Lines of ConfidenceLines of ConfidenceBreakaway + 5 yrs, ~ 1 month
‘We have overcome incredible odds. By all statistical calculations, we should not still be here; but, here we are.’ --- Cmdr John Koenig formally announcing the onset of preparations for the next generation of Alphans
‘… until we find our new home, we will rebuild Alpha as often as needed, and we will fill it with the laughter of children.’ --- Cmdr John Koenig’s message to Alpha nine days after the moonquake
Alpha stood battered but alive. The massive moonquake fourteen days before had almost caused the end to life on this fragile outpost of humanity. Only the very high construction standards and the foresight of the much missed Professor Bergman had stood between the Alphans and hard vacuum. Alphans were a tenacious breed, however, and not only were reconstruction plans well underway, but the population was set to increase further. Already, eleven children had been born. The genetic anomalies like Danae Carter’s silver hair and Mathew Cheung’s six fingered hands were minor. The occasional cleft palate or club foot still fell within the expected possibilities of normal children, especially when many of the parents were on the upper range of childbearing years.
But not all pregnancies had gone easily. There had been many miscarriages and some women simply had been unable to conceive, even with medical intervention. And there was one special case where an alien’s interference seemed insurmountable……
“Absolutely not!” Alan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He and Sandra stood in their quarters a bare meter apart glaring at each other. Four and a half week old Danae picked up on the crackling tension between her parents and started to cry. Sandra went over and picked the baby up out of the crib to reassure her.
“We owe a great deal to Maya. She saved Danae’s life,” Sandra said quietly and persuasively.
“I know. And she is still in a hell of a lot of pain. I know! I’ve agreed to help her have a child, isn’t that enough?” His expression was somewhere between anger and pleading.
Sandra nodded to acknowledge Alan’s decision. “Yes, and that child will be dearly loved, but it will not be their child. Maya’s and Tony’s. And I can help them with that child.” Sandra seemed determined to stay calm and work from reason. “I am young and healthy. Danae’s pregnancy was easy. I am willing to take the chance.”
“But I’m not! No one knows what a half-Psychon pregnancy will do to you!” Alan was fighting a deep fear in his gut. How could he make her understand? He looked at this small, beautiful woman with whom he had chosen to share his life. He closed his eyes and in a whisper finally said, “Sahn, I don’t want to risk losing you.”
There, it was said. Alan turned away, fists clenched as he walked toward the door. He fumbled with his commlock attempting to point it at the control panel. Sandra walked up quietly behind him and touched his back very gently.
“That risk is present every day, Alan, especially here on Alpha,” she replied softly. Not acknowledging her, he walked out the door. There was always work waiting to be done during the rebuilding of their fractured home.
As he stalked to the pilots’ ready-room to suit up, forcing himself to calm down, Alan again thought through Sandra’s argument. He understood, and even supported, Sandra’s deeply felt need to tangibly thank Maya for saving Danae’s life during the recent devastating moonquake; he was also very grateful. He just wished it didn’t involve gambling with Sahn’s health. No one knew how a Psychon-human pregnancy would progress. If Maya and Tony wished to gamble, he was fine with that and would even help. But, this was his wife, his best friend and lover, and the mother of his child, and he did not like the unknown risk she was taking being the surrogate mother hosting this fetus. Especially when Sandra had only given birth a month before. It might be selfish, but that was how he felt. Sandra had argued that time was against them. That Alpha’s women only had so many child bearing years left, even herself, and that she was among the youngest. He had taken the argument to Helena, who had very reluctantly sided with Sandra. Damn Magus and his interference. That damned alien had prevented Tony and Maya, and only Tony and Maya from having a child together. And now Sandra might have to pay the price.
In the ready-room and somewhat calmer, Alan reviewed the day’s assignments and missions. He would bump Johanson off Eagle 5, the guy needed some down time in any case, and spend the day doing hauling runs for the reconstruction crews. Mindless work to keep his mind off the argument that he feared the determined Sandra would win. He quite simply loved her too much to stand in her way for long.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The first two attempts to carry Tony’s and Maya’s child had failed almost immediately and were more emotionally than physically draining. While Alan kept his temper in check, the tension between the couple caused the command team, and especially Tony and Maya, to feel awkward in their presence. Finally, almost pleadingly, he had asked her to not consider a third attempt, to which even Tony and Maya added their support. Alan had thought Sandra had seen reason, until something prompted her to try one more time. And this time, the pregnancy took. For everyone’s sake, Alan tried to put a good face on his frustration and anxiety.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At four weeks…. this hybrid Terran-Psychon pregnancy was causing all the nausea and fatigue that Sandra had missed with Danae’s pregnancy. She was usually so queasy that Alan became sympathetically green just looking at her. At least, and grateful for small miracles, twenty week old Danae was now sleeping through the nights. It was after one particularly bad day that he curled up behind Sandra in bed, gently ‘spooning’ her and trying to provide whatever physical support he could. He gently traced her face with his fingertips.
“I wonder what the Professor would have said to all this,” He spoke softly in Sandra’s ear.
“hmmm?”
“Professor Bergman, the catacomb farms, the children, everything.”
Sandra rolled on her back to be able to see him, “He would have been delighted. He once told me Alpha would likely end up becoming a ‘generation ship’.”
“He said that? When?” he asked, continuing to gently caress her face.
“After Jackie was born.”
“Huh. I wish he could have lived to see this,” he felt anew the sadness over the Professor’s death.
“I know.” And Sandra closed her eyes, wrapping his arm about her for comfort.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
By the sixth week…. Sandra was simply too sick to work a full shift. On the good days she kept Danae with her for company, but on the days she was most ill Alan would take the five and a half month old baby to the crèche. Sandra could usually run the administrative side of the Data Section from their quarters, and did so. On occasion, she did go to Command Center when her special skills were needed, but for the most part she was confined to bed rest. And going completely batty.
Her friends had informally created what Alan called the ‘keep Sandra sane visitation society,’ and she usually had two or three visitors daily. The obstetric nurse, Fiona Lyndon, came daily, and either Tony or Maya always stopped by at lunch, and others came frequently… Helena, Alibe, Yasko, Annette Fraser, even the Commander on rare occasion.
Next to Alan, Sandra found Maya’s company to be the most engaging. Maya obviously enjoyed her visits with Sandra and Danae, for their sake as well as to ‘check’ on the progress of the pregnancy. For the first few weeks Maya arrived on crutches; her legs so terribly damaged during the moonquake were healing slowly. She could always shapechange to escape the pain for an hour, but as no healing occurred then, she preferred to simply endure.
Danae was fascinated by Maya and would happily sit in the delighted woman’s lap. The only shapechanging Maya did was to entertain her little friend who would lie against a tolerant black and white Border collie or in the arms of a small Psychon filta.
“Not many babies get to play with a living teddy bear, Maya.”
There was a shower of metamorphic light and Maya’s rippling laugh as she picked up the disgruntled little girl who was looking about for her furry playmate. “It’s fun for both of us! My mother favored that form when I was small.”
Sandra watched the two play. Maya would be a wonderful parent. “Maya…. If something happens, we, Alan and I, would like you and Tony to raise Danae.”
Maya became solemn. She nodded her acceptance. There was no need to voice platitudes that nothing would happen. “Of course, she would come and live with her heart-sib.”
