Glow

by Amy Kathleen Ryan

  Most of the time, though, Amanda came alone.

  At first Waverly didn’t like Amanda hovering over her, but soon she appreciated how she kept her stomach full, gave her extra blankets if she was cold, or took them off if she felt too warm. Lifting Waverly’s leg to dress her wound looked as though it took all her strength. Carrying a tray with soup and water made her sweat, and after she’d set it down, she’d rub at her sore back, but she wouldn’t rest. Amanda was a much better nurse than Magda had ever been, and Waverly eventually felt soothed by her presence, even grateful.

  Amanda never mentioned her pregnancy, but Waverly could tell that it had been confirmed by the happy way the woman hummed to herself, stroking her belly, smiling when she didn’t know Waverly was looking. It made Waverly feel sick to know that her own baby was inside someone else, but being cared for by Amanda set her mind at ease somewhat. Amanda would take good care of the baby when it was born.

  Once Waverly was well enough to stay awake for long stretches, she was able to think about that strange noise she’d heard in the background on the com signal that agonizing night. That thrumming sound was the key to finding her mom, but the harder she tried, the less she was able to imagine where it could have been. On the Empyrean she’d rarely wandered beyond the biosphere levels. She didn’t like the cold, mechanized areas of the ship and stayed away from them, but the prisoners must be in a place like that.

  Kieran had been the explorer on the Empyrean. If he’d heard that com signal, he’d be able to pinpoint the location immediately. For the thousandth time, she wished that she could talk to him, if only for a minute.

  Meanwhile, Waverly healed. Before long she could sit up in bed for an hour at a time, and then came the day when, with Amanda’s help, she could stand and even walk for short stretches.

  “I want to see my scar,” she said. She’d felt through her bandages and knew that the back of her thigh was no longer smooth. “Help me take this off.”

  Amanda looked at her doubtfully but gently lifted her nightgown and unwrapped Waverly’s leg, then helped her stand to look in the mirror hanging on the door. She had to steady herself on the woman’s shoulder, an intimate gesture that would have been unthinkable a week ago. But things had changed. Amanda was the enemy, but Amanda had become a friend.

  “It’s not so bad.” Amanda tried to smile.

  Waverly sighed. It was an ugly, jagged gash down the back of her upper thigh, about ten inches long. The flesh on either side of the cut was swollen and uneven and probably wouldn’t heal straight.

  “It will leave a mark, I’m afraid, honey. But after it heals, they can do things to the scar,” Amanda said as she rewrapped the girl’s leg. “They can make it look better.”

  “What would be the point?”

  “Because you’re beautiful, dear. It’s worth trying.”

  Waverly shrugged.

  A few months ago, she’d have been dismayed about any mark on her smooth body, but now she regarded it with detached curiosity. It was healing. Soon she’d be strong, and she could kill Anne Mather and find a way out of this place.

  “We need to have a talk,” Amanda told her.

  “About what?” Waverly said.

  “When you’re released,” she began tentatively, “you’ll come live with me and Josiah.”

  “Why can’t I go back to the dormitory?” Waverly asked.

  “The girls have been moved out to live with families. I’m the only one Pastor Mather will trust to watch over you. We’ll still be under twenty-four-hour guard. Because of … what happened in the cargo holds.”

  Waverly accepted this silently as Amanda eased her back onto her mattress.

  Amanda left the room briefly and returned with a bowl of chicken soup for Waverly. Billows of fragrant steam rose from the broth as she stirred it, eyes down. “I just can’t figure it out.”

  “What?”

  “What you were doing there. Of all places.”

  Was Amanda trying to get information? Waverly studied her and saw that her brow was knit in confusion. “I was looking for guns,” she said.

  Amanda looked at Waverly sharply. “Violence is never the answer.”

  “I didn’t want to shoot anyone. I want to escape.”

  “Escape to where? Your ship was destroyed. Anne showed me the wreckage.” Amanda’s eyes were distant, as though she were working out some puzzle in her mind.

  “Why did the New Horizon come to rendezvous with the Empyrean in the first place, Amanda?” Waverly asked.

