Venus of Shadows

by Pamela Sargent

  “Yekaterina Osipova. I knew her in the camp. Kolya knew her, too.”

  “And was she—”

  “Katya and I were lovers, if that's what you want to know.” He lifted his head. “It was over even before I left the camp. She was only here waiting for her ship to be repaired before going on to al-Khwarizmi. We didn't talk long. Her brother Alexei Osipov is one of the new settlers here, and she wanted to see him.”

  Risa's eyes narrowed. “I hope you and he weren't close.”

  “We weren't.”

  “Just as well. His name's come up in a couple of complaints lately—fights, that sort of thing. We'd be better off without such people.”

  “Camps wear people down with waiting,” he said. “Maybe he just needs time to adjust.”

  “You can find excuses for anyone, can't you?”

  He did not feel like contradicting her. “Helder Arneld wants me to meet with his little group in a few days, when our youngest students have a couple of weeks off from school. His younger sister's still on the northern Bat, so he told me I could stay there for the three days we'll be meeting—it makes more sense than walking all that distance there from here every day. I thought Chimene might come with me.”

  “Have you promised her she could?” Risa asked.

  “I thought I'd ask you first.”

  “I'd rather she didn't, then. She might better spend the time doing her chores and helping in the greenhouse instead of traipsing around the southeast dome.”

  “Don't you think a change might be good for her?” He stood up and moved toward the bed as Risa got to her feet.

  “Sometimes,” she whispered, “I think you only stay with me because of her.”

  “That's ridiculous,” he said evenly, and covered her mouth with his before she could reply. His hands slipped under her shirt. He still had one way of reaching her and of pretending that everything was right between them. Her lips softened under his as she clutched at his back; he closed his eyes.

  Fourteen

  “You don't need a consultation,” Bettina said as Risa sat down on the examination table. “Your med-scan is perfectly normal, as I expected.” Risa said nothing. “Are you looking for a medical excuse not to run for the Council again?”

  Risa shook her head.

  “You and Malik are thinking of another child, then.”

  “I'd like one,” Risa admitted, “but I don't know if Malik does.”

  “Why not ask him?”

  Risa folded her arms and hunched forward. “Tina, I don't know what to do.”

  The physician settled back in her chair. Bettina, Risa thought, had probably guessed that her problem was not medical when Risa had asked to speak to her here. Grazie and Emilia would be of no help, Grazie would sympathize but was also likely to gossip; Risa had gained various nuggets of information from her in the past. Emilia assumed that almost everyone shared her even, placid temperament and would be surprised that Risa had a problem.

  “I haven't heard that kind of thing from you since you were a girl,” Bettina said. “What's wrong?”

  “It's Malik,” Risa responded. “That can't be much of a surprise.”

  “It is. You two seem to be more distant, but that's normal enough, and we always knew he was a different sort of man.”

  “I've tried not to be too obvious about my feelings.” Risa sighed. “We certainly can't have a Council member looking as if she's got troubles with her bondmate. I can't even talk to Noella—she'd probably say something to Theron, and then he'd try to give Malik some friendly advice, which wouldn't help.”

  “Is it that your feelings for him aren't as strong or have his cooled?”

  Risa stared at the pale green floor. “I feel the same way I always have. I love him, Tina, but he doesn't love me.”

  Bettina cleared her throat. “Has he said so? Does he fail you in bed? Is he cruel to you in some way I'm unaware of?”

  “No, it's nothing like that. He probably thinks I'm cruel to him. I say things before I can stop myself, words I know won't do any good.”

  “Why do you say them, then?” Bettina asked.

  “Because when I do, at least he looks at me and sees me—he knows I'm there. The rest of the time he closes himself off. It'd almost be better if he hated me, because then he'd be feeling something for me. Even when he makes love to me, he seems to be somewhere else, as if he's imagining another woman.” She thought of the night he had returned from the southeast dome. In the middle of their lovemaking, she had suddenly cupped his face in her hands, forcing him to gaze into her eyes; he had looked shocked, almost surprised to find her there.

