Authors: Pamela Sargent
Rulek shrugged. "I'll do what I please." He looked down for a moment. "There's nothing for me here."
Her chest constricted; a weight seemed to press against her, making it difficult for her to breathe. "But you know what's happening to the Minds. We must decide what to do, and how to help the rest of Earth when they learn of this. They may already know—they'll be afraid."
"You can decide only one thing in the end—to leave here. I'm deciding it sooner, that's all." His lip curled. "Do you think I'd stay here now? My life will be easier with the skyfolk, however strange they are. What can you offer me, or anyone else? Earth is dying now. I won't spend my life fighting a futile battle."
"You've changed, Rulek." Her voice was edged with contempt. "I thought you were braver."
He lifted his chin; her words could not wound him. "I broke my ties with my family and my home. It was a hard thing for me, but it's done. This will be easier. I have no more ties."
She wanted to hit him. He raised his hands, dimly sensing her intention. "The Mind of the heavendwellers will feed me dreams," he went on.
Anra glared helplessly around the tent, longing to curse at Jerod and Tuela for allowing it. "You mustn't dream their dreams," she said, trying to control herself. "Tell Homesmind not to feed you any more. If It can give you dreams, It can wean you from them, too." She held out a hand.
Rulek did not seem to be listening. "I walk through a garden with Wyke," he murmured, "and she sings to me. We hunt together and cook our game and laugh and make love together. It's all real to me. Only when I awake do I know it's a dream."
He should never have come to this tent, Anra thought. He had lost not only his pain, but also his will. "Wyke's dead," she cried out, shaking a fist. "She's dead, and your dreams won't change that."
Rulek showed his teeth. "How you hate her. I see what you're really telling me. You want me here for yourself. You only want to bind me to you."
Her mind struck at him before she could stop herself. He rolled across the ground, then staggered to his feet, rubbing his jaw. He was still smiling, but his eyes showed his rage. "Don't fight me, Anra."
She stood up; her legs were shaking. "I should have left you in the desert. I wish I'd never brought you here. If you leave, don't ever come back."
"I don't intend to."
"You cursed boy. I should have left you to die." She ran from the tent, wondering how she could have thought she cared for him.
The tent had been taken down. One of the shuttlecraft had departed; the other two had been abandoned.
Rulek was gone. Anra walked along the rows of her garden, telling herself that it was better this way. The feelings the boy had evoked in her had made her irrational and weak. She couldn't afford them now; she needed to keep her mind steady to deal with what was to come.
The Net was heavy with despair. She had blocked her mind off from it, not wanting the village's sorrow and fear to seep into her, but she could still feel the Net's heavy cords.
She poured water from her jug, letting it trickle as she walked down one row. Etey had been oddly quiet all morning, shielding her thoughts even more than usual. She hadn't responded when Anra had told her Rulek was leaving Earth, but then Etey had probably sensed that earlier.
Anra opened her link slightly, reaching out to Homes-mind's thoughts. She could feel the drain on Its energy as it struggled to hold the Minds together. She suddenly regretted her parting words to Rulek. She had wanted to shock him, warn him of the dangers of dreaming; instead, she had only expressed her own resentment and anger and given him yet another reason for retreating from the world.
Should I tell him that you're sorry
? Homesmind said faintly.
—No— she replied. —I doubt he cares whether I'm sorry or not—
He thinks that dreaming will heal him. My people once learned from their dreams. They could experience part of the life of another as though it were their own life, and use the lessons they learned in the real world. A dream could soothe a troubled spirit and enable it to return to life refreshed. When My people would tire of their long lives, and choose to die, their final dreams would help them gather the threads of their lives so that they could leave this life with a sense of completion, of a life well lived. But fear has entered their lives, and dreams are becoming a retreat. I cannot prevent it. Even if I had the power, I cannot resist My people and cling to the Minds as well.
—Perhaps they would stop their dreaming— Anra said, —if You left this system—
I cannot abandon Earth's Minds. I tell Myself that if My people are dreaming, then at least they will not try to interfere with that important mission. But that is only My reason helping Me make the best of this situation. Child, your people may have been right to fear dreaming. You and those like you may still be strong enough to face what may come.
She closed her link. Homesmind had more faith in her than she had in herself.
Reiho and Lydee were walking along the path leading to the hut; Etey suddenly emerged from the doorway. Anra put down her jug and went to the edge of the garden. All three were shielding their minds tightly; Etey looked away quickly when Anra gazed at her.
"Something's wrong," Anra said. "You have to tell me something that you're afraid to say." She glanced at Reiho, who was wearing his silver suit; she couldn't recall the last time he had put the garment on. "What is it?"
"I was hoping you'd already sensed it through the Net," Reiho replied.
"No. I've kept my wall up."
"Then we'll have to say it." His face was grim.
Lydee said, "We've come to say good-bye."
