by Joe Vasicek
The woman put her hand on his arm, pulling him to her. The taste of vomit filled Mariya’s mouth.
“All right,” he said, taking her by the waist. “Like you’re her.”
All her life, Mariya had been taught that love meant giving yourself completely to another person. That was why the kiss, no matter how small or how innocent, had horrified her. Jeremiah and Noemi had a love that was beautiful, with a future that shone with all the brilliance of a newborn star. To risk shattering it all with an act of infidelity, no matter how small—that was unthinkable. Even if Noemi never found out, surely it would grow like some sort of cancer, slowly killing their love until it had all become corrupted.
But something strange had happened after that kiss. The woman had upheld her end of the bargain, arranging for them to join the colony expedition on the Hope of Oriana. And Jeremiah had gone back to his wife, loving her just as much as he had before. It was as if the kiss had never happened.
How could a man who had given his heart to a woman ever share a piece of that with another? How could he split his affections and still stay true? At the time, it had baffled her. But now, lying on her bunk in the Hope of Oriana, the reality of it struck her with all the force of a meteor.
If Jeremiah could share a piece of his love for Noemi with that woman, he could also share it with me.
Chills shot from the back of her neck to her fingertips. She lifted her head from her pillow, her mind racing. Could she really—but no, that was crazy.
Or was it? Her ancestors who had settled at Delta Oriana had taken multiple wives. They’d managed to make it work. It wasn’t a common practice anymore, but these were the Far Outworlds—a place where good men were in short supply, just like the old times. And Jeremiah was a good man, the kind of man her father had said was so rare. His words came back to her: I don’t ever want you to settle for someone who won’t treat you right.
She took a deep breath and stared in thought at the ceiling. Her tears were gone now, replaced by an ever growing excitement.
Her father already knew and trusted Jeremiah. Unlike all the boys on the colony ship, he was already committed to the Deltan ways and traditions. True, that was only because of his wife, but Noemi would understand—she wasn’t the type to be jealous. Besides, Mariya was fluent in both Deltan and Gaian—they relied on her so much for translation, she was practically married to them both already. And if that was true, why shouldn’t she make it official and become Jeremiah’s second wife? What was so icky or strange about that?
He’s still a man who belongs to somebody else, a voice in Mariya’s head whispered. Even if they agree to it, he won’t be yours alone—you’ll always have to share him with another woman, and she’ll have to share him with you.
But that wasn’t the important thing. The important thing was that in just a few months, she and the two hundred some-odd colonists would be starting a new life in the Far Outworlds more than three parsecs from the nearest human being. If she was ever to marry and have a family of her own, she would have to play the cards the universe had dealt her.
And really, what was so bad about sharing a husband with someone else? Especially if the other woman was as close a friend as Noemi. As sister-wives, their friendship might even be strengthened, since marriages always brought everyone closer together. And since Jeremiah was such a good man, she had no doubts that he would be able to take care of them both equally well.
It was all so perfect, she could barely keep still. The only thing that remained was to convince everyone. Her mother would almost certainly be on board—stars knew she was anxious enough to marry her off already. Her father might have doubts, but he already knew and trusted Jeremiah, so it wouldn’t take much to swing him over to her side. And as for Captain Elijah, she didn’t think he would object as long as it was all consensual.
But that left Jeremiah and Noemi—the two most important variables to consider. Would they open up and welcome her into their family and marriage? Or would they reject her like some sort of man-stealing bitch? Mariya didn’t think so, but it would still be tricky to get them both to say yes.
And what if she failed? What if they said no, and the whole thing made it impossible for them to be friends again? The thought filled her with terror, but she swallowed it as best as she could. Whatever the risks, she had little choice—and besides, the benefits were worth the risks. Jeremiah was the key to her future now, of that she was certain. And if it took some guile to win him—guile like her mother—well, then so be it.
Chapter 12
Noemi put a hand under her stomach and steadied herself as she rose from her seat in the cabin of the Ariadne. The floor felt cold under her bare feet, but she paid it no mind. She ducked under the doorway and stepped into the ship’s narrow cockpit, behind Jeremahra who sat in the over-sized pilot’s chair. His wavy brown hair was a mess as always, but after nearly a month in space alone together, the same was probably true of hers. Not that it mattered. She smiled and ran her hand over his head, savoring the feeling of being alone with the man she loved.
A large yellow crescent caught her eye. It was a gas giant planet, with beautiful rings that stretched like a heavenly highway around to the night side of the world. She squinted and leaned forward. Not too far away, a rocky gray moon loomed on the outer edge of the rings. Almost a dozen nearby spacecraft showed up as glistening little specks. The stars, which normally shone like a soft carpet out in the depths of space, now were all but invisible, swallowed up in the light of an orange-yellow sun.
I wonder where we are now, Noemi thought as she stared out the main window. Not that she was worried. Wherever Jeremahra took her, she trusted that things would be all right. After all, God had brought them together for a reason—not the least of which was the baby growing inside of her.
The radio intercom cackled, and a scratchy voice said something in Gaian that Noemi didn’t quite catch. Jeremahra turned and leaned forward in the pilot’s chair.
