Venus of Dreams (52 page)

Benzi's mouth twisted. "Once, that was said of the lifespans we have now. Your arguments aren't as good as they usually are, Iris. First, you say that people with indefinitely long lives wouldn't risk death, and then you claim they'd be bored with their lives."

Chen glanced from his bondmate to his son. Benzi had Chen's features and coloring, but the stubborn expression on his face was Iris's.

"I don't know what's the matter with you," Iris said. Her voice had dropped nearly to a whisper. "I came here to tell you good news, and you speak of Habbers. You'd better regain some sense. You think too much about Habs."

"Do you hate Habbers so much?"

"I don't hate them at all, but I keep my distance from them, as you should. I've been given a great opportunity. I could be helpful to you now, but—" Iris glared at Benzi. "I won't have the Administrators distrusting me because of my son's foolishness."

Benzi reached out and clutched her wrist. "Does this mean so much to you?"

"You must see that it does."

"Iris, I have something very important to ask you. Think carefully before you speak." Benzi's face was taut; his throat moved as he swallowed. Chen watched helplessly, frightened by the intensity of his son's gaze. "Would you give it up? If you were offered a chance for something better, would you give it up?"

Iris shook off his hand. "I don't know what you're talking about. What could be better?"

"Mother, just once, will you look at me and really hear what I'm asking you?"

"Why can't you see what I'm saying? I can help you now much more than I could before. If you were still in school, I might be able to get you the best training possible. I could help you rise to a position where you could have some real influence on our work. I know I haven't done as much for you before as I might have, but now I'll finally be in a position where I can make that up to you, and you're saying it doesn't matter."

Benzi seemed to withdraw into his own thoughts. Chen saw that his son was struggling with himself, and longed to comfort him; at the same time, he felt Iris's pain.

"I've been thinking," Benzi said at last. "I've had a lot of time to think, here and when we were trapped below. What you've told me today may make what I'm going to tell you easier to say. You have a new life now, but it's not one I can share—I have my own. What I'm trying to say is that I think it's time I severed my formal bond with you as a son. I'm old enough now to take such a step. It would free you of any obligation to me, and nothing I do could affect you then."

Chen could not believe that he was hearing those words. Iris was very pale; a tiny vein throbbed at her temple. "You can't mean that," Iris said softly.

"Other children have severed bonds with their parents."

"For cause," Chen managed to say. "Have we been such evil parents to you?"

"And how do you think that's going to look?" Iris said angrily.

"No one will blame you," Benzi replied. "We were never like many of the families here. I wasn't with you for most of my earlier years, and we were never as close as we might have been. People will understand, and think we did well to maintain our formal tie for as long as we did. This will be best for all of us."

"Do you think that bond matters?" Iris's hands were fists. "Do you think I won't still be your mother when it's severed? Do you think you won't still be part of my line?" She pressed a fist against her mouth for a moment. "How much pain will you cause me?"

"I was a way for you to reach for what you wanted. You have that now, and I was always a disappointment to you. You can go on without a bond with me, and there can be others in your line. When you're a Linker, you'll surely be given a chance for another child."

"Another child." Iris's voice shook. "Don't speak to me of other children. You didn't have to speak of severing our bond—I could have gone my way while you went along yours without that. But you have to hurt me as much as you can. You have to show me that everything I've done means nothing to you." She stood up. "Very well. You're no longer my son. I won't speak to you again."

She hobbled away along the path, moving as an old woman might.

Chen was about to follow her when he saw Benzi cover his eyes. "I didn't think you had such cruelty inside you," Chen said.

Benzi looked up. "Please believe me when I say I was being kind."

"That wasn't a kind thing you did."

"You'll understand, Chen. I can't say any more. I've said too much already. It's better for Iris this way. It'll be better for you too."

"You're my son, without a bond or with one. You can live on Venus someday. Nothing else matters."

"That still means so much to you?"

"That, and Iris."

Benzi gestured at Chen's bag. "How can you still hope?"

"Do you think I weep for her like a baby? I can't force her to feel more for me. Sometimes, with another woman, I can forget for a time, but I think this way." Chen tapped his skull with one finger. "I'm here. I have a bond with her still. She may come to want me with her again, and I'll be here. If she doesn't, I'll have done all I could and have nothing to regret." Chen was silent for a bit. I've done evil deeds to get here, he thought. I brought death and discord to Iris's household. We both have what we wanted back then.

"I'm sorry, Father."

Chen said, "So you'll do this thing, break your bond."

"Yes."

"Iris and I are bondmates. If you break the bond with her, you break it with me as well."

"I know."

"You've wounded us, son."

"You have other things to think of now. You both have new positions."

Chen shook his head. "I didn't want mine. I must make the best of it."

"Better that the workers have you to speak for them." Benzi clutched Chen's shoulder for a moment. "I wish I could have been the son you wanted."

"You must be what you are." Chen looked up as Benzi rose. "Come to Iris's room with me tonight, and take back the words you said."

"I can't. It's too late. You mustn't think about me now. Farewell, Chen."

Benzi had promised himself that he would not look back, but as he reached the entrance to his residence, he turned.

Chen was walking away along the path. Had his father's eyes met his at that moment, Benzi might have hurried after him, but Chen did not turn around. It was just as well. To plead for forgiveness from his parents now, to go to them and soothe their hurt, would only cause them more pain later, when they at last understood his dream.

You taught me to dream, Benzi thought. You stood on Earth and looked toward this place and dreamed of your own escape. You planted your seed in me. Couldn't you see that I might in turn stand here and gaze elsewhere? That had been his parents' lesson to him—that a dream was worth any price one had to pay.

He gazed up at the dome above and envisioned the ships that might one day move toward distant stars.

Iris forced herself to concentrate. She was again losing track of what Amir was saying to her. She would hardly be a good liaison if she let her mind wander.

