by Rinelle Grey
“Marlee, what’s going on?” Her mother caught up to her. “You should have come to me first, before talking to the council.”
“You wouldn’t have listened to me.” Her mother always dismissed her concerns, told her not to rock the boat and to do what she was told.
She was tired of doing what she was told.
Kalim cleared his throat, and her mother stepped back, frowning. “Marlee, what did you wish to speak to us about?”
Marlee took a deep breath. “I’m not going to leave Tyris.”
There was a long silence.
“You and Tyris still have twelve months before that is even an issue, why are you bringing it up now?” Nerris asked.
“It’s not going to matter how long we have,” Marlee said, “Tyris can’t have children.”
This silence lasted even longer. The council exchanged glances. Frowning, worried, concerned glances.
Had she made a mistake? Had she just cut their time together from twelve months to nothing?
“That does change things,” Kalim said finally. “Where’s Tyris? I’d like to hear from him why he’s deceived us for this long.”
“I told you he was trouble, right from the start,” Weiss said, a smug smile on his face. “He only cares about himself.”
“And why should he?” Marlee demanded. “He isn’t here by choice, he never agreed to the rules you set. In fact, there is a whole generation of us who didn’t agree to those rules. When do we get to have our say?”
The council exchanged glances again. It was left to Kalim to talk. “Marlee, the decisions we made weren’t for our benefit but for yours.”
“Then we should have a say in them.” Marlee tilted her chin up.
Weiss laughed. “What, you think we should let every little hormone riddled teenager decide how the community is run? Fat chance.”
Marlee felt her face burn, but she didn’t back down. “We’re not children. We’re perfectly capable of making rational decisions. Just because we don’t agree with the choices you made doesn’t make us stupid.”
“Are you saying that there are more people who feel this way?” her mother asked.
Marlee paused. Tyris thought others would back him up in his need to leave the planet. Recalling her conversations with Jaimma and Nelor, she was pretty sure she wasn’t the only one feeling this way. “Of course there are. You tell everyone what to do and who they can and can’t be with. How are we supposed to feel? I may be the only one speaking out, but I don’t think I’m alone in my opinion.”
Kalim sighed. “What do you think will happen, Marlee, if we remove the rules? We have so few children as it is. You must see why this is necessary?”
Eleven children in ten years. Yes, the numbers were telling. But…
“It’s not working,” she said. “All your rules and scheming and controlling everyone’s lives. It’s still not enough. Our numbers are still getting smaller and smaller.”
She saw the recognition in their eyes. They knew, even without her saying it. For some reason, that made her inexplicably angry. “You know. You know it isn’t working, yet still you persist with forcing everyone into situations they hate. Well, I won’t do it anymore. I’m staying with Tyris even if we have to live in the Hylista and grow our own food.”
She turned to storm out the door before tears caught up to her and ruined her declaration.
There, standing in the doorway watching her, was Tyris.
*****
TYRIS HAD STUMBLED OUT OF Marlee’s house, not sure where he was going, until his gaze fell on the huge bulk of the Tenacity, always present on the skyline, now joined by a smaller shadow. The Hylista! What better place to hole up until he felt able to cope with all of this.
He keyed the sequence he’d set up before he left. The door slid open, and he stepped gratefully inside. Here was his own space. Old, familiar, safe.
What he wasn’t ready for was the fact that it was now filled with memories of Marlee. He sighed and sank onto the bunk. They’d snuggled here just days ago, choosing to sleep in the same narrow bunk rather than in separate beds. Where had things gone wrong?
He knew Marlee’s question this morning spoke of how much she had come to care for him, that she was willing to risk everything for that one chance, however small. This could be their perfect life.
That thought surprised him. How had this come to be a perfect life? Stuck on some planet miles from everything he knew and every creature comfort? What was perfect about that?
Marlee.
