Authors: Pamela Sargent
Alim dabbed at his damp face with a sleeve of his formal robe. "Our walk seems to have tired you," Chimene said. "Perhaps I should have refused your kind offer to walk with me."
"Oh, no, my dear. I should keep myself more fit and stronger for my new responsibilities."
"Maybe you need a metabolic adjustment."
"I've had a couple. I only end up eating more, and I'm also too much in the habit of using carts. Any more metabolic tampering, and I'd turn into a wisp if we ever had food shortages. No, I simply must discipline myself — more walking and less food." He looked mournful at the prospect. "Anyway, I wanted to speak to you alone."
She felt a qualm. "Oh?"
"I felt you might need some reassurance," he said. "You didn't seem happy with some of what Boaz and Matthew said at dinner."
"My brothers are wise, but I also worry that they dismiss possible difficulties too easily. We are embarking on a new era, but I still fear what Earth may do. I wouldn't want the Mukhtars to think that with the Habbers gone, they can have a freer hand here. It's true that we have less to fear from Earth than from Habbers, but surely Earth is better served by allowing us more control of our own affairs. Boaz often seems indifferent to the Mukhtars' possible reactions."
"That's exactly what I wanted to reassure you about," the Administrator responded. "I know how to deal with Earth. As long as I'm Liaison, you needn't concern yourself with the Mukhtars. Leave the Project Council and the Mukhtars to me. I can grant them enough small concessions to keep them from wanting larger ones, and none of it will affect us in the least. In fact, I had a message from the Project Council today."
Chimene raised her brows. "You didn't mention it at dinner."
"I wanted you to hear about it first. The Mukhtars are gratified that the Habbers are gone, and they're not about to offend the Guide who made that possible. They'll aid us in whatever way they can, and all they'll ask is that we go on with our service to the Project. They're aware of your great love for your people and the love they bear you. They have no desire to interfere with anything that can only further the progress of the Project."
She smiled a little.
"The Mukhtars were upset by Sigurd's recent actions," he continued, "but he will be punished, and the Project is now on its proper course. What he did only shows how far he forgot his duty, and his fate will be an example to others. The Mukhtars may choose to believe that I have their interests at heart, but you and I know that we both serve Venus in the end. I'll intercede for you, and you and your followers will have a free hand here."
"Only so that others can be brought to our way."
Alim placed a hand over his heart. "I'm moved by the love I see for you in the eyes of those closest to you. It only makes me admire you more, that you can elicit such devotion. I can even — may God forgive me — feel a little envious. All of us will serve you. Even I, who am not your brother in Ishtar, only want to share the burden you bear as the Guide." He was silent for a moment. "Someday, you may even meet the Mukhtars as an equal, as the ruler of our world."
"I'm only the Guide," she said, "not a ruler."
"But you must guide your people. That may require acting as a ruler would, but only to bring the society you want closer. Won't you help your people more by accepting any power that's given to you? You can set it aside when your goals are achieved. I've spoken highly of you to the Project Council. Word of that should reach the Mukhtars in one of the Council's reports."
She turned toward the dome wall just beyond the railing. Her world was below, hidden by the dark and turbulent clouds. Centuries of effort had made it possible for people to live here, and now their fate was in her hands. Could she turn away now and say that a Guide's duty was only to persuade and set an example but not to rule? She had accepted other necessary evils to further Ishtar's aims and had accomplished more than Kichi had envisioned.
I am Ishtar, she thought; I carry the dreams of all my people. I could not have won this much unless the Spirit had guided me and had spoken to me with the voices of those around me. With every step along this path, more obstacles to the truth have vanished. The Spirit is with me. Even Earth's Mukhtars will see that now, and all they understand is power — seeking it and keeping it. They have to see me as one with the power to stand against them, and when we are stronger, I can share my power with all of my sisters and brothers. Perhaps I must rule now, as the Spirit rules me . . .
Twenty-Seven
Three members of the patrol were walking past Risa's house when she came outside. One man lifted a wand in greeting; Risa forced herself to smile as she waved back.
