by Joe Vasicek
“Are you all right, dear? Your face is white—are you sure you don’t want to see the doctor?”
“No, I’ll be fine,” Mariya said softly, though that wasn’t how she felt. Her knees felt weak, her legs numb, and her hands could barely stop shaking. She did her best to swallow her fear, but without confronting its source, she knew she couldn’t keep up appearances much longer.
* * * * *
Noemi’s feet dangled over the edge of the examining table as the doctor peered through the data on the wall-screens opposite her. He tapped a keypad, and a grayscale image of her womb opened up on the wall, making her heart leap. The baby looked so small and precious, curled up with his tiny little hands near the budding features of his face and mouth.
“Isha’rah,” she whispered. The name had belonged to Jeremahra’s father, and would now belong to their son as well.
The doctor turned and spoke, looking at her directly. Only when he was finished did he nod to Mariya, who stepped forward to translate.
“He says everything looks good. The baby is coming along beautifully—no complications.”
Noemi smiled and turned to Doctor Andreson. “Thank you,” she said in her broken Gaian. He returned her smile and gave her a polite bow. He was a very precise, tidy man—even though he didn’t speak her language, she trusted from the way he carried himself that he was a dedicated professional, and that she would be safe in his care.
He took off his gloves and spoke again, this time to Mariya. She turned to translate.
“He says to come back in four standard weeks for another checkup, unless of course something comes up. He doesn’t think anything will, but if you notice anything unusual, don’t hesitate to contact him.”
“Of course,” said Noemi. She took Mariya’s hand and supported her stomach with her other as she slipped her feet back to the floor. Doctor Andreson put a hand on her shoulder and helped her stand up.
She paused at the wall screen and stared at the image of her womb. Mariya seemed anxious to go, but the doctor stopped and gave her space as he went about preparing the examining area for the next visit. Noemi stared long and hard at the baby, until everything else around her seemed to fade. Just a year ago, she’d fully expected to die childless and single—to think that a new life grew inside of her was simply mind-boggling.
“What’s his name going to be?” Mariya asked.
“Isha’rah.”
“Isha’rah—like the ancient prophet from Earth?”
Noemi nodded.
“It’s a good name. You must be looking forward to holding him in your arms.”
“Oh, yes,” said Noemi, patting her stomach. “Come on, let’s go.”
As they stepped out of the medical bay, Mariya hesitated as if she’d forgotten something. Noemi stopped and looked at her, but she didn’t turn back. Instead, she looked in both directions, then stopped and turned to face her.
“Have you got a moment, Noemi? We need to talk.”
“Sure,” said Noemi, frowning a little. What did Mariya want to talk about now? She seemed so tense, Noemi couldn’t help but feel a little worried.
It’s probably something to do with Jeremahra, she thought to herself. If it is, she’ll probably lead me down to the observation deck where we can have a little more privacy.
Sure enough, Mariya led them toward the mess hall and down the narrow steps.
“What is it?” Noemi asked. “Is something the matter?”
“No, not at all. That, is, I mean—well—”
“Does it have to do with Jeremahra?”
“Yes,” said Mariya, “but probably not like you’re thinking.”
“How so?”
For once, the observation deck was completely empty. They pulled down a couple of chairs near one of the fishbowl windows and sat facing outward. On B’tum down below, it was night, but a greenish-blue glow along the edge of the horizon promised an imminent sunrise.
“The last time you saw Jerem-ahra,” said Mariya, clasping her hands in her lap. “Was he … angry?”
Yes.
“A little,” said Noemi. “I mean, he seemed upset about something, but don’t worry—it’s not about you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” she lied. “It’s not really a big deal. I’m sure he’ll come around.”
Mariya nodded. “Right.”
What’s the best way to smooth this whole thing over? Noemi wondered. The last thing she wanted was to blow things up and make them worse than they already wore. Yes, Jeremahra still wasn’t keen on taking Mariya as a second wife, but he’d come around eventually—he had to. In any case, there wasn’t anything Mariya could do to help on that account. Better to let her think that everything was fine than to make her freak out and upset everything all over again.
“About the way I brought up this whole marriage thing,” said Mariya, her voice barely louder than a whisper. “I—it wasn’t right.”
Noemi frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I went about it the wrong way and made a mess of everything. I wish I could go back and do it differently, but I can’t, and I don’t know how to fix things without …” her voice trailed off, leaving the thought unfinished.
A chill ran down Noemi’s spine. They’d both made mistakes, certainly, but what was in the past was in the past. Better to let it go—though of course, there was no way of saying that without bringing it up all over again.
“What makes you say that?”
“I—I put too much pressure on you, without giving you any choice. You were never in a position to say no, and probably felt like I was trying to steal your husband from you.”
That’s true, Noemi thought silently. She took a deep breath and tried very hard to keep the memory of her pain from coming back.
“Well, I just wanted to say, if this isn’t what you want, I’m okay with that. We can still be friends, even if you don’t want to share your husband with me. I’ll still be there for you.”