  “We had to rendezvous. We needed help with our fertility.”

  “By taking us girls and stealing our eggs?”

  “Of course not! Anne had reached an agreement with Captain Jones years ago that we’d rendezvous and get embryos that he’d frozen for us.”

  This was so wildly different from the story Mather had told Waverly that she was too bewildered to speak.

  “It was pure luck that we happened to meet up when you needed us the most. I don’t know how much longer you girls would have lasted aboard that death trap. I only wish we could have saved all those little boys. If only there’d been time!” Amanda hugged herself. “I just hope our ship doesn’t encounter the same problems.”

  “So you really don’t know,” Waverly said to herself. She bit her lip when she realized she’d spoken aloud.

  “Know what?”

  Waverly looked at Amanda’s open, trusting face. She might really be ignorant of all the killings aboard the Empyrean. She probably didn’t even know about the Empyrean survivors. Waverly wanted to tell Amanda what was really going on, but she held back. Trusting her would risk everything.

  “What, Waverly?” Amanda pressed. “What don’t I know?”

  “Just how grateful we all are,” Waverly said quickly. “That you saved us.”

  Amanda’s smile reached all the way to her green eyes, and she picked up the soup bowl. “This ought to be cool enough by now,” she said, and handed it to Waverly.

  The next morning, Amanda came with a wheelchair, helped Waverly into it, and covered her with a blanket. As she wheeled her through the busy hallway, people smiled at Waverly, especially the women. They must know that she’d been the source of the first batch of embryos, Waverly realized. So many of them were glowingly happy.

  “You’re a celebrity,” Amanda commented, and Waverly was glad she didn’t say why.

  When they got to Amanda and Josiah’s quarters, Waverly saw that Josiah had moved his hobby table out of the living room and had replaced it with an overstuffed easy chair. Amanda put a com station in front of Waverly and ran one documentary after another about the New Horizon. Every so often Waverly caught a glimpse of Anne Mather as a surprisingly beautiful young woman, but she was always in the background. In an engineering film, the original Captain of the New Horizon, Captain Takemara, was interviewed about the efficiency of the ship’s engines. A tall man with wavy black hair and piercing eyes, he spoke of his ship with pride.

  That evening, as Amanda was making dinner, Waverly asked, “What happened to Captain Takemara?”

  Amanda was tossing chunks of cucumber and melon with watercress and spinach. She glanced back at Waverly, who sat at the table, her leg propped on a chair.

  “He had a strange disease. He lingered for a few months, but there was nothing the doctors could do.”

  “Which meant Anne Mather could take over,” Waverly said, wondering if the Captain’s death had really been caused by a disease.

  “Well, she took over before he got sick, actually. When things got complicated,” Amanda said, but stopped herself, seeming to rethink her words. She put down the spoons. “There’s more to it than that.”

  Amanda gingerly lifted Waverly’s leg, sat in the chair where she’d been resting it, and placed Waverly’s foot on her knee. “That okay?”

  Waverly nodded.

  “The truth is, the Captain wasn’t much of a leader. When we learned we were all infertile, well, you can imagine the state
of the crew. We were in deep despair, and he just didn’t have the vision to deal with it. That’s why Anne had to step in.”

  “Step in?”

  “She was Pastor of the ship, so she was already in a leadership position. By then everyone on board had heard about her services, and we all went, every Sunday, because her sermons were the only thing that gave us hope. The Captain seemed to defer more and more to her, until finally he moved out of his office and she moved in, just like that. It was better for the ship, you know. She gave us a sense of purpose again, something the Captain had never been able to do.”

  Waverly felt certain there was more to this than Amanda knew or was telling her. “What disease did he have?”

  Amanda smiled sadly. “I don’t know. There was a sickness aboard the ship that spread to many of the people closest to the Captain. It was a tragedy.”

  “What kind of sickness?”

  “Some kind of parasite, we think. Most of the Central Council seemed to get it after one of their meetings. But the doctors could never isolate the organism to kill it.”

  Waverly forced herself to breathe evenly.

