Venus of Dreams (63 page)

"No," Iris said almost without thinking.

"No?" Pavel frowned. "Has your courage failed you so quickly?"

"You don't understand, Linker Pavel. Your few dealings with Habbers have always been public. There would be talk if you were seen going to them yourself."

"I could disguise myself."

Iris nearly laughed. "On an Island where everyone's seen your face so many times, that would be difficult. I could go in your place. I have an excuse—I can say that I seek some news of my son, and then no one will wonder why I'm there. If they refuse me, and if after that anyone finds out why I went to them, you can say that I deceived you and went to the Habbers without your sanction. You could then punish me and still be free to try to convince the Mukhtars to save this Project."

Pavel straightened. "I never suspected that you had such devotion to me, Iris Angharads."

"It isn't devotion to you, Mukhtar. It's only that I've come to feel that the Project needs you even more now." Iris paused. "You know what I've done. I saw my son wound this enterprise with his actions. I swallowed my shame and remained here, partly because I believed my team might still need me, and I was right about that. Marc could make use of my mind and talents while being certain that I could no longer threaten his position. And you know I've been useful to you. I've helped, in my small way, to settle complaints or disputes that might otherwise have grown larger, and I asked nothing for myself. I won't have what I've done be for nothing. I must make up for my son. I'll plead with Habbers if I have to. I ask only that my bondmate be free from any blame for my actions if I fail. I do not want him to suffer because of me."

Amir seemed pained as she spoke of Chen. Pavel nodded. "I see," he said slowly, "that we may not have made quite as much use of your abilities as we might have." Before Iris could respond to this unexpected praise, Pavel held up his hand. "We had better discuss what you are to tell the Habbers here."

Iris strode quickly through the hall, but lingered on the steps of the Administrators' residence, worried about what might happen now. Pavel was gambling that, once the Habbers were here in larger numbers, Earth would find some way to accept the situation and that a crisis would be averted. Earth, however, might decide that the time had come to act forcefully, regardless of the consequences. If the Mukhtars saw control of the Project slipping from them, they might feel compelled to assert themselves. The Habbers, who had always avoided open conflict, might not be willing to stand against Earth then, but if they did—

She sighed. Even the Project might not be worth such a battle, which might free old instincts humanity had long held in check.

"Iris."

She turned. Amir had followed her outside. He offered her his arm; she accepted it only reluctantly. They descended the steps.

"You'd better wait before you go to them," he murmured. "If you go to their residence directly from here, after a meeting with Pavel, someone might wonder—"

"I have enough sense to know that."

"Forgive me for mentioning it, then."

They walked along the path, ignoring the few people who were sitting at the nearby tables. She unhooked her arm from Amir's. "I was certainly surprised to see you with Pavel," she said. "I hadn't realized that you two had grown so close."

"I asked to be there. He granted the favor."

"He knew what we might be discussing. You indicated that he'd shared some of his thoughts with you earlier. He must trust you a little."

"Pavel didn't draw me into his plans because we're close. Quite the contrary. He knew that if he could get my support for any risky action, another possible obstacle would be out of his way. Pavel is a wise man. He makes accomplices of possible opponents. Now, with you as an accomplice also, he'll be sure that I'll do my best to help him succeed in his plans."

"And why does he assume that?" Iris asked.

"Because he knows that I won't want you exposed to the consequences if we fail. Because he knows that I still care about you."

She halted near a shrub, afraid to look up at him. "You picked an odd way to show that during our last encounter."

"I was angry, Iris. I spent my rage. I've tried to speak to you, but you always turned away from me. I've wanted to come to you, but there was your bondmate, and I couldn't—"

"I know you've tried. I thought you only wanted to apologize."

Amir folded his arms. "It seems we've both become persons of some influence again, in different ways, so I did assess your talents correctly. Perhaps this scheme will actually succeed, and Earth will give in. We might even make you a Linker after all, when all this is past."