Sandra rather liked that term. The child she now carried and Danae shared no blood relationship, but truly each was carried under, and within, her heart. ‘Heart-sib’ indeed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Seven weeks pregnant, Sandra was too tired to sleep…. if that was possible. She felt like she had been pregnant forever. Danae was spending the night at the Koenig’s, but Sandra simply felt too ill to be interested in anything but sleep. She rolled over to be as close to Alan as possible. On his back, almost asleep, he still adjusted his arm to gather her close. Sandra sighed with relief; she still half expected him to be standoffish. She all too clearly recalled his loud protests against this pregnancy as well as that short time, which had seemed to last forever, when things had been frosty between them. But, since she had taken the risk that was, so far, successful, he was as kind and considerate as he had been during Danae’s pregnancy. She knew he was simply worried about her.
Unlike some Alphan men, Alan did recognize the need for genetic diversity and supported the plan to limit each pairing to two children. The women who were able to bear children were being encouraged to consider having four or five children as the conditions on Alpha allowed. By necessity, this meant children by different men, and that was causing some uproar.
Sandra propped her head up on her hand and looked up into Alan’s sleeping face. She recalled the first time she had met him, that day he had dropped off her contraband needlework supplies her first week on Alpha; she had thought him such a handsome man. Now, she knew he was also a very foresightful one, and not just the space jockey others sometimes assumed. “Alan, are you awake?” She asked running her fingers over his ticklish stomach.
“No.”
Sandra chuckled. “Then wake up.”
“Why?” he mumbled, batting her fingers away but not opening his eyes. Sandra sensed that he was more alert.
“I have a question.”
“A middle of the night question? Woman, go to sleep.” He captured the offending fingers and pinned Sandra’s hand under his arm.
Not at all put off, Sandra persisted. “How did you come up with the idea for your doctoral thesis?”
Alan sighed with exasperation. Sandra was close enough the passing gust ruffled her hair. “If I tell you, will you go to sleep?”
“It depends.”
“On what?”
“Your answer.”
“You’re not going to let me sleep until I tell you, are you?” Through squinted eyes, Alan looked down on Sandra. “Alright ….let me think.” He started to rub Sandra’s lower back which caused her to completely relax and groan in pleasure, but she was not to be put off. After a few minutes she poked Alan in the ribs to continue. Alan chuckled, a pleasant sensation Sandra could feel through her cheek resting on his chest. “Alright, you knew I lived in Houston for a while back in the early 1990’s as an exchange officer of sorts from the Royal Australian Air Force?”
“I do now.”
“Hmph. At the beginning, I had the worst time trying to get my days and nights turned around. I ended up watching a lot of nighttime telly in the lobby of the bachelor officer’s quarters. One of the other pilots was a history buff and we always watched old documentaries. Well, one show that we watched again and again was about a small group of Vikings from Greenland who settled North America centuries ago. It talked about the number of colonists needed for a sustainable community without too much inbreeding. Through sheer repetition, it made an impression.
“It didn’t really take too much to stretch that to a space colony, or perhaps a generation ship.” Alan shrugged. ”I didn’t do anything with the idea until that Space Commission desk jockey came up with his idiot doctoral plan. I already had a fairly solid statistical background, the engineering classes in flight school had pounded in the math, and my time in Houston gave me practical programming experience. All I needed was a good hard push, a whole lot of time and a decent computer. The Space Commission’s plan did the first …”
“And the Mars Mission provided the rest,” finished Sandra.
“The reading really did become interesting after a while,” Alan recalled, and then sighed with regret. “But I never thought I would have to live with my own conclusions.” Helena had lifted the two-children-per-couple recommendation and several others straight from Alan’s thesis, but at his request had not revealed the author. He had told Sandra long before that he thought that revelation would weaken Helena’s position. After all, who really expected a space jockey to have brains? Alan loosened his inadvertently tight grip on Sandra as she scooted up a bit higher. She lightly traced her fingertips on his lips, and then moved even closer.
“I love you,” Sandra whispered with her kiss, and then curled up next to her amazing man and fell asleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In Sandra’s ninth week of pregnancy, Helena arrived one morning looking completely unlike the usually polished and refined CMO. She was wearing John’s pair of sweatpants with the elastic and ties stretched to their maximum. The top was an old U.S. Air Force Academy sweatshirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. She was two weeks past her due date. Helena took one look at the ubiquitous white chair present in the quarters and sat on the bed next to Sandra and swung her swollen feet up on the coverlet. “Oomph. I’m looking forward to seeing my feet again.” Sandra had to laugh as the absurdity of it all. Never had the designer’s foreseen pregnant women waddling around Alpha. If they had, they might have provided more comfortable chairs!
Helena noticed The Complete Sherlock Holmes on the bed between them. It was one of the rare bound books on Alpha. Before Breakaway, scientists would on occasion bring up favored books as part of their small personal-items weight allowance, and then leave them behind at the end of their duty assignment in favor of souvenirs, often moon rocks. There seemed to be an old-style envelope as a book mark. Curious, with a glance for permission, Helena picked up and opened the book. The envelope contained about a dozen photographs, clearly of Sandra’s family.
Sandra watched Helena go through the photos slowly. This difficult pregnancy had made Sandra reflect more on her own mother. After Sandra, Elizabeth Benes had never been able to carry another pregnancy to term. Sandra had searched and searched her quarters, and had finally found the fifteen or so photographs she had of her family, a gift from her younger sister just prior to the start of her third tour, which was to have been her last. So many might-have-beens, sighed Sandra.
As Helena looked at the happy faces smiling out at her from many locations around Earth, she realized she knew very little of Sandra’s past outside the facts in her medical file. She knew Sandra’s father was a British professor who had once traveled widely. Her mother’s family had been from Burma. There were two brothers and two sisters, but Helena seemed to recall that they were from a different mother. Sandra, like most Alphans, was exceptionally healthy with only the usual childhood illnesses. Her psych profile revealed a reserved personality with an exceptional gift for data manipulation and organization. Helena held each photo in turn with a silent Sandra watching. There was a wedding couple from what appeared to be the early 1970’s. She was surprised when Sandra started speaking about the photos.
“My father met my mother after a flight into London.”
“Oh? Did she live there?”
“No, she was the pilot.”
Helena looked at the tall, handsome early forty-ish blue-eyed man with a European look standing next to a petite and very lovely Asian woman. There were two preteen boys and one teen-aged girl, all with the look of their father standing in attendance. “What are your brothers’ and sister’s names?”
“That is Alec, Ian and Eve Marie, I have a younger sister, also, Julia, but she was born to my father’s third wife.” Sandra selected out one photo of a younger, college-aged Sandra holding a distinctly European looking green-eyed toddler.”
Helena pulled out another photo; it showed a long-haired, teenaged Sandra standing next to her mother in front of a Cessna Citation XLS light aircraft. They both wore what appeared to be flight jackets and very big smiles.
“That was taken in Canada, just after my solo qualifying flight.” And just before she died, Sandra added to herself.
Helena looked at her. “You flew airplanes? I remember you once saying you became airsick.”
