In the end, I just said that I didn’t want to rush such an important decision. My parents had accepted that, scolding my brothers and sisters when they made jokes about me, and saying I was sensible to take my time to make the right choice. A month later though, they started getting restless again, and my mother gave me a long lecture about being too choosy. She said that no man was perfect – even my father had had a few bad habits he’d needed to break when she married him – and it was silly to spend too long watching other girls marry the best men so I was left to pick from the rejects.
Since then, every time one of my friends got married, the nagging voices around me had got louder and more persistent. Now I was the last unmarried 17-year-old girl in my settlement, the old maid of Jain’s Ford, there’d be no respite at all.
I was going to have to marry someone, and it wasn’t as if I was short of options. What Palmer had said was right, girls didn’t count proposals from men who didn’t have farms, but I’d had plenty of offers from those who did. If I ignored the ones who’d been drunk at the time, were over 30, or had dubious reputations ...
I made a list of names on my lookup, counted them up, and made it nineteen respectable offers. Nineteen men, or pairs of men, who’d make perfectly good husbands. Marrying two men had obvious advantages, because their two separate farms could be combined or traded to make one large one. If I was going to marry two men, I felt it was simplest to marry brothers.
“Amalie.”
I looked up, startled, and saw Lomas standing next to my desk.
“While the boys are working on their assignment, I thought we could have a private chat outside.”
Lomas turned and headed for the door. I frowned, stood up, and followed him out of the dome, aware of the boys giving us curious looks. What was going on here? Lomas had never taken me out of the class before, and mentioning he wanted a private chat ...
I blinked as the obvious answer occurred to me. Lomas was unmarried, so he was going to make me an offer. That was a disconcerting idea. Slapping down the boys in my class was easy, but refusing an offer from my teacher would be embarrassing for both of us.
Chapter Two
Lomas sat on the bench outside, and gestured at the space next to him. I sat down, keeping a careful gap between us. I daren’t look at Lomas, so I faced straight forward, focusing on the mauve flowers of a field of Mirandan medcorn, our main cash crop for the vaccine industry. Now I was starting to get over the shock, I realized Lomas might have advantages as a husband. The main one being that because he’d been my teacher, Epsilon law said he couldn’t marry me until a year after I’d left school.
If I agreed to marry Lomas, then even if I left school today, I’d have a whole year before the wedding. A whole year when no one would call me old maid, or criticize me for not doing my duty, because I was going to marry Lomas, a man who everyone in the settlement, with the possible exception of Palmer and his father, respected.
“Amalie,” said Lomas, “I’ve been watching you with great interest for the last few months. As far as I know, you haven’t accepted any marriage offer, though I’m sure you’ve had plenty. Is there an arrangement that you’re keeping quiet for some reason? Perhaps there’s a man you like, but he hasn’t got his farm yet.”
I liked the way Lomas was doing this. Checking his offer would be welcomed before he made it. Making sure he wouldn’t put us both in a difficult situation. It showed he was a considerate man, and, looking at things practically, a teacher was a good match. It was one of the few jobs on Miranda that was paid solely in credits instead of bartered goods. Lomas might be a fraction over 30, but not much, so ...
I took a deep breath and said the words that would reassure him that I was ready to hear his offer. “There’s no arrangement.”
“In that case ...” He paused for a second. “Amalie, I’m a member of the Planetary Development Board Education Subcommittee.”
Those weren’t exactly the words I was expecting him to say. I turned to give him a bewildered look.
“Epsilon isn’t the newest sector any longer,” he continued. “The first Kappa sector worlds are coming out of Colony Ten phase and opening for full colonization. It’s time for the worlds of Epsilon sector to start thinking beyond things like basic farming. A century from now, we want Epsilon to be a proud, established, self-sufficient sector, the way Delta sector is now. That isn’t going to happen unless we start solving some major issues. What’s the biggest problem that Miranda has right now?”
I just stared at him. It was clear now that Lomas wasn’t making me an offer, so I’d absolutely no idea why we were having this conversation.
