Forum: Official Announcements - Marriage
Updated: 20:05 10-Jan-Y33

Type: Public
Bride: Silberstein, Hester Myriam - AF0508-0003
Groom: Verdeschi, Salvatore Mentor - DM0312-0001
Wedding Date: 10-Mar-Y33
Venue: Dover Temple and The White Cliffs public house

"So, it's official now," said Salvatore, showing Hester the announcement on his slate. "We're getting married!"

Hester returned his grin with one of her own. They were lying in bed in their little flat at Desarak, music playing in the background as they enjoyed a quiet celebration of their engagement. Hester had only recently returned with her mother from a visit to Alpha for New Year, but the couple had already been talking about marriage for some time. Jenna and Maya had been duly consulted and both agreed -- albeit equally reluctantly -- that Hester and Salvatore were right to marry.

"You don't think we're rushing into anything, do you?" continued Salvatore with a frown. "I mean, our parents all got married later."

"That's true," admitted Hester. "My mother certainly seems to think we're rushing things. But then I don't believe she'll ever think I'm old enough."

"She's not too keen on me, either."

"Well, she's getting used to you. I think our parents waited so long to get married because they weren't originally planning to have children and they just didn't feel like it. They didn't have to. Neither do we, of course. But we've been over this and I think it's a nice idea to have some kind of celebration to tell everyone that we love each other. It's..." She paused and then smiled, "...probably a woman thing. You know, an instinctive need to set up a permanent nest to have children in or something. Or maybe I'm just too lazy to date again now I've found you. I've decided to just make do with what I've got."

Salvatore chuckled and put the slate away on the bedside table. "Oh, I love it when you get all cynical on me!" He turned back to her and leaned up on one elbow. "Okay, so how long do you think our marriage will last?"

"Hmm. Three years?"

"O ye of little faith," he laughed. "I think we'll stick to the 'until death us do part' bit until things really start falling to pieces. Besides, we might have children to think of by then."

"That's true," agreed Hester. "I think I could probably put up with you a few more years if I had to. Maybe twenty or thirty years."

"You've got a deal," said Salvatore with mock seriousness.

Hester laughed. She had no doubt that their marriage would last. They weren't children, teenagers playing at being grown up like most of the older members of their generation. Hester was twenty-four and Salvatore nearly twenty-one. They were young by the standards of their parents, but 'mature' by the standards of their own society. They had been living together long enough for any kinks in their respective personalities to appear. Hester had seen Salvatore angry enough to swear and sad enough to cry. She felt confident that she had seen all the facets of his personality and would get no nasty surprises after they were married. In fact, marriage would change little except to mark their existing relationship as something they were both committed to on a permanent basis. On the other hand, things would change drastically if they decided to have children.

"You know we were talking about having children," she said. "Do you think... When do you think we should think about that?"

"Later," was his answer. He paused and then added, "Let me guess. You're feeling broody."

"No!" protested Hester. "Not at all. I've got another good ten years before my biological clock starts making any noises. But we might have to ask Halima to do some tests..."

Predictably, Salvatore's expression immediately darkened. Hester was already aware of his allergy to any suggestion of tests, and wished she had chosen a more judicious word.

"Maybe we can just leave things to nature for a while and then start worrying if nothing's happened by the time your clock starts ticking," he suggested. "Chances are that I'm sterile and the medics will have to dredge up my father's contribution to the gene bank anyway. So we can deal with that later if we have to." He shrugged.

Hester had to agree that there was no great hurry. "Maybe I can just come off the pill and see what happens," she said. "We're already on the list for a two bedroom apartment, so once we're living there, it won't be a problem to accommodate a child. Even if we get a surprise."

"Except I was hoping to use the extra bedroom as a studio," Salvatore reminded her. They had already discussed what they wanted to do with their larger apartment once they got it.

"Well... we could apply for a 3B, but then we'd really have to have a child. I don't want to put us on a list when we don't deserve it," she said. "Not when I'm supposed to be in charge of housing down here."

Salvatore smiled. "Yeah, I see your point. Well, let's just concentrate on getting the 2B, and we'll see what happens. When do you think we'll get the flat?"

"I don't know," she said with a half-shrug. "I'll see when I get back to work. But the last time I looked, no one in the 2Bs was applying for a 3B, which means we have no 2Bs available. There are only ten of them, and most are occupied by old people. So unless there's a bereavement or one of the rare young couples living there decides to have another child, we're stuck here." Hester thought about the tenants of the 2B apartments and mentally assessed the chances of any of them dying or moving out. "Actually, come to think of it, odds are pretty good that something might free up by the time we're married. We'll just have to wait and see."

"You really enjoy that job, don't you?"

Hester spread her hands. "What can I say? I'm an estate agent at heart. It makes a change from the school work I do the rest of the time. I don't always make a lot of friends, of course, especially when I have to tell people to move on for whatever reason, or when I have to keep telling them to wait for those new apartments at Verdeschi."

"They're going to be beautiful, though," said Salvatore enthusiastically. "Kyoko is a genius! And we've nearly finished the decoration, which is going to be a big change from the old pristine white."

"Yes, I've seen the pictures. It's all very... colourful. Especially the children's rooms."

"Children like colour. It's a well-known fact," declared Salvatore, waving a philosophical hand. "I think I'll be glad when I've finished all the painting, though. I want to get back to working at the Cliffs again. And of course, I want to see the final result when people start moving into the apartments. Who knows, maybe we'll get one of them one of these days."

"A 6B?" exclaimed Hester. "Do you have any idea how many children we'd have to have?!"

"Yes, at least four. Why, is there a problem with that?" he said with a glint in his eye.

"A problem--" Hester noticed his expression and shook her head. "Three's the limit, kiddo. After that I'll start forgetting their names."

Salvatore laughed. "Dear me, it's just as well you're not Aisha Ofori!"

Neil sat on the hill in the evening sunlight and watched, as his four children played in the empty amphitheatre. Laura was directing young Ngaio and Karima in some imaginary play and the two young girls were dancing merrily around, singing an old song that his father had taught them.

"Oranges and lemons, say the bells of St Clement's," drifted merrily up to him.

"No, no girls - you must dance this way!" came the haughty voice of Laura.

"Stop bossing them around, Laura," said Nicholas, who was slouching around with his hands in his pockets because at twelve, he considered himself way too old for such childish games. "Let them do it their way!"

Neil chuckled to himself when Laura stuck out her tongue at her brother. He loved to watch his children playing, and although the two eldest weren't biologically his, he still considered them his own. Nicholas climbed up the steps of the amphitheatre and sat down beside Neil, heaving a sigh.

"When is Mum coming?" he asked. "I'm sick of waiting here."

Neil shrugged his shoulders.

"I shouldn't think she'll be long, son. She knew what time we were due to meet her at the Temple, and she probably got held up with someone she had to see. You can go on home if you want to."

Layla had a standing arrangement with Neil that if he and the children were to meet her at the Temple at any time and she wasn't there, then they would wait at the amphitheatre, where the kids could play without disturbing any worshippers.

"Why does Mum spend so much time helping other people, instead of being with us?" asked Nicholas.

He seemed to be going through a stage where nothing his parents and in particular his mother did, was good enough. Neil silently thanked the stars that his own father had come for a visit with them. Although it meant that he and Layla often found they had less private time together, Nicholas idolised Pete and behaved himself much better when his grandfather was around.

"Because those other people need me Nick; you know that," said a voice from behind them.

Layla put her hands on Neil's shoulders and bent down to kiss him.

"Sorry I'm late," she whispered.

Neil shook his head.

"I like sitting here," he said. "It's a good place to relax and think, when it's empty."

"Nick, would you mind taking the three girls home please, while your father and I spend a few minutes together?" asked Layla. "I just saw your grandpa and he said he was on his way home too, so he should be there by the time you get back."

Nicholas nodded, and ran off to the girls.

"Come on you lot!" he yelled, his voice echoing around the amphitheatre. "We have to leave."

With a wave at their Mum, the three girls followed Nick down the hillside and out of sight.

"I really am sorry that I'm late," said Layla, leaning her head on Neil's shoulder. "I know I haven't been spending as much time with you and the children as I'd like to, but things have been so busy lately."

"I thought Davey was supposed to be going to help with your Temple work and ease the load a little for you," said Neil, putting his arm around her.

He could feel Layla's tiredness in the way she leaned against him, as well as see it in the dark circles under her eyes. He was worried about her; worried that she gave too much of herself to others.

"Davey doesn't do much, except lecture the little group of people who he seems to consider his private disciples," sighed Layla. "But that's okay with me; I'd rather it be that way for a while. I don't really trust him."

Neil nodded. He knew for a fact that his one time friend was unstable and didn't really like him around his wife at all. And he had a gut instinct that their problems with him weren't over.

"I was late because I had to pop down to the tavern to see Sal and Hester, to check a couple of details of their wedding service with them," said Layla, changing the subject.

She sat up straighter and began to giggle. Soon her giggle turned into a fit of laughter and Neil looked at her in surprise.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

Layla wiped a few tears from her eyes and shook her head.

"When I got to the tavern there was hardly anyone there, but Sal was behind the bar doing the strangest things with a pair of cocktail shakers. He has some old music from Earth playing and he was trying to toss the shakers behind his back and up in the air and... and...."

