Authors: Pamela Sargent
"You're going to leave," Dyami said.
"I have no choice."
"You could refuse — all of you could say you won't go. Your people could insist —"
"And what would that accomplish?" Balin asked. "Your people would then say that what Ishtar believes about us is true — that we abide by your wishes only when they don't conflict with ours. Oh, we could bring more ships here and force you to accept us, but will that bring our people closer together? It would only destroy what little goodwill is left for us."
"You think you'll keep it by running away?"
The Habber touched his forehead, where his Link was hidden. "Your people have spoken. So have ours — those who dwell in the Habitats out near Mars. They are saying that we cannot hold out a hand to people who refuse it This will pass perhaps, and then our people may meet yours again."
"When?" Dyami asked. "But that doesn't matter to you, does it? You may still be alive when everyone now living here is dead. What about those of us in Turing? Doesn't what we want count for anything with you? What about the others who reject Ishtar's dream?"
"That must be your struggle, not ours. You must decide this world's fate. Your people have asked us to leave this planet's surface. Should they ask us to return in the future, we'll do so gladly."
Dyami stepped back. Balin had been his lover for only a year and a half, but that time now seemed to encompass most of his own life. The years before had been lived in the shadow of fear; the boy who had concealed part of himself, who had felt that he would always be alone, was not the man who lived now. He could not have hidden what the Habber meant to him even if he had wished to do so. His openness about his feelings had not only brought him Balin's love, but had also dispelled the lingering doubts some of his colleagues held about him. He had at last been honest with the people here; after their initial surprise, some had come to be true friends. His true life, one without loneliness, had begun.
He should have seen that it could not be the same for the Habber. Balin's life had begun decades before his, and it would continue when his was over. He was no more than a brief interlude. The microscopic implants in the Habber's body would go on maintaining his youth and vigor, replicating new cells to replace the old, when Dyami was no more than a face on a memorial pillar. Balin might have hoped for more years with him, but he had loved others before and would undoubtedly love other people again. Dyami had always known there could be no true bond between them, that this love would pass, yet he had hoped it might endure for longer than this.
"I should have known better than to love a Habber," he said. "Once you're with your own people again, you'll forget me soon enough. You'll tell your friends a few amusing stories about the Cytherian who was foolish enough to love you, and then you'll forget."
"Do you think this is easy for me? Do you think I wouldn't stay if I could or take you with me if that were possible?"
Dyami stared at the ground. "I couldn't go, even if it were. I'd be giving up on my own world, saying it'd never be anything better."
"Maybe it will be. We found each other, didn't we? It didn't matter that I was a Habber and you were a Cytherian. Don't let me leave here thinking that you'll come to share your people's distrust of us. I have to be able to hope we can meet again."
"You're abandoning us," Dyami said.
"We're leaving you to decide what your world will be. You wouldn't have that choice if we remained against the will of most of your people." Balin reached up and took his hand. "We'll still have a little more time together. We can forget the demands of both our worlds for a little while."
Dyami sank to the ground. He would be alone. Easing the demands of his body with other men later would not make up for what he was about to lose. Balin would be gone; he would have to live in shadows again.
* * *
Sigurd felt his world slipping away from his grasp. No Habbers remained in Turing; they were gone now, departing from Anwara in the Habber vessel that had come there for them. Tesia had summoned him to her room; he had already guessed what she would say.
He had been wrong in thinking that he could appease Ishtar, in believing that the wretched cult would never grow strong enough to challenge him. He had ignored the plotting of Alim ibn-Sharif and his allies, certain that they could never gain support for their ambitions from Earth. He had counted on having the Habber presence here as a shield; he had expected to have time enough for people to come to their senses. He had hoped that the people he served would see reason and remember the true goals of the Project. Perhaps he had been in power too long to remember how easily it could be lost.
