Venus of Dreams (49 page)

"I know something about it," Chen said. "My bondmate's a climatologist. She told me some things." His heart raced a bit as he thought of Iris.

Michael leaned back and turned his sharp-featured lean face toward Chen. "Tell you one thing, Chen. If that ship's down, it's those ditherers on Earth who caused it. Costs more to keep them up to the best standard than to lose one once in a while—that's how they think, and how those dogs who call themselves Administrators think. I know Hong Te-yu. She wouldn't be in that fix with a good ship."

Chen glanced around the small enclosed space in which he and the pilot were sitting. A few empty seats with old, cracked cushioning were grouped behind them; a thick metallic wall shielded them from the area of the ship that usually carried the tanks of compressed oxygen. He gripped his armrests with his gloved hands. Several times, he had dreamed of landing on Venus; he had felt the atmosphere pressing down on him, and had awakened covered with sweat and gasping for air. He had imagined himself living under a dome, building the new world, but had avoided thinking too long about how he would have to get there, as if he might suddenly awake to find himself safely on the surface protected by a dome not unlike the one on Island Two. He had worried about the source of his fear and whether it might, in the end, bar him from the world he longed for.

Now, he was heading toward that surface, and realized that the fear was fading. His fear for Iris and Benzi, a greater terror, had driven it away. His jaw tightened. If he lost them, it would not matter that he had conquered this last obstacle; there would be nothing to hold him here.

"This isn't going to be like landing at the polar oxygen plant," Michael said. "Ship goes down, the hooks pull it inside—it doesn't have to sit out there for long. Our problem's a little different. We've got to set down, balance the pressure before we open our maw, and then we've got to wait until Te-yu can park herself close enough to roll inside or have the cargo loader hooks haul her in. If their sensors and screens are out, they won't even know if we're there, and their comm's gone, so nobody can tell them. Talk a lot, don't I. You know what I'm trying to get at."

"I think I do."

"We can't wait. If their ship doesn't move or give us some sign when we're down, I've got to pull out."

Chen swallowed hard. "I know."

"I always liked to gamble, I guess. Nobody could ever set up a dice game around me without pulling me in. Couldn't sit on what I had without wanting to try for more. Not the best qualities for a pilot, maybe. Well, I hope we win this one, but I'm not crazy about the stakes." He waved an arm at Chen. "Better get on your helmet—think we're just about ready for entry."

Sweat covered her face; her helmet seemed fogged. Iris moved a little in her seat and wondered how long she had been sitting there, but did not look at the cabin clock. The large screen was etched with long, thin scars; the acid in the smoggy, dense atmosphere outside had marked the ship's lenses. The scars were white. The light inside the ship flickered and dimmed a little. The screen, except for the hairline scars, was black. A small screen in front of Iris showed her Venus in harsh infrared—barren, rocky peaks, higher than the Himalayas.

This, she and her team had thought, would have been the most promising site for domed settlements. Here, in the northern latitudes, as well as in the south, the planet was cooling more rapidly than at the equator. A beam of light cut through the darkness on the screen; the cabin's outside light had come on again. It had been teasing them like that for a while now, dying and then shining again.

Her mouth tasted stale. Sometime earlier, Iris had thought of a way they might have been rescued, and then Te-yu had started speaking of the same plan aloud, as if reading Iris's thoughts. A scooper ship, one of the shuttles that moved between the Bats and the polar installations, might have been sent. A new automatic course could have been programmed in; a ship could have been here by now. Te-yu had played with the idea in her lilting voice, examining it, but had concluded that the ship, landing in this terrain instead of at the flatter areas around the installations, might run into difficulties. A pilot might have prevented that.

But there would be no pilot; there would not even be a ship. A scooper was worth more than an airship; that was how Linkers and Administrators thought. A scooper shuttle was worth more than an airship cabin and three insignificant lives. Iris remembered the Linker who had appeared on the screen in Angharad's common room, who had told Iris that she had been chosen. The Linkers had reached out for her, had moved her across a board in some elaborate, unseen game; now, it was time to remove her from the board, for the game was what mattered, the game that the Linkers played among themselves and the larger, more inpenetrable game they were playing with the Habbers.