Sandra managed to look both sheepish and sad. “I had made it a habit to say that whenever someone asked if I were going to be a commercial pilot, like my mother. It hurt too much to think of her. She taught me how to fly. I was certified on small, fixed-wing aircraft. Unofficially, I also had flight time in Lear Jets and helicopters under her supervision.” After a pause, she added, “With Peter, I even had a chance to fly an Eagle simulator.”
Helena’s thoughts raced as she thought of meaning of what she had just been told. “You mean you held a pilot’s license?”
“Only a noncommercial one, but yes.” Sandra felt awkward. Only her family had known of her desire to fly.
“And Alan doesn’t know?” asked Helena. To her surprise, Sandra appeared very uncomfortable.
“I do not think so. I have never thought it that important, not compared to what he can do.”
Helena looked bemused and then delighted. “And here he’s probably been thinking your Eagle flight skills are all a testament to his teaching! Do you plan to tell him?”
“No,” Sandra answered with a small, self-conscious shake of her head.
Helena would have to respect that. With a smile, she neatly restacked the photos and returned them to their envelope, wondering what other stories they held.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Alibe’s daily visits were brief, but always informative. As Sandra’s second she provided daily updates on the status of Command Center and the Data Section. She was also a main relay point on the informal Alpha gossip net and would update Sandra on all the important social news that Alan was usually oblivious to. The day after Sandra and Helena had looked at the photos, Alibe had the best news yet: Annette Fraser was pregnant again, and Helena Russell had gone into labor.
When Alan arrived back that evening, Sandra all but pounced on him. “Well?”
“We don’t know yet. Helena’s still in labor.”
Sandra reached for her commlock, but didn’t know whom she would call. It really wasn’t her place, but she was very concerned on her friend’s behalf. Any pregnancy over the age of forty carried an extra risk. But, then again, so was attempting to carry a half-Psychon fetus.
Alan saw her gesture, and with a small grin gave her a sympathetic hug. He apparently appreciated how stranded Sandra felt… the head of data and communications stuck on bed rest. “Alibe will let us know, if John doesn’t call first.”
At 0200 hours, Commander John Koenig woke the Carter family to announce the arrival of his son, Stephen Victor. Mother and baby were doing well.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In Sandra’s tenth week, about six days after the Stephen Koenig’s birth, Annette Fraser joined Maya for a visit. Danae wriggled in Sandra’s arms to be put down, and then with great determination scooted over to Maya and touched the crutches. “Here, little one,” said Maya as she passed the crutches to Annette and picked up the happy little girl. “I don’t need them much anymore except when I have far to go,” she said to Sandra by way of explanation. Sandra stayed reclining on the sofa while the others spread out a coverlet on the floor and sat down. Danae regarded Annette from Maya’s lap with distrust, but quickly became curious when all the small bits of fabric and different colored threads appeared from the carry sack.
Annette was cautiously hopeful about her current pregnancy. Fiona, the obstetric nurse, felt that the stress of the moonquake had played a significant roll in her earlier miscarriage, but no one would know for certain until she carried to term. A few women had had serial miscarriages.
“How lovely,” Sandra commented when she saw the small patchwork quiltlet that Annette was piecing. “Where did you find the material and thread?”
Annette shrugged. “Here and there. The thread I mostly brought with me to do embroidery. The fabric I found in Laundry after that call they made for old clothes to remake into children’s things. Some scraps were too small even for that use, so I was allowed to have them.” Sandra looked closer and recognized the colors from uniform sleeves, the ubiquitous beige, and some very faded patterns that must have come from personal items. “I haven’t come up with a backing yet, but I’ll find something.”
Maya was kept busy distracting the inquisitive Danae while the women talked, mostly about the progress of rebuilding Alpha. Bill and Alan were out in Eagles constantly, helping to move items to where they were most needed. Tony helped to coordinate from the ground, but even he flew quite a bit to help relieve the regular pilots. The few pilot trainees, including Maya, were getting plenty of practice in learning the fine control of Eagle flight. Sandra deeply wished she could join them; she hated being grounded. As they watched Danae gum a small piece of fabric, their talk gradually shifted to the expectations different people had for the future children of Alpha.
“Your world, such amazingly different cultures. It’s like…” and she gestured toward Annette’s needlework.
“A patchwork quilt,” offered Sandra.
“Yes, Earth reminds me of a patchwork quilt.”
Sandra like that imagery.
“Psychon was very…..homogeneous. The same race, the same religion. Our population was always small compared to Earth’s, and until the end, we had enough resources for all.”
“No wars?” asked Sandra.
“Oh, no,” Maya was horrified. “But, when philosophical schisms became too much, groups would break away and leave Psychon. That happened many, many times. And, there has always been an… unstable element in some of our most brilliant people.” There was little Sandra or Annette could add to that.
Sandra thought that the Alphans would most likely become a homogeneous people within a few generations. Perhaps the addition of a dash of Psychon would keep things interesting.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Yasko made a rare visit one morning a few days after Annette’s quilting visit. She was en route to the gym, or at least that was Sandra’s guess as Yasko was dressed in a faded pair of sweats and had failed to volunteer any information. Yasko’s social skills were marginal at best. Sandra knew that many people regarded Yasko as being a bit silly, Alan included. She and Tony were among the few that gave her her due. Tony because he and each member of security were trounced on a regular bases by the fourth degree Judo black belt, and Sandra ever since she had heard her give a visiting professor’s lecture in data management at McGill University. She was brilliant.
Yasko and Danae regarded each other dubiously. After a brief, stilted visit, Yasko left. On her way out she briefly glanced at the framed picture of the Tampa Tribune article about Alan landing an Eagle at the University of South Florida at his doctoral defense. Sandra knew how fast Yasko assimilated information. She wondered if Yasko would say anything…. Alan never spoke of it, and she had better ask Yasko not to either. An awkward visit all together, but she had to give Yasko her due for stopping by.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Twelve weeks into Sandra’s pregnancy, Alan ran into Rachael Simms while coming out from the cafeteria. His grip on the carry sack he had just picked up spasmed tightly. He had been ‘running’ into Rachael quite a bit in the last few weeks although for the most part he politely ignored her. He attempted to walk around her, distractedly worried about Sandra. She was having a really rough go this time and was constantly tired and nauseated. She ate very little and seemed to have withdrawn from him some. That last had him the most worried and Alan had decided that he was going to change things, or at least how things stood between them even if he couldn’t do anything else.
His way was blocked. Rachael was tall, blond and lovely, the type that had always caught his attention. She was a New Zealand chemist with whom he had spent more than a few pleasant evenings during that first year after Breakaway. She had eventually become too possessive for his taste and he had drifted away. Apparently, Rachael had never completely lost interest. Alan greeted her politely then stepped around her to walk on to Pad 1. With a sinking feeling in his gut he realized Rachael was walking with him. Suddenly, she stepped in front of him and turned about, effectively blocking the way, a sultry smile on her lips. “How is Sandra doing, Alan?” she asked.
“Alright, considering no one knows what to expect.” Where was this going?
“I hear she hasn’t been in Command Center for a few weeks. Too sick to do
much, hmm?”
“Yeah, well, she does what she can from our quarters.” He deliberately looked
over Rachael’s shoulder in the direction he wanted to continue.
“I imagine that makes for some dull evenings.” Rachael leaned in toward Alan, lightly running a fingertip down his orange-sleeved arm.
