World Rule

So I'm sitting in class, and Mrs. T says we're gonna go outside today, just for a change. She lectures on "Things Fall Apart", right there in the grass. It's nice. The sun is going full blast, and the Italian in me is loving it. The perfect setting for what was going to happen, absolutely magical. I look past Mrs. T's head and my eyes pop. Holy schlamoly, the grass is turning into a hill! I can't see the school buildings anymore; only light, blinding light. I hear what sounds like hooves, like a horse. Suddenly I'm not the only one who sees it; shock is written into every face on the field. The galloping hooves crest the top of the hill, and it's a fantastical sight. A horse, unlike any I'd seen at a pony ride or in a parade, glowing, with enormous wings with feathers like a huge bird, galloping towards us. Everyone looks up at the crackling sound that I realise is coming from a point of light directly above me. Out of nowhere, a black staff appears about five feet over my head and starts to fall. My dancer's reflexes react perfectly, and my hands wrap around the smooth metal. Then I'm surrounded by nothing but light, and I'm floating, no, I'm flying fast. I'm right next to that beautiful horse, standing my full five-five, wrapped in red cloth that feels incredible against my olive skin. He bows his head, and I touch his soft muzzle. He kneels; I leap onto his back and I'm spirited away. There are greater plans for me, stretching far beyond Bayonne High School, New Jersey.

I awoke to Ellie's knock on my door; my first view of the day was her pale blue eyes. "Aria, get the hell up. Big day, girlie. Oh man, who is that?" she said in awe, pointing to the second person in the bed.

"Fuckin' gorgeous ambassador guy from Guatemala. Ambassador, hell. Sex god, more like. Ramirez just sent him to make me happy. Which he did, admittedly."

"You better have used the ol' contraceptive superpowers or People will be all over the Supreme Ruler of the World's love child." Ellie and I both laughed.

Ellie is my messenger from Trystan's stable, my secretary, and my good friend. She knows very well that one of the most important tasks I have is to put the kibosh on people having too much unprotected sex and consequently too many babies. Even with the extensive magical powers I gained the day I met Trystan, it's still difficult for a woman of 20 to carry the world on her (thankfully tanned) shoulders. I can't do everything all the time.

My name is Aria Gianni, and I have been in charge of the earth for five years now. Trystan, my pegasus friend, lives with me at La Cavallo, my house, which is in a remote region of Southern Italy. He is my connection to the divine hand that decided in 2005 that enough was enough. George Bush's reign of terror couldn't go on any longer, nor could the battered environment take any more degradation, or the population stay so huge. A higher power does exist, and I am the chosen manifestation of it on Earth. All the superpowers anyone has ever dreamed of are at my fingertips. I can become invisible, I can fly, and I can make just about anything happen. But the year I was 20, I almost screwed it up for myself.

This particular morning, Ellie had me meeting with a representative from Pakistan on population control, a talk with an endangered species expert, and a healing hour for some of the few hundred AIDS-positive people left in Africa. I spun around and was dressed in a matter of three seconds, just like Superman. Before I went to breakfast, I woke up my sleeping beauty. I'm still mastering Spanish, but I was able to tell him coherently that breakfast would be downstairs, he had been great, and that I was terribly sorry for ripping his shirt. He would find it in my wardrobe, beautifully mended, and would he please send my compliments to his boss. The false ambassador nodded sleepily and kissed my cheek. I walked out arm in arm with Ellie down to breakfast.

"So, how was he?" Ellie often lives vicariously; she doesn't have much time for guys.

I gave her a look. She knows I want to know some of this stuff on my own. I don't want to be seen as a ruler completely reliant on my magical powers. Brainpower counts for me. "Ellie, I want to be able to talk to anyone that hot without using my powers."

I'm big on men. My motto: a man a day keeps the memories away. I won't bore you with the details of Anton's and my relationship. It can be explained simply: guy finds girl, guy and girl fall madly in love, guy decides he wants to be single again, guy dumps girl. He was an interesting mental case. He loved me, but even I couldn't replace the anger he felt at the world for the way people had treated him, the way the treated others. Toward the end of our relationship, he told me he hated all people.

Anton was part Latino; I tend to gravitate towards guys that look like him, like the "ambassador". No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to stick to one any more. I wish I could. Anton and I were engaged before it all fell apart, and I miss the feeling he gave me. Whenever he held me, he would whisper in my ear that nobody would ever hurt me so long as he lived, and I felt safe.

