by Hugh Howey
Out of the bag fell a dull, normal, alloy of metal. She held it up between her fingers and showed it to Edison. “My gift to you is this broken circle,” she said.
The crowd stirred, the strangeness of the gift sending waves of taboo through a people that idolized the perfect and the round, the harmonious and the unbroken, the shape of their great, ringed world.
Anlyn ignored them and continued: “This is the link you weakened to set me free.”
She watched as tears spilled out of Edison’s eyes and rolled down his furry cheeks. She fought back her own tears and struggled with the rest: “It was my bondage, and you broke it. It was my slavery, and you slayed it. You took out a piece, and then you made me whole.”
She walked forward and set the dull, gapped hoop of her slave chain in his light, then returned to her own illuminated disc.
“I promise to love no other for all the cycles,” Anlyn said, as the loose end of the shivering chain descended between them.
“And I promise to earn that love each moment,” Edison replied.
The chain stopped a meter from the ground, and the minister stepped forward with the prism. He ceremoniously attached it to the end of the chain, bowed to Edison and Anlyn, and then exited the circle. Anlyn watched him go and caught a glimpse of Molly, who was standing behind her. Tracks of tears were on her friend’s cheeks, a smile on her lips.
High above, the chain rattled as it began to spool back up. Anlyn looked at her feet, waiting for the pool of light to move. As the prism ascended over Edison’s head, the two lights quivered, then began to come together. Anlyn and Edison walked with them, shuffling forward, urging the process along. The moment the edges of the two circles of light touched, the crowd erupted yet again. Anlyn and Edison stepped into each other’s arms as the discs became one. They embraced while the prism above was hauled into the overlapping illumination of the two stars, spreading the rays in a glory of hues that made even the residents of that planet, with its eternal sunrise, shiver.
Outside, bells began to ring.
They were followed by the thunder of peaceful explosions.
••••
When Anlyn pulled free, she noticed everyone around the circle was standing and stomping their feet, the boom of their approval mixing with the distant cannons. To her side, Molly and Cole were embracing as well and smiling at each other. Anlyn reached for Edison’s lance. She was tempted to set it off one more time, showering the celebration in sparks, when her uncle’s voice, the voice of the King of Drenard, interrupted her over the Pinnacle’s amplified speakers:
“My people! Attention, please!”
It seemed to take several minutes for those gathered to heed their king. He rose to the top of the clockwise bridge and waved the crowd silent. “My people, we have more to celebrate this day than a marriage between two mere individuals. We also celebrate a union between two empires long at war.” He turned to face the crowd behind him. “We celebrate the stability along both our boundaries that keeps us safe from our true threats. We have learned to distinguish friend from enemy, not letting appearances guide our hearts.”
The king bowed and descended into the circle. The crowd applauded politely, but they were obviously annoyed at having the joyous occasion interrupted by talk of politics. Anlyn smiled at her uncle as he walked toward them, the shiny fabric of his royal tunics shimmering in the colors cast by the hanging prism. He rested a hand on each of the newlyweds’ shoulders and beamed.
“Relationships are like unto alloys,” he said. “The perfect mixture is stronger than either alone, but they are weak while being hammered hot, and are fragile if overly cooled.” He turned to the audience. “The alloy of Human and Drenard will forge the sharpest of Wadi hooks, but we will need guidance on how best to wield them. That’s why I want envoys to travel to Earth and foster this new relationship.”
The king smiled at Anlyn, who was having a hard time processing what he meant through all the metaphor. Was she being exiled to Earth?
“My wife and I are to be those envoys,” her uncle said. “We know better than any the cost of our wars and the price to be paid.” The king reached down and lifted the hem of his outermost layer, his royal cloak, and pulled it over his head. The crowd reacted with coos and whispers. The king turned to Anlyn. He held the cloak open and nodded to her.