Alan leveled a look at her. He now knew exactly where this was heading. Rachael had been one of the pilot applicants who had tried to take lessons from him. She had lost interest when he had delegated teaching duties to others. “No games, Rachael. Say what you want.” He took her hand off his arm pointedly and returned it to her.
She shrugged. “You are always welcome to visit my quarters… you always did have a healthy, ah, libido.”
“My ‘libido’ is just fine. G’day.” He broke eye contact and deliberately made to step around her. Rachael reached out quickly to hold him back.
“Damn it, Alan, I want a child too, and you are my choice for the father.”
Alan answered that with a voice laden with sarcasm, “Rachael, if you haven’t noticed, I’m married.” She had been one of the reasons he had gone to such lengths to find wedding bands for himself and Sandra. Rachael looked disgusted… with his married state or his choice of wife he wasn’t sure.
“That doesn’t matter.” With Rachael’s voice starting to rise, Alan looked around and pulled her to a side corridor. “Even Koenig and Russell are encouraging it. They want the ‘widest genetic base possible.’” Alan flinched to hear his words tossed back at him in such a manner, even if Rachael didn’t know the real author. “Sandra doesn’t need to know.”
Alan forced himself to pause a minute and restrain his growing anger. He answered in a low and intense voice. “When I father a child for another woman, it will be because I have respect for her and I know the child will have a good home. And Sandra will know about it.”
Rachael flushed a deep crimson and left in a high temper.
Alan took a few deep breaths. Well done, Carter, he grimaced. He smoothed the top of the carry sack and glanced inside to make sure the contents had survived intact. To have his work twisted so was inevitable, he thought with resignation. After regaining his composure, he exited the short corridor. As he turned the corner, he found Tony leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed loosely across his chest.
“Your sordid past coming back to haunt you?” the security chief asked with an understanding smirk.
“Well…you weren’t exactly a monk either, my friend.” A change of subject was in order. “Thanks for doing this Tony.” They continued on toward Eagle Bay 1.
“No problem. We’re all set up for a little guest to stay over, and Maya has been digging through the data base and trying different forms. Do you think Danae would like a kitten?”
“Yeah, but you might want to warn Maya that she’s in a hair grabbing stage.”
“Ouch. How about a Shetland pony then? Maybe Maya will throw in a saddle,” Tony said with an almost, though not quite, straight face.
Alan refused to rise to the bait. “Wait until Danae is walking at least. And don’t forget the safety gear when you do.” Tony swallowed his laughter. The two men turned down the side corridor to the ‘Outback’ section of quarters.
Alan finished the trip deep in thought. He had hopes that Sandra might feel well enough for an evening of lovemaking. But, if not, well, he had survived the Mars Mission, and he would survive this pregnancy. He had to admit, though, while celibacy might be virtuous, it was most certainly not fun. But Sandra was worth the wait. Alan had plans to make sure Sandra knew how very pleased he was with his choice of a wife, most especially right now, on the night of their first anniversary.
Sandra put down the stylus. She had been able to get quite a bit of work done refining and finalizing the schematics for a simple, child appropriate commlock, as well as work on her needlework project a little. She looked at the commpost’s chronometer. Alan should be back soon. His days were sometimes very long with all the repair work still going on, but the task of repairing Alpha’s extensive damage from the moonquake was proceeding well. From Alibe’s reports, she knew the emergency patch on Nuclear Generator 2 was completely repaired and improvements suggested by the engineers included. The catacomb farm that had been ripped open to the moon’s surface was resealed and pressurized and crops had been replanted. The biodome trees were even budding out again. Only the damage to the travel tube network was left… and that had turned out to be extensive. Repairs were slow and difficult and often required Eagle lifting power to realign the sections.
Lost in thought, and feeling extremely frustrated at not being able to help much, Sandra was startled when the door opened. Alan walked in carrying a small carry sack, and to her surprise was followed by Tony who walked over to her on the sofa and gave her a peck on the check. “Congratulations on surviving one year with Alan,” he said with a wry smile. He looked around the quarters until he found his small silver haired target crawling behind the sofa. He went down on one knee and held his arms out to her. “Come to Uncle Tony, little one. Your Auntie Maya has a new playmate for you to meet.” Danae was very fond of Tony but adored Maya and eagerly looked around Tony to see her friend.
“No, she’s not here. We have to go find her!” And with that, Danae crawled to Tony and off they went.
Alan laughed when he saw her face. “You forgot, didn’t you?” Sandra nodded feeling mortified. How could she have forgotten? Alan walked over to her and went down on one knee by the sofa. He wrapped her in a hug that was full of laughter and love. He then picked her up and settled on the sofa with her in his lap. “How are you feeling? Queasy?”
“Better, today,” Sandra answered, her arms wrapped around Alan’s neck, her forehead resting against his cheek. She enjoyed the simple physical contact.
Alan looked pleased at that and handed her the small carry sack. Feeling bad that she had nothing to give in return, Sandra sat up and opened the bag. Inside she found an assortment of fresh cookies… a special treat dietary made only on occasion. And although the odor of the treats turned her stomach, she was touched by his thoughtfulness. “Thank you, Alan.” She tightly closed the top and put the carry sack on the table, pushing it as far away as she could unobtrusively reach. She turned back to her lover and studied him for a moment. This pregnancy was, in its own way, as hard on him as it was on her. She traced his face with her fingers, Alan closing his eyes in pleasure, and then leaned forward to brush her lips against his. She laughed gently at his immediate, enthusiastic response. She leaned in again, this time to share a much more promising kiss. With his interest suddenly and readily apparent, she slipped off his lap and held out her hand to him. Smiling broadly, he took it most willingly and escorted her back to the bedroom.
To Sandra’s delight, Alan then proceeded carefully, cautiously, but quite thoroughly, to make her night simply spectacular.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
During the fourteenth week of Sandra’s pregnancy, as the child became more and more active, more ‘real,’ Alan started to wonder if Sandra would be able to give it up to be raised by others. He was beginning to have second thoughts, and he had no real connection to this new person. One evening, lying exhausted after a day of moving construction equipment around the travel tube perimeter both by Eagle and by sheer brute manpower, he finally had the nerve to ask. “Sandra, love, how are you going to feel when Maya and Tony take this child home with them?”
She gave the question due consideration. “It will be difficult, but I try to remember he is really only visiting.” She rested her hand on her stomach. “And it is not like he will ever truly be out of our lives. He will always be Danae’s ‘heart-sib,’” and then Sandra explained Maya’s wonderful expression.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At sixteen weeks, Tony arrived for the usual lunchtime visit bearing a small beaker of orange liquid that Sandra regarded from her spot on the sofa with extreme dubiousness. She still had occasional waves of incapacitating nausea.
“Have faith, Sandra. I would never bring anything that might hurt you or the baby. In fact, it was on your behalf that I exerted a great deal of charm and sweet-talked four oranges out of Shermeen.” He poured a small glass of orange juice and passed it to Sandra with a flourish. “Rest assured, Maya made sure it was approved by both Fiona and Frederick!”
Well, if both the obstetric and pediatric nurses approved… she was glad today wasn’t a queasy day. Sandra took a sip. It was very good.
