Authors: Pamela Sargent
"I'm sorry," Harel said. "Silla and I have had our arguments about these matters. She still wishes everything could be as it was before the skydwellers came."
"She spoke some truth," Anra said. "We do depend on the skydwellers. We use many of their tools, and it would be hard to give them up. But there must be ways for Earth to learn from the skydwellers without becoming entirely like them."
Harel sighed. "I don't know." He paused. "Come into our house, child. I'll show you where you can sleep tonight."
"I'll sleep in the shuttle."
"But you're welcome here."
"I know you don't want me here. I don't think Silla really wants me to stay and there's no more to say to one another." She got up, turning away from his sad eyes. "Good-bye, Harel."
Anra sat inside the shuttle, gazing absently at the village as the sky grew darker. A few young people were leading a herd of goats down the slope; men and women tilled their jugs at the spring, then hastened to their homes for their evening meal. Some soared through the air; others, more cautious, made their way up along the paths on foot.
A small, shadowy form with sticks for arms was floating toward her; it landed and the sticks dropped against its sides. She pressed the door; it slid open as the light inside the craft shone on Brun.
—Do you want to come inside?— she asked.
He shook his head, then adjusted his crutches under his arms. His upper body was sturdy and muscular, but that only made his legs look even thinner. She jumped out and sat down next to the runners as he lowered himself to the ground awkwardly, ignoring the outstretched hand she offered.
—Why did you come here?—
—To see you. I'm curious. My mother says that I'm too curious—
—I know she's not happy I'm here—
—Silla told me once that she gave you up easily, because she couldn't touch your mind and form a bond with you. Only when she came here and became pregnant with me did she weep. She didn't want to give me up, too. It's true, isn't it?—
—That the cometdwellers can heal you?— she said, catching his thoughts. —Of course. It would be a simple task for them—
—The skydweller Lydee told me that when she first saw me. I didn't believe her at first. Have you seen such a thing happen?—
—No— she admitted. —But the cometdwellers do harder things than that. Lydee can live for a hundred cycles and still look as she does now. And I was born a solitary, and now I touch thoughts—
The boy smiled. —I felt sorry for you when Silla and Harel first told me about you. Now I don't know what to think. Your mind is much like mine—
—Would you want strong legs, Brun?—
—Of course— His thoughts were forceful.
—You could come back with us—
—But then I couldn't live here— He sighed. —Once, I told myself that God had a reason for crippling me. I'm treated like everyone else here. It's my mind that matters, not my body. But when Lydee told me I could walk without crutches, I began to doubt. Sometimes I wish she hadn't told me. She felt sorry for me. Even when she tried to share her thoughts, the pity was always there and it made me feel sorry for myself. Now some of the people here have started to pity me, too—
Brun suddenly lifted himself with his mind. Carefully, he set his feet on the ground and took a few steps, arms out to balance himself. —You see, I can walk without crutches if I concentrate. My mind can move me for a while— The strain was showing on his face; he sat down quickly.
Anra restrained herself, determined not to show the pity Brun despised. —I began to wonder why I was born like this— the boy continued. —Now I wonder about other things. Silla thinks I wonder too much. That's why I stayed with Urran when my parents were gone, because Urran is asking questions, too—
—What kinds of questions?— Anra asked.
—You heard him. About whether our world is ending. About the call he hears—
—When you touch his mind, do you hear it, too?—
Brun glanced at her. —No. I only know that he hears it, or thinks he does. The other Merging Selves say it's only part of his own mind he hears. That's why he's separate from them now. They can't have his delusions affecting them and our village's Net. But Urran claims that those who open their minds fully will hear the voice of God—
—If it were really the voice of God, wouldn't the Minds hear it too?—
— The Ones called Minds drift. Our powers wax and wane— Brun was silent for a moment. —But if it were a real voice, then others would hear it, too—
—The old man did claim that others far away have—
—Other old ones. Others who are close to death—
She thought of Cerwen —Brun, I must ask you this. Will you come back with us?—
—I cannot—
—It isn't just so that you can be healed. I've touched your mind now and see that you question the world. The skydwellers can teach you a lot. Here, they'll only tell you to accept everything without staining your mind with doubt—
—I must go now— He stood up slowly. —Silla and Hard are calling to me—
—Brun, listen. If you change your mind, reach out to me through the Minds' Net, and we'll come back for you—
—I can't leave my home— Brun adjusted his crutches. —-Good-bye, Anra. I don't think we'll see each other again— He hobbled toward the mountainside.
