Venus of Shadows

by Pamela Sargent

  “Older than you were,” Matthew murmured, “when Kichi chose you.”

  “And I'm not so old that I have to worry about a successor.”

  “But that's the point,” Boaz said. “She'd have years with you—decades to master what being a Guide demands. By the time she became the Guide, she would know almost as much as you do, and she'd be prepared to see the fellowship into the new era you've made possible. And if she isn't to follow you, that experience will still make her a valuable teacher to the one who does, when you're no longer with us.” Boaz gestured with one hand. “How it pains me to speak of that—I'd have you live forever if I could, I can't imagine our world without you. But we must prepare for that eventuality, and it would give me joy to know that your wisdom will live on in another.”

  She could not bear to think of death or of the aging that would precede it. Occasionally, she thought that Kichi had been fortunate to die before she lost all her beauty. At other times, she had almost wished for a way to gain a Habber's long life, with a body that would have remained unchanged. It was a sinful thought at best.

  “If you want a child here so much,” she said, “we could have the child you want ourselves.”

  “As we shall, in time. But you see how much lies ahead for you now. You have other concerns, and I fear that our child will have to wait, but there's no reason we can't share what we have with another of Ishtar's children in the meantime. You'll grow to love Lakshmi, and our child will have one who will be like an older sister to her.”

  “Lakshmi will be devoted to you,” Matthew said. “For the past days, almost all she's talked about is having the chance to meet you and talk with you.”

  Chimene set down her bowl of grain. “I suppose I must consider this, since those so close to me recommend it.”

  “Well, then.” Matthew reclined against a cushion. “We can set that matter aside for now. We have other things to discuss. Boaz has spoken to the other Councilors here and communicated with the other settlements. The patrols in all of our communities are already looking for members who are trustworthy and willing to go to Turing.”

  She frowned. “Turing?”

  “We've left them alone quite long enough,” Boaz said. “I don't like the rumors I hear about the place—that the people there imagine they can find a way to summon the Habbers back, or that they're trying to plot with others against us. It's time we tried to lead those misguided souls back to the truth. They need the patrol to persuade them to contemplate the right way. They need a firmer hand.”

  Chimene glanced at Eva and Yusef; they seemed as surprised as she, “If you feel they need to hear the truth,” she said, “we can always call them back and find others to work there in their place. Surely they'd be more receptive to our teachings once they're back among their families and friends.”

  “Your faith does you credit,” Boaz said. “When I see how it lives in you, it's hard to believe that anyone can resist its beauty. But some people cannot be won with gentle words and persuasion. Oh, some of them might reach out to us if they were brought back, but many would only spread discord here. Any seeds the Habbers may have planted in their minds must be torn out before they come among us again.”

  “And you decided this without consulting me?” she said angrily.

  Boaz pressed his fingertips together. “I was acting for you, Chimene. I was sure you'd agree once you were back. It would be wise for you to show the Project Council and Administrator Alim that you are capable of handling this potential source of trouble.” He smiled. “And how can it possibly be wrong to bring those people in Turing closer to Ishtar, even if that means we may have to be a bit harsh with them?”

  She said, “My brother's there.”

  “All the more reason you should be supporting my decision.”

  “Really? The last time Dyami visited, he led me to believe that he wasn't entirely unsympathetic with our fellowship.”

  “That was some time ago.”

  “He hasn't told me anything in the few messages he's sent me to indicate he's changed his mind.” Chimene finished her tea. “He has some of our mother's skepticism. It may take him longer to reach the truth, but I think he's trying. It's true that he spoke kindly of some of the Habbers there, but by now he's probably seen that they were never really his friends. I wasn't happy that he chose to work with Habbers, but he was young when he decided to go to Turing, and it's natural to want a little more independence at that age. I'm sure many of the others there are not unlike Dyami. It'd be foolish to be hard on people who might turn to us freely in time.”

  Boaz glanced at Matthew; the blond man's lip curled slightly. She could tell what they were thinking—that she was being too lenient, that her love for her people left her a bit more tolerant than she should be. They did not understand. She knew Dyami would come to her eventually, that the barriers between them would fall, as they once had with Sef. He would come to love her; she felt that the Spirit had promised this to her, that her moments with Sef were only a shadow of the love his son would give her.

  Sef, of course, had retreated from her, but only because he was still so bound to Risa. Dyami had no such ties. He would be struggling with his feelings, telling himself they were wrong; she had seen how he had shied away from her. Perhaps he had remained in Turing because he feared what might happen. When he became part of Ishtar, however, he would see what had to exist between them. They would have a perfect love, one that would shatter yet another barrier.

  Boaz said, “I have other things to tell you. I think we'd better speak alone in your room.”

  “More secrets, Boaz? More matters you've decided without my advice? Can't you speak freely before our housemates?”

  “I think you'd prefer to hear this alone.” He stood up and held out his hand.

  * * * *

  “You'd better sit down.” Boaz settled Chimene on a cushion near her bed, then began to pace. “I didn't have an opportunity to tell you about young Maxim Paz before. The boy has been quite tormented, but he came to me freely to confess his sins. Since he's desperate to atone for them, I saw no need for him to admit them publicly. I'm sure you'll agree when you've spoken to him privately.”

