She stopped next to one of the globe’s three legs. A ladder led up to the ship, but she could see no opening. For a moment, she was tempted to climb the ladder, but doubted that the ship would open to her. Llipel and Llare were not likely to leave the vessel unprotected now that Nita and Sven could go outside.
She turned away from the ship and walked across the grass, keeping near the Institute as she glanced toward the forest. The more she learned, the crueler her world became. She could almost understand why her people had sought death; maybe the pain and neglect they had inflicted on one another were finally too much for them to bear.
Rubble crunched under her boots; she had reached the expanse in front of the Institute. She strode across the flat surface and sat down on the steps leading into the tower.
“Nita.”
She looked up; Sven was coming down the steps. “You said nothing was wrong,” he continued, “but you didn’t look as though that was true. I was worried.”
“Nothing happened to the cold room. They’re all there and safe enough, if that makes any difference.”
“You don’t look very relieved.”
“I found out a few things,” she said. “I heard about my parents.”
“You’d better come inside. We can talk there now. I spoke to Llare after you came out of the cryonic facility. I told him it was our time for togetherness now and that we didn’t want to be observed. He asked me if it was our time for what our kind calls love, and I let him believe that—he knows our people liked to be alone then.”
She was silent.
“Please come inside,” he said. “Llare’s asked the mind to close its sensors in the tower so we can have privacy. It won’t open them again without our authorization. You don’t have to worry.”
She stood up and let him lead her inside. He guided her toward one side of the lobby; they sat down on the long, cushioned platform. “What happened, Nita?”
“I found out why my parents never came here for me. It wasn’t because of the war. Apparently they came here long before that. They decided they didn’t want me, they changed their minds, and no one else ever wanted me, either.”
Sven cleared his throat. “Maybe that’s not so bad. Isn’t it better than finding out that the war killed them, or that they died fighting in it?”
“I don’t know what to think!” she cried. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about anything, I don’t even know what I am! I can’t be like Llipel, and I don’t want to be like our kind! Is that what I’ll turn into—someone who can’t care about anything, who acts like them?”
“I know, Nita. I’m not sure of what I am, either.” He paused. “I don’t think I want to know about my own parents. Look at it this way—we’re alive because they didn’t come for us.”
She stood up, took off her boots, then removed the protective suit, folding it up before putting it on the floor. “I suppose that’s better than dying the way our people did,” she said.
“And maybe our parents didn’t think of us as real. In a way, we weren’t yet—they wouldn’t even have been able to see us without looking through a microscope. They didn’t really know us.”
“But if they took the trouble to come here, shouldn’t they have cared about what happened to us later?” She rubbed at her eyes. “Llipel was trying to console me when I heard the truth. I was so afraid of her, and now—” She looked down at the weapon and belt that lay next to her silver suit. “I feel horrible about distrusting her.”
“I know,” Sven said. “Llare still seems so kind and understanding. I wish we could trust them, but until we’re sure, we should be careful.”
He stood up and walked toward the booth. She followed him inside and watched as he rummaged in the desk drawers, searching every one until a pile of chains and medallions was heaped on one desk.
“That’s all of them,” he murmured. “We’ll find a place to hide them up in the residential quarters. They won’t be able to get at the weapons.”
“They may have weapons of their own.”
“At least they won’t get ours.”
They shared their evening meal in the large cafeteria on the fifteenth floor. There were foods here Nita had never seen in the east wing—chunks of a fishy substance in a light sauce, tiny vegetables prepared in unfamiliar ways, small cakes, and a pinkish liquid that made her feel light-headed after only one glass.
Tempting as the food was, Sven seemed to be eating very little. He had been more cheerful when they were practicing with their wands in the garden and had talked of how they might begin to explore the forest. Then he had aimed at a bird in one of the trees, expecting only to stun it, but the bird had been dead when he picked it up.
They had learned that their wands could kill smaller creatures, and that was probably useful to know, so that they would not be reckless. She was grateful that they hadn’t aimed at the cats. But the incident had dismayed him.
Sven was picking at his food with his fingers. He had already given up trying to eat with the metal implements their kind had used to dine on certain foods. He had nodded at her attempts at conversation, but said little himself.
She was beginning to notice small differences in their reactions. However unhappy she got, her sorrowful moods passed before too long; Sven’s moods seemed to have a deeper hold on him. She wondered what this meant. How different had individuals of their kind been from one another? Releasing one’s anger could hurt someone else; holding it in might only make it worse for oneself. There seemed no purpose in having such feelings.
She suddenly yawned. Sven looked up. “You’re tired.”
“I guess I am.” She set down her knife and fork. “Maybe I should go to sleep.”
“The mind’ll let us know if anyone enters the tower,” he said, “but I don’t think anyone will. They know we want to be alone. The cats should be all right in the garden.”
“Are you going to sleep, too?”
He poured more of the pink liquid into his glass. “I think I’ll stay up for a while.”
