by Joe Vasicek
“About what?”
“About—he asked if I was willing to take you as a second wife.”
So that’s what he wants to talk about, Mariya thought to herself. Her heart beat a little faster, and she leaned forward without hardly realizing it.
“He spoke with you already? Great! What do you think?”
“I—” Jeremiah paused, as if unsure what to say. The expression on his face made her stomach fall.
He doesn’t want me.
“I don’t know,” he said. “To be honest, it seems like a strange thing to ask.”
“Strange? How?”
“Well … you’re young, you’re outgoing, you’re pretty … I just don’t understand why you’re in such a hurry. I mean, there’s lots of single guys out there—”
“Not on the Hope of Oriana,” she interjected. Already, she was lining up in her mind all of the ways the conversation could go, trying to figure out how best to respond. It was as if half a dozen alarms were ringing in her head, and she was trying to steer things away from absolute disaster. Whatever else happened, she could not let him slip.
“Yeah,” he said, “but there are lots of single starfarers in the Outworlds—thousands, if not hundreds of thousands. A few of them are bound to come to Zarmina before too long—it’s not like we’re going to be cut off forever. Besides, you’re still young. Time is on your side.”
His words made her think of Benyamin. She swallowed hard at the painful memories and took a deep breath.
“That’s what they told me when I was still betrothed.”
“You mean back at Oriana Station?”
“Yeah. One day, we had our lives planned out to the names of all our children. The next, he was on a Coreward starship, and I was on the Hope of Oriana headed to the middle of nowhere.”
If she had hoped to gain Jeremiah’s sympathy, it didn’t work. He folded his arms and stared at her impassively, making her jaw tighten.
“Look,” she said, her voice leaking desperation, “I know you probably think this is crazy—we barely even know each other, after all—but when you married Noemi, you didn’t know her either. You didn’t even speak the same language, and yet it still worked out for you. Why can’t it work out for us?”
“But Mariya, I have feelings for Noemi.”
“And I’m not asking you to give those up—not at all. In fact, I think this will help you to be even closer to her.”
From the look on his face, he didn’t seem to be buying it. He reached up to rub his forehead, but Mariya pressed on with renewed vigor.
“We’re practically best friends, and you need me to help you learn the language. If we’re already this connected, why shouldn’t we all be tied together through marriage? It would make everything so much simpler.”
“Look, I know you feel really insecure right now,” he said, “and I want to help you—really, I do. But marry you? Noemi and I have already been through so much—it feels like betraying her just to consider it.”
“It’s not a betrayal,” she said. “Besides, I know you’re capable of sharing your feelings with more than one woman.”
He frowned. “How?”
“Don’t you remember that girl on Oriana Station? You know, the one you kissed to get us on this ship?”
“That was different,” he said quickly, but his tone had already changed. His voice carried a hint of doubt, and his eyes were wider than they’d been just a moment ago.
Go easy, she told herself, her hands cold and clammy. You don’t want to drive him away—not now.
“I know,” she said, “and I’m not judging you for that. Really, I’m not. It’s just …”
“Just what?”
“Just—if you’re capable of sharing that part of yourself, even for a moment, then maybe—I mean, can’t we just give it a chance?”
Their eyes met, and to her intense delight, she saw that his mind was already starting to change. He still seemed confused, of course, but his resistance was slowly breaking down, just as Noemi’s had. If she played her hand right—
“You really are serious about this, aren’t you?”
She bit her lip again and nodded, never taking her eyes off of him. His expression had begun to change into a strange mixture of sympathy and resignation.
“If I said yes, are you sure you wouldn’t come to regret it? That when things are a little more settled and we’ve established ourselves on the new world, that you won’t ever resent having to share a man with another woman?”
“No—it’s not like that at all,” she said quickly. “Noemi and I are like sisters—there wouldn’t be any jealousy between us. In fact, I think this would make us even closer. It couldn’t be more perfect—it really couldn’t.”
He groaned and shook his head. “I don’t know—I seriously doubt that.”
“But it’s true! I’ve already talked with her about it, and she agrees.”
“Wait—you what?”
In an instant, everything changed. The sympathy evaporated from Jeremiah’s face, replaced by anger. His nostrils flared, and the fire in his eyes made Mariya shrink.
“I—I talked with her,” she explained, “and she told me she’s open to the idea. We’re already so close, I’m sure we could make it work.”
Blood rushed to Jeremiah’s cheeks, and his face reddened the way her father’s did whenever he was about to fight with her mother. Instinctively, she pulled away from him.
“When did you talk with her?”
“Just a day or two ago—probably when my father was talking with you about the very same thing. I—”
Without warning, he threw out the other wall chair and pulled down the second dream monitor from the ceiling compartment. Mariya flinched and made as if to cover herself, but he sat down, ignoring her.
“Wait!” she cried. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to talk with my wife,” said Jeremiah. He leaned forward to part the hair at the base of his skull.
“But—but don’t you want me to translate for you?”
“No.”
Before she could stop him, he plugged himself in. His arms flopped onto the armrests, and his body went as limp and unconscious as Noemi’s.