  “What has he done?” she asked.

  “He's an affront to Ishtar. He's struggled against it, but his wants sometimes drive him to the beds of men.”

  “How pitiful.”

  “But he knows he's offended the Spirit, and he deserves our compassion. An older man seduced him when he was a young boy and apparently used him quite brutally. That man will have to atone for that, but I think it would be kinder to Maxim not to drag that out in a meeting yet, since he'd be shamed along with the man. He needs time to find the right way and to practice it before he confronts his corruptor.”

  Chimene struggled against her distaste; anyone who would use a child that way deserved no love.

  “The young man still has his lapses,” Boaz continued, “but we can inspire him to resist his urges. He's also been open with me about some of those who share his particular desires. When he's ready, we'll see that they're brought to repent. The thought of leaving them to practice their offenses disgusts me, but it might be a greater evil to shame Maxim now—it might only drive him further from the truth.” He stopped pacing and leaned against the wall. “The men he told me about aren't a threat to us. Most of them are so frightened that their secret will be discovered that they go out of their way to look respectable. Some of them have reputations as our strongest believers.”

  “But that's worse than not believing at all,” she objected. “If you know who some of them are, how can we allow them to go on offending the Spirit? Surely we should be finding ways to bring them to confess and atone.”

  “And we shall, but not right away. Some may be moved to confess by themselves, and others are probably struggling with their urges, as Maxim is. You must be patient, Chimene. Dealing with Turing is more urgent now. Some there have practiced similar evils, while those who haven't have
tolerated them. They've not only mocked what a woman and man must share together, but they've also practiced their filth with Habbers—of that you may be certain. When they've given up their sins, perhaps others in these settlements who need more persuasion can be sent there.”

  “You speak of Turing,” she said, “as if you want to make it a prison.”

  “Not at all. It can be a place of atonement and a place where evildoers won't infect others with their deeds. Perhaps Sigurd and the others who thought they could give our world to Habbers can labor there—we can't keep them under detention indefinitely, and in Turing they'd be of some use.”

  “You seem to have thought about this quite a lot.”

  “Matthew and I,” he continued, “have also discussed sending some of those under detention here to Turing—those who are nearing the end of their punishments and who might prove their worthiness to reenter our society by aiding the patrol there. That would relieve our patrols of some responsibilities, and we don't want to strain our resources too much.”

  “Dyami's there,” she said. “Why should I alienate him now, when I know—” She swallowed. “Anyway, what can those people do? They have to realize we've won, that they can't stand against us. I have no objection to sending brothers and sisters there to live among them and profess the truth, but—”

  Boaz came toward her. “Perhaps your concern for your brother is preventing you from seeing your obligations to others.” He sat down in front of her. “You know Teo Lingard.”

  “Of course. He was Dyami's closest friend.”

  “And I know what kind Teo is. Maxim told me. He's seen Teo in certain houses, offering to men what should be offered only to women, through whom men commune with the Spirit. Teo fucks men—that's the kind he is. That's the kind your brother Dyami is.”

  She struck at his face; he seized her by the wrists. “I don't believe it!”

  “What do you think he and Teo did all the times they were alone? Why do you think they were so close? I showed Maxim an image of your brother—he recognized him quickly enough. He'd seen Dyami before, at a place where his kind gather. He saw him go to a room with another man. He spoke to Maxim and didn't trouble to hide what he was—he even told the boy there was no evil in what he did.”

  She tried to pull away; Boaz gripped her more tightly. “I didn't want to tell you this, but your love for your brother has blinded you to the truth about him. He mocks Ishtar and he mocks you. He satisfies his lusts with no thought of the communion that must exist between a man and a woman, that binds us to the Spirit. He raises barriers between himself and any hope of appeasing Her. He thinks he can practice his offenses without suffering the retribution nature has inflicted on them in the past.”

  “I won't listen to this!” she cried.

  “You must. Shall I summon Maxim here and have him tell you what he knows? Should I tell you about a pilot who told me about the warm glances and sighs he saw pass between Dyami and a Habber man in Turing's bay? Maybe he even lay with the Habber—that's worse than what his friend Teo does. How long do you think the Spirit will remain with you if out of misplaced feeling for your brother, you allow him to keep affronting Her?”

  Boaz let go; her wrists felt bruised. How could her hopes have been so mistaken? She feared that the Spirit might already be abandoning her.

  “I didn't want you to bear this wound,” he said more gently. “I didn't want to believe it myself. I warned that gossiping pilot not to spread his rumors because I thought he must be mistaken. But Maxim has told me much, and I know that he spoke the truth. Teo told him about his boyhood love, and though he didn't tell Maxim his name, we can guess who that love was, can't we?”

  “I can talk to Dyami,” she whispered. “I can make him listen. I can be patient if I know he'll give this up.”

