by Joe Vasicek
She touched the image with her finger, and the menu dissolved into the void. A moment later, she felt that peculiar falling sensation as the simulation loaded. Colors blurred into existence all around her, shapes coalescing from nothingness. Weight and substance returned to her body, and before she knew it she was standing barefoot in a mountain meadow, the blades of grass tickling her legs as they danced in the deliciously cool breeze.
The incredible vastness of the place was always the first thing that struck her. All her life, she’d lived on space stations and starships, with nothing but portholes to let her know that there was anything beyond those tiny artificial worlds. But here, there were no walls, no ceiling—only a long, rolling floor with a living green carpet that waved in the gentle wind. Outwardly, it seemed completely alien to everything she’d ever known, and yet, in a deeper sense, it felt so familiar, like a preview of heaven. Familiar like Earth.
The hem of her simple white dress fluttered about her knees. She looked off a short ways to the cluster of boulders where she and Jeremahra usually sat together. Her heart beat a little faster, even though she knew he wasn’t there. They’d spent so much time here that the emotional residue of his presence had been ingrained in the simulation, like a scent to be savored.
She walked over to the boulders and closed her eyes, reveling in it. With a little imagination, she could almost feel his hands caressing her shoulders. She needed another person right now—someone to hold her and let her know that everything would be all right.
It’s not like we’re trying to steal him, Mariya’s words came hurtling back to her. Just—well, share him.
The thought made her sick, even now. How could she possibly share Jeremahra with another woman? She’d shared the most intimate parts of herself with him—not just physically, but emotionally as well. Even though they didn’t speak the same language, they shared a bond that transcended words. Out in the long eternal silence between the stars, nothing else mattered—nothing else felt more true and more real. And now that she carried his child, it was as if they had touched a little piece of heaven itself. After all that, to give her husband up to another woman—she might as well rip out her own heart and hand that over instead. Even if she and Mariya were best friends, there were parts of herself that she couldn’t bear to share with anyone. Jeremahra was so close to her now, watching him take another woman in her arms would feel worse than getting stabbed.
A chill gust of wind blew down from the mountains, making the grass bow low. Noemi wrapped her arms around her chest as goosebumps pricked up around her skin. Of on the horizon, clouds began to gather—thick, brooding storm clouds, threatening to cover the sky. There was no lightning, however. This was not a summer storm, but the coming of something much darker.
Noemi knew only little about the seasons of Earth—bits and pieces from old legends and half-forgotten histories. She expected that it was similar to other planets, like Gaia Nova and the terraformed worlds in the Coreward Stars. There was a time when things were alive, and a time when things died. Though she’d lived in space all her life, she could imagine what that was like.
The grass changed from green to gold to yellow-brown. The stalks that had once waved so prominently in the wind now bent low in the dust, the flowers wilted and drooping. A cold gust blew across the land, bringing with it a host of dead leaves. The trees turned orange and red, brilliant flames of color in a last passionate gasp before the end.
We had our moment of passion, Noemi thought woefully. It seemed like forever while it lasted, and that at least was a blessing. But nothing lasts forever—not even the stars.
Only a few months ago, she’d fully expected to die in the famine that had ravaged her home. Back then, it hadn’t seemed like things could have gotten any worse. She’d resigned herself to her fate, accepting death as inescapable—and then Jeremahra had come into her life. When he’d whisked her away on his starship, everything had completely changed. Her home, her family—all of that was gone forever. But just as spring follows winter, the new life he’d given her had more than filled the space left by the one she’d lost. Though they were strangers to each other at first, a beautiful love had blossomed between them. With the child in her womb growing larger every day, that love soon promised to bear fruit.
And now she knew that she’d been wrong. Things could get worse—much worse.
The cold wind felt like a knife against her skin, but she made no effort to shield herself. Dark clouds covered the sky, and the scent of smoke carried over the wind. It tore at Noemi’s dress and left her skin red and raw. As painful as it felt, though, it was only a feeble echo of the emotional wounds within her.
How could Mariya trap her like this? Her best friend—her only friend from the exodus of their home? There was no way that she or Jeremahra could refuse her. And yet, to share him with another woman—the thought chilled her as much as the cold air around her.
The leaves slowly browned and fell from trees, leaving them naked in the wind. The grass was little more than a dead stubble now, and the air was thick with dust. It was as if the world itself was dying, and Noemi was in the center of it. But if the simulator echoed the feelings of her heart, then that was only to be expected.
* * * * *
Mariya walked into the dream center, her eyes flitting from bed to bed. Where had Noemi run off to? If that girl had gotten herself lost—but no, there she was.
“Oh, hi there!” said Mariya as she ambled up to Noemi’s side. With the dream monitor off, she looked a little worn, sitting up and rubbing her head.
“Hello, Mariya. Where were you all dayshift?”
“Sorry about that—I had an early work shift that I forgot to tell you about. Did you find your way around the ship okay?”
Noemi gave her the strangest, most impenetrable look. It chilled her for a second, and made her wonder if she was angry. But at the same time, there was a sad resignation there, as if Noemi were submitting to something horrible yet inevitable.
