Eye of the Comet (17 page)

15

The Wanderer had traveled closer to the sun along the comet’s parabolic path, and the solar fire had swelled until all of space seemed filled with a bright, yellow light marred only by the mottling of sunspots. Flares arched from the fiery surface as the solar storms raged, leaping out toward the intruding comet before falling back, recaptured by the sun’s gravity.

Most of the cometdwellers stayed below, inside their roots. Lydee was one of the few who ventured out, hovering near the uppermost limbs of the trees, safe behind the comet’s protective energy field, her shuttle’s dome darkened so that she could gaze at the heavenly fire. Homesmind, near as It was to the sun, had kept at a safe distance, and yet at times Lydee could imagine the sun roiling up and making a cinder of the thief that was stealing its light.

She traveled up through the trees to view the sun on several occasions, as if the light of the sun’s atomic furnace could somehow illuminate the dark corridors inside her. Once, she knew, humankind had seen the star as an unchanging, eternal presence, but it, like the tiny creatures basking in its rays, was being transformed. Its atoms of hydrogen would combine in the violence of atomic fusion to form new elements until, billions of years later, the sun began to die. No human eyes were likely to see its death, and darkness would triumph.

As the comet fled, beginning its outward journey, the sun shrank until it was once again a baleful, but more distant, eye, gazing unwinkingly at the children who could now escape it.

* * *

Tila had proposed a game in one of the mazes, and the others had quickly agreed. Lydee had managed to find her way through the maze first. It was her turn now to design a new maze. She offered her turn to Jerod while Tila, Nara, and Pilo returned to the maze’s center to wait for the boy to set up a new pattern.

The mirrored walls of the maze slid along the floor, shaping another maze as Jerod designed his labyrinth, frowning while he directed Homesmind through his link. “There,” he said. “They’ll have a hard time finding their way through that.” The bald boy stretched out on the grassy carpet bordering the maze. “You used to like mazes.”

Lydee shrugged. While searching for a way through Tila’s maze, she had repressed an impulse to touch the girl’s mind and read her pattern. She had found her way out alone as an infinite number of her reflected images scurried through the labyrinth with her. She had remained locked within herself, as had all of the cometdwellers since viewing Homesmind’s reconstruction of what had happened on Earth.

Little had changed. The cometdwellers seemed so anxious to prove it that their normal activities were pursued with a frantic desperation. Homesmind had Its link with Earth’s Minds. If Reiho wanted to dwell among primitives and guide them, that was his affair; he would tire of his Earthwoman soon enough. Etey and her friends might speak of change, even of developing their mindpowers, but if they pushed too hard, others would simply have to build a new home and leave Etey to this one.

Lydee had listened to such talk. She herself had been forgiven; she was still a child and had suffered unspeakable things. It was natural for her to feel a little concern for the planet that had given her life, but in time she would put it behind her.

Jerod nudged her with one elbow. “You’re always so silent now, Lydee.”

She glanced at him. His smile, as usual, warned her not to talk of anything too serious or intense. Jerod guarded himself now, as if determined not to lapse into overly emotional displays. “Words don’t seem enough after you’ve touched others’ thoughts.” At least she could say that to him. Tila, Nara, and Pilo always changed the subject whenever she alluded to Earth.

“I understand.”

She wondered if he did. Her friends had tried so hard to make her feel welcome during the past months that she had nearly felt smothered by their solicitude. Their courtesy and concern were only another wall between her and them.

The comet had already passed Earth’s orbit on its outward journey; the planet would soon be only a tiny blue orb. “Once,” she said slowly, “you told me that you would go to Earth with me.”

Jerod’s blue eyes widened; his smile faded for a moment. “Oh, I suppose I meant it then. I don’t imagine I could go now, really I couldn’t.” He was stressing his words a bit too much. “It’s not a place for people like us — so uncomfortable. I wouldn’t get along at all — I’d be completely incompetent. I’m sure I’d be of no use to anyone and would get into all sorts of trouble.” He grinned uneasily. “Anyway, I prefer being with you and my other friends here. We’ll build a new home and maybe we’ll leave this system. I’d like that. A lot of people want to build a new home now. I suppose they’ll have their own ideas about how it’s to be, but that can’t be helped. Maybe we should seed two comets — one for the old and one for the young. You won’t think about Earth once you’re there.”