“Do you want me to stay with you, then?”
“You don’t have to. I’m used to being alone.”
“Good night, Sven.” He turned away as she got up and walked toward the lift.
She had left the silver suit in one of the rooms on the fourteenth floor, next to the room Sven had decided to use. Her closet held no clothing, but a door near it led to a small lavatory, where she discovered a stall in which she could bathe under a stream of water.
She left the lavatory, deciding she would wash in the morning, and settled on the room’s pillowed platform. Tired as she was, she wondered if she would be able to sleep. Was it only that morning when Llare had spoken to her? Was it only thirty days ago that she had believed herself to be alone in the Institute with her guardian and Llare? It seemed much longer ago, part of a time when, whatever her sorrows, she had felt protected and safe.
Sven claimed that they had to act as though their fears were fact. She wasn’t sure she believed that. How would they ever regain the goodwill of Llipel and Llare if the two realized they had been doubted and feared? Distrust and suspicion might widen the breach; trust would be difficult to regain. She and Sven might only bring about what they most feared and lead their guardians to conclude that Earth’s people were indeed dangerous.
She was about to unbutton her shirt and prepare for sleep when she leaned toward the small screen near the platform. “I’d like to speak to Llipel,” she said quickly, before she could have second thoughts.
Her guardian’s golden-furred face suddenly appeared. “I have been concerned for you,” Llipel said. “I was sorry I could not ease you.”
“I know.”
“You are with the boy now. Llare tells me that you wish to be by yourselves during your time of togetherness. Perhaps that will ease you.”
“I’m all right now,” Nita said. “I wanted you to know.”
Llipel was silent for a bit, then said, “I will tell you this
. Another time is coming, not just for you and the boy, but for us. Another change is near, and I do not know what it will bring, but no harm will come to you. You have nothing to fear from me—of that I am certain, though I do not know how I know this.”
Nita tensed. She and Sven hadn’t fooled Llipel at all. She lowered her eyes, tormented by her inability to trust her guardian even now. “It may be,” Llipel went on, “that a time of silence will come when I no longer speak to you, but I will not forget you. I feel—but I cannot put it into your words.”
Llipel sounded almost as if she was trying to say farewell. Nita was about to speak when the door opened; Sven entered the room.
“Thank you for telling me this,” Nita said. “Good night, Llipel.”
“Good night.” The image vanished.
Sven stepped toward the platform; he seemed a little unsteady on his feet. “What was that all about?”
“I had to speak to her,” she answered. “I didn’t want her worrying about me after the way I acted in the cold room. She sounded strange, Sven. She says another time’s coming, that she may not speak to me after a while, but that I have nothing to fear.”
“Somehow that doesn’t sound comforting.”
She leaned back against the pillows. “Did you ever think that maybe they’re testing us, trying to find out what we’ll do now? We’re so quick to see them as threats, even after all the years they’ve looked after us. Our kind seemed to see everything as a threat or an enemy.”
“Not everything. We can trust each other, can’t we?” He sat down on the platform next to her.
He seemed to want companionship now; he reached for her hand. She let him hold it, surprised at how moved she was by the gesture. “It wasn’t a lie, what I told Llare,” he said, “that I wanted to be alone with you for a while.”
Her cheeks grew warm as she smiled. “I feel the same way,” she said softly. His arms were around her; she leaned against him, welcoming his touch. She thought of how she had snuggled up to Llipel and had been comforted by her warmth. She had missed such closeness.
Sven stroked her arm gently. She pressed closer to him; his cheek brushed against hers. Her arms were around his waist; she trembled a little, surprised at the pleasure she felt.
His hand pulled at her shirt. A wilder feeling welled up inside her, and then she was afraid. “Nita,” he whispered. “I want to—I can’t stop thinking about it.”
She drew back a little. “No, Sven. We can’t—”
“It’s all right.” He held her more tightly. “I have an implant. I got one a little while after I first talked to you. I knew what could happen, and so did Llare. I asked him to help implant it, and he did.”
“I can’t.”
“Nothing will happen. Isn’t this what we’re supposed to do?” He pressed his lips against her neck; she tried to push him away, but his grip was too strong. “I want this so much—it has to be time.”
She twisted away. “No!” He reached for her; she jumped to her feet. “I’m not ready for this!”
“Then why did you let me hold you before?”
She could not answer.
“What do you want, then?” His face was drawn, his eyes angrier than she had ever seen them. “You didn’t seem to mind at first.”
“It isn’t supposed to be like this.”
“How do you know?” he said. “I just want to do what our people did when they were together. I can’t put it out of my mind. What do you want? All those words I’ve seen in some of the stories about how I love you and I can’t live without you? Well, I can’t, can I? You’re the only one of my kind here. Who else can I go to?”
“I don’t want this.”
“You could try. I can’t believe you don’t feel it, too.” He started toward her and grabbed at her arm. She pulled free and yanked her weapon from its sheath.