She dissolved into fits of laughter again.

Neil began to laugh too.

"And what?"

"He kept dropping them," spluttered Layla. "It was hopeless! Kiri was there as well, and your father. They were trying to give him tips on how to do it. Apparently it was your father's idea; something he'd seen in an old movie. He'd told Sal about it a few evenings ago and Sal had gone and done some research. If he ever perfects his cocktail shaker tossing it will be quite a sight, but in the meantime... well..."

"Yep, that would be Dad's idea," smiled Neil. "My mum was a big fan of this actor called Tom Cruise. I remember he starred in this movie called 'Cocktail' and she loved it. I thought it was pretty ordinary myself, when I went to see it in the theatre up on Alpha, but Dad would have fond memories of it."

"I see," said Layla. "Your dad still thinks about your mum a lot, doesn't he."

Neil nodded.

"She was the love of his life."

"I know just how he feels," Layla whispered softly, taking Neil's face between her hands and kissing him gently. "I'm sorry we haven't been spending much time together - let's do something about that. Get your father to mind the kids and take a couple of days away together, while he's still on holiday here."

"Great idea," agreed Neil, pulling Layla close to him. "But we're alone now, aren't we."

Layla nodded, and kissed his neck.

"We're lucky, aren't we," she said. "Lucky to have each other."

"You bet," murmured Neil, kissing her back. "Do you think we could organise this holiday really quickly? I fancy having you all to myself for a while."

"Oh, I'm sure we can," smiled Layla. "But I think we'd better be getting back home now, before we get too carried away. Someone is likely to walk up here on a nice evening like this, and catch us behaving like a couple of teenagers."

Neil reluctantly stood up and helped Layla to her feet.

"Come on then, you staid old thing," he grinned. "Let's go and see what those kids of ours are doing to my father. We'll just have to pick up where we left off a little later tonight..."

And Layla's laughter at his words echoed around the empty amphitheatre, as they walked off down the hillside.

"Happy Anniversary"

They clinked glasses and Eddie took a long sip of the sparkling cider. He wished it was champagne but both he and Shermeen had given up drinking years ago. After watching so many of their friends die, they had made a vow to take better care of themselves. Giving up alcohol was one the decisions they had made. Eddie was sorry they hadn't made an exception for just one night.

"I can't believe it's been thirty-five years," Shermeen said.

"You look just as beautiful as the day we meet." Eddie tried to sound suave and not hokey. He was pretty sure he had failed.

Shermeen smiled, "I think I'll make an appointment for you to see Astrid tomorrow. You obviously need your eyes checked."

"My eyes are just fine," Eddie protested. "I'm not saying you look the same as you did when you were nineteen, but I think you look just as gorgeous."

This time Shermeen did not protest but leaned in to kiss her husband. "Who would have ever thought you were such a romantic. When we first meet you could barely squeak out a hello to me before sulking off."

"I was shy."

"Completely tongue tied is more like it." She teased.

"When we met you were very young and..."

"You were a sophisticated man of the world," she interrupted.

"You were a student and I was supposed to be working with you, teaching you. It wouldn't have been judicious for me to date you." Eddie answered.

"Not judicious, huh? So what finally changed your mind?" She asked.

"I was about to ask you out , when you became all infatuated with Tony..."

"I was not infatuated." Shermeen interrupted again. "I just thought he was nice."

Eddie gave her his best "you have got to be kidding" stare before continuing, "and then the next thing I know you are following some half clad alien around."

"He was kind of cute, for a guy made of anti matter. And he was bald, you know how attractive I find the naked scalp." Shermeen ran her hand over Eddie's nearly hairless dome.

"After all that I figured, what have I got lose." Eddie took another sip.

"And so here we are? Thirty five years together. Five children, numerous grandchildren and builders of a new world. Not bad for one lifetime." Shermeen said.

"No regrets then?" Eddie asked.

"No, none." She smiled and kissed him again. She turned so that she could lean her head on his shoulder. "I got a notice today, asking if we'd consider moving into smaller quarters."

Becky had told Eddie about it a few days before. He knew Shermeen wouldn't like moving out of the home they had kept for nearly sixteen years. "I know. They need the larger quarters for big families."

"We have a big family." Shermeen protested.

Eddie wrapped his arms around his wife. Her hair smelled of the flowers she had been tending earlier in the day. "Yes we do, but they don't live with us anymore."

"It's not right. We worked so hard to build this place. We should be able to stay in our home as long as we want."

"Well I don't think anyone will forcibly evict us. It's just a request" Eddie began. "Still you know there's a need. John was complaining to me yesterday about how long he and Akiko had been waiting for a bigger place."

Shermeen didn't answer. Eddie assumed she was thinking about their eldest son's wife, when she spoke up, "What do you want to do? Do you think we should move?"

Eddie thought for a moment. "I think we should wait a few months until the new units are ready. I've heard that in addition to the huge apartments there will be a few smaller ones. Becky keeps saying Kyoko Fujita is a genius. If we could get one of those, it might actually be fun to move."

"Shermeen sat up and looked at him. It was a wide eyed earnest look. To his eyes, she looked just like the naive teenager he had fallen in love with. "You think so?"

"Sure. It will be our own place. A cozy place for two. I'll call Becky right away and ask her about it."

Shermeen leaned up close to Eddie's ear and kissed him by his chin. "Call her tomorrow. We have an anniversary to celebrate tonight." She got up and headed to the bedroom, turning around once to make sure he was following.

Eddie stood. Thirty-five years. Not bad at all.

The weather was noticeably warmer this time around. Waves of searing hot air hit Aisha as she came out of the passenger shack to board the train. She could tell that things had changed at Dover since her brief visit over a year and a half earlier. Aside from the obvious difference in temperature, the Doverians seemed to have spread their greenhouses and equipment very much further out onto the Flats, presumably gaining ground as the waters of the lake receded. There were a lot more tourists on the train as well; Karim and Becky's incentives combined with the warm weather of the late spring were evidently attracting the people Dover needed to survive.

Aisha herself had been attracted enough to come back after her holiday in Y31. This time, she was returning as a dogsbody who had agreed to a three month tour of duty. Fifteen years trapped in a self-inflicted ouroboros of pregnancy and childcare had finally worn down Aisha's resolve to be a perfect earth mother. She had had to face facts and realise that she was first and foremost a human being. A human being who needed a break.

She was pleased to be greeted by some familiar faces when she got off the train. Her brother Ahmed and sister Halima had both come to meet her and entertained her with various items of gossip as they escorted her to her room in the Visitor's Centre. This too had changed and Aisha had to laugh when she saw the decoration in her room. The plain powder blue screens which covered the walls were now adorned with a colourful frieze just a few centimetres beneath the level of the ceiling.

"Oh, I think I know whose work that is!" she exclaimed.

"Yes, your friend Sal Verdeschi has been let loose on any blank piece of wall available," said Halima disapprovingly.

Aisha looked at her sister and noticed how tired and old she looked. She wondered just how well Halima was coping; she nearly asked, but then decided it wasn't a subject Halima would want to discuss in front of their little brother Ahmed.

"I really like his designs," said Ahmed, waving his hand at the frieze. "You should see the paintings he's done in the new quarters at Verdeschi! I've been putting in the plumbing over there and I've seen his stuff. It's awesome!"

"Ah yes, the six bedroom flats. I've heard about those." Aisha smiled as she remembered Karim describing them as 'reluctant anti-contraceptive measures' in one of his messages.

"Maybe you should get your family to move down here," suggested Ahmed. "At least you know there's somewhere to put them all. It'd be fun to have half the Oforis down here, and I'm sure the kids would enjoy the fresh air."

This time, Halima smiled. "There won't be so much fresh air when the summer starts in a few months' time. But Ahmed's right. Maybe you should talk to Jean-Paul about it. It isn't as if you couldn't both continue to do what you do on Alpha down here. The weather might actually be inspirational for your designs."

"That's what I'm hoping," said Aisha.

She realised they had all been standing near the entrance to the room far too long, and moved to unpack her suitcase. Most of the items in it were fabric samples and designs she was working on, though she had brought some clothes which she could show off at parties. Aisha believed that being able to model her own designs was essential to her job, even though this year, it had meant virtually starving herself as soon as her baby Malika was weaned.

Ahmed excused himself, explaining that he had some sewage pipes to inspect, and left the two sisters alone in Aisha's new room.

"You look very thin," said Halima neutrally.

Aisha didn't answer. She knew that Halima had access to her medical file. She continued to unpack her clothes, hanging them methodically in the closet.

"How did you manage to lose ten kilos in just six months?" insisted Halima, sitting down on the bed. "That's a very significant weight loss."

"Simple. I stopped eating." Aisha put down the garment she was holding and turned towards her sister. "I'm at the top end of my ideal weight now, so all I have to worry about is keeping the weight off. Don't worry, I don't have some kind of eating disorder."

"What did Jean-Paul think of this sudden weight loss?"

"He thinks I look beautiful," said Aisha automatically. In truth, Jean-Paul had made no particular mention of her weight.

"Does that mean you're having another child, just to even things out with Grandma Ofori?"

Aisha stifled a sigh. The disdainful Grandma Ofori comment irritated her, even though it was appropriate. Their father's mother back in rural Kenya had married at fifteen and borne ten children. For want of a better role model when Aisha found herself pregnant at that absurdly young age, she had made a private decision to emulate this unseen grandmother their father spoke so highly of. It was better than to think of herself as a failure who hadn't even had the courage to say no to a pressing boyfriend.

