Venus of Dreams (51 page)

Amir tilted his head. "You were thinking of your bondmate and child, not of your responsibility to the Project and to us."

"What would you have lost if we'd failed?" Chen asked. "An airship, a scooper, and a few people who could be replaced. If Earth didn't give you another scooper shuttle, you could have turned to the Habbers. Administrators have done that before. The Habbers could give you better ships, better control units, more—"

Amir stiffened. Iris signaled to Chen with narrowed eyes and a shake of her head. He had gone too far; he had reminded the Linker of how important the Habbers' help had been to the Project.

"The Habbers do nothing for us that we couldn't have done for ourselves eventually," Amir said in a low voice. "Their assistance has done no more than speed our progress. This is our Project, not theirs." He scowled. "I wouldn't speak so warmly of Habbers if I were you, Liang Chen. According to your record, you were a little too eager to seek out their company in the past. I was sure you had mended your ways, I was sure you had given that up, that you were grateful to be brought back here after your temporary exile from the Islands."

Chen shifted a little on his cushion, suddenly afraid that the Linker knew everything about him, even about his secret work in the Plains. He had not thought of that in a long time, had walled off his guilt; now, he remembered Eric and how he had died.

"Let's get to the point," Iris said. "Don't you think it's time to tell us why we were called here?"

"Don't be so impatient." Amir's mouth twisted; he seemed about to smile again. "What neither of you knows is that we were planning to ask those on the northern Bat to attempt the rescue that was carried out. You merely anticipated our orders. A bit embarrassing still for us, since you showed a lack of trust in our judgment by not waiting, but not the infraction it might have been."

Iris raised a brow. Chen was sure that the Linker was lying, but Amir and his colleagues could make everyone believe his statement was true. They might even convince themselves of its truth in time. Chen and Michael would no longer seem insubordinate and reckless, but only premature in their actions.

"Success," Amir went on, "should be rewarded, especially if it furthers all of our aims, don't you think? Please don't think badly of me for keeping you in suspense. I spoke up for you both in my meetings with other Administrators, but I had to see what you would have to say for yourselves. I think you've shown that we've made the right decision about you both."

Betha cleared her throat; Terrence sighed, looking relieved. Obviously Amir had not shared his intention with them. Chen was suddenly angry. The Linker had been toying with them; now, he probably expected their gratitude.

Amir straightened a sleeve of his white robe. "Iris, the Administrative Committee needs a liaison with those trained by the Cytherian Institute. I've felt we've needed one for some time—after all, you people were trained specifically for this Project rather than coming to it from other work. Even some of the members of the oldest families here are coming to see that you should be treated with more consideration. I think you should be our liaison. We'll listen to your suggestions and complaints. You'll be an administrative assistant, but with luck and persistence, you may become an Administrator yourself someday."

Iris seemed stunned; she lifted a hand to her face. "Administrators are always Linkers," she said tonelessly.

"So they are. But we can provide the training for your Link if you do well."

Iris's eyes widened; her cheeks grew pink. "I never thought—" She turned her head toward Chen. He tried to look pleased. His hopes were gone; he knew that he would lose her now. He bowed his head for a moment, ashamed of his selfishness.

"You'll remain here, of course," Amir was saying. "No need to send you to Island Eight, as Marc was recommending. You'll spend time on other Islands if a situation calls for that kind of attention. The rest of the time, you'll continue with your work in climatology. We must all continue in our various specialties here, needless to say. Frankly, your intuitive approach might be better suited to aiding the Administrative Committee. When dealing with people, one can't rely only on data and projections."

"Of course," Iris responded. "I'm grateful for your trust in me. Everyone from the Institute will be happy you're thinking of us." Her face was flushed with pride; her eyes had already taken on some of Amir's predatory gleam. Her face had a hard, fierce look Chen had rarely seen.

Amir's eyes met Chen's. "And, since we already have a Workers' Committee, it should be quite simple to add another to their number. I think you might do well in such a position."

Betha was beaming, as if his accomplishment were her own. Chen averted his eyes from his Counselor. "I can't," he said.