The rest of it didn’t matter. Here or on Urslat the only thing that would make it perfect was her presence. Apparently, somewhere along the way, while he wasn’t looking, he had fallen in love with her. Why hadn’t he seen it sooner?
Instead, he’d pushed her away. He winced, remembering the pain and confusion in her voice when she had told him she wanted to be with him. He hadn’t seen the truth in her eyes. He’d judged her by the standards set by the women he’d known on Urslat. But Marlee wasn’t like that. She deserved better.
He stood, his mind made up. Feeling better than he had in days, he looked around then frowned. Dawn had been breaking when he’d arrived, yet it was still dark.
He hit the button and the door slid open. He glanced towards the sun to gauge the time more accurately, but his view was completely obscured. The whole area was in the shadow of the big ship towering above him. The Tenacity was so big it could easily engulf his whole ship…
His whole ship!
Goodness. The idea was so simple he didn’t know why it hadn’t occurred to him before. Not even pausing, he headed down the stairs, leaving the auto sequence to close the door behind him as he ran back to the village.
When he arrived, everyone milled around the hall, looking uncertain.
His eyes scanned the crowd. “Where’s Marlee?”
“She’s requested a meeting with the council,” Beren said, curiosity in his eyes.
What was she doing? Hopefully not anything rash. He stepped forward.
“The council won’t like being interrupted,” Beren warned him.
Tyris nodded and pushed his way into the council chambers anyway, closing the door on all the villagers trying to peer in behind him.
He was just in time to hear the end of Marlee’s speech. “I’m staying with Tyris, even if we have to live in his spaceship and grow our own food.” Fire mixed with tears in her eyes. She’d never looked so beautiful. Her impassioned words dissolved the last of his doubts.
The only thing he wanted was to spend the rest of his life beside her. Be it together on the Hylista, ignoring the village, or raising a family (if they were lucky) and working beside her within the village rules.
Or…
“And what do you have to say to all this, young man?” Kalim demanded. “Marlee seems willing to give up the security of our community for you. Are you going to let her take that risk? Are you willing to do the same?”
They hoped he’d talk some sense into her. He could see it in their eyes. “I’m with Marlee, whatever she wants,” he said firmly. “I love her, and I’m willing to give up whatever I need to in order to be with her.”
He stepped forwards and took her hands. “Whatever I need to,” he repeated softly.
Tears rolled down her cheeks. He reached forwards to wipe one away with his thumb. “I love you, Marlee,” he said to her. “If you want to try for a baby, I do too. And if you want to live in my ship, that’s fine by met.” He hesitated over offering the last choice, but he couldn’t withhold the possibility from her. “And if you want to leave here, I think I can do that too.”
She smiled shyly at him. “I love you, too.”
“What are you talking about?” Weiss demanded. “You said you tried everything you could, and you failed. The Hylista can’t break orbit.”
“I know what to do now,” Tyris looked over Marlee’s eyes to Nerris’s. “That is, if you’re willing to honour what you said about helping me?”
The other council members stared at Nerris. It was plain they hadn’t been involved in his offer. Maybe he’d made it in the belief that Tyris would never achieve it. Either way, he hoped Nerris would honour his promise.
Nerris stared at the other council members then back to Tyris. “Just what do you have in mind?” he asked.
Tyris looked down at Marlee. He pulled her into his arms. “It depends on what Marlee wants. Do we stay here, or go to Urslat?”
She’d wanted to come with him a few days ago. Would she still? He was surprised to find he was calm. He would be happy with whatever choice she made. So long as she was with him.
There was silence in the room around them as the whole council waited to hear her decision.
“I want to go to Urslat,” she announced. She smiled at him. “It doesn’t matter where we are, so long as we’re together. And I want to meet your family and see your world.”
Tyris returned her smile, looking deep into her eyes. Her words sent a swirl of anticipation right down to his toes. He would have been satisfied with any answer, but he couldn’t help but be glad he would get to see his home again.
As long as he could convince the council. “Nerris, I need to borrow your spaceship.”
