Eye of the Comet (19 page)

“But you know that she won’t remain that way. When she has her implant, her powers will be like yours.”

“She’ll have a crutch, you mean, like a cripple. I have tried to accept her, but I reach out and she can’t even sense my thoughts. It’s hard to form a bond. I see why it’s best that such children be with others like themselves.” Silla pulled her shirt down, then rubbed the child’s back. “Daiya tells me that the world will come to accept such separate selves and will commune freely with them, but I’m not so sure. Reiho hopes for others to come here from the sky, but when I touch his thoughts, I see his doubts.”

“Some will come here eventually.”

“I don’t think they should. Let Reiho or your world’s Mind teach the people here how to give such children their crutches. Then you can go back to your own world.”

“But we want these children to be part of both worlds.”

“They’ll never be that. I think that they’ll always be separate both from this world and from yours. They will be like you, Lydee.”

It was the first time Silla had used her name. “And what am I like?”

“You look for a purpose. You try to fill the empty spot I see inside you. Your mind has sharp edges and is filled with strange thoughts. You divide time into segments and see a line stretching from one place to another instead of an eternal cycle. You separate yourself from this world with machines and devices, and think we will come to do the same.”

“I might become more like you.”

“But you’ll never be one of us, and you aren’t a true skydweller, either. You’re an exile.” Silla shrugged. “Well, I have a child, poor creature that she is, and there will be others. Maybe they won’t be like this one, though if they are, we’ll send them here.” She rested the child’s head on her shoulder. “Harel and I will soon go to another village, and leave Anra here.” There was a note of triumph in her voice; Daiya, too, would be left behind. “That will be best. She’ll be with those like her.”

Daiya and Harel were walking toward them along the path, carrying buckets of water. They smiled when they saw Lydee, but showed no surprise; they had already known she was there.

Silla stood up. “Take her.” She thrust the baby at Lydee, who held Anra gingerly, uncertain about what to do with her. The baby wailed; her covering felt damp. Lydee made a face; Anra screamed. Daiya laughed as she set down her bucket.

“I have much to learn,” Lydee said, handing the child back to Silla. “I can’t even hold her without making her cry.”

Harel went to Silla and took his daughter from her. “You’ll learn,” Daiya said. “The Merging Selves have raised many children and they’ll show you what to do.” A wistful look passed over her face as she gazed at the baby.

“You don’t need me for that. Our teachers and guides should come here — they know more than I do.”

“You will learn.”

Harel crooned to Anra, rocking her gently in his arms. Daiya beckoned to Lydee; they began to stroll along the path toward another hut. “Anra will come to see us as her parents rather than Silla and Harel,” Daiya said.

I shouldn’t have come back, Lydee thought to herself, already feeling useless as she followed her sister into the hut.

* * *

Lydee sat on the hill. Daiya’s old hut had become only a heap of bricks; vines had begun to sprout along the remaining wall.

In the distance, Daiya was walking along the riverbank with Etey. At least Daiya had found some contentment; she had been sharing a hut with Reiho. Her feelings for him might be feeble compared to what she had once felt for Harel, but Reiho too was still learning how to share himself. He would have no time to concern himself with Lydee.

She could go back to the comet; her friends there would understand. Earth would be a series of images in Homesmind’s thoughts. Here, she was in the way, someone to be given useless tasks to keep her busy. She had felt the pity of the remaining villagers.

The sun was setting. Those tilling the fields put down their tools and walked toward the huts. Perhaps she should rebuild Daiya’s old house and live outside the village as her sister had.

She heard a faint hum, and looked up. Reiho was returning from the south, where he had gone that morning to bring back a child. His shuttle floated over the hill, dipped toward the meadow, and landed near the fields. The door opened. Reiho got out; a pair of hands handed him a small bundle. A parent, or someone else willing to help with the children, must have returned with him. She turned back toward the river.

  — Lydee —

The thought was faint, but clear. She raised her head, sensing a familiar mind. Three people were standing next to the shuttle; as she watched, they lifted themselves and began to fly toward her. She clasped her hands together.

  — Marellon — she called out.

He soared, dived, then alighted in front of her as Luret and Wiland landed next to him. Their minds sang as they ran to her; Luret and Marellon embraced her as Wiland stood to one side.

