Venus of Dreams (68 page)

"Tell me."

"I'd see Lincoln, a new Lincoln, the way it should be, growing instead of dying. I'd see children able to reach for what they wanted instead of being held back. My line is going to end here, Chen. I won't be able to keep my promise to Angharad."

He pulled her over to the bed, then kissed her, tasting the wine on her lips. "I love you," he said. There were tiny lines around Iris's mouth and a speck of gray in the hair near her right temple; he had never noticed that before.

"I love you too. I finally love you the way you wanted me to."

Pavel had expected to win, but even he had been surprised at the vote. Fewer than ten percent of the Islanders had voted in favor of surrender. He had been wise to leave the decision to them; they had thus committed themselves to his course of action and could not blame him if anything went wrong.

The Bats, except for those who had volunteered to stay on, were already being evacuated. The people remaining there could hold out for at least another year, and if necessary would shut down the automatic flights of the scooper ships.

Pavel nodded absently to the Administrators who were leaving his room; Amir Azad was the last to depart. Amir had not seemed pleased by the vote, but then Amir thought that the Islanders could not win. Pavel would have to speak to him privately; he did not want Amir to infect others with defeatism. They would all have to keep their spirits high to endure the blockade and outlast Earth.

Pavel crossed the room and pulled out his bed from the wall. He would have only a few hours to rest and prepare his reply for Abdullah Heikal and the Mukhtars, who could have avoided this situation by giving Pavel the authority he needed. Now, he would force them to give it to him.

He stretched out on his bed, not bothering to remove his robe. He had no victory yet, only a stalemate that Earth would not tolerate indefinitely. He would have to anticipate Earth's next move, and find a way to counter it. He closed his Link as he prepared for sleep.

His door chimed; Pavel tried to ignore it. "Iris Angharads," the door announced. Pavel pressed his arm to his forehead as he waited for the woman to go away.

"Iris Angharads," the door said again. Pavel gritted his teeth.

"Tell her to go away," he called out.

"Iris Angharads asks to be admitted. She says it is important."

The woman was getting above herself; it appeared that he would have to throw Iris Angharads out of the residence personally. "Let her in, then."

Iris hurried into the room. Pavel raised himself up on one elbow. Her shirt was rumpled; her hair looked uncombed. She had always been tidier about her appearance before. He had sometimes wondered what Amir Azad had seen in her. She was reasonably intelligent, but not brilliant enough to be alluring; she was moderately pretty, but her features were a bit too coarse for true beauty.

"I must speak to you," she said as she sat down on the floor in front of him.

She had been of use to him before; he wondered what she wanted now. "I have an important message to prepare for the Mukhtars," he said evenly. "I need my rest. Unless you have something important to tell me, your message can wait."

"It can't wait. I must speak to you now, alone."

The grim look on her face made him sit up. "My Link is closed," he replied, "and we are by ourselves. Say what you have to say, and be quick about it."

"You won the vote."

"You came here to tell me what I know?"

She shook her head. "I came here to plead with you, Pavel. You're not thinking of the Project now. Maybe you were before, but now you're thinking of yourself."

He narrowed his eyes. "Are you deluded enough to think any of us will gain anything if we don't resist Earth? The Islanders chose this course."

"And you made sure they would. How carefully you chose your words. I came here to tell you to ignore that vote." She took a breath. "I came here to ask you to give yourself up to Earth."

"You fool. That would accomplish nothing. You saw how the vote went. Earth now has a demonstration of how deep our feelings run."

"I know that." She brushed back some of her tangled hair. "You've shown Earth that a blockade will be long and expensive, that we're willing to resist. Some of the Mukhtars may be looking for a way out of that action. If you give yourself up now, and take as much of the responsibility for the Islanders' actions on yourself as you can, the Mukhtars would have an excuse to reconsider their blockade, and they would have you to punish. After that, they might find a way to allow the Habbers to return that isn't too shameful. Give them a way to back out, Pavel. Give us a chance to save the Islands."