“Yes,” she said, her voice barely louder than a whisper. “It took me a while to find the bathrooms, though.”
“Oh—that,” said Mariya, her cheeks turning red. “I guess I should have shown those to you earlier. Well, it won’t take long to get used to the Hope of Oriana. It’s not an awfully big ship. And even if you don’t speak Gaian, the people aren’t too unfriendly. But don’t worry—I’ll be sure to help.”
Noemi nodded and looked her in the eye. Mariya realized that she was babbling.
“Hey, do you want me to show you something?” she asked, trying not to sound shaken. “It’s something we missed on the tour.”
“Sure.”
“Here—come with me.”
She took Noemi by the hand and pulled her toward the door. Her skin felt unusually clammy, as if she were sick or had a fever. Mariya frowned.
“Are you feeling all right?”
“I’m fine,” said Noemi. From the sallowness in her eyes, though, she didn’t look it.
“No, really. Is something the matter? You look sick—maybe we should take you to the doctor.”
“It’s not that,” she said softly. “Here, why don’t you show me the other part of the ship?”
“Well …”
Mariya was unsure what to do. Noemi smiled, reassuring her somewhat, but she still didn’t seem too well. Did she need to see the doctor? Doctor Andreson was down on B’tum with everyone else, but there was bound to be a nurse somewhere. Even so, it would take some effort to track one down, and Noemi probably wouldn’t consent to that anyway.
“All right,” said Mariya. “Come on, let me show you the observation deck.”
She led Noemi down the hallway to a narrow, steep stairway set in the recess between the dream center and the nearest bunk room. It led to a tiny corridor with a maintenance shaft leading back to the engines. The shaft was barely more than a crawlspace, with wires and pipes skirting along the foil-coated insulation. Someone had left the hatch open—Mariya s
topped to close it.
“Umph!” she said as she pushed the heavy durasteel door. A handhold on the wall helped her to get some leverage, but it wasn’t until Noemi pitched in that they were able to get it closed.
“Those things are heavy,” said Mariya as she wiped her forehead. “Thanks for the help.”
“Gravity is always a bit heavier on the lower levels,” said Noemi. “At least, that’s true on the stations—I don’t know about starships.”
“It’s true here too. Something having to do with artificial gravity field lines, though don’t ask me about the details. In any case, on to the observation deck!”
They walked down the narrow, windowless corridor past a number of storage rooms. The main stairway was closer to the mess hall, of course, but this way was shorter, and Noemi didn’t seem to mind much anyway. A door on the other end opened up to a circular room with round fishbowl windows on all sides. The dark brown hull of the ship stretched out above them like a wide awning, but nothing obstructed the vastness of space below.
“Wow,” said Noemi, walking toward the nearest window. Still, there was a listlessness in her voice that Mariya didn’t understand.
“This is a good place to come when you want to get away from everyone,” she said. “Of course, there’s usually someone else down here, but at least it’s not as crowded as the decks up above.”
“Who else comes here?”
Mariya shrugged. “I dunno—people who want to be alone, I guess. A lot of them bring books to read, since this is one of the only quiet places on this ship besides the dream center.”
“And it’s empty now because everyone is planetside.”
“More or less. That, or they’re on B’tum station right now—want to go? The next ferry shuttle leaves in just an hour.”
Noemi shook her head. “No, thanks. I don’t want to risk getting lost.”
“You won’t get lost—not with me showing you around. If you want, I can—”
“No.”
Her answer, though calm, was firm enough that Mariya dropped the subject.
Together, they stared out the window at the barren rocky world below. Great ancient craters stared up at them like empty eye sockets, with only the barest hint of clouds along the highest rims. Little splotches of red and green showed where the first stages of terraforming had already begun. Off on the horizon, the yellow gas giant Chronos rose with its magnificent rings glowing gold in the sunlight.
The Hope of Oriana was parked in a low orbit, parallel to the moon’s main orbital station. They’d jumped in from the L2 point of the Chronos-B’tum system just a few hours before, which was why she had spent the better part of her dayshift at communications. It had been a lot of work, but now that they were safely parked in orbit above the partially terraformed world, Mariya could relax.
“Where is Jerem-ahra?” Noemi asked.
“Jeremiah? I’m not sure, but I think he went to B’tum station. Do you want me to check?”
She shook her head and stared silently out the window.
“You know, now that we’re at port, we should have plenty of time for a language lesson,” said Mariya. A short one at least—no need to teach them so much that they don’t need me. “I think that will give us a good chance to spend some time together, perhaps even bond a little. What do you think?”
Noemi said nothing.
“Did you hear me? I asked if you think we should—”
“It sounds fine,” Noemi said softly.
Footsteps sounded on the stairwell leading down from the main hallway just outside the mess hall. It was a middle-aged woman, coming down with a reading tablet. Mariya drew in a sharp breath—even though no one else on the ship spoke Deltan, she didn’t like being in a place where she could be overheard.
“Do you think we can have the lesson on the Ariadne?” she asked. “It looks like the observation deck isn’t as empty as I’d thought.”
“Sure, why not,” said Noemi. She didn’t seem nearly as excited about it as Mariya.