“Offer-motive, port authority,” he said. “We are looking for hope Oriana. Have they yet arrived?”
He means the Hope of Oriana, Noemi corrected herself. She was getting better at understanding his language, but there were still a lot of gaps in her knowledge. It wasn’t too hard to pick out the individual words, but phrases and sentences still gave her trouble. Even so, she’d come a long way since they’d met, back when they could barely understand each other at all.
The voice on the radio returned, as scratchy and impossible to understand as ever. The only word that Noemi caught was Ariadne, the name of Jeremahra’s starship. Apparently, they were coming in to dock. She slipped around the side of the chair to get a better look out the forward window.
“Friends?” she asked, pointing.
“Yes,” Jeremahra answered. “We are going see friends soon.”
“See friends soon,” she said softly, thinking of Mariya. That girl was a godsend, a close and trusted friend in the unlikeliest of places. She loved Jeremahra, and there was certainly a closeness between them that she’d never felt with anyone else, but sometimes she just needed a woman to talk to. With the baby coming soon, that need was increasingly impossible to ignore.
“Yes,” he said, glancing over at her. “I looking forward it too.”
She smiled and sat down on the armrest, keeping one hand under her stomach for support. He reached up and gently stroked her hair. The orange-yellow light of the system sun shone brightly through the auto-tinted glass of the cockpit window, warm and mellow.
“How long?” she asked.
“Not too long,” Jeremahra answered. “Five six hours maybe.”
That’s a long time to wait when there’s someone you want to see, she thought to herself. The crescent moon loomed larger than the yellow ringed planet, though far enough to one side that it didn’t dominate the view. Even though the moon’s surface was a dull, almost uniform gray, she saw what looked like clouds in the atmosphere reflecting the light of the sunset.
> “What is it?” she asked, pointing at the moon.
“That? That is B’tum. It is terra-firm world—like new Earth, but not now. Someday.”
She frowned. “New Earth?”
“Yes.”
The world certainly didn’t look like an Earth. Except for the clouds, it looked gray and barren. Craters pocked the surface, a testament to countless millennia of geologic slumber. The rocky moon wasn’t dead—to be dead, it would have to have first been alive.
“They are terra-firming it now,” said Jeremahra, waving his hand. “It will be like Earth, but not for long time.”
Terraforming, she realized. That’s what he’s saying. From the tone of his voice, he seemed almost wistful.
“Home will be?” she asked, tensing a little. Mariya had told her that they were going on a colony mission to the Zarmina system—that she and Jeremahra would meet up with them midway, after making a few trade runs. But from the expression on his face, it almost seemed he had a mind to stay and settle here.
“Home? No,” he said, shaking his head. “We stay with our friends—Zarmina is home.”
A wave of relief swept through her at the prospect of traveling with their friends. Still, a part of her couldn’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment. As much as she loved Jeremahra, the starfaring lifestyle was starting to wear her down. She patted her stomach and tried to imagine what it would be like once they settled down for good. With the baby on the way, it wouldn’t be long—or so she hoped.
“How are you feeling?” Jeremahra asked, his face a picture of concern. The light brown stubble on his chin gave him a rugged look, like a bandit or a space pirate. The contrast between his expression and his appearance made her laugh.
“Happy,” she said. I’m happy.
“How is the baby?”
“Very good,” she said, wishing again that she had a better command of his language. There were so many things she wanted to tell him—what it felt like when the baby kicked, or how the baby had a taste for cinnamon and raisins. Instead, all she could do was smile and tell him that everything was all right, as if the pregnancy was just another problem waiting to blow up in his face. It was a good thing there hadn’t been any complications—if so, he probably would have panicked a lot worse than her.
“We going to see our friends soon—they help you with the pregnancy. More than me.”
“Yes.” I know.
She ran her hand across his chest as he returned to the piloting controls. If she could, she would have told him how much she appreciated all he was doing for her—that he’d done so much for her already. She didn’t know how much left he had to offer, but she knew that he would gladly give her all of it.
* * * * *
Mariya paced the narrow corridor in front of the docking airlock, clenching her hands and glancing at the access panel every other moment. Where was the Ariadne? They were supposed to dock any minute now—she’d gathered as much during her work shift. She’d run straight from her post at communications, anxious that she’d be late, but ten whole minutes had already passed and still there was no sign of them.
“A little excited, are we?” her father asked her in Deltan, chuckling. He leaned against the smooth metal wall, arms folded.
“Of course—why shouldn’t I be?” Honestly, her father could really be a pain sometimes.
“You do know he’s not as eager to see you as you are to see him. Don’t you?”
Mariya’s heart fell, but she managed to roll her eyes. “I know, I know.” But even a second wife has to get something.
“You’re sure about this?” her father asked, his face suddenly serious. “This is what you want? You’re sure?”
“Of course I’m sure, Dad. Are you?”
He sighed. “Jeremiah is a good man, but I doubt he wants to share himself with another woman. Still, it’s your choice, and it’s not a bad one. Just let me talk with him first.”
A minute passed uneventfully, followed by another. Just when she was about to run back to the control room to make sure he was actually coming, the muffled sound of metal on metal reverberated through the bulkheads, announcing that Jeremiah’s starship had docked.
