The Councils Ishtar controlled would not have allowed this referendum without knowing how it would go. The two hundred or so votes of the Cytherians in Turing would not outweigh the thousands of others.
The people standing around him gazed at the large wall screen in silence. He stepped back and looked at those who were seated on the floor around the dining hall's tables. One man pushed his breakfast away, then bowed his head; Luinne Mitsuo lifted a hand to her mouth. No one else seemed surprised.
"We will make arrangements for the Habbers who will be leaving Turing within a week," Boaz Huerta was saying now; the dome Councils had designated him as their spokesman. "We were told that if it was our will that they leave, the nearest Habitat would send a ship for them. Since their presence is not required on the Islands, they will be returning to their home. We have capable people in Turing who can continue working there."
Dyami heard a few sighs. They had been granted that much, at least.
"We Cytherians have spoken," Boaz continued, "and our voices will be heard. Those who share our goals and our vision are welcome here. Those who seek to deceive us and use us in some hidden plan of their own are not."
Dyami could listen to no more. He walked toward the doorway, where Balin was waiting. Music still filled the hall; no one had bothered to turn it off. Allen Sirit had engineered this piece, blending the sounds to reproduce his own composition. Stringed instruments rose to a crescendo and broke against the deeper, more threatening sound of percussion.
The two men left the hall and walked toward the creek, ignoring those they passed. Amina was sitting outside the shack she had built next to Dyami's, her blond head on the shoulder of Tasida Getran. The brown-haired physician looked up at Dyami and said, "I don't have to ask, do I."
He shook his head. "The vote might have surprised them a little. Almost a quarter of the people in Oberg and Curie voted against expulsion. In Mtshana, it was nearly a third."
"But it doesn't make any difference, of course." Tasida's freckled face contorted. "And things will be a little harder for the ones who voted no."
He walked on with Balin. They did not stop until the greenhouse and the bridge leading across to the glassy building were behind them. Balin settled himself on the bank; his eyes were empty, his thin lips pressed tightly together.