Venus of Dreams (22 page)

Iris lowered her eyelids. "I guess I do."

"Going to have his child?"

"I don't know. That's what my mother wants. I don't know if I'm ready for one yet."

"You're as ready as you'll ever be." Laiza smiled. "I might have had one myself if this gardening job hadn't come along. Now I'll have to wait. It doesn't matter. Maybe I'll wait until I'm nineteen or twenty. I guess I'd come home by then."

"What if you like it in Denver?"

"Oh, I wouldn't stay away forever."

"I would," Iris said fervently.

Laiza gaped at her, clearly surprised. "No you wouldn't. You'd come back, just like your grandmother, just like everybody does."

A door near the left corner of the hall opened and Chen came out, carrying his bag of tools. "Guess what?" Iris said. "Laiza's going to Denver this spring."

Chen grunted.

"I'm going to be a Linker's gardener," Laiza said. "You know what? I'm going over to the tavern and call all our friends and then I'm buying beer for everybody. Why don't you both come over?"

"Have to work," Chen said.

"Come by later, then. I'm going to be there until supper-time." She glanced at Iris. "What about you?"

"I'll come over in a little while, all right?"

"Oh, I see." Laiza smirked. "A little fun with lunch, right?" She giggled. "Well, I'll see you later."

"Congratulations," Chen said. Laiza flashed a toothy smile at him and then hurried outside.

"Laiza wouldn't mind if you spent a night with her," Iris said.

"You wouldn't mind that?"

"Why should I mind?" she asked, surprised to find that she did. "She's my friend."

"Well, I don't want to."

The answer made her oddly happy. She wandered over to the room the Counselor used while visiting and bumped against the door when it did not open. "Something's wrong with this door."

"Nothing's wrong," Chen replied. "It's locked."

"That door's never been locked before."

"It is now." He paused. "Counselors have complained. They don't like to come into a room and find things strewn around and have to clear their screens and memories because somebody forgot to do it."

"That's ridiculous," she protested. "We always leave everything neat in there."

"Well, maybe you do, but some other towns don't."

"It's dumb to lock up a room, have it sitting there not being used for most of the year."

"I just do what they tell me." He sat down on the floor and leaned against the wall.

She sat down next to him, taking out-a small package from one pocket and a covered cup from another. "I brought you some carrot sticks and a sandwich and some tea. "She handed him the package and set the cup on the floor, waiting for it to heat the tea. Chen unwrapped his food while she shrugged out of her coat. "You don't have to worry about Constance pestering you for a while. A man she knows came by just before lunch today, and he'll come back later tonight."

"Good." He bit into the bean sandwich.

"You ought to spend at least a night or two with one of the others. I mean, it's making me look selfish."

He clutched her arm with his free hand; his eyes seemed to bore through her. "Is that what you want?"

She shook her head.

"Then forget it."

"It's just that it's harder for everybody in the winter. There aren't as many men to choose from."

"I love you, Iris. When you love somebody, you don't want anyone else."

She averted her eyes. "I know. I feel the same way. But it doesn't last."

"Sometimes it does."

"It never does. It didn't last with that woman you knew on the Islands."

"It might have, if we could have stayed together. I don't know. Maybe I didn't love her as much as I thought I did. It's different with you. I can tell you things I couldn't tell her."

She clenched her fists. "You'll leave Lincoln, and we'll both forget."

"You don't want me to leave."

"It doesn't matter," she cried. "Even if you stayed, it'd be over after a while."

He put his arm around her; she leaned against him, resting her cheek on the soft flannel cloth of his gray shirt. "I could come back between jobs," he said. "I could stay at your house with you."

Her longing for him frightened her; she could hardly believe that she wanted him so much. "People would talk if you did that very often," she said. "Not that I care," she added hastily. "But you'd have to spend more of your credit here instead of staying at a hostel for nothing. That doesn't make sense."

"Other men come back here to visit."

"But they have relatives or children, and they only come by once or twice a year at most."

"I'd have you to visit."

