Earthfall (Homecoming) (13 page)

Luet was angry, but not with Elemak. To her, Elemak had become almost a force of nature. Of course he hated Nafai. Of course he would seize on any excuse to hurt him. There was too much history between them now, too much old resentment, too much guilt at Elemak’s earlier attempts to kill his brother. You didn’t manage the situation by trying to change Elemak. You managed it by finding ways to avoid provoking him.

You did this, Luet said to the Oversoul. It was your idea. You pushed it. You maneuvered Nafai and me and the parents of the other children to play these little games with time.

You just didn’t count on them waking up, is that it?

My babies are having trouble breathing. They can hardly eat because swallowing takes so long they’re gasping for another breath by the time it’s done. We’re dying, and you tell me everything will work out?

Well, that makes me feel so much better.

You set it up. You put us in the situation.

Oh, no, we won’t be on our own on Earth. We’ll have the Keeper of Earth to look out for us. And if she has half the love and care for us that you have, we’ll all be dead within a year.

That’s nice to hear.

No, we mustn’t have clouded judgment, as we pant to get enough oxygen, as we watch our children getting sluggish and torpid, as we think of our husband twisted and bent, his hands and wrists garotted with cords….

So went Luet’s conversations with the Oversoul, hour after hour. She knew that when her rage was spent she would fall silent, would reconcile herself to the situation, would even, in the end, probably agree that things had worked out for the best. But they hadn’t worked out yet. And if this was the best, it was hard to imagine what the worst—or even the next best—might have been. That’s the one thing that could never be known: what
would
have happened. People spoke as if it could be known. “If only that alarm hadn’t gone off.” “If only Nafai had not had such a smart mouth as a boy”—that was Nafai’s own favorite, Luet well knew, as he took the blame for everything on himself. But nothing is ever caused by just one thing, Luet knew, and removing or changing one cause does not always make the effect go away, or even make things better.

I will someday stop feeling this deep, unreasonable rage at the Oversoul, but not now, not with the sight of Nafai in such cruel bonds so fresh in my mind, so alive in my nightmares. Not with my children gasping after each swallow. Not with bloody-hearted Elemak in control of the people on this ship.

If only we had all withstood the Oversoul and not held school during the voyage.

In her heart she raged; ranted at the Oversoul; invented long, viciously cutting speeches that she knew she could never deliver to Elemak, to Mebbekew, to all who supported them. But to the others she showed a calm, impassive face. Confident, unafraid, not even annoyed, as far as she would let anyone else see. She knew that this more than anything else would unsettle Elemak and his followers. To see that she did not seem much worried would worry them; it was the most she could do, little as it was.

They. We. In her own mind, she had taken to thinking of Elemak’s followers and their families as “the Elemaki”—the people of Elemak—and of those who had taken part in the voyage school as “the Nafari.” Normally such endings were used to refer to nations or tribes. But are we not tribes, here on this ship, however few in numbers we might be?

Elemak required the Nafari families to take their meals at the same time in the library, and then he or Meb would escort each family back to their cramped quarters and seal the door. While they were gone, Vas and Obring kept watch. Luet studied them, there in the library during meals. They did not seem really comfortable with their office, but whether that was because of shame or because they simply weren’t confident in their ability to prevail in a physical confrontation she had no way of knowing.

Some of the Elemaki women made feeble attempts at conversation in the library during meals, but Luet did not show by facial expression or gesture, and certainly not by word, that she knew they existed. They went away angry, especially Kokor, Aunt Rasa’s younger daughter, who snippily said, “You brought it all on yourself anyway, putting on airs because they used to call you Waterseer.” Since this had nothing whatever to do with the conflict, it was clear that Kokor was merely revealing her own ancient resentment against Luet. It was hard not to laugh at her.