After a quick breakfast (from which the Guatemalan sex god was strangely absent), I went down to the meeting with the Pakistani rep. Since English is the business language of Pakistan, I had no problem talking to or understanding him. The guy was sitting in my office, looking distastefully at the pictures of me with various handsome partners at my dance parties, probably disapproving of me showing my legs. Sometimes I get really pissed at some of the very conservative Islamic stuff about women, and the rep I was about to meet with was one of the worst fundamentalist Muslims I'd ever met, but I'm the one with the superpowers, so I try not to let them get to me. I smiled and said politely, "Good morning, Mr Siddiqui. I am certainly glad to have you here. I understand you have news for me on Pakistan's current organisational situation."

"Yes. You have considerably reduced our population. The crude birth rate is dropping, but we're still having problems with malaria in the less prosperous areas of Pakistan."

When Siddiqui said less prosperous, he meant it. Hardly anyone is poor anymore, and the situation is getting better every day. Though hailed as communism by many, my monetary redistribution system is working beautifully. The universal public education system I set up is working wonders, too. Women can go to their local Family Planning Centre and get on hormonal birth control, take some free condoms from the jar at the door, receive counselling, abortions, pre-natal care and numerous other services. The Centres also try to get dads involved in childcare and birth control. Naturally, Siddiqui hates them.

"I'll send a delegation of doctors immediately." I pressed a button and got Ellie on the line immediately.

I pressed the button again, and the intercom fizzled out. Siddiqui repeated, "Why Chase?"

Siddiqui opened an elegant calfskin briefcase (faux, of course; I require it), and produced a brightly-coloured diagram. I perused it anxiously; Siddiqui hates my population-reduction policies, and I didn't particularly want to see the population of Pakistan growing as much as it did before I took charge.

"I notice that the amount of under-15's is decreasing. Excellent." The periodical age-structure diagrams I receive from each country in the world detail the age makeup of that country. A high percentage of people under 15 equals trouble; the more people in an area that are about to enter their reproductive years, the more babies there will be.

Siddiqui and I continued to go over the details of Pakistan's population control program until my buzzer sounded. Ellie knocked and came in.

Ah yes, my transportation program. I wasn't sure at first what I was going to do about the need for more environmentally friendly transport. We used to drive clunky hybrids, with teleportation systems developed by my Minister of Transport and my magical skills for international and distance travel. I needed to hear from my people, so I decided to go on a fact-finding trip in my former stomping grounds, and took a tri-state trip to New Jersey (my old home), California, and Minnesota. It wasn't until I reached a coast town in California that I met a high school kid who suggested using horses. She even made me a diagram of a simple barn that I could have put into people's backyards, which are much more spacious since the population reduction. Everyone in the world has a comfortable house with some land outside.

It was wonderful. Roads were repaved with horse-friendly footing, reducing the need to pave over natural areas. I financed the equine education of every horse-crazy kid I could find and hired horse trainers to create dependable family mounts. The increased demand for horses and buggies made them affordable almost overnight. From steady little ponies for young children to tall, flashy mounts for teenagers, there was an affordable horse for everyone. Saddle horses and people in buggies became a common sight. All children were immediately given riding lessons at school. The daily workout caused obesity to virtually disappear, and there was a lot more interest in sports. Horses became a part of everyone's family, just like Trystan became a part of mine.

Trystan is a very beautiful pegasus. He is white, with large, feathery wings, light purple eyes and an uncanny ability to be in the right place at the right time. Sure enough, he was waiting for me on the roof deck for the flight to France to lunch with the renowned endangered species expert, Marlene Marteau. I hopped onto Trystan's back and we flew off towards France. Trystan, being a fatherly sort of pegasus, started to bug me about the meeting.

"Now remember my dear, the World Wildlife Fund flagship species are pandas, tigers, whales, dolphins, rhinos, elephants, marine turtles and great apes."

"I know you know. Aria, I don't expect you to be one hundred percent all the time. You're still young."

"Ah, we're here!" Trystan flies quite fast; it had taken him hardly any time to reach Aix-en-Provence, Marlene's home town in the south of France. We landed smoothly on Cours Mirabeau, the main road, Trystan carefully tucking his feet to avoid the sound of his metal shoes startling the horses on the road. We made our way to Marlene's cottage on the outskirts of the town. Trystan galloped to the pastures to talk to the other horses, while I was greeted by Marlene's husband Jacques, who led me into the meeting room. Jacques was an amazing cook, and a fine meal was laid out. Marlene came in and gave me a warm hug; we'd been friends ever since she came to me with a plan to save some of the world's most endangered creatures. We tend to speak English with each other; I speak decent French, but she would like to improve her English.

