Glow

by Amy Kathleen Ryan

  “You know that’s not your fault, right?” he said.

  “I didn’t imagine the services were being monitored,” she said, sounding robotic. “I wanted the plan to work so badly that I didn’t let myself think of how we could get caught.”

  “Waverly…” He smoothed the hair out of her eyes, dabbed at the tears running down her face with his sleeve, then kissed her eyelids, her nose, her chin, her cheeks, her forehead, her lips. She leaned toward him, but he pulled away from her long enough to say, “Your plan worked. You’re here. And so are the girls. You did it.”

  “I’m going to miss Sammy,” she whispered.

  Kieran could say nothing to this. He took her by the arm and pulled until she got up from his desk and followed him into the bedroom. He sat her down on the mattress, he got down on one knee, and he took her hand and kissed it.

  “I need you,” he told her.

  She only watched him, but he could see the emotion in her eyes.

  “I feel like you’re already my wife,” he told her.

  She tucked her chin, nodded. “I do too.”

  He rose toward her, pulled her face to his, and kissed her, kissed her, kissed her.

  They lay back together on the bed, wrapped around each other, clinging, lips on skin, hands in hair, rolling over each other, silent except for the sound of their rushing breath.

  EPILOGUE

  Those who are faithful know only the trivial side of love: it is the faithless who know love’s tragedies.

  —Oscar Wilde

  STRANGERS

  They slept tangled together until a knock sounded on the bedroom door. Waverly lifted her head, drawing breath sharply, then remembered where she was and dropped back to her pillow. I’m home, she whispered in her mind, and smiled.

  Kieran rose, scrubbing his hand over his face, and cracked the door open. Arthur Dietrich stood outside the bedroom door, gnawing his bottom lip. “Kieran, everyone’s waiting.”

  Kieran stared at Arthur blankly. “For what?”

  “Services. You’re late.”

  Waverly sat up, rubbing sleep from her eyes. She was surprised to find herself overjoyed to see the moon face of Arthur Dietrich. She waved; he nodded shyly.

  “Is everybody there?” Kieran asked, sounding embarrassed.

  “Yes! I put out the bread. We had to make twice as much last night, for the girls, and we’re out of jam until next week when the strawberries are ready, so I used honey.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Eight twenty! You better get a move on!”

  “Stall for me,” Kieran said, and closed the door. Waverly watched as he ran to the bedroom closet and slipped into a flax shirt, kicked into his suit pants, muttering, “I can’t believe I forgot.”

  Waverly wrapped the blanket around her shoulders. She’d been sweaty-cold all night. Now she simply felt cold. “What’s going on?”

  “It’s a new thing,” he said distractedly. “I started it to cheer everyone up. You should come.”

  “Come to what?” she asked with the slightest pang of dread. Had Arthur said “services”? Dazed, she looked at the objects in the room—an old saddle, a sepia photo of a nineteenth-century hunter holding his rifle—and felt almost as disoriented as she’d been aboard the New Horizon. Watching Kieran knot his silk tie, she asked warily, “What are you getting ready for?”

  He smiled. “Services. They’re in the central bunker. Hurry or you’ll miss them.”

  Waverly felt as wooden as the chair in the corner. She sat there motionless as Kieran ran to his desk and picked up a portable reader. He was at the door when he remembered her and dashed back to kiss her good-bye.

  “Will you come? I want you to know what I’ve accomplished here.”

  She wanted to ask him just what he’d accomplished, but he was gone before she had the chance.

  She stared at the door as it closed behind him, her arms wrapped around her knees, fighting to suppress a dim panic that threatened to overtake her.

  Calm down, she told herself. This isn’t the New Horizon. You’re home.

  But she didn’t believe it.