  Amanda went back to her salad. In the silence, Waverly wondered for the hundredth time if she could trust Amanda or if the woman was a spy.

  “You know what I wonder?” Waverly said slowly, tracing the wood grain on the table with her thumbnail. “Is how they got that wreckage from the Empyrean aboard.”

  Amanda barely looked up from the chicken she was cutting up. “They retrieved it using shuttles and OneMen.”

  “But didn’t they pick it up several days after we left the Empyrean behind?”

  “Yes, I think so.”

  “And haven’t we had constant gravity the whole time?”

  “Yes,” Amanda said, her knife slowing.

  “I don’t understand how they retrieved it, that’s all. If we were accelerating to maintain artificial gravity, it seems like we would have left the wreckage behind ages ago.”

  Amanda stopped cutting the chicken altogether and looked thoughtfully at Waverly, who added, “But who knows?”

  OVATION

  Early the next morning, Amanda brought a black smock and a lace handkerchief into Waverly’s room. Waverly watched her, pretending sleep. Amanda moved quietly, arranging the clothes so that they hung straight on the hanger, smoothing the kerchief between her hands with loving care.

  She was trying not to wake the girl, but Waverly had been awake for hours, thinking of the thrumming sound she’d heard, trying to figure out how she could get away to search for it. The guards, she knew, were stationed outside Amanda and Josiah’s quarters round the clock. Their presence didn’t seem to trouble Amanda, which was another reason Waverly didn’t entirely trust her.

  Amanda turned and saw Waverly looking at her. “You’re awake!”

  Waverly rubbed her eyes. “I’m not that great a sleeper.”

  “Then you didn’t see we’re out of the nebula,” Amanda said gleefully.

  Waverly turned to her porthole and saw black sky and stars. She was stunned by the realization that now the Empyrean might be able to find her and the girls, if only they could find a way off this ship!

  “Dear, if you’re up for it, you’re welcome to come to services with us. It will be wonderful, with so much to celebrate!”

  This could be a chance to see Sarah and Samantha. “I’d like that.”

  “I’m glad. Anne said she has something special planned for you girls, and I would hate for you to miss it.”

  Wonderful, Waverly thought as she swung her legs out of bed. Her injured leg was stiff from sleeping, and still sore. As soon as Amanda left the room, Waverly pulled on the black smock and tied the kerchief over her hair. She hated how the outfit made her look. The smock gathered in an ugly bunch around her hips, and the kerchief framed her face in an unflattering, oppressive way.

  She limped into the living room to find Amanda and Josiah waiting for her. They, too, wore plain black clothes that reminded Waverly of funeral garb. Josiah came forward and took Waverly’s hand. “You look nice,” he said.

  “Thanks.” Waverly had never asked, and they had never told her, but he must have been the one to fertilize the egg that was growing inside Amanda. So in a strange way, he had mated with Waverly, but he was pretending to be a father to her. The contradiction made her recoil inwardly from him.

  “Josiah made you a gift,” Amanda said.

  Josiah reached behind the couch and pulled out a beautiful cane whittled from hickory wood. The handle was carved with grapevines and little birds and was surprisingly comfortable in Waverly’s hand. There was even a strap she could loop around her wrist so that she didn’t drop it. When she leaned on it, she felt much more stable on her feet. “Wow,” she said. “Thanks.”

  “He worked on it the whole time you were laid up,” Amanda said.

  “I finished it with beeswax to get that sheen,” Josiah said proudly.

  Waverly ran her hand over the wood’s velvety texture. The cane felt heavy in her hands, almost like a club. It could be useful when the time came. “It’s very nice.”

  Josiah only blushed.

  “Come on,” Amanda said, swatting at him playfully. “Enough showing off. We should leave early so Waverly gets there in time.”

  Their progress was slow. Waverly had to stop and rest every few minutes, but the granary wasn’t terribly far from their quarters, and soon she was crossing the huge room, listening to the echoing voices of the congregation.

  “Good-bye, girls,” Josiah said before taking his place onstage with the other musicians.

