They kept walking, their backpacks filled with their belongings—a change of clothes, a few medals from the war, a gray's helmet Addy had kept as a souvenir, a bit of food. It was all they owned.
These backpacks—and their house.
Finally he saw it ahead. Addy and he ran.
They burst through the front door into their home.
"We're home!" Addy cried, running around like a madwoman. "We're home! We're home!"
She leaped over the couch, rolled across the floor, ran rings around the living room table, burst into the kitchen, raced upstairs, and darted in and out of every room.
"Poet, we're home, we're home!" She leaped around, head tossed back, arms raised. "We're home!"
He stared at her. It was like staring at a typhoon.
"I thought you were tired."
She ran toward him, leaped onto him, and wrapped all four limbs around him. She squeezed him and showered him with kisses, nearly knocking him down the stairs.
"We're home, Poet! Our home. Finally. You and me." She shed tears. "We're home." Her eyes lit up, and she gasped. "Do you think Tomiko kept my corn dogs in the freezer?"
She leaped off Marco and ran into the kitchen. Her whoops of joy filled the house.
Marco explored the house more quietly and slowly. He entered the living room. Tomiko had kept his and Addy's mementos from the military: their medals in shadowboxes, a scum's claw, their first berets, and framed photographs from their service. Marco paused and gazed at one photograph, the one from boot camp twelve years ago. The entire platoon was there. Eighteen and scrawny, Marco was trying to look somber, but Addy was holding up two fingers like rabbit ears behind his head. Lailani had her cheeks puffed out, her eyes crossed, and Elvis had his arm around her shoulder.
So many friends lost. So many faces now only in memory. Elvis. Caveman. Jackass. Beast. Sergeant Singh. Corporal Diaz. Corporal St-Pierre. Corporal Webb. Sheriff. Pinky. They had all fallen. And Marco would never forget them. They were all his brothers and sisters in arms.
He went upstairs. His bedroom was as he had left it. The library still had all his old books, mostly books from authors he loved, but also his own books. Loggerhead. Le Kill. The Dragons of Yesteryear trilogy. Under the Stairs and its sequels. His hopes and dreams and fears, there within the pages. The collection was only missing The Clockwork Rose, the novel he had written on the flight to Durmia.
He stepped into his studio, the little room with a view of the sea, the place where he wrote. Where he would write again. He placed his hand on the desk. A framed photo of Kemi was still on the wall.
Let me never be a soldier again, he thought. Let me spend the next fifty years here, in this home. Writing. Living with Addy. Forgetting the terror and remembering the friends I lost.
He stepped back downstairs. Addy and he had built this home years ago, planning it for themselves and their friends. It was a large house, too large for just the two of them.
Though maybe someday, he thought, two would become three. Or four. The thought tickled him.
"Poet." Addy approached him, calmer now, and took his hands. "I don't want to sleep here tonight."
"What?" He tilted his head. "Addy! You were running around like a maniac for the past fifteen minutes, shouting that you want to dump me and marry the house."
"I know." She nodded. "But . . . there's a place I've been waiting to return to even more." She grinned. "Grab a blanket."
Marco smiled. He nodded. He understood.
A semicircle of cliffs surrounded the cove. The beach was hidden from the rest of the island, accessible only by boat. They rowed there. The cove's water was sparkling azure, warm and shallow, and waves rarely disturbed it. They dropped anchor and walked toward the beach, the water rising to their knees. Fish flitted between their legs, and seashells shone. They reached the golden sand. The old shipwreck still lay here, aging gracefully in the sunlight, its hold filled with sand and crabs.
Marco and Addy reached the beach. They gazed around them at the white cliffs, the golden beach, the shipwreck, the pale water. It was beautiful. It was just as they had remembered it.
Addy placed an arm around Marco. She spoke in a soft voice.
"In the darkness, in the desolation of Black Earth, we often dreamed of this place. We imagined that we were back here." She wiped her eyes. "But I never believed, not really. I didn't think we'd ever make it back. Is this real, Poet? Are we really here?"
