She watches me with eyes half lidded. All around us the looms clack softly, and the other women peer sideways at us over their handwork.
Finally Soli’s mother nods. “Right so, then.”
I let the air out of my lungs. I’ve passed. The other women return their attention to their weaving and murmured conversations. Soli rises and picks her way to me. My jaw drops. Soli’s long red skirt swells over a soft, rounded lump at her waist. She’s gotten herself pregnant.
“Soli, when? Who?” I grab her hand as she eases down beside me. I want to throw my arms around her, I’ve missed her so, but the older women wouldn’t stand for such a display. I settle for squeezing her hand tighter. “Tell me everything.”
“Let me hold your thread for you, sister,” Soli says aloud, but her face is bright to bursting with news, her cheeks flush. She leans close as she unwinds the skein. “His name’s Ready, the requisitions officer. We had our binding close on half a turn past.”
I glance down. I’ve seen lots of women pregnant on the Parastrata, and even some births. Soli looks too far gone for half a turn. “That’s some fast.”
Soli giggles, sounding a moment like the smallgirl I remember. “But I got my pick, didn’t I? That we have to talk on later, without all these stuffed-up oldgirls hanging round.”
“He’s nice?” I ask. I stop my weaving and look up. “He’s not old, is he?”
“Nah.” Soli shakes her head. “Only five turns older. Perfect.”
“Oh.” I look down.
Soli nudges me. “Don’t chew on it. Talk I hear says you’re getting an even younger one.” Soli’s eyes shine so I almost think they’re wet.
“How’d you . . . ,” I start to ask.
“Come, Ava, it’s clear as empty you’re still sweet on Luck,” Soli says. “And he’s sweet on you, too. Couldn’t stop staring at you on the dock today.”
That rush of heat sweeps through me again, and I fumble with my thread. If only my bridal bands weren’t making me so slow and clumsy.
“Think, you’ll be my sister and our babies can play together.”
The warmth changes to pure fire in my cheeks. They say a baby makes a new, small world all your own, and then the Earth will stop calling to you. That’s what I want, but . . . But I’ve only begun fixing the idea of being a wife in my head, trying on Luck’s face as the man snapping the coins from my bridal veil, the inside of Luck’s wrist bound to mine. And now babies. Of course I knew that would come. It’s what my body is made for, but . . . Soli’s belly stares at me. It’s one more piece too real. And it makes me some uneasy the way things are raveling up exactly how I dreamed, and so fast. It makes me worry I’ve left something out.
Soli and me lie face-to-face on her bunk in the women’s quarters. It’s not something married girls usually do, but all the Æther women know we were friends as smallgirls, and what with me about to be married, they’re willing to let us pretend we’re children a few nights longer. The air blows cool and fresh through the vents, and the dimmers carry us gently into ship’s night.
“Ready’s some strong,” Soli whispers under the blankets. She lies on her back with her head turned to me. “He can pick me up, even with the baby, and he’s always slipping me nice things from requisitions. Like the other day, he gave Hydroponics some extra grams of nutrient soak, and they held back an orange for him, so he gave it to me.”
I suck my bottom lip. My father gave me a slice of orange once when I was a smallgirl, and even now I can taste the sweet bite under my tongue. “Did your father pick him for you?” I ask.
Soli shakes her head and grins. “Ready and I picked each other.”
I raise my eyebrows and open my eyes wide, trying to make out her face in the near dark. Crewes hardly ever let a love match through, especially when it’s the captain’s daughter up for marriage and her husband might end up heir to the captaincy.
“How’d you fix it?” I ask.
Soli runs a hand over her belly. “I let them catch me.”
“What?” My voice rings out.
“Hsshh.” One of the older women shushes from the bunk below us.
Soli drops her voice even lower. “I’ve seen girls do it before. I had already got the baby, and I knew some sure my father wouldn’t drop me on a port somewhere or let me go around the ship unmarried. So the next time I was in the cleanroom, I let my mother catch sight of me and of course she went and told my father. He called us into the meet room. Then Ready, he confessed it in front of everyone, and they had us bound the next day.”
“Wasn’t your father angry?” I ask.
“Some sure.” Soli picks at the inside of the blanket. “He wanted to push Ready out the airlock at first, but then he decided he’d rather have a legitimate grandchild, so he only had him flogged after the binding instead.”
“Soli,” I whisper, not sure what else to say.
“I got my way, didn’t I?” She turns her head to me.
I nod. Soli strokes her belly absentmindedly.
“What about Ready?” I ask. “What if he comes calling for you tonight?”
“He won’t,” Soli says, eyes still closed. “Not till after the baby’s born and I’m healed up.”
“Does it hurt?” I ask.
“What, having a baby? I’m guessing so from all the screaming the other girls do.”
“No,” I say. “The other thing.”
“Oh.” Soli rolls heavily on her side to face me. “At first, but not so bad if he’s careful. And it’s much better after that. Are you worried?”
I tuck my chin into my chest and hug my arms. I nod.
“Don’t.” She rubs my arm. “When we heard you were coming as a bride, I figured you might be for Luck, so I told him how he’d better not hurt you or I’d break all his toes. He’ll be careful. You’ll see.”
I smile at her, even though we can barely make out the whites of each other’s teeth in the close dark. Soli rolls on her back again, and I turn to the wall. She’s asleep in a few slips, her breath falling slow and regular. I lie awake, rubbing the smooth surface of my data pendant. Iri and Hannah snore lightly in the bunk below us. Some of the smallgirls whisper and break out in patters of giggles, but those peter out too, leaving only breath and the lulling hum of the air scrubbers.
I sit up. The heat coming off Soli is too much, even with cool air wafting in on us through the ventilation slits. I slide to the bottom of the bunk and sit there, my legs dangling with the extra weight of my bands. The air is wonderful fresh. It brings me awake, makes me almost giddy. I glance around at the other women in their bunks. How can anyone sleep with the air so pure? How can they expect me to sleep? My new home is beckoning me. There are rooms to explore, corridors and serviceways to memorize. And as much as it shames me to say it, I want to put some distance between myself and Soli’s belly.