The Shore of Women (8 page)

LAISSA

Eilaan came to see us again. This time, Mother sent me out of the room while they spoke.

I went to bed, but was unable to sleep. Mother might be disgraced, deprived of her position as one of the Mothers of the City; and, if I aided her or did not separate myself from her deeds, I would share her punishment. We might be expelled. I could not rid myself of worry over that extremely remote possibility, could not forget the look in Birana’s eyes when she had been forced to leave us forever.

When I went into the outer chamber, Mother was lying on a couch, one arm thrown over her eyes; her auburn hair was loose and tangled. She lifted her arm and gazed at me with weary eyes.

I said, “We’re going to be punished.”

Her head rolled from side to side. “No. We’ll be watched, and our mindspeaker will be monitored for a time. After Button is gone, an adviser may have to decide if I need counseling—the Council is still discussing that. Eilaan persuaded them not to remove me from my work, since she thinks it’s better that I keep busy and not brood, but I imagine some of my patients may request another physician.” She paused. “Have I done anything so wrong?” She did not wait for me to reply. “Of course, they must be firm even with minor infractions, and especially with women like me, or everything would unravel, wouldn’t it?” She sounded bitter as she spoke. “I must set a good example for others.”

“What about me?”

“Nothing’s going to happen to you, Laissa. I told Eilaan you’d been quite critical of me. You’ll be living with Shayl soon anyway, and once you’ve moved in with her and taken up your studies, nothing I do can affect you. At worst, I’ll be an embarrassment.”

I had been delaying the move, was still anxious about leaving. Now I saw that my own safety lay in leaving as soon as I could.

Mother sat up. “You should be asleep. I thought Shayl was coming over early tomorrow.”

“I can’t sleep.” I sat down across from her. “You know that Eilaan’s right. If you start stretching the rules for Button, other women might do the same, and then…”

“I know. I haven’t been fair to you, either. I haven’t even asked you about your tests, or what you’re going to study.”

In her worry over Button, I doubted that she had thought about me at all. “I’m going to study physics.”

“But the math…”

“I’ll get through it somehow. Shayl can help me.”

“Then the tests didn’t make you change your mind.”

“No.” I didn’t want to talk about that. Bren had intimidated me to the point where I was thinking of changing to general science, but I didn’t want to do that until I talked to Shayl. I suppose that I was hoping she would talk me out of the change.

“I remember when I took my tests,” Mother said. “I was advised to become a historian.”

I stiffened. “Why didn’t you?”

“It isn’t just that it seemed so sordid. The more I learned about the past, the more hopeless the present seemed, the more imprisoned I felt we had become. I wanted to lose myself, forget the questions I had, be like everybody else. I wanted to stay busy so that there wouldn’t be time to think, and in obstetrics and midwifery, I would be doing something useful.” She sighed. “It’s odd. When they’re born, it doesn’t seem to matter whether they’re male or female. All I worry about is their well-being.”

“Mother, send Button out now. If you do that, you’ll be left alone. Don’t wait.”

“It’s too late. I’ve already summoned Button’s brother. I have to hope he finds his way here and that Button will get the best chance I can give him.”

Shayl did not come to our rooms the next morning. I waited and then called her. She was out, but had left a message saying that she would call me later. She never did.

I called her again the next day. This time, her message was apologetic. She was busy, she was behind in her studies, I might want to put off moving until she had caught up with her work. She had been impatient for me to move before.

I went to Shayl’s tower. When her door opened, I saw that she was sitting with a group of young women; none of them seemed to be studying. Shayl bit her lip as she looked at me, then quietly ushered her friends out.

We were alone. I went to the window and stared out between the surrounding towers at the distant wall of our city. She came to my side. She didn’t kiss me as I had expected her to do; she didn’t even reach for my hand. “Laissa, I. . .”

“Why did you leave those messages?”

“Because I didn’t want you to worry. I’ve had so much to do.”

I turned to face her. “That isn’t true. If you’re behind in your work, why were you sitting here talking to your friends?”

Shayl tilted her head. “I was going to study. I was just about to ask them to leave when you came.”