“Hey, what’s the matter? Are you feeling well?”
Noemi sighed. “I’m doing fine, Mariya—really, I am. It’s just … I have some things to work through.”
“Like what? Can I help?”
She tensed ever so slightly, clenching her fingers together for a brief moment before looking away.
“Thanks, but I don’t think you can. Unless …”
“Unless what?”
“Never mind. Forget I said anything.”
“Forget that you said what?” asked Mariya, leaning forward. Now that her curiosity had been piqued, she absolutely had to know what was going on.
“I said nothing.”
“But you were about to say something. What was it?”
To her immense surprise, Noemi burst into silent tears. She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders trembling.
“Noemi? Noemi, what’s wrong?”
“Do you really have to do this to us? Force me to give him up, after all we’ve been through?”
Jeremiah, Mariya realized, her stomach sinking. She’s talking about us and Jeremiah. The woman on the other side of the room was staring at them now, but they couldn’t go to the upper decks to work through this issue—not in this condition.
“Don’t cry—please don’t cry,” she said, rubbing Noemi’s back. “I know it’s hard, but—”
“Then why are you—why?”
Why am I what? Mariya almost asked. Noemi’s tears had come so completely out of the dark that she didn’t know what to think. How could Noemi not see that this was the best path for them all?
“You don’t have to give him up,” she said softly. “He’ll still be your husband, and you’ll be his wife. His first wife.”
Noemi shook her head, her eyes suddenly fierce. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Mariya. You really don’t.”
“But—but it’s the best for all of us. Can’t you see? We’re practically married already, the three of us. We need each other.”
I need.
“We don’t need you,” said Noemi. “We got along fine without you on the Ariadne, and—” She clenched her fists, and in that moment, she seemed ready to lash out.
“W-wait!” Mariya squealed, covering her head with her arms.
But instead of hitting her, Noemi collapsed to the floor, burying her face in her hands again. Her sobs were much louder this time, and the middle-aged woman walked over across the room to them.
“Do you need any help?” she asked in Gaian. “The captain is still on board. If you want, I can go get him.”
“No!” Mariya blurted. “I mean, no thanks, we can handle this by ourselves. It’s just—” she paused, thinking quickly. “Just—my friend has lost a lot of family. She’s still working through it.”
“Really? I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I know,” said Mariya, smiling in a way that she hoped said would you please just give us a moment? without seeming too rude.
“Well, I’d better be going then. Let me know if I can help.”
“Thanks.”
As the woman walked away, Mariya turned back to Noemi and squatted beside her. Not knowing what to say, she put a hand on her shoulder, half expecting her to shrug it off. She didn’t though. They sat like that in silence together until Noemi had worked through the worst of her tears.
“I’m sorry,” she said at last, her voice strangely hollow. “I shouldn’t have gotten angry at you like that.”
“It’s okay—no harm done. Are we still friends?”
Noemi didn’t answer right away, so she hugged her close.
“Things will be better when we get to Zarmina,” said Mariya. “I know that they will. With the three of us together, we’ll be able to face anything.”
“But Mariya,” Noemi whispered, “do you really have to force this on me?”
There eyes met, and in that moment, Mariya’s words from earlier with her father cut into her like a laser: There’s no
need to make him feel like he doesn’t have a choice. Well, if the same was true of Noemi right now, then everything was in danger of falling apart.
But how could Noemi feel this way? Couldn’t she see that opening her marriage would solve all their problems? Mariya wouldn’t be in danger of living the rest of her life without a family of her own, and Noemi would have a companion and sister-wife to help her during the hard times. No one had to give anything up—not even Jeremiah. Sure, it might be a challenge for him to love them both, but she was okay with being the second wife. Was that what Noemi was afraid of—that she would somehow come in second in this relationship?
“No one is taking anyone away from anyone,” she said, gently rubbing Noemi’s back. “If anything, you’re getting a new sister. Is that all right? Do you not want me as your sister?”
“No—of course I do.”
“And as sister-wives, we’ll be so much closer than we are right now. Where we’re going, we’ll need to be as close as we can get. After all, what if something terrible happens to us? The nearest help will be light-years away—we’ll have to rely on each other. And what better way to do that than to become a family?”
“You’re right,” Noemi whispered.
Then why are you taking it so hard? Mariya almost asked. Instead, she rubbed Noemi’s back in silence for a few moments.
“You’re okay with it, then?” she asked.
Noemi didn’t answer right away. When she did, she looked Mariya in the eye.
“Do you think God brought us together for this reason?” she asked. “That this is his will—part of his plan?”
The question took Mariya aback. She stammered for a second, not sure how to answer.
“Does anything happen without a reason?” she blurted.
Noemi’s expression hardened, but she nodded. “You’re right, of course. If everything happens for a reason, then maybe this is God’s will for the both of us.”
“If it weren’t for you and Jeremiah, I’d be alone,” Mariya said, the words gushing out of her. “I was supposed to marry Benyamin, and we really should have gone through with it last year, but we were too poor. Now that we’re going to the far Outworlds, and he’s light-years away with everyone else, I—”