Once they were sure that they were slowing down, the pilgrims had to decide what it meant and what to do next. They queried the library and, as far as they could tell, the Godspeed had announced every scan and course change she had ever made. In over a thousand years the only times she had ever decelerated was when she had targeted a new planet. There was no precedent for what was happening and her silence about it scared them. They waited, dissembled as best they could, and desperately hoped that someone back home would notice that something was wrong.
Weeks passed. A month. Two months.
Jonman maintained that there could be only two possible explanations: the Godspeed must either be falsifying its navigation reports or it had cut all contact with the Continuum. Either way, he argued, they must continue to wait. Upwood’s pilgrimage was almost over, he was scheduled to go home in another two weeks. If the Godspeed let him make the jump, then their troubles were over. Hours, or at the most a day, after he reported the anomaly, techs would swarm the transport stage. If she didn’t let him make the jump, then at least they would know where they stood. Nobody mentioned a third outcome, although Upwood clearly understood that there was a risk that the Godspeed might kill or twist him during transport and make it look like an accident. Flawed jumps were extremely rare but not impossible. Upwood had lost almost five kilos by the day he climbed onto the transport stage. His chest was a washboard of ribs and his eyes were sunken. The other pilgrims watched in hope and horror as he faded into wisps of probability and was gone.
Five days passed. On the sixth day, the Godspeed announced that they would be joined by a new pilgrim. A week after Upwood’s departure, Adel Ranger Santos was assembled on the transport stage.
Sister was horribly miscast as Miranda. Adel thought she would have made a better Caliban, especially since he was Ferdinand. In the script, Miranda was supposed to fall madly in love with Ferdinand, but Sister was unable to summon even a smile for Adel, much less passion. He might as well have been an old sock as the love of her life.
Adel knew why the Godspeed had chosen The Tempest; she wanted to play Prospero. She’d cast Meri as Ariel and Kamilah as Caliban. Jonman and Robman were Trinculo and Stephano and along with Jarek also took the parts of the various other lesser lords and sons and brothers and sailors. Adel found it a very complicated play, even for Shakespeare.
“I am a fool,” said Sister, “to weep when I am glad.” She delivered the line like someone hitting the same note on a keyboard again and again.
Adel had a whisperer feeding him lines. “Why do you weep?”
“Stop there.” The Godspeed waved her magic staff. She was directing the scene in costume. Prospero wore a full-length opalescent cape with fur trim, a black undertunic and a small silver crown. “Nobody says ‘weep’ anymore.” She had been rewriting the play ever since they started rehearsing. “Adel, have you ever said ‘weep’ in your life?”
“No,” said Adel miserably. He was hungry and was certain he would starve to death before they got through this scene.
“Then neither should Ferdinand. Let’s change ‘weep’ to ‘cry.’ Say the line, Ferdinand.”
Adel said, “Why do you cry?”
“No.” She shut her eyes. “No, that’s not right either.” Her brow wrinkled. “Try ‘why are you crying?’ “
“Why are you crying?” said Adel.
“Much better.” She clapped hands once. “I know the script is a classic but after three thousand years some of these lines are dusty. Miranda, give me ‘I am a fool’ with the change.”
“I am a fool,” she said, “to cry when I am glad.”
“Why are you crying?”
“Because I’m not worthy. I dare not even offer myself to you—much less ask you to love me.” Here the Godspeed had directed her to put her arms on Adel’s shoulders. “But the more I try to hide my feelings, the more they show.”
As they gazed at each other, Adel thought he did see a glimmer of something in Sister’s eyes. Probably nausea.
“So no more pretending.” Sister knelt awkwardly and gazed up at him. “If you want to marry me, I’ll be your wife.” She lowered her head, but forgot again to cheat toward the house, so that she delivered the next line to the floor. “If not, I’ll live as a virgin the rest of my life, in love with nobody but you.”
“We can’t hear you, Miranda,” said the Godspeed.
Sister tilted her head to the side and finished the speech. “You don’t even have to talk to me if you don’t want. Makes no difference. I’ll always be there for you.”
“Ferdinand,” the Godspeed murmured, “she’s just made you the happiest man in the world.”
Adel pulled her to her feet. “Darling, you make me feel so humble.”
“So then you’ll be my husband?”
“Sure,” he said. “My heart is willing…” he laid his hand against his chest, “…and here’s my hand.” Adel extended his arm.
“And here’s mine with my heart in it.” She slid her fingers across his palm, her touch cool and feathery.
“And,” prompted the Godspeed. “And?”
With a sigh, Sister turned her face up toward his. Her eyelids fluttered closed. Adel stooped over her. The first time he had played this scene, she had so clearly not wanted to be kissed that he had just brushed his lips against her thin frown. The Godspeed wanted more. Now he lifted her veil and pressed his mouth hard against hers. She did nothing to resist, although he could feel her shiver when he slipped the tip of his tongue between her lips.
“Line?” said the Godspeed.
“Well, got to go.” Sister twitched out of his embrace. “See you in a bit.”
“It will seem like forever.” Adel bowed to her and then they both turned to get the Godspeed’s reaction.
“Better,” she said. “But Miranda, flow into his arms. He’s going to be your husband, your dream come true.”
“I know.” Her voice was pained.
“Take your lunch break and send me Stephano and Trinculo.” She waved them off. “Topic of the day is… what?” She glanced around the little theater, as if she might discover a clue in the empty house. “Today you are to talk about what you’re going to do when you get home.”
Adel could not help but notice Sister’s stricken expression; her eyes were like wounds. But she nodded and made no objection.
As they passed down the aisle, the Godspeed brought her fetch downstage to deliver the speech that closed Act III, Scene i. As always, she gave her lines a grandiloquent, singing quality.
“Those two really take the cake. My plan is working out just great, but I can’t sit around patting myself on the back. I’ve got other fish to fry if I’m going to make this mess end happily ever after.”
To help Adel and Sister get into character, the Godspeed had directed them to eat lunch together every day in the Chillingsworth Breakfasting Room while the other pilgrims dined in the Ophiuchi. They had passed their first meal in tortured silence and might as well have been on different floors of the threshold. When the Godspeed asked what they talked about, they sheepishly admitted that they had not spoken at all. She knew this, of course, but pretended to be so provoked that she assigned them topics for mandatory discussion.
The Chillingsworth was a more intimate space than the Ophiuchi. It was cross-shaped; in the three bays were refectory tables and benches. There was a tile fireplace in the fourth bay in which a fetch fire always burned. Sconces in the shapes of the famous singing flowers of Old Zara sprouted from pale blue walls.