by Rinelle Grey
The desperate look in Kerit’s sunken eyes as he watched her face intently made Amelie’s heart ache. She couldn’t bear to see his pain. She wanted to do anything she could to stop it.
But she couldn’t. She had nothing to offer him. No assurances, no promises, not even much hope. But she couldn’t stay silent.
“If it’s going to work, it’s going to take a while,” she said softly.
Kerit nodded, but his eyes didn’t leave Folly’s face.
Amelie let him be. She checked Folly’s vitals, and adjusted some medication. For now, she was stable. If this worked, maybe she stood a chance.
Maybe.
“You’re next,” Amelie said to Kerit.
Kerit made a minor protest about others needing it more, but it petered out under Amelie’s frown. “Okay, Doc,” he said meekly, and held out his arm.
After treating Kerit, Amelie slowly went around everyone, giving them injections. Most of them were too tired to protest. Most smiled weakly and whispered thanks when she told them she had a treatment.
Until Talah.
Amelie was so tired she wasn’t even thinking as she arrived at his wife’s bed and said mechanically, “I have a possible treatment for the ageing. I need to give both of you injections.”
She’d repeated the explanation so many times now that she didn’t expect any resistance. She moved the syringe towards the woman’s arm, only stopping when Talah’s voice said roughly, “What’s in that?”
Amelie’s eyes focused on him and her heart sank. He was going to make an issue of this, especially if he found out where the treatment had come from. “It’s a chemical that should help remove the radiation from the wormhole from your body. It won’t heal everything, but it will stop any further deterioration.”
Talah’s expression didn’t lighten. “Where did it come from?” His tone was challenging, almost accusatory.
He had to know already. It wasn’t like she’d made any secret of it.
Amelie looked him straight in the eye, and said flatly, “Kugah’s blood.”
That was exactly what he was looking for. His nose flared and his lips twisted. “You want to inject my wife, the mother of our unborn baby, with that alien’s blood? What do you think I am, stupid?”
“No,” Amelie said quietly. “I think you’re dying, just like everyone else on this ship. I’m trying to stop that.”
“Are you?” Talah demanded. “I don’t see anyone here having a problem until that alien came on board. Then conveniently, the two of you are the only ones not affected by this radiation. A handy coincidence, isn’t it?”
Amelie had expected him to object, to be stupid and violent even.
She hadn’t expected him to accuse her. Anger rose up in her so quickly it threatened to choke her. This low life thought she had somehow engineered this? Worse, he was blaming Kugah. Gentle, caring Kugah, who’d risked his own life to bring them this treatment.
“And just what do you think I get out of it?” she demanded. Did he really think she had some sort of desire to be the only one left alive on this ship? Nothing was further from the truth. Amelie suppressed a shudder. She certainly didn’t want to be the only one left alive here.
“I think you’re planning on selling this ship, maybe to the aliens. I’m sure they’d love to get their hands on our tech so they can kill all of us.”
His attitude made Amelie feel sick, but it was his problem, not hers. “Do you want the treatment or not?” she said flatly.
“Of course I don’t.”
Amelie shrugged, and turned to his wife. “How about you?”
The woman hesitated, her eyes going from Amelie to Kugah, back near her workstation. Amelie could see the fear and panic in her eyes. The woman bit her lip, and shook her head.
Amelie knew she should just let it go. It wasn’t her problem, and it was going to cause a scene. But she couldn’t. “I believe this treatment is our only chance at beating this ageing,” she said quietly.
Talah bristled at that. “Stop lying to us. Do you think we don’t realise?” He stood up, and Amelie suspected he was considering taking a swing at her. She wondered if jabbing him with the needle would stop him, or just make him more violent.
Before she could make up her mind, Tyris interrupted. “What’s going on here?” he demanded.
His voice was still strong, despite the grey peppering the stubble on his chin.
He knew what the issue was, he could see it, but demanding Talah explain gave the other man a chance to change his mind on his story.
Predictably though, he didn’t. “I think Dr Benton should be removed from her position,” he demanded strongly. “The very idea of using a treatment made from that alien’s blood is preposterous. At the very least, it’s gross incompetence, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she and the alien are plotting to overthrow the ship while we’re all dying.”
Tyris stared at him for a moment, and then he laughed. “You’ve got to be kidding me, right?”
His attitude only made Talah more angry. “Don’t tell me you’re part of it too,” he demanded.
Tyris’s face grew serious. “There is no plot here, Talah. Amelie is trying her hardest to save the life of everyone here on this ship. The choice over whether to accept her treatment or not is yours to make, of course, but you make the choice for you only, not your wife.”
“Elma agrees with me,” Talah said firmly. “Don’t you Elma?”
His wife’s face was twisted in an expression of pain. There was no telling if it was due to concern over the treatment, or pain from an ageing related ailment. Either way, there was nothing Amelie could do if she refused treatment, which she did with a minute shake of her head.
Amelie’s heart sank. She hoped the decision was made for herself, not out of fear of her husband. She’d never seen Talah raise a hand to the woman, for all his brash nature, but she couldn’t be sure. She resolved to talk to the woman alone when she could contrive an excuse.