"Ça va bien. I mean, fine." We both laughed. Sometimes Marlene can't resist speaking her native tongue.

"Is the gorilla problem going okay? As I remember it, the civil wars in East Africa won't quit, no matter how many peace talks I lead."

"Ze ceevil wars are clearing up, for which I am quite delighted. Your donation of ze land area in Burundi that was abandoned was a great help. I have ordered recolonisation of ze area with native plants, but it has hardly been needed. Ze area has been overgrown beautifully. Your permission to move colonies of gorillas in as soon as is wise?"

"Zey are unlike anything I have evair tried!" I give each of my experts a special pair of boots that allow them to float over an area they're observing and become undetectable, so as not to disturb any animals living there. They can also notice any problems with the area when wearing the boots. I could talk to Marlene for hours, which is just what I did. I love what she does for animals, and she's fun to be with (not to mention her husband's croque-monsieurs). It was growing dusky when Jacques came in to tell me that Trystan was waiting for me in the stables. I bid them both goodbye, Jacques stuffing a pack of brioches and an entire duck into my saddlebag and ran outside, where Trystan stood in his engraved ceremonial saddle. The healing hour we were headed for required ceremonial garb, so I spun into my red robes and leapt into the saddle. Trystan and I galloped across the sky over the Mediterranean; we were late.

"Oh Trystan, I know they're going to want to know why I didn't do this earlier."

"Aria, you couldn't have cured all the people that had AIDS a few years ago all in one swoop. You were wise to do it a few at a time."

"I tried to combine education and my powers, but try telling them that. They have to do some things on their own."

"Aria, just remember that these people should be acting like mature adults and taking care of themselves, not just relying on you. Keep telling them that. Here we are."

When we touched down, 10 minutes late, in the main square of the village in Africa where the AIDS victims had been asked to gather, we were greeted with cheers. Little children brought their African Basuto ponies to receive Trystan's blessing, and people grabbed at my robe. After I shook a few hands, Trystan trotted over to the centre and I visualised a mound appearing below us. A section of the ground rose a few feet, and we could be seen by all present. I stood up on Trystan's saddle and leapt down with a spin. My black staff appeared in my hand.

I addressed the crowd in carefully studied Kiswahili, while creating subtitles in the air with other African languages.

"Are all individuals in the world still afflicted with the AIDS virus present? Please step forward."

People cheered, and a sizeable crowd stepped forward, some being supported by family members. Yet I saw in my head a vision of a man in Morocco, so weak he couldn't rise, still lying in bed. He had nobody to help him get to the village. I couldn't leave him there. I focused on seeing him there, at the very front if the crowd. There was a flash of red light, and the haggard man slumped to the ground. Trystan trotted up to him and nudged him to his feet.

I summoned all my powers. I felt power surge through my body, and raised my staff. Shutting my eyes, I thought of that crowd. They're depending on me, I thought. I'm the one to cure them forever of this ravage. I forced the power that had built in my body out through my staff, and saw millions of rays flash out of it and wrap the afflicted in their many colours. A great cheer rang out from the crowd, and those that had once been assisted by their spouses and children flexed their limbs and breathed the clean, sweet air.

Ellie, bless her, had sent a band, and the party that followed was wild. Now they could get down without a care for infection or viral disease! The village doctor came up to me, smiling. He was Italian, with dark, intense eyes and an easygoing air. I'd only met him once before; he had recently been assigned to the village to help with the AIDS problem and educate the public, since I can't be everywhere all the time. He certainly had a very nice smile. We exchanged pleasantries for a few minutes, and made our way to the dance floor. I supposed I knew who I'd be waking up to tomorrow.

And so the days went on. More miracles, more parties, more compliments, more men. Through that month, I did a number of interesting things. I cleaned up the remnants of the wreckage the Second Gulf War had caused. The delegation of doctors I sent to Pakistan ameliorated the malaria situation. I took a float-boot ride over the area of East Africa that Marlene had worked on, and saw the gorilla families that had moved in. I had a huge party in the grand ballroom at La Cavallo, my humble abode; that was a hit. I tangoed the night away with Vincenzo, a handsome Nicaraguan dance star. Ellie saw her new boyfriend Andrew, a young Canadian dignitary, and I didn't see the pair of them for the rest of the night. For the first time since I became the leader of the world, even with Vincenzo to cuddle up to, I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking of Ellie and Andrew dancing. The way they looked at each other reminded me of what I used to see in Anton's eyes. Why couldn't I, the ruler of the world, find someone who would look at me like that? I only ever saw lust in the eyes of my lovers; lust for power, lust for pleasure. I felt a tear trickling down my face. I hate that; I never cry. I was happy for Ellie; how long had she had to come into my room and see guy after hunky guy there? But I still yearned for that spark.

