by Joe Vasicek
“You want something from me, don’t you?” She uncrossed her legs and leaned forward, her eyes fixated on him.
“Uh, yes, that’s right.”
“Is it something only I can give you?”
Jeremiah swallowed. From the intensity of her gaze, it seemed as if the question was some sort of test, with a right answer and a wrong answer. He glanced at Mariya, who seemed just as much at a loss as him, then turned back to Héloise.
“Yes,” he answered.
Her eyes narrowed, but her lips turned up at the edges, indicating that he’d passed. “Oh?” she said, a hint of playfulness in her voice. “And what is it you want?”
“Well, my request is a bit unusual,” he began. “And I apologize if it sounds a bit desperate. You see, my wife and I are about to leave the station, but—”
“You and your wife? You’re taking her with you?”
“Yes,” said Jeremiah, a little shaken. “We, ah, we can’t stay, because the changes that the Imperials have made are, well, making it impossible for either of us—or Mariya’s family, for that matter—to live here. The only trouble is, we want to stay together—with Mariya and her family, that is—but my ship is too small for all of us, and—”
“Where will you go?”
“We don’t know yet,” he admitted. “Back to the Outworlds, I suppose—wherever fortune takes us.”
Her eyes lit up at the word ‘fortune.’ She rose gracefully to her feet and wandered about the room, as if admiring the wall-screens with their gorgeous celestial views.
“So you want me to help you get a starship for your friends—your wife’s friends,” she said, her smart-skirt drawing his gaze to the curvature of her hips. “But if I had a starship, what makes you think that I’d stay here?”
“I-I don’t know,” said Jeremiah. “I’d assumed, since—”
“Do you always assume things about the women you meet?”
He tried to think of an answer, but none came to mind. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’m sorry.”
Héloise glanced at him out of the corner of her eye before turning back to the wall. She’s not going to help us, he thought to himself. From the uneasy look on Mariya’s face, she seemed to be thinking the same thing.
“I have a friend who might be able to help you,” Héloise said, breaking the uneasy silence. “Not with a starship, of course, but with passage out of the system—and possibly more.”
“You—you do?” said Jeremiah, his heart skipping a beat.
“He’s the captain of a colony expedition,” she explained. “He stopped accepting applications almost a month ago, but I might be able to convince him to sign on a few extras. How many of you are there?”
“Just three,” said Mariya. “My parents and myself.”
Héloise nodded. “It shouldn’t be too difficult.”
“Thank you so much,” said Jeremiah, rising to his feet. “I—”
“Not so fast,” she said, turning to him with one hand on her chin, the other arm folded across her chest. “You said you wanted something from me, but you never asked if there was anything I wanted from you.”
He glanced at Mariya, who eyed him uncertainly, then back to Héloise.
“What’s that?”
She walked slowly around him, her hips swinging seductively with each step. “I’m not a married woman,” she said in a sultry voice. “I have a lover, but he comes and goes, and I have to share him with half a dozen other women whom I’ll never meet. You, on the other hand, are totally devoted to your wife—so much so that you’d take her with you across the stars.” After making a full circle, she stopped and turned to face him. “That seems so … so fascinating.”
Jeremiah swallowed, and his knees went weak. She gave him a sly, mischievous grin, and he knew exactly what she wanted.
“No,” said Mariya, stepping quickly between them. “Jeremiah is—it’s not right to expect that from him. We don’t want—”
“This isn’t about what you want, dear,” said Héloise, lifting her nose in disdain. “It’s about what he wants—and how much he really wants it.”
She ran her hand down Jeremiah’s chest, ignoring Mariya’s objections. Jeremiah’s heartbeat quickened as she undid the buttons of his vest, tracing her fingers down to his waist.
“I don’t know about this,” he said, unsure whether to pull back. “It … wouldn’t be very faithful of me.”
“Faithful?” said Héloise, toying with him. “It’s only once. She never has to know.”
He looked into her eyes, and saw something more than just desire. Beneath the carefully cultivated veneer of boredom and contempt, she was jealous of him—or, more accurately, of Noemi.
“But—but we’re committed to each other,” he stammered. “She wouldn’t want me to do this.”
“Then tell me: how much do you really love her?”
She looked him in the eye, dominating him with her stance. He shifted uneasily and fidgeted with his hands, unsure how to answer. Anything less than the truth would be insufficient—but whether that would soften her heart or fuel her petty jealousy, he didn’t know.
“I’ve committed myself to her,” he said, deciding to risk an honest answer. “I’ve refitted my ship for the both of us and promised not to leave her. When we learned that she was pregnant, I took a shitty job and worked long hours just to support the both of us. Isn’t that love?”
“Perhaps,” said Héloise, “but is it passion?”
She stepped right up to him, so that their bodies almost touched. Out of the corner of his eye, Mariya cover her mouth, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock and horror.
“I love her,” said Jeremiah, his voice soft but firm. “Please, don’t ask me to betray her.”
Héloise stared at him for a moment, then turned and walked away. “I wouldn’t ask you to make love with me, of course,” she said, as if the thought bored her. “That would be … too banal. Besides, I doubt you’re as good a lover as Samson.”
