He paused. “Really, I'm surprised at you. But maybe it isn't just the meetings that attract you—maybe it's those rites of theirs. No doubt your brothers in Ishtar will be grateful for a chance at you, but I would have thought you could attract enough men to your bed without that.” He chuckled. “My Habber acquaintances will find this a choice topic for discussion—my daughter living in the Guide's household. Needless to say, they'll be too polite to laugh in my presence, but when they're by themselves—” Malik shrugged. “You must keep me informed of your doings, so that I have some choice tidbits to share. When you come to your senses and see how ludicrous it all is, we'll have a little celebration to mark your return to rationality.”
“One doesn't leave Ishtar,” she said.
“I suppose that's true. They take themselves so seriously, but then that's one of the qualities that makes them so amusing.”
“You shouldn't mock the beliefs of others.”
“Quite right, but I hardly think the mockery of someone as insignificant as I am will disturb those who have such grandiose visions.” Malik had looked more serious then. “I'm disappointed in you, Chimene. I had some hopes for you. Be grateful I can laugh at my own disappointment.”
She winced as she remembered her father's words. But Malik believed in nothing and saw the settlers’ hopes as delusions. Even his own faith, as he had admitted, was partly habit, a cultural bond with bis people's history, and partly a hypothesis he sometimes found comforting. Of course he would laugh at others, and even mock himself, so that he did not have to face the failure he had made of his life.
Risa had probably called him by now to discuss the latest incident in their child's life. Chimene could imagine the discussion—Risa muttering her complaints, Malik assuring her that she needn't take the matter so seriously. Her cheeks flamed with rage as she tried to control her emotions.
Anger was useless. It was only another obstacle. She was angry with her parents only because she still had her own doubts; if she were as secure in her faith as Kichi, their reactions could not have touched her. She had spoken to Risa with more confidence than she felt. But she should not be thinking of this now, during a meeting, when she had to open her soul to love for her brothers and sisters.
Boaz Huerta was speaking now. He had come to Oberg from one of Earth's camps a few years ago; Matthew Innes had brought him to Ishtar. The two young men had experiences in common—a time in the camps and a devotion to Ishtar that had rapidly brought them both to the Guide's attention. Boaz lived with a household in the southeast dome, but Matthew had told her he often came to the meetings here.
Theoretically, anyone was free to stand up and speak at a meeting; in practice, the task was usually left to the most eloquent and to those who lived closest to the truth. Chimene herself had spoken at a few meetings in ibn-Qurrah, and she had won some praise from Kichi's son, Grigory, but for Boaz to speak with the Guide present was an honor.
She narrowed her eyes as she studied Boaz Huerta. She could not fault his delivery; his voice was clear and resonant, and he had the ability to make each member feel that his words were addressed to him or her alone. That he was a good-looking young man, with large expressive black eyes and a muscular build evident even under his loose gray shirt and trousers, certainly helped. Yet she found herself seeing places where he might have used an expressive metaphor to good effect instead of plainer words.
“We hide behind barriers,” he was saying, “as Venus's Parasol shields Her from the sun. Our minds are trapped behind clouds as thick and dark as those outside.” His eyes focused on Chimene for a moment; she gazed back steadily, impressed by the warmth and strength his gaze revealed. “But we can sweep away the clouds that surround us and open our minds to the sun.”
He spoke well, but the words seemed obvious and trite. Boaz turned toward an older man near him, one whose face was worn with worry; she saw the man brighten a little as Boaz talked of the loneliness Ishtar could ease and of the power that lay inside all souls. She glanced around the room surreptitiously. Several pilots dressed in blue coveralls sat near one wall; two families from the houses near Kichi's were just behind them. A brown-haired man wearing a wrist bracelet was a few paces from Chimene's side. She knew about that man; he had beaten up another man badly in a fight, and Oberg's Council had decided his fate. He had been remorseful, and the other man had recovered from his injuries, so the offender would soon be freed from the house of detention that adjoined the Administrative Center, although he would have to wear his bracelet for another year.
Only those considered dangerous to others spent time in detention; among them were a woman who had beaten her child severely and a man who had assaulted a young girl. The Guide felt it was important to reach out to such people, and the patrol volunteers brought those who were interested to meetings. Kichi had told her that she hoped Chimene would visit the house of detention; Chimene shrank from the prospect. Better to rid the settlements of such people altogether and expel them from their midst. She shook off the thought, which reflected her mother's sentiments. If such people could be brought to Ishtar and changed, she would have to regard them as her brothers and sisters, too.
If only her faith were stronger. She felt it most when she mused about Ishtar's eventual triumph or imagined herself as the Guide, loved by all. It was weakest when she was apart from other believers, or confronted someone like her mother, or lay alone in her room. But Kichi had doubted, and the Guide had told her that her faith would grow. Chimene had to cling to that promise. Kichi would not have spent the past years summoning Chimene to her side in secret, training her in how to clear her mind of distractions that obscured the truth, teaching her ways to speak and to carry herself, and arguing philosophical points with her, if she had not been sure of her choice.
