Eclipses v1 0, p.10
Eclipses (v1.0), page 10
Yet another person had just left them—Beth wasn’t sure who—and Aram, seeing that no one was approaching now, turned his back on the crowd. “Hey, are you here with us?” he asked, touching her hand with concern.
“Mostly,” she said dreamily.
“You haven’t eaten.”
“Nooo …” The word was twisted with her face’s response to the pain’s return.
“Beth? Beth? Is it … ?” Hastily, “I’d better get you to the house.”
“No!” Beth grabbed his arm despite the pain. “It’s all right. This is only the third one. We’ve lots of time.”
Staring at her from his half-risen position, he licked his lips nervously. “I’ll get Maria.”
The pain was gone. “No. Sit down,” she said impatiently, “or Maria will get suspicious and come to check me.”
Aram hesitated.
“Please, sweetheart. If Maria finds out she’ll drag me to the house, prep me and set up her vigil.” Beth’s glance flashed out across the lawn to where Maria and Calib sat and back to Aram. Smiling mischievously, she put her finger across her lips, saying, “Shhh.”
Aram sat and Beth lay down on her side, propping her head with one hand and patting the grass with the other, signifying that Aram, too, should lie down. He did so, putting his hand on her belly at the same time. “Does Alexi kick when the pains come?”
“I can’t tell through the pain.”
“You’d be more comfortable in bed.”
“No, this is fine. The sun is warm and you’re here. It couldn’t be more perfect. Inside, I’d have to get serious. I’m nervous enough.”
“I’m frightened, too,” he said.
“I know,” she said. He’d voiced his fear once—that he’d be the third generation of the dynasty to raise the firstborn son, the only son, alone. His fear echoed her own. Both knew it was unreasonable, for Beth was healthy, Alexi was well and there was no medical reason to sustain the fear. They did not speak of it again. “By morning, Alexi will be here and we’ll be arguing about when to have Pola and Erik.”
Aram grinned. “And Hilde.”
“We’ll see about Hilde. Though, given two years between each I’ll only be twenty-six after Erik … so, maybe.” “You’ll be forty-one.”
Beth smacked his shoulder, playfully. “I’m not counting the fifteen years in cold-sleep! That would make me older than you.”
Aram’s brows raised. “Can’t have that. We’d be breaking tradition.”
“Maria is younger than Calib?”
“Not by much, but I was referring to my mother.”
Beth nodded smugly. “I’ve had the feeling that Maria’s housekeeping contract was not all there is to her presence here.”
“It isn’t. But she had other contracts to honor as well.” “I’m glad she’s back. I would never have thought to take Calib up to the ridge this morning. He was so invigorated by seeing the dam’s entire breadth. He pointed out landmarks that will be on the edge of the reservoir and others that will be under water. He couldn’t have been more proud.”
Aram pillowed Beth’s head with his shoulder. “Calib’s dam and the other big one we’ve just begun will open mega-acres along the mountain rain shadow and a lot for the coast, too. There will be plenty of land for colonists for fifteen years,” he said. “These dams will expand Empire borders. Calib’s got good reason to be proud. Now, if we can only persuade colonists to come to the Empire. We need people here.” “It’s that manuscript-sized contract you offer that makes them suspicious. You know that the ones Research City offers are simple, less confining; it’s no wonder everyone goes to the coast. Things are a lot more open-ended there.”
“Ours can’t be condensed. We’ve tried. It takes space to spell out the rights and responsibilities incurred with the high standard of living the Empire offers.”
Beth knew the Empire’s standard of living was attractive to colonists, but the stringent ecological balance and the stable economy requirements, which prohibited overextending and demanded maximum productivity from small land parcels while holding’ vast expanses of adjacent land in trust for children not yet bom, seemed too confining to expansion-minded Earthlings. They had been locked into seemingly - benevolent systems on Earth. On the surface, the planet-wide, simple conditions of the Research City computer seemed like an opportunist’s contract. Colonists flocked to the coast where Aram’s power was attenuated and where a person could do almost anything. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what the colonists did—almost anything. And, sadly, homesteaders often found themselves landlocked or competing in saturated markets. Still, they had autonomy, and that was vital.