  “Do you think his affections have strayed?”

  “I don't know,” Risa said. “If there were anyone in Oberg, I would have heard some gossip by now, and whatever happens on the Islands can't matter or he'd find excuses to go there more often. Anyway, he'd hardly risk actions that would make Chimene think less of him, and she's too young and possessive to understand anything like that.”

  “You sound almost as if you view the child as a rival.”

  “Maybe she is,” Risa muttered. “If he could find an excuse to leave and take her with him, he might. He thinks I'm too hard on her and that I don't love her enough. It isn't true, but if I left her upbringing entirely to him, he'd give her anything she wants so that she'd love him all the more.”

  “He's not a bad father—better than some.”

  “I know that,” Risa responded, “and I'm grateful, but I don't want him passing on his own failed hopes to her. He's tried to adjust, but he lost so much when he came here. I want him to be content with what he has now and to feel he has something to offer, but I always end up sounding as though I'm criticizing him. And Chimene's like him—she's beginning to think she was made for better things. I don't want her to be like that. I see the same look in their eyes sometimes—as if they both see me as somebody who's imprisoning them.”

  She had thought that speaking to Bettina might ease her mind, but the self-pitying words that imperfectly captured how she felt disgusted her. Her chest ached, and if she wasn't careful, she might cry; she had always loathed such sodden displays. She had made her choice; what Malik had given her should be enough.

  Bettina said, “What you need is another man.”

  Risa gaped at her, then laughed softly. “That sounds like something my grandmother Angharad would say, assuming I could ever explain this to her.” She wiped at her eyes. “You sound just like a Plainswoman now.”

  “There's some wisdom among Plainsfolk. It's easier when men and women come together in bed and live separate lives the rest of the time—it keeps you from muddling your life and confusing sex with your need for love.” Bettina smoothed back a few gray strands in her reddish hair. “But that isn't possible here, and your father's shown me that deeper attachments can exist.”

  “I have a bond,” Risa said. “I can't live like a Plainswoman.”

  “I'm not saying you should. Malik's awakened a need in you, one that you didn't feel before, one that grows. Now you believe he's the only man who can satisfy it, but that isn't so, and you should find that out. Surely you know of a few men who might make good bed-partners and who would be discreet. When you learn that one of them can satisfy you, too, you won't cling to Malik so much. You wouldn't have to demand what he might not be able to give. You could then see exactly what you can have from your bondmate—a deeper love, perhaps, or a lasting friendship, or a bond as parents of your child. You wouldn't confuse that with your other needs anymore.” Bettina shifted in her seat. “It's a pity that Malik wasn't younger when you met.”

  “I wonder if that would have made any difference.”

  “Why do you think your parents were able to love for so long?” Bettina said. “They met when they were very young, so they didn't have too many burdensome memories to hold them back from each other. Oh, they had their problems and their times apart—Iris was a Plainswoman—but when they were older, they had the memory of
that early love to bring them together again. They knew it was possible to reach out to each other and share themselves without restraint. That's why an early love is so important. It's why the most lasting bonds are often among those who come together when they're young, before they're hurt and scarred. Age doesn't bring wisdom in love, in spite of what some will tell you—only caution and a desire to protect yourself.”

  Bettina rested her narrow face against her hand. “Malik has too much of a past—his old life, his disappointments, his intellectual pride. Find what you need somewhere else. When you're not clutching at your bondmate so much, he may feel freer to offer you more. If he doesn't, you'll have something for yourself. Malik isn't the only one holding back, you know. You do the same—you always have.”

  “It's the way we have to live here, Tina. We can't just forget—”

  The door opened suddenly; Paul stepped into the room. “Sorry to interrupt,” he said, “but Istu Marnes is on the screen, and he wants to talk to Risa. He says it's important, but he won't say what it's about.”

