Venus of Shadows (9 page)

*  *  *

Malik left the dining hall. As usual, he had lost that evening's throw of the dice and had won the task of returning the men's bowls and trays to the hall. Almost everyone in the camp was sitting outside along the paths; now that the weather was warmer and the days a little longer, people had taken to spending more time outdoors. Lately, most of their conversation involved speculations about when the next group of emigrants would be chosen. Five new arrivals had set up tents, and the Habber pilots had been living in one of the towers for more than a month; surely a group would have to be picked soon.

Malik counted the days in his mind. He had been in the camp for a month, but he had learned that the Project Council kept to no particular schedule in selecting emigrants. Two groups might be chosen in less than a month, and then several months might pass before others were picked. But the camp also knew that Habber pilots usually did not remain here for longer than two or three weeks, and the two here now had to be growing impatient,

Yekaterina was sitting in front of her yurt with five other women. She smiled as he passed, then turned back to the young woman beside her, who was speaking haltingly in Anglaic. He could read Yekaterina's expressions readily by now; her slightly apologetic smile told him she would not be sharing his bed that night. He smiled back and nodded to show that he understood.

He strolled to the edge of the camp; the recent arrivals, sitting outside their tents, averted their eyes as he passed. They had greeted him easily enough before but had probably been told that Malik was a former Linker; now they held back. He felt his loss once more and longed for the Link that had always kept any loneliness at bay.

A man dressed in gray was walking just beyond the posts. Malik recognized the short, stocky form and dark hair of one of the Habber pilots; the man often took walks, alone or with the Habber woman who, like this man, had an Asian's features. Perhaps the pilot did not mind the delay; his Link would keep him connected to his world.

Malik suddenly wanted to go to the man, ask him if there was a way to join his people. Among Habbers, he could be Linked again, and such people wouldn't mock him for his learning. His uncle's enemies had accused him of too many sympathies with Habber views; perhaps he should prove to them that they were right.

Such hopes were useless. He turned to walk back to his yurt, wondering how Nikolai had endured the years of waiting.

The men were sitting outside, listening as Bogdan analyzed their chances for winning passage soon. "Kolya's been here the longest," the stolid young man was saying, "and the Council must know how patient he's been and how he's kept some order here. On the other hand, maybe they think he's useful here because of that." He went on to assess Howin's chances while the Chinese man nodded solemnly. Bogdan spoke in his slow, deliberate way, as if struggling with the Anglaic, but he sounded the same way in Russian, his native tongue.

Malik leaned against the doorframe of the yurt. He longed to go inside to read, but even Nikolai was complaining lately that he kept too much to himself.

Nikolai cleared his throat as Bogdan lapsed into silence. "The trouble is," Nikolai said, "that every reason you give for letting us go seems to be a reason for keeping us here, too." Bogdan scratched at his dark hair, as if this were a new thought to him. "Maybe they just pick names by chance."

"They have reasons," Malik said. "The problem is that you can't ever know what they are. They might need people with certain specific skills, or the demographers might say more women are needed. Bogdan's right, in a way — anything that's to your advantage one time could work against you at another. There's also the chance of the Council being capricious in the choice if several people here can do the same kind of work, because it wouldn't much matter which one they select."

Howin gestured at Malik. "What do you think his chances are?"

Bogdan scratched his head again. "He's here because he has enemies, isn't he? They might want to keep him here forever." He slapped his palm. "On the other hand, Venus might need a man with some learning now."

Malik could no longer endure this useless discussion. "I think I'll get some rest," he said.

"Yekaterina's been tiring him," Hisoka muttered; a few of the men chuckled. "Better keep yourself strong," the Japanese man continued, "or she might look somewhere else."

Malik went inside; he could read a little before sleeping. He ducked under his blanket, knelt, and searched for his screen, certain he had left it next to his sleeping mat. At last he pulled out his small light wand and looked carefully through his belongings. The flat panel that held his microdot library was still there, but the screen was gone.

