Eye of the Comet (10 page)

Lydee jumped up and ran after Reiho. The wild grass brushed against her legs as she passed. She recalled the groomed, orderly gardens of Home and longed for her cave. Homesmind had abandoned her; It had not even fought Earth’s Mindcores for her. She screamed through her link, demanding her rescue. How could these people live like this? Even Daiya, who could have found a refuge on the comet, had chosen this world. The Earthfolk would never understand what Lydee had lost.

Reiho was inside the shuttle, staring at the panels. As she climbed inside, he slapped a hand against the ship.

“It won’t take off, ” he said.

“You knew it wouldn’t.”

He looked up at her; his eyes revealed his rage. His anger shocked her; this place would unbalance them completely.

“Yes, I’m angry,” he said, picking up her thoughts. “They’ve given up, haven’t they? I wanted to strike out at all of them.” He took a deep breath. “It’s all right. I didn’t want Daiya to see me this way — I was afraid I’d frighten her.”

“She must have sensed how you felt.”

“I suppose she did. I can’t hide much from her. We’d better go back. She might worry.”

She helped him out of the seat. As they climbed out of the shuttle, he took her arm. “I’m your mentor. I should have protected you instead of letting you come here. I might have come alone.”

“It’s better that we’re together. We’ll be braver that way, won’t we?”

He gripped her elbow as they began to climb the hill.

9

  — You must eat — Daiya said, waving a packet of food in front of Lydee. — And you’ve had no water —

  — I can live without food for some time —

  — You’ll weaken yourself. You’ll be of no use then. You have to maintain your strength —

Lydee accepted the package grudgingly and bit into a fruit bar. Daiya glanced toward the corner of the hut where Reiho lay on the mattress, his eyes closed. Rays shone through the openings under the roof; a band of light covered the man’s chest.

  — He is still in his trance — Daiya thought. Reiho had been lying in the corner for a night and most of the day.

  — He’s afraid to wake up — Lydee responded. — He can dream of the comet and imagine this place is the dream —

  — Poor Reiho. Even I can’t tell whether it’s this world he fears or his own reactions to it. But his former self was strong, and some of that strength is in him —

  — You can awaken him, Daiya. I’m sure you know a way to penetrate his barrier —

  — I’ll let him be. I don’t want to feel his pain when he opens his eyes and knows that he’s still here, not yet. Sometimes a long sleep can heal the mind —

Lydee finished her food and stood up. — You’re going into the village — Daiya continued.

  — Cerwen told me I could. It’s probably time I did —

  — I see that you also want to go alone. Be careful, Lydee. There are many who still won’t welcome you —

  — I’m aware of that —

* * *

The sky was blue and unclouded; a warm breeze was blowing from the south. Several adults were in the fields, harvesting wheat. Tied bundles of grain lay on the ground as stooping figures, bending in unison, slashed with long curving blades.

In the center of the village, small groups had gathered to practice mindcrafts. A flower weaver was making wreaths for a few young people, binding the flowers with her mind, then dropping each wreath onto the head of a boy or girl. Others pointed as a dog passed them. It was walking on its hind legs and then bowing to them at its master’s command. A few tables held bottles of wine; a few bottles floated toward outstretched hands as thirsty villagers passed.

Lydee descended the hill, suddenly aware of what the villagers had lost. Once, she supposed, they had done their tasks and played their games with joy, following their destined route through life, secure in their beliefs. The Merging Selves had taught and guided them; young people had looked forward to the time when they would live as their parents had. They had probably known peace as they aged, drawing closer to one another, believing that one day their souls would leave them to merge with the entity they called God or the Merged One.

Now their lives were only habit. They did what they had to do as if they were machines set into motion. They grew their food only because they had to eat, and seemed to take no pleasure in its cultivation. The gardens and vines near their houses grew fruit and vegetables, but few flowers. They clung to life because they were afraid to die, not knowing what judgment awaited them. Occasionally someone’s mental shield would slip, showing Lydee the hollowness inside before the mind closed in on itself once more.

Daiya had given them knowledge of a world that traveled among the stars, and of the Mindcores that their ancestors had built and they had forgotten. They would have preferred certainty and ignorance.

She had sensed two familiar minds; one called to her. Lifting herself, she flew toward the riverbank at the edge of the village and landed near the water.

Luret glanced at her and smiled; Marellon nodded. They were naked; their freshly washed clothes hung suspended in the air, drying. The girl’s skin was pink; Marellon was pale everywhere except for his light-brown hands, neck, and face. Several paces from them, two women were gathering water in buckets; their minds were closed, and they avoided looking at Lydee. Six old people sat under a tree, communing silently.