“Yes,” Jeremiah said with relief. “I’m probably not.”
“However,” she said, turning sharply, “there is something else you can give me.”
A lump rose in his throat, making him swallow. “What is it?”
“It’s just a small favor—a very harmless one. Something not difficult at all.” She licked her lips and tilted her chin down, giving him a playful look. “I want you to give me a kiss.”
“A kiss?” shrieked Mariya. “But—but Noemi—”
“Just a kiss?” he asked. “That’s all?”
“Yes,” said Héloise. “But you must kiss me like you would kiss her.”
He frowned. “Kiss you how?”
She tossed her hair back and sighed. “It cannot be just an ordinary kiss—you must make me believe that when you leave this place, you would take me with you, just as you have chosen to take her. You must make me feel that I am her.”
Jeremiah bit his lip and took in a deep breath. Off to the side, Mariya shook her head.
“Don’t do it,” she said softly. “We can find another way.”
“It’s just a kiss,” he told her. “If it’s the only way to get us back to the Outworlds …”
Héloise put her hand on his arm, pulling him to her. She looked up at him with eager anticipation, her eyes lit with the frenzy of passion.
“All right,” he said, taking her by the waist. “Like you’re her.”
He closed his eyes and leaned forward, trying to picture Noemi in his mind. Their lips touched, and the bitter taste of cigarettes shattered that illusion—but Héloise's body melded so perfectly to his that it felt only natural to continue. He reached up and gently ran his fingers through her hair, thinking of the first time he’d seen Noemi, dressed in the yellow chemise with the bare shoulders. This is for her, he told himself, and opened his mouth ever so slightly to let her in. His breath stopped, and for several moments the pounding of his heart and the sensation of Héloise’s tongue against his own dro
wned out everything else around him. Time slowed, and if he tried very hard, he could almost imagine that it was Noemi—a Noemi with so much experience in love and pleasure that he felt inadequate beside her.
With great reluctance, Héloise pulled back and released him. He took a deep breath and let her go, opening his eyes and blinking deliriously. She drew a finger across his lips and grinned.
“There now, that wasn’t so bad. Was it?”
Jeremiah said nothing.
“Come with me,” she said, leading them out of the front room. Mariya gave him a look of shocked disbelief, but beneath that there was something else—something that he couldn’t quite read.
“It was only a kiss,” he whispered as they walked together, following Héloise’s shimmering smart-skirt. “If it means—”
“Shh,” said Mariya. “Talk later.” From the tone of her voice, he had no doubt that they would.
* * * * *
Jeremiah turned sideways in the aisle to let Mariya step past him to the window seat. The windows on the magnetic train extended all the way up the ceiling, though, so it made little difference where either of them sat. Like all the other passengers around them, he pulled down the large shoulder restraints and secured them over his body.
“Next stop: yellow sector,” came an automated female voice over the speakers. The windows around the other passengers tinted to display targeted advertisements for cybernetic enhancements and other specialty goods, but since he and Mariya weren’t on the grid, their window remained clear. He turned and stared out at the monotonous cityscape as it passed by them, curving upward as it followed the arc of the station wheel.
“That was … a strange visit,” he said aloud, trying to draw her out. She stared out the window, unwilling to meet his eyes.
“Yeah. I guess it was.”
“At least we have a way out of the system now. I hope your parents are willing to agree to it.”
“I think they will,” she said softly.
“Warning: entering low gravity zone,” said the automated voice. “Please remain in your seats and secure your shoulder restraints. Estimated time to station hub … fif-teen minutes.”
The train slowed to a crawl, then nosed up along an incline so that Jeremiah felt as if he were lying on his back. He gripped his shoulder restraints as the train picked up speed, taking off almost vertically from the carefully manicured cityscape of blue sector. Within seconds, they passed through the overhead dome, and then they were shooting through a tube along one of the gigantic spokes of the station.
“Do you think I shouldn’t have kissed her?” he asked, glancing at Mariya for any sign of a response.
She hesitated for a moment, staring out the window without meeting his eyes. “I don’t know,” she said. “It was—I don’t know.”
“It’s not like I was going to sleep with her,” he said, gripping his restraints a little tighter. “If it had come down to that, I would have said no.”
Mariya nodded, but said nothing. Outside the window, the swirling reddish-pink mass of Madrigalna loomed high overhead, disorienting him as the train reached cruising speed and the sensation of gravity rapidly faded.
“Are you going to tell Noemi about this?” he asked.
She didn’t answer right away. He wondered if he should ask again, but when he opened his mouth, she turned to face him.
“Do you want me to tell her?”
“No,” he admitted. “Please don’t. I—I don’t want her to take it the wrong way.” I did it for her, after all.
She bit her lip and nodded, as if he were asking her to be the custodian of some great secret. He looked away, and his eyes strayed to an advertisement for a dream monitor enhancement that claimed to give women a superior sexual experience. The ad made him shake his head and stare at the back of the seat in front of him.
“I won’t tell her,” Mariya whispered.
They said nothing else for the rest of the ride.
Chapter 10
“How is she?”
