Jenna Starborn (36 page)

“I don't believe I've ever been in this bus. How many will it seat?”

“Oh, ten or twenty people! Sometimes the miners take it into town for a little holiday. Mr. Ravenbeck was not happy that you were to ride in the bus, for he said it was probably dirty, but Mr. Soshone promised to clean it very, very well, and Mrs. Farraday looked it over yesterday just to be sure. And anyway, you cannot ride in the aeromobile, because Mr. Ravenbeck is not to see you. But you can ride with him on the way back. He was very plain about that.”

I smiled. “Who is Mr. Soshone?”

“He is the assistant mine supervisor. He and his wife and Mr. Cartell and his wife will all be coming to the wedding.”

“Yes, Mr. Cartell's name I knew. So in the van it will be you and me, and Rinda and Genevieve and Mary, and the Cartells and the Soshones? One of the men will fly the van, I suppose. Yes, Ameletta, certainly I will want you with me in the bus. Rinda and Mary are very quiet these days, and I do not know the others at all. I will need a friend to hold my hand and remind me to breathe.”

“Well, I shall always be your friend, Miss Starborn,” Ameletta said, patting me on the arm. “Don't you worry about that.”

We had agreed to leave the manor house at ten in the morning, which would get us into the spaceport right around noon. The ceremony would only take fifteen minutes or so, and then Everett had made reservations for us to have a sumptuous bridal banquet at one of the more expensive restaurants in town. I thought this would be a lovely treat for the guests and a warm memory for me as I set off for a new, unfamiliar life.

For Everett and I were to leave Fieldstar a few short hours after the ceremony. My luggage and Everett's would be loaded onto the estate bus; after the meal, the whole small caravan would make its way into the docking area of the spaceport, where our bags would be transferred to Everett's private cruiser. Then we would wave good-bye and climb aboard the space-going craft, and my new life would truly begin.

I found it almost impossible to believe. And yet I longed for it so intensely that at times I felt faint. I had not been entirely joking when I told Ameletta she would have to remind me to breathe.

Ameletta and I were still talking over my breakfast tray when Mrs. Farraday came bustling in. She was dressed in a handsome burgundy pantsuit and had done her hair and makeup with care, and she looked just as proud and maternal as the mother I would wish to have with me on such a day.

“Heavens, are you two still eating? I had hoped to find you halfway dressed by now,” she exclaimed.

“I must run to my room and get my clothes!” Ameletta cried. “I will be back oh so quickly!” And she dashed out the door.

I rose to my feet, smiling. “It will not take me long to dress, never fear. We will be ready in time.”

“I have insisted Mr. Ravenbeck wait for me at the back entrance, for we don't want him catching a glimpse of you as you come down the stairs,” Mrs. Farraday said. She was at my closet door already, and she reverently pulled out the ivory-colored satin dress. “There, now. Isn't that pretty? I can't believe that child picked it out for you.”

“I can't believe I am ever in my life wearing anything so beautiful.”

“And you will look beautiful in it.”

Ameletta returned, breathless, her own clothing thrown over her arm. She was to wear a delicate blue outfit of some sort of floating lace that created a kind of turquoise bubble about her when she moved. It sounds quite odd, I know, but the effect was charming; she looked like a fairy out of legend come drifting down to the planet to bestow good wishes. She had purchased this ensemble during our last trip to town and had been almost unable to endure the wait until she could wear it.

“I am here!” she announced. “Let us get ready!”

Mrs. Farraday frowned, but I laughed, and soon enough we were both busily engaged in beautifying ourselves. My hair required very little more than a quick brush and an application of modeling spray once the headpiece was in place. My cosmetics required a bit more time. I allowed Mrs. Farraday to do the painting, for I had rarely applied makeup before and had no real idea how to go about it. When she was done, I gazed at myself in the mirror for a few moments, quite astonished. My eyes looked much larger than usual, liquid and unfathomable; my cheekbones had acquired enough prominence to make me remember I actually had them; and my mouth looked full enough to kiss.

