Eclipses v1 0, p.25
Eclipses (v1.0), page 25
“Yourself-esteem is remarkably innocent,” Sven said in a quiet, firm voice. “Without you, the power structure would fall only one level—to your minor barons. We’d have three hundred water barons to deal with. And out of three hundred, we’d find one compassionate person.”
“You’d find three hundred squabbling over control of the dams and reservoirs. Refugee problems would never be settled until their own differences were. And don’t forget, every one of those three hundred have taken their turn at guarding the passes. They were not selected for prime contracts because they are fools.”
“Open the passes!” Sven cried.
“I won’t.”
I will, Beth thought as she moved to the edge of her seat. She believed Aram knew he alone stood between Serensunar’s death and its dreams, but he didn’t seem to see that he barred the way to greater dreams. Beth knew the passes had to open soon.
Chapter 25
Four of Beth’s five children were awaiting her in the kitchen when she came downstairs. Normally such a gathering, even one lacking Erik, would bring great pleasure to Beth. She had never grown accustomed to Erik’s absence, but it didn’t dampen her joy in having the others. Pola, she realized, must have flown all night to arrive early in the morning; but not early enough to see Aram, who had left for Clearwater Basin hours before sunrise.
“We know what happened,” Alexi said before any of the others could speak. “I took Sven and Jacobsen over to the airport. Aram’s as adamant as ever.” Alexi’s fingers ran through the thick curls, pushing them away from his eyes. He bent over his coffee and hair fell back on his forehead. His fingers raked again.
“Don’t worry about it,” Beth said. But she did not seem unworried. Her eyes were dark circles and her laugh lines were pulled taut.
Pola looked at her mother. “I thought I’d go to Clearwater.”
“No, I need you here,” Beth said. “You and Alexi must make up contract disks. Set them up, but don’t execute or record them yet.”
Pola,lifted one delicate blonde brow. “You mean he did agree? Why didn’t you tell us?”
Beth sat down and forced a confident smile. “He hasn’t agreed yet, but he will.” Pola did not lower her brow. The blue eye beneath it and the hazel one next to it did not blend for Beth as they usually did. Disconcerting, as if the different colors increased Pola’s perception.
“Mother, we should start now,” Alexi said. “We can only take those bergs during arctic summer … that’s only thirty days long. If we don’t leave within the next two weeks, we’fl have to wait another year.”
Beth nodded. “Make the disks and check that the contracts are perfect. I don’t want Aram to find any fault with them. When you are done, give them to me and go back to the coast.”
“Don’t be vague, Mother,” Alexi said. “Erik is holding a fleet of ships idle by pledging his vineyards.”
“The contracts will be signed by tomorrow,” Beth said.
The children looked at her suspiciously.
“Trust me,” Beth said, and she turned away so they could not see her face and know they should not.
Beth stood before the computer console in Aram’s office. Marc and Hilde were in bed, Pola was on her way back to the coast and Alexi was spending the night with a woman friend. Beth had locked the door. It was an unnecessary precaution; she’d talked to Aram on the commscreen only moments before. He was hours away at Clearwater Basin, but locking the door had seemed the proper thing to do. She stared at the console. She had used it many times in the past to fulfill household requirements and even to make Empire contracts, but only when Aram was in traction with a broken leg or when he was away and had directed its use to correct emergency situations. She had never used it without his consent.
Beth dropped the first contract disk into the computer access chamber: Authorizing payment for a fleet of ships’ service for a year. The second: Prepaying Sibernian drillers and securing their equipment. The third: Contracting for the construction of three nuclear power plants and agreeing to cease and desist operation of those plants should thermal pollution occur. The fourth: Opening the passes. The fifth: Increasing water supply to the coast to accommodate immediate and future population influx.