  She felt the traces of Kieran on her skin, the rough feeling on her chin and lips where his whiskers had grazed her. Her muscles were sore from the needy way they’d poured into each other. She’d imagined it so many times, she’d wanted it to be perfect. And it nearly was, the way he’d looked so attentively at her eyes and body, his fingers wandering over her skin, the way he’d pulled strands of hair from her face. But when it was over, she couldn’t help feeling as though there’d been something else that was possible, something more that could have blossomed between them.

  But she’d told herself that would come, with time. It didn’t all have to happen in one night. And she’d lost herself in the wonderful feeling of sleeping in his arms.

  Now, last night seemed unreal, as though it were something she’d watched on a com screen. She barely inhabited her body as she dressed. She pulled on a pair of Kieran’s hemp trousers, a tunic from his closet. She didn’t bother with the mirrors or her hair. She walked barefoot down the corridors, letting the metal chill her soles. Her heart seemed to be pulling blood away from her arms, her legs, her mind. She blinked away dark spots.

  The central bunker was crowded, noisy with chatter and laughter. If the girls were sad not to find their parents—or any adults—here, they were also very happy to be back on their home ship with their brothers, friends, and boyfriends. And now that the boys knew that at least some of their parents were alive on the New Horizon, they were happy also. Waverly could feel the hope in the room, but at a remove, as if it couldn’t really touch her.

  She sat in the back row and watched Kieran take the podium. He was beaming.

  “Thank you for coming,” he said, waiting for the crowd to settle. His eyes landed on Waverly, and he smiled at her before continuing. “First, I want to welcome back the girls. We missed you all very, very much.”

  There was a great whoop of assent from the boys, and Kieran laughed, motioning for them to quiet down.

  “About five months ago,” he began, “our community was torn apart. The boys were left behind, worried for our parents and our sisters, and afraid for ourselves. The girls were taken to live with strangers, and had to endure unforgivable violations.”

  “What does he know about it?” Waverly heard the whisper from a few rows ahead. It was Sarah, shaking her head and frowning. They looked at each other, and Waverly knew they were wondering the same thing: Why was Kieran preaching a sermon? Did he know he sounded just like Anne Mather?

  “When you’re dealt such a horrible blow,” he went on, “there are two choices. You either give up, or keep going. But you can’t do it alone. We humans are social creatures. We boys needed each other while we waited for you girls to come back. We had to find a way to join together, to create a new, stronger community. And we did.

  “The Empyrean has remade itself into something vibrant and healthy. We have our trials, our issues, our thwarted dreams, and our private grief, but we also know that every week we can set all those things aside and come here. We break bread together, we talk, and we remind each other of the purpose that’s so much greater than our small plans and concerns.”

  He looked out over the audience, and Waverly thought of an old film she’d seen about the proud, single-minded conductor of a symphony orchestra. He’d looked at his musicians the very same way.

  “There is a design working behind the curtain of the stars, and we are fulfilling it, drawn toward the future on the tide of time, toward our destiny as the first settlers of a new world.”

  The room was still. He has them, she thought. Even the older girls were listening hard.

  “We don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow,” said Kieran. “We’ve learned that the hard way, haven’t we? We had a peaceful existence for so long, we thought we’d always have it. But we were wrong. There was a threat behind the veil of the nebula that we didn’t
see, and it left us hurt, bleeding, near death. But now we understand who our enemies are. And we will triumph over them.

  “How do I know that? How can I be so sure that we are meant to avenge our loved ones? I’ll tell you what I know, deep in my heart.”

  He paused. His knowing, calculated delivery reminded Waverly so much of Anne Mather that she nearly groaned. This is his talent, she realized. His gift. It had been hidden all along, this strange ability to make people believe he knew some secret truth, that only he could show them the way. Because only he knows the mind of God.

  It was such a dangerous, terrifying lie.

  And all the more terrifying because he believed it.

  “What we’ve made here, after all our pain and hardship, is special,” Kieran said. “It’s like a glowing light in the dark universe, kindled by God and burning inside of us. The sacrifices we’ve made, the pain we’ve endured, has been for a purpose: to make us into this.”