He sighed. “Think, Amalie. Remember all the things I said to Palmer about what would happen if the school fired me.”
“Oh. Miranda doesn’t have enough teachers.”
Lomas nodded. “Not enough teachers. Not enough doctors. Not enough skilled people of any type. Not many of them come to the frontier as colonists, so every world in Epsilon sector has the same problem. It’s crippling Epsilon’s efforts to educate our next generation and to build a proper infrastructure for our worlds. The only way forward is to train our own teachers and doctors.”
He paused. “The first few worlds colonized in Epsilon sector are all arguing about which gets to be the permanent capital planet. Miranda is one of the newer worlds, so they consider us insignificant, but the Planetary Development Board don’t intend things to remain that way. We’ve been studying what happened in Delta sector. No one expected Isis to become the capital planet of Delta sector. No one expected Hercules to have the huge influence that it does. They became the most important worlds in Delta sector because they were the first to have true universities and train their own skilled people.”
“I understand,” I said, still not understanding anything at all.
“Miranda is going to follow their example,” said Lomas. “Our planetary development plan involves concentrating a lot of our resources on founding University Miranda in four years’ time, so we have one of the first universities in Epsilon sector. Building a university isn’t a problem, but staffing it is. We hope to attract a few lecturers from the older sectors, but we also want some lecturers who were born here on Miranda. Their job won’t just be to teach students, but to be role models, showing the young people of Miranda that they can aspire to more than farming.”
He finally turned to face me. “We’d especially like the Miranda-born lecturers to include some women. I believe you could be one of those women, Amalie.”
I blinked. “Me? But ... How could I? You need qualifications to be a lecturer.”
“Obviously you’d need to get your degree first, which will involve you going to a university in another sector.”
I ran my fingers through my hair. Leave Miranda, leave Epsilon, leave all my family and friends to go to another sector! That was ...
For a second, I imagined myself travelling to a world in one of the established sectors, seeing the sort of amaz places I’d only ever seen in vids, getting my degree and coming home to be a lecturer at University Miranda, but then reality hit me. “I’m afraid that’s quite impossible, Teacher Lomas. The cost of it ... My parents’ farm has fine land, the cash crops give a good yield, but they have eleven children to provide for. They can’t spend all their credits on me.”
He nodded. “I understand, but that needn’t stop you doing this, Amalie. The Education Subcommittee has arranged for our chosen students to be given a small grant from the Miranda Planetary Development Fund, and there’s also a cross-sector system where students can borrow the cost of doing their degree. You’d have to pay it back later through education tax, but that wouldn’t be a problem when you’ve a guaranteed post waiting for you at University Miranda.”
I shook my head. “But a university in another sector would never accept a student with just a Miranda Farming Studies Certificate.”
He seemed to be trying not to laugh. “Oddly enough, the Education Subcommitt
ee has thought about that issue too. All universities have a small number of places available to students under the special access scheme. This scheme was designed to assist students who come from a background that limited their educational opportunities. As a girl from a frontier world, you’d qualify for the special access scheme anyway, but with our Planetary Development Board supporting your application and stating you’re a potential lecturer for one of the first universities in Epsilon sector ...”
He smiled. “You don’t need qualifications, Amalie. You just need to prove you have the ability to do this, and I’m already confident about that. I knew you were a very bright girl, flying through your Farming Studies Certificate incredibly quickly, so I got you reading a lot of different texts. You responded best to the history texts, so we’re thinking of you as a history lecturer, though literature would also be possible if you preferred that.”
“History? But why would University Miranda want a history lecturer?”
Lomas did laugh this time. “If University Miranda is going to be respected, and make our world a leading force in Epsilon sector, it has to be a proper university that teaches everything. Yes, the Agriculture Department, Medical Department, and Teacher Training Department will be the biggest to start with, but we will have many others, including a small History Department.”