“Doing very well,” said Doctor Armin, looking up from his tablet. “She’s just starting the second trimester, and everything looks good. We should be able to tell the gender of the baby in a few weeks.”
Jeremiah held Noemi’s hand and squeezed. It’s a shame we can’t stay long enough to find out. On the examining table, Noemi glanced up and gave him a smile. Though it was hard to tell through the loose fabric of the patient’s gown, her belly was just starting to grow rounder.
“So there aren’t any problems?” he asked. “No complications that you’re expecting?”
“At the moment, no,” said the doctor, replacing the tablet in its socket on the room’s computer terminal. “It’s impossible to say for sure, of course, but her gene-scan looks fairly clean. If she eats healthy and takes good care of herself, I expect this pregnancy to progress quite well.”
Jeremiah nodded. I hope you’re right.
“In that case, there’s something you should probably know.”
“Oh?”
He glanced at Noemi, who squeezed his hand and nodded. He took a deep breath and turned back to the doctor.
“We won’t be staying at Oriana Station much longer. The economic situation has gotten too difficult for us, and we’ve both decided it would be better to move on.”
Doctor Armin frowned. “Move on? To where?”
“Our family friends are joining a colony expedition to the Zarmina system, about ten parsecs from here. We plan to make a few trade runs and meet them along the way.”
The doctor folded his arms, his expression serious. “Does your ship have adequate medical equipment to monitor the baby’s progress? Complications can quickly become serious if you aren’t seeing a doctor at least every three weeks.”
“I know,” said Jeremiah. “We’ll make the last stage of the voyage on board the colony ship—they have everything we need to take care of her. Is there anything else we should do in the meantime?”
“Are you asking for my advice? If you are, I’d strongly urge you to stay here at Oriana Station until at least six weeks after birth. Long-term spaceflight can have many detrimental effects on a pregnancy, including miscarriage. Even if there aren’t any serious complications, without frequent checkups with a trained medical professional, anything could go wrong.”
Noemi frowned, as if to ask what was the matter. As Doctor Armin translated for her, her lips pursed, and her muscles tensed. Jeremiah put his arm around her waist to comfort her, and was gratified when she shook her head and rejected the doctor’s advice. They’d had a long discussion with Mariya’s help before coming to the checkup, and she agreed with him completely.
“There’s no way around it,” he said. “I wish we could stay, but it’s just too difficult for us. Please understand—we have to go.”
Doctor Armin let out a long breath and shook his head. “I can’t force you to stay, of course. You have every right to make this decision on your own. But if you must go, then please at least get a medibot to monitor the pregnancy.”
But we can’t afford it right now.
“We’ll get one at the next port,” said Jeremiah. “Can we go for four weeks without one?”
The doctor sighed. “I suppose. But be sure to pack plenty of fruits and vegetables—synthetics alone just won’t cut it.”
“We will.”
“And keep the artificial gravity set to at least three quarters of a standard Earth-gee. Any less could retard fetal development.”
“Of course.”
Noemi leaned up against Jeremiah and put her arm around his shoulder. He gently helped her down off the examining table, keeping his hand on her waist. Her belly was already starting to bulge a little, though the change was only slight. In a few months, though, he had no doubt it would be much bigger.
“Thank you so much for your help,” he said. “We appreciate everything you’ve done for us.”
Doctor Armin smiled and nodded. “You’re very welcome. Good luc
k to you both, and to your child as well.”
“Thanks,” said Jeremiah, patting Noemi’s belly. He had a feeling that they were going to need it.
* * * * *
The Hope of Oriana wasn’t a pretty ship, but to Jeremiah she seemed magnificent all the same. At a little over two hundred meters long and pulling almost fifteen hundred astral tonnes before loading, she was just barely under Oriana Station’s limit for rim docking. If she’d been any larger, she would have had to dock with the Imperial battleships at the hub. Her hull was a dark brownish-gray, with a diamond-shaped cross-section that came to a blunt end at the bridge. The massive sublight engines at the rear were dwarfed by two half-dome reactors protruding from the ship’s mid-section. No doubt they helped to push back the center of mass, making the ship slightly more maneuverable than other freighters of her class. Rows of miniature portholes along the station-facing side offered a limited view of the interior: dozens of tiny bunk rooms, a shiny new mess hall, and a large rec room near the center.
Jeremiah stared down from the long, narrow windows lining the rim-side docking terminals. As the stars passed slowly outside, dozens of automated tug-bots ran supply containers to the open loading bay near the ship’s rear, while large tubes transferred water and fuel directly from the station. It wasn’t an Outworld ship, that was for sure—he wouldn’t be surprised if it used almost a thousand times more energy per jump than the Ariadne. Still, it was ships like this one that had brought his ancestors out across the starry frontier, founding settlements at forbidding alien worlds with no guarantee of even basic survival. They’d made a lot of progress since those early days, but he still couldn’t help but wonder what it would have been like to live back then, when the stars were barely mapped and each new world was full of unexplored mysteries.
“Quite a ship, eh?” said Captain Elijah, a stout old man with a snowy white beard and a face carved from granite. “She might not be much to look at, but by Sol, Earth, and Luna, you won’t find any more reliable.”