Theron was sitting under a tree with Yakov Serba; she went toward the two men. Risa had been careful to alert the patrol that some other friends and neighbors would be gathering there tonight and that they needn't trouble themselves about any visitors who left her home late. Just a small party, she had told them, while Irina Burian was visiting with her son from ibn-Qurrah. She had even invited Andrew Dinel, although he and his bondmate Grete had stayed only long enough to greet Irina and share a drink with her and Nikolai. It did not matter; Andrew's respectable presence, however brief, had probably also reassured the patrol.
She sat down next to Yakov. Theron held out his cup of whiskey; she shook her head.
"I had a message from Dyami yesterday," she said. "In his customary roundabout way, he let me know that the people in Turing would support us in whatever we do." Lately, she preferred to discuss such matters outside. She could not escape the feeling, irrational though it might be, that otherwise someone might be listening in to whatever she said. She inspected her house often, searching for any small eavesdropping devices a visitor might have planted, but she had not yet found anything. She used only private channels to speak to her son but remained cautious in what she said, as he did.
"I expected they'd feel that way," Yakov murmured. "Unfortunately, there's not much any of us can do."
"I've been hearing more complaints lately," Theron said, "about the patrol, about the months the Guide has spent on Island Two."
Risa had heard similar complaints. The patrol had grown more heavy-handed, even restricting the movements of people they distrusted. There was some divisiveness within the patrol's ranks; the volunteers were beginning to resent the permanent members, who seemed to think all decisions should rest with them. Other people worried about the specialists and Linkers the Project had lost — those who had fled with the Habbers and those who had been detained and deprived of their Links. Even among the pilots, who as a group had always been strongest in their devotion to Ishtar, there was muttering about the Guide who might have forgotten her duty to the fellowship and who spent more time with Administrators than with her brethren. All of this free-floating discontent might be useful to Risa and those who felt as she did, if they could find a way to harness it.
But they had not. The domes on which their lives depended had to be maintained, and this required their cooperation, regardless of their feelings. Some had spoken of trying to poison food taken to the Guide's household or of using more discontented members of the patrol against those they resented, but such actions could also bring reprisals that might destroy any chance for change. A few wilder ideas had also been entertained — refusing to work, threatening one settlement or more with destruction if Ishtar and the Administrators did not give in to certain demands, even seizing the Platform. Risa had done her best to put a stop to such speculation; it was not likely that they could succeed, and such attempts would give the cult more excuses to tighten their control. Even if they could succeed, she was not about to encourage anything that could only threaten the world they hoped to save.
"Irina says things are a little worse in ibn-Qurrah," Risa said.
"So I've heard," Yakov responded. "More people are being asked for larger voluntary contributions."
"Contributions!" Risa cursed under her breath. "It's a good thing Andy so kindly brought us two bottles of whiskey — otherwise, I doubt there would have been enough for all our guests."
"We have to hope things do get worse, you know," Yakov continued. "That would mean more people would be likely to side with us."
The engineer, unfortunately, was right. If things got worse, they would have a chance to make them better. They could not possibly succeed against Chimene and her inner circle unless more of the settlers, including members of the cult, came over to their side.
The door to the house opened. Carlos Tokugawa walked down the path, carrying his small son; his daughter clung to his other hand. Lena Kerein followed her bondmate and children outside. "Thanks for the hospitality," Carlos said as he passed. "Nice seeing Irina again."
"Going so soon?" Risa asked.
"Carlos wants to take the children home," Lena said, "but I'll stay for a bit." She kissed Carlos, then settled herself in front of the globe of light next to Risa.
Risa eyed the younger woman warily; she had never been sure of how much she could trust Lena. "It's too bad Chimene couldn't be here to see Irina," Lena went on, "but I suppose she's getting too grand to bother about a little get-together like this."
There, Risa supposed, was the source of some of Lena's discontent. Chimene did not often see her old friend, and lately their exchanges had been limited to an occasional message.
