Homesmind (21 page)

THIRTEEN

The men who lived in the hut across from Anra's were building a door. She watched with Brun as their neighbors propped the rectangular piece of wood against the side of their dwelling.

"When will it be finished?" Brun asked.

"Tomorrow," the taller man answered. "Maybe by tonight." His shorter companion shrugged and plucked at his brown beard as he surveyed the door.

Anra had not been surprised by their project. Already many of the huts had curtains of cloth hanging in their doorways; people now called out greetings before entering a dwelling. They were all falling into the ways of solitaries.

She had heard rumors of thefts, food stolen from an empty hut or a piece of cloth unaccounted for; the fact that the shuttles could provide for their needs had not deterred the thieves, who probably enjoyed the novelty of stealing. Without mindpowers, others were unlikely to discover who the thieves were.

Theft was not their only problem. A few nights earlier, Anra's neighbors had drunk too much wine and had fought; it had taken six people to pry the two apart. Now that their thoughts were hidden and unshared, it seemed impossible to control them; they festered until rage released them. Speech alone left too much room for misunderstanding.

"I'll go to the river," Brun said, picking up a bucket. She watched him walk away. His braces, slender wires covering his legs, were concealed by his pants; he no longer needed crutches. The skydwellers had apologized for not being able to do more; they lacked many of their tools and no longer had Homesmind to guide them. Brun had been grateful anyway. He could walk now.

Anra went to her garden and knelt, jabbing at the tiny weeds. Fiella was digging up a few potatoes; she leaned back on her heels, resting one hand on her large belly. Fiella and Paeter's child would be born soon; the hut they shared with Anra and her brothers and sister would be even more crowded. Anra pulled out a weed. Her thoughts were unworthy; she should be happy for her friends.

Fiella suddenly clutched at her abdomen, gazing at Anra with worried eyes. "Not already," Anra said.

"Oh, no." Fiella frowned. "It isn't that. But I can't stop thinking of how those other women here screamed when their children were born."

"You mustn't think of that. Maybe they'll accept skydweller help when they have their next children instead of suffering because they fear some evil spell. Lydee will help you. She'll give you a potion."

"How I wish I had my mindpowers now," Fiella said. "Nenla and Kal used to tell me how easy my birth was for them—they could dampen the pain with their thoughts. Paeter won't even be able to do that for me. Anra, I'm afraid."

"There's nothing to be afraid of."

"We depend too much on the skydweller tools even now. Lots of people say so."

"Perhaps we do. But the skydwellers need us as much as we need them. We still have our world, at least. They've lost theirs." Anra paused. "You'll be helped when your time comes. I'll see to it. I'll make sure there's someone with you. When others see that the skydweller potions don't harm you, they may be willing to seek help, too."

"I hope so."

Anra rested her hands on her knees. Many of the surviving Earthfolk had feared the skydwellers for so long that trust had been slow in coming, but in spite of the differences that still divided them, a fragile bond had begun to form.

The two groups had worked together well enough in the early months, the surviving Earthfolk laboring to plant their fields and build new huts while the skydwellers assisted them with their tools. Survivors had been brought there from every part of Earth to begin new lives; the village was now the home of over ten thousand people. They had been too busy with the tasks of survival to become divided, and they all had a common bond; each group had lost loved ones and a way of life.

Anra and her friends had done their best to bring both groups together, and gradually many of the Earthfolk had come to see the skydwellers as people instead of as the soulless beings they had once despised. But some Earthfolk had become so solitary, because of their grief and the loss of their mindpowers, that they had withdrawn from other Earthfolk as well as from skydwellers.

Tampering with the body was what the Earthpeople feared most. They had all learned that skydwellers could not even have a child without making a receptacle to house the tiny embryo. They knew that the skyfolk had altered their own bodies so much that they would outlive all the Earthfolk and their children even with the little of their magic they had left. Even so, some Earthfolk had begun to seek treatment for ailments once easily healed with the mind, and a few were beginning to learn some of the healing arts from skydwellers, then in turn showing the skyfolk some of the plants and herbs that could aid in healing certain illnesses.

