Dark Ararat - Brian Stableford [122]
“Told him what?”
“That Bernal died in the dark. It was the dead of night when we found his body, but he’d been stabbed at dusk, or not long after. In the shadow of a wall: an overgrown wall. He wasn’t as strong as he thought or expected, Matthew. You might be, but don’t blame yourself if you’re not. Rand says that it’s just a matter of time, just a matter of getting used to all the subliminals, like the weight and the background noise—that even Tang will feel at home here if he’s prepared to grit his teeth and wait—but we don’t know that. We simply don’t know. Whoever killed Bernal wasn’t quite in his—or her—right mind. We all understand that, even if we’re convinced that we’d have done better. So will you, in time. For now, I’m just trying to prepare you for the letdown.”
“I’m okay,” Matthew assured him. “In fact, I’m better than okay.”
“I know. You’ll probably still be okay, and maybe better than okay, when we get down on to the plain. But you might not be. I’m just trying to give you fair warning. Check it out with the others, if you like. Either Lynn’s fine or she puts on the best act, but she’s been through it.”
“And Dulcie?”
“She’s troubled. Coping, but troubled. As for the people at the other Base—well, nobody knows for sure, but I’d bet half a world to a rundown back garden that if they do take a vote about making representations to Milyukov, the majority will favor a return to orbit. A temporary retreat, of course, and for all kinds of good reasons. But … well, if it’s a show of hands I’d expect a sixty-forty split. If it’s a secret ballot, it’ll probably be nearer eighty-twenty. Milyukov expects it to go the other way, but he doesn’t understand. He can’t. If the vote is stalled, put off for a further year, we might all be further along the cycle, with our worst hangovers cured. On the other hand, we might not. Maybe this is as good as it gets.”
“I can’t believe that,” Matthew said.
“I know. But you will. Maybe sooner, maybe later. Maybe you’ll come out the other side, but the way you were feeling just now can’t and won’t last.” His voice was very even, scrupulously controlled. Matthew could tell that Ike was in deadly earnest, and that he had picked his moment with minute care.
“Right,” Matthew said, keeping his own tone light. “Thanks. I’ll look out for the letdown effect, and I’ll try not to kill anyone if it comes upon me suddenly—or get killed myself.”
Once he was inside the cabin he took the first opportunity to corner Lynn Gwyer. “Did you know that Ike was going to feed me that line?”
She nodded.
“And you agree with him?”
“I agree that there’s a problem,” she said. “A psychological cycle. I think it’s an adaptation process. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if the world wasn’t giving off conflicting signals all the time, sometimes seeming just like home but better and sometimes seeming very strange, sometimes within the scope of the same visual sweep. Either way, we tend to lurch from feelings of intimate connection to feelings of awkward disconnection, and it’s disconcerting. As long as you don’t give way to it, though, you’ll come through.”
“But Tang’s given way?”
“I wouldn’t say that. He’s in control. He’s just a little more sensitive than some. So’s Maryanne.”
“And Bernal?”
“Maybe he was more sensitive than he wanted to be. Maybe he fought it a bit too hard. I don’t know. Ike thinks so, but Bernal and I had … drifted apart. I don’t know.”
Matthew thought about that for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders. If Ike was right, he would find out soon enough, and he was damned if he was going to let the power of suggestion take him over in the meantime. “An idea occurred to me,” he said, emphasizing the change of subject with a summary gesture. “A possible reason why everything here retains photosynthetic pigment, even when following habits and ways of life that aren’t conducive