Final Words

 

Final Words             post on 10/19

Month 17 Day 30

1342 Hours

Captain Jane Burke

Jane entered the transpod room and glanced around. Smitty stood at the controls. Normally, he'd be overseeing the transfer of cargo; he must have Wilson doing that. Bugalu and MacGregor were standing nearby. No surprise there. Of course they'd want to say good-bye. 2 pods waited with their doors open… and there was no sign of the redhead. “I don’t think she gets to change her mind, at this point,” Jane stated. “She’s still pregnant, isn’t she?” She asked Drake.

“Yes, and don’t even joke about it being otherwise,” he responded.

He's right. It was a heartless thing to say. “No, that wouldn’t be a joking matter,” Jane agreed. But where is she? Is she having difficulty packing?

The door opened and MacDowell entered, her duffel bag slung over her shoulder. She looked different out of uniform, wearing low shoes, pants and a long-sleeved turtleneck. She looked young, small and vulnerable, despite the duffle bag she so easily carried. She seemed surprised to see her captain there. “Captain.” She actually saluted, despite not being in uniform.

“You seem to have forgotten something, lieutenant,” Jane told her with a gentle smile. “Which of these 3 men have you decided to marry? As soon as you name him, I’ll perform the ceremony, and the other 2 can act as witnesses.”

“She decided to marry me,” Smitty stated. “We’ve made plans.”

“I don’t remember receiving a transfer request for you, Smitty.” Actually, I haven’t gotten a request for any of them. Have her plans somehow hit a stumbling block? Why didn’t anybody tell me about it? “MacDowell?” She asked, and everybody turned to look at her.

The redhead developed red flags on her cheeks, and then her face went white as tears started down her face. “None of them,” she answered curtly, and moved forward, towards the transpods.

Smitty’s mouth dropped open in shock. “Colleen!”

MacDowell whirled to face him, pain obvious on her face, her tears flowing even faster. “I thought you understood! I have to go to Gaelund! When I join you in a year, then I’ll marry you. But I can’t do it before that. If my family discovers who got me pregnant, they’ll declare war! I don’t even plan to tell them I’m engaged, for the same reason. Which reminds me, don’t try to contact me, not any of you." She glanced at MacGregor and Bugalu to include them. "If they find I’m communicating with men—I don’t even want to think about it! I’ll send messages through Abdulla and Yellow Dog. Once I’ve determined it’s safe, then we can exchange occasional messages.”

Smitty was obviously in as much pain as she was. “Then, how do I tell you where to meet me? How do we discuss the possibilities I discover? How do we… keep our love alive?”

Her duffel bag hit the floor with a muffled thud, and she was in his embrace, kissing him. After a moment, she ended the kiss, but still clung to him. “Okay. We'll have to risk it. Tell your communications crew that I will send messages to you addressed to Joe George. I know there’s nobody aboard with that name. If there is, I've never met them, which would be highly unlikely. In that case, have Abdulla send me another name to use. When you get a message from me, and it sounds like garbage, put it through the Yukosk translator. Nobody on Gaelund will know a word of Yukosk, so that should be safe for me to use. Okay? And never forget that I love you.”

“And I love you,” he returned, his voice gravelly with emotion. “Forever and ever. But you have to marry me, now, before you go to Gaelund. That way, the Fleet will send half my paycheck to you, as my spouse who's living separately. I'm afraid your pension won't be nearly enough to support you.” 

She gave him a watery smile and caressed his cheek. "Oh, that's sweet." She sniffed and went on. "But I've got some vacation time and sick leave saved up. I'm sure all that will get me through."

She's wrong. It won't be enough, and soon there'll be 2 of them. I thought they were discussing all the possibilities? But they somehow didn't discuss the finances of living separately? With the financial demands of taking care of a baby as well? What have they been talking about?

"It's my responsibility to see that you and the child have everything you need," Smitty argued. "Just a 2-minute ceremony and it'll be done."

She reached up and placed a finger over his mouth. "I can't do that, and I told you why." She gave him another long kiss.