What just happened? Mariya wondered, her heart racing. What have I done? Her hands shaking, she stumbled to the airlock and palmed her way through. She had to get out of there—get as far away as possible. Her head spun, and tears burned in her eyes, but she did her best to hide them as she returned to the Hope of Oriana.
* * * * *
It’s never going to be the same, Noemi thought to herself as she walked across the dying landscape. The little stubs of grass jabbed at her feet like needles, digging into her toes and ankles. Not that it mattered.
Dust and leaves blew past her in the chill autumn wind. The trees on the edge of the once-green meadow were naked and bare, just like her arms and legs. The cold air penetrated through the thin fabric of her dress, making her shiver uncontrollably. Still, there was something almost soothing about the pain—it reflected the feelings of her heart, the almost overwhelming sense of loss. Overhead, the colors in the sky deepened, and the clouds turned crimson as the sun dipped low on the horizon. Night was coming, and with it the end of the simulated world.
But wasn’t her world outside of the simulator also coming to an end? Not literally, of course—she would still be alive, still have a future to work toward. With the addition of Mariya to their marriage, however, things between her and Jeremahra would no longer be the same. Those intimate moments they’d shared together, alone in the depths of space—how precious they now felt to her! But those moments were in the past, and she wasn’t going to get them back.
I shouldn’t be so selfish, she told herself, gazing out at the rapidly setting sun. Mariya deserves a good husband and family just as much as I do. Where they were going, there was no guarantee of ever finding a man for her. She’d heard stories about the Far Outworlds, how some settlements went for de
cades without contact from the outside universe. It wasn’t unheard of for starfarers to report arriving at a distant outpost, only to find that all the inhabitants had perished and their orbital stations were little more than lifeless derelicts. If she were in Mariya’s place, she’d be just as desperate.
She reached her hands to the underside of her belly and held them there, feeling the warmth that emanated from her womb. As the sky turned orange and the mountains turned purple and red, it felt almost as if she were carrying a whole world inside of her, not just her husband’s child. As one world passed away, another would replace it. Even in the throes of their fiery death, the stars spewed forth the seeds of rebirth.
As she watched from the top of the meadow, she heard the crunch of boots on the dead, dry stalks behind her. “Noemi!” a voice carried over on the wind. She took a deep breath—it was Jeremahra.
He ran up to her, briefly taking her in his arms before he realized just how frail her emaciated body was. She bit her lip and met his gaze. The sharp look of worry and anxiety on his face made a lump rise in her throat. He fidgeted with his hands, as if he longed to help her but didn’t know. It was clear that he was deeply concerned for her sake.
“What wrong?” he asked.
Noemi shrugged and looked away. How could she possibly explain how she felt? Even without the language barrier, she didn’t think she had words for it. At least this was all just a simulation—at least she wasn’t torturing herself in real life.
Jeremahra clapped his broad hands onto her shoulders and turned her gently to face him. The crimson of the darkening sky only deepened the intensity of his expression.
“Mariya?” he asked. His next few words were spoken too quickly for her to catch every word. The meaning, though, was clearly written on his face. His nostrils flared, and eyes burned with sudden rage, like the rapidly growing blaze of a mountain wildfire.
“No,” said Noemi, putting a hand on his chest to calm him. “No—Mariya friend.” She’s not to blame for the way I feel. I am.
Jeremahra spoke again, words spilling out like an angry torrent. It was clear that he didn’t believe her—that he saw Mariya as an enemy. Of course, that was a problem—any sort of animosity would only lead to unnecessary drama in the future.
He raised his voice, but before he could shout Noemi put a finger on his lips. “Shh,” she said, trying to think of the best way to get through to him. She let out a long breath, and the world slowly spun around them. Time became as fluid as her emotions, and the sunset darkened until the starry band of the galaxy shown bright across the starry sky.
The view reminded her of the starfield outside the cockpit window of the Ariadne. She closed her eyes and pictured the starship in her mind. The cold autumn wind disappeared, replaced by the warmth of the recycled air with its comforting, familiar smell. She opened her eyes and they were in the cabin, recreated perfect in every detail from the placement of the wall compartments to the scuff marks on the floors and handholds. They’d spent so much time on the Ariadne together that she was able to pull almost every detail straight from memory.
Jeremahra sobbed quietly, and she put her arms around him. The resonance of the place was quite strong, and his emotions mingled freely with hers. He clearly missed their time alone together just as much as she did.
“I love you, Noemi,” he said softly. “Don’t want lose you.”
“I stay,” she said, rubbing his back until the tears slowly stopped coming. “Jeremahra no afraid—I stay.”
“That good.”
It’s not just the end, she thought, searching for some way to tell him. It’s the start of something as well.
“Happy?” she asked. His eyes were still red, but he managed to give her a smile.
“Yes. Much.”
Then come with me.
She led him into the cockpit, where the softly glowing starfield filled their view. Off in the distance, a starship came into view—the Hope of Oriana. By concentrating on the way she’d felt when they’d arrived at Alpha Oriana after their first voyage alone together, she managed to get across a small part of the loss she now felt. After all, Oriana Station had marked their first time integrating back into human society, with all of its petty obstacles. It wasn’t exactly the end of their honeymoon period, but it did represent the encroachment of outside concerns.
