Dawnwind 1: Last Man Standing (31 page)

In the pool, the cleric had unwound his scarf and was using it to tie bride and groom together, binding the scarf around their hips.
 
Iseta’s eyes were modestly downcast, but there was a smile playing around the corner of her mouth.
 
Imisu, from what John could see, appeared enthusiastic.
 

The cleric made the ritual intonations and the respective families closed tight around the couple, the bridal family on the inside of the circle, the groom’s family facing away from them.
 
Within the press of bodies, the cleric tossed back his head and shouted something to the rooftop in the language of the gods.

The bride’s family turned away from the couple, who were locked in a happy clench, and reached for the groom’s party.
 
They tore the stiff white mourning robes away, exposing festive garments concealed beneath.

The ceremony finished, the wedding guests surged into the pool, shouting congratulations and blessings.
 
Discreetly, the cleric faded into the background.
 
Illuminators, concealed beneath the lip of the dome, brightened.
 
The temple’s outer doors opened and the wedding party was swept out of the building, across the pontoon bridge and into the reception hall, where the party began in earnest.

* * * * *

 
There was a long line of guests waiting to offer congratulations to the newlyweds, who were ensconced in a small chair together.
 
It was a tight fit, but neither Imisu nor Iseta appeared to mind very much.
 
They sat with their arms draped across each other’s shoulders, hip-to-hip and rib to rib.
 
The couple wore pastel-colored robes of lavender, blue and green.
 
Iseta had rimmed her eyes with dark blue eyepaint; Imisu had done the same thing, albeit with green.

“John!”

They clasped his hands as he presented himself before them.
 

“We didn’t think you were going to make it!” said Iseta.

“But we’re so happy you did!” added Imisu.

His new wife nodded, beaming.
 
John wondered if they were able to finish each other’s thoughts.

“I was able to catch a transport at the last minute,” said John.
 
He reached into his overrobe and pulled out a small, glass bottle.
 
“And, I’ve brought you a wedding present.”

Imisu accepted the bottle, peered at it.
 
“Is it perfume?”

“It’s water from a shrine on Illuminated Mountain.
 
The clerics there believe it promotes happiness and fertility.”
 

“Does it?”

“Drink it tonight and let me know later.”

Imisu grinned.

“Will you be staying on Juni long?” asked Iseta.
 
“Aunt Olu said you’d been made an Eighth Officer already.”

“I’m only here for a few days,” admitted John.
 
 
“Attending your wedding, and Medic Sufo’s retirement banquet.”

Imisu blinked.
 
“Old Sufo’s retiring?
 
I hadn’t heard!”

John nodded.
 
“The rumor is he’s going to immigrate to one of the Colonies.”

“That sounds like something he’d do.”

The person behind him was getting restless, so John touched the couples’ hands.
 
“Blessings to you both.
 
I’ll talk with you later.”

* * * * *

Olu latched onto John as soon as he’d left the happy couple.
 
She had removed the heavy ceremonial eyepaint and replaced it with her usual, discreet cosmetics.
 
The stiff, formal robes had also been cast off, in favor of a semi-opaque dayrobe of green and purple.

“How did you like the wedding?”

“It was interesting,” said John.
 
“Iseta looked beautiful.”

Olu nodded.
 
“She’s gotten much more confident since she and Imisu announced their plans to marry.”
 
The woman sounded oddly wistful.

“That’s good, isn’t it?”

“It’s wonderful,” said Olu.
 

“But?”

“Weddings make me bittersweet.”
 
She lowered her voice.
 
“I never had a formal ceremony like this.”

“Oh?”

“No.
 
Some of my family didn’t approve of Vesu.”
 
She snorted.
 
“They thought I was marrying beneath me, so they refused to attend.”

“Did you want a big wedding?”

“I had plans for one, but when I couldn’t get a family quorum together, those plans went out the window.”
 
Olu shrugged.
 
“Not that it matters. Many people don’t have traditional weddings.
 
And it’s the marriage that matters, not the ceremony.”

“But you wanted a big wedding.”

“Yes,” she admitted.

“Why not have one now?”

Olu’s brow furrowed.
 
“Because Vesu and I are already married.”

“Don’t Junians ever renew their wedding vows?”

She looked at him, startled.
 
“What an odd idea.”

John shrugged.
 
“Maybe you should consider it.
 
You could start a new trend.”

Olu laughed, and tightened her grip on his arm.
 
“I’ve missed you, John.
 
You and your odd ideas.”

He grinned, patted her hand.
 
“And I’ve missed you and Vesu.
 
Where is Vesu?
 
Still fasting?”

“Sweet pantheon, no.
 
He’s at the buffet, making up for lost time.”

John’s stomach grumbled.
 
