by Rinelle Grey
This wasn’t the sort of article he was looking for. He and Amelie weren’t even the same species, a mating relationship between them wouldn’t even be possible.
Would it?
He stared at the picture. He couldn’t deny that the image it presented was appealing. He’d only touched Amelie’s hair and cheek, but they were so soft and silky, he was definitely drawn to repeat the experience.
Only problem was, that was when she had pulled back.
He returned to the search screen and typed in, “How to know if someone likes you.” Sure enough, the results returned that touching, especially on the face, was a sign that someone liked you.
He’d been giving Amelie mixed signals, indicating he was interested in mating with her. No wonder she had pulled back.
Why would anyone ever want to mate with him?
Not that it was even possible. He wasn’t fully functional. Those bits weren’t necessary for fighting, in fact, they were a distraction from the cause. The Gokak certainly didn’t want their experiments reproducing, so they’d been eliminated in the metamorphosis.
And yet, in the back of his mind, he must have been thinking of it. How else could he describe his infatuation with Amelie, and how desperately he wanted her to like him. He’d just been fooling himself.
She could never return that feeling.
He and Amelie could never have that kind of relationship, even if both of them had wanted it. A deep sadness hit him like a blow. Amelie was a kind and caring woman. In another lifetime, he might indeed be interested in pursuing a relationship with her.
But in the here and now, it wouldn’t be fair to start something with Amelie, even if it had been possible. He wasn’t staying here with the humans any longer than he had to. Better to keep his distance. Even just the friendship they shared would cause her pain when he left.
He knew that, because it was going to hurt him to leave.
Despite that, he wasn’t ready to back away from a friendship. Having someone he could talk to and trust was so much more than he had imagined only a short while ago.
And he’d nearly jeopardised that by giving Amelie the wrong impression.
He needed to explain now, and hopefully he could still salvage their friendship. Kugah switched off the computer and stood up. He hesitated for a minute. He didn’t even know which of the many cabins in the ship was Amelie’s. Not that she would be in her quarters. She’d be in med bay where she always was.
As he neared med bay though, Kugah began to feel a little self-conscious. He didn’t even know how to broach the subject with Amelie, and as soon as he walked into the room, she was going to ask him what he wanted. How was he going to answer that?
So instead of going straight in, Kugah slipped slowly past the door, peeking in on the way, hoping to at least catch a glimpse of Amelie. Once he saw her, maybe it would be easier.
The woman who had given birth earlier lay sleeping, twitching slightly every now and then. Amelie wasn’t standing near her.
On the other side of the room was the crib the baby was in. It was empty. Kugah scanned the room nearby, and sure enough, Amelie stood next to the crib, holding the infant human.
She didn’t know anyone was watching her, so Kugah could take a moment to soak in the sight of her bending over the tiny human, her hair falling around her face. A miniature fist waved up at her, and the eyes struggled to focus on her face.
The smile on her face was even more beautiful than the smiles she gave him, melting his heart.
Disappointment hit him square in the gut.
It didn’t matter how much he tried to convince himself he could be happy with just a friendship, apparently he still wanted more, because the only thing he could think as he watched her with the child was that he had no chance.
He could never give her a family. Even if he was functional, there was no chance their species were even remotely compatible. The biologist in him knew that without a doubt.
And it was obvious from the expression on her face that a baby was what she wanted. What she needed.
Why had he wasted all that time reading articles that told him nothing, when he could have found out by just observing her? As a scientist, he should have known that was the best way.
Trouble was, now that he’d found it out, he knew he could never have it. He could never make her truly happy.
His whole trip down here seemed pointless now. He should have stayed in his room, where he could continue to hope that he could offer her something of value in her life.
Kugah took a few steps back, intending to slip away and forget about talking to Amelie, but at that moment, she turned around.
“Oh, it’s you, Kugah. Come on in. Did you want to talk to me?”