Jerod had an arch tone in his voice; he was babbling again, as he often seemed to do. She gazed into his eyes intently. He stared back blankly, then suddenly looked away.

“The people of Earth didn’t just suffer for themselves,” she said softly. “They believed our worlds would grow closer, but the distance between us is as great. What a cruel joke Reiho’s work is after all. What are the Earthpeople going to think when they learn how few here care?”

Jerod’s eyes narrowed. For a moment, she almost believed that he was trying to reach out to her with his mind, but that had to be an illusion.

“They’re being helped,” he replied. “They have what they need. If Homesmind insists on staying in this system, then those who agree with It will stay and the rest will go. Anyway, you returned — you didn’t stay behind. So you must feel the same way we do.”

His words had touched her guilt. She rested her arms on her knees. “At first, I wanted to forget, but I can’t. Then I thought that others would do what I couldn’t do, but that won’t happen. And I told myself I might be needed here, but no one is, really.”

Jerod’s head drooped, as if so much frank conversation had exhausted him. When he looked up again, his eyes seemed glazed. “Well, we need you. We simply didn’t have as much fun while you were away — we’re so used to being a pentagram rather than a rectangle. Your absence really did affect our interactions, you know.” He waved a hand toward the maze. “Look — Pilo’s the first.”

The dark-haired boy hurried out of the maze. “Very clever, Jerod. But I think I can design one you won’t have an easy time in.”

Lydee forced herself to smile.

* * *

After seeing her friends to their dwellings, she returned to her boat. A young woman on a neighboring sailboat waved at Lydee, who returned the greeting before going below deck. Her boat swayed gently as the lake lapped softly at its hull; she heard a musical laugh and then the sound of a flute over the chatter on the boat berthed next to hers.

The people living on the lake had tolerated Lydee, asking nothing about her time on Earth. Their demands were few. She was always invited to join them in their party, a never-ending affair which died down only long enough for the participants to sleep or go sailing or visit other friends, yet no one seemed to mind when she kept to herself. One of the women often went sailing with her, but Lydee could not recall her acquaintance ever discussing anything except boats.

She took out a bottle of wine and went topside again. A few white sails skimmed over the water in the distance; the party had moved on to another dock, where the celebrants were boarding a larger boat. She sprawled on the deck in the hazy, yellow light, gulped from her bottle, then propped her head against a cushion.

She thought of her old cave, which she had abandoned. She had not wanted to stay there alone; the cave reminded her of Reiho, and that inevitably led to thoughts of Earth. Homesmind had offered her a new mentor, but she had refused, thinking that she now knew as much about life as any mentor could teach her. Homesmind had understood. She rarely spoke to It now.

What was life for? What was it supposed to be? It had become a mistake on Earth, but that was beginning to change. What was it here? Perhaps it was another kind of mistake, one which could not be seen so easily.

She stretched out, covering her eyes with one arm. The light was warm; the taste of the dry, fruited wine lingered in her mouth. A breeze from the shore carried the clean, leafy scent of trees. She would gather sensations, treasuring those most pleasurable; maybe she needed no other purpose.

The boat creaked slightly as someone boarded. She lay still, knowing that the visitor would go to another boat after realizing that Lydee did not want to be disturbed.

“Lydee?”

She sat up, turning toward the stern.

“Greetings,” Genlai said. The woman’s blue eyes, as usual, were dreamy and unfocused, but her hands moved nervously as she pulled at a white band of clothing, pressed her fingertips together, then let her arms fall to her sides, making fists. “I am saying my farewells.” Her voice was so low that Lydee could barely hear her.

“You’ve said them so many times,” Lydee responded in gentle tones so that the woman would not think she was being mocked.

“I think this time is the last.” Genlai’s voice shook on the last word.

“But why?” Lydee asked. Genlai was silent. “I don’t want to probe, but I always thought that boredom and fatigue had driven you to have such a desire. You can now choose to do something new, if you want to.”