Suddenly the door burst open. Ellie rushed in, looking panicked. I sat bolt upright, and Vincenzo jerked awake. I got right out of bed, spinning into my maroon robe, and sat her down in my bedroom chair.

"The US one! Commander-in-Chief! Leader of the Free World! El Capitan! He's DYING! They're saying it was a murder, an inside job!"

I dressed and switched on the lamp. The president's dying under those circumstances meant a serious threat to the stability of the country, and everything I'd worked for! Vincenzo, sleepy-eyed and grumpy, protested groggily, "Whassamatter?"

Ellie and I dashed to my meeting room, and Ellie put in a priority call to Washington. She handed me the phone.

"Ms. Gianni, we're in a desperate situation. John was just pronounced dead. If we can't find a leader, we're in deep trouble," responded Teresa Miller. I'd met her a few times; I knew I could trust her, but we weren't quite friends yet.

"I understand. We'll miss John; he was a good man. I'll have funeral arrangements made immediately. Now, Ellie said this was an inside job?"

"Yes. The entire White House has gone haywire! The Speaker of the House has been poisoning him."

"Yes. He was arrested immediately. I can't believe you didn't know about all this, Aria. The Vice President committed suicide after hearing it all; she and John had been married for so long that she couldn't face life without him."

"So much for feminism. Okay, so we arrange a double funeral and a trial, but what happens next?"

"We have two possibilities for the next leader of the United States, both members of the Cabinet."

There are still elections in the US, but the candidate I endorse usually wins. After conferring with Teresa, I decided to endorse Jack Fitzgerald, a young former senator from California. Ever since I lowered the required age for presidents, the US's leaders had treated the youth of the country with more respect. I hadn't seen a "No More than Two Students in the Store at a Time" sign since. Fitzgerald had also done a lot to implement my abortion policies, and had set up more free abortion clinics in California than Senators in any other state had done. The more I heard about him, the more I approved of him. After securing the trial date for Lynch, we hung up. I buzzed Ellie and she was at my shoulder in seconds.

"That's 'Ma'am' to you. Make those funeral arrangements, and get a meeting for me with Jack Fitzgerald in the morning."

When I woke up, I had a pretty good feeling about the day. I'd see what this Jack Fitzgerald was like. Teresa said he was 28; hell, maybe I'd get a little more action. I sat on my bed for a minute, thinking and brushing my hair. I felt Vincenzo slide his arm around my waist.

I spun into a neat business jacket and knee-length skirt as Ellie came in. She looked happier than I'd seen her in days.

We linked arms and went down to a quick breakfast. As we ate our cereal, I asked Ellie, "So what is Fitzgerald really like?"

"He's a real nice guy. Great platform. Maintaining Family Planning Centres, helping gay couples, certifying environmentally sustainable timber production . . . all that good stuff. He's kinda cute, too."

"You may or may not be able to bag him. He's single, but he's an important person and he might have honour issues."

"Eh, I probably won't go for him. That guy from New Zealand is sending a sex-god--err, 'ambassador', later this afternoon."

Laughing, I headed downstairs to my throne room. I felt the need to make an impression. I decided against the business suit and spun into a blue silk skirt and matching top with flowing sleeves. I pressed the buzzer on the arm of my throne.

There was a knock on the door just as I finished putting on a pair of sapphire earrings (I keep a jewellery stash near my throne just in case).

"Come in," I said. I'd tried to say it in my most seductive voice, but for some reason it came out rather nervously.

Ellie was right. There could never be such an open, kind face as Jack Fitzgerald's. I descended the steps leading to my throne. I tried to move my hips as gracefully as possible, but I tripped down the last two steps. Fitzgerald ran forward and caught me.

"Good morning Mr. Fitzgerald. I seem to be having a very accident-prone morning!"

His laugh was easy and genuinely mirthful. Mine, oddly, sounded shrill and nervous.

"I hope it doesn't continue. I'm pleased to hear that you have decided to endorse my campaign.

"Yes. Teresa told me lots of good things about what you've done as Senator and for the Cabinet. Shall we proceed to my meeting room?"

