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Authors: Pamela Sargent
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probably enjoyed most was the reversal in their stations.
Two of Nikolai's friends were wrestling on the open ground beyond the tents. Several in the camp filled the long hours with such pursuits — footraces, wrestling, acrobatic feats, or violent games with tattered balls and sticks. The efforts kept them fit, and a serious injury, which could always be passed off as an accident, might eliminate at least one competitor for a place aboard a ship. Malik was careful to avoid such contests, as well as the betting of food or personal possessions that often accompanied them.
A female Guardian stood near the post, watching the wrestlers. Nikolai gestured at her. "I'll tell you what I heard about that bitch. She got tired of waiting for passage, so she joined the Guardians instead."
Malik frowned. "Was she in this camp?"
"Of course not. They wouldn't keep somebody like that in the same camp — there'd be more chance of trouble. A couple of people joined from here, and they got sent somewhere else afterward. They'll take ones they can use, and she'll probably be more grateful to them than most. Just as well we won't have that sort on Venus — someone who'd join the Guardians instead of patiently waiting."
Malik rubbed at his chin; the skin of his face felt slightly raw. He had removed his stubble, but the harsh depilatory cream the lavatory provided irritated him.
One of the wrestlers pinned the other, then released him. The two men rose and began to wander toward the yurts. "The officer in charge now, Keir Renin, got here a few months ago," Nikolai continued. "The one before him was harder in some ways. She'd use any reason to throw someone out, and always kept to the rules, but at least the women were a little safer. It's better for them if the officer's a woman and keeps the male Guardians in line. Keir Renin will just look the other way. It's why I told Yekaterina Osipova to be careful — there wouldn't be much she could do if a Guardian or two caught her alone."
Malik felt his own helplessness. "Her brother would go after anybody who hurt her."
"He'd be a fool if he did. They're armed and we're not. He'd just ruin things for himself, and he wouldn't help her."
The Guardian was gazing at Malik now. She seemed vaguely familiar; she might have been in the room where he had been scanned.
"You'd better look out for her," Nikolai muttered. "You're probably used to women eying you like that, but if you let her get you alone and don't give her what she wants —" He shrugged. "She could make it look bad for you. There are some here who don't mind trading themselves for food or favors, but they usually learn better and they aren't well liked. We'll remember who they are when we're on Venus."
Malik thought of all the times he had dismissed Guardians with no more than a gesture. Nikolai was grinning; he wondered what the young man was thinking. He remembered how easily he had once called up the records of any person who interested him and how rarely he had concerned himself with how vulnerable that person might feel. He knew nothing of what had brought Nikolai to this camp; he was a stranger, his record now inaccessible.
"Yekaterina likes you, too," Nikolai went on, "and she's a pretty enough woman. You probably wouldn't mind getting her inside your tent when Alexei's off somewhere. But you were a Linker — maybe it won't be the same for you now. I heard a Linker can look through someone else's eyes and see what they're seeing or hear what they hear."
"You've been misinformed," Malik said. "We can't read minds, you know. We can communicate, of course, and the cyberminds can show us images of what another Linker's seeing if his Link is open and he's willing to —"
"Must come in handy during sex," Nikolai interrupted. "You could let others look on or watch them yourself if they let you."
"No. You've got some odd ideas about Linkers." In spite of his denial, Malik had heard of Linkers who occasionally shared images of
Two of Nikolai's friends were wrestling on the open ground beyond the tents. Several in the camp filled the long hours with such pursuits — footraces, wrestling, acrobatic feats, or violent games with tattered balls and sticks. The efforts kept them fit, and a serious injury, which could always be passed off as an accident, might eliminate at least one competitor for a place aboard a ship. Malik was careful to avoid such contests, as well as the betting of food or personal possessions that often accompanied them.
A female Guardian stood near the post, watching the wrestlers. Nikolai gestured at her. "I'll tell you what I heard about that bitch. She got tired of waiting for passage, so she joined the Guardians instead."
Malik frowned. "Was she in this camp?"
"Of course not. They wouldn't keep somebody like that in the same camp — there'd be more chance of trouble. A couple of people joined from here, and they got sent somewhere else afterward. They'll take ones they can use, and she'll probably be more grateful to them than most. Just as well we won't have that sort on Venus — someone who'd join the Guardians instead of patiently waiting."
Malik rubbed at his chin; the skin of his face felt slightly raw. He had removed his stubble, but the harsh depilatory cream the lavatory provided irritated him.
One of the wrestlers pinned the other, then released him. The two men rose and began to wander toward the yurts. "The officer in charge now, Keir Renin, got here a few months ago," Nikolai continued. "The one before him was harder in some ways. She'd use any reason to throw someone out, and always kept to the rules, but at least the women were a little safer. It's better for them if the officer's a woman and keeps the male Guardians in line. Keir Renin will just look the other way. It's why I told Yekaterina Osipova to be careful — there wouldn't be much she could do if a Guardian or two caught her alone."
Malik felt his own helplessness. "Her brother would go after anybody who hurt her."
"He'd be a fool if he did. They're armed and we're not. He'd just ruin things for himself, and he wouldn't help her."
The Guardian was gazing at Malik now. She seemed vaguely familiar; she might have been in the room where he had been scanned.
"You'd better look out for her," Nikolai muttered. "You're probably used to women eying you like that, but if you let her get you alone and don't give her what she wants —" He shrugged. "She could make it look bad for you. There are some here who don't mind trading themselves for food or favors, but they usually learn better and they aren't well liked. We'll remember who they are when we're on Venus."
Malik thought of all the times he had dismissed Guardians with no more than a gesture. Nikolai was grinning; he wondered what the young man was thinking. He remembered how easily he had once called up the records of any person who interested him and how rarely he had concerned himself with how vulnerable that person might feel. He knew nothing of what had brought Nikolai to this camp; he was a stranger, his record now inaccessible.
"Yekaterina likes you, too," Nikolai went on, "and she's a pretty enough woman. You probably wouldn't mind getting her inside your tent when Alexei's off somewhere. But you were a Linker — maybe it won't be the same for you now. I heard a Linker can look through someone else's eyes and see what they're seeing or hear what they hear."
"You've been misinformed," Malik said. "We can't read minds, you know. We can communicate, of course, and the cyberminds can show us images of what another Linker's seeing if his Link is open and he's willing to —"
"Must come in handy during sex," Nikolai interrupted. "You could let others look on or watch them yourself if they let you."
"No. You've got some odd ideas about Linkers." In spite of his denial, Malik had heard of Linkers who occasionally shared images of
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