It was night by the time Lydee and Marellon returned to the shuttle. Anra could see that they were discouraged, even without touching their minds; Marellon was scowling, while Lydee looked weary.
"You're here," Lydee said as she settled into her seat. "I thought you might still be with your parents."
Anra shook her head, unwilling to speak of that.
"It's just as well," Marellon said. "We've been asked to leave. We were also told by the Merging Selves that if they sense another faltering of the Minds, they will send us no more separate selves and will refuse to have any contact with us. They think it's a warning. Fools."
"A warning of what?" Anra asked.
"That they've been wrong to deal with us. That they'll all become separate selves unless they live as Earthfolk always have. They think that God may take the Minds from us otherwise."
"We were making a little progress, just a little," Lydee murmured. "But now they sense the disturbance in the Minds, and the old ones are there to remind them that when old ways were followed, all was well. And the Minds say nothing to contradict them." She leaned back as the craft began to lift.
The three sat inside the lighted vessel, seats turned toward one another, eating a late meal. Outside the dome, the starry sky was hidden by the thick branches of trees. Lydee, not wanting to return to the village right away, had set the shuttle down in a small grove northeast of the mountain range.
Anra finished her protein cakes, following them with fruit, while Marellon drank wine; the beverage was beginning to dull his thoughts, which seemed to be the effect he wanted. Lydee was barely eating at all. She lifted her head and stared at Anra for a few moments. "I'm sorry things didn't go well with you and your parents," she said at last.
"Hard seems kind enough," Anra said, trying to sound unconcerned. "But I think he would try to be kind to anyone. Brun came to see me afterward, by the shuttle."
Lydee looked pained. "That poor boy."
"He doesn't think of himself that way. He hates pity."
"His parents are needlessly cruel to leave him crippled. They brought him up to believe that nothing could be done for him. Silla was angry with me when I told her that it wasn't so."
"Brun can decide for himself what he wants," Anra said. "I asked him to return with us, and he refused."
"He would have to leave what he knows and go to a place he doesn't really understand. You can't ask a child to make that kind of decision. Silla and Harel should have made it for him."
"He's adjusted," Marellon said. "The people there treat him as they would any other child. He might be afraid to change. And I've touched Silla's thoughts on the matter." He tugged at his beard. "One of her sisters lives with a skydweller and the other is one herself. And she has a daughter born a solitary. She knew that she could have sent Brun to us, but she hid the knowledge from herself and from him. He was another warning, you see—a last chance for her to return to old ways. So she left him as God intended him to be, and her next two children were healthy. I suppose that must seem like proof that she was right."
Lydee said, "That's superstition." Marellon shrugged.
"When I first met Brun," Anra said, "he was with an old man called Urran."
Lydee drummed her fingers against her armrest. "I know of Urran. I was told he's deluded. The other Merging Selves have separated their minds from his."
"He says he hears a distant voice. Then, when he looked into my mind, he said it might be the voice of the stranger comet, that God was speaking through it and that a cycle was ending." Anra leaned forward, resting her arms on her legs. "Cerwen heard a voice before he died, and said a cycle was ending."
"It can't be the voice of that comet," Lydee responded. "If it were, Homesmind would have heard whatever it was saying, unless—" The woman's light-brown face paled slightly. "Unless it is speaking through a channel Homesmind cannot touch."
And perhaps it is
, Homesmind said inside all of them.
I have considered that.
Anra was suddenly afraid. The air seemed cold around her and she shivered. A vision rose before her; she was standing by the village's river, gazing at the opposite bank, where thousands of people stood in front of a field of tents. They were carrying spears and knives and their minds burned with hatred. It was time for them to end the lives of those who had betrayed Earth by leading it into doubt and change.
"I see what is coming," Anra cried out.
