the justification for his power lies. Those who oppose the Mukhtars aren't just their enemies, but God's. Earth will make its agreements with you and hold to them. The Mukhtars always honor their formal agreements, but they also see any they make with Habbers as temporary ones. Surely your people still know that Islam means surrender and submission to the truth. I would have done well to remember that myself, but my faith was always weak and my practical sense almost nonexistent." Malik glanced at Benzi. "Well, I've lectured enough — old habits are strong. I don't believe I've heard your name."
"Benzi. I was named for a friend of my father's."
"Your father? I was under the impression your people don't have family ties."
"That isn't quite true. Some are raised by their genetic parents, while others have close ties to the adults who brought them up and to those children among whom they were raised. Habbers are encouraged not to assign those connections the importance they have here, where a family can often put its own interests above those of their community." He was speaking of Habbers as though he weren't really part of them, but then that was how he often felt. "Benzi Liangharad is my full name." The words sounded strange to him; he had not said his full name aloud in years. Habitat-dwellers did not customarily use family or ancestral surnames.
"Then you weren't always a Habber," Malik said. Benzi tensed a little. "I think I've heard your name before or seen it somewhere, but I can't place it now. It's one of the few drawbacks to a Link. Your memory gets weaker, since you don't have to rely on it, but you must know about that."
Benzi hesitated, wondering how much he should reveal. The Guardians here knew nothing of his past. They could have done nothing to him even if they had known, but it was simpler to keep his history to himself. The secret now seemed like a burden, and a man in Malik's position would hardly be anxious to admit to others that he had spoken to one whom Earth would see as a traitor.
Maybe, Benzi thought, I still feel the need to justify my actions.
"You may recall," he said, "that a group of pilots fled from Venus's Islands to the nearest Hab almost forty years ago. You might remember that incident, since it was partly responsible for various problems afterward. I was one of those pilots."
Malik slowed his pace. "Of course. Iris Angharads, the specialist who — part of your name is like hers. Can you be —"
"Yes, I'm the martyr's son." His throat tightened a little. "Your memory's better than you think."
The Earthman shook his head. "Not really. As it happens, a mind-tour producer spoke to me about Iris Angharads not long before my subsequent difficulties, although it seems your mother is more widely known on Venus than here. That was something this particular producer hoped to remedy. Your own name is fairly obscure. When Iris Angharads lost her life, I suppose it was better to forget what her son had done."
"So that her memory wouldn't be tarnished," Benzi whispered.
"So that her act could be seen as a sacrifice for the Nomarchies and the future of the Project rather than, perhaps, as an attempt to make up for her son's deed." Malik did not appear terribly shocked by Benzi's admission or disgusted by his action. "How fascinating that you should come here."
Benzi felt the familiar twinge of guilt. "Iris is something of a minor heroine to Habbers, too, since she managed to save Habber lives. That was one of the reasons some of us decided that the Habs owed her a debt and continued to aid the Project she so loved."
"It must have been hard for you when you learned of her death."
"It was. It still is. But Iris acted as she did for her own reasons. I doubt that she was thinking of me, or had any fondness for those Habbers she saved — she would have been concerned with the Project's future and the fact that it still needed our help. I'm sure she had no intention of dying. She'd simply lived
"Benzi. I was named for a friend of my father's."
"Your father? I was under the impression your people don't have family ties."
"That isn't quite true. Some are raised by their genetic parents, while others have close ties to the adults who brought them up and to those children among whom they were raised. Habbers are encouraged not to assign those connections the importance they have here, where a family can often put its own interests above those of their community." He was speaking of Habbers as though he weren't really part of them, but then that was how he often felt. "Benzi Liangharad is my full name." The words sounded strange to him; he had not said his full name aloud in years. Habitat-dwellers did not customarily use family or ancestral surnames.
"Then you weren't always a Habber," Malik said. Benzi tensed a little. "I think I've heard your name before or seen it somewhere, but I can't place it now. It's one of the few drawbacks to a Link. Your memory gets weaker, since you don't have to rely on it, but you must know about that."
Benzi hesitated, wondering how much he should reveal. The Guardians here knew nothing of his past. They could have done nothing to him even if they had known, but it was simpler to keep his history to himself. The secret now seemed like a burden, and a man in Malik's position would hardly be anxious to admit to others that he had spoken to one whom Earth would see as a traitor.
Maybe, Benzi thought, I still feel the need to justify my actions.
"You may recall," he said, "that a group of pilots fled from Venus's Islands to the nearest Hab almost forty years ago. You might remember that incident, since it was partly responsible for various problems afterward. I was one of those pilots."
Malik slowed his pace. "Of course. Iris Angharads, the specialist who — part of your name is like hers. Can you be —"
"Yes, I'm the martyr's son." His throat tightened a little. "Your memory's better than you think."
The Earthman shook his head. "Not really. As it happens, a mind-tour producer spoke to me about Iris Angharads not long before my subsequent difficulties, although it seems your mother is more widely known on Venus than here. That was something this particular producer hoped to remedy. Your own name is fairly obscure. When Iris Angharads lost her life, I suppose it was better to forget what her son had done."
"So that her memory wouldn't be tarnished," Benzi whispered.
"So that her act could be seen as a sacrifice for the Nomarchies and the future of the Project rather than, perhaps, as an attempt to make up for her son's deed." Malik did not appear terribly shocked by Benzi's admission or disgusted by his action. "How fascinating that you should come here."
Benzi felt the familiar twinge of guilt. "Iris is something of a minor heroine to Habbers, too, since she managed to save Habber lives. That was one of the reasons some of us decided that the Habs owed her a debt and continued to aid the Project she so loved."
"It must have been hard for you when you learned of her death."
"It was. It still is. But Iris acted as she did for her own reasons. I doubt that she was thinking of me, or had any fondness for those Habbers she saved — she would have been concerned with the Project's future and the fact that it still needed our help. I'm sure she had no intention of dying. She'd simply lived
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