  “You were just telling me that his kind shouldn't be left to pursue their practices. You're putting Dyami above your responsibilities as our Guide.” He reached for her wrists again; she winced in pain. “Your family has set many bad examples, Chimene—an uncle who fled to a Hab long ago, a father who was seduced by Habbers, a mother who pretends to love you but steadfastly refuses to join us, and now a brother who engages in vices that can only condemn him. I can just see him laughing with one of his lovers about the sister he was able to fool so easily.”

  He released her. She crumpled to the cushion, sick with shock and shame. Dyami had not retreated from her because he feared surrendering to her love but only because the thought of women disgusted him.

  “Ishtar is testing you,” Boaz said. “You can only show your love for Dyami and those like him by forcing them to turn from such evils. You mustn't give people any reason to doubt their Guide, especially now when another sign of our triumph may be near.”

  She raised her head.

  “I spoke with Administrator Alim earlier, before you were awake,” he went on. “There's talk that Commander Kaseko Wugabe is now completely in control of the Council of Mukhtars. Naturally, given how his Guardians have always regarded the Habbers, he's pleased that they're no longer among us, and he knows Ishtar was largely responsible for that. It's also strengthened his hand against those who had their doubts about us.”

  She sat up, unable to care about what a distant Earthman thought. “Alim might have asked to speak to me,” she muttered, “or said something to me before I left.”

  “But he knows that communicating with me or Matthew is nearly the same as speaking to you, doesn't he? Anyway, that's not all he said. A final decision hasn't been made, but a delegation from the Council of Mukhtars may visit us sometime in the future. A Mukhtar may even be among them, and they would be coming here to mark this new era and to show their gratitude. After all, with the Habbers gone, they have nothing to fear by granting us more freedom, and they can still claim part of the Project's glory for themselves. They would be dealing with you and Alim as the rulers of one world would treat another. Think of how every Cytherian would honor you then, seeing the Mukhtars treat you as an equal. This will truly be our world at last.”

  Chimene clutched at her robe. “They would come here?”

  “To honor you, to show that the time for our freedom has finally come. They began by guiding the Project, but in the end it may be we who guide them, who renew their dying civilization with the power Ishtar lends us. It's what every Cytherian has hoped for. I want those visitors, if they come, to see the light of faith that shines from you.”

  “My faith,” she said sadly. “It's still an effort, isn't it? My faith didn't show me the truth about Dyami.”

  “You're being tested. Your brother is only another obstacle, one who can never live in harmony with the Spirit if he remains as he is now. You know what the Spirit demands, both from him and from you. His actions prove how steeped in error he is. You can only show your love for him by trying to help him now.”

  Boaz drew her to him. “I've told you what I plan to do, but I must have your assent. You are still my Guide, Chimene.”

  She steadied herself. Dyami had separated himself from the Spirit that embraced all men through women. He refused to make the offering all men had to make and that all women had to accept, the act that made life possible and that lay at the very root of what they were as human beings. He refused Ishtar's gift, which united all people with Her. His acts showed that he believed he could escape his human nature, shrug it off as though it were no more than an accident instead of what had been ordained. He had been among Habbers too long, those creatures who thought they could change or escape what they were. But he would be brought to repentance, and then he would come to her. She could not be mistaken about that; she had felt it too strongly before finding out the truth about her brother. She had to rid him of this obstacle to her love; that was what the Spirit was saying through Boaz.

  She closed her eyes. “Carry out your plans.”

  Twenty-eight

  The wood bordering the north dome's lake was becoming overgrown. Dyami trailed after one
of the gardening machines as it sucked deadwood into its maw; the square machine shook a little on its treads as it chewed up the wood. He wondered if it would break down again.

  They needed either more machines or more people. As a child in Oberg, he and his schoolmates had been taken to the forested areas to clear away deadwood and underbrush. Here in Turing, they had been neglecting the work recently and the woods were becoming more wild. He would recommend to the others later that they all come here and clear away what they could before the task became even more difficult.

  More people would arrive in Turing soon; he was sure of that. They would not be left to themselves much longer. The new arrivals were not likely to resemble those here now; his refuge would be transformed into another domed settlement. Those people would want real houses and a school for their children, and believers in Ishtar were likely to be among them; perhaps there would even be a patrol. Some of those here might have to return to their old homes. He wondered which he dreaded more, going back to Oberg or staying to witness the changes in Turing.

  He would be forced to hide once more; he would reacquaint himself with his old fears. A few of his friends, contemplating the changes that were sure to come, had suggested that they override the airship bay's systems and prevent any ship from landing there. Such an act would be futile. They could not make everything they needed for themselves; sooner or later, an important installation would fail, and they might be without the tools or components to repair it. Their existence would be precarious at best, and Ishtar was hardly likely to tolerate such an open act of rebellion.

  Even so, he wished that more of his colleagues here could be persuaded to make the attempt. Such a gesture, even if it failed, was preferable to waiting passively while others decided their fate.

  He moved toward the lake; he was near the spot where Balin had first made love to him. Longing filled him; had the Habber forgotten him already? Balin would not want to forget, but if his memories grew too painful, he might give in to the temptation to have them erased. They would not disappear entirely; the Habitat's cyberminds could preserve them. Dyami would become another bit of information, to be called up through a Link if Balin ever wanted to relive part of his past.