Beth hesitated. Then she picked up the stylus and signed on the authorization panel and activated the computer. It hummed. It registered data within its own storage devices and transmitted identical copies to Research City’s central computer. In minutes the paper printouts were spewing from a slot. Beth gathered them, checked them, placed them on Aram’s desk and added the five contract disks to the heap. Then, with trembling hand, she put another contract disk down, this one over thirty years old. She unlocked the office door, went out and locked it again behind her. Then she walked out of the mansion and three kilometers more to the airport.
A parafoil was waiting to take her to the coast. Its tough gossamer parachute wing was billowing in the moonlight from the propeller airflow. It was straining with the pressure to escape.
Beth settled into the compartment and, when they were airborne, called Erik on the commscreen. He was rubbing sleep from his eyes as he answered.
“Where are you?” he asked, knowing the background he saw on the screen was not Aram’s office.
“On my way to the coast. I’m going to join the expedition.” Beth was artificially jubilant.
“Earth woman’s wanderlust again?” Erik said. The sleepy eyes were just beginning to focus. “What did Aram think of that?”
“He doesn’t know … yet.” Beth bit her lip and breathed deeply as Erik awaited further explanation. “The contracts are signed. I signed them.”
“Mother!”
Beth couldn’t tell if Erik’s expression was one of anger or amazement.
“We wouldn’t have asked you to do that,” Erik said finally. “Alexi could—”
“I know. But it’s done now and …” Beth began to cry.
“… you can’t face him.” Erik was silent a moment.
“Come along, Mother. I’ll explain to Alexi and Pola. What about Hilde and Marc?”
Beth sniffed, wondering what had caused her to cry. Regret? Guilt? Fear? She thought she would feel proud. “I didn’t tell anyone,” Beth said. “I didn’t want anyone involved.”
Erik shook his head. “You take a lot on yourself, Mother.” “It was the only way.” ^
“I don’t like you being in the middle like this.”
I always am, Beth thought.
Chapter 26
Aram could always tell when Beth was not home. It was different from a brief absence that might call her from the house for a few hours or even one day. And it had nothing to do with knowing her plans. Beth followed her instincts—her movements were not easily foreseen, even by herself. Beth had been gone for days; the dust along the top of the foyer cabinet was well above the reach of Maria’s dust cloth but easily visible to Beth. She had never adjusted to household help; she was not good at directing servants. She did, at least, have a knack for selecting capable ones. And if they had minor shortcomings, she reconciled them by doing the work ‘ herself rather than confront the responsible servant.
There were other things. Flowers arranged by Maria, or even Hilde, were symmetrically placed, colors blended. Beth’s arrangements were bunches of contrasting colors surrounded by wild greens picked on her walks. A single wild flower, floating in a water glass, might be on Aram’s desk or dresser. Her absence was manifested in the silence, the lack of her response to the door signal, no traces of her perfume to indicate she had passed through the foyer only moments before.
A single sign would not have triggered Aram’s awareness, but all of them brought a feeling of loneliness he endured for her contentment. It was a reasonable exchange.
Aram went down the hall. He could smell meat frying, and when he stopped at his office door, Marc came out of the kitchen wearing an apron over his breeches. Straight black hair framed delicate features; narrow shoulders and short stature made him look younger than his thirteen years.
“Hello, Dad,” Marc said. He did not rush to Aram as his brothers had when they were small; but when he smiled, as he did now, there was no doubt about the pleasure he felt.
Aram returned the smile. “You’re cooking today.”
Marc shrugged. “It was cook or starve. It’s Hilde’s turn, but she’s upstairs crying.”
“Boyfriend trouble?”
Marc cocked his head thoughtfully. “No.” Then he shrugged. “I’m always the last to know. She’s been taking your messages on the upstairs commscreen … your office door is locked.”
Aram frowned. The door was kept closed for privacy, but he never locked it. He reached for the knob and turned—it did not open. A puzzling fear gripped him as he punched the proper lock sequence on the combination buttons. On the second try the door opened.