Just as soon as she could find time.
Tyris’s face registered disappointment too, but he tightened his lips and nodded. “That’s your choice. Continue on to the next person, Amelie.”
But the damage had already been done. Enough people had heard Talah’s protest, and his accusations, that some began refusing treatment. Not a large number, in the grand scheme of things maybe two in ten, but every one caused Amelie’s heart to break a little more.
How could she save them if they wouldn’t let her?
If it even worked.
Chapter 23
It chafed, that Kugah couldn’t get up and help Amelie give the injections. He felt even worse when that troublemaker started having a go at her. But despite his earlier assertion that he’d be fine, he did still feel a little shaky after passing out from the blood loss. He suspected his assistance would cause more concern than help. So he forced himself to stay seated and watch Tyris defend her. The human did an admirable job, at least.
Afterwards though, as Amelie continued with her work, he couldn’t stop himself watching her intently for any sign of exhaustion.
What a silly thought. Of course she was exhausted. He’d lost track of how many days she’d been working with very little sleep. Exhaustion was par for the course.
Despite how tired she must be feeling, she stopped by Karla after she was done, and picked up the baby again. The smile on her face as she slipped the infant into the sling, adjusting it expertly over her shoulder, smoothed the exhausted wrinkles from around her mouth.
The ageing nurse seemed happy to hand the baby over. She was tired too.
Everyone was.
If Amelie didn’t take a break soon, she wouldn’t be able to help anyone. He felt a lot better when she walked over to him and flopped down on the stretcher next to him. “That’s everyone done,” she said. “The ones who didn’t object anyway.” The strain in her voice was audible. “Imyne is no different. Maybe it’s not going to work anyway.”
She sounded
defeated and hopeless. Kugah wished there was something he could say to fix it.
“You’ve done the best you can,” he typed on the tablet.
Amelie frowned. “That’s not good enough.”
Kugah knew that feeling, and the regrets that went with it. “I know,” he typed. “But it’s all you can do.”
Amelie put a hand on his arm, her expression earnest. “You’ve done so much already, Kugah. Thank you.” Then she heaved a deep sigh. “I just hope it works.”
She didn’t say anything for a while, just stroked the sleeping baby in the sling.
The whole room was quiet. Everyone was sleeping. It must be late. Night time for the humans. ‘KaGeeGee geep,” Kugah said softly.
“I don’t think I can sleep,” Amelie replied, her voice low. “I know I need to, but I just can’t stop my brain for long enough to fall asleep.”
He couldn’t blame her. He didn’t think he could either.
“I just keep going over and over all of it,” Amelie continued. “Everything I’ve tried, everything else I could try, like going back to the Colonies and asking for help.”
The soft suggestion made Kugah freeze. Like all the occupants of the ship, he had strong reasons not to want to go anywhere near the Colonies. But if it could save everyone…
“Maybe you should,” he typed. “Maybe it’s better than everyone dying.”
Amelie shook her head immediately. “Not many here would agree to that,” she said with certainty. “These people came with Tyris because the Colonies were going to kill their babies. That hasn’t changed. Some might consider it, if we run out of options, but it doesn’t matter. The only way to get there would be to use the AWP again, and that’s only going to make everything worse.”
Despite how much the idea horrified him, Kugah found himself typing, “Could using it make things that much worse? Folly has been through it three times, and only a bit sicker than the other’s. If it would save everyone, then maybe you should consider it.”
“It’s not an option,” Amelie said firmly. “The AWP didn’t even work properly for the Resolution, so it’s not like we could guarantee getting there anyway. Besides, the only hope of the Colonies agreeing to help us would be if we gave you up, and I’m not willing to do that.”
The certainty with which she spoke made Kugah feel warm inside. A feeling that didn’t last. “Talah would be. And I’m sure others would too,” he typed.
“Well, I’m not one of them.” Amelie turned to frown at him. “And neither is Tyris, or Kerit, or so many other people.” Her voice softened. “There are a lot of us who are very grateful you are here Kugah. Grateful for all the help you’ve given us. I hope you won’t let a few negative people make you forget that.” She put a hand on his arm, emphasising her point. “We’ll find another way. A way that doesn’t mean giving anyone up.”
Emotion welled up in him at Amelie’s soft words. They were spoken earnestly, and with true feeling.
So why did he doubt them? Why did he find it so hard to believe that what she spoke was the truth?
Why did he find it hard to accept that anyone could want to be his friend?
Because he was damaged. Broken and destroyed by the metamorphosis he had undergone. How could anyone love a weapon? Oh, they might appreciate it for its ability to protect them, but they couldn’t love it.
No one could.
Amelie appreciated him. She was grateful that he had helped stop the APW when it had malfunctioned. She was happy that his armour had protected her from the radiation and allowed her to continue her job when those around her had fallen ill. She appreciated his blood, which had helped her create a treatment.
None of that meant she cared about him, as a person. Just what he could do.
