Earthfall (Homecoming)

by Orson Scott Card

  “Hushidh already asked me this years ago,” said Shedemei. “I thought she would have told you.”

  “She didn’t,” said Luet.

  “Issib’s problem is not genetic. It was prenatal trauma.” Shedemei looked at Rasa. “I imagine Aunt Rasa didn’t know she was pregnant when it happened.”

  Rasa shook her head. No one asked her what it was that she had, in all innocence, done to Issib in the womb.

  “It won’t be passed on in your children’s genes,” said Shedemei. “You can marry your children off to your heart’s content. If that means you’ll be leaving my children alone now, I’ll be very thankful.”

  “We weren’t planning anything!” cried Luet, outraged.

  “I believe that Nafai wasn’t,” said Shedemei, “because he discussed it with us all at once.”

  “I wasn’t going to do it either!” insisted Luet.

  “I think you were,” said Shedemei. “I think you still intend to.” She turned and left the room, Zdorab following nervously behind her.

  In the corridor outside, Zdorab found Elemak waiting. Letting Shedemei stalk on ahead, Zdorab and Elemak fell in beside each other. “So you were very subtle about it, I see,” said Elemak.

  Zdorab looked up at him and smiled. “I was certainly clumsy, wasn’t I? The Oversoul found my wake-up signal right away.” Then he winked and walked faster, leaving Elemak behind. Elemak walked slowly, thinking. Then he smiled slightly and turned down the corridor leading to his family’s rooms.

  Back in the kitchen, only Volemak and Rasa remained with Nafai and Luet. “You’re being foolish,” said Volemak. “You must do what the Oversoul commands.”

  “What the Oversoul commands,” said Luet, “is for us to concede that our colony will be permanently split into two irreconcilable factions, and to act in such a way as to make the rift so deep it will last for generations.”

  “Then do it,” said Volemak.

  “This discussion is pointless,” said Nafai. “Isn’t it, Mother?” Rasa sighed. “There are things that no decent person will do,” she said. “Even for the Oversoul.”

  “There are larger issues,” said Volemak.

  “I have these three last children,” said Rasa. “Oykib, Yasai, and my little precious daughter. I would hate forever anyone who took them away from me. Even you.” She looked from Nafai to Luet. “Or you.” And then she looked at her husband. “Or you.” She stood up and left the room.

  Volemak sighed and rose to his feet. “You’ll see,” he said. “The Oversoul isn’t to be flouted.”

  “Somewhere along in here,” said Nafai, “the Oversoul has to take into account our feelings.”

  But Volemak didn’t stay to hear him finish his sentence.

  Luet put her arms around Nafai and held him. “I should have told you before,” she said. “But I was afraid you’d just do whatever the Oversoul told you.”

  “The Oversoul knows me better than you do, apparently,” said Nafai. “That’s why he didn’t tell me at all.”

  “Come to bed, husband,” said Luet.

  “I have some work to do,” he said.

  “So we leave a day later,” she said.

  “I have some work to do.”

  She sighed, kissed him, and left.

  Nafai cut himself a slice of bread, wrapped it around a slightly overripe podoroshny, and bit off chunks of it as he left the maintenance building and walked back to the starship.

 

  I think so, answered Nafai silently.

 

  You never did.

 

  It was never a discussion. It won’t happen.

 

  You can’t see the future.

 

  He won’t punish children for what their parents do.

 

  It won’t happen.

 

  And I’m telling you again, for the thousandth time, that I will not even consider it without their parents’ consent. And I will not lift a finger to persuade them. In fact, I’ll argue against it.

 

  Nafai shook his head. They’ll never agree to it, he said silently.

 

  Four

  Persuasion

  Shedemei checked the children again. The third time that night. When she came back to bed, Zdorab was awake.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I had a dream.”

  “A nightmare, you mean,” he said.

  For a moment she misunderstood. “Did you have it too?”

  “No,” he answered, faintly disgusted. “Was it one of those?”

  “No, no,” she said. “Not from the Keeper of Earth, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “Bats and weasels.”

  “Giant rats. I don’t really have those. I dream of gardens when it’s that kind of dream.”

  “But that’s not what you dreamed tonight.”

  She shook her head.

  “And you’re not going to tell me.”

  “If you want, I will.”

  He waited.

  “Zdorab, I kept seeing…us, arriving on Earth. All of us coming out of the ship. You and me, unchanged, just as we are now. But then I saw this fine young man and young woman that I had never known before. He was handsome and bright-faced, cheerful and strong. She was dark but her smile was dazzling, and she laughed and there was such intelligence in her eyes.”

  “And he was eighteen and she was sixteen.” His voice sounded sour.

  “Royka and Dabya are the only children I’m ever going to have,” she said.

  “Are you going to accuse me because of that? After all these years?”

  “I’m not accusing anyone. I’m just…I went to look at them. To make sure they were all right. To make sure they weren’t…having the same dream.”

  “And how did you know they weren’t? Did you waken them and ask?”