Nerris frowned. “You can’t take it apart, I told you that.”
Tyris grinned. “I don’t need to.”
Nerris folded his arms. “I hope you’re not thinking of putting your engine in the Tenacity, because it just wouldn’t work. The size difference is too great. It would never have enough power to make it all the way to the Colonies.”
“I don’t need to get all the way to the Colonies. I just need help to get up into orbit. The Hylista can make it the rest of the way!”
The council still looked bewildered, but understanding dawned on Nerris’s face. “Use her like a launch pad. That might just work!”
“It will work,” Tyris asserted. “I’m sure of it.”
“You can’t expect us to stand by Nerris’s word that he would help you,” Kalim began, “we need to discuss this before any decision can be made.”
“You old fool,” Weiss snarled. “This is our one chance. If we can get off this planet and claim this anysogen find, we’ll all be rich! If Nerris thinks it will work, we can’t turn down this opportunity.”
Tyris hadn’t thought about the anysogen as anything other than a way to get home in months. And he only cared about it now if it could sway the council’s decision.
“It’s not that simple, Weiss,” Yasmyn snapped. “We can’t go back, you know that.”
“You might think you can’t go back, but I don’t have anything against the Colonies,” Weiss said. “I don’t care that you believe in a stupid conspiracy theory.”
“Enough!” Kalim barked. Everyone stopped talking and looked at him. He stared at them all impassively, then sighed. “Yasmyn, what do you think? You were the one affected most, and your daughter is the one who wants to leave.”
Marlee stiffened in his arms, and twisted to stare at her mother. “What are they talking about? Everyone was affected the same way, weren’t they?”
Yasmyn stared at her daughter. She bit her lip, then sighed. “I’m sorry, Marlee, I should have told you long ago, but it always hurt too much to talk about. I thought it would get easier with time, but it never did.”
“What?” Marlee pulled a little away from Tyris, staring at her mother. Her eyebrows pulled down.
Yasmyn took a deep breath. She opened her mouth to speak, but her voice broke on the words. She waved a hand at Nerris.
He glanced at her, sympathy etched on his face. “Everyone on Semala knew about the meteor showers,” he explained. “I had a small telescope in the backyard. I thought I could teach Nelor a bit about astronomy, just playing around really. But what we saw were more than just little asteroids. One was much bigger than I expected. I had a friend who was an astronomer. I figured if anyone would know anything, he would.”
“Daddy?” Marlee’s voice wavered. She was white as a sheet. “He knew about this?”
“No!” Yasmyn interjected.
Nerris shook his head. “No, Glesin had no idea. He’d been told to study sun spots, I guess to keep him from paying attention to the meteors. As soon as I told him, he contacted the governor, trying to warn him.”
Tyris winced. He could guess what was coming next. He hoped he was wrong.
“What happened?” Marlee asked sharply.
“He had an accident on his way home from work that night,” Nerris said, his voice heavy with emotion.
Yasmyn hid her face in her hands.
No one said anything, Marlee looked shell shocked.
“But you don’t think it was an accident?” Tyris asked softly.
Nerris shook his head. “It was too much of a coincidence. Too convenient for the Colonies. They had to have been involved,” he said regretfully.
“How did you escape the same fate?” Tyris asked.
“They didn’t know I was there when Glesin made the discovery. I was lucky,” Nerris said soberly.
Tyris shook his head, almost unable to believe the fantastical tale. Would the Colonies really stoop so low? Yet, there was a strange ring of truth to the story. A lone politician, far from home and country, facing the destruction of the entire planet. There would have been nothing he could have done to save them. Yet…
“Most of us find it difficult to ever trust the Colonies again. It was bad enough that they left without warning, and that they took people away from their families. But the idea that they would stoop to murder to cover it up? Most of us agree that we don’t want to be part of a society that condones that,” Nerris said. “If it weren’t for the fact that this planet is so polluted, we’d be happy to stay here permanently and have nothing to do with the Colonies ever again.”