  “Talk to him here.” Bettina rose and left the room with her son. Risa slid off the table, went to the small screen on the desk, and opened a channel.

  Istu Marnes's dark brown face appeared. “We have a problem,” he said quickly. “A woman's been killed.”

  “What?”

  “Murdered—or so it seems.”

  Risa sagged against the narrow desk. “It can't be. There must be some mistake.”

  “No mistake. The victim was Nora Toland. One of her housemates found her body at first light in the house's common room. Three men were seen leaving the house earlier. They're confined in the Administrative Center at the moment.”

  Risa leaned toward the screen. “But why—”

  “Nora's household called me after a physician told them nothing could be done for her. I took what steps I could and then called Jeannine. She'll be at your house soon. To save time, she'll fill you in on what I told her when you're both on your way to the main dome. We'll have to have a Council meeting now, with all of us present, and make it appear we're in control of this until we figure out what to do. Tell your team you won't be working today, but don't say exactly why—they'll find out soon enough.”

  Risa nodded, unable to speak.

  “I'll get hold of the other Council members. Get here as soon as you can.”

  * * * *

  Jeannine Loris had been one of the first settlers to move into Oberg's recently completed southwest dome. She and her daughter's family had disassembled their house in the main dome, left the stone foundation for another household to build upon, and moved to the newer dome, where, Jeannine claimed, there would be more space, at least for a while. That she would also be farther away from the new arrivals was an additional benefit.

  “I knew we'd have more trouble,” Jeannine muttered to Risa as they left Risa's house, “but I never expected this.”

  “Tell me what Istu told you.”

  The middle-aged woman lacked Istu's conciseness, but Risa had heard most of the story by the time they were inside the main dome. Nora Toland's body had been found, and her household had summoned Gupta Benares. The physician had determined that the cause of death was a severe blow to the head, an injury he might have been able to treat had the victim been taken to the infirmary immediately. One of Nora's housemates had called Istu, the Council member nearest to the house; by the time he arrived, neighbors were already gathering, at the scene. One neighbor, an engineer named Yakov Serba, had described the three he had seen leaving the house when he was returning home late from work.

  “You couldn't ask for a more reliable witness than Yakov Serba,” Jeannine said as they moved past the slender trees surrounding the Buddhist temple. “Everyone knows he'll be on the Council himself someday.”

  “Was he sure?” Risa asked. “The light would have been very dim.”

  “He was sure. The door opened while two of them were still inside, and there was plenty of light there. He saw enough of the third to see that he had blond hair. Anyway, he'd seen them all before because they'd come to Nora's house a couple of times. When he described them, the others in her household said they knew who the men were. No signs of any forced entry were found, so it seems Nora let the three inside.”

  To hear of a murder was bad enough; to think someone could die at the hands of those invited into her house made Risa shudder. She had been assuming that the men were intruders who had entered while everyone was asleep in order to steal, and that Nora might have surprised them in the act. Someone clever enough, with the right tools, could find a way to circumvent a palm-print lock or enter through a window, but the chance of being caught was great.

  Her security had rested in the knowledge that she could trust most of the people around her and that the few who engaged in misdeeds were almost always called to account. When they were not, it was only because their victims, for whatever reasons, refused to complain. A new evil had entered her world.

  “Istu finally convinced everyone to go about their business,” Jeannine continued, “which must have taken some doing, given the circumstances. He and Yakov, along with a few others, went with the household to the tents near the bay and found the three men.”

  “They were new settlers, then,” Risa murmured.

  “Did you expect anything else? Yakov identified them, and Nora's housemates confirmed that they'd come to the house before. They didn't deny that, but they insisted Nora was alive when they left. They're in the Administrative Center now, under guard. A few people in Ishtar volunteered for that job.”

  “Ishtar?”