Lena Kerein leaned toward Chimene, then widened her gray eyes as she ogled Boaz. “I sense the Spirit already,” Lena whispered very softly. “I'd feel it even more if he weren't hiding behind the barrier of those clothes. I wouldn't mind having him appease the Spirit through me.”
Chimene glanced at her friend, annoyed. Lena wasn't above poking some gentle fun at the fellowship, in spite of her faith, although she usually restrained herself in the Guide's presence.
“We welcome all who are true Cytherians,” Boaz said, “all who see that much must be swept away before we can become what we must be. We welcome those who sense the Spirit of this world, the one we must appease and embrace with both our strength and our love.”
The room darkened suddenly. On the large screen behind Boaz, images appeared in rapid succession—the volcanoes of Beta Regio, with lightning dancing around their peaks; a sterile ocean beating against a black shore; bands of bright light leaping up from the northern pole as Venus turned; the glow of the four domes of Oberg clustered together on a rocky mountain plateau.
The Spirit still eluded her. Lena took her left hand; Chimene slipped her other hand into the palm of the man at her right. She bowed her head as the room filled with sighs. Kichi was saying a prayer; Chimene closed her eyes.
* * * *
The meeting ended after the last prayer; no one had come forward to join Ishtar this evening. Chimene walked with Lena toward the creek that ran past Kichi's house.
“I just had to come to this meeting when I heard,” Lena said. “Becoming part of the Guide's household—but I always knew Kichi thought a lot of you.” She poked Chimene's arm gently. “One of us for all these years, and you didn't even tell me.”
“I couldn't. Kichi said keeping that a secret was part of my training.” A secret in the service of Ishtar was no sin, only a temporary necessity. “But that's past now. I've learned a lot from Kichi.”
“I suppose you have. Most of us have to settle for discussions and guidance from folks who aren't much closer to the truth than we are. You've certainly been favored by the Guide. Everyone's saying you must have proven great devotion to be so favored.”
“I'm only another sister.”
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“You're a sister who lives with the Guide herself.”
She wondered if Lena resented that but dismissed the notion. Eva Danas and Matthew Innes had become part of the Guide's household after being in Ishtar only a short time; everyone knew that some could grasp the truth more quickly than others. It did not make them better than anyone else in the fellowship; instead, it imposed burdens most would not want to share. Their lives had to be above reproach; they had to set an example for everyone else.
“You might not want what you call a privilege,” Chimene murmured, “preparing to live your life without a bondmate, with every spare moment apart from your work taken up with service to Ishtar, having to strip away every barrier that threatens your faith.”
“Still, there must be compensations,” Lena said dryly. “I notice that the Guide always sets a good table, with all the contributions she gets. Her household doesn't lack for much.”
“We use only what others choose to give us. We own nothing, not even what we've earned with our own labor.”
Lena chuckled. “Once the food's in your belly and the clothes are on your back, it's a distinction without a difference.”
“We share what we have.”
“Well, of course,” Lena said, “but the traffic seems heavier in one direction than the other. No matter. People certainly wouldn't be very attracted if they thought being part of the fellowship meant they had to live in tents and wear rags, and spreading goods around equally has more appeal if there are more goods to hand around. I'll concede one point, however—I wouldn't want to be in your position. I can still look forward to my journey down the road toward the truth and have something to hope for. You're probably nearer the end of that path. It's got to be harder to hope you won't slip back into error than to admit that you've got a long way to go.”
Lena had touched on one of her fears—that she could not be what Kichi expected her to be. Others had been close to Ishtar's most virtuous adherents only to fail in some way. Such brothers and sisters were still loved, but they were also pitied.
But Kichi could not be wrong about her. The Guide was still convinced that the Spirit had guided her to Chimene. Kichi would never have chosen her if there were any chance she might fall into a more imperfect state. Kichi knew about her remaining doubts and fears, but she was patient. She was sure that in a few years Chimene would be ready when Kichi announced to all what her own household already knew—that Chimene would succeed her as the Guide.
“Still, you must be thrilled,” Lena went on, sounding more like the old friend Chimene remembered. “You should have told me as soon as you got back.”
“I meant to, but—”
“I can guess. Grazie told us Risa wasn't terribly delighted with your news—furious was the way she put it. I know she doesn't care for Ishtar, but she manages to get along with others who have joined—we do all have to live together.”
“I'm her daughter,” Chimene said, “and I'm living with the Guide. I had to tell her that this wasn't a sudden decision, that I've been part of Ishtar for some time.”
“It'll pass. She thought my family was deluded for joining, but eventually she was coming around again, trading for a couple of rabbits and sitting with my mother over tea. She'll get over it. Sef will wear her down—Grazie said he's telling her that she's being too hard on you.”
Chimene smiled in the darkness. Perhaps she should send Sef a private message. He often tried to smooth over disputes among the household; he always said he regarded her as his own daughter. She could tell him how deeply she regretted this estrangement. He would tell Risa about the message; as far as she knew; he and her mother had no secrets from each other. He would intercede for her.
