Free Venus of Dreams by Pamela Sargent

press the door open for the departing visitor. Lilia blushed as Celia complimented her on her blue dress, which Lilia had sewn herself; the other children, Iris saw, would not feel left out.
    The women began to murmur to one another as soon as Celia was outside. Iris went to the window and watched as the Linker's hovercar moved down the road on its cushion of air, raising small dust clouds as it floated west. Constance and Sheryl had crossed the road, where they were now telling the neighbors the news. Iris clasped her hands together. A Linker had traveled here to praise her, and thought enough of her to have her lessons paid for by the Nomarchies. She shivered, almost afraid to show her joy.
    Angharad moved closer to her. "She didn't make a special trip just for you," she said to Iris. "She just happened to be passing by—she said so. I suppose it amuses her to throw a little something your way just to keep you from being troublesome or unhappy. Well, I'm pleased for you, but don't let it go to your head."
    Iris averted her eyes from her mother. She continued to gaze out the window; the women across the road were pointing at her and shaking their heads.
    She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up at Wenda's wrinkled face. "You will learn much," Wenda said in the low but forceful tone she usually reserved for pronouncements and predictions. "But your learning will only bring you into conflict with yourself."
    Iris pulled away, afraid that the old woman had seen too deeply into her soul.
     

 

 
    Four
     
    An armada of floaters arrived in Lincoln in the fall. These airships were freighters; their elongated shadows floated over rooftops and darkened the streets as they moved toward the town silos at the edge of the fields. The silos were emptied; the winnowed and harvested wheat was carried to the granaries in Winnipeg, Omaha, and Kansas City. There had not been as much of a surplus that year, but the weather in other parts of the world had been favorable; the Nomarchies would be able to feed all of Earth's citizens.
    The people of the town had prepared a celebration. Tables had been carried to the town hall; special dishes and delicacies had been cooked, and Lincoln would feast until dawn.
    Iris was helping Eric load their household's contributions to the festival into a cart. Constance had prepared a stew; Sheryl and Wenda had baked a ham. They did not usually eat so much meat, but this was their most important feast, and Iris knew that even the Muslim citizens would surreptitiously sample Sheryl's renowned ham. There were loaves of Angharad's bread and bowls of LaDonna's bean casserole and a salad Elisabeth had prepared. The women had been cooking for days.
    "You're going to be late," Iris said to Eric as Tyree climbed into the cart. Lincoln's few adult male residents, most of the older boys, and any men who were visiting would already be at the town hall setting the tables and keeping the food warm until the women returned from the fields.
    Eric shrugged. "Can't eat until later anyway." Tyree stretched one chubby arm toward a covered dish; Eric pulled the younger boy's hand away. "Aren't you coming?"
    "I'll come over soon." She searched her mind for an excuse. "I promised Angharad I'd make sure the common room was clean for when people come over later, and I forgot to do it."
    Eric pressed the panel underneath the cart's visor; the vehicle began to roll toward the square. Iris walked back into the house. Her friends would be at the town hall, playing games and anticipating the feast; a few men would sneak them some tidbits. More men would be there than usual, some of them old friends or lovers, others strangers who had been near enough to Lincoln to travel there for the festival.
    Iris went into the common room and surveyed the polished tabletops. The room needed no more cleaning, as she had known. She now had the house to herself, and relished the silence; even little Mira was at the town hall, left there with the