One Thousand Brides by Solange Ayre Page B

but some of it’s inevitably lost to waste. There are only two stops between Teril and Gazeem, our new planet. So we have to carry or grow all of our food for the seven-year voyage.”
    “Gazeem?” It was the first time she’d heard the name of the planet they’d be colonizing.
    “It’s named after Primus Taddus’ father. He was one of our greatest explorers.”
    As they took the shuttle to the shopping level of the ship, Jan asked, “Are your parents still alive?”
    “My mother’s on Teril.” He looked out the window as the corridors flashed by. “My father was on the ship. He was one of those who died.”
    Jan knew him well enough now to read his expression. He was trying to keep his face blank but she sensed his sorrow. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice soft. “I lost my father a year ago. It’s very difficult.”
    “The illness took my father, my brother, their wives, two of my sisters and my wife.” He kept his face turned toward the window. “It’s the same for all of us. Most were traveling in family groups. Almost everyone lost a father, a brother. Some of us had our young with us…all succumbed to the illness. And every female died as well.”
    His hands lay on his knees, the knuckles white. Tentatively she put her hand over his. His fingers gripped hers.
    Concerned mainly with the kidnapping of her own kind, she hadn’t thought much about the illness that had killed so many Terilians. Now, suddenly, it seemed personal. She tried to imagine going on a cruise with her whole family and losing them all at once. Would she have even wanted to go on living?
    His voice was much lower as he added, “It was a hard time to be a doctor. They kept dying. No matter what I did, they died.”
    “Were you sick too?”
    “No one escaped the illness. There were days I couldn’t work. Couldn’t leave my bed…” He looked down at their entwined hands, his brow creasing.
    “On Earth, we have a name for what you’re feeling. It’s called survivor’s guilt,” Jan said. “I’m sure you did everything possible.”
    “Part of me knows that,” he said quietly. “Part of me thinks I should have done more.”
    “I’m glad you lived.”
    He squeezed her hand. “I am too—now.”
    The shuttle halted. Delos kept hold of her hand as he led her to the corridor of shops.
    Unlike Earth shops, with their brightly lit windows filled with merchandise, these stores consisted of a discreet length of plain gray corridor with small entrances every ten or twenty feet. Jan drew near and read the tiny sign, “Joyous Adornment. Restricted to primuses only.”
    “I can read this!” she exclaimed.
    Delos took on a smug expression. “You don’t think I’d have fitted you with an inferior brain chip, do you? You’ve gained both spoken and written language.” He guided her to a tiny viewing window at eye level. “Look here to preview the merchandise.”
    She peered in at a lovely black tunic. The draped material was caught up on each shoulder by a decorative copper button. As Jan watched, the tunic turned slowly, showing the graceful folds of the front and back. When the rotation completed, the picture changed. Now she viewed herself wearing the garment.
    As always, black was slimming. Jan said, “I wouldn’t mind having a tunic like that.”
    Delos took a quick look. “Under our sumptuary laws, only primuses are permitted to wear gray or black.” As they went to the next shop, he added, “Of course, you’ll be a primus’s wife. You’ll be able to shop anywhere you want.”
    She looked up at him, caught by the pain and bitterness in his tone.
    “I have to keep reminding myself,” he told her, his voice grim. “I don’t dare imagine that you could be mine permanently.”
    “Isn’t there any way that we can be together?”
    He looked into her eyes for a long moment. She felt sure he was going to tell her something. Then he said, “The primuses have first choice. In everything.”
    Why did she have