Almost as soon as they sat down, Kris Cardenas joined Pancho and George, looking radiantly young in a buttercup-yellow dress that complemented her golden hair.
“Amanda’s really going through with it,” Cardenas said, as if she wished it weren’t true.
“Looks that way,” George replied, leaning forward in his chair and keeping his voice low. “Don’t think she’d let things get this far and then back out, do you?”
“Not Mandy,” said Pancho, sitting between George and Cardenas. “She’ll go through with it, all right.”
“I feel bad for Lars,” Cardenas said.
Pancho nodded. “That’s why Mandy’s marrying Humphries; to keep Lars alive.”
“Well, he’s alive, at least,” said George. “Him and ‘is crew are out in the Belt someplace.”
“Prospecting?”
“What else can they do? If he tries to put in here at Selene or anywhere on Earth they’ll arrest ‘im.”
Cardenas shook her head. “It doesn’t seem fair, exiling him like that.”
“Better than killin’ him,” said George.
“I suppose, but still . . .”
“It’s done,” George said, with heavy finality. “Now we’ve got to look forward, to the future.”
Pancho nodded agreement.
“I want you,” George said to Cardenas, “to start figurin’ out how we can use nanos for mining.”
Cardenas stiffened slightly. “I told you that I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Stuff it,” George snapped. “It’s a great idea and you know it. Just because—”
The live orchestra that Humphries had brought to Selene for the occasion began to play the wedding march. Everyone got to their feet and turned to see Amanda, in a white floor-length gown, starting down the aisle several paces ahead of the other women in their matching aqua gowns. Amanda walked alone and unsmiling, clutching a bouquet of white orchids and pale miniature roses in both hands.
It won’t be that bad a life, Amanda was telling herself as she walked slowly up the aisle to the tempo of the wedding march. Martin isn’t a monster; he can be positively sweet when he wants to. I’ll simply have to keep my wits about me and stay in command of the situation.
But then she thought of Lars and her heart melted. She wanted to cry, but knew she shouldn’t, mustn’t. A bride is supposed to smile, she thought. A bride is supposed to be radiantly happy.
Martin Humphries was standing at the makeshift altar up at the head of the aisle. Two hundred-some guests were watching Amanda as she walked slowly, in measured tread, to him. Martin was beaming, looking resplendent in a tuxedo of deep burgundy velvet, standing there like a triumphant champion, smiling at her dazzlingly.
The minister had been flown to Selene from Martin’s family home in Connecticut. All the other members of the bridal party were strangers to Amanda.
As the minister started to speak the words of the ceremony, Amanda thought of the fertilized embryos that she and Lars had left frozen in the clinic in Selene. The zygotes were Lars’s children, his offspring. And hers.
She glanced at Martin, who would be her legal husband in a few moments. I’ll have sex with him, Amanda thought. Of course. That’s what he wants. That’s what he expects. And I’ll give him everything he expects. Everything.
But when I bear a child, it will be Lars’s baby, not Martin’s. I’ll see to that. Martin will never know, but I will. I’ll bring Lars’s son into the world. That’s what I’ll do.
When Amanda had to say, “I do,” she smiled for the first time.
Martin Humphries stood beside the most splendidly beautiful woman in the solar system and knew that she would be his and his alone for as long as he wanted her.
I’ve got everything I want, he told himself. Almost. He had seen Pancho among the wedding guests, standing there with that big red-headed oaf and Dr. Cardenas. Amanda had invited them, they were her friends. Humphries thought he himself would have invited Pancho, just to let her watch him take possession of Amanda.
Pancho thinks the war’s over. We have the rock rats under control and the fight between Astro and me can be channeled into peaceful competition. He almost laughed aloud. Amanda glanced at him. She probably thinks I’m smiling for her, Humphries thought. Well, I am. But there’s more to it than that. Much more.