She lifted her eyes to his face; his dark eyes seemed weary and pained. "You may not believe this," she said, "but I don't want to be a Linker. I have no ambitions any more."

"I'd heard such rumors about you. I thought it might only be a pose."

"I suppose that's what a Linker would think. Well, if this plan of Pavel's works, you'll be in a good position. Someday, you might even take Pavel's place. That must be a pleasant thought."

"Must you say such things to me now?"

Against her will, the emotion in his voice had moved her. "I'm sorry, Amir," she whispered. "I loved you enough to want to share my life with you, but that's over. I can't let Chen think that I might turn to you again, for he knows how I once felt. I can't mislead you by letting you think I might love you again."

"I ask only for your friendship," he replied. "I have no hopes for anything now. I agreed with Pavel only because I could see no alternative." Amir's arms fell to his sides. "I want to give you whatever help I can, but I think we're lost whatever we do. Earth won't forgive us so easily."

He turned and began to walk back to the ziggurat.

Iris went to the Habbers two days later.

She had spoken to Charles Eves. Without telling him of Pavel's actual decision, lest rumors spread and somehow find their way to ears on Earth, she had convinced him that the Administrator would take some action. Charles had seemed mollified by the fact that she had gone to the most powerful man here, and had promised to keep others calm, at least for a while. She wondered if Charles still had that power.

She crept out of her residence after dark and took a roundabout route along the paths to the Habber building. She had not even told Chen the details of her meeting with Pavel. It was better that Chen knew nothing. He would only worry, and might be drawn into Pavel's plans himself, if the Linker saw some use for him; she wanted Chen safe.

She had never entered the Habbers' residence before. She stared at the gray stones of the circular structure, gathered her strength, and approached the door. Two Guardians, a tall young man and a sullen young woman, stood outside the entrance.

As she came near, the female Guardian blocked her way. "What do you want here?"

"I would like to speak to the Habbers inside." Iris held out her arm, showing her wristband. "My name is Iris Angharads. You'd probably like to record that fact."

"And just why do you want to talk to them now?" the man asked.

"It's a personal matter." Iris swallowed. "My son was one of the pilots who fled to the Habs over a decade ago. I've heard nothing of him since. My thoughts have turned to him lately, and I'm hoping one of those inside can give me news of him."

"After all this time?" the woman said. "Why do you want to know about him now?"

"I was angry at what my son did. He had betrayed me, and everyone here, and I swore that I would put him out of my mind. I was also afraid to come here, to let anyone think that I might have sympathized with my son's actions." Iris looked down at her feet; speaking of Benzi made the pain of his betrayal seem fresh. "You know how the Project is going. More of us may be sent back to Earth, and this may be my only chance to speak to someone who can tell me of my son. It's not so easy to put aside the feelings a mother has for a child, even if the child has hurt her deeply. I only want to know that he's alive and well. Surely you can understand that."

Iris lifted her head. The woman's expression had softened; her blue eyes gazed at Iris sympathetically.

"If that's so," the young man said gently, "it might be wiser for you to keep your distance. Wouldn't want people wondering about your loyalties."

"I'll take that chance."

"I'll have to tell my commanding officer that you came here."

"I'm aware of that."

"It's not that they're such bad sorts, as individuals, I mean, but it's better to have as little to do with them as possible."

"I understand. Are you going to let me pass?"

The Guardians stepped aside. The door opened. She entered a bare, empty room and stood there for a few moments, not sure of where to go next until a wall at her right opened and revealed a dimly lit corridor. She entered the curving hallway, continuing to walk past several closed doors until one opened at her left.

Five Habbers were sitting inside the room. None of them looked up as she walked inside. The room's screen, which covered one wall, showed the stars of deep space.

A woman looked up at Iris. "I shall speak to you," she said. "What is it you seek?"

Iris sat down on a mat in front of the woman; the Habber's steady gaze made her uneasy. "My name is Iris Angharads," she said awkwardly.