Luet’s silence toward the Elemaki women was not motivated by pique. Luet knew perfectly well that they had had nothing to do with the men’s decisions, that Meb’s wife Dol and Elemak’s wife Eiadh were deeply mortified at what their husbands were doing. She also knew, however, that if she ever let them assure her of their sympathy, if she ever let them cross over the invisible boundary between Elemaki and Nafari, it would make them feel
much
better. In fact, it might make them feel downright comfortable, even
noble
at having extended friendship to Nafai’s beleaguered wife. Luet did not want them comfortable. She wanted them to be so uncomfortable, in fact, that they began to complain to their husbands, until at last the pressure built up so strongly that the others would begin to fear their wives’ displeasure and contempt almost as much as they feared Elemak’s, and Elemak himself would begin to believe that his actions were costing him more in his family than he was gaining in that twisted part of his psyche that held his hatred for Nafai.

Of course, there was always the chance that additional pressure from his wife would merely make Elemak more intransigent. But since snubbing the Elemaki women was the only thing Luet could do, she did it.

The only anomalous thing was the strange way Zdorab and Shedemei were treated. They were definitely being watched, escorted everywhere just like Luet, Hushidh and Issib, and Rasa and Volemak. But in the library, they were not under the same kind of scrutiny. They and their children were encouraged to sit with the Elemaki, and they were allowed to converse freely among themselves.

It led Luet to the inescapable conclusion that the alarm that opened all the suspended animation chambers had not been an accident, that somehow Zdorab had managed to leave not one but two wake-up calls, and the Oversoul had not found the second one. It was not possible that Shedemei had known about this; it was barely believable that Zdorab had known, for hadn’t he joined with them in teaching the children? Hadn’t he been part of the voyage school? Hadn’t his son and daughter grown up along with the other children? What sort of twisted mind did he have, to allow him to accept freely the friendship of the Nafari, and yet know the whole time that his wake-up call would put Nafai’s life in danger and split the whole community worse than ever? No, it was impossible to imagine. Zdorab couldn’t have done it. No one could be so duplicitous, so….

And yet there was Zdorab, sitting with his son, Rokya, next to him, and Meb’s wife Dolya right across. Shedemei, on the other hand, sat apart from the others. Her shame was almost palpable. She kept her daughter Dabya with her, and spoke only when spoken to. She did not look at anyone, keeping her eyes to her plate while eating, and then leaving the room as quickly as possible. Luet longed to ask Chveya or Hushidh to assess the relationships, to find out where Zdorab’s loyalty lay. But she was forbidden to talk to Hushidh, and Chveya, too, was kept isolated from everyone else. Oykib was also isolated from the other children; the two of them had certainly attracted special attention from Elemak.

In the evening of the second day Luet opened the door of her family’s room to find that it was Zdorab knocking. The twins were asleep, breathing rapidly but regularly. The older children—Zhatva, Motiga, and Izuchaya—were not asleep, but they lay on their beds, resting so as to avoid using more oxygen; all of them had been ordered to do this whenever possible, and since they could feel how depleted the oxygen already was, this was one command of Elemak’s that all obeyed readily.

Luet regarded Zdorab wordlessly, waiting for him to speak.

“I have to talk to you.”

She debated closing the door in his face. But that would be to judge him without having heard what he had to say. She stepped back and let him inside. Then she leaned out into the corridor and saw that Vas and Obring were both watching. This was not a clandestine visit, then. Unless those two stout hearts actually had the courage to conspire against Elemak’s express orders.

She closed the door.

“It was me,” said Zdorab. “I know you know it, but I had to tell you myself. Elemak told me that I should say that I couldn’t have removed my wake-up program even if I wanted to, but I could have. And I did want to. Right at the end, as I was being put to sleep, I tried to shout for Shedya and Nyef to stop, to open my chamber, to….”

He could see that his words were having no effect on her. He looked away toward the door. “I couldn’t foresee how things would work out. I just—I thought that Elemak would see it was an accomplished fact. That maybe he’d work out a way to have the other children get the last three years of schooling. Something like that. Your children would have had six and a half years, his would have three and a half. I didn’t—the violence, Nafai tied up like that, and now the life support—running out of air—can’t you get the Oversoul to relent and let half of us go back to sleep?”