Anra stepped back. "But why?"
"We must go to our own world."
"Not you, Lydee. Marellon told me that if you ever left, it would be the end of our village."
Lydee held out a hand. "That isn't so. We mean to return. But the people of the Wanderer need us now."
Etey nodded. "Our people need our help. Some are so afraid of what may happen that they're thinking of taking their own lives. Others are entranced by dreams, and still others are pleading with Homesmind to leave this system. We must reach out to them. Our people aren't used to such dissension."
Anra stared at them wordlessly, wanting to beg them not to go.
"We must go to our world to help you, too," Reiho said. "Homesmind is trying to save your Minds here, and that's taking much of Its strength. It has little left over to calm our people and give them courage. We'll have to do that."
"Can you do it?" Anra asked. "You're only three people."
"Some are wavering," Reiho said. "If we speak to them directly, they may find their courage and then help others to find theirs."
"You don't have to leave Earth to do that," Anra objected. "You could speak to them from here, through your links to Homesmind."
Reiho hooked his thumbs around his belt. "We can speak to them now." He paused. "But Homesmind could grow weaker."
"You'll have our shuttles," Lydee said hastily. "And we'll leave you one of those out there as well." She gestured at the field. "You'll need them if another village calls to you. Try not to lose contact with the rest of Earth." Her mouth twitched. "Maybe they'll be more willing to have contact with you when they know that we are gone."
Anra blinked; her eyes were stinging. She put her arms around Reiho, leaning against the man who had been a father to her. "I see that you must go," she murmured as she released him. "But I'm afraid of what will happen to us when the rest of Earth realizes that the Minds might fail for good. We'll be blamed, and they'll say it's our sin that brought it about. You heard Areli. Even people here are wondering if they were wrong to trust you."
"I know," Lydee said, "that if the Minds fail before Homesmind can rescue Them, the rest won't matter. That's our most important task now—to help Homesmind so that It can help all. We'll send you more shuttles if you call to us, if you decide—"
"—if we have to leave Earth," Anra finished. She could only hope that they would be able to leave their world peacefully, reconciled with the rest of Earth, instead of having to flee while leaving other Earthfolk behind.
"Good-bye," Lydee said. Anra hugged her aunt, then touched Etey's extended hand.
The three skydwellers walked toward the field. Anra wondered if they would ever come back.
PART TWO
SEVEN
Fiella was gazing out at the field. Anra, digging at a weed near her row of lettuce, looked up.
A band of five men was approaching the village. Anra sat back on her heels. The men stopped at the edge of the weedy, fallow field and sat down.
"What can they want?" Fiella asked, careful to speak aloud so that the strangers would not overhear her thoughts. The village had encountered another small group of wanderers a month earlier. That violent meeting had cost the villagers several injuries before the group had been driven away. Anra's throat tightened as she remembered that battle. They should have been able to drive off the strangers easily, yet much of their strength had been drained by their efforts to protect other villagers, who had not seemed to care whether they lived or died in the fight.
The Minds were failing; Their Net had grown weaker during the past months. It was still possible to draw on some of Their power, but many villages, Anra knew, had become isolated, unable even to communicate with nearby settlements, for the Minds needed most of Their energy to maintain Themselves. Luret and Wiland still roamed Earth in one of the shuttlecraft, and they had sensed weak Nets and apprehensive thoughts everywhere they had gone. Even the villages that had tentatively accepted their visits before no longer welcomed them.
Homesmind, clinging to the Minds with all Its strength, no longer spoke. Anra was sure It would have sent the village a message if Lydee and her companions had been successful in their mission; Its silence had to mean that they were failing.
She could sympathize with Homesmind's dilemma. If It remained to help the Minds, It would lose many of Its own people to dreaming and even the final escape of death. If It let them go, or fled with them, the Minds would die. All this time, the stranger comet had still not spoken to Homesmind, and every day of that silence made it seem more threatening.
The strangers were still watching them. Paeter and Gennon came out of the boys' hut, followed by Kierlus and Jaan. "What are they doing?" Gennon asked, pointing at the band.
"Waiting," Fiella said. "Their minds are closed. Maybe they're afraid. They might want to ask us if they can stay here."
Kierlus scowled. "Then why don't they call to us?" The tall boy scratched at his mousy hair. "If they got a good look at this village," he went on, "they wouldn't want to stay. They could tell the rest of Earth that we're paying for our sins." Paeter poked Kierlus in the ribs with an elbow, motioning to his friend to be quiet.
Anra stood up. "We'll have to go to them and find out what they want. If they won't touch our minds, we'll have to use words."
"Too risky," Paeter said.
"Not if we all go together." Anra put a hand on her knife. "We can fight if we have to—there are only five of them. And they might mean no harm. We have to let them know that they're welcome."
"You want to take too many chances," Paeter said.