As usual lately, a patrol volunteer was standing outside the Habber residence, hands hooked around his sash. He glanced at Sigurd briefly, then allowed him to pass. Tesia had been asking him to come here more often, and he knew why; she was convinced, despite his protests, that Alim and his friends had ways of finding out what they said and did in Sigurd's room.
Tesia, wearing a long blue robe, was sitting on her futon. Had he been her lover for over thirty years? It did not seem possible. His waist had thickened a little, and the skin of his once-youthful face sagged a bit more, but Tesia still had the body and face of a girl.
She lifted her chin as he sat down. Her reddish hair was pulled back, making the angularity of her face more evident. "I have something to tell you," she said. "My people have decided to withdraw from Venus entirely. We will be gone in twenty days."
"Aren't you even going to wait until you're asked to leave?"
"There's no reason to wait," she responded. "We know how things will go."
"Maybe you didn't look at the results of that referendum too closely," Sigurd said. "Ishtar's victory wasn't quite as overwhelming as I expected — just a good solid majority. It means that a sizable number of settlers aren't quite so willing to see you go."
"That gives us some hope, but as long as we're here, Ishtar can unite more people by focusing their hatred on us. When we're gone and they see they're rid of us, they'll have to find other outlets. Maybe then, more of your people will be moved to stand against them. To put it another way, it's time to allow this particular kettle to boil."
She was speaking so calmly about possibilities that might bring suffering to many. Habbers, of course, could not bear to witness suffering of any kind. They would rather retreat and let others inflict such wounds on themselves, while Habbers stood aside and told themselves they were blameless.
Tesia could wait. She probably saw his struggles and those of his people as he might view the lives of a short-lived insect colony.
"And when it's boiled over?" he asked. "Maybe Earth will lower the fire. Didn't you think of that?"
"If Earth acts overtly, your people won't give in easily. The Mukhtars would find it difficult both to subdue them and to proceed with this Project without our aid. I think we can expect that our departure will be a temporary one."
He could not even feel angry. She was now viewing his life in the same way he had seen the lives of others — pawns in a game, pieces to be moved in ways that would make his goals for this Project a reality.
"I suppose your people want me to make the announcement," he said. "Maybe you think that if it looks as though I ordered you away, it'll shore up any lingering support I might have. I could give quite a speech, but I'm sure my colleague Alim and his friends will find a way to force me to resign. I may be lucky if I stay on as an Administrator's aide. How gratified Ishtar will be. That bitch Chimene Liang-Haddad will no doubt give a stirring speech of her own about how the new age is beginning to dawn for us."
"One of our ships will head for Anwara," she said. "Because of our respective orbital positions, it can make the journey in less than three days if it leaves sixteen days from now. We'll leave the Platform in your shuttles and meet our ship at Anwara." She paused. "There are only a hundred of us on all of the Islands, so two shuttles should be enough for us — perhaps three, if our closest friends among the Islanders choose to travel with us to Anwara to say their farewells to us there. Surely you won't deny such a request to any Islander who asks."
"Oh, of course not," Sigurd replied, "If anyone's foolish enough to want a few additional moments with those we once thought of as friends, I'll grant them. Even Alim wouldn't object to that, since it will show him exactly who might be most untrustworthy. Some of those people may pay a price for their farewells."
Tesia took a breath. "Those can be the official arrangements anyway." Her face was paler; her hands fluttered nervously.
"What do you mean?"
"They won't be saying farewell to us but to the Islands. Some of us have lovers here or close friends whom we can trust. We'll offer them the chance to come to our Habitat with us. Some will take it, and those who don't won't be people who would betray us. I pleaded with my people for this, and they agreed."
"And exactly how do you expect to accomplish this?" he asked.
"Your pilots will be disabled when they're aboard. There will be Habbers aboard each shuttle capable of piloting it, should the automatic systems fail. When we're in orbit, we'll set course for the Habitat. Our own vessel will never dock at Anwara. Once we're in orbit, the pilots in that ship will go into a high orbit and follow us back. We won't be pursued. You have no vessels docked on Anwara with weapons capable of disabling us at the moment."