They sat companionably in silence. Danae realized that there was a visitor and crawled over to see. She and Tony played peek-a-boo around Sandra’s legs. “Tony, may I ask you a personal question?”
“Given the current circumstances, I’d say yes.”
“You were raised in Italy?”
“Yes,” replied Tony as he poured the remaining orange juice into a glass for himself.
“Then how did you learn to speak English without an accent?”
“Ah…. for that, you can thank my mother.” He bent over and scooped up Danae then sat back down and propped his feet up on the small sofa table. Danae studied Tony from her perch on his lap. “She was a true Anglophile, even when it was most assuredly not the thing to be. She was fascinated by all the British greats… Shakespeare, Chaucer, Tennyson.” Tony shrugged. “She came from a very educated family, you see, that encouraged her to read in the original language.” Danae was clumsily reaching for the patches on Tony’s jacket sleeve. “With the help of my grandmama, she learned how to read English, but was frustrated by not understanding the nuances, especially in Chaucer.”
“I can understand that,” murmured Sandra, remembering her own school years.
“She earned a two year scholarship to study literature at a small British university and found a tutor to help her with her accent.” Danae decided that the patches were worth exploring further and studiously tried to gum them off. “After she married papa, they both realized that English was turning into the language of science and aviation. Mama taught all her children English, as well as the cousins. We spent all our holidays overseas to practice.”
“And hence, Anthony and not Antonio.”
Tony raised his glass of orange juice in mock salute. “I’m just glad that she went to England and not the States or,” and here he gave a mock shudder, “Australia.” Sandra just laughed. Preparing to return to duty, Tony picked up Danae and placed her on the ground, mopping the baby drool off his sleeve with a resigned sigh.
After she finished the orange juice, the baby inside her started moving and kicking. “Tony, give me your hand.” Sandra took the offered hand and placed it over the moving baby.
Tony looked very humble.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At twenty weeks…. although Sandra had just about the blackest thumb on Alpha, she was beginning to entertain the idea of asking for a small potted plant. Anything for a spot of color. She was dreadfully tired of the unremitting white in her quarters. Alan had arranged to have some of the light panels changed to a muted cream color, but that did not really help. She had mentioned this wish to Fiona at her check-up and so should not have been surprised when Maya showed up the next day with a small potted spider plant. What did surprise her was that botanist Eddie Collins followed her in pushing a wheelchair.
Maya could appreciate how enforced bedrest could be tiresome, but the frustration with white walls was beyond her. She had grown up in an environment not unlike Alpha’s given that Psychon was in its death throes even when she was young. She had never had a chance to run and play outside as had all the Terran-born Alphans.
“We have something to show you in the catacomb farm, Sandra,” Eddie said, looking a bit awkward as he always did.
“Helena and Fiona have given permission as long as you don’t walk much,” Maya added with a smile and a gesture toward the wheeled chair.
Sandra hated the idea of using a wheelchair; it made her feel like an invalid. The desire though to go somewhere, anywhere, other than her quarters was overwhelming. With only a brief hesitation, she moved from the sofa to the chair and sat down. Maya placed an inquisitive Danae in Sandra’s arms and led the procession out.
Catacomb Farm 3 was a spacious cavern with a roof that extended five to eight meters overhead and covered a respectable twenty-five meters by forty meters. With its open feeling it reminded Sandra a little of the old Main Mission. The smell of the warm, enriched lunar soil was not exactly like that of Earth, but it still had a rich loamy scent. When it had been torn open to the surface during the moonquake, Eddie Collins’ wife, Shermeen, had been devastated by the loss of Alpha’s first cotton crop. She had carefully nurtured the seeds from a cache found in a storage container of retired experiments. On her insistence, one of the first tasks during restoration had been to reseal the breach and replant the lost crops.
While most food was grown hydroponically, some crops, so far, simply did better in soil. Along with cotton, there were now a few rows of what was called ‘Indian corn’ by North Americans. It came from an ear carried to Alpha for ceremonial purposes by a Canadian Ojibwa pilot. If the colorful ears matured, it would be an added plus for their diet.
The scent of growing things was a wonderful tonic to Sandra’s doldrums. Maya nodded to herself, satisfied that her plan was so successful.
Danae was enchanted by the small leaves and buds on the plants as well as the bees that buzzed around. Sandra enjoyed the information Eddie shared as he took time to explain each crop. She knew that the bees had come from a low gravity project sponsored by a Russian primary school at the time of Breakaway, but hadn’t realized that they were doing so well. As she watched a honey bee fly industriously past, Sandra noticed Maya looking at the cavern’s roof. “Maya?”
“….. just thinking.” Maya looked contemplative. “Yes, I think so.” Maya turned to look at Danae with a mischievous smile and, in a shower of light, changed into a colorful macaw which flew over Danae and Sandra trailing long, vibrant feathers. As Maya turned and flew off to the far end of the cavern, Danae looked up at Sandra and laughed with childish joy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The day after Sandra’s visit to the catacomb farm, Alan assigned himself to Eagle Maintenance. He thus found himself on his back of a flight deck, head and torso stuck deep into the innards of Eagle 5’s ‘nose.’ With the heavy, unremitting use of the Eagle fleet during the reconstruction, everyone with the knowledge was pressed into service to help with maintenance. The Eagles were incredibly study machines with multiple layers of redundancy, but even so, parts wore out and failed, especially as the old girls had been forced into duties their creators never envisioned. While Manufacturing had become very talented in making replacement parts, practical considerations meant that some redundant tell-tales and circuits had to be scavenged to keep the primary systems running. Routine maintenance was vital; but, thought Alan, what he wouldn’t give for just one Eagle hold full of new spare parts. He sighed. Every Eagle that had ever crashed on the lunar surface had been retrieved and scavenged of every usable part. What was left over was given to Manufacturing to be melted down and recast, reprocessed or otherwise reused. The dead pilots, or whatever was left of them, were given honorable burials. Like some pilots morbidly joked, it was important to keep the moon tidy.
To be honest, Alan fully expected one day to join his peers who had died in crashes, but he hoped it wouldn’t be soon. For Sandra’s sake. He paused for a moment and thought of that last. While there were many drawbacks besides just the obvious to being marooned on Alpha, at least everyone looked out for each other. When something, inevitably, happened to him, Sandra and Danae would be watched over.
Finally at the point where he needed it, Alan groped around the floor outside the access hatch for the part he had left there. Unexpectedly, it was placed in his hand. “Thanks,” he told his unknown assistant in a voice muffled by insulation.
“No problem,” answered Tony.
After fitting the ‘new’ piece in place, Alan carefully backed out and replaced the hatchway door. “I thought you didn’t have a donkey shift until tomorrow?” Alan asked as he sat up, looking at a suited Tony who was stretched out comfortably in the co-pilot’s seat. “What brings you out this way?”
“I switched shifts with Kevin.”
Well, that’s really no surprise, thought Alan. This was Maya’s next shift also. Maya was doing well in her flight training, as she did everything well that she tried. Must be nice to be from such a brilliant, if slightly crazy, people.
“Alan, we’re concerned about Sahn. She looks like hell.” Maya had told Tony her worries after the trip she had taken with Sandra to Catacomb Farm 3 the day prior. “Do you think she can make it?”