A dark-haired young man had come down to the river. Luret watched him as he filled his bucket; the corners of her mouth turned down. He gazed at her briefly before turning away.

  — I’ve seen his face before — Lydee thought; his black eyes were familiar.

  — You must have seen it in my mind — the Earthgirl said. — His name is Wiland IeuaGeve. Once we spoke of being partners, but we made no pledge — Lydee saw the rest before Luret closed her mind. She loved the young man, but Wiland had refused to commit himself to one whose mind held so much of Daiya’s accursed wisdom. Luret still believed that Wiland loved her in spite of it. Lydee felt uncomfortable. These people seemed incapable of satisfying their physical needs without creating some elaborate emotional structure. Touching other minds, she thought, should have shown them how simple love was.

Marellon was staring at her. His face reddened and he turned away as if wanting to hide himself.

  — Don’t be shy — Lydee said. — We wear few garments on the comet and don’t hide our bodies — His mind released the suspended clothes and they fell in a heap beside him.

  — You wear a silver suit here — Luret said. She reached for Lydee’s hand, pinching the skin. — And your skin isn’t even real skin. You’re completely covered. And you have added more clothes to all of that — She was laughing as she pulled at Lydee’s sleeve.

  — I wear these clothes only to look more like you —

  — You hate your bodies so much that you’ve added things to them — Marellon picked up his tunic and pants and pulled them on, throwing Luret’s clothes to her. — I thought that you might not care to look at mine —

  — We don’t hate our bodies. We only make them stronger and more durable —

  — If you are so strong, why must you wear a silver covering? — His thoughts bore a challenge.

  — It’s only for protection — she replied. — I don’t wear it on the Wanderer —

  — Then why must you wear it here? Do you think anyone here can harm your body? I can sense your strength. And your mindpowers can guard you as well —

  — I’m not invulnerable, Marellon —

  — It isn’t your body you have to guard, it’s your mind. That’s where you would be harmed —

Lydee frowned. — You’re assuming that someone would try to harm me —

Marellon shrugged. — I’ve seen the thoughts of some. You think that your silver suit protects you, but it might only make you more careless. You should consider that, skydweller —

His argument made sense, she realized. She would have to learn to rely on this world’s tools instead of her own.

She pulled off her tunic quickly, then took off her long pants. Turning toward the river, she opened her suit, peeling it from her skin until it lay in a shiny heap at her booted feet. Luret pointed at the boots and giggled. Lydee pulled on her clothes again, picked up the suit, folded the thin fabric, and thrust it into one of her deep pockets.

  — You look more like us than I had thought — Marellon said. He was holding an image other in his mind, but he was exaggerating some of her features, making her breasts rounder and her hips wider. Something else was at the edges of his thoughts; she sensed a wave of warmth before he put up his shield.

She sat down, trembling slightly. She would sweat and pick up dirt; she would wallow in this world, drawing closer to its minds and shedding the comet’s civilization as she had shed her suit.

Luret’s mind danced. — You made me think of a snake shedding its skin —

  — Well, if I’m going to stay here, I’d better adapt as quickly as possible —

The two young people sat down near her. They smelled of reeds and the river; the odor was not unpleasant. She gazed at the river, studying its strong currents, thinking of the tamer river on the comet with its clear waters and tended shores.

  — I feel sorry for you — Marellon thought.

She looked at him, surprised by his compassion.

  — You are losing the world you knew — he went on, — and are trapped here, yet you aren’t giving in to your fear. I feel you battling against it, but you hold it at bay. I try to think of myself trapped on your world, and I don’t know if I could be as brave —

  — I’m not brave. I’m trapped and trying to make the best of it — She gazed into his eyes, moved by his thoughts. His face seemed more attractive to her now; that realization suddenly embarrassed her. She lowered her eyes. — I was born here, after all. Maybe that makes it easier for me —

Luret turned her head, as if another mind had called to her. Harel KaniDekel was walking toward them. He stopped a few paces away and raised a hand, regarding Lydee with his blue eyes. — Greetings, Lydee AnraBrun, and welcome — He came nearer and sat down. Kindness and good will flowed from the man, but she also sensed a dark spot in his mind.

  — Greetings — Lydee said.

His mind reached out to hers. — I see some of Daiya’s spirit in you, and also some of her solitude — He was holding a memory of a young boy and a young girl sitting on a hill near the village, their minds bound in love. — She loved her solitude more than she loved me —

Lydee knew that wasn’t true; Harel had rejected Daiya. His head jerked up. She had forgotten to shield her thoughts properly, and they had turned into a blade, stabbing at the truth inside him. She cursed herself silently for her carelessness.