Anlyn found herself swimming in a dream. The lights danced through myriad colors as the crowd sucked all the air of the Pinnacle deep into their lungs. Her uncle nodded again, and Anlyn lowered her head, her mind fluttering and dazed. She felt the heavy honeycloth sink to her shoulders, wrapping her with its weight. She looked up to see her uncle holding the front edge of the garment off the ground for her, the back of the tunic dragging behind.
“It has been too many cycles since the peaceful sex ruled the land,” her uncle said quietly to her. Louder, he said: “The empire is yours.”
Whatever the crowd had left, they let it out. The entire Pinnacle shook from the foot-stomping and shouts. Anlyn felt the vibrations from all that noise fluttering against the heavy cloak. She could feel it thrumming in her heart. Edison grabbed her hand and led her forward. He escorted her on a slow stroll around the interior of the great table, a stroll through a dancing rainbow, while he presented to a people his new wife and their new queen.
Anlyn’s uncle, the former king, watched them from the center. After a pause, he bent down and scooped something off the ground. It took him a moment to figure out the modified trigger, but once he did, he set one end of the old weapon on the ground and activated it.
Edison’s lance erupted in the Pinnacle for the second time, throwing up a glory of sparks and a ringing hum that would one day become legend.
54 · Promises
Cole weaved through the raucous crowd of the reception party and tried his best not to spill the two overly full drinks. He looked around for Molly, but it was hard to locate any one person in the wedding celebration. Anlyn and Edison were being seen off on the Drenardian version of a honeymoon, and it seemed everyone on three planets had to take a turn dancing with each of them before they left.
He bumped into Dani, and rather than practice his rough Drenard with the old interrogator, Cole simply yelled Molly’s name over the din. Dani squeezed Cole’s shoulder and steered him around. He pointed through the glass and out toward the balcony.
Cole felt relieved to see her away from the crowd and hurried out to join her, admiring as he walked the spectacle of the Drenard sunset in the distance.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
Molly turned and smiled—a welcomed sight he was gradually getting used to seeing once again. But he also saw something stirring beneath the guise, some lingering pain that needed addressing.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Huh? Yeah. Just thinking.”
“I know that look. You’re doing more than just thinking. Here.” He handed her a glass.
“Thanks,” she said.
He took a sip from his own. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Molly shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Just missing him?”
He held his glass to his lips, waiting on her reply, knowing by now how best to discuss her loss.
Molly shook her head, no longer trying to conceal her dour mood.
“Walter?” Cole asked, still fishing.
Tears fell across Molly’s cheeks, but she shook her head again. “No. Not until you brought them up.” She forced a laugh and wiped at her cheeks, then took a sip from her glass and looked out to the horizon.
Cole stepped by her side and Molly leaned against him, allowing him to wrap an arm around her shoulders.
“I’m prying aren’t I?” Cole asked. “Am I trying too hard? Last time you said I wasn’t trying hard enough.”
Molly pressed her temple against his shoulder. “You’re fine, I promise. I—I just haven’t gotten a handle on this new feeling.”
They stood together and sipped the watered-d
own Wadi juice for a moment.
“How about that parade?” Cole asked, trying to change the subject.
Molly laughed softly and rested her glass on the wide, flat railing before them. She looked into the distance. “Do you remember dreaming of something like that back at the Academy?” she asked him.
Cole laughed. “Yeah, but we always talked about licking the Drenards, not joining them.” He took a sip of the gingery, lemony drink, the foreign taste adding to his ironic sentiment. “And the parade was always in New York,” he said. He lifted his glass to the perpetual sunset before them. “Not anywhere like this.”
“Oh, I’m sure they’re having parades there as well,” Molly said. “I bet Saunders is standing on top of some float as we speak.”
Cole studied Molly’s face while his love peered into the sunrise. The wavering and colorful lights did magnificent things to her eyes.
“Is that what’s got you down?” he joked. “Has seeing one of your Academy fantasies come true ruined your cheerful mood?”
Molly pinched his side as he went to take a sip, causing him to spill Wadi juice down his new tunics.
