EPILOGUE

NEARLY ONE YEAR LATER

Greed. Anger. Hate.

The perfect trio who had created the world below.

Jahle gazed down on Geran from the cockpit of the craft. The ground flashed by in a blur of brown and gray. The wind buffeted the ship, pushing them forward. He reached out and steadied himself on the back of Eien’s seat as the ship trembled.

“Level her out,” Niest, the pilot said, her voice low. “You’re banking too far to the left. And relax.”

Eien nodded, his teeth gritted, and he loosened his grip on the yoke, dropping his shoulders. With an experienced pilot guiding him, Eien logged the necessary hours to earn his license.

“Keep breathing, Eien. If you don’t, you will pass out and we will crash. Try to keep us alive.” Niest checked the control panel. In the distance, nestled between barren hills, sat a bright spot of color. “We’re almost there. Prepare for approach.”

“I will inform the passengers,” Jahle said. While Eien had improved over the past few months, it always made Jahle slightly nervous watching the ground rush up to meet them.

In the back of the craft, the Garden People prepared. They checked their luggage while they chatted and laughed. He spotted a few Mechanists in the crowd, coming to fix the farming equipment. With settlers returning every month, the last year had been a blur of activity.

At Jahle’s approach, they stopped their chatting and looked up with wary eyes.

“We are almost at the South Bio-dome,” Jahle said to the head farmer.

His wrinkled face broke into a smile. “It will be good to see the old lands again, my lord.”

It had taken some doing, but using Kovos’s resources, Jahle had managed to track down nearly seven thousand of Geran’s refugees. They had been scattered across Ennoi territory, and even further out.

When word had spread that Geran’s new prince sought their assistance, citizens had returned. Not all, but enough to give Jahle hope. It would take a lot of work to regain their trust.

The money helped. Kovos had honored his promise to make reparations to Geran. Jahle was trying to use that money wisely in the only endeavor worth following: the rebirth of Geran.

The ship landed with a thump, and the Garden People hoisted their packs onto their backs, before streaming out of the open hatch. Heads down against the wind, they plodded to the airlock.

The head farmer bowed. “Thank you, Lord Jahle. It is a pleasure to return.”

“No,” said Jahle. “It is I who should thank you. It is a pleasure to have our people home.”

He clasped the man’s hand briefly, before waiting for Eien to join him. They stepped out into the shelter of the airlock, and headed into the bio-dome.

The howl of the wind dropped off and Eien scanned the sky. The clear material of the dome allowed an unrestricted view of the landscape beyond. “Another calm spell. They grow more common.”

“That means the Air People are getting the towers running,” Jahle replied.

The South Bio-dome bustled with activity. He nodded to a line of recent arrivals, who bowed to Jahle. Some of the children waved, but the adults kept their faces politely neutral. A few averted their eyes.

It takes time, he reminded himself. Do not take it to heart.

A lanky Ennoi man loped to Jahle’s side. “My Lord!”

“Parram,” Jahle said. “Walk with me. What news?”

The head steward of Kreebo bowed, then adjusted his tunic, flicking away imaginary dust motes. “The latest group of citizens have arrived on schedule. They are being processed and will be housed here until next week.”

“Excellent. Any issues?”

“Not with the farmers, though we did have a shipment arrive of Tourkian shamaths.”

Eien wrinkled his nose. “What are shamaths?”

“Herbivorous animals,” Jahle replied. “Supposed to keep down the weeds on the farm naturally. What is the issue?”

“We ordered fifty. We received just under three hundred.”

“Ah.” Jahle scratched his nose. “We can send some to the north dome. I am sure they have weeds, too.”

“Most certainly not this many, my lord.”

“Are the shamaths edible?”

“My lord! Each one cost four thousand credits!”

Jahle blanched. “And we were charged for three hundred of them?”

“No, praise the moon. The captain of the delivery vessel acknowledged it was his fault. They only charged us for the initial number, my lord.”

“Okay, so no eating the shamaths. Anything else?”

Parram smiled, his eyes twinkling. “It arrived, my lord.”

Jahle felt like a child when he extended his hand and bounced on his toes. “Let me see!”

Parram reached into his pocket and pulled out a black drawstring bag. He handed it to Jahle.

Jahle peered inside, and Eien craned his neck to peer over his shoulder. Jahle beamed when he saw the contents. “It is perfect, Parram. Where is Lady Melissa?”