“Let’s join him.”

* * * * *

Vesu was seated at a table, working his way through a huge plate of food.
 
When Olu and John found him, he paused with a spoon halfway to his mouth.
 
Laughing, he stood and embraced the younger man.

“You made it after all!”

Vesu had removed his own ritual makeup, although there were still grayish-blue smears at his ear and throat.
 
He had changed into a blue and green dayrobe that was stretched taut across his ample belly.
 
His eyepaint was barely visible, a smear of bright gold under each eye.

Turning, Vesu waved at another occupant of the table.
 
“John, do you remember Ito Nop?”

The young woman who stood had yellow hair, so dark, that it was almost the color of mustard.
 
She smiled, a bit nervously, and smoothed her hands over the dark purple dayrobe she wore before greeting John.

John brushed her fingers, thought he felt her tremble.
 
“How are you, Miss Nop?”

“Please, call me Ito.”

“Ito is living with us,” said Olu.
 
She smiled kindly at the girl, who sank back down into her chair.

“Really? How nice.
 
Are you still studying economics?”

“Oh. No. I decided to switch to something a little more practical.”

“Ito is working on a degree in communications,” said Olu.
 
“She’s almost finished.”

“Only nine more months to go,” said the girl.

“She’s a prodigy,” said Vesu, beaming.
 
“Her solo assertion has already got her an internship at the Communications Authority.”

“We’re very proud of her,” said Olu.

“Congratulations,” said John.
 
“That’s very impressive.”

Ito lowered her head and curved her fingers to hide their scarlet tips.
 
“Oh! It’s nothing. Really!
 
I’m sure it’s nowhere near as impressive as being promoted from a Ninth to an Eighth Officer during the same tour.”

John grinned at Olu.
 
“Someone’s been telling tales.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” said Olu.
 
But her eyes crinkled with mischief and the corners of her mouth twitched.

“Sit,” said Vesu.
 
He waved them toward empty spaces at the table.
 
“Tell us about it, John.”

He obeyed, sliding into a vacant seat next to Ito.
 
 
“There’s nothing to it, really.
 
Eighth Officer Ahavo decided she didn’t like being in command.
 
So, she resigned and First Officer Nezu promoted me. It happens all the time.”

“What did you decide to specialize in?” asked Vesu.
 

“Actually, I’m still floating.”

Vesu looked puzzled.
 
“I thought Guard officers had to specialize?”

“No, not according to protocol.
 
First Officer Kitos did the same thing.”

“Do you still keep in touch with the crew from the
Undaunted Spirit
?” asked Olu.

“A few,”’ said John.
 
“Jata Fex.
 
First Officer Kitos.
 
A few others.
 
As a matter of fact, I’ll be going to First Medic Sufo’s retirement banquet later on this week.”

“Good,” said Olu.
 
“For a while there, John, you were isolating yourself so thoroughly that we were worried you might do something foolish.”

He said nothing, just reached across the table and took her hand.
 
“I’m glad Lewij was able to convince you that wasn’t going to happen.”

“She never explained how she knew so much about what was happening with you,” chided Vesu.
 
“It was actually very irritating.”

“Lewij had her methods,” said John.
 
“I should probably visit her while I’m here.”

“Oh. She’s not at the Institute any longer.”

“She isn’t?”

Vesu shook his head.
 
“No.
 
She retired to a cloistered devotee community.
 
Somewhere in Polumet Province, I think.”

“Poor woman,” murmured Olu.

“Imiro wouldn’t want pity,” scolded Vesu.
 
“She lived a full, productive life and she knew this time would come eventually.”

John frowned at them.
 
“You’re talking about her as if she’s dead.”

“She may as well be,” said Ito.

“I don’t understand.”

Ito looked startled.
 
“You don’t know about the devotees?”

“Not everything is available on the public infobase,” explained John.

Olu shook her head.
 
“This is not the appropriate time or place for this subject.”

“But, Olu, if John wants to know. . . .”

“We’ll discuss it later, Ito,” said Olu.
 
“At home, in private.”

“That’s fine with me,” said John.
 
“Right now, I’m going to grab a plate and a glass, and raid the buffet table.”

Vesu grinned.
 
“I’ll come with!”

* * * * *

 
The timelines in the reception hall were shifting from yellow to green when the staff began to clear the rooms.
 
The newlyweds were happily escorted to a hired transport and whisked away to Mitasi Dov.
 
Afterwards, the wedding guests piled into reserved groundcars and scattered to their respective homes until the evening celebrations.

John accompanied Olu, Vesu and Ito back to the house.
 
They sat around the kitchen table, as Olu served cups of chilled orange tea.
 
Vesu used his to wash down a handful of health pills.

“I think I may have overdone it at the party,” he admitted.