easier for me by making me think I'd regret such a choice."
That was partly true; Benzi would do the Earthman no favor by encouraging his dream. "You'd be better off accepting your lot and making your peace with whatever you find on Venus." He kept his voice as firm as possible. "You don't really want to escape to a Hab — you want to recapture what you've lost — your easy life, your quiet pursuits. If you were offered your old life now, you'd take it without a qualm, I suspect. You're probably used to having others ease your way, but no Habber's going to do that for you. Accept what you have now, or you'll never make a life for yourself."
"Did you?"
Benzi smiled ruefully. "I was young then and not overly reflective, and now I'm here, helping others reach the world I abandoned. A new world needs such people — those who take a risk to get there and who will value what they find. Maybe you should try to become more like them."
Malik was silent. Benzi turned away from him and walked back to the tower; there was nothing more to say.
* * *
Keir Renin, the officer in charge of the camp, was a broad-faced man, who seemed to regard his assignment as some sort of punishment. He skulked in the tower for much of the day, complaining about supplies, glancing at records, and questioning his subordinates about matters in the camp, which he rarely entered. He seemed as much a prisoner as the people he guarded.
The officer had unexpectedly invited Benzi to share a meal with him, and Benzi had accepted, unsure of how to refuse without offending the man. The invitation included Te-yu, who had come along so that Benzi would not have to endure Keir's company alone.
The small table in Keir's room was laden with fresh vegetables and melons appropriated from supplies sent to the camp, whose people could survive on minimal allotments. Many of the Guardians were not above trading the food to inmates for favors. The would-be emigrants were in no position to complain, and records would show that the provisions had reached the camp safely.
Benzi was expecting Keir to ask him about his conversation with Malik Haddad; he had prepared an innocuous story about their talk. Instead, the officer was droning on about his home near Odessa and his hopes for his next assignment. Te-yu's face was calm, her eyes blank, her lips curved in a half-smile; Benzi saw that she was profoundly bored.
Keir got up, rummaged among some belongings on a shelf, and pulled out a bottle. He waved it at Te-yu's cup as he sat down again. "We aren't supposed to drink here," Keir said, "but I've got a little trade going with a village nearby, and I don't see the harm in a bit of refreshment." He motioned at the cup once more.
"No, thank you," Te-yu said.
"Habbers don't drink?"
"Some do and some don't," Benzi replied. "We generally prefer to keep our minds clear." Keir Renin would be expecting such haughty remarks from a Habber, and Benzi could not resist making them. "I'll try some, though."
Keir poured some of the liquor into Benzi's cup. "I had some schooling, you know," the officer said, "but I wasn't chosen for advanced education." His Anglaic was fluent enough, but he lingered a bit over longer words, drawing out each syllable. "My Counselor sort of suggested that I try the Guardians, and after I thought about it, it seemed like a good idea. They sent me to Baghdad for officers' training. I've been a Guardian for twenty years, and this is the first time I've had my own command." He gulped down some liquor, then folded his arms across his broad chest. "I keep hoping they'll send me for Linker training, make a Commander out of me."
"Well, maybe they will," Benzi said politely, although that seemed a goal beyond Keir's reach.
"I doubt it. You can't show what you're made of here. They give two kinds this post — young ones who look promising and older ones they can't find anything else for. The young ones get a little experience, and the older ones just mark
That was partly true; Benzi would do the Earthman no favor by encouraging his dream. "You'd be better off accepting your lot and making your peace with whatever you find on Venus." He kept his voice as firm as possible. "You don't really want to escape to a Hab — you want to recapture what you've lost — your easy life, your quiet pursuits. If you were offered your old life now, you'd take it without a qualm, I suspect. You're probably used to having others ease your way, but no Habber's going to do that for you. Accept what you have now, or you'll never make a life for yourself."
"Did you?"
Benzi smiled ruefully. "I was young then and not overly reflective, and now I'm here, helping others reach the world I abandoned. A new world needs such people — those who take a risk to get there and who will value what they find. Maybe you should try to become more like them."
Malik was silent. Benzi turned away from him and walked back to the tower; there was nothing more to say.
* * *
Keir Renin, the officer in charge of the camp, was a broad-faced man, who seemed to regard his assignment as some sort of punishment. He skulked in the tower for much of the day, complaining about supplies, glancing at records, and questioning his subordinates about matters in the camp, which he rarely entered. He seemed as much a prisoner as the people he guarded.
The officer had unexpectedly invited Benzi to share a meal with him, and Benzi had accepted, unsure of how to refuse without offending the man. The invitation included Te-yu, who had come along so that Benzi would not have to endure Keir's company alone.
The small table in Keir's room was laden with fresh vegetables and melons appropriated from supplies sent to the camp, whose people could survive on minimal allotments. Many of the Guardians were not above trading the food to inmates for favors. The would-be emigrants were in no position to complain, and records would show that the provisions had reached the camp safely.
Benzi was expecting Keir to ask him about his conversation with Malik Haddad; he had prepared an innocuous story about their talk. Instead, the officer was droning on about his home near Odessa and his hopes for his next assignment. Te-yu's face was calm, her eyes blank, her lips curved in a half-smile; Benzi saw that she was profoundly bored.
Keir got up, rummaged among some belongings on a shelf, and pulled out a bottle. He waved it at Te-yu's cup as he sat down again. "We aren't supposed to drink here," Keir said, "but I've got a little trade going with a village nearby, and I don't see the harm in a bit of refreshment." He motioned at the cup once more.
"No, thank you," Te-yu said.
"Habbers don't drink?"
"Some do and some don't," Benzi replied. "We generally prefer to keep our minds clear." Keir Renin would be expecting such haughty remarks from a Habber, and Benzi could not resist making them. "I'll try some, though."
Keir poured some of the liquor into Benzi's cup. "I had some schooling, you know," the officer said, "but I wasn't chosen for advanced education." His Anglaic was fluent enough, but he lingered a bit over longer words, drawing out each syllable. "My Counselor sort of suggested that I try the Guardians, and after I thought about it, it seemed like a good idea. They sent me to Baghdad for officers' training. I've been a Guardian for twenty years, and this is the first time I've had my own command." He gulped down some liquor, then folded his arms across his broad chest. "I keep hoping they'll send me for Linker training, make a Commander out of me."
"Well, maybe they will," Benzi said politely, although that seemed a goal beyond Keir's reach.
"I doubt it. You can't show what you're made of here. They give two kinds this post — young ones who look promising and older ones they can't find anything else for. The young ones get a little experience, and the older ones just mark
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