Marellon grabbed her arm. "No. You see only my memories of the past, when all of Earth wanted to destroy our village. Thousands came for us, but we resisted, and won that battle. That's over."
"I wonder if it is," Lydee replied.
They remained in the grove for four days. Lydee clearly wanted solitude for a while, and Marellon was content to leave her to her own thoughts. They were reluctant to return, Anra knew, for they would have to tell the village that the mountain folk now feared them more than ever.
Anra was growing impatient. She woke up early on the fifth day, prepared for more long hours of distracting herself with the shuttle's library and games while Lydee communed with Homesmind and Marellon explored the countryside. The two had to sense her impatience, but she was afraid to display it openly; she would have had to explain why she was so anxious to get back. Her cheeks grew warm as she thought of the reason. Was Rulek missing her? Or was he still mourning the girl he had lost? In spite of her feelings for Rulek, she feared so strong a love, which could engulf a mind completely.
The shuttle door suddenly slid open; Marellon signaled to her from outside the craft. She crept past the sleeping Lydee, and Marellon caught her arm as she hopped out.
—Follow me— he said, floating up into the air; she lifted herself as he soared away from the grove. They glided, riding the warm currents until Marellon dipped down toward a brook.
They landed under a willow. —Get a fire going— he said. —I'll catch some fish—
She grinned, already hungry. As she gathered wood, Marellon stretched out along the bank, letting his arms trail in the water as he waited for the fish to swim by. It was easy enough to lure them with one's mind, but Marellon made a sport of it, drawing them near with mental tendrils, then releasing them before trying to catch them with his hand. He had caught two and lost four others by the time the fire was burning and the rocks she had placed around it were hot.
Marellon scaled the fish with his knife, cut them open, removed the entrails and fins, then wrapped them in wet leaves. Lyclee would not have been able to bear the sight; fishing was as abhorrent to her as hunting, and she had never really understood why the villagers could not restrict themselves to fruits, grains, and vegetables while taking their protein from the shuttle's synthesizers.
Anra placed the fish on the rocks, directing the heat of the fire there with her mind until the food was done. Marellon devoured his fish. He had already finished and was lying on his back picking his teeth with a bone while Anra was still eating.
—Lydee would be scolding me now— he said. —I've tried to explain to her that I need to be able to feed myself, to know that I can hunt and fish as well as grow things. That synthesizer of hers can make you lazy, make you forget that you're still part of the world and only another one of its creatures—
Anra finished her fish and licked her fingers.
—Feel better now?— he asked. —I know you've been mulling over something—
—It's nothing— she replied, sorry he had reminded her of her dilemma.
—I suppose you want to get back to that new friend of yours, the boy you found—
She hid her thoughts quickly.
Marellon sat up, leaning on one elbow. —So that's it. You miss that boy—
"I don't miss him," she answered with her voice. "I only feel bad about leaving so soon. I mean, he's just arrived, and I—"
"Call to him, then."
"Oh, I don't want to pester him. Anyway, he's not used to speaking to someone at a distance through the Minds." She wiped her hands on her tunic. Marellon was smiling; she felt as though he was laughing at her. She looked down and began to poke at the fire with a stick.
"Don't look so hurt, Anra. He's someone different. It's natural to be attracted to someone unfamiliar."
"Is that why you love Lydee?"
"It might be part of it. Oh, I didn't like her at all in the beginning. Her mind was alien and her body made me think of a machine. I thought I was repelled by her. Later, I realized that I was only fighting my feelings and refusing to give them their true name. Maybe you're fighting yours, too."
Anra draped her arms over her knees. "You gave up a lot for Lydee."
"Did I? It doesn't seem that way to me now. Oh, I could have settled in another village, I suppose, and had a life like Harel's with a partner and children." He stretched out again. "She gave up a lot, too. Her life on the comet would have been more pleasant than the one she has now. I hope she didn't give up her old life for nothing." He paused. "There were barriers between us even after we began to wander Earth together. There were a lot of Earth's ways still in me and much of the comet people in her. Somehow, we kept our bond strong, even though cometdwellers don't easily pledge themselves to only one love. Now I wonder if our bond is growing weaker. She can still return to the comet. She's wondering now if she should."