Her heart leaped and her stomach flipped as she turned to face the door. On the other side, the magnetic docking clamps hummed as they engaged, ending with a loud clang that made her teeth chatter. Without realizing it, she started counting down the seconds for the airlock to open. One one thousand, two one thousand …
Don’t be too eager, she tried to tell herself. You don’t want to overwhelm him. Even so, it was hard not to feel overwhelmed herself. If her plans succeeded, everything would be fine and they’d all be happy, but if she failed—she tried not to think about that.
After an agonizing minute and a half, the door hissed open, and Jeremiah stepped through. He wore a crisp gray jumpsuit with a black synthleather vest, dozens of tiny pouches lining his belt. His face was smooth and clean-shaven, with long, dark eyelashes framing his light-brown eyes. He stood about half a head taller than her, clearly much older—but not too much. Not for the Outworlds.
Forgetting all caution, she lunged forward to greet him. Fortunately, Noemi came into view just as she realized her mistake. She changed her direction at the last second and threw her arms around Jeremiah’s wife.
“Noemi!” she said with a hug. Noemi was a sweet girl, if somewhat plain, with straight brown hair and narrow hips and waist. Her stomach was noticeably pregnant, however, bulging out from her otherwise thin body. Mariya took care not to jostle her too much, though of course it was hard not to.
“Hi, Mariya,” said Noemi in Deltan, kissing her cheek. “How have you been these last few months?”
“Very good, very good,” said Mariya, responding enthusiastically in kind. “What about you, sister?” Soon to be sister-wife.
Noemi gave her a funny look, but said nothing. Jeremiah watched them from off to the side, his hands in his vest pockets.
“It’s good to see you too, Mariya,” he said in Gaian.
“You too,” she said, giving him a hug. Was that too forward of her? Probably, because it seemed to catch him off guard. He returned the hug awkwardly, making her cringe and pull away.
I really hope I didn’t screw that up, she thought. Before her expression betrayed her, she turned back to Noemi.
“How was the voyage?”
Noemi smiled. “Fine, thanks.”
“You didn’t stay long at Beta Oriana, did you?”
“No, thank the stars. I couldn’t stand that place.”
“Me neither,” said Mariya. “Can you imagine living on a world with that ugly red sun? I don’t know how they can stand it.”
“I know, right? We only spent a couple of days there, though we did go down to the surface.”
“Really? Why?”
“To see a doctor of course,” said Noemi, patting her stomach.
“Oh yeah! How’s the pregnancy going?”
“Very well.”
“Is it a boy or a girl? When are you due?” There were dozens of other questions that Mariya wanted to ask, but she did her best to keep too many of them from spilling out at once.
“I don’t know,” said Noemi. “The doctor didn’t speak Deltan, so Jerem-ahra had to translate. If all goes well, I’ll deliver the baby right after we arrive at Zarmina.”
“You’re so lucky—your family is going to shine so bright and strong.”
“Thanks. I definitely hope so.”
Me too, Mariya thought silently. And I’m going to be a part of it.
As Jeremiah and her father talked quietly off to the side, Captain Elijah stepped through the hatchway, dressed in a crisp gray uniform. “Quite right—quite right!” he bellowed in Gaian, his voice booming in the narrow space.
“Captain Elijah?” said Jeremiah. “What are you doing here?”
“You didn’t think I’d let you both onto my ship without coming down to welcome you aboard, did you?” He laughed and slapp
ed Jeremiah on the back. “I know you’re anxious to get to B’tum Station and unload your cargo, but before you do, I thought I’d come down and give you a quick tour of the ship.”
“Who’s that?” Noemi asked in Deltan. She leaned in close for Mariya to translate.
“Don’t worry—it’s just the captain. He’s going to give us a tour of the ship.”
“Ah.”
This is why they need me, Mariya thought to herself. Without me, who would help them translate?
As Elijah led them through the hatchway to the main corridor, Jeremiah paused, probably to let Noemi through first. Since Mariya was translating, she took her by the arm and walked through with her, giving Jeremiah a smile.
“The Hope of Oriana was originally built as an old Imperial freighter,” Captain Elijah explained, “though before she was decommissioned and sold, she was operating as a third class passenger liner on the coreward side of the Oriana Cluster.”
“What did he say?” Noemi asked as they squeezed against the walls to let some of the other passengers through.
Mariya shrugged. “He’s just telling them the history of the ship. Frankly, it’s kind of boring—unless you want to know about it.”
“No, that’s all right.” She laughed. “I don’t even know the history of the Ariadne.”
“Normally, we try to keep the crew and passengers from getting too cozy,” Elijah continued, speaking in Gaian. “Since this is the Hope’s final voyage, though, the separation isn’t too rigorously enforced. I’ve set up a biweekly post rotation to give the chartered crew a chance to mingle a bit, as well as give the colonists some training in case it becomes necessary for them to fill in.”
“I just came off of communications,” Mariya blurted to the others. “It was fun!”
Jeremiah nodded and looked off as if in thought. Her cheeks burned—why did she have go be so impulsive? He probably thought she was weird—or worse, just another teenage girl.