Eventually, a buzz sounded from the control board, and the couple broke their embrace. Looking bewildered, Smitty needed a moment to identify the source of the noise. He cleared his throat. “The station’s getting impatient for you to debark,” he told the redhead. Moisture gleamed in his eyes.

He reluctantly let her move away from him. Turning, she pulled a crumpled paper from her pocket and turned to Jane. “Captain, this is my letter of resignation.”

Jane was having her own emotional reaction, which she was trying hard to hide as she took the letter. “I wish we could have found a better solution for you than to send you back to Gaelund for a year.”

“I’ll make it work,” MacDowell stated huskily, and coughed. “I’m in a lot better position now than I was when I left at 17.” She turned and gave MacGregor a hug. “I’ll miss you, Uncle MacG. You’ve taught me so much.”

“I insist you put me in contact with your obstetrician,” he answered. “So I can keep track of you and the baby.”

“I will,” she promised, and transferred her hug to Bugalu. “My best brother ever.”

“I expect to send you messages,” he told her. “What fake name do you want me to use?”

Initially startled, she answered, “Oh, Bugalu is fine. If anybody asks, I’ll just tell them you’re from Africa. They’ll never know Bugalu isn’t a woman’s name.”

“Good.” The buzzer sounded again, and he released her. “You’d better go.”

“Yes,” she acknowledged, her voice strained. She retrieved her duffel bag and placed it in one of the transpods, then stepped into the second and waved good-bye. "It's only a year, Smit. Not even a Gaelund year." Tears streamed down her face as she stared at Smitty while the pods sealed themselves and started on their journey to the station.

I’ll still be losing Smitty, but that’s put off for a year. I had my misgivings about that one when she arrived, but she settled in and became an excellent member of the crew. Takor is grateful for his yeoman, Yellow Dog, who has also fit into the crew. The only one that hasn’t is that nurse that arrived with them, and I don't understand why she's still with us. “Duck, with me,” she instructed, and glanced at the other 2 men. “You 2 take the rest of the day off.” She turned and left, trusting her Chief Medical Officer to follow.

The End

A Rational Discussion

Month 17 Day 24

2144 Hours

Smitty

In the pleasant afterglow of sex, Smitty rolled off his beloved and wrapped his arms around her. “I’m never going to get tired of having sex with you,” he told her softly and kissed her cheek.

“I feel the same,” she told him, and her mouth formed a soft smile, though her emerald eyes looked rather bleak.

She hasn't been herself since she got back from sick bay this morning. “What’s got you upset?” He asked after a moment. She's been pensive and rather uncommunicative all afternoon. What did Drake say to her at her medical exam this morning? Is he still trying to replace me?

It took several long moments before she answered. “I’m not making enough progress in strengthening my internal muscles,” She finally said. “It looks like I need to return to Gaelund until after childbirth.”

“Oh.” He thought about that for a time. “I can ask for a leave of absence and go with you.”

Her face went white, and her eyes grew round in horror. “No, you can’t!” She shook her head emphatically. “Gaelund’s gravity would be too much for you. You wouldn’t die right away, but you would die at least 20 years earlier than you would under Earth gravity. I’m not willing to have that happen so soon.”

Hmm, even MacGregor has implied something like that, a time or two. There has to be a way we could make it work. “I could stay on one of the space stations, get a temporary job.”

She snuggled closer to him, but he could feel her trembling within their embrace. “I don’t see any purpose to it. You wouldn’t be able to come down to Gaelund to see me, and I wouldn’t be able to come up to see you. Plus… I wouldn’t want my family to make life miserable for you. Which they would do, sooner or later. All my brothers and my father, all with Gaelund strength.” She shuddered and pulled him closer. “They could easily kill you.”

He held her tight for several minutes, wondering what to say to ease her worries. It almost seems like she’s looking for excuses. Has she changed her mind about us? Could this be pre-ceremony jitters? “They wouldn’t have any reason for any of that. We’d be married.”

