by Joe Vasicek
“Of course it’s me!”
The two of them embraced, heedless of the crowd of strangers around them. Jeremiah was so happy, he didn’t even care. He hadn’t seen his old friend since they had both been children, back on their birth world at Edenia. Almost five standard years had passed since Amos had set out across the stars, but he didn’t look any different than the day he’d left. From the broad smile on his face, Jeremiah could tell he was glad to see him too.
“Where have you been?” Amos asked, slapping him on the back.
“Where have I been? Where have you been?”
“Where haven’t I been—that’s the real question. But come on, let’s go someplace where we can talk.”
Jeremiah followed him through the crowded marketplace to a small hole-in-the-bulkhead cantina. Two old men played chess on a flickering holoboard, while an old woman in a shawl sat in the doorway, staring off at nothing in particular. Amos and Jeremiah squeezed past her into a hazy, smoke-filled establishment, taking their seats at the bar.
“Two glasses and a bottle of Terran Red,” said Amos, slapping down his credit chit. “And make it your finest.”
“Wine?” said Jeremiah. “I don’t know—”
“Hey, it’s not every day that you run into an old friend halfway across the Outworlds. Besides, this particular vintage is a Gamman specialty—you really should try it.”
Jeremiah nodded, while the man behind the counter took the credit chit and went into a small alcove. Moments later, he came out with a dark glass bottle and two ceramic glasses. Amos sat down at the bar and poured the wine with a flourish, while Jeremiah took a seat in the corner next to him.
“This blend is from the Kavkaz Mountains, back on old Earth,” said Amos. “If the legends are true, it’s one of the oldest varieties in existence. Of course, here at B’tum, we grow it pure—no xenobiotic fusion. Try some.”
Jeremiah took the glass and lifted it to his lips. The alcohol was strong—so strong, it felt like a fire in his mouth. But the taste was absolutely delicious. He rolled it around on his tongue for as long as he could bear, blinking long after he’d swallowed.
“Wow,” he said. “That’s some good stuff.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah—I could really get used to it.”
Amos laughed and slapped him on the back. “So could I, my friend. In fact, you could say that I already have.”
“Oh really?”
“Yeah,” said Amos. He took a long drink and sighed as he set down his glass. “You know about the local terraforming project?”
“A little,” said Jeremiah. “I heard it’s going pretty well.”
“More than that—it’s one of the most successful projects of its kind this side of Gaia Nova. Engineers from as far away as Tajjur and Karduna are coming to study what we’ve accomplished—and that’s not the least of it. With the main phase less than a hundred years from completion, there’s been a huge influx of New Earthers from all across the Outworlds. They’re even talking about building a second temple here!”
Jeremiah smiled at the excitement in his friend’s eyes. Inwardly, though, he found it difficult to share the same enthusiasm. Edenia II had shown much of the same promise before the ecological collapse. Even though the disaster had happened well before he was born, he still remembered the priests and priestesses giving long sermons about how the project had failed because of the sins of the planet’s inhabitants.
“That’s great,” he said, taking another sip. “So I take it you’ve decided to settle down here?”
Amos nodded and leaned forward. “This world is amazing, Jeremiah. You really should stay long enough for me to show you around. We’re building a new Eden—we really are.”
“Have you found a girl to settle down with? Any plans to start a family?”
“Not yet,” said Amos, “but I’m sure that will come. How about yourself? Has any girl from the Oriana Cluster caught your eye?”
Jeremiah chuckled. “You could say that. She’s actually here with me—we’re expecting a baby in just a few months.”
“Really?” said Amos. He slapped the bar in surprise, drawing glances from across the room. “How did that happen?”
“It’s … a long story.”
“So tell me! I’ve got as much time as you.”
Jeremiah was a little hesitant at first, but his friend was so eager that it soon came spilling out of him. He started with the fateful run to Delta Oriana—how the station master at Megiddo Station had begged him to choose one of his daughters in order to save her life. Before he’d known what was happening, he and Noemi had been married off. Since neither of them spoke the same language, things had been awkward at first, but once they’d warmed up to each other, it was hard to remember how he’d ever lived without her. He then told Amos about their stay at Oriana Station, how they’d met Mariya and her family, and how they’d learned a short time later that Noemi was pregnant. Things hadn’t worked out for them there, so after arranging passage for their friends on the Hope of Oriana, they’d set out again, making a few trades before rendezvousing at Gamma Oriana.
“Amazing,” said Amos, snapping his fingers in delight. “I didn’t think you had it in you. Well done, my friend—very well done.”
“Thanks.”
“So what are your plans now?”
Jeremiah shrugged. “My wife’s friends are going with the other colonists to Zarmina, so that’s where we’re going as well. I expect we’ll settle down there with them.”
“Why Zarmina? Why not here?”
He blinked and frowned. The thought had already occurred to him, but until that moment, it hadn’t really seemed like a possibility.
“I don’t know. Do you have any doctors or midwives here who could help with the pregnancy?”
“Of course we do! We’re not a ghost station, after all. And there’s plenty of room for your friends as well.”
