David Garnet - Bikini Planet

And it did take ages, because there were so many different courses.

Norton hardly ate a thing; he was far too nervous. Even so, he ate more than the enigmatic aliens. That wasn’t difficult. They ate nothing, they drank nothing, they said nothing.

Diana tried to get them to speak. To pass the time, Kiru also did her best to entice out a single word, just a slate-induced “yes” or “no,” or some kind of gesture. All they did was stare down at the table, eyes hidden behind the black goggles which almost appeared to be grafted onto their pale faces. Norton had other things on his mind, and he didn’t bother trying to start a conversation.

Every now and then, he sipped at his salty wine, careful not to empty the glass. He didn’t want to get drunk, didn’t want to fluff the few words he was being allowed at his wedding.

There were speeches, but he paid little attention. Diana gave the opening address, welcoming the organisation’s new partners. One of the tax collectors at the table stood up, as if about to reply. Instead, the alien simply bowed in acknowledgment. Someone else gave a speech, then someone else, and so on. Then Diana was on her feet again, giving another speech about a wonderful new marketing enterprise, a special tourist attraction on Cafe World which was bound to be a fabulous success. Norton realised she was referring to weddings.

“One of the ancient marriage traditions of my native planet,” Diana was saying, “is that a magnificent confection is baked for the wedding feast, a piece of which is given to every guest. To mark the first wedding to be celebrated here, our master chef has recreated an original Terran recipe. The owners and management of Cafe World are pleased to present this as their wedding gift to Mr. and Mrs. Norton.”

“Mrs. Norton?” said Kiru. “Who? Is that me?”

Diana began to applaud. Taking this as their cue, most of the others at the banquet did the same. Despite their extra thumbs, the palefaces didn’t join in the clapping.

Norton watched as two Caphafers wheeled a large trolley toward their table. Whatever was on it was covered by a red cloth. They slid the contents of the trolley onto the table, then withdrew. Diana whisked the cloth away, revealing an enormous wedding cake.

Covered in white icing, consisting of several tiers, each laid directly on top of each other, the whole thing was at least five feet high, with the base about two feet in diameter. As the elaborate cake became taller, the tiers became smaller, and on the very top stood two small figurines, one in a white bikini, one in a gangster suit.

“Wow,” said Norton.

“My own personal gift, Wayne,” Diana said, quietly.

“Thanks,” he said.

“No,” said Diana. “Thank you.”

“Everything he’s done for you,” said Kiru, “and all he gets is one lousy cake!”

Norton kept looking at the cake. It was amazing. He could hardly believe it.

“Shhh,” said Norton. “Wow. Looks too good to eat.”

“Too good?” said Kiru. “Seaweed and fish.”

“Can I please have your attention for another minute?” said Diana. “I’m proud to say that you’re all about to witness our first Cafe World wedding. Before long, this planet will become the galactic marriage centre, the chosen destination of every sophisticated couple or triple who wishes to make a legal nuptial agreement. Kiru and Wayne, stand up.”

Norton rose to his feet. Kiru drained her glass and did the same. Norton removed his hat.

“Kiru,” said Diana, “do you take this man to be your legal husband?”

“Lawful wedded,” whispered Norton. “Lawful wedded husband.”

“Yes,” said Kiru.

“No,” said Norton. “You’ve got to say, ‘I do.’ ”

“Wayne,” said Diana, “do you take this woman to be your legal wife?”

“Lawful,” Norton said again. “Wedded,” he repeated. Then he gave up. “Yeah, okay. I mean ‘I do.’ Yeah, I do.”

“As the judicial authority on Cafe World,” said Diana, “I affirm you—”

“No!” said Norton. “Not yet, not yet.” He’d just remembered one of the key lines: With this ring I thee wed .

He also remembered he didn’t have a ring. Carrying the ring was the best man’s job. He also didn’t have a best man.

“What’s the matter now?” said Diana.

Norton gazed around anxiously, up, then down, not knowing what he was looking for. The ground was surfaced with tiles, making it smooth and regular, but already sand and loose pebbles had been kicked up from the beach. Something caught his eye. He went over, picked it up, examined it.

“Okay,” he said, “go ahead…”

Diana repeated, “As the judicial authority on Cafe World…”

Norton reached out for Kiru’s left hand and slipped what he’d found onto her third finger. It slid across her fingernail, past the first knuckle. With a slight push, it went over the second knuckle. A perfect fit.

“… I affirm you are now wife and husband,” Diana concluded.

Kiru was staring down at her finger, at her wedding ring. A broken seashell, forged by the elements into a polished circle, it glinted in the light, ruby and amber, like a gemstone.

“It’s…” Kiru kept gazing at the shell, lost for words.

“We’ll get a real ring later,” said Norton, “a gold one.”

“… the most wonderful thing anyone’s ever given me,” said Kiru. She looked at Norton, and she smiled. “Not that anyone’s ever given me anything.”

“You can share the wedding cake,” said Norton.

A soft voice said, “Under the circumstances, we are also prepared to make an endowment to these two humans.”

Norton looked around. One of the seven aliens was standing up and speaking.

“This announcement is in no way to be regarded as establishing a precedent,” the tax delegate continued, “but as of the start of the next financial year, the tax liability of these two humans is to be reduced to the minimum applicable category on whatever world the specified humans are domiciled for assessment purposes. This applies exclusively to personal taxation of every description, but not corporate taxation. This allowance will be terminated immediately in the event of divorce or separation of the specified humans or upon the death of the first of them, whichever is the sooner.”

“That’s the most astonishing thing I’ve heard in my life,” said Diana. “In either life. I think I’ll get married.”

A paleface with goggled eyes turned toward her. “To repeat my earlier statement, this announcement is in no way to be regarded as establishing a precedent,” said the alien.

“Er… thanks,” said Norton.

“Yes,” said Kiru.

The tax assessor bowed, then sat down.

Norton wasn’t aware he had to pay tax. How could he, if he had no job, no salary? He was reasonably sure Kiru had no regular income. Under the circumstances, reduction of tax liability didn’t seem much of a wedding present. Still, the thought was there.

“Can I kiss the bride?” asked Norton.

“Why not?” said Kiru.

The bride and the groom kissed and kissed and kissed.

Then they headed for the top of the tallest skytel on the island, where they spent the first few hundred hours of their marriage in the new honeymoon suite.

Because Kiru and Norton never did divorce or separate, their privileged revenue status enabled them to save enough for a rejuve (tax free) each. Although this extended their lives by approximately fifty percent, finally they died.

In cosmic terms, even considering Norton’s extended life-span, their existence was less than a nanosecond; but to them, the only relevant era was that brief moment of galactic history when they were alive.

During that time, Kiru and Wayne Norton lived happily together.