The Earthfolk had managed, however tentatively and doubtfully, to reach out. Now it seemed that the skydwellers were retreating, seemingly lost without the Mind Who had once guided them and cared for them. If skydwellers and Earthfolk could have linked their thoughts somehow, then maybe the skyfolk, who had given Earth all they could, would have found some solace in the link. The sharing of thoughts might have helped them forget the world they had lost; a Mind's guidance might have eased them into their new life.

"Viya's pregnant," Fiella said abruptly, interrupting Anra's reverie.

"How wonderful for her." Anra tried to sound pleased.

"She told me yesterday, but she's afraid, too. She and Jaan were almost ready to ask the skydwellers to put the child in one of their wombs so that she wouldn't have to suffer."

"Maybe she should do that. The skydwellers are having so few children themselves that they could probably find a receptacle for hers. I wouldn't do it myself, but I can see how anyone might want to escape pain." She stabbed at the ground with her trowel.

"Yet you refuse to escape your own pain," Fiella said gently. "Why don't you go to Rulek?"

"I did."

"Months ago, and only to bring him more supplies."

"I waited. He wouldn't speak to me. He stayed out on the lake in a boat and wouldn't come near me. Anyway, what does that matter? I can't think of him now without remembering Olin."

Fiella shook her head. "Do you think Olin would have wanted to see you like this, denying what you feel? You mock Rulek for having a ghost as a partner and talk of how you despise him, but I hear your true feelings in your words. You love him and feel guilt because of it."

"You don't know what I feel. You can't read my thoughts."

"Anra, you can't keep on like this. Go to him or find a partner here, or live without one happily as the skydwellers do."

"I can't go to him. He would only turn me away."

"It hurts me to see you like this. I know how you feel about my child—you wish it were your own." Anra looked up, surprised at Fiella's words. "I don't need my mindpowers to sense that."

"No, Fiella. I'm happy for you." The words sounded sour and unconvincing. "I have enough to do caring for Kani and Sel. I couldn't have a child now."

"Oh, Anra. Words are a wall for you."

Anra rose. "Maybe I need some time alone. I had to carry my sorrow away from here once, a long time ago. You won't need me here for a while, and Kani and Sel can stay with Lydee for another day or two. I need to sort things out in solitude."

"Solitude!" Fiella's smile was bitter. "You have that now, whenever you like, always."

Whenever Anra walked through the streets of the village, it seemed large and filled with people. Earthfolk bustled through the pathways or gathered in one of the three public spaces to gather wares from one of the shuttles while others worked in the fields or tended herds. Always she heard voices, even at night, a constant hum of words. All of Earth was there; all that was left of a whole world had been collected in that place. Only when she was outside the village did she see how small a fragment it actually was.

She rowed a small boat across the river, passing other boats filled with fisherfolk. Those people had learned patience; they waited for the fish, unable to catch them with their minds and make them leap into the boats. The fisherfolk had learned something else as well. Now they traded their fish for meat or grain or handwoven cloth, and other villagers were learning their habits; objects from the shuttles' synthesizers were shared, but not those that were the products of a person's labors. No longer did they share all, as Earthfolk had when thoughts could be touched and needs and wants easily discerned.

The skydwellers had built their houses on the opposite bank, facing the village; the river separated the two communities. The skydwellers had wanted to give the Earthfolk time to get used to their presence, but Anra had often thought that having two separate communities was a mistake. The village's thatched huts receded and voices faded as Anra rowed. She heard a crunch as the boat's prow ran aground; she got out and pulled the wooden craft up onto the shore.

The cometfolk had covered their bank with white sand. Several paces away, a few people sat on the beach. Two were moving carved images along a patterned board; the others held readers on their laps. Anra wondered what writings were occupying them. Shuttle libraries had held much of the skydwellers' wisdom, but many writings were obscure, and many of the skydwellers who might have interpreted them had been lost to the Visitor.

