by Roger Market
"Is everyone just going to will it to come back?" She waved her hand first at the women and then at the other half of the moon.
He turned to face her, a pair of scissors in his hands.
"Nothing that ridiculous," he said. "But you inspired me earlier. I think I have a plan that will work."
"Finally."
"Don’t be insubordinate, dear. It’s unbecoming of a princess, and you’ll be queen one day. You need to set an example."
She hugged him and looked into his eyes. "I didn’t mean it. I think it’s great you’re making plans." She pulled out of the hug. "Really," she said. "Go on. What’s the plan? What are the scissors for?"
"We’re going to build a bridge."
"A bridge?"
"Yes."
"To the other side of the moon?"
"Yes."
Alana thought for a moment. "But there’s nothing to build with anymore," she said. "And what are the women here for?"
She looked around. There were mounds of dust as far as the eye could see, much of it rising up and forming a cloud that extended several yards above the surface. Interspersed throughout the dust were pieces of buildings that had once stood as part of the mighty kingdom. And standing among the ruins, waiting, were ten women forming a single-file line.
"Construction has already begun," the king said. "Right now, men are out looking. There’s rubble, and we’ll use it. Lengths of rope have been found, chunks of concrete can be used, the trusses of ruined bridges, hair. We’ll use everything we can get our hands on."
"Did you say hair?" she said.
"Everything." He held up the scissors.
"This is mad."
"Then a mad king I will be. It’s the only option we have."
She took a deep breath. She ran her hand through her hair, examining its length.
"I didn’t say your hair," the king said.
"Why not? Mine’s just as good as anyone else’s. Come now, I’ll go first. Give me the scissors. I see what they’re for now."
He held them to his chest. Alana took a step toward him and pulled the scissors from his grip. With her left hand, she gathered her hair into a ponytail, and as she raised the scissors, the king held his breath.
"It’s just hair," Alana said.
She squeezed the handles together, and her ponytail came off in her hand. Then she walked over and handed the scissors to the first woman in line, who cut her own hair off and passed the scissors on. Each woman did the same until the line had depleted.
For several days afterward, men and women continued the search for resources, pulling what little they had from the rubble of their once-glorious kingdom. They brought back the materials piece by piece. Derek was often among this group of scavengers. Alana stayed close to the bridge site in those days to supervise. She did not speak to Derek and did not want to.
When there were enough materials to start building, a team of men and a few women began the process. They started with a base of concrete for strength and, to it, added a glue in the form of paste made from moon dust. The bridge was kept narrow to maximize resources. Blocks of concrete were stacked and glued, extending out from the surface of the moon, toward the other half, and every so often, a piece of wood added more length. The rope and hair provided much of the flooring.
Throughout the first nine weeks of construction, Derek was often in the company of women nearby, hardly working, sometimes disappearing with them. So it was not much of a surprise to anyone when, in the span of a few days, three women revealed they were with child.
The first time, the reaction had been neutral from most of the moonlings. The king himself had even congratulated the woman. When the second woman came forward a few days later, however, the king was not pleased, though he directed his frustration only at Derek.
"We barely have enough food as it is!" he said, spraying a constellation of spit onto the ground. "What will we do with another mouth to feed, boy? What were you thinking?"
Derek frowned. "I wasn’t, but is it so bad?" he said. "Moonlings’ll die out if we don’t do something soon."
"We can’t know that yet. There could be a whole colony on the other side of this bridge. Our supplies are dwindling, and if it comes down to it, you will be the one to go without."
With this declaration, the king left, and the moonlings continued to build. Even Derek kept working, though now he appeared to be lost in thought. Alana watched him for a while and pitied him. Then she went to join her father for the night.
The next day, when the third woman came forward, cowering, barely able to speak the words, the king was enraged. He declared that until the bridge was complete—likely later that day—women should not go near the construction site. Alana was the one exception. He looked around at the women, raising his eyebrows, and they began to leave the site.