The meeting was a success in some respects, but in others, it mystified me. We certainly had a lot to talk about. Jack's campaign was going to be great; he had great politics and many ideas for clearing up the outcry over the president's death and restoring the public's trust in the government. "Honesty is the best policy," he kept telling me. He wanted to use every possible avenue of communication with the public to let them know what he was doing. Around lunchtime, Jack called his Vice-President and the other members of his proposed Cabinet to meet me. Being young, he had surrounded himself with experienced, wise politicians, and I was impressed with his choices. We agreed on dates for a campaign tour of the States. By the time the group headed down to the teleportation station to go back to DC, I felt confident that the national crisis was solved.

But one thing tugged at my conscience. Why hadn't I been my usual composed self? Throughout the entire meeting, I had done silly things. I'd tripped over a chair, missed my mouth with my fork and gotten gravy all over my dress, and giggled stupidly-- a lot. I wasn't actually into him, was I? Otherwise I would have seduced him. I've always known what I want, and I've always gotten it. I went out to the stables and patted one of the young foals that my horsekeeper, Mara, was raising. The curious baby licked at the gravy spot on my dress. What was I doing? Why was I in the stables in a nice dress that I hadn't even bothered to change? I spun immediately into my favourite old shirt and riding breeches. The foal looked puzzled, but forgot all about it when I offered him a treat. I heard hooves outside, and Ellie and Andrew strode into the stables. Ellie led her gentle gelding, Gulliver, into his stall across from the one I was in, and Andrew started grooming his handsome grey Warmblood, Landon.

"Yeah, it was great. Landon jumped that brush jump I've been trying to get him over for ages," Andrew responded.

Andrew sure was a nice guy. After they had finished putting the horses away, Andrew had somewhere to go. I watched as he kissed Ellie goodbye and headed for the teleporter.

"Shut up. What makes you think that?" I hadn't meant to sound so abrupt. Ellie looked hurt.

"Sorry. It's just that I've never seen you act like that, except that first time you told me Anton had asked you to marry him."

"No, I'm sorry, Ellie. I didn't mean to sound like that. Anyway, I think I'd know. I always do."

We headed to the house. My meeting with the New Zealand dreamboat was in an hour.

When the dreamboat- er, "junior ambassador" arrived, he was just what Thorpe promised. But I wasn't in a seductive mood. I let him do most of the work. I kept thinking about Jack. Shit, Ellie might be right.

Soon, I embarked on my campaign tour with Fitzgerald. We were a huge hit everywhere we went. Jack made so many speeches, I thought his voice would give out. But he kept on touring, shaking hands, playing with children, and winning America's heart. He insisted we stay in hotels in each town and city we visited, as opposed to going home each night, as we were perfectly capable of doing, to show respect for the town. And I kept on, too. More young men from all around the States were with me every single night of the tour. The young women I saw at stops during our campaign tour, fawning over Jack's open face and impeccable manners, annoyed me to no end. I'd stopped kidding myself about my feelings for Jack, but I knew it would never happen. He seemed a discerning and elegant fellow who wouldn't ever be enamoured of a klutz like me, no matter how powerful I was. My newfound clumsiness kept turning me into a bloody fool at meals and meetings. I tripped over an Ohio Senator's feet. I swallowed an entire piece of frozen ice cream, choked, and was Heimliched by a laughing Jack. And yet. . . maybe it was my imagination, but at times he would return my shy sidelong looks with a sweet smile. He certainly seemed interested in my life. Wherever we were, we always found some place to walk or ride together, and to talk about any number of things: our work, our childhoods, the world we were striving to better.

One night in a little town in Montana, we set up near a dance hall that I converted into a ballroom for the night, and we had a party. I danced with all the senators in the place and managed to enjoy myself without doing anything stupid. When a waltz started, I suddenly found myself partnerless. Someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around. Jack was standing there, with his hand held out. I took it, and we flew into the waltz without saying a word. Ellie had been right again. He was a wonderful dancer. We seemed to glide together a few feet above the floor, so immediate was our chemistry. I let my face go and smiled brightly at him. He smiled back, his eyes looking directly into mine. The other dancers seemed to disappear, and then it was just us, our dance. I found that I could match each of his steps faultlessly. It was the first graceful thing I had done in his presence.

"Let's go outside. It's rather warm, isn't it? Growing up in Northern California doesn't prepare one for this sort of heat."

He laughed his nice laugh. We leaned against the fence surrounding the small garden. I gazed at the half-moon floating over the prairie on the outskirts of town, then at him. He looked lovely in the silver light. Before I knew it, he was kissing me, very gently. I felt his arms slip around my waist, and mine encircled his shoulders. But it was he that drew back first.