She was still quivering with fear, still slow to answer. “I don’t know,” she answered haltingly. “Papa probably still sees me as his little girl, not to be deflowered by anyone. And my brothers just fall right in line with whatever he says. When I came back for Matt’s funeral, Pa treated me just the same as he did before I left for the Academy, and I was long past the age of adulthood, even on Gaelund. Even if he did somehow get used to the idea of me being married and having my own kids, he didn’t choose you, so he’d hold that against you. Probably forever.”

He turned that over and over in his head, looking for any way forward that wouldn’t bring on more excuses. She got mad at me once for not asking for her input before making decisions that would effect both of us. Maybe that sort of thing is rearing up to upset her again, even though we have been discussing various options between us. Lots of options, but not her returning to Gaelund. “Well, do you have any suggestions?”

Her breath gently tickled the side of his neck and down his chest. She took a long time to answer; so long, he began to fear the personal alarm would go off before she responded, and she would have to leave the question unanswered. But eventually, she gave him a gentle kiss. “I think I have to go to Gaelund to have our child. That means I’ll have to leave the Fleet, of course, but I’ll have a pension to help me get through. Doing it that way will let you stay here, at a job you love, for another year. After that, I can meet you wherever you transfer to, and then we’ll be together.”

Her pension will be blasted small, no longer than she’s been in the Fleet. But that’s okay. I’ll send money to support them. “Is that what you want to do?”

“No,” she responded right away, and gave him another kiss. “I’d rather marry you and move with you wherever you transfer, and live happily ever after. Even if I have to consciously and consistently carry my Gaelund gravity with me everywhere I go. But I'm afraid I might mess that up. So it seems easier to go to Gaelund for a finite time and then live happily ever after.”

“A year is a long time to be without you.”

“We're facing that anyway,” she pointed out. “I have to go into strict Gaelund gravity as soon as I leave this ship. We won’t even have an hour a day for sex. Or just holding. Having you in the other half of the room, or of the apartment… I don’t know if I can do that, day after day, for an entire year.”

“You think it would be easier to be far from each other for a year?”

“Probably not,” she admitted. “But I wouldn’t be facing the temptation, the option of turning off the Gaelund gravity and climbing into bed with you. I would be on Gaelund. Doing what I have to do for the health of our baby. And knowing that I've also made the right choice in regards to you; you'll be too far away to ignore the danger of Gaelund gravity on your body.”

Maybe she’s right. Once we get married, I can have the Fleet send half my paycheck to her while she’s on Gaelund. That should get her through. I’ll miss her terribly, but giving up the sex and the holding is probably best done cold, and without the temptation of chucking it aside at a moment’s notice. He let his hand slide down her back to cup her derriere. “I shall miss you every minute that you are away from me.” If she needs Gaelund gravity, then she shall have Gaelund gravity, whatever I have to do.

“And I will yearn for you with every particle of my being,” she murmured sweetly, and moved her head to glance at the personal alarm. “Speaking of which, are you ready for more sex?”

“Absolutely.” And he kissed her passionately.

Still Not Good

Month 17 Day 24

11:22 Hours

Dr Drake MacGregor

Mac’s forehead puckered in confusion and disappointment as she sat facing Drake across his office desk. And her eyes are gleaming with unshed tears. No, she's not taking this well at all. “No improvement at all?” she asked.

“I didn’t say I see no improvement,” Drake corrected, wondering if she would start crying. Some days it doesn't take much to start the tears flowing. “I see a very slight improvement, but not as much as I had hoped to see by now. But there's still time. Have you made any progress with your boot gravity units?”

One tear started down her cheek, and she sniffed as she wiped it away. Drake handed her a paper towel. “I don't know. Well... I just started a new configuration yesterday,” Mac stated. Only one unit, on my left boot, with an enlarged area of engagement. My right foot doesn’t stay in Gaelund gravity all the time, but my body does, and I'm learning to compensate for what feels like being lop-sided. So between all these efforts, I am spending at least 90% of my time in Gaelund gravity. I had hoped that would be enough.”

