Final Book

by Peter W Prellwitz

  She finished putting up my hair and stood back. She had combed it out and braided it in the back. I'd like to tell you what kind of hairdo it was, I really would. But the fact is that I never had the time to pick up all the great knowledge that teens pick up; my life even under the most liberal criteria was unusual. I do know that I liked it.

  "That's great, Susie! How'd you learn to work with hair so well?" The excitement of the day had reversed itself again and was now lifting my emotions.

  "Shows what you know," she sniffed. "This isn't all that great. My own hair isn't as fine as yours, and neither were my sisters' But I attended all the same putclubs growing up that my girlfriends did, and you always pick up something." She lightly brushed the sides, accenting my cheekbones. "This'll work fine for you, especially with that gorgeous train you'll be wearing."

  "I can't believe the dress I'll be wearing, either!" My terror of only twenty minutes ago had vanished completely. "It's so beautiful, it almost hurts to look at it!"

  "Well, what had you expected to have on, silly? A dirty rag?"

  "To be honest, Susie, I'd planned on renting a tuxedo. Before Aaron, the only thinking I'd done about marriage had been back in the twenty-first century."

  Susie pulled out our makeup kit and began applying it. Neither of us used it much - we were dogs going into battle, not normal women going into town. That didn't mean we didn't like it, or knew how to use it. Susie was again better than me since she had the benefit of a contiguous life span and I did not. She picked up on my comment.

  "I hadn't thought of that. You know, Abby, it hasn't been that long since we Cued you--"

  "Just over three years," I broke in. She slapped the back of my head lightly.

  "Don't interrupt. It's only been three years, but so much has happened to you. To us. You've come a long way from the terrified fourteen-year-old girl to the lovely young woman who's getting married today."

  "Hey! Don't hit!" I complained cheerfully. "Tell me about it. All I've done for the past six weeks, since Aaron was enough of himself to propose again, is worry if I'm going too fast. Remember, in the culture I grew up in the first time, normal marrying age was around twenty-five. On top of that, Aaron and I haven't had what you'd call a normal courtship. One date the night the Third got taken out, and the three day-trips Jody gave us as an early wedding present.

  "Yet we've worked and fought together for two years. I've relied on him to save my butt two dozen times, and I've saved his, too." I giggled. "Now I know what I was saving it for."

  "Abigail! I'd never expected to hear that from you!" Susie sounded shocked, but laughed. "Although he does have a nice butt. Great shoulders, too."

  "They're to die for," I agreed, sighing. "When he wraps me up, I feel like the whole world is shut out and nothing can harm me. And his kisses are always warm and soft, except when they're hot and ..."

  "Settle down, kid. I don't need the details, much as I'd like to hear them." Her next comment was the one she really wanted to make, though.

  "Umm ... there is one thing I wanted to talk about as far as ... that."

  "What?" I sensed her sudden discomfort.

  "You know. About Aaron and you. I mean, tonight." I suddenly knew exactly what she was talking about and tried to keep a straight face.

  "What about tonight, Susie?" I asked innocently. "You mean, at the reception? I'm not worried. I'm sure--ow! Not so hard!" She had been filing and finishing my nails and had lost her concentration.

  "Oops. Sorry." She eased off on the pressure. "I didn't mean the reception. I meant ... later. You know, after you've gotten to your little bungalow in Arizona."

  "I don't understand," I said densely, squeezing the moment for all I could. "What about it? The area is very pro-Resistance, and we have all that we need for the three days we'll be there. And you can always call us if there's an--"

  "No! Nothing like that. I wanted to talk about something a little more personal. About what happens tonight. Once you get ... you know ..." She saw my gently shaking shoulders and clamped lips, small tears in my eyes.

  "You jerk! You know exactly what I'm talking about!" She tried to look angry, but did a poor job. I started laughing out loud and she joined me. "Okay, it's funny. I never thought it would be this hard, though."