Tyris looked at Marlee. Would this change her choice? “What do you want to do?”
Marlee looked at her mother, uncertain, then crossed the room and put her arms around her. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?” she asked softly. “It would have explained so much.”
There was a long pause, and Tyris thought for a moment that Yasmyn was going to reject her daughter as he suspected she had done subtly over the years. But then she put her arms around Marlee, pulled her close, and began to cry.
Tyris felt a twinge of admiration for the woman. She’d been pregnant when she left Semala, her husband murdered, and yet she had chosen to take a new partner, put up with his crude behaviour, and raise three more children. She was as hard as nails. It was no wonder she didn’t understand Marlee’s sensitivity.
“I… I couldn’t. If I thought about Glesin, about how much it had hurt… it was too hard. So I shut it away,” Yasmyn said, her voice muffled. “I couldn’t bring your father back. I just had to work with what I had.”
Or maybe she did understand it all too well. He could see Marlee, faced with such a tragedy, withdrawing and refusing to feel again as well. Yasmyn had tried to protect herself from the pain, and in the process, had kept her daughter at arm's length. Would sharing the past with her daughter help her open up, and let them reconnect?
Mother and daughter hugged, rocking back and forth in a long overdue reconnection. Tyris waited patiently, knowing they both needed this moment.
But Weiss couldn’t wait. “You’re not going to let mistakes from that many years ago keep all of us stuck on this hole of a planet are you?”
Both Marlee and Yasmyn turned to glare at him simultaneously. Tyris bit back a laugh.
“Shut up, Weiss,” Yasmyn said succinctly. Then she turned to her daughter. “What do you want to do, Marlee?”
Would this news sway her towards staying? He couldn’t blame her if it did.
Marlee looked at the other council members then at the closed door behind which most of the villagers were no doubt wondering what was going on. “We can’t stay here,” she said to her mother before she looked around to include the rest of the council. “We’re
dying here. Everyone deserves the chance to leave if they want to. I can’t make the decision for anyone but me.”
“And what do you choose, Marlee?” her mother asked.
Marlee looked at Tyris. She hugged her mother fiercely one last time then crossed the room to take his hand. “I’m going home with Tyris.”
He looked down at her, searching her face. “Are you sure? This is quite a shock. I’ll totally understand if you don’t want anything to do with the Colonies either. I’m going to be with you whatever you choose, so don’t make the decision for me.”
Marlee looked back at him seriously. “I’m not. What is there here for me? Even if we stay together, even if we get terribly lucky and have a baby, what sort of life is there here for a child? Growing up with only a dozen other people they might be able to love? Facing the possibility of never having their own children? What sort of a life is that? The Colonies might have done some terrible things, but even so, there’s more possibility there than there is here.”
Tyris nodded, his expression serious. Then he looked to Nerris and the rest of the council. “Are you going to work with us, or do we take this to the rest of the village and see what their choice is?”
“You wouldn’t,” Kalim’s eyebrows arched down. “You’d risk splitting the village, possibly putting everyone’s lives at risk, just because you don’t like the rules here?”
“No. If this only affected me, I’d happily keep it quiet. But everyone deserves the chance to have their say on this. To decide for themselves if getting off this planet is worth the small risk that this plan won’t work. And this time, the risk is small, isn’t it, Nerris?” He turned to the engineer, one eyebrow raised.
Nerris frowned. He looked at Kalim, then at Yasmyn, and sighed. “The odds of success are high this time. The only risk is if the Tenacity fails to break orbit itself or develops a malfunction, and in that case, it wasn’t going to save us when we needed it anyway.”
The council’s faces were grim. Kalim looked at Yasmyn. “What do you say?”
Yasmyn looked at her daughter. Tyris held her breath. Then she nodded. “It’s time. This decision is too big and far reaching for us to make it without consulting everyone.”