Free The Golden Space by Pamela Sargent Page A

how they all sounded? She wanted to tiptoe back to the study, but puzzlement and curiosity held her as she listened:
     
    RAMLI (firmly) : Don’t worry, I just have to make two calls. I won’t be on long. Then we’ll go. Why get there early?
    TENO: I know I shouldn’t, but, uh, I always feel so silly there. Li Hua’s so intelligent she always makes me feel ignorant.
    ALEPH: You know what I think? We could do with some tough times again. Builds character. Everyone’s getting soft. If we had some hardships, a lot of people wouldn’t make it.
    NENIM (whining) : I get depressed when I hear that. You’re a hard person.
    YOSHI (gruffly) : The last time I was on Asgard, I noticed an interesting refinement in their holo transmissions.
    LINSAY: Not again. Do we have to listen to that again?
    TENO: Now, don’t be so rude.
     
    Josepha peered around the staircase once more, still hidden in the shadows. She felt like a spy. Ramli was sitting on the sofa slouched over, feet extended. Teno fluttered around the room nervously, looking very pretty and very insecure. Nenum lounged in the corner, gazing seductively at Ramli. Pained by the too-familiar scene, Josepha closed her eyes for a moment.
    When she opened them, the children were themselves, seated on the floor, arms folded, murmuring softly. “I don’t understand it,” Teno said clearly.
    “It’s the way they are,” Aleph replied. “You know that. They’re confused.”
    “That’s not what I meant. They wanted us to be different from them, right?” Teno paused. “That means they wanted us to be better. So if they think we’re better, then why don’t they act more like us?”
    “You know why,” Linsay said. “They can’t help it. Their bodies are different. They like feelings but they lie about them, too. They lie about sex the most.”
    “Well, I don’t know why people like to think things that aren’t true. When I touch myself or Ramli does, it feels nice and that’s all, but they act as if it’s the most important thing in the world.”
    “It must feel different to them,” Nenum muttered.
    “But they made us so we’re different,” Teno said. “I don’t think they like themselves the way they are. And if they liked us, they’d try to be like us. They have minds, they can think. So if they aren’t like us, it has to be because they can’t help it and their feelings are stronger, or it’s because they don’t like the way we are either.”
    “But they made us this way,” Ramli responded.
    “We’re an experiment. Experiments don’t always work.”
    Josepha crept back to her study, knowing she had eavesdropped too long. She paused at her desk, remembering the calmness in the young voices as well as the eerie precision with which they had imitated the adults. The voices had lacked both humor and contempt. They had only been trying to make sense of their parents’ behavior.
    She wondered what else the children might be concluding about them.
     
     
    Josepha shivered slightly in her light jumpsuit and jacket. Gurit Stern stood with her. The weather was cooler; before them, the lake rippled. The water was calmer near the shore; farther out, the wind was whipping up whitecaps.
    Aleph, Teno, and Ramli were on the dock, tying up the canoe they had taken out that morning. The young ones had wisely decided not to stay out on the lake. There was still time to have a meal inside one of the lodges before going back to the village.
    Gurit, dressed only in a beige short-sleeved shirt and brown slacks, did not seem to feel cold. She smiled sympathetically at Josepha, then walked out onto the dock to make certain the canoe had been tied up properly. There was really no need to check. The children usually made only one mistake before learning a skill.
    She was wondering idly whether they should turn the canoe over on the dock instead when she heard a voice. “Josepha?” She turned and saw Warner and Nenum scurrying down the hill toward the lake. She waved