  "What?" I asked, wiping a tear. "You mean talking about sex? Why is it so hard, Susie? Of course I've been thinking about tonight."

  "And what have you been thinking about it?"

  "I'm thinking that I'm more excited about making love to Aaron than anything other than the wedding. I waited for marriage before having sex, and now my husband and I can share the reward of my patience. And his."

  She nodded, understanding and agreeing. "My feeling exactly. But what I'm talking about is not so much the when as much as the how. If you have any, you know, questions about, well ..." She started to hem and haw again.

  "What do you mean, Susie?" I asked with wide eyes, then laughed. "Susie, you're so good to me! I love you, lady. This can't be easy for you."

  "It's not," she said frankly.

  "I can guess. I hope I don't have the same difficulty when it's time to talk about sex to my daughters. Thanks for caring and trying. I'm sure Aaron and I can figure it all out. And if we're not perfect the first time," I added mischievously, "I suppose it will be a case of try and try again."

  She gasped, then laughed. "How you can be so sweet and innocent one moment then such a tart the next is what makes you so much fun."

  The bathroom door opened and Sarah walked in. Of all the prisoners, Sarah and Aaron had best weathered the humiliations and deprivations of being under constant mind control. After the effects of the suppression field had worn off under Doctor Barrett's care, both took the very pragmatic attitude that what had happened to them, what had been done to them, was outside their real lives. Each had therefore mentally written off those months and distanced themselves from the ordeal. That others didn't follow the same path bespoke of the difficulty of doing so. I had firsthand experience with that myself. I had struggled to put my rape of nine months ago behind me in the same way. And it was why my wedding dress was pure white and why I would wear it today without the slightest twinge of guilt. In a way, it had all worked out to our benefit, for Aaron now completely understood.

  For the first time since I'd known her, Sarah didn't look like she needed a cigar. A big, strong woman built on a good-sized frame, she was made for front line duty. Yet she had always maintained a subdued air of femininity that complemented her forward nature and tomboyish looks.

  That air of femininity wasn't subdued now. In her bridesmaid dress, she ran the risk of looking more beautiful than the bride. Not too difficult in my case, but still a breach of etiquette. She moved with ease and grace, as comfortable in her elegant pumps as in combat boots. She was the perfect image of a refined, cultured young woman, the very cream of high society.

  "Hey, anchor girl! What's the hold-up? Too busy thinking about getting laid tonight by your other wingman?" Okay, maybe not a perfect image.

  I didn't need the mirror to see my face flush from my neck to the roots of my hair. Sarah had always been able to throw me off. Though the moment was always uncomfortable, I loved her open and honest friendship.

  "Sarah!" Susie scolded her. "You walk in here and make rude remarks like that, and I'll never get her color right!"

  Sarah grinned and pulled up a second stool. She looked me up and down.

  "Nice, Abby! Can't make too many attack moves and still keep the hair up like that, but you look just swell for today's mission." She smiled at me and leaned close. "How 'bout tonight's mission? You ready for that?"

  "More than you'd think, Sarah." I was back on balance, and always looking for a way to give payback. "Don't forget, I used to be a pleasure ripe. She left me a lot of knowledge. I can do things that would make your head spin." At her blush, I had my payback. "Rather, Aaron's head. For instance, when you rub--"

  "Knock it off! Both of you
! You sound like a couple of tramps! This is a blessed event, not a license to talk trash. Now stop moving, Abigail, or I'll just slap some combat camouflage on you and call you done."

  Sarah and I laughed, but I sat still. I didn't have to wait long.

  Susie finished with a small sweep on my eyelashes and nodded approvingly. She stepped out of the way so I could I look into the mirror. I almost didn't recognize myself. Somehow she'd made me beautiful. Very beautiful.

  "That's incredible, Susie! How'd you do so much with so little?"

  "Don't underrate yourself, Abby. You're a very pretty woman. A real ... ummm ... fox?" She frowned. "Is that right?"

  "The term is right. I don't know if I'd apply it to me. I've always thought of myself as being, you know, a plain Jane."