Sigurd did not speak.
"We'll return the shuttles, needless to say. I imagine the distaste of your pilots for us will outweigh any fears they might have of reprisals for their carelessness. We know we can reach the Habitat in your shuttles. After all, it's been done before, when our world was close enough to be reached that way. We have those pilots who joined us long ago to advise us."
"And you expect me to see that anyone who chooses to go with you gets aboard those shuttles? That's hardly going to help me here. Alim will never believe that I was unaware of your plans, not after all the years you and I have been together."
She said, "Sigurd, I want you to come with us." She pulled at his arm. "Why do you think I begged my people to allow this? I don't want to leave you behind."
"Some of your people had friends in Turing," he said. "You didn't try to bring along any of them."
"If it had been possible —" Tesia closed her eyes for a moment. "I wish it had been. I had to plead just for this much. You must come."
He gripped her hand tightly, then let go. "I can't."
"Why not? You've done all you can — don't you deserve a life for yourself? You know your position will be precarious when we leave. When it's time, if you and the other Islanders want it, you can return here and rejoin —"
"I might not be a Cytherian by then, but a Habber. No, Tesia. If I leave now, I'll be abandoning my world. I'd be deserting all the people who understood what I was trying to do. I can't do it. I shouldn't even allow others to run away. I'd be wiser to reveal your little plot before you go — that might convince Alim he can trust me a bit more."
"I knew there was a chance of that before I spoke," she said, "but I can't believe you'd do it, and I couldn't hide our plans from you. Sigurd, I was pleading for you — I can't lose you now."
"Would you give up your people for mine?" He did not wait for a reply. "You know the answer to that."
"Sigurd —"
"I'll see you off safely. If I'm reduced to being just a Linker on a team of specialists, I think I can live with that. If some Islanders choose to go with you — well, maybe it's better to be rid of people whose commitment to this world is so weak. You'll forget me, Tesia. You'll have a Habber's long lifetime in which to forget."
"Yes," she whispered. For the first time since he had met her, he saw her weep.
* * *
Boaz Huerta arrived at Risa's house just as she and her household were preparing to eat supper. Risa greeted him at the door, then ushered him into the common room while his two male companions waited outside.
"To what do we owe this unexpected pleasure?" Theron asked.
Boaz waved a hand. "I'm not here to dine with you. Sit down with the others, Risa. I have something to say to all of you."
Risa seated herself at the table. Boaz continued to stand, glancing from her to the others. Sef tensed; Theron stroked his beard. Noella moved a little closer to Nikolai; Grazie and Paul kept their eyes lowered.
Boaz said, "Every one of you voted against expelling the Habbers. Frankly, I was a little disappointed to hear it, but perhaps you've been misled by Dyami. Maybe he's told you in his messages about his fine Habber friends and made you think they're not the wretches they are. It hardly matters now. His friends left quickly enough, and soon the ones on the Islands will be gone. This world belongs to us at last."
Risa hated the man; he spoke as if he were Venus's ruler. She struggled to keep her composure. "I have no particular fondness for Habbers," she said. "It only seemed to me, and to my household, that it was unwise to expel them when we can still make use of their help. We should have been building more domes by now — being without the Habbers will only set us back."
"We can go on without them."
"Not easily."
"All things are possible for Ishtar." Boaz smiled; Risa longed to hurl a plate at his handsome face. "A great deal of work lies ahead for our Guide during this new era. We'll all share her burden, of course, but between her spiritual duties and her consultations with both dome Councilors and Island Administrators, much will be asked of her. She is reluctantly giving up her position as a teacher in order to be better able to serve us all."
"So I've heard," Risa said.
"We also see that it's time for some changes in the patrol," Boaz said. "Several have shown how valuable they are in that capacity and should no longer be distracted by other work. They will become permanent members of the patrol, although volunteers will continue to work with them. That will mean others will have to take on their former duties, but with a few adjustments, that additional burden shouldn't fall too heavily on anyone."