She pointed out the window at the Hope of Oriana. “We go,” she said, squeezing his hand to let him know that she wasn’t ever going to leave him.
Jeremahra tensed. He wasn’t quite as angry as before, but she still saw the rage lingering in his eyes.
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “We don’t have do this. It does not to be way.”
“Don’t afraid,” she said. “I love you.”
He spoke again, so quickly that his words all blurred together and made her dizzy. She took a deep breath and prepared to try again.
“Don’t afraid. I—”
But before she could finish, he jacked out and disappeared.
She stood for a moment in the simulation of the Ariadne, unsure whether to jack out. If he didn’t understand her here in the simulator, then nothing she could say out there would make any difference.
Lord of Earth, she prayed silently as she buried her head in her hands. I don’t know if I just made a mess of everything, but if I did, please help him to understand and accept thy will.
Even though the prayer was for Jeremahra, it applied to her almost more.
Chapter 15
I’ve made a mess of everything, Mariya thought to herself as she folded her clothes. She and her mother weren’t the only ones in the narrow laundry room on the Hope of Oriana, but she was so absorbed in her melancholy thoughts that it certainly felt that way.
“Just pile the socks in the basket—we’ll take care of those later,” said her mother. No doubt she was anxious to get out of the space before the next rotation. With only three universal washer machines dedicated exclusively to laundry use, the passengers kept a strict wash schedule. Mariya folded the clothes as quickly as she could, knowing that in just a few minutes, the next group would come in to replace them.
Still, her mind wandered inevitably back to Jeremiah. Was he still angry with her? She longed to talk with him, if only to explain herself, but he’d taken off on a planetside ferry, and probably wouldn’t be back for a day or two. In the meantime, all she could do was wait, and she hated waiting more than she hated anything.
Besides, what was he so angry about? That she’d talked with Noemi first, before he’d had a chance? Well, what did he expect—that they would keep her clueless about the whole thing? That they would do anything without first getting her permission?
But you never really got her permission, a nagging voice whispered from the back of her head. You pressured her into it without really getting an answer.
Mariya tensed her arms and drew in a sharp breath, but inwardly she knew it was true. The way her father had pressured Jeremiah—she was doing the same thing. Was Noemi really in a position to say no? Maybe that was why Jeremiah was so angry. Maybe he should be angry.
But what if she does say no? Mariya wondered, her heart beating a little faster. What if I give her the choice, and she—
“Better hurry up, dear,” said her mother. The next group to use the laundry room was waiting by the door. A small pile of unfolded clothes still sat on the counter-top between them.
“Sorry, Mom,” Mariya said, chiding herself for getting carried away in her thoughts.
“What are you thinking about, dear?”
“Oh, nothing,” she lied.
“Come on—I know how to read you better than that. Are you thinking about Jeremiah?”
She cringed. “Yeah.” Sort of.
“You seem worried, though. What’s the matter?”
“I—Mom, when you married Dad, did you give him the chance to say ‘no’?”
The question surprised both of them.
“Of course, dear,” her
mother said with a little laugh. “Your father was a star wanderer, with his own starship and the freedom to go anywhere. He could have turned me down at any time. In the long months when I waited for him, I often feared that he had.”
“Yes, but grandpa guilted him into coming back by repairing his ship. And you were pretty aggressive about courting him, weren’t you?”
Her mother smiled as she folded the last of the clothes and put them in the basket. “Mariya, dear, sometimes people don’t know what’s good for them. A lot of young star wanderers don’t know what they want until it’s right in front of them. And even then, sometimes they need a little push.”
“But he still could have said ‘no,’ right?”
They walked together out of the laundry room and back toward the bunk rooms, carrying the basket between them. The hallway was much less crowded, with most of the passengers still planetside or on B’tum station.
“Of course he could. I may have been a little aggressive, but I didn’t force him. It was still his choice.”
But it won’t be Noemi’s.
“Is something the matter, dear? You look a little pale.”
“What?” said Mariya. “Oh, don’t worry—I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”
“If you’re worried about pressuring Jeremiah, don’t be. He’s not the only one making a sacrifice. Besides, as hard as it seems now, when you look back on this time a few years from now, it won’t seem nearly so bad.”
“Are you sure?”
Her mother hesitated. “Of course, dear. Everything will work out just fine in the long run. It’s going to take an adjustment on everyone’s part, but with effort I’m sure it will work out just fine.”
With effort. That right there was the key. If Noemi and Jeremiah didn’t open their marriage of their own choice, then they wouldn’t be motivated to make the effort for it to work. As much as Mariya’s mother denied it, the truth was that she had pushed her husband into marrying her—and look at what had come of it. Mariya’s brothers were gone, her cousins and aunts and uncles were practically on the other side of the universe, and her parents had spent most of her life fighting with each other. A strong family shines brighter than all the stars—if that was true, it was only because all the parties involved made it that way. It took more than one person to make a marriage.