"Chances! We run more of a risk as we are. If we don't accept people willing to listen to us, we'll remain vulnerable. Numbers mean strength and the chance to reach out to others."
Paeter folded his arms. "You might be right. Their village could have sent them. We don't even know how many might be calling out to us."
"If any were," Kierlus objected, "surely Wiland and Luret would have known."
"Not if they were too far from such places," Anra replied.
Kierlus strode forward. "We were fools to stay here," he shouted. Anra stepped back, craning her neck as she gazed into the tall boy's round face. "We should have left with the skydwellers. Even Rulek saw there was no reason to stay."
"And how would the rest of Earth fare then?" Anra sighed. "We might be needed."
Their voices had drawn Barla to the doorway of Anra's hut, which all the girls shared now. Barla hurried outside, followed by Viya and Riene.
"Do you want the strangers to see us arguing?" Paeter asked. Kierlus looked down, flushing.
"Well." Anra put her hands on her hips. "Let's decide which of us should go."
"Shouldn't we all go?" Gennon said, pointing his chin and trying to look brave.
"No. We might scare them off."
Viya's brown eyes widened. "Isn't that the point?" the blond girl asked.
"Not if they mean to be friendly." Anra turned tojaan. "You'd better wait here." The black-haired boy's new mustache made him look uncharacteristically fierce; the sight of him might seem threatening. "And you, too," she said to the three girls standing behind Fiella. Barla sometimes had too quick a temper, while Viya could be slow to act. "If anything goes wrong, come to us then." She was looking at Riene as she spoke; she could trust the violet-eyed girl and Jaan to act quickly if necessary and to look out for Barla and Viya. Kierlus might complain at times, but his strength was good to have in a fight. The last battle had taught her something about all of her friends.
"Let's go, then," Paeter said. He and Fiella led the way as Anra followed with Kierlus and Gennon. The strangers, still watching, did not move.
All the fields lay fallow; after the last harvest, nothing had been planted and only a few people still tended gardens. The oven where they had once baked their pottery was cold now; the looms on which the village had woven its cloth had clattered into silence. Even the trellises of the vineyard were neglected. The shuttlecraft synthesizers gave them everything they needed; the village was no longer a home but a way station, a place to wait. There was no need to tend it; they all knew that they would have to leave it eventually.
That had been a hard thing to accept. Even the young people, who had grown up knowing that they might someday wish to live among skydwellers for a while, had found it difficult. Homesmind had tried to ease them by showing them images of the new comet It had seeded. Already the giant trees on that world were growing, though they were still saplings compared to the massive ones on Homesmind's own world. Inside the roots of the new comet, a green landscape dotted by lakes and threaded by rivers had formed. It would be a pleasant home, and Homesmind had taken care to seed it with plants and animals like Earth's own. Silver pillars and crystal columns, along with a hidden network of nerves and lattices throughout the comet, would house the Minds. Anra clung to that vision; it was the only hope they could offer to the waiting strangers. The men might need such a vision when they saw what the village had become.
The men were staring at them silently as they approached. They all wore loincloths and beads, and two of them had braided their black hair. One man in blue beads was beardless; Anra could now see that he was a boy. All of them were thin, with protruding ribs; she wondered when they had last eaten.
As the young people came nearer, one man gripped his knife; another clutched a spear. Paeter tensed, his hand at his waist near his own knife. The boy sitting with the group brushed back a lock of shaggy black hair that had fallen over his dark eyes. His hand was shaking.
"Why have you come here?" Paeter asked.
"Have you already lost your mindspeech?" the man holding the spear said.
"No," Paeter replied, "but we'll share our thoughts in words for now."
"Afraid?" The man sneered.
"Cautious," Anra said. But the villagers rarely mind-spoke even among themselves now; their unhappiness and sense of futility, deepened by their idleness, had made thoughts often too painful to share. They were all growing more solitary.
"Your fields aren't planted," the man said, "and I see no herds."
"We've freed most of our animals," Anra replied, "except for the dogs and cats. And there are still a few chickens and pigs."
"How do you feed yourselves, then?"
"We have enough." She would not try to explain the synthesizers. "Some of us tend gardens. I was going to dig up my lettuce today and plant beans." That much, at least, she could tell them. They might only be looking for food.
The man stood up slowly; his companions rose with him. The boy stood a little apart from them, his eyes fixed on the man holding the spear. "Won't you open your minds to us?" that man said.
Anra frowned. The strange boy glanced at her quickly, but she could not read the expression in his narrowed eyes. "Why should we?" she asked.
"How else can we trust you? We've traveled far to come here." The man threw down his spear as the others held out their hands, palms open. Their walls were still up; Anra hesitated.
"Unveil your own thoughts first," Paeter said.