"You couldn't come just to see me, Chen. It'd look strange if you didn't go to other women's rooms. Anyway, it would only be until you went back to the Islands." She was silent for a moment, not wanting to dwell on that unhappy possibility.

He patted her head. "You combed out your hair."

She lifted her head. "Do you like it better down?"

"I like it any way you want to wear it. The light in here makes it look a little redder in places—sort of reddish-brown."

"Angharad doesn't like it pinned up." She sighed. "She talked to me this morning. I'd better tell you what she said before she starts dropping hints in front of you. She thinks I should have a child, maybe your child. I tried to tell her that I didn't want one now, that maybe you didn't, either." That sounded too harsh. "It isn't that I wouldn't like your child, it's just—"

"I know." Chen sipped his tea. "You're kind of young to have one, even for a Plainswoman, aren't you?"

"Not that young. My mother was pregnant with me when she was about my age. Besides, our line—" She swallowed.

Chen set his cup down. "I'd give you one if you wanted, and if I thought—I mean, I want you with me. I'd want the child with me too." He stroked her hair. "There has to be a way." His fingers dug into her arms. "Maybe there is."

"How?" She knew that she should not be asking, that she should be trying to talk him out of such madness.

"I can carve. Angharad's been telling me for the past week that other women in town want them, my carvings. That could pay for anything I have to spend here later. I could stay with you and the child then, whenever—"

She shook off his arms. "You fool. You'd still leave eventually, especially if you get a chance to go back to the Project. With a child, I'd never leave. Is that what you want?" She glared at him, wondering why she had ever thought that he was unlike other men.

"Don't you see? If we had a child, then, when the time came for me to go back to the Islands, you both could come along. They like having families there—it gives people something to work for." His eyes narrowed. "You've taken enough lessons to be trained for a job of some sort there. They'd have to let you come."

"Families. My family's here."

"I mean we could be bondmates, with a child. We could have a bond. You wouldn't be just a woman who had my child, you'd be my bondmate. They respect such contracts on the Islands. And you care about the Project—they need that. If we had a bond—"

She jumped to her feet, horrified. "Never. Not a bond. You must be mad."

Chen stood up, grabbing her arms. "Listen to me. A bond with me, and a child—it's your way out." He shook her. "I love you. You don't know what a risk I'm taking just to think of such a thing. Do you think you'd be the only one taking a chance?"

"A bond," she said, struggling for breath. "You must know how impossible that is. Angharad would die. She might even throw me out of the commune. What would I do then?"

"It's our chance. Don't you see? At least we can try. I thought you cared about the Project, that you were like me, that you wanted that. Maybe it was only talk."

"Oh, Chen. You know it wasn't."

"You love me," he said. "I know you do."

"Not like that."

He pulled her toward him. "You do. Look at me and tell me you'd let me leave and you'd forget me."

She opened her mouth; an invisible band around her throat was blocking her words. She couldn't say it. Mary, help me, she thought. I'd make the pledge to keep him, I'd make it to get away from here and have what I want. He's the only one who knows me, who has the same dream I do—I can't lose him now, or I'll never get out. Her vision blurred; she felt as though she were about to faint.

"You'd come to love me that way," he said. "At least give it a chance. Bonds can be broken later, they can lapse. And it's a chance for you to have what you want. You may not get another one."

She buried her head against his shirt, trying not to cry, knowing that she would agree.

Twelve

"You fool," Nancy Fassi said.

Chen gazed steadily at the small image. He imagined himself reaching into the screen and crushing the woman's tiny head. He had left Angharad's house after supper, telling the women that he had a task to complete at the town hall before he slept; he would not have dared to make this particular call from the house.

"I know these Plainsfolk," the Linker went on. "They almost never take bondmates, and the few who do are the objects of scorn. You'll draw attention, and that's exactly what we don't want."

"I love her," Chen said.

"You love her." Nancy sneered. "Idiot. I'd pull you out of there now if it wouldn't cause even more talk."