“What choice does she have now?” Alan replied, carefully trying to keep his frustration in check and his face neutral, recalling that Tony had actually tried to talk Sandra out of the final attempt that resulted in this pregnancy. The worst part was that no one knew how long this would take… the 25 weeks typical for a Psychon, or the forty for a human? Lord, he didn’t think she would make it to forty. She was only at twenty weeks now and was always tired and faded. He wondered if he would ever get the old Sahn back.
Tony scrunched down in the seat, his hands resting idly on the controls, a blank stare on his face. “She didn’t really have to do this, you know.”
“Yeah, right.” Alan gave a derisive snort remembering his and Sandra’s rather loud ‘discussions’ on the matter. Sandra had been determined. “Does Maya still want to try it after seeing what Sandra’s going through?” Tony nodded his head miserably. Alan knew that as much as Tony wanted to have kids, he also knew Tony felt neither Sandra’s nor Maya’s life was worth it. “Soon?” Another unhappy nod from Tony. “Right.” And with that, Alan decided to delay starting the contraceptive shots from Medical until he could make the donation he’d promised. If he had anything to say about it, he was going to make sure Sandra did not rush into another pregnancy.
They heard the pod doors cycle open and Maya’s quick steps down the short walkway. Alan excused himself and went to arrange the transfer of Eagle 5 to the lunch pad to begin its next shift rebuilding Alpha.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At twenty-four weeks, the Commander paid a rare visit to Sandra. His intentions to visit more frequently were usually sabotaged by the inevitable minor emergencies that arose during Alpha’s rebuilding. Koenig found that he missed the quiet Head of Data Analysis. Her presence tended to balance the more forceful personalities present in Command Center.
Danae liked John Koenig, and would happily go to him even in preference to Helena, to the doctor’s chagrin. “The blue eyes remind her of her father, that’s all,” John would sooth his slightly miffed wife.
“No, she’s simply gotten so used to being held by just about every Alphan that she no longer has any discrimination!” was the tart reply.
Sandra relaxed as she held fifteen week old Stephen and enjoyed the interplay between the two most influential people on Alpha. After a short while, the Commander excused himself leaving Helena and Sandra to visit.
“How are you feeling, Helena?”
“Quite well.” She then laughed and wiggled her booted feet. “It’s been especially nice to re-acquaint myself with my toes! And yourself, Sandra?”
“Very tired. I really do need to stay down or I start to have problems. Fiona ran some tests and says things appear alright.” Sandra shrugged. No one knew what to expect. Normal human gestation was forty weeks, and as best as Maya could recall, a Psychon pregnancy lasted somewhere around twenty-five weeks. Sandra, at twenty-four weeks, still felt fairly miserable. She looked pregnant but had failed to gain much weight due to the nausea. Her face was very thin and the dark circles under her eyes prominent.
Helena calmly studied her friend and patient. “You will need to regain quite a bit before you try for another pregnancy.” Sandra was healthy overall, but the two pregnancies so close together had taken a lot from her. Especially this one. Though she would only admit it to John, Helena half suspected this pregnancy had survived based on Sandra’s sheer determination. “Stephen’s asleep in his carrier. I’ll stay and watch Danae, you take a nap. Medical can find me if they have need.”
Sandra gratefully curled up on the sofa and quickly fell asleep knowing Danae was in excellent hands.
Helena moved to the computer to work on ‘paperwork’ when The Complete Sherlock Holmes caught her eye. It sat on a small bookshelf full of other loaned books, and next to a picture of a smiling, adolescent Alan wearing what she would call a cowboy’s hat. He looked to be about sixteen and had a deep tan, sun-bleached hair, and his arm was around a panting black and white Border collie. The photos were still in their bookmark envelope. She took a few more minutes to finish looking at the pictures she had missed on that prior visit, and then virtuously worked on the computer until Sandra awoke forty minutes later. “Feeling better?”
“Yes, a little.”
Helena stood up and started to gather up her son and all his paraphernalia. “Did you ever decide to tell Alan about the pilot’s license?”
Sandra shook her head no. “I do not wish to embarrass him.”
“Sahn, Alan is well-nigh un-embarrassable.” Helena laughed, tossing her blond hair back from her face. She did have one more question. “Sandra, what happened to your mother?” Sandra was silent for so long that Helena wondered if she had inadvertently crossed a personal line.
“Her plane was shot down by terrorists in the months leading up to the Global War in 1987, just a few months after that picture was taken.” The eyes she turned on Helena still had a trace of remembered bleakness.
Helena nodded, and with a touch of sympathy on Sandra’s arm, departed.
With remembered sadness and love, Sandra picked up Danae and cuddled the sleepy girl. She wondered how she would tell her silver haired daughter about the grandmother who had once dreamed about being an astronaut, and had passed that dream on to her daughter, who now traveled far beyond the sources of the dimmest stars her grandmama had even seen.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At twenty-eight weeks, Alan was becoming more and more worried about Sandra. The medical details went over his head, but he knew enough to be concerned. She was becoming so very thin and listless. She still just about fitted into her regular uniform, and he knew that wasn’t normal. Helena had confided that the lack of weight gain had her very concerned. Sandra’s reserves were being consumed and she couldn’t eat enough to keep up. No one knew when this was going to come to an end, but the recent tests seemed to show the child was small but well developed now at 28 weeks. Since Psychon pregnancies only lasted around 25 weeks, the medical staff hoped delivery would be soon.
He jerked his mind from the useless spin of frustration and back to the job at hand. Forty-two weeks after the ‘quake and repair work was finally coming to an end. Alan and Tony were on an early ‘morning’ walkabout outside one of the last lengths of travel tube to be repaired. Although not part of the original building team, Tony’s attention to detail was invaluable, and, as always, Alan had jumped at the chance to get outside Alpha’s walls. Bill Fraser and his current trainee, a security officer who had flown light planes on Earth, were almost immediately overhead moving a drop net full of crates of building materials.
As Tony reviewed the scanner’s findings with Maya in Command Center, Alan looked up to watch the Eagles dance above Alpha. He never tired of watching Alpha’s faithful workhorses either on the ground or in flight. If they had still been in Earth’s orbit, he would have undoubtedly been ‘bumped up’ the administrative ladder by now. Here and now, he still got to fly as much as he wanted. And he was still the best pilot Alpha had, Alan thought with a bit of honest pride. He watched Bill’s Eagle use its lateral thrusters to position itself over the nearby building platform awaiting the dangling crates. Something wasn’t right……
Two of the small positional thrusters on the off side were firing erratically. Alan grabbed his commlock to alert Bill to compensate when the Eagle suddenly slewed sideways and headed straight toward him. The Eagle’s main thrusters immediately engaged to take it up and away from the fragile buildings and occupants, but not before the dangling crates separated. The Eagle’s sudden last-second change in direction imparted a lateral momentum to the crates that launched them straight toward the unprotected men.
“Tony, down now!” yelled Alan as he threw himself toward the unaware security chief. He managed to knock Tony safely out of the way before his view as lost to a shower of crates. There was a bolt of pain down his right arm as he faded out.
“Alan! Acknowledge!” came Fraser’s voice as he brought the Eagle back overhead in a search pattern.. “Tony… I see him. He’s under the crates on the far side of your location.”
“We’re sending help now,” Alan could hear Maya’s calm voice.
