“Does it?”
“Vitamin D. It’s produced in the body by the action of sunlight on the skin. That’s worth knowing if you never see the sun.”
“But it can be synthesized,” I said.
“Yes… and it is. Shall we go back to the room and have some more tea?”
I said nothing to this. I don’t know what I had expected by seeing Victoria, but I had not anticipated this. Illusions of some romantic ideal had tempted me during my days working with Malchuskin, and from time to time these had been tempered by a feeling that perhaps she and I might have to adapt to each other; in any event it had never occurred to me that there would be such an undercurrent of resentment. I had seen us working together towards realizing the intimate relationship formed for us by our parents, and somehow shaping it in such a way that it would become a realistic and perhaps even loving relationship. What I had not foreseen was that Victoria had seen us both in larger terms: that I would be forever enjoying the advantages of a way of life forbidden to her.
We stayed on the platform. Victoria’s remark about returning to the room had been ironic, and I was sensitive enough to identify it. Anyhow, I felt that for different reasons we would both prefer to stay on the platform; I did, because my work outside had given me a taste for fresh air, and by contrast I now found the interior of the city buildings claustrophobic, and I supposed Victoria did, for this platform was as near as she could come to leaving the city. Even so, the undulating countryside to the east of the city served as a reminder of the newly discovered difference that separated us.
“You could apply to transfer to a guild,” I said in a moment, “I’m sure—”
“I’m the wrong sex,” she said abruptly. “It’s men only, or didn’t you realize that?”
“No…”
“It hasn’t taken me long to work a few things out,” she went on, speaking quickly and barely suppressing her bitterness. “I’d seen it all my life and never recognized it: my father always away from the city, my mother working in her job, organizing all those things we took for granted, like food and heating and disposal of sewage. Now I have recognized it. Women are too valuable to risk outside. They’re needed here in the city because they breed, and they can be made to breed again and again. If they’re not lucky enough to be born in the city, they can be brought from outside and sent away when they’ve served their purpose.” The sensitive subject again, but this time she didn’t falter. “I know that the work outside the city has to be done, and whatever it is it’s done at risk… but I’ve been given no option. Just because I’m a woman I have no choice but to be kept inside this damned place and learn fascinating things about food production, and whenever I can I have to give birth.”
I said: “Do you not want to marry me?”
“There’s no alternative.”
“Thanks.”
She stood up, walked angrily towards the steps. I followed her down, and walked behind her as she returned to her room. I waited in the doorway, watching her as she stood with her back to me, looking out of the window at the narrow alleyway between the buildings.
“Do you want me to go?” I said.
“No… come in and close the door.”
She didn’t move as I did this.
“I’ll make some more tea,” she said.
“O.K.”
The water in the pan was still warm, and it took only a minute or so to bring it back to boiling.
“We don’t have to marry,” I said.
“If it’s not you it’d be someone else.” She turned and sat beside me, taking her cup of the synthetic brew. “I’ve nothing against you, Helward. You should know that. Whether we like it or not, my life and yours is dominated by the guild system. We can’t do anything about that.”
“Why not? Systems can be changed.”
“Not this one! It’s too firmly entrenched. The guilds have the city sewn up, for reasons I don’t suppose I’ll ever know. Only the guilds can change the system, and they never will.”
“You sound very sure.”
“I am,” she said. “And for the good reason that the system which runs my life is itself dominated by what goes on outside the city. As I can never take part in that I can never do anything to determine my own life.”
“But you could… through me.”
“Even you won’t talk about it.”
“I can’t,” I said.
“Why not?”
“I can’t even tell you that.”
“Guild secrecy.”
“If you like,” I said.
“And even as you’re sitting here now, you’re subscribing to it.”
“I have to,” I said simply. “I was made to swear—”
Then I remembered: the oath itself was one of the terms of the oath. I had breached it, and so easily and naturally that it had been done before I’d thought.
To my surprise, Victoria reacted not at all.
“So the guild system is ratified,” she said. “It makes sense.”
I finished my tea. “I think I’d better go.”
“Are you angry with me?” she said.
“No. It’s just—”
“Don’t go. I’m sorry I lost my temper with you… it’s not your fault. Something you said just now: through you I could determine my own life. What did you mean?”
“I’m not sure. I think I nieant that as the wife of a guildsman, which I’ll be one day, you’d have more of a chance of.
“Of what?”
“Well… seeing through me whatever sense there is in the system.”
“And you’re sworn not to tell me.”
“I… yes.”
“So first-order guildsmen have it all worked out. The system demands secrecy.”
She leaned back and closed her eyes.
I was very confused, and angry with myself. I had been an apprentice for ten days, and already I was technically under sentence of death. It was too bizarre to take seriously, but my memory of the oath was that the threat had been a convincing one at the time. The confusion arose because unwittingly Victoria had involved the tentative emotional commitment we had made to each other. I could see the conflict, but could do nothing about it. I knew from my own life inside the crèche the subtle frustrations that arose through being allowed no access to the other parts of the city; if that were extended to a larger scale — allowed a small part in the running of the city, but given a point beyond which no actions were possible — that frustration would continue. But surely this was no new problem in the city? Victoria and I were not the first to be married in this way. Before us there must have been others who had encountered the same rift. Had they simply taken the system as it appeared to them?
Victoria didn’t move as I left the room and went towards the crèche.
Away from her, away from the inescapable syndrome of reaction and counter-reaction by talking to her, the concerns she expressed faded and I became more worried about my own situation. If the oath were to be taken at all seriously I could be killed if word were to reach one of the guildsmen. Could breaching the oath be that dreadful a thing to do?
Would Victoria tell anyone else what I had said? On thinking this my first impulse was to go back to see her, and plead for her silence… but that would have made both the breach and her own resentment more serious.
I wasted the rest of the day, lying on my bunk and fretting about the entire situation. Later late in one of the dining-rooms of the city, and was thankful not to see Victoria.