Her mind was oddly calm. She could almost understand a Linker's point of view. They understood human history better than she did; they were haunted by the deadly games people had played in the past and had finally advanced beyond them. At least now, only a few pieces were sacrificed instead of armies; humankind's instincts could not be changed, but they could be subdued.

Iris saw what her own mistake had been. She had played a smaller game within the boundaries of the larger one, and had won it when she had left the Institute to come here. Then, instead of looking for a way into the larger game, she had contented herself with what she had; she had distracted herself with worries about Chen and Benzi, and now they would both lose as well. She had come to this new knowledge too late.

"I hate the Administrators," Benzi said. "I hate them even more than I did." His voice, over the suit's comm, was a rasp.

She said, "It doesn't do any good to hate them, or to love them, or to feel anything about them. It just makes you weaker."

On the black screen, a tiny flame flickered, reddening a patch of the heavy clouds. Iris tensed, sure that it was an illusion.

Then Te-yu said, "A ship. Look at the panels."

Iris sat up. Above a radar image representing the slope on which their cabin was sitting, a long streak was dropping toward the mountainside below.

"Mother of God," she whispered.

The ground shook, rocking them. "We're going to go over," Te-yu shouted. "I've got to back up."

"Don't," Benzi cried.

"No choice." Te-yu had already taken control of the steering mechanism; Iris heard a crunch. The cabin rolled sharply to the right.

They were falling down the slope; Iris clung to the straps of her harness helplessly as the cabin rolled over three more times, then stopped. They were now on their left side, resting on the edge of the cabin's left tread. Te-yu was cursing. She pulled at a switch; the cabin righted itself and began to rock wildly.

Not now, Iris thought, afraid that the ship would roll again. Please, Mary, not now.

She waited as the rocking slowed; at last the cabin was still.

The shuttle outside had landed. A white image of the scooper shimmered on one small screen; the maw in its belly was still closed. It had landed nearly a kilometer below them, and the image showed a few small, sharp ridges along the path Te-yu would have to take to reach it.

"Looks like we'll have to take a little drive," Te-yu said. "Let's hope that scoop opens. If it doesn't, and we're next to that ship when it takes off again, we're finished."

Iris barked a laugh. "That hardly matters now." The muscles in her neck were tight. "Mother of God, they actually decided to try a rescue. They actually did it." Her lungs swelled.

"We aren't there yet." Te-yu strained against her harness as she carefully pulled a switch; the cabin began to bounce forward. The outside light swept back and forth in a small arc. Something scraped against their belly; Te-yu veered a little to the right.

Iris's face burned. The suit pressing against her limbs felt warm. "Is it my imagination," she said slowly, "or is it getting a little on the warm side?"

"The cooling system," Benzi replied. "I think it's starting to break down."

Perhaps the shuttle outside had landed too late; maybe the cabin was already at its limits. Iris bit her lip. It was just a show at rescuing them, a way for the Administrators to soothe their consciences without taking any real chances. Land a shuttle, take it out of there again, say that you did your best.

She glanced at the small screen. The scoop in the ship's belly was beginning to open. The cabin swerved sharply, then rolled on jerkily down the slope. The outside light danced over a patch of silicate rocks and pebbles, then abruptly went out.

"Shit," Te-yu said. If they lost their sensors, they would be blind. Iris's suit was hot; she felt as though her hands were being seared inside her gloves. She wondered how Te-yu's suit was holding out, whether the pilot could still feel the controls under her hands.

The cabin lurched to a halt. The scoop was still opening. Te-yu pushed at the steering mechanism; the treads ground uselessly against rock.

"Don't," Benzi said. "You'll destroy the treads. Try to back up."

Te-yu did not move. Her gloved hands were up; her fingers were claws scratching at the air, but the rest of her body was still. Benzi leaned over his own controls and pulled a switch as he took over the cabin's steering mechanism. The treads reversed; the cabin moved back and again came to a stop.