"I'm surprised you didn't look up Jean-Paul's file too, while you were at it," she said in a low voice. "You'd have seen that he's had a vasectomy."

Halima guffawed. "Not a moment too soon, either. He should have had one fifteen years ago."

Aisha decided not to answer. She was sick of defending Jean-Paul to her family. They were never going to see him as anything else than the randy teenager who had knocked up their sister, and Aisha was too preoccupied with her own issues to reopen the age old argument.

There was a long silence as she finished unpacking. She had never got on particularly well with Halima, or anyone in her family for that matter. Fatuma was the closest thing she had to a friend among her relatives. Aisha now realised that, back in the days when she was a lonely, unloved fifteen-year-old, a major motivation for getting involved with Jean-Paul was that he was nice to her and had such a wonderfully loving family. With no one else to turn to, marrying into the Castellano family had seemed the only viable option.

"This might seem like a rude question, but... have you left him?" asked Halima.

Aisha hesitated before answering, using the time it took her to pull out a chair and sit down on it to think about her answer.

"No. Not as far as planning a divorce or anything is concerned," she said. "We just agreed to have a break."

Halima lifted her eyebrows inquisitively. "A break? And what does a 'break' mean?"

She looked so like their mother that it sent shivers down Aisha's spine. Aisha couldn't remember if Halima had also inherited their mother's lack of humour. But she decided that the amusing comment in her mind was worth a mention.

"A break means that I get to sun myself on Loki for three months while Jean-Paul looks after the nine kids."

Much to Aisha's relief, Halima laughed. "Oh, I'm sure that'll teach him a lesson or two."

"He should know how to handle them by now," said Aisha with a shrug. "I've been too busy having them to raise them. That's Jean-Paul's area of expertise."

"Well, I'm glad to know one of you knows what to do with them."

This is pointless, thought Aisha sourly. They couldn't have a conversation about Aisha's marriage without it eventually degenerating into an argument. Aisha felt a strong desire to bring Halima's strange marriage to Duncan Vincent into the conversation, but she knew that would just make things worse. Halima had married a man she loved at a reasonable age, but the man was already married to someone else, which effectively made Halima second fiddle to another woman. Aisha remembered their mother Alibe throwing up her hands and lamenting that God seemed to have deprived all her daughters of any sense when it came to men.

There was another long silence, during which Aisha mustered up the courage to broach the topic that had preoccupied her earlier.

"Halima... You never really said what happened... about the triplet," she said.

Halima lowered her eyes and scratched the scarred skin on the side of her face. "Well, as expected, they were born premature. We were expecting that and we were expecting complications. I went into labour at 30 weeks. Two twin girls and a boy. The girls did all right, but the boy just didn't make it. There was nothing we could do."

"I remember your message. I'm sorry."

"These things happen," said Halima philosophically. "Some children just aren't meant to live."

Aisha nodded, though she had to admit that she had no idea how Halima must be feeling. One of the reasons she had so many children was that conceiving them and carrying them to term had never been a problem.

"Have you heard that Salvatore Verdeschi is getting married?" asked Halima after a brief pause.

"Oh yes. Little Hester has finally decided to make an honest man of him," said Aisha with a chuckle. "I think they'll be happy. They've known each other for a while now, and they both strike me as sensible people."

"Sensible, yes. That's a good description of Hester, but I'm not so sure about Salvatore." Halima looked up at the gaudy geometric frieze. "He doesn't strike me as the family type."

Aisha shrugged uncertainly. "I haven't talked to him in a while, but I know he grew up a great deal in the time I knew him on Alpha. If he continued on the same track, he'll probably be a good husband."

"A good husband?" repeated Halima. "I remember when he was a little boy. I can't imagine him as someone's husband."

"Well, the little boy is nearly twenty-one," Aisha reminded her. "I notice that all the marriages these days involve people in their twenties. It looks as if some of the lessons of the past are beginning to sink in. Jean-Paul and I will hopefully remain the only people ever to marry before we were old enough. And believe me, that thought pleases me quite as much as it does you."

"Really?" said Halima dubiously.

"Really."

Aisha hesitated, knowing that honesty would probably only fuel Halima's antipathy towards Jean-Paul. But on the other hand, she saw no point in lying. She hoped being candid might at least allow Halima to see things in a slightly different light.

"I know what you'd like to hear," she started, lowering her eyes, "but I can't pretend I haven't been happy. As amazing as it might sound to you given the unpromising start to our relationship, I do love Jean-Paul and I love our children. I don't think I married the wrong man. But I definitely married him at the wrong time. Much as I love him, I... It sounds so selfish, but I need... more. In the last few years, I've come to have this feeling that I'm not doing what I should be doing, that I'm not living up to my potential. I mean... Having a large family and raising it is rewarding and challenging, but the rewards and challenges aren't quite enough for me. When I was expecting our seventh child, so this was years ago, I suddenly thought 'this is all I ever do'. And in a way, it's true: the sum total of my achievement as a teenager and adult had been producing children. And... noble as it might be, it's something that just about anyone can do. And I thought, 'I can do more than this -- I should be doing more than this'. I know -- you could have told me that years ago. But I wouldn't have listened until I realised it myself."

Glancing at her sister, Aisha was relieved to see interest and comprehension in Halima's brown eyes, not just a cold 'I told you so' reproach.

"And now you've realised it, you're making up for lost time?" said Halima gently.

"Exactly." Aisha sighed and put on a rueful expression. "I looked back on my life and thought about all the things I'd never done, and it just made me so bitter. And I felt so guilty, because I thought that having put myself in this situation in the first place, I should just accept my fate and go along with it. I had a loving husband and lovely children. I was lucky enough to have children while others can't -- this was when Brenda discovered she couldn't have children -- and I just felt so... guilty for being so selfish. For wanting to do my own thing when so many other people depended on me."

"This is such a familiar story, you wouldn't believe it," said Halima, shaking her head. "I don't know if you read the bulletin boards, but the Private Lives one is just full of those same feelings. People feeling guilty because they're having second thoughts about the responsibilities they took on when they were teenagers."

"It's the mal du siècle," agreed Aisha. "I had it too. I tried to do something about it by starting to do design, but with small children around all the time, there was a limit to what I could get done. The reason I've only ever been a seamstress is that once I had the sewing machine set up in the living-room, I could work and watch the children at the same time. But designing requires a lot more peace and quiet. And as I got more involved with that, it became more and more frustrating. I thought I'd be all right once Delphine started at the Maternal School; I felt too guilty to put her in the crèche just because I wanted a quiet day. But then the next thing I knew, Malika was on her way and I knew I had to do something."

"Is that why Jean-Paul had a vasectomy?"

"Well, we'd already agreed that eight was quite enough, but my body obviously didn't take the hormone pill seriously," said Aisha with a reluctant grin. "It's a pity, because that is definitely a lot nicer than the shots! And more practical than all the barrier methods we usually used."

Halima nodded enthusiastically. "Oh yes, it's not for nothing the Pill was a revolution on Earth. I'm glad the Chem Lab have finally started manufacturing it on a large scale. It completes all the methods we have at our disposal."

"Yeah, well anyway, Jean-Paul and I decided to put a permanent end to it all," said Aisha. "I think we can pretty safely say that we're not planning on having any more children! Since I had no intention of having a major operation to get my tubes cut, it was obvious Jean-Paul had to have a vasectomy."

"It's an infinitely simpler procedure, and reversible as well," said Halima, apparently lapsing into her medical persona for a moment. "So you're not having any more children and you'll presumably have more time to do your designs when Malika goes to school... So what are you doing here?"

Aisha spread her hands. "Not being able to do my designs wasn't the only problem. I think... I was getting very depressed. There are lots of other things I've never been able to do. I've never worked anywhere else but Alpha and I've never done any other work than seamstressing, for instance. But more to the point, like most of our generation, I went straight from being our parents' child to being someone's wife, without ever just being me. I was 'Aisha, Alibe's daughter' and then 'Aisha, Jean-Paul's wife' and now I'm 'Aisha, Mother of Nine'. Nobody thinks of me as just Aisha Ofori, independently of all the other people in my family."

"I'm sure people do --" started Halima.

"Maybe they do, but that doesn't really matter. I don't feel like an independent person. I've never lived alone. All my life, there's always been someone to make decisions for me. Our mother bossed me around when I was a child, Jean-Paul convinced me that we should get married, and I've left him to rule my life ever since. I know he doesn't have to, but I was a child when it started and I'm so used to it now that I don't even know if I'm capable of being independent. That's why I came here, to kill all the birds with the same stone."

"I see," said Halima. She nodded and smiled approvingly. "You get to live alone, away from Alpha. You try out a new job with different responsibilities, and you get to see how you survive on your own."

"Something like that."

"And what if you can survive on your own? Will you go back to letting Jean-Paul boss you around, or will you put your foot down and change that? And if you do, how do you think he'll take it?"