“Possibly it is,” Drake drawled. “Or will be. You just started this latest batch of gravity enhancement. It's too early to tell how much it will help, but it will help, so don't get discouraged. What would be even better would be for you to be in Gaelund gravity all the time, but that’s not going to be possible on a ship.”

Her eyes grew round, and her face went pale. “The only way to be in Gaelund gravity all the time is to be on Gaelund.”

“Well, that would be one way,” Drake told her. “You and Smitty are both engineers, and there must be other possibilities. Here's an idea, and I'm not an engineer, but once you get settled into an apartment, you could install Gaelund gravity in that apartment.”

“And… what? I'd never leave the apartment?”

“No doubt you’d have to, from time to time. For medical appointments, if nothing else. But you already have portable units to take with you. So you could, conceivably, get your non-Gaelund-gravity time down to 1 or 2%. Which I'm sure would do the trick.”

She stared at the floor, thinking about what he had said. “What happens if my muscles don’t regain their strength? I never manage to give birth? My baby dies inside me because I can’t give birth?”

“Nothing so drastic,” he assured her. “They can always deliver by Cesarean. It’s just better for both mother and child if the childbirth can be done the normal way. That’s why I’m trying to get you ready for that.”

“I appreciate that,” she said slowly, her voice husky with emotion. “I just worry about my body being so stubborn about getting into shape. But I can’t subject Smit to constant Gaelund gravity in his own home. It wouldn’t be good for him. He’d die at a very early age.”

From what I've read of the early pioneers on heavy planets... “He probably would,” Drake agreed slowly. Married but living separately? Hardly ideal, but—

“I know he would,” she stated. “Gaelund textbooks explain it all to our school children. The original colonists, those who landed on Gaelund, all died within 20 years of landing. Even the first generation of those born on Gaelund all died before they reached 60. It wasn’t until the 2nd and 3rd generation of native-born Gaelunders that the life expectancy started to lengthen. So I can’t ask Smit to live in Gaelund gravity. I won't do it to him.”

“Life with him can still be done,” Drake offered. “Maybe it might take a larger apartment. Then you split the apartment in half, with Earth gravity in one half, for Smitty, and Gaelund gravity in the other half, for you and the baby.”

“So close, and yet so far away.” Her tears sounded very close to the surface just now. "It would be torture."

“Talk to Smitty about it,” he suggested. “I'm not an engineer. Maybe the 2 of you can think of something better. Unless you want to go home to Gaelund.” I can't imagine so, but she is the one who brought it up. Is she considering it?

White-faced, she sat absolutely still for a long moment. “I never want to go back. I’ve gotten used to the idea that I would never go back to Gaelund. Especially not like this.”

“Then you’ll need to find a way to make the split apartment work. Or some other arrangement. On the plus side, once you get those muscles up to strength for this pregnancy, you could dip back into Earth normal gravity from time to time. As long as you spend, oh, I’d guess about 50 or 60% of your time in Gaelund gravity, there shouldn’t be any difficulties with any future pregnancies.”

She looked up in abject surprise. “Future pregnancies? You are getting too far ahead of me, MacG. I can only think about getting through this one.”

Just a bit of tunnel vision? I suppose that's understandable. “Of course,” he answered. “And you’re going to do fine. I’m just giving you all the possibilities so you can make educated decisions. Whatever you and Smitty decide to do, I know you’ll make the right decision and make it work.” He watched as she once again stared, frowning, at the floor. He leaned forward to make sure he had her attention. “You are making progress, Mac, and adding the walking and standing in Gaelund gravity will no doubt help propel you forward even faster. There’s nothing for you to worry about at this time.”

“Perhaps,” she said quietly, sighed and stood up, retrieved her under-chair grav unit. “If you're done with me, I'll return to work.”

“Talk to Smitty,” he suggested again. “If anyone can figure out split gravity on an apartment, it’s him.”

“Yes. You’re right,” she murmured, and turned to leave his office.

She still seems upset. Well, Smitty will think about it for a couple minutes, and then explain how simple it will be to have dual gravity in their apartment, wherever they wind up. I’m sure she’ll be back to her usual self by supper.