  “I don’t know what they’re dreaming. I only know that they’re so young. And I’m looking forward so much to what they’ll be. To next week and next month and next year and…but then I also saw that….”

  “What?” asked Zdorab.

  “I remembered how they were. The little babies they were. When they suckled. When they first walked. When they first spoke, when they first played, when they first learned to read and write, I remember everything, and those children are gone.”

  “Not gone, just grown.”

  “Grown, I know, but each age of them, that goes. You lose those years no matter what you do. They grow past them, they push their own childhood out of the way, they don’t thank you for remembering it.”

  Zdorab shook his head. “I’ve seen how this overgrown computer works on people, Shedemei. You know you don’t want to give your children to Nafai and Luet to raise. They’re children themselves.”

  “I know I don’t want to. But what’s best for them? What’s best for all of them? People have given their children to war. They’ve given their children to great acts of heroism.”

  “And when they’ve lost them, they’ve grieved and never stopped grieving.”

  “But don’t you see? We won’t lose them. It will be as if…as if we sent them away to school. People did it all the time in Basilica. Sent their children to someone else’s house to be raised. If we’d stayed there, I would have done it too. They would already be gone, both of them. All we’d really be missing is the holidays.”

  Zdorab raised himself on his elbow. “As you s
ay, Shedemei, these are our only two children. I never thought I’d have any. I did it only as a favor to you, because you’re my…friend. And you wanted them so much. And if you had asked me back then, when they were conceived, whether you could give them up, I would have said, Fine, whatever you want, they’re yours. But they’re not just yours now. I fathered them, incredible as that is to me, and I have taught them and cared for them and loved them and I’ll tell you something. I don’t want to lose a day with them.”

  She shook her head. “Neither do I.”

  “So forget these dreams, Shedya. Let the big computer in the sky plan what it wants to plan. We aren’t part of it.”

  She lay back down in the bed beside him. “Oh, I’m part of it, all right.”

  “And how is that?” he asked.

  She took his hand and held it. “That nonsense I said. About genes. Recessive ones expressing themselves, all that.”

  The bed shook. Zdorab was laughing.

  “It’s not funny.”

  “None of it was true?”

  “I have no idea if it’s true or not. They know I’m an expert in genetics, they think I know what I’m talking about. But I don’t. Nobody does. I mean, we can catalogue the genomes, but most of each genetic molecule is still undeciphered. They used to believe that it was junk, meaningless. But it isn’t. That much I’ve learned from working with plants. It’s all just…quiet. Waiting. Who knows what will show up if they let those cousins marry each other?”

  Zdorab laughed some more.

  “It isn’t funny,” said Shedemei. “I really should tell them the truth.”

  “No,” said Zdorab. “What you told them made it so they won’t feel any need to include our children with theirs in any experiment they decide to perform. Fine. That’s how it should be.”

  “But look at Issib.”

  “What, was his condition genetic after all?”

  “No, that part was true enough. But how he’s suffered, Zodya. It’s not right to let other children go through that, other parents, I can’t….”

  Zdorab sighed. “You pretend to be hard-nosed, Shedya, but you’re soft as cheese on a summer day.”

  “Thanks for choosing such a foul-smelling analogy.”

  “Shedya, if what you said wasn’t true, how did you think of it?”

  “I don’t know. The words just came to my mouth. Because I needed something to say to turn them away from our children.”

  “That’s right. Now, the Oversoul is perfectly capable of telling them things, right?”

  “Constantly.”

  “So let the Oversoul tell them not to let their children intermarry.”

  Shedemei thought about that for a moment. “I never thought of that,” she said. “I’m not one of those people who ‘leaves things up to the Oversoul.’”

  “And besides,” said Zdorab. “How do you know the Oversoul didn’t put the words into your mouth?”

  “Oh, don’t be so—”

  “I’m quite serious. You said the words just came to you. How do you know it wasn’t from the Oversoul? How do you know that it wasn’t true?”

  “Well, I don’t know.”

  “There you are. You don’t need to say anything to them about anything.”

  She had no answer to that. He was right.

  They lay there in silence for a long time. She thought he was asleep. Then he spoke, a whisper just on the edge of voice. “We aren’t just a man with children and a woman with children, sharing the same house, sharing the same children. Are we?”

  “No, not just that,” said Shedemei.

  “I mean, how much does a husband have to desire his wife, sexually, for his feelings toward her to be love?”

  She felt her way carefully toward an answer. “I don’t know if the feelings have to be sexual at all,” she said.

  “Because I admire you so much. And the way you are with Rokya and Dabya, I…delight in that. And the way you teach them, all the children. And the way you are with…with me. The way you’re so kind to me.”

  “And what else would I do? Beat you? Scream at you? You’re the most aggravatingly unannoying man I’ve ever known. You don’t do anything wrong.”

  “Except that I don’t satisfy you.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t complain.”

  “But I do love you. Like a sister. A friend. More than either of those, like a….”

  “Like a wife,” said Shedemei.

  “Yes,” said Zdorab. “Like that.”

