The Golden Space Read Online Free PDF Page A

asked.
    Most of the villagers had remained only names to her. She saw Chane Maggio fairly often, although even he seemed more reserved. Wanting to know more about her companions, she had resorted to the public records in her computer.
    She had discovered what she had suspected; most of them were veterans of the Transition. Had Merripen wanted older people, or were older people the only ones willing to volunteer for the project?
    Her other discoveries were more intimidating. She reviewed them now as she sat in her living room knitting a sleeve for a sweater. The villagers included Amarisa Drew, who had been both an agronomist and a well-known athlete; Dawud al-Ahmad, former poet and chief engineer of the Asgard life support systems; and Chen Li Hua, a clothing designer and geologist.
    She looked up from the blue wool and saw Merripen Allen entering her courtyard. She called to him, telling him to enter. Her door slid open; Merripen stamped his feet in the small foyer, then entered the living room.
    He settled in a high-backed gray chair in the corner across from her. “What can I do for you?” she asked.
    “I’ve been visiting each person here individually, I want to be sure there aren’t any problems and that everybody’s settling in. I hope you’ll all start loosening up soon, get to know each other better.”
    “That takes time,” she said, “especially if you’re used to solitude. And I have to …”
    “Yes?”
    “I don’t quite know how to put it. Everyone else seems so accomplished.”
    “It’s difficult to live a long time without that being the case.”
    “No, it’s not,” she replied. “I haven’t done much.”
    Merripen chuckled. “Almost everyone I’ve seen has told me that. So I’ll have to tell you what I told them. First of all, I wouldn’t have asked any of you to become involved unless I had a good opinion of you. Second, although I’ve always admired modesty, I don’t like meekness, especially in prospective parents who need strength for any problems they may face. You should all be more at ease when you become better acquainted.”
    “I guess,” she responded, as if accepting his exhortation. He was not deceiving her. Almost no one wanted to be a parent now; of the few who did, most had probably rejected Merripen’s offer. He had probably taken those he could get, rejecting only those obviously unsuitable.
    Merripen seemed worried. He was pulling at his mustache. Josepha resumed her knitting. “I hope,” she said, “that you’re not having doubts.” She said it lightly.
    “Of course I am,” he replied, startling her with his harsh tone.
    “But then why—”
    “Not about you people, not about whether we should go ahead—that’s settled.” She sat up stiffly, clutching her needles, shocked at the way he had interrupted her in mid- sentence.
    “I’m terribly sorry, please forgive me,” he said more quietly. “At any rate, I didn’t come here to discuss my worries. I wanted to talk about your child. Have you decided on who the second parent will be, or do you intend to form a liaison with one of the people here?” Each child, she knew, was to have two biological parents, as that would provide each with more links to other human beings and avoid possible emotional problems for a parent whose child was his or hers alone. It was hoped that the children, whomever they grew up with, would regard all of the people in the village as members of a family. “We need time to make tests, as you know,” he went on. “We have to check for possible incompatibilities or flaws that need correcting.”
    “I’ve decided. I made up my mind a while ago and just didn’t realize it until now.” She put the knitting aside. “Nicholas Krol.”
    “Excuse me?”
    “Nicholas Krol,” she repeated. “The other parent. He was a composer, maybe you’ve heard the name.”
    “Did you know him?”
    “Yes, I knew him. I knew him well. I was in love with him.” As she
spoke, Josepha