He held her close. "We're really here, Addy."
She smiled. "Shipwreck Cove. The most beautiful place in the world. Our place. The place where you first told me you're madly in love with me."
They stood in the sand, kissing.
"I love you, Marco." Addy touched his cheek. "I love you so much. I can't imagine life without you. Do you love me too? Forever and ever? You'll never leave me, right? Even if you become a famous, distinguished author and I become a fat, old ugly cow?"
"Addy!" He held the small of her back and stared into her eyes. "I'm already a famous, distinguished author, and you're already a—"
"Watch it!" She raised her fist.
He laughed and kissed her cheek. "Ads, I will never stop loving you. I will never leave you. You are beautiful. You've been my best friend for twenty years. You are my other half. We'll be together from now on. Here. On this island. We'll never leave again."
She nearly crushed him in her embrace. She wept against his shoulder, and they were tears of joy.
The sun set, and they lay down on their blanket. They did not bother looking up at the stars. They had gazed upon those lights enough times. They lay facing each other, gazing into each other's eyes in the moonlight, laughing, tickling, joking, kissing, making love, then whispering softly of many things.
I am happy, Marco thought. After so many years of pain, I am happy—a true, deep, full happiness.
"Poet?" Addy said. "Do you wanna get married?"
He blinked. "What, right now? Right here?"
She groaned. "Is that really the best response you could think of?"
He bit his lip. He grinned. "Yes."
"It is?" Addy said. "You can't think of anything better to say, even though you're a writer, and—"
"I mean yes, Addy, I want to get married."
"Oh." She looked at him. She grinned. "Okay. Let's do it. Right now. Right here."
He laughed.
They waited a while longer—until the next day, that was.
They brought a priest over in a little boat. And he married them in this cove by the shipwreck. They invited no guests. They wanted their marriage to be private, something just about them, just for them. They didn't need a big gathering or party. They just needed this cove, this beautiful place, and each other.
Husband and wife, they walked back to their house.
"So here we are!" Addy said. "Addy Linden and Marco Linden."
He frowned. "Hey. Wait a minute. We're Marco and Addy Emery."
She snorted. "You wish."
He froze. "Addy!"
She groaned. "Fine. Can we be the Emery-Lindens?"
"No!" he said. "It's against tradition. I'm the man, and—ow! Ow! Addy, stop kicking me! Not in the crotch! Fine. Fine! The Emery-Lindens!"
She grinned and mussed his hair. "I knew you'd see reason."
He sighed and opened the front door. "This'll be a long fifty years."
"Wait, before you enter!" Addy leaped into his arms. "Carry me."
He groaned. "You weigh a ton!"
"Yeah, well, you're short."
"We're the same height!"
But he carried her into their home. He kicked the door shut behind him. He didn't even make it upstairs. He made love to her on the living room floor. Twice. And then he lay by her side, stroking her golden hair. He was with his best friend. With his wife. With Addison Elizabeth Emery-Linden. His Addy. They had been through hell, and here they found heaven.
* * * * *
He lifted his pen.
He wrote tw
o more words in his notebook.
The End.
"It's done," Marco said. "My twelfth novel."
He gazed at his pile of notebooks. It was a tale of a goblin girl and her adventures in a magical land. The other races in this world—the humans, the elves, the dwarves—all thought goblins were twisted, evil creatures, hunched over, hook-nosed, hoarding treasure in dank tunnels. In truth, goblins were friendly—if shy—beings who lived in peaceful forests. They looked much like elves, fair and pointy-eared, though shorter and more humble. Throughout the novel, the young goblin heroine met many other misunderstood races. Trolls. Orcs. Kobolds. All demonized and shunned. Yet together these misfits saved the world.