He sat back on his heels and knew immediately that none of the men outside would have touched it. Except for Hisoka, none of them could read. At any rate, they would never touch another man's possessions without asking first; that was one reason they got along in such close quarters. Yekaterina often enjoyed glancing through some of the more accessible books written in Russian, but she wouldn't have borrowed the screen without telling him.

Most of the camp knew he had a screen; Nikolai had jested about Malik's solitary pursuit often enough. But without the library, the screen was useless, and the library was still here; he knew of no one in the camp who had another. His more useful possessions — the light wand, his other clothes, his grooming aids — were untouched. Why would the thief take something he could not use?

The answer came to him at once. The thief held a grudge, and Malik could think of only one person who disliked him enough to do this. Alexei knew that he and Yekaterina were often together; she and her brother had exchanged harsh words about that. The young man had not confronted Malik openly, probably because he feared Nikolai's reaction; Nikolai would not hesitate to stand up for any of his friends.

Malik could go to Nikolai, who would settle the problem one way or another. Alexei's life here would not be easy after that, and Yekaterina might blame Malik for her brother's troubles. Even knowing what her brother was like, she still persisted in believing he could change; she would wonder why Malik had not gone to Alexei to deal with this quietly.

He would have to handle this alone.

*  *  *

Alexei had recently moved to a cabin near the dining hall; a hard-looking man seated outside the door told Malik that Alexei was taking a walk on the open ground to the south. Malik hurried there and found the blond man loitering by one of the posts with three companions.

"Look who's here," Alexei said in Anglaic. "We don't usually have such fine company." He did not seem surprised to see Malik.

"I have to speak to you," Malik muttered.

"What about?"

"It'd be better if we speak alone."

Alexei glanced at the other men, then nodded. The three wandered off and sat down several paces from the post. The Habber pilot was still outside walking; two Guardians trailed him at a distance.

Malik said, "I've lost my screen."

"Careless of you."

"It was stolen. It's an old screen, one that can only be used with a library. I thought you might know where it is."

Alexei's green eyes widened. "Now, how would I know that? I can't use that kind of screen. I didn't have your advantages, I don't know how to read. Are you saying I'm a thief?"

Malik swallowed. "The screen's gone. Few people in this camp can read, and if one of them were to risk taking the screen, the library would have been taken as well. Anyway, I don't see how anyone could use it without others finding out, so the thief must have had another motive."

"And you're accusing me? I don't take kindly to that." Alexei did not sound terribly indignant. "Anyway, how could I possibly take it without being seen?"

"I don't care how you did it. If you give it back, I won't say anything."

"But I don't have it," Alexei said, "and you can't prove that I do."

"Use your sense," Malik said angrily. "Do you want Kolya and his friends to know something was taken from their place? They'd make things very hard for you."

"And I'll deny it. Go ahead, see what people think when you can't offer any proof. See what Kolya thinks when you drag him into your personal grudges." Alexei's eyes narrowed. "You think you're better than the rest of us, with all your learning and your airs. You think you can use Katya as you like just because you were once a Linker. I came here to be rid of people like you — you don't deserve to have more than anyone else. You'll just have to get along without your precious screen."

"I want that screen back," Malik said evenly. "It had better be with my belongings by tomorrow, or I'll go to Kolya with this story."

Alexei laughed. "You can't tell me what to do now." He motioned to his three friends; the men stood up and came toward them. The Habber pilot and the two Guardians were closer but not near enough to hear Alexei's words. Malik knew he could not go to the Guardians with his problem; everyone in the camp would despise him for bringing such a matter to their attention, and the uniformed men were unlikely to take his side anyway.

"The Linker's saying some evil things to me," Alexei said to his companions. "He just accused me of something I didn't do, and you know how he's treated my sister. I don't think I should stand for that, do you?"

The three took up places around them as Alexei raised his fists. Malik stepped back; he was taller than the blond man, but Alexei was more muscular and probably used to fighting. Alexei came at him; Malik ducked and managed to block the blow with one arm. If Alexei hurt him badly enough, he'd be taken away for treatment and probably not allowed to return; maybe that was what the younger man wanted.