“Well, I don’t know,” said Jeremiah. “They’re going to Zarmina—”
But what if they didn’t? What if they all left the Hope of Oriana and settled down at B’tum instead? There were a lot more people here at Gamma Oriana than were bound for Zarmina—lots of single young men for Mariya to choose from.
“Is there a Deltan community in this system?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” said Amos, stiffening a little. “Most of us are New Earthers from out near the Coreward Stars. I don’t share all their prejudices, of course—” he put his arm around Jeremiah’s shoulder, “—but if your friends are willing to convert, there shouldn’t be any problems at all!”
So there’s just as much animosity towards Deltans here as there was at Alpha Oriana, Jeremiah thought to himself. The wine seemed to clear his head and make him think faster, though his friend was already starting to get tipsy.
“Well, I don’t know if it’s fair to ask them to do that,” he said, remembering the cross that Noemi always wore. “My wife’s pretty devout, and—”
“What do you mean, it isn’t fair? Aren’t you still a believer?”
“Of course,” he said, more to avoid an argument than anything else. “In any case—”
“God our Father goes by many names,” said Amos, quoting the New Earth Bible, “but our Mother is Holy Earth. For six thousand years, she nurtured us in the midst of the starry deep, until we betrayed and defiled her. For this terrible sin, the Father cast us out of paradise.”
“I know, I know.” And that’s why all of us who wander the stars are unworthy.
Amos pulled out a pendant from beneath his shirt—the green leaf and rocket ship, emblems of New Earth. He held it to his lips and kissed it, closing his eyes in worshipful veneration. For several uncomfortable seconds, he sat as still as a statue, oblivious to everything around him. Jeremiah thought about putting a hand on his arm, but before he could, his friend let out a long breath and let the pendant fall to his chest.
“Listen to me,” said Amos, leaning forward. “Up here, we’re
all crammed together with barely enough space to breathe. But down there,” he gestured expansively with his hand, “down on the surface, there’s plenty of space for everyone. You don’t like your neighbors? Fine—go to the next valley, or over the next mountain, or up the river and start your own settlement. This isn’t the Empire—on B’tum, everyone is free.”
“Right,” said Jeremiah. But that still left the problem of finding Mariya a husband.
“Say,” he asked, “you wouldn’t be looking for a girl, would you?”
Amos smiled. “Is she pretty?”
“Yeah, she’s pretty.”
“Is she young?”
“About sixteen.”
“Is she a devout New Earther?”
Jeremiah’s face fell. “Ah—”
“You pirate!” said Amos, slapping him on the back. “Are you trying to set me up with one of your Deltan friends?”
“I might be, yeah.”
“Wow! I remember when you were that quiet little boy who was afraid to talk with anyone. To be honest, I didn’t think you’d last a year as a star wanderer.”
“Thanks.” I guess.
“So why are you trying to set me up with this girl?”
“Honestly,” said Jeremiah, his head spinning a little from the wine. “Honestly, I think she wants to marry me, and I need a way to get rid of her.”
“Marry you?”
“Yeah. But I’m already married, so—”
Amos burst out laughing and punched him in the arm, nearly knocking him over. “A second wife? Oh, that’s rich! How do you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Do what—what you’re doing. I mean, look at you! Barely out a year, and the women are flocking to you like comets to a gravity well.”
“It’s—it’s not like that,” said Jeremiah, glancing around the room in embarrassment. Fortunately, the two old men seemed more interested in their game, and the woman by the door had already left.
“Oh? What’s there not to like?”
“It’s just—it’s complicated.”
“No, it’s not,” said Amos, stabbing his chest a little clumsily with his index finger. “One girl is better than no girl, so two girls is better than one. It’s simple mathematics.”
Jeremiah frowned. “I don’t think you understand—”
“Understand what?”
Understand how I feel, he wanted to say. How things had changed for him since Noemi had come into his life, and how he cared more about her now than he did for himself. To take another woman, after all that they’d been through together—it felt like the worst kind of betrayal. But how to explain that to someone who was still single—
“Listen,” said Amos, putting an arm around him. “About your wife—you said she can’t speak your language, yes?”
“Yes.”
“And this Deltan girl—she can help to translate for you, right?”
“Right.”
“Exactly. So the way I sees it, you’re as good as married already, whether you like it or not. Why not make it official and claim all the benefits?”
“I don’t need her that badly,” said Jeremiah. “Even without her, we can get along all right. Besides—”
“Fine,” said Amos, raising his hands. “Then tell her no.”
“What?”
“If you don’t want to marry her, tell her that you don’t want to marry her. It’s that simple.”
“I don’t know,” said Jeremiah, shifting uncomfortably. “I just—I don’t want to offend her.”
“Why not? If you’re staying here and she’s going to Zarmina, what does it matter?”
“But—but I don’t want to leave her. She’s really good friends with my wife. And anyway, what if—”
“Listen,” said Amos, suddenly becoming serious. “I know you, Jeremiah. I know what you’re like. A man could put a gun to your head, and you still wouldn’t be able to come to a decision.”
“Well, maybe,” Jeremiah stammered. “I don’t know, I—”
“You can’t keep on doing that. If you do, you’ll only get pushed around by everyone. You’ve got to make a decision—you’ve got to take a stand.”