She looked almost guilty, as though she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t. Kugah wasn’t sure why. Was she still bothered by the scene in his room the other night?
Kugah stared at her. He should tell her. It would relieve her of any further concerns she had about him. “KaGeeGee, Kugah gont talk…”
Amelie’s forehead wrinkled, and she interrupted, “I don’t know what you’re saying, Kugah.” Holding the baby in one hand, she picked up the tablet off her table, and held it out to him. “Type it.”
He hated typing. It was so distant and impersonal, and it took so damn long he’d almost forgotten what he was trying to say by the time he’d found the first letter. Still it was better than not being able to communicate.
He fumbled for the tablet, and reached down to start typing, when the doors slid open.
“Hi, Amelie.” Marlee’s voice filled the room. “Do you have a minute?”
Kugah dropped the tablet. He’d missed his moment. Probably a good thing. Other than that brief moment, Amelie seemed fine today, even though they had been alone in med bay. If he just pretended none of it had ever happened, maybe the awkwardness would pass.
“Of course,” Amelie said to Marlee with a smile. “What’s up?”
“It’s not a big deal, and I don’t want to bother you if you’re busy…” she looked down at the baby in Amelie’s arms, smiled, then looked back. “I can come back later.
Amelie switched into doctor mode, confident and sure. “I’m not that busy. Do you mind waiting outside for a minute, Kugah?” She looked over at him.
Kugah nodded, and took a step back, but Marlee waved a hand. “That’s okay, it’s nothing personal. Kugah can stay. It’s just, well, I’ve been having trouble focusing in the last couple of days, and I was wondering if there was anything you could do to help?”
“What do you mean, trouble focusing?” Amelie asked.
“It’s mostly when I’m sewing or knitting things for the baby. I find it hard to see what I’m doing sometimes, unless I hold it further away. And then I struggle to change between something close, like sewing, and looking over to check on Isala.”
Amelie nodded. She laid the baby down in the crib, reached for a torch, and walked over to Marlee. “Let’s take a look,” she said. “Try to just look at me normally.”
Marlee nodded, and stood still as Amelie shone the torch into both eyes. The doctor frowned. “I can’t see anything obviously wrong. If you have a few minutes, I can do a more thorough examination.”
Marlee hesitated. “I can see that you’re busy. It’s not really urgent. Just annoying.”
Kugah knew Amelie was busy. And stressed. But he hid a smile as she perked up immediately. “It will only take a few minutes. Come on.”
She ushered Marlee over to a seat and pulled out some pieces of equipment that Kugah couldn’t even guess the uses of. Amelie held some instruments in front of Marlee’s eyes and looked through them, frowning. Then she stepped back and typed something into the computer and stared at it for a long time.
She was interrupted by the baby crying, the little face screwed up in frustration, her fists waving in the air. Amelie glanced over, and then sighed and picked up the infant, putting her over her shoulder and patting her back. The cries
didn’t stop, so Amelie raised her voice and asked, “You said this only started in the last couple of days?”
Marlee nodded. “I only noticed it yesterday,” she raised her voice as well, although Kugah was still unsure Amelie would be able to hear. The baby seemed to be increasing her volume. Marlee opened her mouth to say more, then glanced over at Junie, who didn’t move. “Is she okay?” she asked instead.
Amelie nodded. “I’ve had to sedate her. She’s suffering from some sort of dementia.”
“So she can’t look after her baby,” Marlee guessed. There was pity in her voice. “No wonder the poor babe is crying, she misses her mum.”
Amelie nodded, her face taut. “I don’t have as much time to spend with her as a new mum would,” she excused. “I’m trying to find out what’s wrong with her mother.”
“Of course,” Marlee said immediately. “I’m sure you’re doing a wonderful job. Anyway, my eyesight really isn’t that bad, I’m sorry I bothered you when you’re so busy, it’s just…” She hesitated, then blurted out, “I’m not going blind am I?”
Amelie shook her head immediately. “Of course not.”