Perhaps Marco himself had often felt like a goblin. When he had returned from fighting the scum, many had called him a war criminal. He still felt uncomfortable among other people, even today. He liked being alone or just with Addy. He liked being at home or walking on a quiet beach. He found it difficult to connect with others. With people who hadn't lived through battles. Who hadn't seen the hives on Abaddon or the terrors of the marauders. Who hadn't suffered for many days on the desolate plains of Black Earth, slowly starving, and—
He winced, sudden pain stabbing him. It was a chilly morning. His old wounds still ached in the cold. He took several deep breaths, sinking into Deep Being. He still practiced the art most days. He reached into his drawer, and he pulled out two bottles. He swallowed two pills. One to reduce the pain in his wounds. Another to drown the nightmares in his mind. He took both daily. Both helped.
It was two years since Black Earth. Two years since Ben-Ari had arrived on the Lodestar to save him and Addy. The nightmares had never fully gone away. He knew they never would. But he had Deep Being. He had his writing and his medicine. He had his beautiful family. He was thirty-two years old. He was finally beginning his life.
"Poet!" Addy cried from downstairs. "For God's sake, Poet, it's your turn! Two stinky, poopy diapers down here!"
Marco put down his pen. He went downstairs.
Addy was in the living room, holding a stinky baby in each arm.
"Your turn," Addy said.
Marco smiled. "All right, all right!"
He took the twins from her and kissed their heads. Roza and Sam were both little clones of Addy, blond of hair, blue of eyes, fierce of heart. They had inherited nothing from Marco, it seemed, and yet he loved them both with all his heart. His little girl and his little boy. His bright lights.
Addy had named their girl. She had chosen the name Roza after Roza Shanina, a heroine of the Second World War. Marco had named their boy, choosing Sam after Samwise Gamgee, his favorite character in literature.
"Are you stinky, Roza and Sam?" Marco tickled them, and they giggled. "All right. Your old man will change you. No crawling away without a fresh diaper."
Sam peed on him while Marco was changing him. The little bastard laughed.
"Poet! Poet!" Addy shouted from outside.
"I'm doing it!" he cried back. "Jesus, Ads, I'm changing them!"
"Not that," Addy said. "They're here! Come on, hurry, they're landing!"
Marco could hear it now. His hearing had never fully recovered from the war, but this sound was loud. Engines rumbling. He quickly finished diapering the twins, lifted both, and hurried outside.
The starship came flying down. The Ryujin had been patched up, and the dragon and rainbow on her hull had been repainted.
The Ryujin landed on the beach, and the airlock opened. Epimetheus emerged first, racing across the sand toward Marco and his family. HOBBS climbed out next, careful as he walked across the beach, mumbling something about getting sand in his gears. Finally Lailani emerged. She had let her hair grow during the past year, and she wore shorts and sandals. In her arms she carried a baby.
Marco and Addy rushed toward her.
Lailani smiled at them. She looked happy. For the first time since Marco had met her, she looked truly happy.
She held out her baby. "Meet Tala de la Rosa, my little goddess. Her name means 'goddess of stars' in my language."
Addy's eyes widened. "She looks just like you. She's a mini-Lailani! And that's saying something, given how mini you already are."
Lailani laughed and admired the twins, speaking of how they looked like Addy. The two women shared stories of motherhood and cooed over the little ones.
Marco watched Lailani as she spoke, her eyes bright.
Years ago, I fell in love with you, Lailani, he thought. I asked you to marry me. You said no. You broke my heart. I wonder what might have been. If that could have been my child . . .
Lailani raised her eyes and met his gaze. She smiled and placed a hand on his arm.
Marco's line of thought faded. Silliness.
He kissed Lailani's cheek. "She's beautiful. And she does look like you."
Another engine rumbled. A shadow fell. They looked up to see a second starship. This one was larger, newer, far more expensive than the Ryujin. On her white hull appeared the blue Earth and the silver moon—symbol of the Alliance of Nations. The starship landed on the beach too, scattering sand. A hatch opened. Two guards emerged, stood at attention, and saluted.
And out she came, President Einav Ben-Ari.