Amir let out his breath. "What do you mean, you can't? You showed some initiative. Clearly, that means you should be in a position where it can be used, so that you don't disrupt the Project. You won't have as much work to do, and you'll have a little more time for that hobby of yours I've heard about."

"It isn't that," Chen responded. "I wouldn't be a good person in that kind of post. Words are hard for me. I wouldn't be a good spokesperson for others." He could not say what he really felt, that the attention of those in power was a dangerous thing. Nancy Fassi had taught him that. His life would be even more open to their scrutiny, his actions to their manipulation. Those on the Workers' Committee were often distrusted by other workers; he would be separated from those like him without being fully accepted by anyone else. Even his carving would no longer be a pleasant and fulfilling pursuit; he would not be able to carve anyone in authority without being expected to speak up for the Workers' Committee and its interests.

"You were persuasive enough in speaking up for a rescue attempt," Amir said.

Chen waved his hands helplessly. "That was different. The only thing I want is just to go on with what I'm doing. I don't ask for anything more."

"He doesn't understand," Betha said quickly. "I'll consult with Chen. I'm sure he'll change his mind. He won't refuse your offer." Her pale eyes were wide with worry; the Linker, Chen realized, might begin to doubt how effective a Counselor Betha was if she did not succeed in bringing him around. Iris was frowning; even she seemed annoyed at his response. Once, she might have understood why he felt the way he did.

"I didn't mean to sound ungrateful," Chen muttered, hating the weak sound of his own voice.

"Well." Amir rose from his cushion in one fluid motion. "I imagine both of you want to speak to your Counselors now. I'll call on you in a day or two, if that's agreeable. I trust that you'll consider any decision carefully." He left the room before anyone could say a farewell.

"I'm glad Betha finally talked some sense into you," Iris said when they were back in her room. "I couldn't believe that you'd want to refuse such an opportunity."

"I still don't want it," Chen replied. "I don't like the Committee."

"What are you talking about? You don't have to like them, you just have to work with them. Do you like everybody at the Bat docks?"

"That isn't the same."

Iris let out her breath. "You'll be in a position to help some of your friends. Do you want to be just another worker forever?"

He sat down on her bed. "You didn't mind that once," he said quietly. "Now that you have a Link within your grasp, you must think a worker isn't a suitable bondmate for you."

"Oh, Chen. I'm thinking of what's best for you. You'll be more valuable to the Project now. You'll be able to get more of what you want for yourself."

Something in her voice made him think of Nancy Fassi. He leaned over and pulled out his bag from under the bed; his carving tools were already inside it. He stood up, opened a drawer from the wall, and began to pack his few clothes.

She said, "So you really are leaving."

"I said I would." He pulled out a shirt and then waited, wondering if she might still ask him to stay.

"Guess there's no point in putting it off," she said. She was sitting in one corner, next to the tiny desk top that held her band and small screen. Her shoulders slumped; a thick lock of brown hair hid her eyes. "You ought to check in over there before they decide to give your room to someone else." She was silent for a moment. "I'm sorry, Chen."

"Don't be sorry. It doesn't do any good."

"I thought at least you'd be happy for me. I never dreamed I'd have this chance."

"I'm happy for you, Iris." He closed his bag and slung it over his shoulder. "Well. What are you going to do now?"

She lifted her head. "I ought to check in with Marc." Her lips formed a half-smile. "He's going to be surprised, I think. And I'd better arrange a meeting with Amir Azad as soon as possible. He'll have to fill me in on exactly what he expects me to do." She patted her hair, as if already preening herself for the Linker.

"He's attractive."

"So he is," she said.

"Probably knows it too. Probably knows you know it."

She sighed. "He can help me. That's all I care about. I can be of more use here. I can't be distracted by idle feelings."

"I see." He rested his arm on his bag. "I promised Benzi I'd speak to him after the meeting with the Counselors. He'll be worrying about what they told us." He turned toward the door.