“Have you considered giving seminars on the Empire contract while colonists are still in their two-week recovery stay at Spaceport?” Beth said. “I now know the contract is benevolent and autonomy is guaranteed, but I didn’t know it when I first saw the contract at Spaceport.”
“The computer has complete explanations of all clauses.” “But so many of us don’t know how to use this computer. Earth computers are different. Think of how much I’ve had to learn this past year.”
Aram was thoughtful. “Empire contracts are going unfilled right now. I’d prefer letting them to the best colonists rather than waiting until Research City cuts off coastal development and having colonists come here simply because there is no other choice.”
“I didn’t realize Research City could cut off immigration.” “Certainly. The computer is programmed to maintain a minimum standard—which is sustenance—for everyone on the planet. When available resources cannot meet the population’s demand, immigration will be halted. The Empire contract is the Same in principle, but the minimum standards are much higher.”
“Who cuts off immigration to the Empire?”
“I do. If the present trend continues, the coast will be saturated before the Empire. But I mean to reverse the trend. I will begin actively recruiting colonists at Spaceport and so will the minor barons and my lieutenants.” A haze of self-satisfaction and the gleam of pride showed in Aram’s brown eyes. “Thanks for the suggestion, Beth.”
“But what happens when both Empire and coast are saturated?”
Aram shrugged. “Debarkation will be permitted only when a sufficient number of unlet contracts is available to make a shuttle trip practical.” He hugged her, sighing. “Beyond that, I don’t know. Perhaps they’ll stop coming by then:”
“Perhaps they won’t, and if they don’t, they’ll need somewhere to live. Can people bypass the computer?”
“That’s called reneging, but you have to be on the planet to do that. Research City controls Spaceport. Even if they could land, there is no place for them to go. Serensunar is not as hospitable as Earth. Most of our land couldn’t have been developed without technology, which is all filtered through the computer.”
“The computer is an idiot.”
Sunlight was dazzling Aram’s eyes, and he could not see Beth’s face. But he sensed she was holding back more angry words. He spoke quietly. “Why would you want to see people starve? Without the computer restrictions, that’s what you’d have, you know.”
“It’s possible the computer’s programs should be reevaluated, because it’s not just the minimum living standards in question. Have you never wondered why Serensunar has no cultural arts?”
Aram laughed. “Now, that’s not true. I’ve heard the arguments—that because artists cannot protect their creations from computer reproductions their creativity is inhibited. But it’s not true. We have many artists.”
“Amateurs,” Beth said scathingly. “I can’t believe that they really like living in houses with leaky roofs. Why did it never occur to the original programmers that an artist too can be ambitious?”
“That’s a contradiction. True artists need only to create and want only to share their creations … and they can get sustenance contracts from Research City if they need time off from their real work.”
Beth groaned.
Aram rolled over. “Pain again?”
“No … yes!” She fell silent, for the contraction was prolonged and intense. When it passed, she felt breathless and weak.
“It’s only twenty minutes since the last one,” Aram said, looking at his watch.
Beth breathed deeply of the sun-heated, fragrant spring air, unwilling to leave but knowing it was no longer prudent to stay. “Let’s go,” she said resignedly.
He helped her up, and Maria, seeing Aram’s unusually supportive hold on her, instantly came to their sides, clucking and scolding, comforting and cajoling. Her presence was suddenly reassuring. Beth knew, rather than just felt, that the picnic, Calib, everything was gone from Maria’s mind; everything but Beth. Beth was the most important person in the world.
Below the horizon swimmers had been evicted from the poolroom; damp towels they’d left hanging in the bedroom were removed_and someone’s pants were handed to a straggler who would find the owner, hopefully before he or she needed them desperately. Beth nestled in the bed, comfortable between the more frequent and longer lasting pangs, with Aram and Maria nearby. The commscreen had been shifted to accommodate the attending physician’s view of her patient, and occasionally Beth found herself staring dreamily into her office through the screen, hoping she’d appear again and stay put. For when the physician continuously monitored, Beth knew Alexi’s birth would be imminent. Beth was eager and only a very little bit anxious.