Alexei jolted him with another blow. Malik kept his arms up, trying to protect his head and chest. A foot kicked him in the thigh, narrowly missing his groin. Alexei swung and caught him in the belly; Malik doubled over, nearly retching as he was knocked to the ground.

Hands grabbed the collar of his coat, then suddenly released him. "What's going on here?" a voice shouted. Malik struggled to his feet; Alexei drew back as the two Guardians and the Habber approached.

"What's going on?" one of the Guardians asked. "We can't have this."

Malik knew what he would have to say. He took a breath, trying to ignore the pain in his abdomen. "It's nothing," he rasped. "My friend here was only showing me how to defend myself. Just a little exercise, that's all."

The Guardian peered at him. "You're the Linker, aren't you?" The Habber seemed surprised as he glanced in Malik's direction. "Maybe you do need some practice at such things. Well, we can't have fighting in this camp — pretty soon, others start taking sides and then we have a riot on our hands."

"It wasn't a fight." Malik hoped he sounded sincere. "You can see I wasn't hurt."

"I won't ask who started it, but if I see you two fighting again, out you go. I wouldn't want our Habber friend here to think you're the kind of folks he'll be taking to Venus. Just be grateful I'm in a good mood at the moment."

Alexei led his friends away; the Guardians turned toward the tower. The Habber was still watching Malik; as he was about to follow the Guardians, Malik saw his chance and motioned with his hand.

"I'd like to speak to you alone," Malik whispered. "Find a way if you can." He hurried away before the Habber could reply.

*  *  *

Nikolai took Malik aside after breakfast the next morning. "I heard you and Alexei Osipov had a disagreement," he said.

"It's nothing," Malik replied. His body still felt bruised.

"Guardians saw you — that's what I heard. If you've got a gripe, settle it where they can't see you."

"I told the Guardians he was just helping me learn how to defend myself."

Nikolai nodded. "You've learned something then."

Malik left the other men at the lavatory and went back to the yurt alone; Yekaterina was waiting by the entrance, her face grim. She went inside without speaking and looked around as he entered, then thrust one arm inside her coat.

"I brought this back," she said as she pulled out his screen.

"You took it?" he asked, surprised.

She shook her head. "I heard about your argument with my brother. I kept after him until he admitted what he'd done. I told him I'd bring it back and make sure no one else finds out. You didn't say anything to Kolya, did you?"

"No."

"See that you don't. If you do, I'll deny it, say that I only borrowed the screen and that you're blaming Alexei unfairly. I don't want any more trouble for him." Her expression softened a bit. "One of his friends said you spoke up for Alexei when two Guardians saw you fighting. That hasn't warmed my brother's heart, but I'm grateful."

He examined the screen; it was scratched in one corner and stained by dirt, but otherwise undamaged. "You'll lie for him," Malik said, suddenly irritated by her dogged devotion to her brother. "You refuse to see what he's really like. How do you expect him to change if you're always there to save him from the consequences of his mistakes?"

"He's my brother."

"You may not be doing him any favor, Katya. What's he going to do when you're not around to clean up after him? You may not even be sent to Venus together — how is he going to get along there?"

"It'll be different there," she replied.

"Do you think so? He may just find something else to resent. Perhaps I should have said something to Kolya, so Alexei could learn that he can't just do as he likes, but I wasn't really thinking of him then. I was thinking of how upset you'd be if he got in serious trouble."

"I spoke to him," she said softly. "He won't do anything like that again. It's time we saw no more of each other, I think. I don't want to part from you now, but seeing you only makes him angry, and we always knew that our time together wouldn't last."

"Do you think that's the only reason he struck out at me?" Malik clutched his screen tightly. "He hates what I am — he would have hated me even if I'd never welcomed you to my bed. I represent all the privileged people he hates — he doesn't see what I am now. He can work out his resentments on someone who's lost the power to do much about it."