Aram stepped in and the lights came on. He glanced around. Shelves and cabinets were all in order. The drapes were closed as they always were in the summer to maintain cooling integrity. The commscreen behind his desk was dark and the computer was silent, as was right in his absence. Still puzzled, still fearful, Aram closed the door, went to his desk and sat down.
The contracts might as well have been written in fire and the disks unconsumable in the flames; they conveyed terror.
“No!” he said, but he knew his plea was unheard as he riffled through the documents. Enraged, he threw them. The disks skittered across the desk and onto the floor.
How could she allow them to use her this way, he thought. I’ll see them in hell… With a wrenching motion he turned his chair. Fingers that were trembling with anger punched the numbers of Pola’s Research City residence and the comm-screen crackled with life.
Pola looked up from her drafting board. “I’ve been expecting your call,” she said.
“Where’s Alexi?”’ Aram shouted. “He’s been wanting to fight. I’m going to beat that—” Aram stopped. Name calling was useless. “He forced Beth to sign the contracts … the damned contracts for his damned project. He destroyed the Empire! He—”
“He didn’t know, Father,” Pola said quite loudly. “He would have signed them himself if he’d wanted it that way.”
“The damned things are firm contracts. There’s no way I can recall them, no way I can meet them. He’s there with you.” Aram’s eyes were flashing with rage. “He wouldn’t have dared stay under my roof. That stupid—”
“He didn’t know. Mother did it on her own. She didn’t tell any of us.”
What the hell is Pola saying? Beth?
“We wouldn’t have let her had we known, but she didn’t tell any of us until it was done.”
Aram stared at the screen. Then he shook his head in disbelief. Why? He rubbed his temples as if to clear his mind. “Where is she?” he asked in a hoarse whisper.
“Here. She’s going with Erik and Alexi to the End of the World to get the icebergs.”
Aram nodded slowly.
“Father, the plan will wor—”
He snapped off the screen. He felt his sixty years multiplied by ten as he turned back to his desk. Not like this, Beth. He sat numbly. He had always known he couldn’t hold her for longer than she wanted to stay—hadn’t she realized that? She had severed everything between them to prevent him from going after her and bringing her back. She had wanted a clean break, one that was irrevocable. She had succeeded in the only way possible—by destroying the Empire along with her love.
Aram exhaled a sob and became aware of Marc standing at the door.
“I knocked …” _
Aram nodded. Marc always knocked.
“Dad, please stop her,” Marc said. His face was filled with fear. ‘
“You heard?”
“Yes,” Marc said.
Hilde came through the open door and Marc moved aside.
“It’s not right,” Marc said. He shook his head and looked at his sister.
“She’s gone,” Hilde told Aram.
“I know.” Aram barely kept his voice level. “There is nothing we can do about it.”
Hilde began crying. Her tears renewed Aram’s own and he didn’t restrain them. He got up and went over to Hilde, putting his arms around her and comforting her. “It’s got nothing to do with you, Hilde. You must not think it’s your fault in any way … it’s not. It’s—”
“She should have taken me along,” Hilde said.
Aram was startled. Was that anger in her voice? He looked at his daughter, saw the set line of her jaw and the down-’ turned lips. Her eyes were hard.
Hilde looked at Aram, saw his incredulity and pulled away from him. “I could have gone,” she said defiantly.’“I could have studied on the ship. There was no reason I should not go.”
Aram didn’t answer.
“When they come back they will be heroes. Think of all the adventures they will have, the excitement, what they will see!”
“They’ll go down in history,” Marc said.
Aram looked at Marc. There was no envy in his eyes, or anger, like Hilde. Marc was solemnly shaking his head.
Confused, Aram went to his desk and sat down. The children followed and sat nearby. He understood Hilde, even if belatedly. She felt she’d been cheated out of a fine adventure. She was feeling sorry for herself for that—not for losing her mother. But Marc … He looked at the boy: Thin, olive skin and straight black hair, not resembling Beth with the striking features of his brothers and sisters. He was not the only quiet child—certainly Pola was that—but Marc was not quiet with the self-satisfaction Pola enjoyed. Marc seemed to be seething, frantic under the outer calm. Now he was frightened, too, and Aram didn’t know why. He turned back to Hilde. She had her tears under control and was staring stonily at her father.