Noemi’s legs went weak, and her hands began to shake. If Mariya had given her this option just a few days ago, she would have said ‘no’ in a heartbeat. But was that even the right thing to do now? Mariya had said she would be all right, but the expression on her face said otherwise. Her cheeks were pale, her lips quivering. It was clear that the thought of being single at a place like Zarmina filled her with a terrible fear. And why shouldn’t it? On the Outworld frontier, there was more danger and uncertainty than anyone deserved to face all alone.
God’s will.
“Are you sure?” Noemi asked. The words seemed to come from someone else, as if she were a spectator in her own body.
“About what?”
“That you’ll be all right if I say no.”
Mariya bit her lip, but nodded. “Yes,” she said softly. “Like you say, everything happens for a reason. I’ll be okay.”
For one brief moment, something inside of Noemi screamed at her to say no. The urge to go back to the way things were, when it was just her and Jeremahra alone in the depths of space, was almost overwhelming. But when she looked at Mariya, all she could see was herself—that hopeless young girl who knew with awful certainty that she would die single and alone. She might as well cut off an arm as refuse that girl a small chance to be happy.
“Thank you, Mariya,” she heard herself say. “It’s very brave of you to say that. But if everything happens for a reason, and this is God’s will, I—I can’t think of a better friend to have as a sister-wife.”
Mariya’s eyes widened, and her tears began to overflow. “D-do you mean that?”
Say no! Say no!
Noemi took a deep breath. “Yes, I do.”
This time, it was Mariya’s turn to throw her arms around her. She did so with so much energy that it took her completely by surprise. A moment later, they were laughing and crying and letting their emotions spill out all over. It was as much a release as the dying world in the simulator—more so, in fact. And unlike the s
imulator, there wasn’t nearly so much pain. Instead, there was the sweet, welcome peace of rejuvenation.
But inside, Noemi still felt as if a part of her had died.
* * * * *
“Where is Jeremiah?” Mariya’s father asked as she came off another training exercise. He was waiting for her on the observation deck, his arms folded impatiently.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I think he went down to the surface, but—”
“Planetside? When we’re less than forty-eight hours from leaving the system?”
Footsteps sounded through the overhead bulkheads from the mess hall, echoing in the small space of the observation deck. Apparently, a sizable crowd had gathered for first lunch—which meant that most of the passengers were already back from leave. Surely, Jeremiah had to be among them.
“I’ll find him, Dad,” said Mariya. “He left a while ago—he’s probably back by now.”
“Well, be sure to find him before we jump out. If he runs off, we’re going to be in big trouble.”
If he runs off? Mariya wondered as she climbed the narrow stairs. Why would he do that? Then she thought of how he’d left without warning in the first place, after their fight on the Ariadne. What if he was secretly planning something? Fear clutched her heart, and she ran a little faster.
She reached the top of the stairs and dashed through the crowded mess hall toward the control rooms. If Jeremiah had come in on the last ferry, he would be registered on one of the incoming passenger lists. Those weren’t generally accessible from the other computer terminals, but her password for communications would give her access to it. Probably.
The control rooms were empty, though many of the holoscreens were still active from the last training session. She found her chair and leaned down over it, not bothering to sit down. Her fingers flew across the keypad, and in just a few moments, she brought up exactly what she was looking for. She skimmed the roster until, sure enough, she found Jeremiah’s name near the bottom. He had come back on the latest ferry, just a few minutes ago.
“Well hello there,” Captain Elijah’s voice boomed behind her. Mariya jumped in fright—she’d been so intent on her work that she hadn’t heard him come.
“Oh, hi,” she said, quickly closing down the window and logging out. “How are you?”
“Very well, very well. Care to tell me what you’re up to?”
“Sorry—no time to explain!” she said, dashing off down the corridor. Captain Elijah frowned, but before he could respond, she was on her way.
I’ll have to apologize for running off later, she thought as she shouldered her way through the crowd at the mess hall. “Sorry!” she said as she nearly knocked over someone’s tray—why did they clog this place so much? Didn’t they know there was no other easy way through? She stopped only to scan the room for any sign of Jeremiah, but he didn’t seem to be there.
Maybe he’s with the doctor, she thought to herself. Noemi’s checkup had happened while he was gone, and he was always worrying about her, so it made sense that he’d be there.
He wasn’t, though. Doctor Andreson was at lunch—the only one in the medical bay was a young nurse. “Can I help you?” she asked.
“Sorry,” said Mariya, ducking back out into the main corridor. Little clusters of people milled about, but Jeremiah wasn’t among any of them. He wouldn’t be in the bunk rooms either, since they were occupied with the downshifters. She could try the bathroom, perhaps, but it wasn’t likely that he’d get on a re-entry shuttle without using the bathroom first.
The dream center, you idiot! If Noemi was there—and she usually was—then that was where he’d be.
She ran passed the bunk rooms and stopped just outside the dream center to catch her breath. This part of the ship was considerably less occupied, and for a moment she worried that he wouldn’t be there. Fortunately, he was.
“There you are,” she said, forcing an exasperated smile. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Where have you been?”