"Oh, no. How do we know your intentions? We've heard tales of this place, of how the skydwellers who come here have mutilated their own bodies and have made lifeless, barren shells of them. How do we know that won't happen to us?"
"No one will hurt you," Paeter said.
"Then let us see that." The man smiled, showing yellow teeth.
Anra glanced at Paeter. The men would not lower their shields unless she and her friends did so first. Slowly, she opened her mind as Paeter also lowered his wall.
"No," the strange boy suddenly cried out. Anra struggled; he had walled her in. She shattered the barrier with one mental thrust. A spear of pain shot through her; she fell to the ground, arms out, and rolled to her knees. Paeter was gazing at his arm in shock; a long, red stain was spreading over his sleeve.
The band's leader had picked up his spear again. Another man slashed at Kierlus with his knife, barely missing him; the tall boy threw him aside. Anra lashed out at another as he tried to grab her hair; Fiella knocked him away with a whip of light.
Gennon writhed on the ground; blood trickled from his nose. Another knife slashed at Anra, barely missing her face, and an invisible claw gripped her skull, trying to crush it. A band tightened around her throat; she snapped it, then threw up her shield. More energy flowed into her wall; someone else was trying to protect both her and Paeter. The strange boy was crouching; his hand was on his knife, which was still sheathed.
Kierlus had rushed to Gennon's defense, shielding his friend with his mind. Fiella's face was white; she was now taking the brunt of the mental assault. She screamed, and her rage became a disembodied claw. The man with the spear shrieked as the claw tore at his chest.
The three other men were backing away. They lifted themselves suddenly and flew quickly toward the distant mountains. Anra stumbled to her feet.
Riene and Barla were flying toward them over the field, with Viya and Jaan close behind. They had frightened the men off; the strangers would have found it too hard to fight them all. Anra's head throbbed. Kierlus quickly lunged past her and grabbed the strange boy, binding him with his mind.
Paeter suddenly collapsed. Riene hurried to him, lending her strength to his in order to stanch the flow of blood from his arm.
Anra went to Fiella. The man with the spear lay facedown, his hand still clutching his weapon. The red-haired girl glared at him; the wave of anger still flowing from her was nearly drowning out Anra's own thoughts. "Why doesn't he get up?" Anra said.
"He can't. He's dead." Fiella began to shake. "I'm not sorry." She covered her face.
"Too bad you didn't kill this one, too," Kierlus said, gripping his prisoner tightly. The stranger tried to twist away. "Of course, he might be able to tell us a few things. If he refuses, we can tear the answers out of him. He can't shield himself against all of us, and we won't have to be concerned about how much damage we do to his mind."
"Stop it," Anra said. "He didn't do anything."
"Didn't do anything!"
"He was trying to shield Paeter and me during the fight. He even tried to warn me and protect me before we let down our walls, but I was too foolish to see it."
Riene had torn a piece of cloth from her tunic and was binding Paeter's injured arm. The others sat down as Viva went to Fiella. Fiella seemed calmer now, but her face was still pale and her mouth twitched slightly. Kierlus released the prisoner, watching him suspiciously as if expecting him to escape. The boy sat down; Kierlus remained standing, on guard.
"Your group came here to kill us," Anra said. "You lured us out here and tricked us into opening our minds. What did you think you'd gain?"
"I didn't want to do it," the boy answered. "I tried to talk them out of it before we came here."
"Don't lie," Gennon said. "We can easily find out if you're telling the truth."
"I know." He lifted his head, looking directly at Anra. "Can anyone hide the truth?" He turned his head, looking up at Kierlus. "Sit, if you like. I won't run away—there's nowhere for me to go." The tall boy folded his arms, but remained standing. "I tried to protect some of you with a wall."
"You could have fought with us," Kierlus said.
"And betray my own companions?" The boy turned toward Anra again. "That I couldn't do. I only wanted to prevent death." His face hardened. "Surely your ordeal should have taught you how to protect yourselves without lashing out. That's what I expected you to do when I threw my own wall around you, but instead, you attacked. How did you ever endure your ordeal?"
Anra said, "We don't have that custom."
The boy shook his head, clearly surprised.
"Why are you here at all?" Anra went on. "Why aren't you in your own village?"
"There is no village now."
"What happened to it?" she said more gently.
"First, our Merging Selves left this life. Knowing that our world would end, they couldn't bear to live, and they called out to God, Who mercifully took their souls." The boy paused. "Our Net was weak after that, and we began to fight. Some of my people believed that if we purged ourselves completely of sin, our world would be restored to us. Then a dying woman spoke to us and said that she heard God calling to us, telling us that this cycle was ending and that we would become part of a final unity. Some thought she spoke the truth and others thought she was mad. Each group began to seek the death of the other." He bowed his head. "Now many of them are in the next world, where it's not possible to sin any more, so I suppose they've found out who was right. My companions and I could not decide between them, so we fled."