Marlee breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. I know Karla commented a couple of times that if she’d had the right equipment, she could have saved some of the old people’s eyesight. I don’t think I could bear it if I went blind.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Amelie said firmly.
Marlee couldn’t see her face from where she was, but Kugah could. The frown of worry indicated that something was wrong, even if she wasn’t telling Marlee.
What she said to Marlee was, “I can give you some eyeglasses to help correct the issue. If we were still on Urslat, you could have the problem surgically corrected, but I wouldn’t recommend that here.”
“Eyeglasses will be fine,” Marlee said hurriedly. “How long will that take?”
“I’ve entered the prescription into the computer, they should be ready in a couple of hours. I’ll send you a message.”
“A couple of hours?” Marlee looked surprised. “Oh there’s no need to worry about it now, I can see you’ve got your hands full.” She smiled at the baby in Amelie’s arms, who gave a loud burp, and then abruptly stopped crying. “I can wait.”
“That’s okay,” Amelie said immediately. “It’s no trouble.”
Marlee smiled. “Amelie, I know it’s different, since you’re only looking after this baby for a short while, but you’re still going to have to realise you can’t do everything. Baby comes first. She can’t look after herself, and is relying on you to do everything for her.”
“I don’t have a choice not to do my job,” Amelie snapped. “I’m a doctor, and my patients are relying on me. They don’t have anyone else to help them either.”
Marlee looked at Amelie, her eyes full of sympathy. “If you were still on Urslat, you wouldn’t be trying to do this on your own. The baby would be in a nursery, while you cared for her mother.”
“Well, we’re not on Urslat,” Amelie said shortly. “And there’s no nursery.”
Marlee gave a frown. “No, there’s not,” she said slowly. Then her eyes lit up. “I could look after the baby for you.”
Amelie raised an eyebrow. “You? You already have enough on your hands with your own baby,” she pointed out. “Now who’s trying to do everything?”
“Oh, I’m not doing it all on my own.” Marlee waved a hand airily. “I have Tyris to help me. Besides, I’m already washing nappies and feeding babies all the time, two can’t be that much harder than one.”
Kugah wasn’t too sure about that, but it seemed to be persuading Amelie. She looked down at the baby in her arms for a moment, and a brief flash of disappointment flashed across her face. Then it was gone.
“Well, if you’re sure…” she said.
Marlee didn’t seem to hear anything wrong in Amelie’s voice. “Of course I’m sure.” She hitched her own baby up a little in the sling of material she carried it in, and came to coo over the infant. “What’s her name?” she asked.
“She doesn’t have one. Junie hasn’t been right since she was born, and I don’t know if she had picked anything out,” Amelie explained.
Marlee frowned. “We can’t just keep calling her ‘the baby’. We need something a little more individual, even if it is temporary.”
Amelie frowned. “You can’t do that,” she objected. “The baby is Junie’s. She has the right to name it.”
“Junie is your concern,” Marlee said softly. “I can’t give this little one the love she deserves while calling her ‘the baby’.”
Amelie stared at her, turmoil crossing her face.
Kugah could see her point. The scientists had erased his name from all records and replaced it with a number. Easier for them to be dispassionate and do what they had done, if he wasn’t an individual. It was a common tactic to dehumanise someone.
Luckily they couldn’t erase it from his memory.
And perhaps that was the unconscious reason Amelie was resisting giving this baby a name. It was clear she was drawn to the infant, and equally clear she didn’t want to be. Giving the baby a name would make her a person in Amelie’s mind. One she would lose if she did her job and healed her mother.
Kugah felt torn between knowing Marlee was right, and knowing that doing the right thing risked hurting Amelie. He didn’t want her to hurt. He wanted to protect her, but he couldn’t.
So he stayed quiet and watched while the two women stared at each other, silently warring over whether to name the baby or not.
Marlee eventually won. Amelie turned away to her computer, saying distantly, “Of course, Marlee, you must do what you think is right.”