“Uh, nowhere,” he said, his eyes darting past her for a brief moment. “Why were you looking for me?”
“Because I heard you went down to the surface. Why?”
Mariya frowned—something was wrong. The way he gripped Noemi’s hand was too firm, as if he were about to drag her down the corridor with him. The shifty look in his eyes, his legs spread as if ready to run—it was all very odd.
“Oh, that,” he said. “Nothing really. Just meeting up with an old friend.”
He moved as if to walk past her, but Mariya’s father stepped into the room, cutting him off. His cheeks paled, and he stood as if rooted to the floor.
Something was definitely wrong.
“Jeremiah,” he said, folding his arms the way he did whenever he wanted to talk about something serious. “What’s this I hear about you leaving the colony mission without us?”
What?!
“Who—who told you—”
“Never mind that. I can guess what you’ve been up to, meeting with the captain and stealing away planetside. You haven’t given my daughter your answer yet, have you?”
Mariya’s stomach fell, and her legs went weak. Her father had assured her that Jeremiah would come around—she’d had no idea that he was thinking about leaving them. From the puzzled look on Noemi’s face, apparently she didn’t either.
“N-no, sir, I—”
“I expected more of you, Jeremiah, I really did. I never thought you would stoop to this—and right when your wife is expecting, too. Does she even know where you’re taking her?”
“It’s okay, father,” said Mariya, trying frantically to stop the fight. She put a hand on his arm. “Jeremiah’s a New Earther, so it’s only natural that he’d want to settle down here. And if that’s what he wants, we can go with him—can’t we?”
Please say that we can.
Jeremiah drew in a sharp breath, and her heart sank. “I’m sorry, Mariya. I can’t marry you.”
His words struck her like an unexpected blow from behind. It was as if the floor had fallen out beneath her. Fear seeped into her heart like a cold vacuum, leaving her empty and without breath.
“What do you mean?” she asked, laughing nervously. “I’m sure we can—”
“What I mean is, I won’t marry you. I don’t want there to be any hard feelings, and I wish you the best of luck, but Noemi and I are staying at B’tum, and we don’t want you to come with us.”
Silence fell over them all, like the terrible cold of the void. Mariya’s vision darkened, and she felt as if she were going to throw up. Everything was falling apart, just like it had at Alpha Oriana, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
“Well,” said her father, “I suppose this is where we say goodbye, then.”
“But—but—” Mariya stammered. Noemi put a hand on her arm, making her turn.
“What’s the matter?” she whispered in Deltan.
“What’s the matter? Jeremiah is leaving us behind, and he doesn’t want us to come with him. He’s taking you too, I’m sure, but he isn’t going with us to Zarmina—he’s staying here.”
Noemi’s eyes widened. “Staying here? But—”
“That’s enough,” said Jeremiah, stepping between them. “Goodbye, Mar—”
“No want go!” Noemi yelled in her broken Gaian. “No want—we stay, we stay!”
As she struggled free of his grip, Jeremiah gave her a puzzled look. “What? Noemi—”
“This is not what I want!” she shouted, switching back and forth from Deltan to Gaian in her frenzy. She threw her arms around Mariya and held tightly onto her. “I don’t want to go—no want go!”
Her reaction was so touching that Mariya broke into tears. Her father was shouting now, and Jeremiah’s cheeks were pale.
“No want, no want,” Noemi cried over and over. “We stay—we stay.”
Stay or go, it wouldn’t change the fact that everything was a terrible, horrible mess—and that Mariya was to blame for it all.
Chapter 16
The walk to the docking airlock felt like a death march. Even though Mariya knew that Jeremiah wasn’t leaving yet, she did not relish the thought of confronting him. At least Noemi would be there too—she wouldn’t have to face him alone.
How did it come to this? she wondered for the hundredth time as they stepped through the airlock and onto the Ariadne. Just a couple of days ago, they’d passed through these very doors for the first of what she’d hoped would be many language lessons. The whole time, had he been contemplating how best to leave her? It had seemed like such a fun and innocent get-together, but now, she didn’t know what to believe.
Jeremiah ushered them in, not meeting either of their eyes. He collapsed on the cabin chair facing away from the cockpit, as strained and exhausted as if he had a hundred pound weight hanging from his neck.
“All right—let’s talk.”
Noemi motioned for Mariya to take the other seat, but she shook her head. “No, thanks,” she said in Deltan. “You need it more than I do.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
“No, really—you take it. I’ll just sit on the floor.”
Noemi sighed and folded up the chair. “Well, I don’t want you to be the only one sitting on the floor. I’ll join you.”
“But—”
“No buts. Sit!”
When Jeremiah saw them sitting on the floor, he let out an aggravated sigh and came down to join them. Under lighter circumstances, Mariya would have laughed at the awkwardness of it all. Laughter was the furthest thing from any of them now, though.
She cleared her throat and straightened her back. “Right. So, Noemi doesn’t want to leave.”
“Why?” he asked—then, turning to Noemi, “ratom?” Why?