"I want her, and we're going to have a child. Listen to me. I have even more reason to keep silent now, to protect Iris. I'll do my work and come back here during my time off when I can, but I won't say anything to anyone. Don't you see? It isn't just my life you hold now, it's Iris's as well."

"You surprise me, Chen." Nancy rested her chin on one hand. "And just how much have you told this young woman?"

"Nothing. She doesn't know anything. I don't want her to know why I was sent here. She might turn away from me if she did, and if she told anyone else, I'd be in danger."

"True enough." The woman was silent for a moment, apparently listening to her Link. "This Iris Angharads—she seems clever, according to her records. She might be able to learn more about you than you realize." She paused. "Why not let her have the child without a bond?"

"You can guess."

Nancy showed her teeth. "You want to take her with you to the Project. Well." Her fingers drummed against her desk. "You're smarter and greedier than I thought. I can't stop you without jeopardizing this entire enterprise. We'd have to have another worker to take your place, and my colleagues would certainly call my judgment into question then." She bit her lip. "Just what do you intend to do if the girl's mother disinherits her? She can't travel with you on your jobs."

Chen was silent.

"You son of a bitch. You think we'd have to send you both back to the Islands then, don't you? Well, you're wrong. We won't do a thing for you if you don't fulfill your responsibilities to us."

"Angharad Julias won't disinherit her daughter, whatever she thinks. She has her position here to protect, and her line. She'll want to keep the whole matter as quiet as possible."

Nancy's dark eyes had a cold, hard look; he imagined that her Link was barely keeping her rage under control. "And you know I'm powerless to stop you without putting myself at risk—why, I'll have to help you get what you want, just to keep you happily doing what we want." She let out a breath. "Do what you want, and be damned."

The image winked out. Chen pressed a key under the screen, erasing the record of the conversation. He had made the call from the locked Counselor's room, and the Counselor was not likely to check records of calls made during the winter, but it was best to be cautious.

He stood up, rubbing his temples. His heart was racing; his neck was stiff with tension. He could still turn back; he could tell Nancy that he had changed his mind. But she was already angry with him; changing his mind now would not alter that fact. He had spoken with more confidence than he felt. If he were wrong about Angharad, and Iris was disinherited, the woman he loved would soon learn to hate him for what he had brought her. But if he were right—

I love you, he thought, seeing Iris's face and then remembering the darkness at the edge of the Island he had left. I love you, and you'll never know how much. He could no longer imagine a life on the Islands without her; he could not reach for his dream while denying it to the young woman who shared it with him. The dream would be poisoned for him. Perhaps, he thought grimly, it was poisoned already. He stared at his hands, thinking of the device they had installed in the nearby door.

He might be bringing only pain to Iris. Guilt stabbed him. He shook off the feeling. She had chosen to take the risk. She had agreed to a bond, and he knew what that must have cost her.

Their bodies were still. Iris curled up at Chen's side, her arm around his waist, sure that a child had already been started inside her.

They had gone to Letty Charlottes the day before. The physician had removed their contraceptive implants from their arms after doing a genetic scan and finding no potential problems there. Letty had explained the scan to them both, had gestured at the specks and swirls on the screen with one slender finger as she spoke of a few possible gene transplants that might be necessary if the embryo carried certain traits. She had praised both Iris and Chen for their health, almost as if they, rather than centuries of genetic tinkering, were responsible for it.

The talk at supper had been bawdy and cheerful; Angharad had laughed when the others began to call her "grandmother." Only Julia had seemed somber. Iris was sure that her grandmother believed that she was throwing her life away, that she had given up her dream of travel and more study.

Iris shivered. Chen stirred; she clung to him more tightly. They would wait until they knew she was pregnant, and then they would speak to Angharad when it was too late for protests.

I'm going to do this, she thought. I'm going against everything I've been taught, my studies were nothing compared to this. Angharad would call a bond enslavement. But Mary had a bond with a man, didn't She? Once, the church taught that we should all have bonds or else should live as priests do. Other people have bonds; they think we're strange for not wedding others. Angharad thinks the Plains are the world, and they're not.