“Gracious,” I said faintly. “Had I known you could make me look this beautiful, I would have come to you for help much sooner.”

Mrs. Farraday smiled. “I will teach you how to apply your own makeup, and once you practice a while, you will find it quite easy. Do not forget you will need to look your best in your new life.”

“I always try to look my best,” Ameletta said, and we glanced over to see her studiously brushing rouge onto her own fair cheeks. My mouth dropped open and Mrs. Farraday gasped.

“Ameletta! Stop that this instant!” the seneschal cried, stalking over and whisking the brush from the little girl's hand. “You are much too young to be wearing cosmetics! For shame!”

Ameletta looked up at us, big eyes luminous with tears, the rather skillfully applied makeup turning her child's face into something much older than it should be. “But I want to look beautiful for Miss Starborn's wedding!”

“You will look beautiful enough in your own skin, missy, and don't you start to argue with me!”

But of course it was not an argument we got, but tears, and it took the two of us the better part of ten minutes to calm her down, convince her that we were serious, and convince her that a child's most exquisite ornament was her clear, natural complexion and fresh, unused skin.

“But I don't want to be a child!” she sobbed into my arms. “I want to be a woman—and have lots of clothes—and wear whatever I feel like—”

I kissed her on the top of her head and tried not to laugh, though Mrs. Farraday did not show much patience for this exhibition. “You will be a woman so quickly you will wonder how it happened,” I whispered into her ear. “Be a child for as long as you can, chiya.”

This little diversion took more time than we'd expected, so once we had Ameletta composed, we had to hurry to finish dressing me. Luckily there was little left for me to do but put on my expensive silken undergarments, step into my high-heeled shoes, and stand still so that Mrs. Farraday could carefully lower my wedding gown over my head. Then the housekeeper fastened the buttons in the back while Ameletta fastened the ones on the sleeves—and I was dressed.

“Oh, Jenna,” Mrs. Farraday said, coming around to view me from the front. “Oh, child, don't you look lovely. I couldn't be prouder if you were my own girl.”

I pivoted to gaze at myself in the mirror one more time. I am not one to brag about myself, and I know that my physical beauty is not impressive—and I know that physical beauty is fleeting and worthless in any case—but, Reeder, I did look beautiful at that hour. My face, my hair, my gown, and my happiness all combined to give me a look of rare magnificence. I looked like a small queen ready to set sail on the journey of her life.

“Ladies, I believe we're ready to go,” I said in a remarkably firm voice. “Mrs. Farraday, you go on ahead and find Mr. Ravenbeck, and make sure the two of you are instantly in motion. Ameletta, in a few minutes you and I will go downstairs.”

Very shortly, we were on our way. The estate bus—a rather modest, utilitarian vehicle—had been garlanded with white ribbon and nosegays of white flowers that had no scent. The Cartells and the Soshones were dressed in their excruciating best. They were ordinary, plain-featured folk who did not look at all comfortable in their fancy clothes, but they greeted me with respect and sincerity and thanked me for inviting them to my wedding. I liked all of them at once and wished I had had a chance to get to know them before this day. Even Mary and Rinda and Genevieve, so distant these past days, greeted me with smiles and shy embraces.

I was installed in a cushioned seat that had clearly been fixed up just for me, for an arrangement of ribbon had been erected over this one chair to create a sort of makeshift bower. The others climbed in and situated themselves, and then Mr. Soshone took off for the airlock. Once we were free of the manor, he accelerated to a good pace, and we were on our way to town. This “bus” did not ride as smoothly as Everett's Vandeventer, but it was much less noisy and more comfortable than the public shuttle, and I did not see a speck of dirt. Mrs. Farraday's diligence, I was sure.

As promised, Ameletta sat beside me and held my hand. She chattered quite unself-consciously during the whole of the ride, discussing what she would do with her time while I was on my honeymoon and how friendly she would be to the interim tutor who was to arrive in two days. “I will show her all my treasures and let her play with my dolls, but only if I like her. If I do not like her, I will not do any of the homework she assigns me, and I will not talk to her either.”

“That is not a very nice attitude, Ameletta,” I said.