Lena halted near the bridge. “I'd better get home,” she said. “Carlos probably came by already, after his meeting. I expect he's sitting in my room, full of religious fervor and waiting to share the rite with me, and by the time I get back, I'll be too tired to accept his offering. Carlos seems to think he'll offend the Spirit if he doesn't try to appease Her after every meeting.” She grinned suddenly; despite her words, she seemed to be looking forward to the encounter.
Chimene felt a pang of envy. Lena had someone who loved her, with whom the rite was an act of love as well as worship. Carlos Tokugawa wanted to be her bondmate, and eventually the two would make a pledge. They were free to do so; like most of Ishtar's followers, they weren't expected to lower all barriers, only to make the effort. Chimene's love had to encompass everyone; she had to be ready to reach out to all her brothers. Sometimes it hardly seemed like love at all.
“You're lucky to have him,” she said.
“I do love him, I suppose.” Lena tilted her head. “I should love all my brothers, of course, but I care for Carlos more. It only shows how steeped in error I still am, but, as the Guide says, love for one can grow to be love for others.” She was silent for a moment. “Maybe I shouldn't be saying some of the things I do to you. I mustn't cloud your mind with muddy thinking.”
“Oh, Lena—you're my friend. I don't ever want you to think you can't say anything to me. Even the Guide doesn't mind questions or criticisms—she wants everyone to be open with her.”
“She may want it, but I wonder how many besides her inner circle really are. She's more isolated from a lot of us than she used to be.”
“It's only because she's older,” Chimene replied. “She has to save most of her strength for her work and her service to Ishtar, but she relies on all of us here to be honest about what others are thinking.” She touched Lena's arm. “And I expect the same of you.” I might need you, she thought to herself, not wanting to admit aloud that Kichi's increasing isolation troubled her, too. If she were ever to be the Guide's successor, she wanted no barriers separating her from others in the fellowship.
“Come and see me soon,” Lena said. “We can sit around with Carlos and talk about old times. He used to be a little infatuated with you when we were girls, you know. I hope your love for all your brothers doesn't require you to demonstrate any for him right away. He might be willing to move that much closer to sanctity, but I can still be trapped behind the barrier of jealousy.”
Chimene laughed. “Don't worry about that. I'm not past all barriers yet, and the Guide wouldn't approve of anything that might drive you further from us. I hope you'll invite me when you decide to make a pledge.”
“I will.” Lena clasped her hands, then crossed the small bridge. A patrol volunteer on the other bank greeted the young woman; Chimene could not hear her friend's reply.
She turned and climbed the small slope to Kichi's house. The common room was nearly empty. Eva Danas and Galina Kolek sat in one corner, speaking to Boaz, who had not yet left; Josefa Huong's head rested on Yusef Deniz's shoulder. Lang Eberschild and Matthew Innes were with Kichi, reclining on cushions in the center of the room. Matthew looked up as Chimene approached, then quickly got to his feet.
He led her toward the screen, away from the others; she looked up into his gray-green eyes. His arm encircled her waist; she leaned against his slender body. Matthew had brought her to his room three years ago, when she was sixteen, during one of her visits to this house. He had been her first lover, and Chimene knew he had welcomed the chance to instruct her, but Kichi had chosen him for her. He was gentle with her and spoke of his love for her, but the delight he took in being with her would not keep him from others. That had been one of her most difficult lessons—learning to love Matthew, and then realizing that she would have to share his love with other sisters in Ishtar.
But she had to share herself, too. That had been even harder; the first time she had been with a man other than Matthew, she had imagined that she still held Matthew in her arms. She was past that now; she knew she could love others. She wondered why she sometimes felt that she had lost something rather than gaining more love.
He stroked her hair; she brushed back a pale blond lock from his forehead. Perhaps he wanted to come to her room now and share the r
ite with her.
“You seem pensive,” Matthew said. “I think I know why. You're still new to this household and worrying about whether you'll ever feel you're one of us.” It was true; Matthew had the Guide's gift for knowing how she felt. “That's over, Chimene. You won't have to move between one place and another, wondering if you'll ever be at home in either place. You're with us now, and every household of believers will be your home.”
She was about to speak; he pressed a finger against her lips lightly. “It's time you shared the rite with us. We've asked Boaz to stay—he's been with us several times before. You should be with us as well.”
She was suddenly afraid. “I don't know.”
“But you've participated in the rite before.”
“Only the way you and I celebrated it—alone, with one man, never with others present.” Matthew had to know that already; she had admitted as much to Kichi, who kept no secrets from her household. “I'm not ready for this.”
“The Guide believes you are, or I would never have suggested it. We want you with us, Chimene. This is a barrier you have to conquer if you're ever to become the Guide yourself.”
He was right, however much she recoiled from such an encounter. To be asked to join those so close to the Guide was an invitation no one in Ishtar could refuse; only the worthiest of believers would be asked. She had known this would come sooner or later. How could she refuse? She recalled what Kichi had told her years ago, on the night when she had first told Chimene she would be the next Guide. Turn away now, and the wall you build inside yourself will imprison you as surely as this dome does. That threat had always lain behind Kichi's promises and the faith she claimed to have in Chimene.
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