“Don’t come near me!” she shouted, shocked at her own rage. “You aren’t thinking of me, just of what you want. I’ve read the records, I know what some men did to women, forcing themselves on them and hurting them and not caring about their feelings. Is that what you’re like?”
His face paled. “That’s what you think? I wouldn’t have hurt you. Do you think you’re any better? Look at you—you’re ready to fight the only one of your kind left.”
Her arm fell. He spun around and strode from the room. She let the wand drop to the floor, then threw herself across the platform.
She had wanted him closer to her, at least in the beginning. Why hadn’t he seen that his embrace might have been enough? Had she made some sort of mistake and led him to think she wanted more? She had felt almost as if an enemy was with her, one who saw her only as something to be overcome.
She buried her head in a pillow, holding back her tears.
She was awake. Nita rubbed her eyes and sat up. A glance toward the window revealed a bright, sunlit sky; she had overslept.
She went into the lavatory and splashed cold water on her face as she thought of Sven. Another floor of residential quarters lay beneath this one; she could always live there. She was used to being alone; Sven would understand. Maybe he would want to keep away from her now.
She left the lavatory and saw that her weapon was still on the floor. She picked it up, then thrust it into her belt.
I don’t want to fight, she thought. They would have to reach some sort of agreement. She was the only one Sven could turn to; he had said so the night before. If others had lived, he could have gone to someone else.
That notion was a knife stabbing inside her, bringing pain, anger, and a feeling of helplessness and desperation. She realized that she was feeling what some of the records called jealousy, that she could feel it even when no one lived who could take the boy from her. The feeling was poisonous; she could rid herself of it only by reaching out to him.
Sven was sitting at a table near the lift as she entered the cafeteria. He lifted his head; dark circles were under his eyes.
She walked toward him. “Are you still angry?” he asked.
“No.”
“I don’t know what happened to me. I had these feelings, but I could ignore them before. Then I was holding you and I couldn’t think of anything else, and when you tried to pull away, I didn’t know what to do.”
“I had some feelings, too, at first, and then I was frightened.”
“Even when you knew about my implant and that nothing could happen?”
She nodded. “I was confused. All these feelings came at once—wanting to be close, feeling happy, and being afraid.”
“Then you said I was like those men who forced themselves on women. It was like saying I was worse than you, or was something else you weren’t. But maybe I am like that. Maybe that’s what I’ll become.”
“No.” She sat down across from him. “I won’t believe it. I wouldn’t have said it if I hadn’t read some of those stories. You’re not like that, I know you’re not. We don’t have to be the way they were.”
“You sound as though we have a choice.”
“It’s better to think that we do,” she replied.
“And we can still be friends?”
“Of course.”
He stood up and paced toward the windows. She was about to speak when he motioned to her. “Nita, come here. There’s something below you should see.”
She hurried toward him, then peered down through a pane at the garden. Llipel and Llare were sitting together under a tree; Llipel leaned toward her companion and gestured with her hands.
Sven let out his breath. “I think their time for separateness is over.”
12
“It seems,” Llipel said, “that you can protect yourself when you go into the forest.”
Nita lowered her weapon. She had been preparing to fire at a rock Sven was about to hurl into the air. “I’m better at it,” she said, “but it’ll be harder to hit a target out there.”
“You will have to keep close to this place when you first explore, until
you grow used to the forest,” Llipel replied.
Llare descended the ship’s ladder; the opening above him had disappeared. Sven turned as his guardian went to Llipel’s side. For days, Nita had rarely seen the two apart. They often went to their ship when Sven and Nita were outside practicing with their wands; at other times, their guardians sat together and watched them in silence. It was strange to see them together so much, and even more unnerving to sense their eyes on her as she aimed and fired. They seemed unperturbed by the weapons, but they could be looking for weaknesses, trying to see how well she and the boy could defend themselves.
“You’re improving,” Sven muttered.
“That isn’t saying much,” Nita responded. She usually hit her target only when it wasn’t moving.
“Try again.” He tossed the rock into the air; she miscalculated and missed. She was more used to the weapon now and did not miss quite so often. She supposed she would get better with more practice, but skill with the weapon wouldn’t be enough. If her guardian could make her nervous, how ready would she be to aim at a dangerous animal?
She gazed at the forest, trying to imagine herself among the trees and uncertain of what lay behind her or ahead. She and Sven had been reading about wildlife, tracking, setting up a shelter, signs of possible dangers, and what supplies might be needed, yet she worried about how useful much of that information would be. The forest had been a different place long ago, tamed and shaped by her kind. The people who had entered the wood had known that others could aid or rescue them if they were lost or endangered.
Llipel and Llare were sitting on the ground near their ship. Nita caught a few indistinct mewlings and whistlings. They were using their own language, as they so often did when together. They rarely gestured as they did when speaking her language, when they sometimes needed a sign to make their meaning clear.
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