“Copy that, I see him.” Tony slowly made it around the scattered crates and pushed off the ones that had landed on top of Alan. “Come on, Alan, up you go.” Alan tried to help, but his right arm wouldn’t quite cooperate. Tony tried to pull him up by that arm. Damn, but the pain was excruciating.
“I’m alright, just got the wind knocked out.” Alan panted as the rescue moonbuggy Maya had dispatched arrived on site.
“Yeah, well, we’ll just let Medical make that call, come on.” Tony watched carefully as Alan climbed into the buggy. “Escort Captain Carter to Medical and don’t let him weasel his way out of it,” Tony ordered the rescue team member. As the buggy moved off, Tony stayed behind with the remaining team member to start putting order to this newest mess.
Helena Russell gave Alan a thorough going over but could only find a broken right clavicle. With a muttered comment about hard-headed pilots, she released him to rest in his quarters the remainder of the day.
Maya was watching Danae during her lunch break as Sandra napped in the back room; the profound fatigue was now almost incapacitating. To the surprise of the two playmates, the door opened and Alan walked in, his right arm in a sling. Maya would have shifted back to her proper form out of politeness, but Danae was standing against her and hanging on tightly to her fur. Alan squatted down on his ankles and held out his left arm to the little girl.
“G’day, Maya. Thanks for the help this morning.” The dog yipped a ‘your welcome.’ If he was startled to see his old Border collie standing in the middle of his quarters, Alan hid it well. ”It might not make a difference, but ‘Mike’ was male.” Maya stood and padded slowly over to Alan, letting Danae ‘walk’ hanging onto her back. The little girl happily fell into her father’s good arm and patted the nice ‘doggie’ before it backed away. Maya changed back in a shower of light that brought a delighted laugh from the child.
“I wonder what Danae makes of you, Maya.”
Maya shrugged. She tried not to stand out among her fellow Alphans, but some things were just unavoidable. She reached out and touched the child’s face. “It’s fun for both of us. What kind of work did ‘Mike’ do?” She had checked with Computer and had found that Border collies were considered ‘working dogs.’
“Besides keeping an eye on me? He helped move the cattle on my family’s station and generally pestered the ducks to distraction.” Alan looked toward the back room.
“She’s resting,” Maya answered the unspoken question. “‘I’m glad you came, I need to get back to Command Center. How are you doing? How is your arm?” Maya asked in concern eyeing the sling.
“I’m fine. It’s nothing much, a broken clavicle is all.”
After Maya left, he headed to the small kitchenette to find some food. The clean plate and cup in the sink implied that Danae had already had her lunch. Except for toddler food, the shelves were bare. He looked at his daughter. “How would you like to go on a trip to the cafeteria? Yeah, I know, rhetorical question. Well, let’s leave a note for your Mum.” He left a quick recorded message on the commpost in case Sandra should awaken, and then with his tiny silver-haired daughter on his arm he left in search of lunch.
After picking up a sandwich and apple, a sore Alan settled on the sofa in his quarters with a sleeping Danae cuddled up against his chest. She was exhausted from playing with the canine Maya. The comforting odor of ‘dog’ lingering on his daughter brought a smile to his face; it had taken him a moment to recognize that once familiar smell. The position on the sofa was a bit awkward due to his arm being in the sling, but with effort he had accommodated his daughter, the lunch…. and Sandra’s photos. He was surprised to find that Sandra had a photo collection, much less that she had left the photos in their envelope sitting out on the sofa, only half hidden under her current needlework project. Even with him, she was very private when it came to her family. Feeling only a little guilty, and a lot curious, he pulled the photos out and shuffled through them. Alan ate his lunch methodically while he looked through the photos, though staying alert to brush crumbs off Danae’s sleeping head. The crumbs always bothered Sandra for some reason.
There were a few photos from all over the world, including one at the Sydney Opera House that called up a wave of emotion. Swallowing hard, he turned his attention to the ones of Sandra and her parents. Elizabeth Benes was an exquisitely beautiful woman with the delicate features of the peoples of Southeast Asia. She had been even tinier than her daughter, if that was possible. Sandra’s father, Professor Lawrence Benes, did not match the look he had always thought typical of a British national. There was a distinctly European flare to him that was most apparent when he stood surrounded by his children wearing the medal of a Nobel Laureate.
Alan reshuffled the photos awkwardly with one hand and went through them again, focusing on the children. Sandra’s lovely Eurasian features were a blending of the best of her parents. There seemed to be quite a few brothers and sisters at different ages, and he seemed to vaguely recognize the girl with Sandra in the photo taken at Disneyworld. Alan wasn’t sure how many siblings there were, only that none of them had Sandra’s look. Her father must have been married multiple times. Alan was amazed at how little he knew about a woman he had been married to for greater than a year and had known for at least seven.
The most interesting pictures, though, were the ones with aircraft. He first thought that Sahn’s father must have piloted, but then he kicked himself for missing the obvious. It was Sandra’s mother who was in the pictures with Sandra at the Kennedy Space Center at Cape Canaveral, the European Space Agency headquarters in Paris, Vandenberg AFB in California and the Johnson Space Center in Houston. It shouldn’t be too hard to verify, he thought.
After shifting Danae to the sofa, Alan stretched out his stiffening muscles and made his way to the Computer linkup. He sat down, deep in thought. It took only a few awkward keystrokes to verify that Elizabeth Benes, nee Aung, was a British subject who had piloted corporate jets around the world. He was even able to confirm that she had applied to the European Space Agency for astronaut consideration, but had been rejected based on the inability to pass the physical. Too small, he imagined. The archaic American standards, which the ESA had mostly copied, had a minimum height requirement that stemmed from old U.S. Air Force test pilot requirements. Well, Alpha had done away with those.
It took quite a bit more digging, but his next hunch proved right, too. Sandra had also held a pilot’s license. Only for light aircraft to be sure, but it had been awarded at the age of sixteen. Damn. Now he felt like a right idiot. Flying an Eagle was nothing like flying a little Piper or Cessna, but the aptitude was obviously there. No wonder she had picked it up so quickly.
He almost jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand on his good shoulder. He rested his head back against Sandra’s middle and looked up into her face. She looked exhausted and physically drained. He wished this pregnancy would come to an end soon.
“So deep in thought. What happened to you this time?” Sandra asked with a faded smile.
“Would you believe an Eagle landed on me?” Alan tried to make light of the near disaster.
“No. You would be flatter.” Sandra’s smile quirked up on one side.
Alan laughed. “Well, how about Bill’s trainee steering the Eagle left instead of right and me ending up under a load of falling cartons?”
“That, I would believe.”
Alan took her hand very gently and pulled Sandra into his lap. “It took me awhile. I almost didn’t think to link with the Commonwealth’s aviation database. What were you doing in Canada?”
“Learning how to fly. Are you angry?”
“Whatever for?” Alan felt a little hurt. It had never crossed his mind that she would think he might be angry.
“Not telling you. Helena thought I should have,” Sandra confessed and then rested gratefully against Alan’s chest. She looked so very worn out, and a little distracted. He fervently hoped that one day she would be her old self again
“Nah. I just feel like an idiot,” he said softly, whispering into her hair. Now that was an understatement. As he sat there, running his hand through her hair and along her neck, he realized there was something about Sandra that was setting off alarm bells in his memory. The last time he had seen her with that look had been just before he had left her sitting in Eagle 15 the day Danae had been born. “Carter to Medical Center.”