“I never wanted anything so much in my whole life,” Hilde said. “I asked Erik if I could go. He said yes, but I never even got a chance. She left! I didn’t know she’d gone there. When Pola called today to tell me what had happened, the fleet was ready to leave. Erik didn’t even give me a thought!”
“I’m sure it was just a matter of priorities, Hilde,” Aram said. “You know the circumstances?”
“Yes, I—” Hilde cringed. “Oh, Dad, I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize for your mother. It’s got nothing to do with you.”
Hilde considered that a moment. “Maybe not, but I think you should know that I was in favor of the plan. Marc is the only one who didn’t want those people to come down.” “They’ll come down now,” Aram said. Inside, he felt fear overwhelming his hurt and anger.
“You can keep the passes closed,” Marc said.
“No. Not without reneging immediately.” Aram shuffled through the contracts, selected the proper one and handed it to Marc. Marc took it and began reading.
“Hilde, if I had seen a practical way to help those people, I would have.” His words were clipped, but he meant them. “I think this is practical. I know you don’t, but I do.” Aram sighed and stood up. Her belief may be of value to me, he thought, for he knew he would have to make preparations for the time when the contracts became untenable. To do that, he needed cover, and time. He turned to Hilde again. “Can you and Maria manage the household schedules? I need to be away for a while.”
“We can take care of ourselves,” Hilde said.
Aram smiled as best he could. “I know that, Hilde. But I can’t take care of myself. I get lonely for my family.”
Hilde touched her father’s hand. “It’s going to be strange without Mother—I’m glad you’re here.” She looked at him with misery in her eyes. “They’ll be gone for a year.”
“Yes.” Aram stared at the wall. It seemed far away.
“Will she come back?”
“You mean, will I let her?” He looked-at Hilde. She nodded and Aram shrugged. Will she want to come back? Will she have the wanderlust out of her system? How confused she must have been to do it this way. What happened to our trust?
“I’ll finish dinner,” Hilde said, and started toward the door. She paused on the starburst, picked up the disks and gave them to Aram. She hurried out.
“If you went after her—” Marc began.
“No. This is something she has to do, Marc,” Aram said. He looked sympathetically at Beth’s youngest son. Marc spent more time with Beth than anyone. He would feel her absence very deeply.
“But if they couldn’t bring the icebergs back—if you could stop that part now—perhaps the starship captains would not set their ships down even if you can’t close the passes,” Marc said, handing the contract back to Aram.
Aram frowned. “Marc, I can’t stop it. These contracts are firm. They can’t be renegotiated under any circumstances.” Aram was staring at Marc, for he knew Marc was old enough to understand and he didn’t know why the boy was not accepting the facts.
Marc got up from the chair, walked to Aram’s computer console and fingered it thoughtfully. “Is it possible to love someone and disapprove—hate—what they do?”
Aram bit his lip. “Yes, Marc. It is.”
Chapter 27
Despite the monotony of fair skies, droning propeller and night-shrouded landscapes—all of which would normally bore her to somnolence—Beth did not sleep during the long flight. It seemed a journey on nightmare wings, for her mind stumbled along haunted paths and truncated spirals, endlessly seeking reason in the absurd. The logic of her pain eluded her.
Then the flight abruptly terminated in Research City’s tranquil landing field. Erik and Pola were at her side the moment she stepped from the dirigible, and on seeing them reality was suddenly personified: She was on her way to the End of the World.
“We’ve taken care of your wardrobe,” Erik said. “It’s at Pola’s place. You’ll want to see that it fits.” He’d barely touched her when he kissed, started striding toward the waiting car, urging Beth and Pola to match his pace. “We have to hurry.” Not an apology, just a statement.