Addy and Lailani gazed in awe. Their commanding officer, the twenty-year-old ensign they had met in the desert long ago, had become the leader of Earth. At first the sight of her emerging from that starship seemed almost holy. Marco wasn't sure if to salute, to bow, or even to kneel.
Instead, he smiled. And that smile turned into a grin. And he ran toward his officer, his president, his friend.
"Einav."
She smiled and hugged him. "Marco."
Professor Isaac emerged from the starship next, and he carried a baby. Marco's eyes widened.
"Meet little Carl," Ben-Ari said. "Our son."
The baby had dark hair like the professor's, but his eyes were green like his mother's. He did not cry nor fuss, simply gazed around with wide, curious eyes.
"He's beautiful," Marco said. "And he seems wise."
Ben-Ari laughed. "Wise?"
Marco nodded. "Yes. The way he looks around. I can tell."
It was two years—to the day—since their campfire by that lake in Switzerland. They built another campfire here in Greece. They vowed to meet every year on this date, no matter where their lives took them, for a campfire, for friendship, for memory.
They spent the evening roasting hot dogs, potatoes, and marshmallows. Ben-Ari and Marco discussed the books they had read over the past year, and Lailani showed them all photographs from her school. Little Tala de la Rosa, oldest among the babies, showed off by saying "mama" and "HOBBA" while hearts melted. It was an evening full of joy, of laughter.
But also of pain.
Sometimes when Marco glanced into Ben-Ari's eyes, he saw the deep trauma, the ghosts that still haunted her. Sometimes Lailani grew very quiet and just gazed into the fire, and she seemed so sad.
We all have too many memories, Marco thought. We meet once a year to be joyous. But we will forever be scarred.
He lifted Roza and Sam, and he held the twins close. They gazed up at him, smiling softly.
"We did this for you," Marco whispered to his children. "So that you will have a better world than we did. We bled. We killed. We suffered. We cried out in so much anguish, and we lost so much, because we were waiting for you. Because we love you. Because we needed to build you a home."
He realized that his friends had heard him, that they were watching him, and Marco's cheeks flushed. Lailani shifted closer and leaned against his side. Ben-Ari moved to sit beside Marco too, leaning against his other side. They too held their children. Four curious, beautiful babies. Four new souls.
"May you never know fear," Marco said to their children. "May you never know pain. May you never see friends die. May you never kill. May yours be lives of joy. Of love. Of peace."
His tears fell, but he smiled. His friends embraced him. T
he fire crackled and the stars shone above. There was so much pain, so much terror up there. But right now, down here, there was light and life. And life was beautiful.
"Hey!" Addy said, suddenly bolting to her feet. "I forgot my rake!"
She rushed toward the house, then returned to the campfire with her ceremonial rake, and soon she was roasting hot dogs, and everyone was laughing again. Marco laughed too.
Fourteen years ago, a rocket had taken him to a military base in a desert. Fourteen years ago, his war had begun. Often he had not thought he would survive. He was thirty-two, and he had never thought he'd live so long.
When I look back upon those years, he thought, let me forget the terror and pain. Let me remember the good times we had, the friendships we made. We cannot change the past. But the future is ours to forge. May our lives be filled with laughter and love. May we all know nothing but peace.
AFTERWORD
Well, after nine Earthrise books, we've come to an end. I'm really grateful that you chose to take this journey with Marco, Addy, Ben-Ari, and the rest of the gang.
But worry not! There will be more stories. I'm already working on an Earthrise spinoff series, which I hope to begin publishing in 2018. I've also written many other fantasy and science fiction books, which you can find on Amazon or DanielArenson.com. If you enjoyed Earthrise, I hope you check out my other books as well.
Want to know when I release new novels? Here are some ways to stay updated:
* Join my mailing list at (and receive three free ebooks): DanielArenson.com/MailingList
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And if you have a moment, please review Earth Eternal on Amazon. Help other science fiction readers and tell them why you enjoyed reading. Please leave your review here.
Thank you again, dear reader, and I hope we meet again between the pages of another book.
Daniel
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