"I am giving us all a chance," he said. "It was you who told me that you believed the Project needed me. You helped to bring these events about."

"I knew we needed the Habbers. I believed you when you said Earth might not act. Now it has, and I see what must happen."

He said, "You give yourself a lot of credit, don't you?"

"I'm used to analyzing atmospheric models, Pavel. I'm used to revising my projections when a new factor has to be considered. I thought Earth might not act, but now it has. Earth can be given someone to punish, and thus an excuse to back down. Or, they can blockade us, and eventually we'll have to give in. You know we can't exist indefinitely without new supplies, and Earth knows it also. The Project would never be the same after that. The Mukhtars would forever keep it on a very short leash. The hopes people had for the new world would begin to die."

He struggled to control his annoyance. "There is another possible outcome," he muttered. "Earth might give in after we demonstrate our resistance. The Habbers might—"

"You cling to that. Your concern for yourself is blinding you. Give it up! You'll see how people will weaken when they see children grow sick because we won't have the medicines to treat them. You'll see how fearful we become when components we need fail, and we have no replacements. Do you have to destroy us all because you can't give up your power?"

"How easy it is for you to talk." Pavel got up and began to pace the room. "Easy enough to tell someone else to surrender himself."

"I came to tell you that I would surrender myself as well."

He turned to look at her, surprised.

"I helped bring this about, as you said. It might ease your own punishment a little if you can shift some of the blame to me. The Mukhtars will recall what my son did, and may find me a convenient scapegoat. At the very least, you would not have to face your punishment alone."

He went-to her side and stared down at her; she was gazing up at him steadily. "Do you imagine that they'll let two prisoners share a cell, or perhaps even a bed? For me, that might be punishment enough." He had wanted to wound her, but she seemed unaffected by his words. "At any rate, we don't require your sacrifice, or mine. Our course is set. I'll abide by the decision of the Islanders." His mouth twisted. "If you still feel you must give yourself up, and Earth will have you, then make your little gesture."

Iris lowered her eyes. "I would, if I thought it would do any good. But you know I'd be worthless to them without you. I'm simply not important enough. I doubt I could make the Mukhtars believe that I bent the whole Project to my will."

"Earth will give in, and you'll see I was right." He tried to lend conviction to the words.

"How you cling to your power, even with so small a chance of keeping it."

He was losing patience with her. "Go on, Iris. Spread your doubts to others, and I may decide that you should be restrained so that you don't discourage us all."

"Do you think you can frighten me with that?"

He wanted to kick her. "Get out of here. I'll try to forget this and remember only your good deeds and past help."

Iris flung out her arms. "Listen to me! Maybe you've been here so long that you underestimate the Mukhtars. The Project's your own little world, and others call you Mukhtar here. Now, you're ready to risk that world in the slight hope you'll be able to keep it. What makes you think that the Mukhtars, for whom the Project is a more distant concern, won't let it die to preserve their own positions?"

"The Project is too valuable to them for that." Pavel sat down on his bed. "There are those among the Mukhtars who are looking for a way to come to terms with us. They'll grow stronger in time."

"Not if you don't give them a way to back down." Iris paused. "Let me tell you a story, Pavel. I may be only another specialist, but I've seen something of how people in power act."

"Have you now? Has your short-lived dalliance with Amir Azad given you such insight?"

"This isn't a story about the Islands. It's about Earth. It's a story you don't know. I imagine few people do."

Pavel sighed as he rested his hands on his legs.

"I was so grateful when I was chosen for the Institute," Iris began. "Whatever doubts I might have had about the way things were, I was grateful for that chance, and willing to pay for it with my loyalty. Sometimes, I would hear of some unpleasantness in another part of the world, and of harsh steps the Mukhtars might have taken to quell it, but that wasn't my concern. It's odd how you can hear of hundreds of incidents, and feel little, and then have one small incident near you open your eyes."

"What are you talking about?" Pavel said impatiently.

"There was a boy in my household named Eric. He died, very young, of a stroke. I was at school at the time. I mourned him. In time, the pain faded."