  “And I love you as my husband, Zdorab. As you are. Like that.” She rolled over, reached for him, kissed his cheek. “Like that,” she said again. Then she rolled back onto her other side, her back to him, and soon enough she was asleep.

  The dreams came, night after night, those last weeks before the starship Basilica was launched. And toward the end, one by one, the dreamers came to him.

  Hushidh was first, telling him that the Oversoul was right, that the breach between him and Elemak would never be healed, so he had to be ready. “Don’t keep your promise, either,” she said. “Don’t wake anybody up in midvoyage. It would be a disaster, when we’re all confined in that tiny space together.”

  “Thanks for the suggestion,” Nafai said.

  “Ignore me if you want,” said Hushidh. “You’re the one with the cloak, after all.”

  “Don’t snipe at me,” said Nafai. “You’re Luet’s older sister, not mine.”

  “And we all know what fine specimens your older sisters are.”

  They both burst out laughing.

  “Tell Luet for me,” said Hushidh, “that once I made up my mind to obey the Oversoul and give my four oldest to you to raise during the voyage, I found that the bonds between Luet and me returned, as strong as ever. The barrier might have been her fault when it began. But it was my fault it wasn’t healed till now.”

  “I’ll tell her that,” said Nafai. “But better if you tell her yourself.”

  “I knew you’d say that,” said Hushidh. “That’s why I hate you.” She kissed his cheek and left.

  Then Rasa and Volemak came to him together. “It was selfish of us to want to withhold our sons from you. They were born late,” said Rasa. “This will be a way for them to catch up with their older brothers.”

  Volemak smiled thinly. “I’m not so interested in that as Rasa is. As usual, she thinks of people’s feelings more than I do. I just remember all that we’ve given up to get this far, and how stupid it would be for us to repudiate the Oversoul now. There’s such a thing as trust, Nafai. Don’t risk the survival of the whole colony, particularly of your own family, solely in order to protect your own image of yourself as a man who always does the ‘right’ thing.”

  Nafai listened to his father but found no comfort in his words. “I lost that image of myself when I cut Gaballufix’s head from his shoulders, Father. I’ve regretted that every day of my life since then. Foolish of me, wasn’t it, to want to spare myself another source of guilt.”

  Volemak fell silent then, but Rasa did not. “Wallowing a bit, are we?” she said. “Well, Nafai, you’re still young, so you still think the whole universe revolves around you. But the fact is it doesn’t. The Oversoul has persuaded us that it’s best if our youngest sons are kept awake for the voyage. Now it’s up to you to decide if you have the courage to face down Elemak’s anger when it’s all done.”

  “And it doesn’t matter to you that I gave him—that I gave everyone—my word that I wouldn’t do this?”

  “I am your father,” said Volemak, “and Rasa is your mother. We release you from your oath.”

  “I’m sure Elemak will calm right down when he hears that.”

  Rasa laughed lightly. “Come now, Nafai. Elemak is the one person out of this whole community who has never believed for a moment that you would keep your word. And do you know why he doesn’t believe it? Because he knows that if the situation were reversed, he would break that promise in an instant.”

  “But I’m not Elemak.
”

  “Yes you are,” said Volemak. “You are exactly what Elemak would have been, except he never had the goodness of heart.”

  Nafai wasn’t sure if he had been praised or slapped.

  After Hushidh, after Father and Mother, Issib came, bringing with him, as usual, not just the dreams the Oversoul had given him, but also ideas to make things work better.

  “We need to talk,” Issib said.

  Nafai nodded.

  “I keep having these dreams.”

  “The Oversoul,” said Nafai. “I know, I have them too.”

  “Not the same ones, Nyef,” said Issib. “I see my oldest boy, Xodhya, as he comes out of the starship—”

  “As I see Zhyat—”

  “And he looks just like me. Which is silly, because there’s so much of his mother’s face in his, but in my dream, he’s me. Except he’s tall and strong, his arms, his chest—like a god. Like one of those statues around the old orchestra.”

  “Of course. The Oversoul is just manipulating you, Issib.”

  “Yes, I know that,” said Issib. “I was with you when we first withstood him, don’t you remember? We did it together.”

  “I haven’t forgotten.”

  “We proved that we didn’t have to do what the Oversoul wanted, didn’t we, Nafai? But then we decided to help the Oversoul because we wanted to. Because we agreed with what he was trying to accomplish.”

  “And as long as I agreed, I’ve cooperated. At great cost, too, I might add.”

  “Cost? You? With the cloak of the starmaster?”

  “I’d trade the cloak in a minute to know that my brothers loved me.”

  “I love you, Nyef. Have you ever doubted that?”

  “No, I didn’t mean—”

  “And Okya and Yaya love you. Are they not your brothers? Am I not your brother?”

  “All of you are.”

  “And I don’t really think you give a rat’s ass whether Meb likes you or not.”

  “All right, Elemak. I’d trade the starmaster’s cloak for Elemak’s respect if I thought I could ever have it.”

  “Don’t you see, Nyef? You can never have his respect.”

  “Because I’ll never be worthy of it.”