I was ready to apologize until I recalled the rest of her message. “Why did you say that I might want to put off moving?”

Her brown eyes widened. She took a step backward. “Because I thought… well, I thought you needed more time to get ready. And I can help you more when I’m caught up. You’re still going to do physics, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know. I wanted to talk to you about that.”

She sighed. “Let’s talk, then.” She didn’t seem to care whether she talked to me or not; I had never seen her so distant. I followed her across the room; we sat in chairs, facing each other. “Well?”

“I was advised against physics. I was told to consider general science instead.” I paused. Shayl was my best friend, the first girl who had made love to me, the one I loved most deeply; I had always been able to tell her almost anything before. But I had hidden a few things from her—my questions, my doubts—and they now seemed more important than the thoughts I had revealed to her. “The adviser told me I might want to study history and early human culture, too, but I told her that was out of the question.”

Shayl pursed her lips. “Why would you study that? What would you do with it?”

“Well, I asked the same thing, of course. Bren—the adviser—said I could be a chronicler, but I certainly don’t want to be, so I’m thinking of taking general science and concentrating on physics later on. I could use more preparation anyway.” I was shielding myself from her disapproval, as I always had.

Shayl leaned back and drummed her fingers on the arms of her chair. “Maybe you should live with someone else, then. It always helps to live with someone who’s studying the same thing.”

I was numb. She stared past me, refusing to look directly into my eyes.

“It’s just a suggestion,” Shayl went on. “It might be better for you.”

“That’s why you left the messages. You don’t want me to live with you.”

“I didn’t say that, Laissa.”

I leaned toward her. “Tell me the truth. You don’t want me here. You can at least tell me why.”

“It isn’t what I want. It’s my mother. She told me I should reconsider.” Shayl still refused to look at me. “She told me the Council was watching your mother because she’d kept her boy too long. She told me your mother might be…”

“Who told her that?”

“I don’t know.” Shayl’s voice had risen; I had never heard her whine before. “Maybe someone on the Council told her. Word gets around. I always knew your mother pampered that boy too much. With all the Council has to do, they wouldn’t be bothering with her if they didn’t think it was important.”

“What do my mother’s actions have to do with me anyway?”

“You might be disgraced along with her. I haven’t noticed that you’ve gone out of your way to bring her around, or to criticize her. And then there’s that business with Yvara’s daughter—everyone knows you and Birana used to be friends.”

I couldn’t imagine why she would bring that up now. “That was a long time ago.”

“Maybe it was, but it’s just one more thing against you. You’re heading for trouble. You’re still living with your mother, and, if you don’t watch out, you’ll both be disgraced. Now I know why Dorlei’s lovers never stayed with her. Anyway, Mother said it might hurt my own reputation to live with you.” Shayl was no longer whining; her voice had become harsh. “And now you say that you were told to study history. Everyone knows how filthy that is. I know someone has to do it, but Mother wouldn’t want me living with a historian. She doesn’t like me to see Zoreen because of that.”

“But I’m not going to do that. And Bren told me I might be a chronicler later, not a historian.”

“A chronicler. In some ways, that’s worse—writing lies, making everything seem worse than it is.”

“But I’m not going to be…”

“It doesn’t matter.” She twisted a curl of her black hair as she fidgeted. “Mother doesn’t think I should live with you now. Try to understand. She can really make things hard for me with all her nagging.”

I wanted to rage at Shayl, lash out at her. Yvara, I thought, must have felt this way when she raised her knife against her lover; perhaps Ciella had wounded her with crueler words. I remembered the times Shayl had touched me and I had returned her love; I felt betrayed.

I stood up slowly. “Shayl, stop telling me about your mother. You’re not living with her now, and you don’t have to listen to her. At least be honest with me.”

She shook her head, close to tears.

“You’re the one who doesn’t want to live with me, and you couldn’t even come to my rooms to say so. You probably thought I’d get the message after a while. You say I’m in trouble, and you won’t even stand by me or try to help me.” At this point, I nearly faltered, recalling how I had begun to avoid Birana, with no explanation. But this wasn’t the same; I had never been as close to Birana as to Shayl.