“Yes, Alan, shoulder still a problem?”
Alan moved quickly to cut off that line of inquiry before Ben Vincent said more about that day’s events. “No. I’m bringing Sandra in.” He was missing something….. “Ask Fiona to stand by.”
Ben’s startled face looked back at him. “Understood.”
“Alan, I’m just tired. No contractions yet,” she protested.
“Maybe, maybe not. Just humor me, love.” Alan gently stood Sandra on her feet, scooped up a protesting Danae and blocked the door open for his wife. He wasn’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer. She could always say she had told-him-so later if he were wrong; but, something told him that he wasn’t. Alan had an inexplicable feeling that something was about to come to a close, or perhaps a beginning. And he was right.
Alan may have only known the basic first aid that Helena insisted upon, but he was observant and knew his wife. He made an excellent call concerning Sandra. Part way to Medical Center, Sandra stopped and looked at him. “Alan…” she held an arm over her barely gravid middle. “It’s starting,” she told him, tears in her eyes. He hoped the tears were ones of relief and not pain this early on. Fiona met them part way with a wheelchair. The fact that Sandra did not put up a protest in using it was very telling to him. He called Tony and Maya to meet them and take charge of Danae.
Word spread quickly that this most unusual pregnancy was coming to a conclusion.
As they reached the door to their destination, Maya and Tony were there waiting. For the first time, Danae was unwilling to go with Maya. She held onto her mother tightly and fretfully. Sandra gently soothed her ten and a half month old daughter and uncurled the little fingers from her yellow sleeve.
“It will be fine, love. Go with Auntie Maya and she will play will you.” Not cooperating, Danae reluctantly allowed Maya to pick her up and hold her. The large green eyes followed Sandra into Medical Center.
Once again, Sandra progressed very quickly, but this time Alan was there to provide support. Everyone kept reassuring him that five hours of labor was unremarkable. It looked like hell to him. As Maya was very sensitive to most Terran medicine, all involved agreed that no pain medicines should be used as they could not predict the effect on the child. In hindsight, it absolutely amazed him that Sandra had actually looked pleased when Fiona had said the labor was for real. And Sandra had known what was going to happen! Well, to be fair, no one knew exactly what to expect. Fiona stayed very close, Frederick remained in Medical Center with all his newborn resuscitation supplies at hand, and Helena was on standby in case a Caesarian section was needed.
At the six hour mark, Maya stepped in to allow Danae to see that her parents were alright. Sandra saw the opportunity to let Alan take a needed break. “Go, Alan. You and Danae need dinner. I will be fine. We have a while yet,” and she looked at Fiona who concurred. “Go,” she repeated, a small reassuring smile on her face.
Alan suspected his anxiety was beginning to frazzle her, it usually did. He knew his strength was in decisive action, not this waiting around. Torn between Sandra and a need to get out and move, he saw his daughter reach her arms out to her mother. “Come here, imp,” and he held out his good arm. Danae made eye contact with Sandra and only reluctantly allowed her father to take her. “Let’s go get you some dinner.” Alan looked at Fiona, and in terms that brooked no argument, said “You will call me…”
“Of course. Go, feed your hungry child,” Fiona made shooing motions at Alan. “It will be a while yet.”
Alan brushed his fingers along Sandra’s face, and with one last look at Fiona, briskly walked out.
“He’s a nervous one, isn’t he?” Fiona commented to Sandra after Alan stepped out, an unhappy Danae sitting on his left arm.
“Not usually,” corrected Sandra just as she then, suddenly, felt a change deep inside her. “Fiona…..”
After a quick check, Fiona grinned, “Oops, we may have sent him on his way a minute too soon.” She directed Maya to stand beside Sandra for support and prepared for delivery, calling over her shoulder for Frederick who was in the next room.
Helena looked up from her desk when she saw Frederick move swiftly into the main room. She rose to follow and entered to see Maya calling for Tony as activity reached a peak….
Alan bypassed the main cafeteria to avoid having to face all the questions. He and Danae went the extra distance to the small auxiliary cafeteria near the pilots’ main ready-room. Keeping Danae on his lap so she could reach her plate, Alan stared off into the distance, worried about Sandra. His preoccupied air and senior rank kept all but Bill Fraser from approaching him. Any comment from Bill was forestalled when Alan’s commlock chirped. “Carter.”
Tony’s happy face appeared on the small screen. “You better get back to Medical, pronto. And the door’s not locked this time.” Alan did not even dignify that last with an answer. He handed Danae to a surprised Bill and took off at a dead run.
Barely avoiding Koenig, Alan burst into Medical Center and slid to a stop, panting hard next to Helena. Looking neither right nor left, but only at Sandra, he smiled with relief when she held her hand out to him reassuringly. All that was important right now was that Sandra was well, and she was. He took her hand, reassured immediately by the grip which was stronger than it had been in weeks; her color even looked better. He leaned over to kiss her forehead. “Sorry I wasn’t here. Again,” he said with embarrassment. Sandra’s answer was a wry grin of forgiveness. She had won her gamble. Alan felt Sandra’s sigh of joyful sadness as she watched the new child in the pediatric nurse’s hands. He would have to call Bill to bring Danae soon; Sandra needed a child to hold.
As Fiona carefully checked Sandra, Alan fetched a stool from another room. He perched beside Sandra and gathered her up in his left arm. He rested his cheek against Sahn’s head and closed his eyes, their fingers lacing together as he said a prayer of thankfulness for having her safe. Without meaning to, his thoughts rambled over the past twenty-eight weeks… it had been close, but Alpha had just about fought its way back from the near fatal injuries of the moonquake. But now, most importantly, Sandra had been returned to him healthy and whole. He held her even closer.
Sandra felt very relieved. Seeing the joyful tears on Maya’s face made it all worthwhile. After a quick once-over, Frederick passed the infant to Maya. Tony put an arm about his wife and guided her over to a bench where they could sit down and meet their child. Tony caught Sandra’s eyes briefly, the look of gratitude melting her heart. She shared their happiness in their new child. Her debt to Maya for saving Danae during the moonquake was now met. Sandra snuggled into Alan’s arm a bit more and closed her eyes. She was content.
With Sandra asleep in the safety of his arms, Alan watched Maya slowly walk over carrying her son. It was only then that Alan really paid attention to the tiny newborn that had been the center of such effort. He was amazed at how small the baby was, tinier even than Danae had been, but Maya seemed to accept that as normal. But what really caught his attention, though, was that the tiny, sleeping infant had his mother’s auburn hair, and his father’s handsome face
Roberto Verdeschi had arrived.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Attention all sections Alpha:
Welcome to Roberto Sabatini Verdeschi, born yesterday at 2035 hours, weighing 1.8 kilograms. Congratulations to Chief of Security Tony Verdeschi, Science Officer Maya Verdeschi, and to Sandra Benes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
‘… on the first day of the twenty-ninth week of gestation, a full-term Roberto Sabatini Verdeschi was born to Sandra Benes for his biological parents, Tony and Maya.’
--- excerpt from a entry in the genealogy log of Dr. Helena Russell
And Alpha prospered.
MGK