He stood up. “I knew this whole idea would come as a huge shock to you, Amalie, but please take a while to consider it. I’ll send some more detailed information to your lookup. If you think of any questions or issues that aren’t answered in that information, please message me about them.”
I watched Lomas go back into the dome, and then buried my face in my hands. I’d never travelled further than Memorial. The idea of spending years on another world in a distant sector ...
I was distracted by the odd, warm feeling of my right foot. I peered down at it, and saw a small, furry, Mirandan panda mouse was sitting on my foot, trying to find a way to get inside my shoe. I waved my foot in the air, the panda mouse fell off, and landed on the ground with a plaintive mooping sound of complaint. The minute I put my foot back down, the panda mouse went for the shoe again.
I groaned, picked up the panda mouse, took it over to the nearest bushes, and dumped it there. Their fascination with shoes made panda mice a perishing nuisance. My eldest brother was always threatening to stamp on the next one he found sleeping inside one of his shoes, but of course he never did. Nobody ever had the heart to hurt a panda mouse. People said that their long, black and white fur, and huge soulful eyes, meant they were nearly as appealing as a human baby. Personally, I thought that panda mice were much cuter than human babies, and had the big advantage that they didn’t need their nappies changing.
I’d just gone back to the bench again, when my lookup chimed. That must be Lomas sending me the information. I tapped the screen, was startled to discover I’d actually answered an incoming call, and even more startled to recognize the male face that appeared on the display. It was a little green, because my aging lookup’s colour was a bit erratic, but this was definitely Rodrish Jain, painter of pink hummingbirds.
“Amalie!” He beamed at me. “It’s ready and it’s wonderful. No, it’s more than wonderful, it’s totally zan!”
“What’s ready?”
“My house! Well, not entirely ready, but the roof is on, and there are interior walls, so you can come and see it tomorrow.”
Come and see it tomorrow? I had the feeling I was missing some basic facts here. I took a closer look at Rodrish’s green face. “Are you drunk again?”
“Only a little,” he said. “A couple of glasses of Pedra’s home brewed whiskey.”
“A couple of glasses of Pedra’s whiskey would knock out an Asgard bison.”
“I know. I was just nervous about ... Chaos, I’m not doing this very well, am I?”
I grinned. “I’m not even sure what you’re trying to do, so no you aren’t.”
“I thought I’d messed everything up falling off the roof like that. It had to be the worst offer of marriage ever, so I daren’t even message you afterwards, but given you’ve done what I asked and waited for me to get my house built ...”
Offer of marriage? I tried to remember exactly what had happened on the day of the pink hummingbird. I certainly hadn’t noticed Rodrish offering me marriage. He had been shouting something before he fell off the top of the dome, but it hadn’t made any sense until the final “Oh nuke!” when his foot slipped.
“Rodrish Jain, are you offering marriage to me?” I asked.
“Yes.”
I wasn’t sure how to react to this. Normally, I slapped down any drunken offer of marriage without even pausing to think about it, but this was Rodrish Jain, the son of one of the Founding Families of Miranda. I hesitated before saying anything.
“Rodrish, you’re drunk. If you’re serious about this, you’ll have to ask me again when you’re sober. If possible when we’re face to face, rather than just calling me.”
He gave a despairing shake of his head. “But I can’t do this sober. I needed a couple of drinks before I had the nerve to say it in a call, and saying it in person is even worse. That’s why I got so drunk on my last day at school. I kept thinking another drink would help.”
I frowned. Actually, that did explain a lot. Despite being a son of one of the Founding Families, Rodrish Jain was a quiet, shy boy, who didn’t drink much. One of the reasons everyone remembered the pink hummingbird episode was that it was so out of character.
“I accept you find these things difficult,” I said, “but you wouldn’t have to actually say it again. If you call me tomorrow, I’ll take it as meaning you were serious about the offer of marriage.”
“All right,” said Rodrish.
“Goodbye then.”
There was a very long pause. Eventually, I tried again. “Goodbye, Rodrish.”