Te-yu's hands dropped. "I'm all right," she said. "Guess the heat's getting to me. Never did like hot weather—always thought we could use a little snow in the Island environments." She paused. "Listen, you two. I have to push this piece of junk as hard as it'll go, it's the only way. We're probably only about two minutes away from being parboiled, if that. We have to get down to that scoop fast."

"You might lose control," Benzi said.

"I might. I'm going to gun this crate and steer. Benzi, you hit the brakes when you think you have to, but not too hard."

"I don't know if I—" Benzi broke off. His voice made Iris think of the boy he once had been.

"Come on, friend," Te-yu murmured. "You've taken a cabin through a bay into a repair area, haven't you? This isn't so different."

"Oh, no," Benzi replied, but his voice sounded steadier. "Not so different."

Te-yu pushed her switch; the treads whined. They were suddenly rolling forward, bouncing as they descended the hill. Iris tried to focus on one of the small screens; the cabin was bouncing so much that she felt as though her seat would tear away from the floor. The movement was blurring the images on the screens; Te-yu's helmeted head was a small black globe bobbing over the controls. A small image of the waiting maw below gaped at Iris as it grew larger; they were closing in on it. The cabin rocked, then bounced on.

The small screens flickered out. Benzi slapped down a hand; the cabin shuddered to a halt.

Te-yu's hands fluttered over her controls. "No sensors now," she said. "Can't even see where we are. We're completely blind."

Iris tried not to scream. She could imagine the panels and screens before her melting, the cabin around them flattening from the atmospheric pressure. "The scoop was right in front of us." Her voice seemed to be coming from far away. "We weren't more—we aren't more than ten meters from the ship, I'm sure," Iris went on. "We have to keep going."

Te-yu pushed at her switch. The cabin was still. Iris held her breath. Not now; why did the engine have to die now? Te-yu pushed the switch again. They rolled forward suddenly and bounced down the slope. Iris's heart was beating rapidly. Her face was wet with perspiration; the air inside her helmet was hot and moist. The engine whined; as the cabin rolled to a stop, the engine died and their remaining lights winked out.

They had done all that they could. Iris sat in the darkness and wondered if it were enough. How close had they come to the shuttle? Perhaps not close enough for the scooper's hooks to reach them.

This was what it would be like to die. She would sit in the blackness. There would be one long, wrenching moment when her body succumbed to death and then her soul would enter the void, where the darkness would be pressing in around her forever. She couldn't die now; she wasn't ready. Her will was still too strong.

Dimly, she heard a clank. Was she dreaming it, or were they being lifted? Iris swayed against her seat, waiting. The cabin was still. Benzi was whispering; she could not make out his words, and wondered if he was praying. His voice broke off.

"Benzi," she said aloud, and heard no response. "Benzi. Son, can you hear me?" Her suit comm was gone; the last link to the outside was now broken.

Her mind began to drift. She was floating away from the Islands, soaring back toward the blue globe that was Earth. Lincoln was not far away; her household had gathered in the courtyard to wait for her. They know, she thought; they've come to say good-bye to me.

Suddenly, a weight was pressing against her chest. She tensed; the ship was succumbing at last. She muttered a prayer; the weight grew heavier. Then she realized what was happening; the shuttle was taking off, and they were inside its scoop. She gulped a breath; the air was a bit cooler. She let out a cry. "Te-yu! Benzi!" The darkness flowed into her as she fell endlessly.

Iris stirred; she was awake again. She had floated up from her seat; something was pulling at her harness. She opened her eyes; someone was leaning over her and helping her out of the harness.

She blinked, then grabbed the arm held out to her. The helmeted figure led her to the open cabin door; ahead, she saw three other suited people crawling along the strut of a dock. Two were small, like her; the other was taller. Te-yu and Benzi, she thought, and someone else.

They entered the lock. Air cycled inside; another door opened; Iris squinted in the bright light. The room was filled with gray-garbed workers swaying weightlessly on the soles of their adhesive boots; as she removed her helmet, she heard them cheer. The sound washed over her as she gulped air; a man grabbed her helmet.

"They did it!" someone was shouting. "They did it!"