Read Online A Door Into Ocean by Joan Slonczewski - Free Book Online Page A

“cure” was an everpresent knife at her neck.
    Then Realgar had entered her life, a gift of fate, or perhaps of her scheming parents, at whose home she had met him. She had fallen for him, with his ambitions and his two darling children. But how would Realgar fit into her life as a Sharer? Never mind, for now. Berenice pressed Cassiter’s hair. “Cassi, do you know what I’ll bring you from the moon? A whorlshell, that’s what, a perfect whorlshell polished by the sea.”
    â€œA whorlshell? A real one, with golden stripes?”
    â€œThat’s right, just for you.”
    Cheerful again, Cassiter beamed and let Berenice release her. As Berenice stood again, she caught a softness in Realgar’s eyes, a rare show of feeling. “They need you,” he said. “As much as I do.”
    â€œYes.” She barely voiced the word. She was just on the verge … it would be so easy to give in, now, to solve everything for good. But there was something else she had gained from Shora, beyond physical wholeness: a wholeness of the spirit, a source of refuge that she would never find on Valedon. She could not give up Shora for marriage, not yet.
    Cassiter picked up the helmet again and plunked it on her head It
came down over her eyes, but she marched ahead blindly, and her brother started to follow. “Come on, troops! For’ard! Tighten up the bleeding line!”
    â€œThat’s enough, now,” said Realgar. “We have to be going. Time to say goodbye to—”
    Immediately the children rushed back and clung to her. “You can’t go already,” cried Elmvar. “Then there’s just the old nanny servo; she’s ugly, and she smells like motor oil.”
    Berenice swallowed hard and forced herself to look up at Realgar.
    â€œThey get so out of hand,” he apologized. “They need a mother to keep them in line.”
    â€œNot for that, surely; they can’t lack … discipline?” She paused at the word, recalling with distaste his dismissal of rebel Sharers.
    His shoulders straightened. “Cassiter. Elmvar. Stand here.” His voice had not risen, but the children released the folds of Berenice’s talar and went to stand beside their father. “Now say goodbye.”
    â€œGoodbye, Mama Berenice,” they chorused.
    Unexpectedly, desire overcame her. Her head felt light, and she thought that if he asked her now she would surely say yes. But Realgar seemed content to look long and hard into her eyes, satisfied that he still held her. “You shall return safely, Berenice,” he pronounced, as if binding even the elements to his will.
    Â 
    At the space landing, Berenice stepped gingerly among plastic shreds and metal curls. A gust of wind cooled her scalp but threw sour dust in her face. Ahead of her sat the battered old moonferry; it almost seemed to shrink back, as if apologizing for its existence amid Iridian splendor. If only she could have taken her father’s liner, the Cristobel , but no reputable member of the Trade Council would carry her Sharer friends.
    There they were, at the dark entranceway: Merwen and Usha. They wore brief shifts of seasilk to satisfy Valan notions of modesty, but their bald violet heads were unmistakable. As she drew near, signs of ill health appalled her. Their fingertips fluttered feebly, and their skin had a flat, dusky look, a smokier shade of amethyst.
    â€œOh, share the day, Merwen,” she exclaimed in Sharer speech. “I’m so glad you’re safe!” At least they had kept out of jail, or worse. She held Merwen close; it felt like embracing an ocean. “Surely the air at
least was better for you, up the coast?” Hesitantly she kissed Usha, whose face was even more dour than she had remembered.
    Merwen smiled faintly. “We breathed. And we shared learning, very much.”
    â€œThat’s wonderful. That’s what you hoped for, isn’t