“Rest and relax,” were Maria’s commands between pains. Beth tried to read a tabloid, but it was hopeless; she couldn’t concentrate on anything but the exciting thing happening to her body. Each pain galvanized her anticipation, and soon she was wishing for them with unbounded desire, meeting them greedily.
She was clearly aware of Aram’s and Maria’s presence, the physician’s appearances on the screen, but she was indifferent to all of them. Soon she allowed Aram to help her to the bolsters Maria had set up for delivery, but Beth pushed Maria’s hand away when the woman reached to support Alexi’s emerging head. Beth held her son’s head for the first time. Touching him produced a peculiar satisfaction and was quickly mixed with the agony of labor. Both were compulsive feelings, could not be denied. When the last throe freed the already squalling infant, Beth clasped him to her breast and cried with joy. Now Maria became insistent, taking Alexi from her and helping Beth finish the work at hand. But the interval was brief, and soon Beth was comfortably nestling in the bed again with Alexi in the crook of her elbow, examining -every finger and toe of the stentorian-voiced boy.
“Hey, remember me?” she heard Aram say.
She looked up to see an expression more prideful than even the Water Baron should wear. Aram’s hands were reaching for Alexi, darting aside to touch Beth’s cheek, indecisive. “He looks like you,” Beth said, for Alexi had dark hair that was still damp but willfully curling. His tearless, unseeing eyes were hazy. Beth wondered whether they’d be brown or blue.
“The hair, perhaps, but he’s beautiful,” Aram said.
“Beth.” It was the physician interrupting. “Everything seems fine, but please, rest for tonight, and tell Maria immediately if there’s any unusual bleeding. I’ll be there tomorrow for a personal examination.”
“I’ll be checking with her constantly,” Maria said.
“I feel fine,” Beth said. “Tired, but I feel grand.” Elated, exhilarated, euphoric, she turned back to Alexi and Aram.
“Have you ever felt more useless?” Maria asked the physician.
“I like to feel useless at deliveries. I prefer it to complications.”
Beth caught Maria’s confirming nod and then the image on the commscreen faded. “Thank you, Maria,” she said.
Maria smiled, indulgent and happy. Then she frowned at Aram. “If you wish to stay with Beth, that’s fine. But let her rest now.”
“Soon,” Aram said, with his gaze still fixed on his son. Alexi had stopped crying and momentarily his face was serene. Then his nose twitched and his eyes moved behind the velvety lids. Aram and Beth watched the baby Water Baron, fascinated.
BOOK TWO
Chapter 10
The Rift River in moonlight was much as she remembered it, a silver braid that lay in the great rift valley. Hunted Moon was a brilliant crescent hovering above the far wall of the rift, filling the night with enough light to make out all the major features of the landscape. Beth stood on the rocky ledge that once had been the top of a waterfall at the mouth of the canyon, less awed by the moonlighted valley than she had been as a newcomer from Earth. But then the scene hadn’t been tinged by her own disappointment, and she hadn’t been thirsty, either. Even twelve years ago the falls were a mere whisper of the gushing cascades the Lost Expedition had reported, but there was water, and Beth had drunk when she pleased. So far she had found no diamonds. The rational part of her mind had stopped expecting to find diamonds a long time ago, but she hoped beyond hope that she hadn’t been leaving holes in arroyos and canyons all summer long for nothing.
The falls were long, indicating that in geological time they were quite young even when they had been flowing. In this restless land, the water might return one day to finish wearing out the rock and one day make a smooth journey to the Rift River, as so many other rivers did. But for now, Beth left her bike at the top of the one-time waterfall and climbed down the pile of boulders. Under her hands she could feel dried lichen not yet eroded away by the winds and sand. Deep in the crevasses between rocks she saw a bit of phosphorescence revealing a few threads of lichen when a little moisture accumulated, as it must even in this desert. At the bottom of the falls she climbed over a field of fallen boulders to what had been the stream banks, then followed a row of dead trees to the river.