"Wait," she said. He looked back; she was standing. "I hadn't even thought—of course Benzi should be the first to hear the news. I'll come with you. We should tell him together."

Together, he thought bitterly as he opened the door.

Benzi was sitting on the lawn outside the entrance to the pilots' building. An auburn-haired woman was with him; as Chen came nearer, he noticed the cluster of circles on the woman's gray collar. As Benzi looked up at Chen and Iris, the Habber quickly got to her feet, nodded at them all, and hurried away.

"You shouldn't associate with those people," Iris said as she sat down.

"Another pilot and I are supposed to take her and some others to Island Four tomorrow. They have to consult with some engineers. I was only working out—"

"That doesn't mean you have to sit out here with her in full view of anyone who walks by."

"Ah, Mother." Benzi rested one arm against his knee. "You're back to normal, I see."

"I'm giving you good advice."

"So you are."

Chen sat down next to Iris. His bondmate and son's brush with death had hardened them both somehow; he had been a fool to think that they might grow closer again. Something in each of them had died on the surface of Venus, had been swallowed by the barren, harsh world outside their ship. He could almost imagine how it might have been for them as they waited for a rescue they were sure would never come; only the strength of their wills could have allowed them to hold out. Now, there was nothing left except that willfulness.

Benzi glanced at Chen's bag as Chen set it on the grass. "Just my things," Chen said quickly. "I have to take them back to my room."

"I see," his son said, looking disappointed for a moment. "What happened? What did they tell you?"

Iris brightened a little; her eyes were glowing again. "I have wonderful news. You won't believe it." She told him quickly about the meeting with the Counselors and Amir Azad; she was grinning broadly and combing back her hair with her fingers as she mentioned the possibility of becoming a Linker. Benzi's face tensed as she spoke; a look of pain crossed his face for an instant, startling Chen. What was wrong? Was his son also fearful of what Iris's new position might do to her?

"I was stunned," Iris finished. "A chance for a Link, and Chen on the Workers' Committee."

"I suppose that means Michael will have good news, too," Benzi said tonelessly, "maybe a bonus."

Iris frowned. "You could look happier about all this."

"I'm just surprised," Benzi responded. "I'm happy for you, but—" He paused. "Don't you see? You've shared the doubts others have about how this Project is going. Now, they're dangling a Link in front of you, and you're running after it. Pretty soon, you'll forget that you ever had any doubts."

"That's ridiculous. I'd be mad to turn it down. All these years, I did my best and didn't care if anyone else praised my work. It was enough just to be here and know that my work was of some small value. Now, I see that there's more I can do. To be a Linker—"

Benzi leaned forward. "If you were on one of the Habitats, a Link would be your right, not just a privilege for a few."

"Is this what comes of your talking to such people? I don't care what happens on Habs. It's mad to expect everyone to be able to use a Link."

"Some are better at Linking than others," Benzi said, "but all of them have a chance. Their Habs are—"

"You don't know what they are. You only see such folk here, where they can tell you whatever they like and hide whatever problems they have."

"They would share everything, all their knowledge, with us if we asked," Benzi replied. "Look at what they've done here, or for Earth. We could have drawn closer to the Habbers and benefited more from them, but then the Linkers and Mukhtars would have lost the power they now have."

Two pilots in blue were watching them from the entrance; Chen motioned to his son with his hands. "Please," he said. "Lower your voice when you say such things. Benzi, you should be more careful. Too much time spent with Habbers may bring you bad luck. You've forgotten what happened to me."

Benzi did not seem to be listening. "There's a rumor," he said, "a story that the Habber biologists may be close to finding or eliminating the mechanism that brings death. If they do, think of what that would mean." He lowered his eyes. "Earth would refuse such a gift even if the Habbers offered it. Linkers would rather have a century and a half with power than an indefinite lifespan without it."

"And what would we be then?" Iris asked. "I've heard those stories, I've even heard that Habbers have known how to evade death for some time, but I don't believe it. If it were true, they wouldn't expose themselves to danger here, they'd be too afraid of death. And how many could live such a long life without growing weary of it?"