Farther down the bank, three skydwellers sat with Barla and the young Earthman who had recently become her partner. Barla was speaking; the skyfolk were mouthing her words. Some of the skyfolk knew only a little of Earth's tongue, and Anra had also struggled to teach it to a few. It was difficult for the skydwellers, who were used to Homesmind's almost effortless teaching, and there was more to understand than new words alone. Anra, shifting from one language to another, had felt her words shaping the world. The world of Earth's language was one of ever-changing physical detail that reflected eternal, unchanging cycles; an individual was only an aspect of a whole. The skydweller tongue revealed systems and abstract laws, but saw the conscious mind as a thing apart. With the world as it now was, without the Minds to link them, Anra sometimes thought that the skydweller language was closer to reflecting the truth.

Several shuttlecraft sat above the beach. Anra climbed toward them and the huts beyond. The skydwellers, with help from the Earthfolk, had built their homes of mud bricks and thatching, but the huts had windows of glass and doors carved with elaborate designs. Their streets were straight instead of curved, and covered with pale, flat stones. Elowers, rather than vegetables and fruits, grew in their carefully tended gardens.

She walked along one of the streets, careful not to slip on the smooth stones. The cometfolk had tamed their small part of Earth and usually stayed within it, avoiding the dangers outside its environs. Only a few had ventured as far as the plains or foothills along with the Earthfolk willing to guide them.

A group of people strolled by languidly, chattering in their musical speech. Peering at the huts, Anra tried to orient herself, then turned down another street until she came to her destination. Red roses bloomed in front of this hut; red stones glittered in the carved door.

She went up to the door and waited, knowing that it would not open until the scanner embedded in it recognized her. The door swung open. Jerod was inside, sitting on a cushion, talking to Daiya and Reiho.

"My dear," he said as he looked up. "What a pleasant surprise." He was speaking in the cometdwellers' tongue. "Do sit down. We were about to eat. I'd be happy to have a morsel fetched for you." His voice was light and cheerful, as it used to be. He glanced toward a small metal globe in the corner, about to speak to it; robots now had to be ordered about in words.

"No, thank you. I'm not hungry." She sat down on one of his red cushions. The room was bright with light from the wide windows; the shelves on the walls held carvings, tools, and other skydweller artifacts.

"Jerod has been telling me of our people's future plans," Reiho said, sounding unhappy.

"Oh, I wouldn't call them plans," Jerod replied. "Possibilities, perhaps. We still have our shuttles. They can't carry us out to the Halo, of course—they weren't made for such a long journey—but they are sufficient for us to capture any comet that passes close to Earth."

"They want to seed a new world," Reiho said.

"We have much knowledge still to master, but there is time enough for that. We have more to build with than our ancestors had, and we also know that it can be done. Someday, we'll even have a new Mind to guide us."

Reiho waved a hand. "It will take centuries for that Mind to become conscious."

"Perhaps not. I've read some of the writings on the subject."

"The people here still need our help, Jerod."

"They'll be able to live without us," the bald man said. "We can leave them some of our tools. This isn't our world."

"You can't go," Reiho said.

"My people are learning to trust you," Anra said, "and we've tried to help you, too. I know your loss is even greater than ours. But we can't hold you here. You've done a lot for us already."

Reiho folded his arms. "We're all that's left of humanity. We may be all that remains of this species anywhere. Shouldn't we work together? Each of us would be weaker without the other. This isn't the time to be thinking of leaving Earth. This can be our world, too." Reiho paused. "Earth built Minds once. We might learn how to do so again. Empty pillars litter the Earth. If we examined them, we might learn much."

"How I long for Homesmind," Jerod said forcefully, surprising Anra with his display of vehemence. "How I wish we had Its guidance now, and that of the Minds as well. Some of our people were just learning how to share thoughts, to reach out without fearing what might be revealed. Now we're locked inside ourselves. Once, that was the way we chose to live, but now—" He glanced at Anra and Daiya. "And your people are no better. I see what happens in your village."

Anra gazed at the skydweller steadily. "It's true. Some of us have learned how to lie and steal and disguise our thoughts with words. But others have tried to reach out to you as much as they could."