  "'Plain Jane'? I hadn't heard that one before. If you mean just so-so in looks, though, you're way off. Back when you were all arms and legs, Kerry - remember her? - had said you'd be a stunner, and she was right."

  "I suppose."

  "I know. Now let's get finished up. We have to get back to our room and get you dressed. Your pastor will want to give you some final instructions and encouragement, no doubt. Sarah, will you clear the halls so our bride isn't bothered?"

  ***

  The corridor was a level eighty meters long, but it felt at least eighty kilometers long and uphill to boot. My veil was paper thin but still managed to cut off all the air. On top of all that, my heart could probably be heard across the entire hanger, which I was about to enter. Sarah and Jody had reached the makeshift altar, and Susie, my maid of honor, was halfway down the aisle. Doctor Barrett took my elbow and whispered into my ear.

  "I've never seen such a beautiful woman, Abigail." For a moment I thought he was talking about Susie, then realized he meant me. "It is an honor to give you into marriage to Aaron."

  "It's your right, Philip. After all, you're the one who brought me into this world, making today possible. There's a war waiting outside for us when we get back, but it's because of you that we can have at least these few days of happiness. I cannot thank you enough, but I can try."

  "You are entirely welcome, dear. Shhh. It's time."

  The wedding march started and the crowd arose, turning toward me. At Philip's gentle guidance at my elbow, I started down the aisle, concentrating on my stepping to avoid passing out.

  The corridor had been eighty kilometers long, the aisle was eighty centimeters. I vaguely remember the walk, even though I wanted to remember it all. It is more an overwhelming weight of emotion than memories that remain with me.

  I came to the front of the aisle and saw Aaron standing there, looking at me with a confident smile, his eyes moist with love for me. He was incredibly handsome in his dress uniform. Beside him stood Raul, his best man, resplendent in his lieutenant's uniform, the left sleeve folded neatly up.

  The rest of the ceremony is all a blur. I so dearly wanted to remember every moment, to lock away forever the sights, sounds and feelings of the day. The truth is, I was far too dazed and happy to even begin to keep a coherent record of it. It was all stored into the memory pools, of course, but nothing can ever or will ever recreate the aura and excitement of the day. I stood by Aaron's side in front of the pastor, completely weightless and almost giddy with joy. The bouquet in my hands was nearly crushed underneath the flowers, I was squeezing them so tight to keep my hands still. A pleasant buzzing in my ears was quiet enough to hear the sermon and the hymns, but was distracting enough not to let me remember any of it. It was only during the vows that I came out of my fog.

  "Do you, Aaron Marks, take this woman, Abigail Wyeth, to be your wife? Will you love her, guide her, and counsel her as Christ loves, guides, and counsels his Church? Will you promise to be faithful to her, cherish her, support her, and stay with her, in sickness and in health, as long as you both shall live?"

  "I do," Aaron said with a firm voice, looking into my eyes.

  "And do you, Abigail Wyeth, take Aaron Marks to be your husband? Will you love him, follow him, and submit to him as the Church loves, follows, and submits to Christ? Will you promise to be faithful to him, cherish him, support him, and stay with him, in sickness and in health, as long as you both shall live?"

  "I do," I promised, speaking from my very soul.

  "Then, before these witnesses and God, and by the authority vested in me as a called servant of the Lord, I declare you to be husband and wife. In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. What God has joined together, let no one separate. You may kiss the bride."

  Aaron reached up with trembling hands and lifted my veil. He leaned down and gently kissed me on the lips. His strength seemed to flow into me, bringing me out of my thrall. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back. The pastor had to gently clear his throat to remind us we were still in a ceremony. I stepped back a little, smiling. Aaron took my hand and turned us toward the congregation. I heard the pastor's voice behind us.

  "It is my honor to present to you Mr. and Mrs. Aaron Marks."

  I don't know what was louder, the cheering and applause of our friends as they came to their feet or the roaring in my ears. I didn't care. I was with my husband.