"How sad," he said mockingly, trying to ignore a twinge of apprehension.

"I didn't learn the truth about Eric until about twelve years ago, on the day my son fled from the Islands, in fact." She bowed her head. "Eric didn't die of natural causes. He was killed—murdered. There were rumors that a Counselor had been attacked in another town. Our Counselor had been given some sort of secret device to protect himself in case anyone tried to attack him. I know that people capable of planning such a weapon, something that would make it seem Eric had died of a stroke, could have given a Counselor the means to protect himself without killing his assailant. But it was easier just to get rid of Eric and eliminate the problem."

Pavel was able to compose himself before she lifted her eyes to his face. His neck prickled. The woman was from the Plains of North America; he had noted that fact long ago without paying much attention to it.

"Eric couldn't have been much of a threat to anyone," Iris continued. "All he wanted was a life in Lincoln as a shopkeeper. But he made one mistake and lost his life. When I actually grasped what had truly happened to Eric, I couldn't believe that any Administrator could sanction such an act—not because of any scruples, but because it seemed so useless and risky. A Counselor had to use that weapon, a Counselor who had been trained to guide us and help us, a person who wouldn't have had such a post unless he was capable of some compassion. A Counselor would be the one sort of person most likely to suffer guilt over the deed, a person who might finally turn against those who had urged the weapon on him. The Nomarchies depend on Counselors and the trust others have in them, yet here were people in authority willing to gamble with and pervert that important institution, to take the chance they could keep such a weapon secret, in order to eliminate a few troublesome people. Imagine what might have happened if word had leaked out about that device. It would have become useless, but more important, the trust people have in their Counselors, the Mukhtars' most effective means of control, would have been destroyed."

Pavel swallowed. "I've never heard of such a device," he said carefully. "How is it you found out? Have you contacts in higher circles I know nothing about?"

"No," she replied. "My bondmate told me of it. It was he who installed the device in our Counselor's office. His reward for so doing was being given the chance to return to the Islands."

So two people here knew of such devices. Pavel's neck muscles tightened. He thought of inviting Iris and her bondmate to another meeting in his room, then dismissed the idea. One person dying suddenly could be explained, but two dying of the same cause in the same place would defy probability. His own device was useless to him even as a last resort if two people here knew of the existence of such weapons; they might tell their story to others and fuel suspicion.

"Chen's suffered much guilt over Eric, and so have I, since Chen told me of this. I'd thought Eric's death was unavoidable. When I learned the truth, I kept thinking that I might have been able to help Eric if I'd stayed in Lincoln, and kept him from bringing that fate upon himself."

"It's a very sad story," Pavel said, "but I don't see why—"

"Please, let me finish. After that, I spent some time checking records and statistics from the Plains, and I've found nothing that indicates any other such suspicious death for the past twenty years—there was no one dying of a stroke in a Counselor's room. I told Chen my findings, and convinced him and myself that someone in authority must have seen reason at last, and rid the Plains of such an evil. We mourned Eric once more, and put the incident behind us. We swore that we would tell no one of what we knew, and Chen had never told anyone else. We knew that speaking of it to anyone would serve no purpose and might only put us in danger."

"It serves no purpose to speak of it now." Pavel closed his eyes for a moment. "Why have you told me this?"

"Because I have no other way to convince you that you're making a mistake by not giving yourself up."

"And how can this sad tale convince me?"

"If you push Earth too far, they'll still win in the end, but their victory will cost them much. They won't take the chance of ever losing control of the Project again. Someone will recall the weapon our Counselor used, and might believe such things would be useful here to rid themselves of troublemakers slyly. If some were willing to use such a subterfuge against poor Eric, you can imagine what they might do to ensure future control of the Islands. But if you give yourself up, and allow Earth a small victory, wiser people may not feel the need to take such a secret and expensive action. Give the Mukhtars who might sympathize with us a chance to prevail. You've got to let them win something, and allow them to feel that the Project is still theirs in some way. Give them someone they can punish, and save the Islands."