“Hey!”
“Sorry,” she said, smiling.
“I know what it is,” Cole said, dabbing at the juice with his napkin. He looked up and gave her his most evil grin.
Molly shook her head.
“Yeah, I do. You want a wedding like Anlyn’s, dontcha? You do! You totally want me to sweep you off your feet and give you a sappy gift and cry and go on a vacation!” He taunted her while absorbing her playful blows.
“Not anymore, I don’t!”
Cole looked through the transparent barrier around the balcony and raised his glass. “That’s what it was,” he said.
“No,” Molly said, her voice suddenly serious. “I think it was the confetti. It was all the joy in the crowd.”
“All the joy’s got you down?” Cole scrunched up his face.
Molly turned to face him. “It’s the idea that the war is over and everyone’s safe. How can everyone feel that when the Bern are still out there and some of them are probably still among us? How long before people grow suspicious of each other, or they find some other way through to our galaxy?”
“Drenards, you sure know how to wreck a party.”
“I’m serious, Cole.”
“I know. I wish you wouldn’t be. Look, you’re right, but we’ve lived with those things lurking for years and years. And besides, Ryke seems pretty sure the Bern won’t be a problem in the next universe.”
“That’s a long time from now,” Molly said. “What about until then? How many people, how many alien races we’ve never heard of will suffer until then?”
Cole looked out at the shimmering colors beyond the horizon. He imagined he saw a black silhouette flying out there somewhere. “Gods, Molly, I don’t know. What do you expect you can do for them?”
“Nothing,” Molly said. She leaned her head against Cole’s shoulder. “I think that’s where this new funk is coming from.”
Cole kissed the side of her head. “And that’s what I love about you,” he said. “Always demanding the impossibly good out of everything, especially yourself.”
Molly lifted her shoulders. “But what if we could do something?”
“Like what? I mean, think of the scale of what you’re suggesting. You’re talking like we could march on Mount Olympus and knock the gods on their butts. Everyone else seems to think we’ve done enough to wall off our corner of creation, and I happen to agree. We have entire galaxies to safely explore. We have billions of years to foster peace. And when the universe wraps around on itself and starts off again, life is gonna spread in a way even the Bern won’t be able to control.” Cole laughed. “I mean seriously, we totally kicked their asses, right?”
He stopped laughing as Molly refused to join in.
“You’re serious about doing something,” he said.
“Of course I am,” Molly told him. “I don’t want to live in fear of them. I want to throw that door open and shine a light in the darkness. I want to spook them before they spook me.”
“And I love you for that, but what’s wrong with living our lives out and being happy and just letting things take their course? What long-term impact are you hoping to have that will justify risking the completely nebular next century we could have together?”
“I give you two weeks, mister, before you’re the one itching to cause trouble.”
“Fine, but I’ll be convincing you to surf the Palan floods or to basejump through Ganji or something like that. I won’t be hankering to take on some pan-galactic empire that sounds like they’re eventually doomed anyway.”
Molly looked up at him. With that look. The same one she’d given him on Drenard over a month ago. The look that back then let him know they were going to escape the alien planet, eschewing a comfortable existence to try and end a war that was too big to contemplate denting. She gave him that look once again, and he found himself wilting.
“Alright,” he said.
Molly smiled and threw her arms around him, sending Wadi juice down his back. “I love you,” she said. “More than you’ll ever know!”
“On three conditions,” Cole said.
Molly pulled away. “Which are?”
“We won’t leave this galaxy until we’re thirty, so you have to give me a dozen years of awesome bliss just living together and not trying to start any trouble with alien races.”
Molly smiled and nodded. “Twelve years,” she said. “I can handle that. What else?”
“You have to let me take you someplace special for our honeymoon.”
“Okay,” Molly said. She continued to nod, and then her head snapped up to gaze at Cole, her eyes wide, her brow wrinkled in confusion. “Wait. Our what?”
“Third condition,” Cole said, sinking down to one knee…
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