On the other hand, when Amir learned that Benzi intended to sever his bond with her, he might have second thoughts about this appointment. A woman with a son who had turned from her might not seem a suitable assistant.

Amir took her arm as they walked along the path; the light above was beginning to fade. His touch unnerved her a little, and she kept her eyes averted from his face as he spoke. His smile had been a little too warm when he greeted her in front of her residence; she had quickly suggested this stroll rather than a meeting in her room, saying that she wanted the exercise. She admitted to herself that she had been afraid of being alone with the Linker.

Since coming to the Islands, she had been cautious about choosing her bed partners. Too many people here did not understand Plains ways, and she had learned to be discreet. Harmless dalliances were tolerated, and she had taken no members of her team as lovers, feeling that this might only complicate their working relationship. Making that decision had been easy, for she had felt no strong desire for any of the men with whom she worked.

Amir was different; she had known that almost as soon as she met him. Part of his attraction had to be that he was a Linker and an Administrator, but his dark, intense eyes had also told her that he was a man who could feel love strongly. She was afraid of that, but even her fear seemed to fuel her desire.

Amir was simply being polite, she told herself; he would be relying on her, and wanted her good will, no more. She was foolish to expect anything else.

"The most important thing for you," he was saying, "is to let the Institute people, both new arrivals and those already here, know that they can trust you, that their complaints won't be ignored or dismissed as insignificant, that the days of treating them as the Project's stepchildren are past. But I'm also hoping you can anticipate any complaints before they become problems. Perhaps we need to arrange more meetings between new arrivals from the Institute and Administrators."

"You Administrators aren't the real problem," Iris replied. "It's the attitude of some of our co-workers, and the Linkers who supervise us. They're snobs, to put it mildly. They don't see a colleague who's been trained, they see a kid who's been plucked from a city street or country village. It's absurd, especially when some of the scornful ones are the children of workers themselves."

"That may be exactly why they're scornful," Amir said, "but don't forget that, whatever their origins, the specialists who grew up here had the benefit of our schools since childhood. They've grown possessive about the Project. They also find it difficult to believe that four or five years at the Cytherian Institute can remedy a flawed or haphazard education, or produce someone who is their equal. Maybe they should learn more about the Institute."

"I'm sure that if they really understood what we went through, and how high the standards are, they'd feel differently. But that isn't enough. Maybe some of the younger people here should be sent to the Institute as students. That might seem superfluous, since they can learn as much here, but it would promote better feeling."

Amir nodded. "It's an idea."

"It's a young school," Iris said. "Its graduates haven't had time to prove their worth. We came here thinking that Islanders didn't concern themselves with a person's background. I suppose we were a little misled by the Islanders who came to the Institute to speak to us, but then, they were the ones who wanted to encourage us. What worries me is that some graduates may get disillusioned, and leave the Islands without doing their best work. Of course, some of the problem might be resolved in time, after Institute people have been here for decades, but in the meantime we'll lose valuable people. If we lose too many, the Project Council may decide that the expense of maintaining the Institute isn't worth it."

Amir was silent.

"Some of this is our fault, as well," Iris went on. "We arrive here all full of enthusiasm and zeal, and quite impressed with our accomplishments, and we expect everyone else to be impressed with them as well. We must be a little hard to take at first."

"Well, I'll be interested in your specific recommendations when you've had time to think things over. Don't, however, neglect your other work. We know you've been useful to Marc Lissi and your team."

She glanced at his shadowed face. "Not so useful," she said, "that he wanted to keep me here."

A smile played about Amir's lips. "Needless to say, Marc has withdrawn that recommendation. Don't you think we've been aware of your work? It's our business to know such things. But Marc's useful as head of your team. He gets results, he allows you all to work in the ways you find most congenial, and that makes up for other shortcomings of character. He might have been thinking of himself when he suggested transferring you, but, in light of recent events, even you must see why he might have worried about you, and at least he had the wit to discern that you might be useful as a liaison of sorts."

Amir linked his arm more tightly through hers; again, she felt flustered. She might have been a young girl taking her first walk with a man.

The spiral was ahead; they would be at the entrance to the residence in a few moments. A few people had gathered on the lawn to enjoy the Island evening; she thought she saw a couple of them glance speculatively from her to Amir. She stopped along the path. "There's something I have to tell you," she said. "You may have second thoughts about giving me this appointment when you hear this. I'll be happy to give you my suggestions anyway, and if you can use them, please do, but you needn't feel that you have to work with me."

"What is it, Iris?" he asked gently.

"My son wants to break his formal bond with me and with his father. I begged him not to, but he's determined to request it." A lump rose in her throat as she remembered Benzi's cold words. "I could protest at a hearing, but that wouldn't win his love back, so I'll have to let him go." She took a breath. "If this is all he wants from me now, I'll let him have it."

Amir suddenly put his arm around her shoulders. "Iris, I am sorry. It must be very painful for you."

She looked up at his face; his eyes were filled with concern. "If this is going to cause you embarrassment, I don't expect to be your assistant. If you have any reason to think—"

"My dear, I feel your sorrow. I know you had to leave him when you were young, and I know you're innocent of cruelty and neglect."

"You're wrong. There were times he needed me, and I wasn't there for him."

"Don't be so hard on yourself. You're not the first parent who has had love returned with ingratitude and rejection. I've seen such separations before—sometimes there was cause, sometimes not. Your son is a young man now, and maybe he wants to assert his adulthood. You and he endured much when you were trapped in your airship, and the ways people react to such dangers can tell them much about themselves. Perhaps he sensed a dependence on you then that he fears, and seeks to free himself of that. It pains me to see you reproach yourself. I've seen your record, and know something of your past, and I know how hard you tried to be a mother to him."