  Interlogue Three

  Aaron pulled the hov under the pines beside our small bungalow and settled it onto the small, packed-earth pad. I went through power down procedures while Aaron opened up our little cottage and carried the luggage inside. I finished the power down and reached above my head to toggle the puter switchover to the house If the call came through that terminated our seventy-two hour ...

  A big hand clamped over mine and gently pulled it down.

  "I really don't think we want to be interrupted, do we?" he said softly in my ear. I thought it over for a long time, perhaps as much as a half-second, then smiled.

  "No, I don't suppose we do." I activated the external alarm instead. If they really, really wanted us, they'd have to ... I switched it off again. Let them come get us if they were that desperate. Aaron chuckled, his breath softly brushing my hair, sending a tingle through me.

  "Good girl."

  I smiled at him. "Good girl? What am I, your little plaything now?"

  He laughed quietly. "Maybe."

  "That's why you married me?" I accused him. "Just so you could jump my bones?"

  He looked startled. "Jump your bones? What a strange phrase."

  I giggled. "It is, isn't it? Let me rephrase that. Ummm ... you married me just so you could ..." I whispered in his ear while I ran my hand through his thick shock of black hair, and he feigned righteous indignation.

  "Abigail! That's not it at all!" He grabbed me and brought me up against him. He ran his fingers through my hair, then pulled back firmly, lifting my face to his. He kissed me deeply, first on the mouth, then along my cheek to my ear.

  "Rather, that's not all of it. I married you so I could hold you and keep you safe. I married you because I love you, sweet, sweet Abigail, and I want to be with you forever."

  My heart was tripping all over itself, making a general mess of my insides while threatening to explode. I looked into his eyes, and lost myself in their bottomless darkness.

  "I--I--I ..." I couldn't think straight. I couldn't think. He put two fingers on my lips.

  "Shhh. Don't say anything, love."

  He picked me up in his powerful arms and carried me to the bungalow. He nudged the door open with his foot and carried me across the threshold, then set me down. It was a small place, only a great room and a bathroom. There was a small kitchen area in one corner. A large king sized bed was against one wall, an equally large fireplace against the opposite wall. Rustic furniture was scattered about.

  "I know this doesn't really count," he apologized. "This isn't our home. But it's the best we'll be able to do for now."

  "I love it!" I insisted. "And it does too count."

  "I love you, Abigail."

  "And I love you, Aaron." He pulled me to him and I felt falling into h
is strong, warm, and loving arms.

  ***

  I was the first one awake that evening. Aaron had piloted the hov the entire distance, letting me sleep. Although I was seventeen now, phasing still affected me, draining my energy and leaving me exhausted. It was only our passion when we arrived that kept me awake. Still, I bounced back fairly quick and was now ready for my first evening with Aaron.

  I looked at his face, quiet and still as he slept. Seeing him completely relaxed now, I must admit to a certain temptation to ... I smiled in the fading light of late evening and eased out of bed, letting him sleep. It was very chilly, so I opened up the comforter at the foot of our bed and spread it over him. He stirred, but stayed asleep.

  I padded on bare feet to the front door. Located literally on a mountainside, Jerome, Arizona, had been a mining town nearly a thousand years ago. The mines played out in the twentieth century and it had become a ghost town. Later it became a popular spot for artists and tourists. In the twenty-fourth century, it had a brief resurgence when Phoenix boomed to over three million during the Terran/Martian Wars, but once the fourth war ended, Jerome settled back down to a handful of people and a quiet existence. Today, it was much the same as it had been for most of its thousand year life: a lovely little town that had no real reason but simply was.

  Aaron had left the door slightly open when he carried me in, so the chilly night air was wafting in, straining the heating system. I activated the temperature shell, then lingered at the open door, staring out over the stunning valley. How I loved this country!

  I finally closed the door and walked back to the bed. I dug around my luggage for my robe to pull on over my admittedly skimpy sleeping clothes.