  Kieran’s arms opened wide, as if embracing all the young people sitting before him.

  “We are the new generation. With God’s help we will make our new home into a land of plenty. We’ll welcome the millions that follow us to our rich, bountiful world. But before that, I promise you this: We will find our parents, we will punish the people who took them from us, and we will be the victorious makers of our new world, our New Earth, our new home!”

  Kieran smiled at the rapt faces before him, stepped away from the podium, and sank to his knees. Folding his hands under his chin, he prayed.

  Seeing the entire congregation follow Kieran’s example, Waverly got to her feet and stumbled out of the room.

  I got Samantha killed, she thought, leaning against a wall in the hallway. I killed a man. I left my mother a prisoner. And after all that pain and misery, I finally escaped from Anne Mather and her insanity.

  Except I didn’t.

  KIERAN

  Kieran got to his knees, thankful that his sermon had gone so well. He’d had to update it, extemporizing the parts about the girls being back, but even so, it had flowed seamlessly. As always now, he’d felt as though something greater were speaking through him, using him to show his congregation the way.

  Each sermon made his faith stronger.

  When the congregation got to their knees, he glanced around quickly to find Waverly, but she wasn’t in her chair. Had she gone? Though her absence startled him, he went on smoothly, calling out, “Who has thanks to share?”

  It turned out that almost everyone in the congregation had something to be thankful for, so the service went on for a long time. Kieran listened as patiently as he could, but his attention kept drifting to Waverly’s empty chair. Where was she? And why had she gone?

  Was she sick? Did her leg hurt? Had he angered her somehow? He knew he’d said nothing offensive or wrong in his sermon, so that couldn’t be it.

  When the final prayers were over, Kieran wove through the crowd, looking for her in vain. A few kids shook his hand and thanked him. Little Serafina Mbewe wrapped her chubby arms around his legs adoringly, but he was so impatient to leave that he almost tripped trying to disentangle himself.

  He jogged through the corridors to his quarters, but Waverly wasn’t there. He sat down, stood up. Finally, after feeling stupid, confused, hurt, and useless, he figured out where she’d gone: home.

  He jogged down two flights of stairs to where the families had lived.

  The door to her quarters was ajar, and he found her on the kitchen floor, crying. There were rotten black vegetables on the floor and an enormous mound of moldy green bread dough on the counter.

  “Waverly,” he said, bewildered.

  “Just go, please,” she said. She wouldn’t look at him.

  He knelt and put a hand on her knee. “What’s wrong?”

  “Everything!” she groaned, leaning back against a cabinet.

  “Tell me.”

  “No, Kieran,” she said, pushing him away. He resisted, but she was still too weak to move him, so she gave up and crumpled into a heap.

  “I am not going anywhere until you tell me what’s wrong,” he said. “What is it?”

  “You,” she whispered.

  “What?”

  “You, Kieran.” She swiped at her tears. “What the hell was that back there?” she demanded.

  “What do you mean? The services?”

  “Yes, the services,” she retorted. “Do you have any idea what you’re becoming?”

  She reached up, took hold of the counter, and pulled herself to her feet. She seemed unsteady, but she wouldn’t let him touch her.

  “Waverly, I don’t understand!” he said, following her into the living room.

  Instead of speaking she started tidying, gathering cups from the coffee table, straightening a stack of papers, and lining up three pairs of shoes next to the door. She picked up a jacket that had been draped across a chair and hung it lovingly in the closet. All the while, Kieran watched her, confused and hurt.

  “Talk to me,” he pleaded.

  When she met his eyes, he saw she was furiously angry. “I just can’t believe it, Kieran.”

  “What?”

  “You’re just like her.”

  “Who?”

  “Anne Mather!”

  “Who?” He wasn’t sure he knew the name, though it sounded familiar. Had he read it somewhere?

  “She’s the leader on the New Horizon, Kieran. The mastermind behind the attack.”

  He sat down heavily on the couch. How could Waverly compare him to one of those evil people?