“Well, that’s fine with me,” I went on. “I don’t want to live where I’m not welcome. I have more pride than that. I wouldn’t live with you now if you begged me.”

I turned and walked slowly toward the door. I was in front of it before I realized that I was waiting for Shayl to come after me, to ask forgiveness, to tell me that she hadn’t meant what she said.

I stepped through the doorway, still waiting. Shayl did not speak. The door slid shut behind me.

As a child, I had often gone to play in the shadow of the wall, but later I began to avoid the barrier that bounded our city.

Now I was speeding toward it with Button, clutching his hand as I nursed my anger at my mother and at Shayl. I had lost Shayl; I was ashamed that I had loved her, that I had believed she loved me. I couldn’t mend the breach with her, but I had thought of a way I might protect myself against the worse consequences of Mother’s actions.

The city outside the transparent tunnel whipped by us; the towers and then the smaller buildings surrounding the spires became a series of blurred vertical images as the current carried us forward. Button was gaping at the sight; he had never traveled so far from our tower before. The last building flashed past; the flat parkland around the city was a sea of green. Button leaned forward in his seat.

The car in which we were riding floated to the left and slowed as it approached our destination. I stood up as it stopped behind a few empty cars, then opened the door, took Button’s hand, and led him outside.

Five young girls were playing in the area between the tunnel exit and the entrance to the wall; as they caught sight of Button, they waved. “What’s your name?” one brown-haired girl shouted as she ran up to us.

“Button.”

“Button!” The little girl giggled.

“Leave him alone,” I said.

The girl stepped back. “It’s a boy!” She motioned to her friends. “They’re sending him out!”

Her companions squealed. “So long,” one cried; it was soon a chorus. “So long, so long.”

From where we stood, the gray, flat wall seemed to reach nearly to the sky. Button looked up, then began to pull at my arm as we came to the entrance. “Laissa,” he said.

“Hush.”

“Are you sending me away?”

“Be quiet.”

“You are. Laissa!” He dug in his heels; I had to drag him to the entrance. “Where’s Mother? I want Mother!”

The door slid open. The wide hall, its white walls and silvery floor gleaming, stretched to my right and to my left, seeming to reach into infinity. Three women rode by in a cart and frowned at me as Button wailed.

Two patrolwomen were approaching us on foot. Button tugged at my hand as he whimpered; one of the women pulled him away from me, shook her finger at him, and told him to be quiet.

“What’s this all about?” the other said.

“He’s my brother. He has to be sent outside.”

“With which male?”

I gave her the particulars, which I had learned after searching Mother’s records at home—his number, the room in the wall that held him. “He calls himself by the name of Tal,” I added, although that hardly mattered. “I’m supposed to give the boy to him.”

“You, and not your mother? What’s your name?”

“Laissa, daughter of Dorlei, Alta’s Clan.”

Button suddenly threw himself at me; his screams echoed down the long hallway. I pried him from my legs. “Be quiet,” I said.

“I hate you! I don’t want to go!” He screamed more loudly and began to cry. The taller patrolwoman gave him a piece of candy; he dashed it against the floor’s silver tiles.

The short, stocky patrolwoman muttered a few words into her wrist-link, then looked up at me. “I don’t find any authorization for this. You mother is the one who should be here with him. Why isn’t she?”

“She couldn’t come. She sent me instead.” I had to shout to be heard over Button’s loud weeping; I had expected the patrolwoman’s response. The two exchanged glances, and then the shorter one motioned to me.

She led us down the hall to a door. The tall woman picked Button up and thrust him inside the small room. “Wait here,” the short one said to me.

“Why?”

“Just do what we say.”

“He has to go outside,” I said. “He should have been sent out before.”

The shorter woman shoved me into the room; the door slid shut. I touched a panel on the wall, then realized that we had been locked inside.

Button lunged at me; I knocked him aside. He slid across the shiny floor and hit a wall. As he stumbled to his feet, I raised a hand. “You’d better behave.”

“I hate you. I wish you were dead.”

“You have to go outside. You’re going, whether you like it or not.”