Homesmind by Pamela Sargent

you held me—a poor creature who couldn't even hear your thoughts."
    Silla covered her face, but not before Anra had seen the guilt in her eyes; she had wounded her mother with the truth.
    "Stop," Harel said. "We know what we've done. We thought too much about ourselves then, about escaping the memories of our suffering, and not enough of the child we were leaving behind. We've tried to make up for it since. Two solitary children were born in our village, and we made sure that they were sent here. That village will kill no more separate selves."
    "How very kind. And if the parents came here, they would not even know their own children—not that it matters. One cripple with the crutch of a link must seem much like another." Anra forced herself not to say more. She should never have come here; she had only spoken cruel words she had not meant to say.
    "I didn't expect forgiveness," Harel said, "but I'd hoped for understanding. I see we'll have punishment instead. Very well—you've punished us, and maybe we deserve no more. There's nothing else to say." He stood up, helping his partner to her feet. "Perhaps if we had touched minds, you might have understood."
    Silla shook her head. "Not at all. She would probably have despised us even more. That's what skydwellers teach them here—to despise Earth. I see she's still a solitary at heart, even with her link. It's her own thoughts that concern her."
    Anra got up. "I wish you hadn't come back at all."
    "There, we are in agreement," Silla said coldly. Harel tugged at his partner's arm, leading her away.
    Lydee and Etey were in the garden, pulling up the last of the weeds. Etey held one plant between her thumb and forefinger, peering at it as if she were afraid of what she might find on its roots. Anra watched them for a moment, thinking of how unaccustomed the two women still were to some tasks, then carried her water inside, storing it in two large jugs.
    A gust of wind whined by when she came back outside; the clouds above were darker. Anra wrestled with the cistern, finally managing to remove its cover.
    A robot was turning the garden's soil, lifting the dirt with its pincers, then scuttling forward on its crablike limbs. Lydee sat back on her heels. She had shed her silver suit and was wearing a light-brown tunic and pants, but silver boots gleamed on her feet; Lydee refused to wear anything made of leather. Etey stood up, stretching. Anra looked around, wondering where Rulek had gone.
    Sensing Anra's thought, Lydee pointed toward the field. In the distance, she could see Rulek's blond head poking above the wheat; he, Riene, and Barla were speaking to Jerod. The bald man turned, leading them all toward his tent. Anra frowned. Rulek might spend the rest of the day there; with skydwellers, one often lost track of time.
    Lydee came to Anra's side and touched her thoughts. —I'm sorry that your meeting with Silla and Harel wasn't more pleasant—
    —I didn't expect it to be—
    —You're stubborn sometimes. You and Silla are alike in that. Well, they won't be here much longer. There's no help we can give them. Marellon and I will return them to their village tomorrow— Lydee sighed. —Silla worries about the Minds, but right now I'm more concerned about the approaching comet—
    —So am I— Etey said as she joined them. —It hasn't turned from its path. Homesmind has plotted its probable route. It's heading directly toward the largest of the planets in this system, and that planet's gravity will deflect it toward us. Homesmind thinks it may intend us harm. It has sensed only a whisper of its Mind, a cold, terrifying whisper unlike any It has ever heard. Already a few of my people are saying that we should leave this system immediately—
    Anra shivered. —What could it want from us?—
    —I don't know. But if Homesmind is worried, there is reason to fear that comet—
    Lightning forked through the sky as thunder rumbled. The three retreated to the hut as rain began to