"Oh." I couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't sound ridiculous. "I, uh, like you too."

"I don't know why I kissed you. Okay, that's not true." He sounded as nervous as I felt. "But I can't do this."

"We've been staying in the same hotels, Aria. D'you think I don't hear what you do every night? You have no respect for yourself. You're the best leader this world has ever had, but you can't seem to fancy any of those men for anything more than a fuck. You're a beautiful, fascinating woman, the kind who should inspire love. I don't want someone who treats herself like that." He walked back inside.

The night suddenly seemed very cold. I ran through the streets of the little town to the hotel we had booked for that night. Once in my room, I flung myself on the bed. The tears ran slowly down my face. I went and looked in the mirror in the bathroom. He had called me beautiful. It certainly didn't feel that way now. The spell to take my makeup off didn't seem to want to come through. I took a wet wipe from a small box by the sink and watched my eyeshadow smear across my face. Someone knocked on my door.

"Hey, gorgeous. You told me to meet you here." Shit. It was that farm boy I'd talked to at the dance. I'd winked and flirted, and asked him to come back later. Jack was right. Why did there have to be a new one every night?

I didn't sleep much in the weeks that followed. It was lonely without someone by my side, and it didn't suit me. I dozed off in meetings, once missing an important call about an insurgence in Nairobi, and my food-loving Italian side seemed to have gone into remission. Jack noticed my behaviour; he kept giving me concerned glances. My reputation had followed me to California, and surfer boys all along the Southern Californian coast would approach me at every stop on the campaign tour. But I wouldn't have even one of them. I remembered what Jack said about respecting myself, and kept my clothes clean, my hair brushed, and my hands to myself. My heart wasn't in it yet, but as we passed each stop, I felt a little better, a little more energetic. We were going south, and I soaked up the healing sun on every beach in the area.

The elections took place, and Jack won a sweeping victory. I stood with him as he made his victory speech back in Washington DC. After we went our separate ways, Jack was very busy with putting the country back in order, and I with mopping up the remaining problems of the world.

After taking care of my official business, I went on a ride with Trystan on the waters of the Mediterranean. We usually got sopping wet, but it was great fun. News magazines published candid shots of us, along with press photos of my work with sick children in the Middle East and my discovery of an illegal slaughterhouse in China. They complimented my newfound commitment to the job and remarked on how much the wild-child ruler of the world was maturing. It seemed that people approved of my abstinence from men and my intensified concentration on the world. One morning, Ellie brought me a copy of Time.

"Look at that, you and Trystan made the cover! It's a great picture." Even though she and Andrew had married a few months ago, they stayed on at the palace. I took the magazine. Trystan and I were framed by sunlight and looked almost supernatural.

That afternoon, Trystan and I were frolicking in the surf on the beach near my house. Suddenly, he reared up. I fell off his back into the water.

Trystan had been facing into the sun and hadn't seen the man striding toward us. My mouth fell open. It was Jack, but not the Jack I was used to. Instead of his usual immaculate suit and tie, he was wearing a slightly damp t-shirt and board shorts. His hair was beautifully tousled and wet; he had obviously been swimming. He smiled at the sight of me sitting in the water like a toddler. Jack waded straight into the waves and pulled me up. I realised my white sundress was completely transparent from the water. Thankfully I'd thought to wear my favourite red bikini.

"Hello, young man. I'll leave you two to it." Trystan's violet eyes met mine, and he ambled off to clip at the grass near the beach.

"Hi, Aria. I'm sorry I scared you. I got a wonderful picture just before you fell." He took his camera out to show me. Trystan was rearing, and the sunlight made us look like a shadow. "It's almost as good as that one of you two in Time. They called you the 'Warrior Queen' or some such thing for all you've done."

"I couldn't stop thinking about you. Seeing your picture in all those magazines and papers reminded me of you every day. I kept imagining that time we kissed."

"How did you know about Anton?" I hadn't told anyone the whole story except Ellie.

"Andrew told me. He's a friend of mine. I think your friend Ellie asked him to tell me. Also, Aria, one tends to forget how young you are. You carry so much. You're still a young woman, and we all experiment and make mistakes. I--I guess I was too much of a prude."

"You're right on both counts. I suppose whatever got me through the night made the job easier, or seemed to."

He bent down and kissed me. It felt like the kiss in Montana, only better, because now I knew he was mine, and I his.