  — She had become something different — the man said. — I would have bound her too tightly. I couldn’t question things as she did. I couldn’t live with her apart from the village. But I am still her friend — Harel had opened his mind almost completely, and she sensed his past self, the boy who had accepted the world without question, who had been undisturbed by doubts. The village’s troubles had scarred him, leaving a dark abyss; without certainty and faith, he was lost.

Lydee, shaken by his thoughts, shielded herself. — You don’t have to defend yourself to me —

  — I have been punished for turning away from Daiya. I give my partner no children, and hide part of myself from her — I, who used to hide myself from no one. I can’t show my love for Silla because she measures it against what I felt for Daiya, but when I withdraw from my partner, she berates me for my lack of feeling —

Their conversation had already revealed too much. Lydee longed to cut it off, but was afraid of offending Harel. She had few enough well-wishers here. — Couldn’t you leave your partner then — she said carefully, — and go to Daiya? —

Luret gasped. Marellon narrowed his eyes.

  — I cannot — Harel murmured. — Silla is my partner. I still care for her. No one would willingly leave a partner. If I can’t love her fully, then I can’t grow to love others and will never be a Merging Self — The customs of his world still bound him, even when he lacked faith in them.

  — That is a cruel custom — Lydee said.

  — It is what we have always done —

  — Why are you telling me this? — She knew almost as much about this man as she had known about her old friends, and perhaps more. She was learning to reach out, as Earth’s Minds had ordered. I have changed, she thought, unable to imagine such an exchange with any cometdweller.

  — I am telling you this, Lydee, because you are like Daiya —

His mind was clear and gentle; she saw why Daiya had cared for him. Harel bowed his head; his mind throbbed with pain. She wanted to ease him, but there was nothing she could do.

Once again, she saw the image of Daiya as a girl forming in his mind; she and the young, beardless Harel were standing in the center of the village, bound to everyone else by strands of light. The villagers had shared their thoughts easily then, before Daiya’s discoveries had brought them separateness.

  — We are not the same — Harel said. — Even some of our Merging Selves too often fall into separateness now —

  — I am sorry — Lydee thought. Taking a deep breath, she lowered all her barriers, reaching out to Harel, Marellon, and Luret, trying not to hold herself back. Through them, she sensed the strands that bound them to the village’s Net, the web that tied them together even when they were lost in solitary musings. But another Mind was hovering over her, a Mind outside the Net; she tensed as It flowed into her.

  — Be at peace — Lydee said, knowing that the thoughts were not her own. — You will pass through your ordeal and live again — As the Mind fled, her doubts returned.

Harel gazed at her with hope. — The Minds have spoken through you —

  — Are you sure? —

  — I am — He rose. — Come with me. It’s time you saw more of our village —

* * *

They made their way along a dirt path between huts, passing vegetable gardens and then a fenced-in area where several pigs were feeding at a trough. A few passersby stared at Lydee silently as they passed; their minds were closed.

Some of the huts were longer and larger than others, big enough to house three or four families. The Merging Selves lived in those, moving from hut to hut as they wished, freer than others from family bonds.

Harel’s hut was next to a chicken coop. Weeds grew along the short path leading to the doorway, and there were chinks in the hut’s bricks. Lydee had noticed such signs of deterioration all along the dirt path, the outer signs of the village’s despair; the smell of the latrines had nearly overpowered her. As they came to the hut’s entrance, Silla hurried outside.

The wave of hostility flowing from the young woman was so strong that Lydee backed away, nearly tripping over a stone. Luret caught her arm, steadying her.

“You want to bring her inside,” Silla shouted, still refusing to mindspeak to Lydee. The sound other voice drew several neighbors to their doorways.

  — She left her world to come here — Harel replied. — And she is your sister. We should try to welcome her —

“Not here. She’s not welcome in our hut.”

  — Silla — Harel held out his arms. Already his mind had clouded as he concealed his inner thoughts from his partner. — She bears you no ill will. We have shared our thoughts, and the wall between her and Earth weakens —

“Listen to me.” A few people had come outside and were now standing near their gardens, watching Silla. “I know why the skydweller and her companion were sent here, and it was not to share their unholy wisdom or to save us. Have they rid us of the wall that surrounds us? Have they brought us together? They have only divided us more. The Merging Selves dither among themselves, unable to act, and the rest of us wait. The Minds speak again, but don’t tell us what to do. Well, I know what we must do now.”