“At the prefab, my lord.”

“Thank you, Parram. You are dismissed.”

“Thank you, my lord. And welcome home.”

Home.

He shot a glance and Eien, and saw he felt the same warmth in his heart at the term. Eien nodded. “I have to refuel the ship. Got another run before the sun sets. More builders to Kastik.”

Jahle grinned. “Niest still doesn’t trust you to fly at night?”

“I barely clipped the wing,” Eien grumbled. “That rock face came out of nowhere.”

Jahle clapped the young man on the shoulder. “I will see you for dinner.”

Eien hesitated. “Do not… do anything, okay? Wait until I’m home?”

“I will try,” Jahle said. “But I make no promises.”

He hopped onto a cart and rode down into the bio-dome. The large bubble contained acres of fertile soil, and with the Garden People back, the fields were lush with greenery and dotted with bright pollinator insects moving from plant to plant.

Trust. Hope. Love.

That is how we will rebuild Geran.

Rows of grain and staple vegetables ripened on the vine, and Ennoi dressed in plum and gray moved through the rows, plucking weeds and checking for parasites. Overhead, large panels filtered down artificial sunlight. As he watched, the panels shut off, letting the natural sunlight beam down.

Soon, we can dismantle the lights, and set up another dome. Maybe one that can grow fruit.

In the field, the gardeners sang as they worked. It seemed strange to hear so much noise. These days, even when the ground rumbled, one could barely hear it over people going about their daily activities. Plus, with the repairs to the tectonic dampeners underway, the earth didn’t move as much.

The further out he drove, the quieter it got, until he arrived at a cozy neighborhood. The houses were a collection of tents, huts and more permanent structures. Jahle nodded to a pair of workers lashing together panels to build a frame. In a week’s time, a family would occupy it. He stopped at a prefabricated cabin made of lightweight plastic planks.

Outside, several children played with a ball, kicking and punching it to each other. Jahle spotted Alay, his fingers in his mouth again. While Lyrr and Mokas had found homes on Cadam, little Alay refused to leave Eien. When Eien returned to Geran, Alay had too. The boys shared a house with Eien’s piloting mentor, Niest.

Alay swung his foot, sending the ball flying wildly. Jahle batted it back to the ground with his foot and then kicked it back.

“Get your fingers out of your mouth, Alay,” he called. “You cannot balance with only one free hand.”

The boy grinned, and tucked his hands behind his back.

Jahle opened the front door to his temporary home and sighed in relief. While it was still spartan, he and Mel had begun decorating the place, adding some embroidered tapestries from Cadam to the walls. Beside them hung a portrait of Jahle’s family. He paused to admire it. Jahle had stopped feeling a surge of anger when he saw Dogan’s youthful face beside Mikkil. Now, he mourned the brother he lost, as well as the brother he never really knew.

Mel looked up in surprise as he entered. She lowered her clipboard. A row of machines in front of her pulsed and blinked. “Hey, I thought you’d be gone longer.”

“I was gone all day,” he said, kissing her on the forehead. “Eien is slow.”

“He’s learning,” she said. She ducked around him to check the machines again. “Did you hear about the shamaths?”

He kissed her neck. “I do not wish to talk about shamaths.”

Mel sighed. “I do not wish to not talk. I’ve been cooped up all day.”

Jahle groaned.

“No, seriously, Jahle. You get to rush around, seeing people, solving problems, and I get to stay here and… and… stare at dials. I don’t even know what half of them mean.”

He rubbed her shoulders. “It is an important task.”

“It’s boring.” She pointed to the machines lining the wall. “I watch them. They beep. I press a button, they stop beeping. Then I watch some more.”

“We cannot afford to lose any more towers. The tremors hinder the repairs in progress. ”

“This was important, but is it now? The dampeners are working. No quakes over a three in months.” She sighed. “I want adventures, Jahle.”

He continued rubbing her shoulders. Slowly, they dropped, and she lowered her clipboard. She closed her eyes and made a happy sound of contentment. “That feels good.”

Jahle smiled. “You desire an adventure? I am happy to deliver.”

Mel cracked open one eye. “I’m listening…”

He took the clipboard from her hand and placed it on the table. He led her out of the house. She protested, but stopped when the sunlight hit her face. Their relationship had evolved. Mel was content to trust him, and in exchange, he prodded her less.