"Jean-Paul doesn't 'boss me around'," said Aisha. "I just get lazy and let him decide when we should have holidays, or worry about getting the supplies we need. As to what will happen when I go back, I don't know. Maybe he'll like the new independent me, or maybe he won't." She shrugged. "At least I'll have no more regrets about things I should have done when I was a teenager. Who knows, maybe I'll develop an uncontrollable urge to stay here. Ahmed's right; the children could do a lot worse than to live in a large flat decorated by Salvatore Verdeschi. I think Jean-Paul would enjoy it too, once he got over being wrenched away from Papa-Maman."

"Either way, it sounds as though your marriage is going to change."

Aisha nodded thoughtfully. "It's been stagnating for fifteen years. Change won't be such a bad thing."

Carla Sauique brushed her hair back from her forehead where several strands were stuck in the light sheen of perspiration. It was hot, so hot, she thought, that the nights didn't seem to bring any relief. She glanced up at the evening sky, even after all these years expecting to see the familiar constellations of Earth and the moon gently glowing in the night sky. But it was the strange starscape that never seemed to become familiar.

All of Dover was in what she considered the "superwork" mode, getting the last of the crops harvested and processed before they had to begin the shut down of Dover to prepare for the long hot summer ahead. She wasn't much help with anything these days, just sitting in her quarters for the last week or so, as she was just physically unable to help much with any work right now. But she wanted to make this trip; it would be her last before summer, and the way she felt today, perhaps her last ever. She walked slowly, her hip aching despite the heat. She carried a bouquet of sunflowers and a flashlight in one hand and she occasionally leaned on her cane with the other. She would be having the hip replacement next month, and the doctors assured her that she would be able to walk for miles after it was done.

She stopped in front of a large stone marker which was about fifty feet from the field where potatoes were in the process of being harvested. She knelt slowly, leaning heavily on her cane, pain lancing from her hip down to her ankle, to brush some loose dirt that covered the laser-etched stone. "Peter Gordon Sauique, 1964-2039 (Y31)." She placed the sunflowers next to the stone.

"Well, Pete, it's been two years, and I still miss you every day. I miss the mud you track into our quarters, and I miss your morning kiss. You kissed my cheek every morning for 38 years, and I guess I didn't realize how used to that I was until I didn't have it any more. I know I always complained about your snoring, but I'd love to hear it just one more time." Carla glanced around, self conscious that she was speaking aloud, but feeling that what was on her mind required it.

"I guess if you've been keeping an eye on things down here, you know that the kids are fine, and that you have another granddaughter. The boys miss you a lot, especially Robert, I think. But he's certainly become a fine young man, and you certainly had everything in the world to do with that. You were a good father." Carla shifted her weight and sat down all the way. Kneeling was too painful.

"I know just about everyone has the memory of you being a dour, reticent, even grumpy man, but I know what you were, and the boys keep that memory alive in their hearts as well. Your silly jokes and stories; the way you would listen to a problem, mull it over for a few days and come back with the perfect solution; the fact that you always complimented my cooking, no matter how bad it was; the way you could communicate everything you were thinking in a single glance. You had the weight of the world on your shoulders; I know that feeding our growing population was always on your mind. You used to talk in your sleep about production figures and crop failure. You never let yourself rest, and I know that's what took you away so soon." She sighed and dabbed the corner of her eye. She was silent for a long while, peering out into a darkness illuminated only by starlight and by the eerie glow of the occasional lucy bush.

"So you're probably wondering why I'm here, yammering away like a crazy old woman. Of course, you may already know, able to see into my heart now in a way you never were able to before. Or maybe you could, after all. But I feel like I have to say it now, because I never dared tell you when you were alive." Carla drew a breath. She didn't know why she felt compelled to make her confession to her dead husband, but she knew somehow that this had to be said.

"I never really loved you like I should have, and it's been gnawing at me ever since you died, maybe before, really. Oh, Pete, I liked you well enough, and I respected you, and I miss you terribly now that the habit of you is gone, but I never, ever felt 'in love' with you. I always loved you, but more like I would my best friend or even a brother. And I feel so guilty about it. Oh, I never cheated on you, Pete, but you deserved better than me, someone to love you better. I know was outwardly a good wife, went through the motions of making a home, raising the children, always working so hard just to survive here. But I just feel like I wasn't a good wife in my heart, that I didn't love you like a wife should. But I never thought about leaving you. I mean, what would we have done without each other?"

Carla smiled to herself. "You proposed to me two years and twenty six days after we left Earth. For 5 years after Breakaway I kept track of how long it had been since we left Earth, right down to the day. I guess for a long time I always felt like we would get back home by some miracle...... You got down on your knees in Hyrdroponics Bay 12, told me that you had loved me for over a year and that it would kill you if I turned you down since we were working so closely together. Pretty romantic stuff for you!"

Carla shook her head. "I was so surprised. I had no idea how you felt, and the thing was, I was in love with someone else. But I knew nothing would ever happen with him, and I was tired of being alone. There is nothing like hurtling through the universe willy-nilly to make you acutely aware of how alone you really are. And I know you were lonesome, too. I guess I just wanted someone to take care of me, and there didn't seem to be a lot of options. I know that sounds so heartless, but it's the truth. And I think we took pretty good care of each other over the years. But you did it out of love, and I did it out of duty, because of the vow that I made.

"And now I miss you terribly. Not a day goes by that I turn around to say something to you, or mentally file an anecdote away, thinking 'I need to tell Pete.' I wish I could have told you all of this when you were alive, but it would have hurt you too badly. But I think that somehow you would have made it right, like you always seemed to do."

Carla stood, wincing at the pain shooting through her hip as she rose. "You took good care of me, Pete, and you were a good man. You deserved better than me, and I hope that you are someplace now surrounded by love." She blew a kiss at the marker and began the long, painful walk back to her quarters.

Matthew lifted the shiny clump of material and tossed it thoughtfully into the air. He turned to grin at Friedhelm, who was sitting beside him, piloting the Eagle in its approach to Dover.

"Just think, men used to kill each other for this stuff," he said.

"Unbelievable," said Friedhelm, shaking his head. "But you can see why it was so rare. That was damn hard work."

The Dover mining team had just spent the last two weeks excavating gold from the hill country in sector 28-51. The metal would be used for chemical and medical purposes, and incidentally for some jewellery work. Every settlement in the solar system now had the facilities to manufacture wedding rings in standard sizes, though there were few people skilful enough to manufacture more elaborate designs.

Friedhelm was silent as he manoeuvred the Eagle into a slow descent onto the heights at Koenigshafen. Matthew was not a pilot and he watched with admiration as his friend pressed buttons and waggled the steering shaft to make the large craft go where he wanted. The Eagle touched the ground with a thud and the two men left the cockpit to help their colleagues unload the ore.

It took the rest of the day to process the ore, cleaning away all the dirt and starting to melt the gold into easily transportable ingots. Matthew was very pleased that all their hard work had yielded about 10 kilos of the stuff. Enough to keep the Chem Lab and any soon-to-be newly weds in the solar system happy until after the summer.

Ever since the beginning of the expedition, Matthew had been hatching a little plan in his head. While they were casting the gold into the ingot moulds, he asked Friedhelm for a favour which his friend was more than pleased to grant. They got the necessary mould and the first phase of Matthew's plan was completed.

"So are you going to give your Mary the ring tonight?" asked Friedhelm as the two men travelled back to Dover on the train later that day.

"Yeah, that's the plan," said Matthew. "We'll see what she says."

He opened the plastic box they had put the ring in, and tried to imagine slipping it onto Mary's finger. He pictured Mary in a wedding dress, smiling happily as they exchanged their vows. The marriage ceremony didn't mean much to Matthew, but the idea of Mary smiling happily was enough to calm any of his qualms about going down the path that had proved so unsuccessful for his siblings.

"It's about time you two got married," said Friedhelm. "Sylvia and I have been wondering what's kept you all these years. You've been living together for as long as I can remember, and you even have a bairn. It's time you got married and settled down."

"Oh, we're settled down already," said Matthew with a shrug. "We've held off because, well, let's face it, my family's not exactly an encouragement to marry. Two divorces and two who barely talk to their spouses. My parents have just celebrated their thirty-fifth anniversary, but their example doesn't seem to have rubbed off on the rest of us. It all looks like way too much work. Mary and I agreed we'd keep things simple. We were doing fine until... well, maybe it's time we married. We need a happy event for a change."

Friedhelm nodded approvingly. "I know what happened. Sylvia told me. But it's not the end of the world. That happened to us too, and it just made our relationship stronger. In truth, getting married now would probably go a long way towards cheering Mary up. She's been burying herself in her work and she could probably do with a happy occasion. A wedding's always fun. Sylvia is really looking forward to Hester and Sal's."

"'The social event of the year,' someone on the forums said." Matthew grinned. "You'd think Salvatore was royalty. Still, he's marrying a bonny lass, as you'd say."

"Oh aye. A lass with huge... tracts of land," said Friedhelm, chuckling as he made the appropriate gesture, a reference to the film Monty Python and the Holy Grail. "I should think we can look forward to a few more Psychon bairns. A few little Dorzaks and Mayas running around might be just the tourist attraction Karim needs."

"Well, we'd certainly be able to add those to the list of things that we have that the off-worlders don't!"

The conversation died down for a while. Matthew looked out of the open side of the train. The sun was setting behind the cliffs to his right, but sunlight still illuminated the lake, where the shadow of the cliffs hadn't yet reached. The air was warm and sticky; Matthew pulled a handkerchief out of his trouser pocket and mopped his forehead. He reflected that he had a lot more forehead now than a few years earlier. Like his father and brothers before him, he knew he was destined to be bald by the time he was forty.