"I know who you are." The woman folded her arms. Her long brown hair covered her chest; her only garment was a white loincloth, the same sort of clothing her companions were wearing. All of them were watching Iris now. One of the men had an African's dark skin, another was so pale that his skin seemed translucent. The two other women might have had Asian ancestry. All of them had the same contemplative, almost sorrowful, expression on their faces, the same dreamy eyes and downturned mouths, the same tilt of the head. "What is it you want, Iris Angharads?"

"I must ask something of you. A Linker, one of our Administrators, has sent me here." She swallowed, feeling uneasy. "We need your help again."

"We have always tried to help, but often our help has been refused."

"I didn't mean just your help," Iris responded. "We need more of your people here now, we need your tools. The Project is stalled. We have to build more domes, and we don't have the resources to do that ourselves. You've seen how slow our progress has been."

The Habber woman nodded. "An enterprise such as this must always be measured in centuries."

"Yes, but too many of our people have waited for the chance to be settlers. Earth doesn't understand how high their hopes have been in the years just past. Earth would rather wait some more instead of giving us what we need." Iris paused. "Pavel Gvishiani sent me here. If you'll agree to help us, he'll arrange for your people to come to the Islands."

"Ah, Pavel, the one called Mukhtar." The woman lowered her eyes. "He could not have asked us himself?" She lifted her head again. "He could not have spoken to us through his Link?"

"He doesn't want anyone else to know of his request yet, until he hears your answer. Someone might betray him to Earth before you can act."

"I see fear in your face," the Habber said, startling Iris. "You want us to call to our people for you, to speak for you, to have the people and resources you need sent here, and you don't even have Earth's agreement to this. Why should we do this? What will happen if Earth objects?"

"What can Earth do to you?"

The brown-haired woman smiled. "Those of us on this Island and those who would be brought here may not want to take the risk of finding out." She drew her brows together. "You sent most of our people away, and allow those few of us who are left to do nothing except observe. Your Linkers have often closed your cyberminds to us and share only enough with us to remain within the letter of our old agreement. Your people often scorn even the most innocuous gestures of friendship. Why should we help you now?"

Iris clasped her hands together. "The Project may be threatened. Our people are impatient. They want the new home that's been promised to them. If no progress is made soon—"

"We know what they think. We know that some may take rash actions. We could argue that all of this means only that we should depart from this place and leave you to face whatever comes. There is nothing in our old agreement that requires us to stay—it may be time to let it lapse."

Iris leaned forward. "If you help us, and we succeed, generations on Venus may be grateful to you. You might win some power and influence on a new world, and Earth might even have to bow to you at last. It would be your triumph, that Earth couldn't achieve its dream without you."

The woman's brown hair swayed as she shook her head. "You deal in subterfuge, and think of power and humiliation. You practice deception so often that you don't even know your own thoughts."

"Are you so different from us?" Iris burst out.

"Why, what a surprising question. You have just implied that we are human after all." The woman's pale eyes glistened, as if she were holding back tears. "We have almost forgotten how to hide our thoughts from one another, for our Links are often open to everything. We seek no power, for how can one have it on a world where all is shared and all needs and wants can be met? We pity those who grasp for power, for they are sieves that can never be filled, but you honor those who seize it. An illness pervades you, and makes you see health as a disease. It is as though you would rather have the delusions of a fever than the perceptions of an untroubled mind."

Iris bowed her head, afraid that the Habber would see too much of her anger. She saw again how easy it was to hate the Habbers, with their air of superiority and their apparent immunity to the more troubling emotions of people. Habbers lied and pretended, too proud to admit that their own people probably had as many flaws as anyone, knowing that others were not likely to discover the truth. They had seduced her son with their lies.

At last she raised her head. The woman's face had become even more mournful. Iris had expected to see a smirk, a glimmer of satisfaction at the wounding words the woman had uttered. Instead, the Habber was looking at Iris as if pleading silently with a friend for understanding.