  — Reiho told us you’d come back — Luret said. — He spoke to us through the Minds and stopped for us on the way back. We had to come when we found out you were here —

Lydee swallowed, unable to mindspeak. She had not told Reiho to do that.

/No/ a voice said inside her. /But We did. We can show kindness, you see/ She wondered if it was kindness after all; Marellon might have come only to say another farewell to her.

Luret put up her wall, then led Wiland a short distance down the hill, leaving Marellon alone with Lydee.

“I thought you might have found a partner by now,” she said as the boy sat down.

“No. I want no partner. Whenever I went to another, I saw you, and she would sense that, and I would touch a body without touching a mind. That is worse than no love at all.” He paused. — Do we need that clumsy talk —

  — No — She reached for his hand. There were hollows in his cheeks; his face was leaner, more like a man’s. — I may give you sorrow, Marellon. I have been thinking of leaving again —

  — But this time I see that you’re fighting against it —

  — You wouldn’t have children with me. I know Earthfolk set great store by that —

  — I do not want them with another. There are enough on Earth who will have them —

  — I would have to watch you age —

  — You can always see me as you want to see me with your thoughts. My mind will be the same. And even when I’m gone, my image can speak to you, for I believe the Minds under the mountains preserve the souls of the dead —

He was wrong. The Minds held only their memories, as Homesmind did, not actual patterns of those who had once lived; she was sure of that. It could not be anything more; she wished that she could believe it were.

  — Call it what you will — Marellon thought. — We have always believed that the dead live on, and it’s possible that the Minds gather their souls. I’ve felt the warmth of human thoughts mingled with the cold flames of those Minds. We don’t yet know all that the Minds can do. I’ve spoken to Them often, and through Them to your Homesmind. I have seen distant stars and other worlds. I have viewed the past and have seen what we have lost, and also how small we are — Marellon’s mind seemed lonelier than she remembered, but the bitterness and anger she had once sensed in him were gone.

  — I’m happy you’re here — she said, though he had sensed that. — But there is nothing for me to do. I seem to be useless wherever I go —

  — But you could come with us when we leave again. Would you be willing to do that? —

She drew back. — Then you aren’t staying here, in the village? —

  — We came to see if you would journey with us, Lydee. It isn’t wise to wait until others come to us. We must reach out more, perhaps to villages in other parts of Earth. We want to travel from village to village and mindspeak with those who still shrink from what has happened. It’s hard for some to speak with the Minds, and many fear the power those Minds can give them. If they see you, they may stop fearing you and your ways, and with us as your companions, they’ll know that friendship with you and other skydwellers is possible. That is something you could do —

  — It could be dangerous —

  — Of course. Some may chase us away or strike out. Others may wall themselves in. We can’t force ourselves on anyone, but some may learn to accept us. And we should try to save those who still die, the separate selves —

  — But I can’t live as you do. I’ll need supplies —

  — You’ll have your vessel. That would be easier than traveling on foot or on horseback. With the vessel, we’ll also be able to offer them gifts, and that may help us —

  — But when they see the tools I have — she objected, — they might only feel primitive and inferior —

Marellon laughed. — When they see that you require such things, they’ll feel superior to you. It’s just as well. That way, they’ll keep their pride —

That sort of life, she saw, would be something they could share, though to have it they would have to give up the lives they might have had. She would lose her old world, but Marellon would also be a wanderer without his own hut and village. She sighed. Love, apparently, required such sacrifices.

He looked down. — Will you come — he asked, — or are you trying to find another objection? —

  — I’ll go with you, Marellon — Her link glowed inside her for a moment; Homesmind was content.

  — Look — He gestured at the village. Flowers suddenly blossomed around the huts, which were abruptly transformed, becoming crystal structures with twinkling facets. The streets, now wider, were alive with people, some clothed in robes or tunics, others wearing silver lifesuits. Shuttles sat at the edges of the fields and near a tree-lined park; overhead, the comet appeared, lighting the sky. A beam of light shot up from the village, pointing to the heavens as the people below called out to the universe, seeking other intelligences. Marellon, with the power of the Minds, was showing her his vision of how Earth was to be.

The images faded; the shabby village reappeared.

  — Perhaps — she said, hoping.