"It might be just as well," Risa said. "Chimene and Irina were never especially close."
"Still —" Lena gestured with an arm. "It's those people around Chimene. I can't tell you how many times I've called or gone to her house, only to have Matthew or Eva or that old man Lang tell me that she's too busy to see me. She listens to them too much, especially Boaz."
Risa pursed her lips. "You're speaking of the prospective father of my grandchild — that is, if my daughter ever finds the time in her busy schedule to give birth."
"Too bad for you. Frankly, I never liked Boaz. Oh, he probably serves well enough as a bed-partner, but I think he lost sight of our ideals long ago — sharing goes one way with him. If Chimene didn't love him so much, she'd see what he is fast enough, but she's the Guide, and she probably can't believe that anyone so close to her might give her bad advice." Lena's mouth twisted. "Let's hope the Spirit opens her eyes soon and brings her back to the right path."
Lena might believe that Chimene had only been misled by her companions; Risa was not sure that she shared that belief. It would have been easier if she could, if she could hope that some sort of reconciliation might be possible.
"I think she made a terrible mistake in calling that referendum," Lena continued.
"Our dome Councils were responsible for that," Theron said.
"But we all know they would have sought the Guide's advice or Boaz's, which amounts to the same thing nowadays. She might have used her influence to postpone it or to point out what a bad idea it was."
"You didn't seem to think," Risa said, "that expelling the Habbers was a bad idea at the time." She knew how Lena and her household had voted then.
"Maybe I've changed my mind." Lena brushed at a loose strand of brown hair. "This wasn't the time to get rid of them, not when we still need their help. We could have been building more settlements in the Freyja Mountains by now, and it's not going to be easy to do that alone. People may wonder about the wisdom of their votes when they're told there's no room to build new houses or that there'll be even more restrictions on the number of children they have. A couple of my friends — fervent believers, I assure you — are even saying that things were better when the Habbers were here and Sigurd Kristens-Vitos was the Liaison."
Risa frowned. She had heard no news of Sigurd since his disgrace. Maybe he was regretting that he hadn't fled with the Habbers; perhaps he was no longer alive. She wondered if Chimene and those around her were capable of ridding themselves of Sigurd once and for all.
"You're certainly being blunt," Theron said.
"I wouldn't talk this way to just anyone," Lena replied. "But I don't think any of you will think unkindly of my words." Theron stared at her blandly; Yakov was trying to look unconcerned. "I'm even more worried after the message I got from Chimene earlier."
"Oh?" Risa arched her brows.
"She does still occasionally send off a few words, usually when she's got something to brag about. It wasn't anything specific this time, just hints about the Mukhtars taking a greater interest in our affairs and consulting with the Project Council about how to proceed. She seems to think this growing interest is a sign that even the Mukhtars are willing to work with her — and Administrator Alim, of course — out of gratitude for the fact that the Habbers are gone. Well, when Earth starts getting more interested in us, I begin to worry."
"I expected that they would," Yakov said. "We will be more dependent on them now, but since Earth doesn't have to worry about Habbers trying to subvert us any more, chances are —"
"You hope," Lena said. "Anyway, I thought you might be interested in what she told me, vague as it was." She stood up. "I'd better get home. Do tell Sef I thought his berry wine was delicious."
Risa was silent until Lena was out of earshot, then said, "I wonder why Lena dropped that tidbit our way."
"Maybe she suspects that we'd all like to do more than complain," Theron answered. "It might be her way of saying that she's with us. If she spreads news of that message around, it could sow doubt about what Earth's intentions are, and that could help us."
"Do you think she can be trusted?" Yakov asked. "You know the woman better than I do."
"She's an old friend of Chimene's," Risa said. "Her faith in Ishtar isn't a fanatic's, but she admires its ideals. Lena probably believes that if she went and had a stem talk with her old schoolmate, Chimene would suddenly see reason."
"Well." Yakov sipped from his cup. "We certainly wouldn't want her betraying any of our plans in an effort to convince the Guide to mend her ways."