“But I will probably like her,” she added hastily. “Why, I nearly always like everybody. Are you remembering to breathe, Miss Starborn? You said I was to remind you.”

I took a deep breath and exhaled it loudly. “No, I had quite forgotten. Thank you, Ameletta!”

She giggled and returned to her prattling. In just under two hours, we had come into sight of the spaceport's silver spires. The air above the town was thick with incoming traffic, bright sleek arrows suspended above the terrain or making slow spirals downward. The invisible dome that protected the whole city from the outer vacuum seemed, on this special day, almost perceptible; I fancied I could detect a chrome-colored veil flung over the spindly buildings, dancing with reflected light. But then, everything seemed brushed with opalescence—the buildings before us, the cruisers above us—even the sun, usually so sullen in Fieldstar's sky, seemed to shimmer with a golden munificence. The world not only smiled upon me, it sparkled for me; it blessed me with its silent effervescence.

“Are you breathing, Miss Starborn?”

“Yes, Ameletta, I am.”

Finally we pulled up in front of a squat, unattractive building that appeared to have been constructed of mud bricks, and we all disembarked. I felt myself moving as in a dream; never had reality seemed so unlikely. I wished with all my heart that Mrs. Farraday or—for so many reasons!—Janet Ayerson were beside me, but I had no real solace except Ameletta, and I clung to her as we entered. Mrs. Soshone went to the information terminal and requested information; its automated voice told us which elevator and which hallway to use. By now I was fairly faint with fright and anticipation, and I could only follow the others as they set off down the corridor toward the elevators.

We were lifted in a quick sickening lurch up several stories—I could not count—but once the doors opened onto our designated floor, I was relieved beyond measure to see Mrs. Farraday awaiting us.

“There you are, Jenna! We were beginning to wonder if you were lost. Mr. Ravenbeck has been so impatient! But I assured him everything was fine. Are you ready? Do you need a moment to compose yourself?”

“A moment,” I said faintly.

She shooed the others down the hall, which was wider and more brightly lit than I had expected from the exterior of the building, and talked to me so cheerfully for a few moments that I began to regain some of my equilibrium.

“I don't know exactly what has come over me,” I said, fanning myself with my hand as if that would do any good at all. “I am so happy! And yet just as we pulled up in front of the Registry Office, I began to feel as if I could not move or breathe or think—”

“Yes, the exact same thing happened to me,” she said briskly. “I believe it is required of a bride. Your wedding completely changes the direction of your life, you know, no matter how greatly you desire it. I think that moment of doubt and faintness comes from all those imagined and now impossible futures all pressing in on you at once. It is your last chance to experience them, you see, and they all want to be lived at that moment.”

This fanciful analysis from the so-practical Mrs. Farraday made me laugh out loud, which for the most part restored me to myself. I was still a bit shaky, but my limbs seemed to have regained their normal function, and my lungs appeared capable of inhaling and exhaling without a direct command from me.

“Is our room prepared?” I asked, taking her arm.

“Everything is ready,” she said.

“Then let us proceed.”

A few short steps and we entered the room that was to be my wedding chapel. I took a brief, comprehensive look around. It was painted white, and filled with white cushioned chairs, and hung with white curtains, and so it seemed lit with an internal radiance that was very appropriate to the circumstances. Our small coterie of friends had gathered in the front few rows of seats, near to the dark-paneled podium that would appear to serve a multitude of uses. Everett Ravenbeck was standing right before this lectern, staring with some impatience at the doorway. Beside him stood a small, gray-haired man with a pleasant demeanor and a book in his hand.

Everett's face lightened at the sight of me and added its own considerable radiance to the room. “Ah!” was all he said, but it was so heartfelt that it made me smile. I continued to cling to Mrs. Farraday as we walked slowly down the aisle between the rows of seats. When we reached Everett's side, she rather ceremoniously transferred my hand to his, and took her seat somewhere behind us.

“Miss Starborn, I take it?” the registrar asked me in a kind way. Up close, he looked older than seventy, weary and wise, and I liked the sound of his voice.