So that was what this was about. Elemak and the others were using Zdorab to try to talk her into saving them from the consequences of their own actions.

“You can tell Elemak that when Nafai is untied and put back in control of the ship, he and his people will be free to go back into their suspended animation chamber at any time. Or should I be saying you and
your
people?”

To her surprise, tears almost leapt from Zdorab’s eyes. “I don’t have a
people
,” he said. “I may not even have a wife. Or a son or a daughter.”

So Shedemei hadn’t known. Not that that was a surprise.

“I don’t expect you to feel sorry for me,” he said, wiping his eyes and getting back in control of himself. “I just want you to understand that if I had known—”

“If you had known what? That Elemak hated Nafai? That he wanted him dead? How did you miss that little bit of information, considering that we all saw Nafai covered with blood from Elemak’s last little plot?”

Anger flashed in Zdorab’s eyes. “It wasn’t Elemak with the little plot this time.”

“No, it was the Oversoul,” said Luet. “
And
you. In fact, you managed to take part in conspiracies on both sides.” Then it dawned on her. “Oh, that was the point, wasn’t it?”

“I’m an outsider here,” he said. “Shedya and I aren’t kin to anybody.”

“Shedya is one of Aunt Rasya’s nieces.”

“That’s not a blood relationship, that’s—”

“It’s closer.”

“But not
me
. My son, my daughter, they’re going to be caught up in this family quarrel between Nafai and Elemak no matter what I do. I’m not like Volemak or his sons, I’m not physically strong, I’m not—I’m not much of a
man
the way men are judged. So how could I protect
my
children? I thought that if I could have a good relationship with both Nafai and Elemak—”

“That is not possible,” said Luet. “Especially now, thanks to you.”

“I did what I thought was best for my children. I was wrong. Now neither side trusts me, and my children will pay for that, too. I was
wrong
, and I’m not trying to conceal what I did or how bad it was. But I wasn’t trying to betray you or Nafai. I was doing what I thought was best for my children.”

“Very good,” said Luet coldly. “You have unburdened yourself. I’ve heard you and if I’m ever allowed to speak to anyone but my children again, I’ll be sure to tell everyone that you were motivated entirely by altruistic concern for your children.”

“Mebbekew says you’re a cold one,” said Zdorab.

“And we know what a fine observer of human beings Meb can be.”

“But he’s wrong,” said Zdorab. “You’re not cold, you’re on fire.”

“Thank you for that insight into elemental metaphors for my character.”

“Just remember, Luet. I did you wrong. I know that, and I’m in your debt, deeply and forever. I’m not a dishonorable man by nature. I acted as men like me have always had to act—for survival, as best I understood it. There’ll come some future time when, no matter how much you despise me, you’ll need my help. I’m here to tell you that when that time comes, and when you or Nafai ask me, I’ll do whatever you need.”

“Good. Tell Elemak to untie my husband.”

“Whatever you need that’s within my power. I’ve already asked him to untie your husband. Kokor and Sevet have demanded it. Your oldest daughter spit in his face and called him a eunuch who had to imprison his betters in order to feel like a real man.”

Luet gasped. “Did he hit her?”

“Yes,” said Zdorab. “But she’s all right. Everybody was disgusted at him for it, and he hasn’t gone near her since. For what it’s worth, I think it turned even his own wife against him, to see him hit Chveya like that.”

No doubt that was Chveya’s purpose. “That’s always been Elya’s problem,” said Luet. “He has always attempted to answer words with actions. It might silence the speaker, but it only confirms the truth of what was said.”

“Even you, with your unbending silence—that’s half what the women talk about,” said Zdorab. “And Shedya has joined in your boycott of conversation. Everybody wants Elemak to stop. I thought you’d want to know that. What you’re doing, what Chveya and Oykib have done, even Nafai’s quiet endurance—it’s all a kind of resistance, stubborn and brave, and it makes everyone who’s on Elemak’s side so…so ashamed.”