Jahle whistled for the children. He picked the oldest. “I have an important task for you. When the machine in there beeps, you press the button marked report. Understand?” He pointed to another child. “And you, go to the airlock and tell Parram to send a replacement for Lady Melissa.”

The child scurried off to find her scooter, and Mel groaned. “You’re saying a kid can replace me? That’s how useful I am?”

“You are irreplaceable, Lady Melissa.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“If I must tolerate being called Lord Jahle, you can tolerate being called Lady Melissa.” He steered her toward the vehicle. When she was strapped into the passenger seat, he kissed her and climbed into the driver’s seat. They took off.

“This isn’t the way to the airlock. Where are we going?” she asked.

“To the fifth quadrant,” he replied.

“The fifth?” She scratched her nose. “There’s nothing out there.”

He smiled. “There is plenty out there.”

“Adventure?”

“Wait and see.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder, and closed her eyes, letting the sun warm her face. When the crested the top of a hill, Jahle stopped the vehicle and leaned over the wheel.

“Look,” he whispered.

Mel followed his finger. Her eyes widened. She hopped out of her seat and walked to the edge of the rise.

Below, from the foot of the hill to the edge of the clear bio-dome, lay a field of deep purple flowers. Mel gasped. “They’re gorgeous! What are they?”

Jahle took her hand and led her down toward the flowers. “Tersun lilies.”

“Where did they come from? Is this legal?” Every plant and animal which entered the bio-dome had to be carefully monitored, so as not to upset the natural balance of the artificial ecology.

Jahle laughed. “I’m Ar’Geran. It is legal if I say so.” When he saw the look Mel shot him, he recanted. “I went through the Scientific Bureau. They are sticklers for protocol. I had to submit my application in triplicate, on two different color forms. They still took nearly six months to approve my request.”

“It’s gorgeous,” Mel sighed. She bent down and sniffed a flower, then wrinkled her nose. “Wow.”

“Ah, I should have mentioned. Pretty to look at, but a powerful scent meant to repel predators. They are known for their ability to protect the animals who nest within their roots. That is why they are Geran’s official flower.”

“Why are all these here?”

“For you,” he said. “For me. For my sister Trinni.” He paused. “For all the Geran. These bulbs will be transplanted to other bio-domes. To the city, once it is rebuilt. Even to Kreebo.”

He took her hand. “It is important that Geran not simply survive. I want Geran to thrive.”

She squeezed his hand. “Me too.”

“I want us to thrive here,” he said. He hesitated. “Eien asked me to wait, but…”

“But?”

He reached into his pocket and drew out the pouch. He placed it in her hands. “For you.”

Mel opened the drawstring and tipped out a brilliant blue jewel the size of her fist. The light glinted along its facets, sending sparks of blue across her skin. She picked it up, letting the silver chain of the attached necklace dangle. Her eyes widened. “Wowza. That’s gorgeous. Is it for me?”

Jahle plucked it from her fingers and fastened the clasp around her neck. “It is for you.”

She turned the stone this way and that, watching the scattered specks of gold and purple inside dance. “Thank you, Jahle. It’s beautiful.”

“Do you know what it is?”

“A lumi?”

“One of the first lumi mined from Geran since the evacuation. I had it sent to Cadam for polishing and shaping. But that is not what it is.”

She forced her eyes away from the shiny bauble and looked into Jahle’s ruby eyes. “It’s a Promise Stone. Jenna has one.”

“Yes. It is a promise that no matter what happens, I am yours.” He wrapped his arms around her. “No matter where you go, no matter what you encounter, you will never be alone. I will always be with you. One way or another.”

He tucked his nose into her head and breathed her in, trying to hold on to the moment of quietude. When they returned to their tiny house, they would be inundated with everyday problems. Taking a barren rock and turning it into a home for millions was a difficult process, full of pitfalls.

He and Mel barely saw each other anymore.

They would have to arrange for travel back to Cadam to witness the Alignment. With Jenna heavily pregnant, Mel wanted to stay until after the baby’s birth. Which meant either he could take a vacation and worry constantly about Geran, or he could return home alone, and worry constantly about Mel.

Plus, there were those extra shamaths to figure out.

Maybe we could eat them and just not tell Parram.

But all else could wait. For now, it was just the two of them.

“Jahle,” Mel whispered. “I think I might be pregnant.”