“You’re drunk.”
“Maybe,” said Amos, jabbing a finger in his chest. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”
Jeremiah opened his mouth to speak, but realized he didn’t have an answer. Maybe his friend was right—maybe it would be better to put his foot down. It wasn’t like he owed Mariya or her family anything. Still, how would Noemi take it? She and Mariya were practically best friends by now.
“First, you tell me to take the girl. Then, you tell me to leave her,” he said. “Which is it going to be? I can’t do both, you know.”
Amos threw back his head and laughed. “Ah, Jeremiah, it’s good to be with you again. Tell me you’ll stay forever.”
“Well, I’ll stay at least until the bottle is finished.”
“Good, good—then I’ll order another one!”
Jeremiah finished off his glass and put an arm around his old friend, as much out of closeness as to keep him from doing anything rash. As they turned to more lighthearted topics, though, he couldn’t stop thinking about what he should do. If Mariya didn’t back down, it seemed that he’d either have to leave her or marry her.
Though neither option seemed all that great for Noemi.
* * * * *
“Not khe,” said Mariya, making a gravelly noise deep within her throat. “Qkhe. Khe, qkhe. Again.”
“Tskhaleh,” said Jeremiah, trying his best to reproduce the sounds coming out of her mouth. On the floor next to him, Noemi giggled uncontrollably.
“No, no, no,” said Mariya, throwing up her hands. “Ts’qkhaleh. Ts’qkhaleh. The hard qkhe. Try it again.”
Jeremiah sighed. “Can we just move on to something else?”
“But it’s an important letter. What are you going to do—skip all the words that use it?”
“I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head in frustration. “Why does your language have to be so hard, anyway?”
“The more you think like that, the longer it’s going to take for you to learn,” she said, imitating the nagging tone of her mother. From the playful look in her eyes, though, it was clear that she was having fun.
Noemi asked a question, and for a few moments, the two girls spoke over him as if he were a piece of furniture. Jeremiah rose to his feet, taking advantage of the moment to stretch himself out. The cabin of the Ariadne felt cramped with all three of them, but between the overcrowded Hope of Oriana and the ever-present bustle of B’tum Station, it was the only place where they could be alone.
“Noemi wants to stop for a while,” said Mariya. “Is that all right?”
“Yes, of course,” said Jeremiah. He ducked through the walkway and stepped into the cockpit, glancing down at the blue-gray crescent moon below them. Nestled among the rings of Chronos, B’tum was quite a breathtaking sight. To settle down on an Earth-like world where the rings ran like a golden road across the sky—he had to admit, the idea was tempting. But then he thought of Noemi, separated from her own people, possibly forever. She’d already given up so much to be with him—her home, her family, everything familiar. How could he ask her to give it all up again?
I have to talk Mariya out of this awkward marriage, he thought to himself. If he could get her to see things from his point of view, surely she wouldn’t push him into this. Not like her father, anyway. At least, that was the hope.
He lingered a few moments before returning to the cabin. When he got there, he found Noemi in one of the folding wall chairs, the dream monitor fitted over her head. Mariya stood over her as if keeping watch, but turned to face him as soon as he stepped through the doorway.
“Hello, Noe—I mean, Mariya.”
“Hello,” said Mariya, smiling.
“You didn’t want to plug in?”
“No,” she said, a little shyly. The nagging tone from before was complete
ly gone.
Jeremiah paused, unsure what to say next. Mariya beat him to it.
“I really like your starship,” she said eagerly—perhaps a bit more than she’d intended. “What’s it called?”
“The Ariadne.”
“That’s a really pretty name. Where did it come from?”
Why is she asking me this? he wondered. But then he realized that with Noemi plugged into the dream monitor, they were practically alone. Perhaps that was why she was nervous.
“My great-grandfather was the one who built it. His birth world was in the New Pleiades, where the people still worship the stars. I think he named it after one of the pagan constellations, or maybe a legend from Earth.”
“That’s fascinating,” said Mariya, moving a little closer to him. “My father’s ship was the Medea—I think his grandfather also came from the New Pleiades. Maybe they knew each other.”
“Maybe.”
She hesitated. For an awkward moment, neither of them knew what to say.
Here goes nothing.
“Your father spoke with me earlier,” he said, shifting a little. “He, ah, asked about—”
“About what?”
“About—well, he asked if I was willing to take you as a second wife.”
To his dismay, her face immediately lit up.
“He spoke with you already? Great! What do you think?”
“I—” he stopped short, carefully considering his words. He felt as if he were poised above a dangerous black hole, with no way to calculate his trajectory.
“I don’t know,” he said. “To be honest, it seems like a strange thing to ask.”
“Strange? How?”
Because I’m already married, and I barely even know you.
“Well … you’re young, you’re outgoing, you’re pretty—” her eyes shone especially at that, “—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 said.
“Yeah, but there are lots of single starfarers in the Outworlds—thousands, if not hundreds of thousands—and a few of them are bound to come to Zarmina before long. It’s not like we’re going to be cut off forever. Besides, you’re still young—time is on your side.”