She lay down at the water’s edge, drinking heavily and splashing water over her dusty face and hair. The river sounds filled her ears, the flow of swift water over and around rocks, gentle lapping sounds, and occasional splashes where a waterbird surfaced for air. She didn’t hear the sound of approaching footsteps until a dry branch snapped loudly at her ear. She sat up screaming.
It scared him, too, for he leaped back, losing most of the firewood he carried and looking around wildly for the source of her alarm. When he saw nothing but the normal night scene of the rift valley, he grinned sheepishly, finally realizing what had happened.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I knew you were here, so I assumed you knew I was here, too. I heard your bike and I watched you come down from the rocks.” He kneeled to gather back his lost firewood, studying her more carefully than he did the sticks. “It’s Beth, isn’t it?”
Beth nodded and scooted back from the water’s edge so that she could see his face in the moonlight. She wasn’t too surprised to be identified by someone she didn’t recognize immediately; Aram was known on sight to most of the adult population on the planet, and his family was fairly well known, too. But she was surprised to realize she knew him. His thick auburn hair and big size should have made it easy, but it was his eyes she really remembered.
“You’ve grown a beard since I last saw you, Shelley,” she said, quite relieved that it was he and no one she need fear. During all the times she’d been in wilderness areas, she’d met hunters and foresters, naturalists and occasional travelers, and she had spent time with most, sometimes even camping with them for considerable time. But once she had met a renegade, and though nothing had happened that she couldn’t handle, his nothing-to-lose attitude had frightened her. Shelley was no renegade. She recalled that he’d been involved in the construction of Calib’s Dam and had even stayed on a few years as an operating engineer with a beautiful woman named Lydia. They had left the valley together, about five years after Calib had died, and Beth hadn’t seen either of them since then.
Shelley ran his fingers over the beard self-consciously. “I forgot to bring depilatories.” He picked up the last of the fallen sticks, thrusting them firmly under one arm. “I was just about to start a fire and cook some fish. There’s enough for you,too.”
If Beth hadn’t remembered Shelley’s eyes so well, she might not have sensed that he’d extended the invitation only because it was the polite thing to do. His irises were as blue as she remembered, but they were clouded tonight as they never had been, the intriguing sparkle gone. But she was hungry enough to pretend she hadn’t noticed, and she nodded her acceptance. Perhaps Lydia was back at the camp; the couple might be enjoying a summer outing and not really want company. If that were the case, she would eat and run, she decided. She didn’t feel sociable—just hungry.
Shelley’s camp was a hundred meters down river on a tree-filled mound of crusty sand and rock. A sagging inflatable raft lay overturned nearby, its silver skin dulled by a thick layer of blowing dust and sand, indicating to Beth that it had lain there for quite some time. There was no sign of Lydia in the camp. Beth saw only one sleeping bag, and that was single-sized.
“Lydia isn’t here?” Beth asked.
Shelley hesitated as he reached for a frying pan. After putting it on the fire and tossing some spices from a little bottle into the bottom of the pan, he turned. “Lydia and I dissolved our contract a few months ago.”
Even with a shadow across his face, Beth could see the moisture welling up around his blue eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said, meaning it, for it was obvious that parting had not been easy for Shelley.
“Yeah, sure,” he said. He blotted his eyes as if there were a grain of sand or an eyelash by the lids. “Twelve damn years, and all for nothing.”
The number couldn’t help but catch her attention and make her think of her own twelve years of searching for the diamonds. “I’ve just put twelve years down the tubes, too,” she said, commiserating.
“You’ve left Aram?” he said, startled now.
“Oh, no!” Beth said quickly. “No … I mean, my work. I didn’t find the diamonds.” She thought from the puzzled look on his face that he didn’t remember, or perhaps she had never told him about the diamonds. “The Lost Expedition found diamonds somewhere between here, where they lost the shuttle, and the mountains. I’ve been looking for them.” The shuttle disaster site was only a few hundred meters upriver, and he surely was aware of how close he was camped to it. Yet he still looked confused.