"Will you have more kids if you get married?" asked Friedhelm suddenly.

"Inch'allah," said Matthew noncommittally, putting the handkerchief away. "But I don't think we'll try to compete with you!"

"Ah, it's not a competition. Sylvia and I love nothing more than our wee little ones, and having a lot of them was a long-time dream for both of us."

"So how many are you planning to have? Are you trying to catch up with the Castellanos?"

"I wouldn't discount that," said Friedhelm. But he then shook his head. "On the other hand, you can have too much of a good thing. I think nine kids would strain even a 6B... I wonder if the Castellanos will move down, now that the mother is here."

"Well, eleven more people to work here might make Karim happy," said Matthew neutrally.

He didn't know the Castellanos, though Mary had mentioned something about getting a dress from Aisha Ofori. He'd heard about their underage marriage and nine children, but that was the sum total of what he knew. He wasn't sure that the Castellanos would be a good addition to the Dover population. But that was a matter for the Cadmin anyway.

The train had stopped at Verdeschi, and Friedhelm hopped off. "Well, back to the wife and kids. Good luck with the proposal. I'll tell Sylvia to start preparing for your wedding."

Matthew grinned politely, though he was aware that Friedhelm's enthusiasm was probably premature. Now that he had had some time to think about it, Matthew was afraid that Mary's reaction might not be as positive as he hoped.

He was right.

Later that evening, when Matthew gave Mary the box and pronounced the age-old words "Will you marry me?", he could tell immediately from the look on her face what her response would be. He knew he wasn't the most sensitive person when it came to reading people's emotions, but Mary looked so underwhelmed that even Matthew could tell she wasn't pleased.

He watched as Mary took the ring out and observed it thoughtfully. He was mentally kicking himself for spoiling the quiet romantic evening Mary had so carefully planned. Their son Pat was being cared for by his grandparents and Mary had arranged for a take-away meal from the pub. She had obviously wanted to welcome Matthew back with a private celebration.

Mary was wearing a new dress, the blue one she had ordered from Aisha Ofori a few weeks earlier. The dress was surprisingly unrevealing; it was long and straight, with a waistband under Mary's bust and short sleeves. The neckline revealed only a small portion of Mary's upper chest. Matthew wasn't sure that he liked the new dress, but he did find that it drew more attention to Mary's long neck and her luxurious brown hair, piled in a large bun at the back of her head. The bun was particularly fascinating; Matthew loved Mary's long thick hair and the idea of having to undo a complicated bun in order to run his fingers through it was tantalising. If he had to marry anyone, this was the woman he would marry.

But he could already tell that marriage was highly unlikely.

"Matt..." started Mary. She sighed and put the ring down.

Matthew took the ring and put it back in the box.

"I'm sorry. I thought..."

There was a pause before Mary spoke again.

"Matthew, I love you," she said, putting her hand on his. "I don't need some computer certificate to prove it. We've been happy together so far. Why spoil that with something that we've never needed before?"

It was true that Matthew had never felt the need to get married before. He had been content with his life with Mary, and although the birth of their son Patrick nearly two years earlier had changed their lives, it hadn't made either of them more desirous to marry.

"I know why you're doing this," continued Mary. "But it won't help."

She got up and carried the dirty dishes into the kitchen, the long dress swishing as she walked. Matthew remained seated at the dining table, looking down at the box. He raised his eyes again as Mary came back.

"Getting married won't bring her back," she said.

Matthew leaned his elbows on the table and buried his face in his hands. They had never really discussed the abortion, and the silence had hung between them like a shroud for the past four months. Matthew wasn't sure he was ready to discuss it now, either.

"I thought it might cheer you up," he explained. "When I saw the gold, I thought a big do might... I don't know. Everyone always seems so happy at weddings, and I thought we could both do with a bit of happiness."

Looking up, Matthew could see Mary coming towards him. She sat beside him and put her arm around his shoulders.

"People look happy at weddings, but we all know how some of those marriages turn out," said Mary sensibly. "I'd rather be happily unmarried than unhappily married. I know I haven't been very cheerful lately, but it's no reflection on you or on how I feel about you. It isn't a sign that I need anything more than time to heal."

"I know the last few months have been hard," said Matthew, "and I just wanted to give you something to make things better."

"A wedding? Every young girl's dream, right?"

Matthew laughed as he realised how naive he had been. "Yeah. Marriage as a magic wand to solve all our problems." He tossed the box away. "I'll bring the ring back to the foundry tomorrow. I'm sorry... I should have waited a bit before trying to jump on the bandwagon. I'd have realised what a schmuck I was being... Mary, I just want us to be happy again."

"Oh, baby, we'll be happy again!" she exclaimed. "We lost one child, but not each other. We can have other children, and they probably won't have the same problem. Halima said that some level of abnormality can occur in any pregnancy, but that it's extremely rare and unlikely to happen again."

"I know." Matthew nodded. "It was just a shock when it happened."

"Yeah."

Mary looked away and Matthew realised it wasn't very tactful to talk about his shock. Mary was the one who had had to go through the termination.

"I think we should try for another child," she said after a pause. "I think replacing the child we lost -- even symbolically -- would probably cheer me up more than a wedding. I don't think I'll ever be the marrying kind."

Matthew kissed her cheek. "It's a deal. As that singer Joni Mitchell wrote in one of her songs, We don't need no piece of paper from the City Hall, keeping us tied and true."

"I couldn't have said it better myself," said Mary with a grin. "I think I can keep you tied and true all by myself."

"Sure thing," agreed Matthew. He paused and gently smoothed her hair, his fingers brushing the bun at the back of her head. "You serious about having more kids?"

"Yes, of course. At least one, to keep Patrick company." Mary kissed him and smiled. "We'll have to wait a little bit, though. A couple of months at least. I wanted to tell you... my little brother is coming to stay with us."

"Oh."

Matthew tried not to show how he felt about that. He didn't particularly like Michael. They had gone to school together, and it had always been obvious to Matthew that Mike didn't approve of his relationship with Mary. Matthew didn't approve of Mike's rumoured affair with PJ Potter either, so the two men were quits on that score.

"I knew you'd be pleased," said Mary indulgently. "But you'll just have to put up with him. He's been through a hard time this past couple of years, and I'm pleased he's decided to take me up on my invitation. If I can't help him, who can? I'm his only family, after all."

"I know." Matthew put his hand on Mary's. "We'll put the family expansion on hold until he's gone."

Mary lowered her eyes. "Or until he's moved into a flat of his own. He might be back for good; the job on Alpha doesn't seem to have worked out."

The prospect of having Mary's disapproving brother living permanently at Dover wasn't exactly good news, but Matthew decided to put up a good front. He now realised how inconvenient his impromptu offer of marriage had been. They were going to be busy enough without organising a wedding on top of everything else.

"It sounds as if I'm not the only one whose wayward brother is coming home in time for the Verdeschi wedding," continued Mary. "I heard a rumour that Blake was coming back as well."

"Oh shit, all we need," said Matthew, shaking his head.

Blake was someone else that Matthew didn't particularly like, even though they were brothers. Years earlier, just after her parents died, Mary had been engaged to Blake. Before they could get married, Blake had got Layla Habibi pregnant and chose to marry her instead. Matthew had some vague notion that all this was the reason why Mary had never wanted to marry.

"Anyone else who might be coming down that I should know about?" he asked.

Fortunately, Mary shook her head. "No, but Michael and Blake should be enough to keep us occupied."

"We need a shovel! We can't find one!"

"It's right here where you left it, under the umbrella, Owen," Dinah leaned over and handed him the small shovel.

"Thanks Mama," Owen took the shovel and beamed. Then he turned and began his odd skipping gait back down to the lake's edge.

"Owen!"

He stopped short, then looked back reluctantly, obviously aware of what his mother was going to say.

"Don't hop like that. Uncle Richard said you needed to put your weight on it."

Owen looked down at his left leg, the calf visibly smaller than the right calf, with a bright red scar running down the outside of the leg. He sighed. "I can't go fast enough that way."

"Try," his mother said firmly.

"Yes ma'am," Owen said reluctantly. He turned and walked more slowly, still favoring the left leg, but making a true effort to put his weight on the smaller leg.

His older brother stood from the site of the elaborate sandcastle. "Hurry, Owen!"

"Ok, Deep," the five year old called. He immediately returned to the skipping gait that kept the weight off the left leg.

Dinah sighed and leaned back. Soon they'd be home and Richard would get Bill Reilly to help with some physical therapy on a regular basis. Perhaps that would help Owen. Bill worked at the plastics plant, but he'd always had a talent for gymnastics and taught classes for the children. He'd also injured his leg as a child and had developed an interest in physical therapy when he'd undergone it himself. It was a small sideline for him. One that he fortunately had not needed to use often.

"Aunt Dinah!" Three small children bounced up to her place under the umbrella. "Where's Bella?" The tallest girl asked.

"Hillary! What are you doing here? Where are your parents?"

"Daddy's coming." The girl pointed with a shake of her curly brown hair. "Mommy's still on Alpha. We're going to live down here at Dover for three whole months, and go to school here, and everything! Where's Bella?"