Before the feeling subsided, Kugah grabbed the tablet and typed, “You’ve found my presence useful, nothing more.”
Amelie turned to face him, a frown on her face. Kugah braced himself for her to admit the truth.
“That’s not the case, Kugah,” she said gently. “It’s true, you have helped all of us so much, and I am grateful for that, but…” her voice trailed off, and she stared at his face for a moment, as though searching for something.
Her eyes dropped down to the baby, and she patted the infant’s back absently.
Kugah almost held his breath, hardly daring to hope that there might be something else there.
Why was he letting himself be deluded by the possibility that she might care for him? She couldn’t possibly. He had nothing to offer her besides the practical considerations he had already mentioned. He wasn’t even human. He was so drastically different, with his hard, angular armour, and the spurs in his wrists, that even if she did, by some miracle, care about him, there was no way for them to express it anyway. Not in any of the ways he had seen humans expressing affection.
When Amelie’s eyes lifted back to his face, he could see the same realisation in them. “I don’t believe all that stuff, about you being a weapon, or dangerous. I can see that underneath all that armour, you’re a decent, caring person.”
They weren’t the words he wanted to hear, even if they were kind. Kugah jerked his head in a nod, glad of the expressionless face his armour presented to the world.
Amelie wasn’t finished. “You’re a darn sight more accepting and caring that a lot of others on this ship.” Her voice was bitter, and Kugah didn’t need the glance over at Talah to know what she was talking about. She turned back to him, and put a hand on his arm. “I couldn’t ask for a better person to help me through all this.”
On the surface, her words could be referring to his practical help, but somehow, Kugah didn’t think so.
“You might care if we’re the only two who survive,” he typed. At least the written words couldn’t display any emotion, because he suspected if he said them with his voice, they would sound bitter.
He didn’t want to sound bitter. He was glad that Amelie liked him. Glad that she didn’t pull away or sneer. He was happy that she thought he was useful.
It wasn’t her fault that he wanted more.
No matter how much he kept trying to convince himself not to, he kept hoping.
Exactly what he even meant by that he wasn’t sure. Just that he was pretty sure that the ache inside him, built up by the years of rejection and self-loathing, could only be fixed by her.
Amelie was silent for such a long time, that Kugah had plenty of time to scold himself for daring to hope again. Why did he keep doing that, when he knew he was doomed to disappointment?
When she looked up at him, her eyes were uncertain. “That’s not true, Kugah.” She looked as surprised at her words as he was. “I… I mean, I hope no one else dies. Everyone here deserves to live. Even Talah. But for my own comfort and… happiness. If only one person survives, and it’s you… well…” she blushed, but didn’t look away, “…I wouldn’t be upset about that.”
Kugah’s heart lifted so high he thought it was going to burst through his chest, armour and all. He wasn’t sure that Amelie meant anything more than friendship, but even so, her admission was exhilarating.
He didn’t want to have to type his reply, the laboriously words couldn’t possibly convey what he wanted to say. But it was the best he had. Before he picked up the tablet though, he cupped Amelie’s cheek gently, and said, “Kugah glad KaGeeGee…” He gave a small growl of frustration at the vocal cords that were inadequate for the sounds he needed.
Amelie smiled and waited patiently as he picked up the tablet and typed furiously. “I’m glad you feel that way. It means a lot to me.”
The words were inadequate to describe what he was feeling. They were polite, kind, maybe even sweet. But without any tone or emotion, they couldn’t possibly show that her comment meant the world to him.
He wasn’t sure that it would be wise to type words that did, even if he could think of them.
For one thing, he didn’t understand all the nuances of the human’s language yet, esp
ecially not when it came to intimate relationships.
More importantly though, he wasn’t sure if they were even on the same page. No matter how much she liked him as a friend, the idea of any sort of romantic relationship between them was crazy, even if she did feel the same way. She would have to see that.
She did. He could see it in her eyes. Uncertainty warred with curiosity and interest.
Despite the fact that nothing had become any easier, somehow, Kugah’s heart felt a lot lighter.
*****
Amelie stared into Kugah’s eyes, her heart racing. Did he mean what she thought he meant?
Did she?
Despite the fact that she’d always thought his black eyes were expressionless, she could suddenly sense a whole lot of feelings from him. Uncertainty, longing, a desperate wish to fit in and belong. A desire for the connection, even intimate connection, with another sentient being. Even if they were of a completely different, and physically incompatible, race.
Maybe she was just projecting her own feelings onto him.
Did it matter that they weren’t physically compatible? Would the beautiful bond she felt every time she shared something with him be enough to sustain a relationship?
She’d never felt this kind of connection to anyone before. None of her failed relationships had stirred the kind of feelings in her that Kugah did.
She wanted to hold him close and stroke his armour until all his fears and self-hatred melted away.
She wanted him to do the same for her.
Could they mend each other? Two broken individuals, each hating themselves in their own way, blaming themselves for all the mistakes they had made.
She understood him, in a way she’d never even been able to understand herself. Maybe because she could view his life and his mistakes with a kindness she didn’t seem to be able to extend to herself.