"And as for you," he said, pointing at Derek, "there’s only one option. You created life we can’t possibly support. You were careless, and there’s no excuse. So I can’t allow you to go on."
"What’s that mean?" Derek said.
"I think you know."
The king raised his hand. The two men who stood closest to Derek grabbed hold of his arms. He breathed in and then out, and a small puff of dust formed in front of him.
"Is this the only way?" he asked.
"It is."
Derek bowed his head for a moment and then looked at the king. "Then I have to accept it," he said. "I’m sorry, if it’s worth anything."
"It’s not."
The king turned to give Alana a quick nod before storming off. Then Alana looked at Derek and found he was already watching her. Their eyes met as a dust cloud passed through the space between them. She reached out to touch his chest, and the men tightened their grip on his arms.
"What have you done?" she said.
"I didn’t plan it, that’s for sure."
"If you had, you might’ve told me, and I would’ve slapped some sense into you. You’ve put us all in danger. And you’ve hurt me more than any war ever did."
"I didn’t know."
"You didn’t think!" She shoved him with the heel of her hand and then backed away. "You never do, and it makes me crazy."
"I didn’t know you gave me that much thought," he said.
"I guess now there’s not much to think about. Or maybe there’s too much, I can’t decide."
And with that, Alana left him, once more going off in search of her father. She found him sitting by the sea and gazing out at its vast emptiness. She approached from behind. He spoke before she had even reached him.
"You probably would have done things differently. She would have, too."
"Maybe a little."
She put her head on his shoulder.
"Your mother was always better at this than me," he said. "The punishments, the planning, any amount of public speaking. She was fiercer and more cunning than I’ll ever be. She was a better leader, and she would have had this moon back together by now."
"But she’s not here. You are."
"This is true, unfortunately. Where is she when I need her?"
Alana lifted her head. They faced each other.
"I miss her, too," Alana said, "but she’s strong. Like you said, if she’s alive, we’ll find her. Derek will help us. Speaking of Derek, what’re we going to do about him and his children? You certainly can’t mean to kill him for this. He’s been with us for so long."
"You love him."
It was a statement, but it was also a question, and it was one that Alana had never faced directly. She considered her answer.
"If I’m being honest, I’m not sure what I feel now. He can be such an idiot, but I did care for him and maybe still do. Can you spare him? Can we find another way?"
"I know I overreacted. Your love is safe. But there can’t be any more accidents. Clearly, I wouldn’t know how to handle them."
He smiled, and she kissed his cheek. They sat together on the edge of the sea for a while and then made their way back to
the bridge, which now appeared to be complete. He called all the women back to the bridge, and the men began to gather around as well.
"As you may know," the king said when everyone had gathered around him, "certain circumstances have forced me into an embarrassing rage. I’m sorry for acting so harshly in front of you all. Derek, we’ll solve this problem rationally. There’s no sense killing anyone at a time like this."
Alana’s eyes met Derek’s. A feeble smile approached his lips.
"But be warned," the king said. "No more. We have all the moonlings we can sustain until we know what lies on the other side."
He looked at the other half of the moon and then at the bridge. Two men were walking across it, toward them.
"What news?" the king said when they were back on the safety of the moon’s surface.
"It’s done," one of them said. "We can cross."
The king reached for Alana’s hand and squeezed. She looked at him and then at Derek and then at the other moonlings.
"It’s time," the king said. "Soon, we’ll know if there’s life on the other side. And if there’s only death, we’ll face it with dignity and courage. And we’ll rebuild."
He let go of Alana’s hand and then pointed at the bridge.
"After you, dear," he said.
Alana went to the bridge and put one hand on each concrete side. She looked back at Derek as she stepped onto the floor made of rope and hair, and as she turned to face the bridge once more, she coughed, and a small cloud of dust rose up above her. And one by one, with hope in their hearts, the moonlings followed her to the other side of the moon, where they would search for life amid the death they had endured.
Looking
Every evening, the waves come rushing back into the