  “She’s their Captain,” Waverly went on, “and their priestess, and their messiah. She has all the power on that ship, Kieran, and she does terrible things with it.”

  “I’m not like that,” Kieran objected. “I’m a good person.”

  “So was she,” Waverly said. Softening a little, she sat next to him and put a hand on his arm. “But now she says she knows the mind of God. Kieran, nobody knows what God wants.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with telling people what I believe, Waverly,” he said with a hint of resentment.

  “There is something wrong with pretending to be a prophet,” she said, her jaw set.

  The unfairness of what she was saying crashed down on him, hard. “Do you know what I’ve been through?” he protested. “I’ve been beaten and starved and nearly murdered!” He stood, pushing her hand away. “You have no idea what it was like on this ship after you left!” he shouted, red faced. “No idea at all!”

  He expected her to shrink away, but she stood nose to nose with him. “I know what it was like on the New Horizon, Kieran. Anne Mather acted pious, but underneath it all she was violent and insane. And if you continue on this road, that’s what you’ll become, too!”

  “I’m making us into a community! I’m making us into a family!”

  “You can do that without pretending to know what God’s plan is. No one knows that, and it’s wrong to act as if you do!”

  “Why? That doesn’t make any sense! Everything we think and do and say is His plan for us. It’s obvious, isn’t it?”

  “Not to me,” she said, her mouth compressing into a stubborn line.

  “Whatever human beings decide to do, events unfold in a way we can’t control.”

  “And you think God is in control.”

  “Of course He is! Everything He does, everything that happens, has a reason! And talking about it has helped the boys. It’s what keeps them going! Otherwise they would have given up, Waverly. Everyone was so … sad and useless. I had to strengthen them somehow.”

  “And the only way was to preach the Sermon on the Mount?”

  “I gave them something to believe in. I gave them a future!”

  “You gave them a future?”

  Kieran stared at her. How had this happened? Where had all her trust gone? She stared back at him, her face immovable. Had her eyes always been so hollow, her mouth so rigid?

  “But … Waverly, it’s me.�
�

  Her face fell into a mass of pain. She nodded, her head flopping, fingers shaking as she pressed them against her eyelids. “That’s why it’s so horrible.”

  “Honey…” He reached for her, put his hands on her arms. “You can trust me.”

  “Can I? Then prove it, Kieran. Give up this sickness.”

  “What sickness?” he cried. “I’ve never felt better in my life! I know my purpose, Waverly. Our purpose. We have a destiny to fulfill, and I need you to help me.”

  “This isn’t the way. If you’d seen what I’ve seen … Please, Kieran.” She took his hand and kissed it. “Please, please don’t turn into that woman.”

  “I am not Anne Mather!” he shouted, pushing her away so hard that she stumbled. He stormed down the hallways, burst into his quarters, and threw himself onto the bed he’d shared with her only hours before.

  How could she judge him like this? How could she think that the beautiful thing he’d created was bad? Everyone else loved it! Why didn’t she?

  He’d expected skeptics. But he’d never thought that Waverly would be one of them!

  He had never, ever, felt so deeply betrayed. Yet he still yearned for her.

  Maybe when she calmed down, she’d change her mind. Maybe she’d learn to trust him again.

  I’ll make her trust me again, he thought.

  There was a knock at the door, and he sat up. “Come in!” he called hopefully. Maybe she’d come to apologize.

  But it was Arthur Dietrich, his face flushed with excitement. “Kieran! We think we’ve found the New Horizon!”

  “Where?” He bolted to his feet.

  “Come on, I’ll show you!”

  He followed Arthur to Central Command and peered at the radar display. There was a dot on the screen ahead of them, moving parallel to their own course, toward New Earth.

  “It was so easy,” Sarek said, smiling for the first time since the attack. “With the nebula clear, the radar works perfectly!”

  “That has to be New Horizon,” said Arthur. “Look how fast it’s going.”