Kugah was relieved, even as he empathised with her sadness. He’d known Amelie would do the right thing, no matter how hard it was.
Marlee looked at Amelie, understanding in her eyes. She didn’t know what was going on, but she could see that this was hard for her. “Do you have any suggestions?” she asked.
For a moment, Kugah thought Amelie was going to snap at her. But then she turned her chair around slowly and said, “What about Camali?”
She didn’t add any reasoning to her suggestion, but the desperately hopeful look in her eyes indicated there was one.
Marlee didn’t ask, just nodded. “Camali it is then.” She bent and picked up the baby, and cradled her in her arms. “Is there anything else I can help you with?” she asked Amelie.
Amelie took one more look at the baby in Marlee’s arms, and turned away. “No, that’s all. I’m afraid that no one else is going to be able to help me make this diagnosis.”
Her voice was strained. That was stressing her too.
Poor Amelie.
If only there was something he could do to help, but none of his biological knowledge pertained to humans. Their physiology was completely different to anything he’d studied before.
Marlee left the room, all her problems solved.
Amelie though, was still frowning.
“KaGeeGee?” Kugah asked. He wanted to ask more to the question, but his speech wasn’t up to it.
Amelie looked over at him. “Oh, you’re still here, Kugah. What did you want again?”
He’d already decided not to voice his original comments, but her question did give him an opening. “Is something wrong?” he typed on the tablet.
Amelie frowned. He could see the assessment happening in her eyes as she looked at him. Deciding whether to let him in on whatever was bothering her. Deciding whether to trust him or not.
He almost held his breath. Did she really consider him a friend? Did she trust him enough to share her worries with him?
She heaved a sigh. “Nothing really, it’s just… strange.”
“What’s strange?” Kugah typed.
Amelie frowned. “Marlee seems to be suffering from presbyopia, a loss of elasticity in her lens, but that’s usually not an issue for someone Marlee’s age.”
Kugah was
glad she had chosen to share the information with him, but he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. “Is there a problem with that?” he typed eventually.
“Not by itself, no. It’s easily correctable with eyeglasses, and should have no long term effects on Marlee’s life,” Amelie admitted. “But between that, Junie’s dementia, and Folly’s early menopause, I’m beginning to doubt that all these issues occurring at the same time are just random chance. I’m worried that something is seriously wrong.”
Kugah frowned. “Why can’t they be random? Is there something that ties them together?” He wanted to understand, to be able to help her. He just hoped his question didn’t sound stupid.
So much for impressing her by being intelligent.
“They’re all diseases usually associated with ages far greater than the patients presenting with them,” Amelie explained.
Kugah exhaled in relief. She didn’t seem to think his question was stupid. In fact, she seemed to welcome the chance to talk about it more. Kugah wasn’t surprised by that. He’d often found that discussing complications helped him think of the solution, even if the other person just nodded and agreed.
“Folly’s only twenty-five, I wouldn’t expect to see even premature menopause until after she was thirty, normal menopause would be closer to fifty. Junie is a little older, she’s in her forties, dementia at that age is unusual, but not unheard of. It came on very fast though. Marlee’s eyesight is the real kicker though. She shouldn’t be suffering from presbyopia for another twenty years. It all makes no sense.”
“So everyone is ageing faster than they should be?” he asked.
Amelie’s mouth dropped open. An expression of horror crossed her face. “I hope it’s not everyone,” she said, her voice high and worried. She took a deep breath and said, more to herself than him, “Three cases doesn’t mean everyone is going to be affected, does it? If it does what could be causing it?”
The question wasn’t exactly directed at him. Amelie was musing, talking out loud, trying to figure it out in her own mind, but he wanted to contribute something, to help her.
Kugah frowned. What could be making everyone age faster than expected? “Have you ever seen anything like this before?” he asked. “Do humans have any diseases that might cause premature ageing?”