“What is meant by ‘partner’？ Like a husband or a wife?”
“Yes, of a sort.”
“A helpmate?”
“Yes.”
They passed a field in which a dozen or so American bison were grazing behind a fence. A sign in front of the field read: do not shoot the bison.
“I don’t remember encountering this field before,” Emily said. She went up to the fence and she let the bison sniff her hand. “When I was a child, I saw so many dead bison on the Oregon Trail, and I remember feeling outraged. People kill them because they are slow moving and easy to hunt, but then the meat just rots.”
“Yes.”
“The greater world sometimes seems quite cruel to me, so I am glad we live in a world in which bison are protected.” Emily turned to look at the doctor, but as they were almost to Foglands, the thick mists made it so they could barely see each other.
“Ms. Marks, I wish to make you a proposal.”
“Go on.”
“If it helps you, I would like to be a partner to you,” Daedalus said. “I know I am an imperfect substitute for whoever you have lost. But we are both alone, and I think we could help each other. Sorrows can be shared, as easily as games of Go.” She reached for Emily’s hand, and she got down on one knee. “I would like to propose to you. Leave Foglands. Come to Verdant Valley.”
“Do you mean marriage?”
“It doesn’t have to have a name,” Daedalus said. “It can have a name if you want it to have a name.”
“What would it mean, then?”
“It means a very long game of Go, played without stops.”
In the past, Emily had many reasons for not wishing to marry—among them her belief that marriage was conventional and a trap for women. She had rejected two engagements in her previous life, but at this juncture, she could see the facility of embarking on a different course. She discussed the matter with Alabaster.
“Verdant Valley is more fecund, but it’s disgustingly crowded,” Alabaster scoffed. “Would you honestly wish to live there? You will be constantly fending off gifts of turnips.”
“Alabaster, I did not come here to discuss the merits of living in the Valley.”
“What is your objection, then?”
“I barely know Daedalus. We have played several games of Go, that’s it. She does not even allow me to call her by her first name.”
“Oh, well, if that’s your concern, I wouldn’t worry about it. The most important thing is finding someone you wish to play with. And in any case, marriage is a more practical affair here. You join property, and if it doesn’t work out, you separate property. I have done it—”
“Twelve times, I know.”
“And I am no worse for the wear.”
“This seems an about-face from what you told me several months ago. You went on and on about how wearying it was to join and separate property.”
“There is a pleasure to the joining of property as well, otherwise why would we all keep doing it? ‘Pleasure’ might be too strong a word. If not a pleasure, let us say an interest. It develops the plot.” Alabaster eyed Emily’s still growing stomach. “How many months are you along now?”
“Perhaps eleven. I’m not sure. Soon, I shall be able to roll from Upper Foglands to town.”
“I feel you have lived here longer than eleven months, and you were with child when you arrived. Is it possible your unborn child is waiting for you to be married?”
“No, I could never have a child so conventional,” Emily said.
“Then, is it possible that it’s a force greater than the will of your child? Greater than biology even?”
“What force are we speaking of?”
“The algorithm.” Alabaster’s eyes darted around the room, as if they were being spied on, and then they lowered their voice. “You know, the unseen force, al-Khwarizmi, that guides all of our lives.”
“You are superstitious.”
“Maybe so, but what if the algorithm doesn’t allow children before marriage?”
“Oh, for God’s sake. I can’t believe Friendship would have such conventional morality baked into it. Who made the rules of this world anyway?”
And yet, that night, Emily had a lucid dream of her pixelated child, trapped in her pixelated womb. She cursed Alabaster for having put such provincial notions in her head.
For the next several weeks, neither wishing to accept nor reject Daedalus’s proposal, Emily avoided her entirely. The commute felt longer than ever, and with the amount of weight Emily was carrying, she exhausted her hearts quickly.
When Daedalus finally came to the store, she did not mention the proposal. “I’ve made something for you, Em,” Daedalus said. “I call it the Xyzzy portal. It’s to help you travel through Friendship.”
The doctor had installed a portal that connected Emily’s store to her house, allowing her to bypass her commute. The portal was sage green and had three golden dots painted on the side:
Emily studied the dots. “Is that an upside-down ‘therefore’ symbol?”
“When the dots are placed this way, they mean ‘because.’ I know my house is closer to town than yours. If you do ever decide to marry me,” Daedalus said, “I did not wish convenience to be a factor in your decision.”
That night, Emily showed Alabaster the portal. Alabaster stepped into it, and then they returned a moment later. “It works,” they declared. “I’m going to need wine. Don’t scrimp on the pours.” Emily decanted and then they went out to the porch.
“Well, Emily, that odd little doctor is romantic,” Alabaster said.
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“And what is love, in the end?” Alabaster said. “Except the irrational desire to put evolutionary competitiveness aside in order to ease someone else’s journey through life?”
wedding announcement
Ms. Emily B. Marks and Dr. Edna Daedalus were married by yours truly, in a ceremony attended by their small circle of intimates, including Pixel, the azure mare, and the vintner Alabaster Brown. Ms. Marks carried a bouquet of a dozen glass flowers, hand blown by Dr. Daedalus. Midway through the ceremony, snow began to fall, though Ms. Marks, who is two years pregnant, reported that she did not feel cold. In the months leading up to their nuptials, the couple had been playing games of Go, and Ms. Marks reported that the initial impetus for the marriage had been a desire to avoid interrupting their games with an eleven-screen winter commute.
As a wedding gift to Ms. Marks, Dr. Daedalus created a topiary hedge maze in the garden by her house. When asked why she had decided to make such a gift, the doctor replied cryptically, “To make a game is to imagine the person playing it.”
birth announcement
Emily B. Marks and Dr. Edna Daedalus are proud to report the arrival of their son, Ludo Quintus Marks Daedalus. Dr. Daedalus says the boy is healthy and has an area of 17 square pixels.
DOCTOR AND WIFE ARE HAPPY; BORED
Even after their marriage and the birth of their child, Emily and Daedalus decided to maintain separate residences. The doctor constructed an additional portal between their houses, so there was no real urgency to combine property. The baby, Ludo Quintus, grew used to living in both places.