"Down by the water with her father and brothers," Dinah pointed.

The two girls turned and ran off. The little boy remained behind, his had on the arm of the chair. "Is D--, D--, D-"

Dinah waited patiently, familiar with Emil's speech patterns. She could guess what he wanted to know.

The four-year-old stopped, closed his green eyes and pulled brown curls away from hazel skin. He looked away from her. "Aunt Dinah, is D--, D--, D- Denys and Daniel-" He didn't continue, but didn't stutter either.

"They're there too. See? Digging just the other side of that wall." She pointed out the two tow heads who were throwing up sand to make a moat around the castle. Emil smiled and nodded.

"Go on! I'm sure they'll need another ditch digger."

Emil laughed and ran off. The twins spotted him at the same time, just as his sisters arrived at the castle. They jumped up together and dashed around the structure. They met the dark little boy and tackled him with hugs. Dinah watched with a smile as they pounded their friend, then lifted him from the sand and drew him back to their game.

"I knew I'd find you in the shade." Josh Devers dropped into the sand beside her. "And Alex in the sunshine."

"Hello Josh. Alex hadn't mentioned you were coming down."

"Alex didn't know. I knew you were spending a couple of weeks here and figured I'd see you when I got here. The Eagle trip with three kids wasn't conducive to composing thoughtful slatenotes."

Dinah nodded. "I know that. I'm looking forward to being home soon, but not to getting home. Is Hilly joining you later?"

"Hilly is enjoying a break from the four of us, and doesn't really have time to get away. Actually I'm here because of Esther."

"Your sister? I didn't know she was down here."

"She came with us. She drew the lottery of being dogsbody for three months to close out the season. Mom was worried about her coming down here alone, so Dad asked me if I could come too and keep an eye on her. So I signed up to be a dogsbody too and brought the kids with me."

"How did Hilly feel about that?"

"Relieved, I think," Josh said with a smile. He noticed Dinah's concerned look. "Oh, don't look at me like that, Di. She and I have been getting along better than ever lately. After Emma's death, we talked a lot about what might have been, and what we wanted from life. Hilly likes her job, and is good at it, even Ms. Goldberg insists she is. Probably on Earth, Hilly would have been a career woman, opting not to have a family. She doesn't really have the knack of getting close to the kids-doesn't even really want to be close to them. And whatever I felt for Emma, she knows it was never returned, and even if I had persuaded Emma to marry me, I expect she would still have been with Alan on that miner-and I would have lost her then. Hilly is still with me. And I do so love the kids she's given me." He watched his children with a fond eye.

Dinah looked around, "So where is Esther?"

"We've been off that cramped little Eagle for two hours and she's decided to go find the weather station. She told me she didn't see any reason to go outside and absorb solar radiation."

Dinah laughed. "Josh, I'm sorry, but your sister is so odd."

"Tell me about it. You know, your mom once told me she's a lot like my mother was before that alien thing. Arrogant, intellectual, impatient, certain that no one else was anywhere near as bright as she was. I think I'm glad she lost her mind if she was anything like Esther."

"And now you're Esther's shepherd."

"Yeah, something like that. Poor Mom. She wanted a daughter so badly. She seemed to think they'd have this miraculous understanding relationship. They'd talk about everything and spend time together. The way you and your mom always have. And she got Esther."

"Who barely speaks to her," Dinah said sympathetically.

"And thinks she's stupid," Josh said sorrowfully. "The more Mom fusses over her, the more Esther resists, and the more Mom tries to be what Esther wants, the more she disappoints her. But from what I've seen of Esther, if that's what Mom was like before, I'd pick my sweet drifty mother over Esther any day."

"She's just fifteen, Josh. She'll grow out of a lot of that. We were all pretty arrogant when we were fifteen."

"Ah yes, and now we're old."

"Speak for yourself," Alex said with a laugh. He had approached while the two were talking and knelt on the sand in front of his wife. "My girlfriend here isn't old and neither am I."

Dinah laughed and leaned forward to kiss her sandy sweaty husband.

Alex slapped his friend on the shoulder. "Come on, old man. What you need is to build a sandcastle in the sunshine. Join us, love."

"And be burned to a crisp in five minutes," Dinah replied. "No thank you."

"I'll rub lotion on you," Alex offered hopefully.

"You can rub lotion in me all you want, but it never does any good." She leaned forward seductively. "Would you rather have me sunburned tonight, or wanting you to rub lotion on me tonight?"

Alex grinned at Josh and placed sandy hands on his wife's knees. "Lotion tonight!" Alex chose quickly. "Josh, feel like babysitting?"

Josh smiled at his friends. "Why not. The girls will love a slumber party. Do you have the twins with you too?"

"Well, they're really with Mom and Dad, but if Emil asks, Mom won't be able to say no. They're having a picnic this afternoon and will be back around sundown."

"Daddy!" came a call from the castle.

Both men looked up, unable to distinguish which child had called in the wide open spaces. Voices sounded different here than they did on Alpha.

"You boys go play," Dinah said. "Keep the children in line."

"Who's going to keep us in line?" Alex laughed.

"Don't worry, I'm keeping an eye on you," Dinah warned.

"Yes ma'am." Alex and Josh headed for the sandcastle, the sunshine and their children.

Stepping up behind his wife where she sat on a large boulder, looking out over Rainbow Valley, John Koenig placed his hands on her shoulders and gently began kneading the tight and knotted muscles. Helena sighed with contentment and leaned back into John's ministrations. She was tempted to close her eyes in enjoyment, but was too fascinated by the numerous rainbows caused by the sunlight hitting the spray from the waterfalls. She had found this valley one of their first nights on Loki. She and John made it a point to come back every time they were on the planet. Sometimes they brought family with them for the outing, and sometimes they came alone, as they had now. They were all staying at Dover, having come to attend Sal and Hester's wedding. When Alex and Dinah offered to take the boys to the beach for the day, John readily agreed. Helena hadn't protested, exchanging a secret smile with her husband, for she knew what he had in mind. John arranged the use of a Swallow craft for the day, and the moment Preston, Denys and Daniel were out the door, John wasted no time in collecting the picnic lunch he'd arranged and taking Helena off to Rainbow Valley for a day of quiet relaxation.

Feeling his hips begin to ache, as they sometimes did when he stood too long, John bent over and kissed the top of Helena's head, ceased his massage of her shoulders, and eased around the side of the rock so he could sit next to her. Helena gave him a dreamy smile and cuddled up next to him. They sat in silence for a time, Helena watching the rainbows, John watching Helena. Slowly he leaned close and placed a kiss on her temple.

"You still look tired, Helena." She sat up straighter and looked at John. Helena shook her head as she gave him an amused, tolerant smile.

"I'm an old woman raising three very active pre-teen boys. What do you expect, a bundle of energy?"

"You're not old to me. And I expect you to take care of yourself, ask Alex and Richard, and me for more help with the boys. I can't lose you too."

Helena met John's gaze, nodded her understanding and moved into his embrace. They both still had bad days, when thoughts of Emma and Alan brought them a mixture of more tears than smiles. On days like that, having Emma's children nearby helped tremendously, but also hurt more than either could have imagined. Helena shook her head against John's shoulder and held him tightly.

"I may be tired, but I'm not going anywhere, John."

"Don't. I need you too much." Helena nuzzled the side of his neck, then pulled back enough to meet his gaze. She smiled slowly.

"When we decided to finally get married all those years ago, did you ever think we'd stay married so long?"

John took Helena's left hand and gently ran his fingers over it, lingering on her ring finger and the wedding ring she wore - his ring. John nodded.

"Yes. I didn't know what our future would be, or that we would ever... settle a new system and help to develop and expand it, but I was sure about us. Even when things were at their worst, before Richard was born, I knew we'd work it out and always be with each other, always be there for each other. I know it sounds corny, but I knew that about us from our first meeting."

"John..." Helena's tone was skeptical, her expression doubtful. Her memory of their first meeting was one of strained politeness and common mistrust. John grinned quickly as he shrugged one shoulder.

"Okay, maybe not consciously, but that day I walked into your office and we met for the first time... something inside me came alive again. Something I thought I would never feel or even want to feel after Jean died."

Helena smiled, her expression softening. She understood. "...I know. I never expected to be able to feel again, to be in love again, after I lost Lee... What was your wedding to Jean like?"

"To quote what the boards are saying about Sal and Hester's wedding, 'The social event of the season'... Well, maybe not that extravagant, but it was a big one, a circus. Jean was raised Catholic; she and her family wanted to do it up right. We had 400 guests, 6 attendants each, huge church, even bigger reception, the works. It's a good thing I was in love with her because in looking back, well... as they say, 'with age comes wisdom'."

Again John shook his head and chuckled thoughtfully. "What about your wedding to Lee?"

"We were both in school. Lee was finishing up his Masters, I was doing my residency. We had no money, no time to plan more than where we'd shop for dinner, and no real desire to be in the middle of a spectacle. We just went ahead and got married. A couple of witnesses, a few friends and the minister who was on duty at the hospital chapel that day. We didn't even tell our families until a month later."

"How did they react?"

"Lee's family was upset, a bit angry at not being invited or even told, but they eventually agreed it was wiser and more mature on our part to use the money we didn't spend on a huge wedding for school costs instead. My family... all that were left by then were a couple of distant cousins to whom I wasn't close. They sent a card."