  “Nora Toland's a member—was a member. One of her housemates said she'd been trying to interest the three men in the group. Maybe that's why she invited them in—probably thought she'd snag some new members. Why they killed her, I can't begin to guess.”

  “Maybe they didn't,” Risa said. “If they deny it, what proof do we have?”

  Jeannine halted in front of the white rectangular building that was used as a church. “Who else could have done it?”

  “I don't know, but—”

  Jeannine took her arm as they walked on. “We've got trouble enough, Risa—don't borrow more. It doesn't look as if anyone else came to that house, so you'd have to accuse the people who live there. You can't seriously believe—”

  “It isn't impossible. I've heard enough complaints about troubled households, and so have you. Unless we can prove—”

  The Administrative Center lay ahead, directly under the main dome's wide disk of light. The building's two wings were set at right angles to a central one-story structure that had served as a shelter after the dome had been erected. Risa recalled the day more than twenty years ago, when she and her father had first come to Oberg. They had been full of hope as they looked out over the empty grassy plain and low hills; Chen had told her this world would be safe from the evils of the old.

  Only a few people had gathered outside the Center, most of them in the blue garb of pilots and the red and black sash of Ishtar. They stared at her in silence as she and Jeannine approached the building. Evar was among them; his blue eyes gazed at her steadily.

  The two women went inside. Others were sitting on the floor of a large, empty room. Outside a door on Risa's left stood four young men in Ishtar's sash.

  The door directly opposite that one opened; Istu Marnes beckoned to Risa. This room was where the Oberg Council usually met on those occasions when they felt the need to discuss matters in person or to hold hearings. Istu did not speak until the door closed behind them. Alain al-Kadar and Curcio de la Cruz were seated behind a low table near one wall, a large screen to their right.

  “We're all here now,” Istu said as he ushered the two women to cushions, “and I've got some more information. Yakov and a few others searched the tent of the three we're holding, and found a spot where something had been buried. They dug it up. A large stone carving of a bear was there, along with a shirt. The carving h
ad been wiped, but traces of blood were found on both the stone and the shirt. Two housemates of Nora's identified the carving as one the dead woman owned, and then Yakov took it and the shirt to the infirmary. I just had a message from one of the physicians—the blood is Nora's. And there's something else.” Istu heaved a sigh. “Three bracelets were found in one man's pack. Seems those were Nora's, too.”

  Jeannine sat down and brushed back a lock of graying hair. “I guess we have proof,” she said. “What do we do now?”

  Curcio de la Cruz looked up. “There'll have to be a hearing. And then what? Do we give them a reprimand, or sessions with a Counselor? Do they make reparations? What kind of reparations would be enough for something like this? We never expected to hold a hearing for murderers.”

  Alain al-Kadar frowned at the pocket screen on the table in front of him. “Maybe they don't deserve a hearing.”

  Risa seated herself. “We'd better review everything Istu's discovered and look at the records of these three men. Then I think we should talk to them.” She still felt numb from the shock of hearing about this murder. “We have to find out exactly what kind of men they are.”

  * * * *

  The Council members were silent as the three men were led into the room, their hands behind their backs. Risa saw then that their wrists were bound. The four who had volunteered to guard them lingered at their sides.

  “No telling what they might do,” one of the guards said as he adjusted his red and black sash. “We thought it'd be wise to restrain them a little. Do you want us to stay?”

  “You might as well,” Risa replied, “although I doubt they'll make matters worse for themselves by threatening us.”

  The guards stepped back. Two of the accused were staring at the floor; the third gazed directly at Risa. She had expected to see fear and perhaps repentance, but his dark eyes gleamed with defiance. He was tall; she had to strain a bit to look up at his face. He had to be the one named Ciceron Davan, and his record was mixed at best. He had worked as a mechanic in one of Earth's ports before going to the camp outside Tashkent; he had also hired himself out as a guide to travelers. Chen, who had seen several of Earth's ports, had told her that such guides were often thieves who preyed on the unwary.