The Golden Space by Pamela Sargent Read Free Book Online Page B

bemused.
    Teno and Ramli knelt on the grass, playing an elaborate game with marbles and pebbles; only they knew its rules. Ten meters away, under an elm, Edwin Joreme lay on a brown blanket with his head on Gurit Stern’s lap. Edwin’s child, Linsay, poked at the grass with a stick. Gurit had apparently left Aleph, her child, at home.
    Edwin was a thin man with ash blond hair who looked almost adolescent. Gurit, auburn-haired, green-eyed, and stocky, was one of the few people in the village who still intimidated Josepha. Gurit had been a soldier before the Transition. Although she seemed a friendly, hearty sort, there was something hard in her, a toughness, a competence that made Josepha ill at ease. Watching Gurit, she thought of what the woman must have seen and imagined that she was one who probably savored her extended life instead of simply accepting it.
    Edwin sat up and moved closer to Linsay. He spoke to the child; Linsay listened, then returned to probing the ground. Josepha thought that Gurit might have passed as the mother of both. Lines creased her face at the eyes and mouth, and in the bright afternoon sunlight one clearly saw the threads of gray hair framing her face. Chane had once asked Gurit why she had not wanted a more youthful appearance. She had laughed, saying she got tired of seeing young faces all the time.
    Edwin was still trying to distract Linsay, murmuring to the child intently. Josepha turned to Chane. He had brought some notes with him, but he was ignoring them, gazing absently in the children’s direction.
    “Is something wrong?” she asked.
    He shook his head.
    “What are the notes for?” They were written in Italian and Swahili, two languages she did not know.
    He was silent for a few moments before replying. “Just some reminiscences, personal things, incidents I might otherwise forget.”
    “Can’t you just consult the computer records?”
    “Those are public records, Josepha. They tell nothing of subjective attitudes or personal reactions. And several incidents aren’t recorded.” His lowered eyelids hid his dark eyes from her.
    Impulsively, she touched his arm. Then she heard a cry, a thin, piercing wail.
    Edwin was shaking Linsay, muttering under his breath at the child. Linsay wailed. Josepha froze, not understanding what was happening. Chane jumped to his feet, his red caftan swirling around his ankles.
    Gurit quickly grabbed Edwin’s arms. “Stop it,” she said firmly. “What’s the matter with you?” He pushed her away violently. Trembling, he stared at his child and then, shockingly, slapped Linsay.
    Josepha tensed at the sound. “Why can’t you respond?” Edwin was shouting. “I’m sick to death of it, you’re as bad as a robot, not the slightest human feeling—”
    Gurit again seized Edwin, holding him tightly, and this time he was unable to break away from her strong arms. He crumpled against her. Linsay sat calmly, blond head tilted to one side.
    Josepha got up. “I think we should go,” she murmured to Chane. Teno and Ramli had stopped playing and were staring at Edwin, fascinated. Josepha thought wearily of all the questions she and Chane would have to answer later.
    “We’re going home,” she said to the children.
     
    III
     
    A small death had entered their lives. Josepha and the children were burying the cat.
    They had walked to the woods north of the village and stopped at a weedy clearing. Josepha wore a silvery lifesuit under her gray tunic; she always wore the protective garment when in the forest. She stood under a maple tree, shaded from the summer heat, while Teno and Ramli placed the small furry body in the grave they had dug. The children were dressed only in sleeveless yellow shirts and green shorts. Their stronger bones and muscles did not need lifesuit protection.
    The children were seven now. Their rapid growth and the cat’s death made Josepha feel she was aging. Her child had been a toddler so recently. Now Teno was a student,