  The worship area had been decorated with hay bales and dried flowers. Hay littered the floor under Waverly’s feet, feeling like a crunchy carpet as she walked up the aisle toward the altar. The seats were about half full, and people were milling around.

  One very short woman walked up to Waverly and took her hand, nearly knocking her over. The woman was florid and plump, and when she smiled her face shone. “Oh, I just want to thank you for what you’ve done for me!” she said.

  “What? I—”

  “It means so much. You’ve given me a new life.” The woman wiped tears from her eyes. “Thank you! I’ll always honor you in my home!”

  Waverly realized the woman must be carrying one of her embryos, and her throat tightened. Amanda nodded kindly but pulled Waverly away from the woman and guided her to a seat in the front row.

  “Amanda,” Waverly asked, her voice shaking, “how many are there?”

  “How many what, dear?”

  “You know what,” Waverly said through her teeth. “How many women are carrying my babies?”

  The color vanished from Amanda’s cheeks as she looked at Waverly.

  “Tell me!”

  “Eighteen,” Amanda finally said. “There are eighteen pregnant.”

  “What?! How can there be so many?”

  “They gave you drugs. In the food,” Amanda said. “You made lots of eggs.”

  “And you think that’s okay?” Waverly cried so loudly that people turned to look at her.

  “They didn’t exactly ask my opinion, Waverly,” Amanda said grimly.

  “And if they had?”

  “I would have told them to get your permission. Because any other way is just despicable.”

  On the stage, Anne Mather sat between her two lectors, waiting for services to begin. The older lector looked nearly asleep, but the young woman with the braided auburn hair looked at the crowd with practiced serenity. For an instant, her eyes met Waverly’s, but she looked into the distance again as though she’d never seen her.

  So Mather hadn’t discovered her yet. She was still safe, for now.

  “Who’s that woman sitting next to Anne?” Waverly asked Amanda, who seemed glad to change the subject.

  “Jessica Eaton. Jess. She’s only recently volunteered to help with services, since Deacon Maddox lost his voice. She does some of the readings.”

  “How�
�d she get that job?” Waverly asked carefully.

  “She’s Anne’s assistant. Why?”

  Waverly shrugged. “Just curious.”

  Hands folded prayerfully under her chin, Mather smiled at Amanda and Waverly. Her white satin robe reflected light onto her plump cheeks, giving her a saintly glow.

  “You know, Waverly, I don’t agree with everything my friend does,” Amanda finally said. “But I don’t have her responsibilities. She’s dealing with a lot.”

  “You wanted a baby, right? So you don’t disapprove all that much.”

  Amanda blanched. Just as the lights dimmed, signaling that services were about to begin, she whispered, “Imagine being offered the one thing you’ve wanted more than anything. Would you refuse to cooperate? Really?”

  Too angry to reply, Waverly looked around the room. She saw Samantha, Sarah, and Felicity all sitting in the front row across the aisle. Samantha was staring at Waverly, mouth set, brown eyes unwavering. She looked thinner, harder, too. Sarah turned toward Waverly and mouthed a word, but Waverly couldn’t make it out. She shook her head. Anne Mather had walked to the microphone, and Sarah turned to face the stage, her hands gathered into a tight lump on her lap.

  Felicity fastened her eyes on Mather, her expression bland. Maybe she was good at hiding her fear, or maybe after life as the most beautiful girl on the Empyrean, she was so used to being afraid that she didn’t know how to be angry anymore.

  Still, it had been so long since Waverly had seen anyone from the Empyrean that it felt wonderful to see familiar faces, however changed they might be. She longed for Kieran, or even a picture of him, just so she could look at his face.

  Everyone in the congregation stood. Amanda motioned for Waverly to stay seated, but she stood anyway, leaning heavily on her new cane.

  Mather smiled warmly and raised her hands in an embracing gesture. “I want to begin this service by praising God for the glorious gift of stars!” she flung her arm toward the large porthole above, where a veil of stars twinkled. The congregation gave a prolonged ovation. Even Waverly smiled as she looked at the beautiful sky she’d missed for so long.