Helena shook her head, smiling ruefully. She met John's gaze again and gave his hand a squeeze. He returned it. "I can tell you this; of the two weddings I've had, I far prefer our smaller, quiet, more intimate wedding to the event of the season. I also had a much better time on our honeymoon."

"John Koenig..." He raised his hand to still the protest he knew was coming, and shook his head as he met Helena's gaze, smiled into her eyes.

"It's the truth, Helena. Jean was like Dinah, she wouldn't let me near her until after we were married. Our wedding night was... less than satisfactory. The honeymoon wasn't all that great either. But with you... well, we'd been together long enough so that we knew just what the other liked, just what to do for our love making to be extremely satisfying. We were comfortable enough with each other not to be worried about anything, so the sparks really flew."

"They still do." Helena kissed John deeply, putting all her years of knowledge and experience into that kiss. It left John breathless and he paused a moment before answering the question Helena asked when the kiss ended. "No wedding night jitters, you mean?"

"No jitters of any kind, Helena, not even the first time we made love. I knew in my heart, in my head, in my soul that we were right, and no matter what, we would be together."

"I don't know as I'll ever find the words to tell you how... grateful I am that you were so certain."

John shook his head as he took Helena's hand again, once more fingering her wedding ring. "You don't have to. I know."

He kissed her gently, then Helena settled into his arms again. She was happy to just have this time alone with John. It didn't happen often. Their work schedules, and the school and sports schedules of Preston and the twins allowed for very little alone time.

"I'm not complaining, John, and I love being here alone with you, but... what did you have to do to get Alex and Dinah to volunteer to take the boys today?"

John wrapped his arms around Helena more securely and smiled as she settled into them, her fingers gently caressing his arm under the sleeve of his tunic.

"Let's just say that being Commander and patriarch of the family has its advantages and leave it at that."

Helena turned in his arms so she could meet John's gaze. His eyes twinkled with amusement and satisfaction. She smiled slowly, suspiciously. "Does this come under the heading of 'I'm better off not knowing'?"

"Oh, perhaps not as dire as that. I simply gave Alex the choice of taking the boys today, when they had plans to take their own children to the beach anyway, or to take them at a later date, when it might not be so... convenient for their plans."

"You bullied him into it."

"Strongly suggested. I wanted some long overdue time alone with my wife and made the most of an opportunity that was about to present itself."

Helena smiled and kissed John. "As the wife in question, I have absolutely no objections. Please feel free to pull rank on our children as needed in the future."

"Is that a medical order?"

"Yes."

Koenig chuckled, enjoying the light kisses Helena was placing on his neck and face. He pulled her to him and they stretched out on the sun warmed rock. Helena raised up on an elbow far enough to meet John's gaze.

"I do love you, John."

"And I love you. Now, do you want to talk some more or do you want to neck?"

Helena's answer left no doubt in John's mind as to what she wanted to do. Their picnic lunch went untouched for a long while.

Why do they keep tinkering with this bloody place? thought Michael irritably as he walked through the corridors of Dover. Every time he came, he found that the corridors had been redecorated, the base expanded and all the amenities moved around. This time, it was the exercise room which had a big sign on it to indicate that it had been moved to Heathcliff Section I-15. Not that Michael was actually looking for the gym, but he noticed the sign in passing. He reflected that during the course of his lifetime, the school, the pub, the Med C. and the gym had all been shuffled around to different parts of the base at different times.

It was Tuesday evening and Mary had just about kicked Michael out of the flat for the night. He had only been there three days, and he knew he was already getting on Matthew's nerves. They just didn't have compatible personalities and Michael was in no mood to be conciliatory. He'd applied for a shared flat, thinking it would be safer to antagonise total strangers rather than his brother-in-law, but it seemed unlikely that he would find anything soon. That dink Josh Devers had chosen this same week to start a tour of duty with his umpteen children -- Michael had shared a trip on the Falcon with them -- and they got immediate priority over a single guy like Michael. Particularly since, to the computer, it looked as if Michael had a perfectly good place to stay, while the Devers were currently crammed into the Visitor's Section which was only designed for single people. Michael had been offered a room in the Visitor's Section too, but he wanted something more permanent. He'd have to go and see the allocation supervisor, and he wasn't looking forward to it: the person in charge of accommodation at Dover these days was Hester Soon-to-be-Verdeschi.

At least the pub was still where Michael had last left it. His sister had kept him informed of the change of management and staff, so he was fully prepared to face Salvatore for the first time in nearly two years.

Entering the pub was like walking into a time warp. His first impression was that nothing had changed. The people, the darts board, the pool table, the furniture itself -- all just as he remembered them. Kiri Garforth was still propping up the bar, Karim was still watching the girls dance while his wife Helena sat by like a forbidding black widow, Astrid and Patrick were still cleaning up at the pool table.

But closer observation revealed that, like the rest of Dover, the pub had been moving with the times. It had been redecorated à la Verdeschi and now called itself The White Cliffs -- how original. There were some different people here too. Aisha Ofori was evidently helping Kiri to prop up the bar. There were children Michael didn't recognise dancing near the music centre. Alex Koenig and his family were eating at the table near the Habibi's. And, of course, it was no longer big, jovial Ralph standing behind the bar but Salvatore Verdeschi.

Michael took a deep breath and strode confidently up to the bar.

"Hi," said Salvatore, as casually as if he was greeting an acquaintance he had last seen a minute ago. "Vodka and orange?"

"You remembered." Michael wasn't sure how to take that.

"I'm a born bartender," declared Salvatore, mixing the drink. He kept his eyes lowered, evidently not as comfortable with Michael's presence as he was trying to pretend.

Salvatore had changed. His skin was tanned, nearly obliterating the dark streaks on his cheeks. His hair was short, but just long enough for its natural curls to be apparent. And, of course, he was wearing plastic rimmed glasses, something Michael had not expected. But despite all the changes, Michael reflected that Sal was just as cute and sexy as ever. He still had those lovely long eyelashes and he was wearing a T-shirt that emphasised every aspect of his healthy torso and arms.

"I hear congratulations are in order," said Michael when Salvatore handed him the glass.

This time, Salvatore did look him in the eye with an awkward smile. "Thanks."

He seemed about to say something else, but then went back to whatever he was doing behind the counter. Leaning over slightly, Michael could see that Salvatore was chopping carrots.

"What's tonight's special?" he asked.

"Goulash. The capsicum harvest has just been processed, so I got a ton of paprika."

"Oh right."

Michael sipped his drink and wondered if he should look for someone else to talk to. He had a feeling that Salvatore might be embarrassed because he was soon to marry Michael's ex-girlfriend. And it was true that even though Michael had no feelings for Hester, he did feel somewhat ambivalent about his former friends' relationship. He felt jealous that they had become close because of his breakdown in Y31 and were going to end up married while he was still single.

"I hear you might be here to stay," he heard Salvatore ask.

"Maybe," answered Michael, turning back towards him. "Things didn't really work out off-world."

"Not even with PJ?"

Michael huffed contemptuously. "Don't talk to me about that prick! I thought we were doing fine and the next thing, he doesn't want to know me. I was too 'intense', apparently. The guy couldn't handle a relationship and now he wants to raise a kid. That should certainly keep any chance of a relationship at bay. What a wanker!"

"Well, he is if he isn't sleeping with anyone," said Salvatore with a mischievous grin. "I was surprised by the business with Melinda Harwood. Of course, we've heard all about it, since she's a Doverian. I don't know. I guess some people are in a hurry to get on the old bandwagon. Your friend Peter Potter is just one of them."

"Peter Potter," repeated Michael, taking pleasure from the silly name. "Yeah. He evidently decided that being a real homosexual was too much hard work, and decided to bandwagon instead. He probably thinks it'll make him more acceptable if he becomes Cadmin of Ceres."

"I always think that abbreviation 'Cadmin' doesn't make sense. Shouldn't it be 'Chadmin'? Anyway, I didn't know PJ was slated to take over from Johnson."

"It's nothing definite," admitted Michael. "Just a rumour. But it's bound to be a controversial appointment. Maybe PJ thinks having a kid like everyone else will make it easier."

Salvatore frowned uncomprehendingly. "I don't understand. I thought PJ was a good engineer. If he has some administrative abilities too, he'd probably do okay."

"Think about it, Sal. Of all the engineers on Ceres II, Andy picks some young guy who just happens to be a homosexual like him and who just happens to also be the brother-in-law of one of Koenig's sons. People are bound to wonder which of his qualifications or his family situation was the determining factor in his appointment."

"I hadn't thought of that. Karim will have nightmares when he finds out. He already thinks Alpha favours Ceres, and he'll be going over their transactions with a fine-tooth comb if the heads of the two centres are related. It might weaken Dover's political position, because Karim doesn't really have any personal ties to Alpha."

Michael took a sip of his drink and shook his head. "You've been talking to Delores Doherty again. Second-guessing people and seeing political machinations everywhere."

"It's something to do, right?" said Salvatore with a grin. "Mind you, I think Karim is cultivating his own ties with the Koenig family."

He nodded towards the Habibis and Koenigs. The two families were in great conversation, particularly Helena and Dinah. Their children were playing together in a corner. As he watched, Michael realised that some of the children in the group were neither Habibis nor Koenigs. They were the Devers children. Looking back to the Habibis' table, Michael could see that Josh Devers had joined them.