“Oh. Right.” He ended the call.
I frowned down at my blank lookup screen. If Rodrish Jain was serious, and I was certain he was serious despite the two glasses of Pedra’s whiskey, then my future was decided. Rodrish was a respectable, dependable boy, at least he was when he was sober, and given his parents’ status ...
I was going to marry Rodrish Jain. I let that thought sink in for a moment, imagining myself announcing this to my stunned family, and all the interfering neighbours who’d been nagging me about my duty to marry. I could tell them that Rodrish Jain had offered me marriage last year, but we’d been waiting for me to be 17 and for his house to be built before telling anyone.
I pictured the look of shock and embarrassment on their faces. The ones who’d made pointed remarks about me not doing my duty would feel total idiots. They’d been criticizing a girl who was already betrothed to a son of one of the Founding Families!
My lookup chimed again. I checked it and saw Lomas had sent the promised information. There was no point in me reading it now. I was staying on Miranda, and marrying Rodrish. Information about travelling to a world in another sector to study history was completely irrelevant.
I tapped my lookup, and started reading it anyway. There was a short outline which more or less repeated what Lomas had already told me, and literally dozens of far longer texts.
I started scanning through the list of universities that were part of the special access scheme, and had a dazed moment as I saw the names of legendary worlds like Danae, Zeus, and Cassandra. Even Adonis, the first ever colony world of humanity, was on the list.
I tried picturing myself as a student living on Adonis, casually strolling through the Arch of Remembrance into the Courtyards of Memory, but basic common sense told me a frontier farm girl like me would be horrendously out of place on Adonis or any of the other wealthy worlds of the Alphan star systems. What I’d heard about clannish, sexually permissive Beta sector sounded impossible too, and everyone knew that Delta sector specialized in science. That meant Gamma sector was ...
A rhythmic sound made me lift my head, and I saw a h
orse was coming along the track towards the school portal. The man on its back was my father’s best friend, Daxton. He couldn’t possibly see what I was studying from that distance, but I still stabbed a guilty forefinger at my lookup to turn it off.
Daxton gave me a wave as he passed by. I waved back and watched as he rode up to the portal controls and selected his destination. His horse was obviously used to travelling by portal, because it didn’t flinch as this one flared into life.
Daxton tugged at the reins, backing his horse away a few steps to line up facing the portal, then leaned forwards, flattening himself against his horse’s back and neck. The horse lowered its head too, paced slowly forward to the portal, and stepped delicately through.
That was the image the news channels of older sectors always used when they mentioned a frontier world. A man riding a horse through a portal. The symbolic mix of ancient and modern transport summed up the contradictions of life on the frontier. Cross-sector funding provided frontier worlds with certain basics like pre-packed buildings for use as schools and hospitals, a skeleton portal network, and medical supplies.
Any other imported manufactured goods had to be paid for in precious credits, so we used horses and carts instead of hover sleds, handmade wooden furniture instead of flexiplas tables and chairs, and a lot of basic metal items were hammered into shape on a blacksmith’s anvil.
There was a last swish of the horse’s tail, and horse and rider vanished. With Daxton safely gone, I looked down at the blank screen of my lookup, lifted my forefinger ready to tap at it and carry on scanning the documents, but stopped and shook my head.
I was naturally flattered that Teacher Lomas had suggested me as a future lecturer for University Miranda, and it was easy to get caught up in wild fantasies of going to study on distant famous worlds, but seeing Daxton had reminded me that would mean leaving behind my whole world and everyone I knew.
My first reaction to Rodrish’s call had been the right one. If he was serious about his offer of marriage, then my future was settled. Less than an hour ago, I’d been looking at a list of nineteen men, or pairs of men, who’d be good husbands. I’d made that sort of list a dozen times in the last couple of months. Every time, the Sozanski brothers had come out at the top of it because they were reliable, hard-working boys. Every time, I’d decided I should accept their offer before some other girl married them. Every time, I’d found another excuse to delay.
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