“Yes. You have seen to that.” Genlai’s tone was still gentle, but her hands were clenched so tightly that her knuckles were white. “Things may change. It frightens me. A few speak of links with Earth while Homesmind is entranced with that old world’s Mindcores. That sort of knowledge brought death to many there, and it may do the same here in time. I can’t bear to live to see it.”

Lydee had a sudden urge to grab the woman and shake her, but that would only frighten her away. She held out a hand. “You mustn’t feel that way. I didn’t come back here to watch people die because of what has happened.”

“Yet even you are content to leave Earth to others — you, who were born there. Others feel as I do. We’ll say our farewells and depart. Homesmind will shape us our last dreams. My death will be a peaceful and pleasant one.”

“Don’t speak of pleasant deaths to me, Genlai. I’ve seen too much death. Everything that is you will be gone, torn from this world, nonexistent. Homesmind may give you a dream, and recycle your corpse, and preserve a record of your life, but you’ll no longer
be
. That can’t be better than living.” She had spoken too harshly; Genlai had backed away, as if ready to leap from the boat. “The Earthfolk are willing to reach out to us, even though their lives will change much more than ours.”

“They are used to hard lives. I’m not.” Genlai covered her eyes for a moment, then jumped from the boat before Lydee could stop her, splashing through the water to the shore.

Lydee thumbed her belt and flew toward the sand, landing in front of the woman and blocking her way. “Listen to me.” Genlai shrank back, holding up a hand. “Go to another world if you want, seed a new home. Do anything, but don’t die.” Genlai stared passively at Lydee. “I’m responsible for this,” Lydee continued. “I can bear it if people run away, or even reject the possibility of ties with Earth, but not their deaths. You can’t leave me with that burden.”

“We’re free to do as we like.”

“No, we’re not. That’s another thing I’ve found out.”

“You ran away from Earth.”

“I might have been wrong.” Lydee paused, struggling for words. “You came to see me because you’re still uncertain. You really don’t want to say farewells — you’re just afraid. I was afraid, too. I could have died many times on Earth.” She took the woman’s hand, helping her onto the sand, then kept her grip, afraid that Genlai might flee.

“I’ve never felt a fear like this.” She leaned against Lydee. “I wish things could be as they were.”

“I do, too. But they can’t.”

“Walk with me, child. You are the only one who has asked me to live.” They made their way along the beach as people on docks and boats called out greetings in musical voices.

* * *

As Lydee walked back to her dock, she wondered if she had aided Genlai at all. The woman had promised to speak to her other unhappy friends, and Homesmind would not allow her to die in this uncertainty, but her fear would not disappear soon. Genlai had a new weapon, if she chose to use it; she could open her link and turn her mind against itself.

As she stepped onto the dock, she saw that Etey was waiting on her boat. “How nice to see you,” Lydee said without meaning it as she stepped aboard and sat down on a cushion.

  — We can mindspeak, if you prefer —

Lydee raised her head.

“Oh, yes,” Etey continued aloud. “I have been practicing with a couple of my more daring friends. I’m afraid it hasn’t made me very popular. It’s been difficult. I worried that too many feelings I might be unaware of would come out, that I wouldn’t be able to deal with them. Well, I needn’t have worried. It seems I’ve lived too long to feel anything very intensely, except perhaps for curiosity.” She sounded almost disappointed at lacking emotional depths.

“You’re fortunate, then. Many can still feel fear.” Lydee sighed. “I’d rather not mindspeak right now.”

“We might have used your help.”

“For what?”

“To contribute your ideas on what we should do for Earth.”

“We’re already helping.”

“Oh, we send Reiho what he needs. But that isn’t enough, Lydee. What are we to do when or if the Earthdwellers want more contact with us? What will it do to them when they realize we don’t really care?”

Lydee did not reply.

“Oh, well. We are all in shock, so to speak, but that always passes.”

Lydee frowned. “What an odd way to put it.”

“It’s obvious. Do you think only Earth has discovered how insignificant it is? Do you believe that it’s the only culture that must renew itself? So must we. If we reject what has happened and don’t change, we’ll either rot or tear ourselves apart. In time, we may meet something else that doesn’t fit into our tidy lives, and then we may be destroyed one way or another. We’re not the only beings in the universe, you know.”