"There's someone I bet you haven't seen for a long time," he said, pointing the man out to Salvatore.

The bartender shrugged. "Not since yesterday. He came in to get some take-away biryani."

"No problems?"

"No. I suppose he's decided to pretend it never happened," said Salvatore unconcernedly. "That suits me fine. The last thing I want is recriminations when I'm about to get married. Four years is a long time. And I think I've more than paid my dues for that business."

"Have you told Hester about you and Hilly?"

"I didn't have to. It seems someone told her before me." Salvatore looked pointedly at Michael.

"Oh right, I suppose I must have told her when we were going out."

"Evidently. Anyway, Hester knows all about my sordid past."

Looking back at the group, Michael noticed that, as he was talking to Devers, Karim's eyes briefly drifted onto Salvatore.

"Looks as if she might not be the only one," said Michael.

"Well, we haven't discussed it, but I wouldn't be surprised if Karim knew. Karim knows everything. Everything he needs to know, that is. You can't run a busy place like this without being well informed."

"I suppose he knows a thing or two about marital infidelity as well. I hear he has quite an eye for the ladies."

Salvatore shook his head. "As far as I know, he's had one affair that everyone knows about now, and no more. I mean, have you looked at him? Having one affair in a lifetime doesn't make him a Don Juan."

"No, that's your domain," said Michael with a chuckle.

He was distracted as a young man walked up to the bar beside him. The man had dark skin and a long face, with familiar features that Michael couldn't quite place. He was lean and muscular with a confident demeanour which immediately awakened Michael's interest. Perhaps realising that Michael was observing him, the man turned and smiled at him. He also looked Michael over in a way that most men wouldn't do.

"Hi, Sal, do you have any of that cola stuff?" asked the stranger.

Salvatore shook his head. "Nope. Or to be precise, I have the syrup, but the machine that puts the fizz in is on the fritz. No fizzy drinks until the catering maintenance comes to have a look at it."

"Oh fiddle!" exclaimed the young man, rolling his eyes and waving his hands dramatically. "I'll have an iced coffee, then. And two Dover cocktails and a Bloody Mary."

"Coming up," said Salvatore. He lifted his hand to indicate that he had noticed Kiri also pointing to her empty glass. "I'll be back in a minute, Kiri."

He disappeared into the kitchen beyond the U-shaped bar. In his absence, Kiri casually leaned over the bar and reached for a bottle of something, which she emptied into her glass. She then leaned further to get the bottle of orange juice and refill Aisha Ofori's glass. Mrs Castellano was evidently on a no-alcohol diet.

Michael looked at the man beside him and tried to think of a conversation opener that wouldn't sound like a pick-up line.

"I haven't seen you around for a while," said the man suddenly.

"I've been gone a long time," answered Michael. The man evidently knew him; he tried to remember where they might have met.

He must have looked completely blank, because the young man grinned and held out his hand. "Ahmed Ofori. We have met, but it was a long time ago."

"Oh, of course," exclaimed Michael, embarrassed as he realised that the young man looked a lot like his little sister Fatuma. Not to mention that they had once worked together. "I'm sorry, I have a rotten memory for faces."

"I've changed a bit, too, I think. You're Mike Osgood aren't you? The spitting image of your sister Mary."

"Yeah. So what are you doing these days?"

"Working in the sewer," said Ahmed with a grin. "Well, sanitation and plumbing. Not the sort of job you get much regard for, but I got a nice little flat out of it, and it's a fascinating job once you get stuck into it."

Michael wondered if that was a pun. "Nothing wrong with sewage work," he said. "I'm in general-purpose engineering myself. I wanted to design Eagles but... things didn't work out."

He decided there was no need to tell Ahmed about the turn his life and ambitions had taken since Y31.

"You should try your hand at sanitation work," said Ahmed. "I'm serious. You'd be amazed the amount of plumbing and machinery that goes into stopping a place like Dover from reverting back to Earth's Middle Ages. Your sister's been working on some little remote controlled 'rats' and 'roaches' to go through the pipes to detect and repair leaks and stuff. Most of the old plumbing went behind the panelling in the Dover section, but nowadays, they put the pipes into rendered walls, because it's a lot easier to plaster a wall than build a frame across it and then put shermeen panels on it. Cloth has been requisitioned for clothing again because of the population surge anyway. So we now have pipes that you have to knock down walls to get to if something goes wrong. The rodents would save us a lot of work troubleshooting these problems. You should see if your sister needs help. She hasn't exactly given the project top priority, since she's working on fridge-freezers and private washing-machines as well. It'd be great if we had someone dedicated to our rodents to get the project finished faster."

"It sounds interesting," said Michael cautiously, though he couldn't see himself going from designing mining equipment to making 'rodents' for sewage pipes.

He thought that Ahmed seemed to be a singularly boring person, and he'd decided he had had enough of boring people. On the other hand, Ahmed was also good-looking, young and male. Michael thought he could put up with the boring bit if he could get the man into bed.

Salvatore had come back with all the drinks Ahmed had ordered. He also gave Kiri a dirty look, having no doubt noticed that she had helped herself to some of the drinks.

Ahmed took the tray from Salvatore. "I have to get back to my mates," he told Michael. "Why don't you join us?"

He nodded in the direction of a table at the back of the room. Michael recognised Chris Vincent and Matthew Collins, as well as Robert Sauique.

"In a minute, maybe," he said noncommittally.

Ahmed left with his tray. Michael turned to Salvatore, and knowing that the bartender had observed the whole scene, decided to be flippant.

"I think I'm in love," he said with a grin.

"You might be barking up the wrong tree," said Salvatore dubiously. "Ahmed used to go out with Aisha Habibi, remember?"

"And I used to go out with Hester." Michael noticed how Salvatore lowered his eyes and continued, "Seriously. Does he have a girlfriend?"

"Not right now, but he's had some in the past. I think there was some girl from Alpha... What makes you think he'd be interested?"

"I don't know. Some kind of signal... Like a vibe."

Salvatore chuckled. "Hey, I'm the only one in this room who gives out vibes."

"Maybe I should join them. I can always hope he won't turn out to be another PJ."

"Is PJ Potter really that bad?" asked Salvatore.

"Worse. He broke my heart, remember?"

"Oh, you'll get over it. There must be some other fish in the pond."

"Yeah. Not too many bona-fide homosexual ones, though," said Michael with a sigh. He finished his drink in one gulp. That made him feel a lot better. "I don't suppose we could clone you? You're just about as cute a mother as any gay guy would want in his bed. And most girls, too. You're going to break a lot of hearts when you get married."

"But not yours, hopefully." Salvatore looked worried.

"No, I've had plenty of time to get used to the idea you just don't like men. And I'm getting used to the idea that I do. Now if I can keep away from creeps like PJ who don't know what they want, I might get it right some day, and fancy someone who really fancies me."

He looked at Ahmed's table and wondered if it would be wise to take him up on his suggestion. An invitation to a drink with his mates was hardly a great come-on. Michael was sure at least one of the other men would know he was a homosexual, even assuming that Ahmed didn't, and it would be too obvious what he was hoping for if he went over for a drink with them.

"It's all so complicated," he said, shaking his head.

"Yeah... Still, it's fun once you get it right."

Michael assumed that Salvatore was thinking about his impending marriage to Hester.

"And you've got it right, yes?"

"Inch'allah. But yes, I think I have," said Salvatore. "Mike... I've been feeling, well, guilty about Hester and me. I know it must have seemed weird for you to see us go from being your friends, to being lovers. I don't want you to think we got together behind your back, as it were."

That was exactly what Michael thought had happened. But he realised he had no right to blame either of them. It wasn't his place to question their happiness.

"That's OK," he said.

He looked at Ahmed again, still undecided. He thought about PJ, and how perfect everything had seemed when they first got together. Michael had felt like the luckiest man in the universe; with such a small population in the solar system, the odds of a homosexual male finding a like-minded and congenial partner were very remote. For a while, it had seemed to Michael that he had beaten the odds, and that by the greatest of chances, he and the one other homosexual he knew of in his generation were both interested in each other. It had made even the shock and guilt he felt over the Carters' death evaporate.

But then everything had fallen apart. Michael had invested his entire emotional life into the relationship, while PJ kept him at a distance, often preferring to entertain his family in Michael's absence, as if his lover was some guilty secret. Their sex life became increasingly frustrating as well, since the list of things that PJ wouldn't do included just about every one of Michael's hitherto repressed fantasies. In some ways, it had been a relief when PJ suddenly broke it off. PJ thought Michael was too intense, and Michael thought PJ was boring.

He looked at Ahmed and wondered if he was ready for another boring lover, even assuming that the man might be interested. The odds of finding someone so soon after his return to Dover were very small.

"Go on," said Salvatore. "At worst you'll get a lecture on sewage. And at best, who knows? I don't know if you stand a chance or not. Ahmed has had girlfriends, but he hasn't settled down. It probably doesn't really mean anything. But maybe it does. Either way, I think you'll be better off talking to him than standing here wondering. Besides, you know Robert is always good for a laugh."

"Oh what the hell," exclaimed Michael. "Get me another drink and I'll go over there. I can always move back to Alpha if it all blows up in my face."