Promises to Keep

by Promises To Keep (lit) (NCP)

  PROMISES TO KEEP

  by

  Janet Miller

  © copyright June 2004, Janet Miller

  Cover art by Eliza Black, © copyright June 2004

  New Concepts Publishing

  5202 Humphreys Rd.

  Lake Park, GA 31636

  www.newconceptspublishing.com

  Prologue

  Somewhere in space

  Symon turned and stared at the tall, dark-haired man, dressed in his usual black uniform. "We need women, Garran. If we don’t get them from Earth, where do you expect them to come from? The Outer Colonies have their own troubles, they can’t provide for us."

  General Garran Doranth stared at his second-in-command. He had no answer, as Symon had already known. Instead of dealing with the question, he shifted in the chair and scowled. "I don’t like bringing Earthers to Gaia. I still believe it’s a mistake."

  On the other side of the conference table, Bethan, Symon’s wife, stirred and exchanged glances with her husband. From the head of the table, Garran watched the silent nods and raised eyebrows as the pair silently communicated and a fleeting amusement passed through him at how well they understood each other. She squared her shoulders and returned her gaze to meet his eyes. Garran stiffened under his sister-in-law’s stare.

  It was apparently her turn to persuade him.

  "I understand how you feel, Garran. We both do, but what choice do we have?"

  Briefly, he let her gentle voice soothe him. It was so like Metta’s--but it wasn’t and he’d never hear his wife’s sweet voice again. Old pain eliminated the brief comfort he’d taken.

  Oblivious, Bethan continued. "The situation is simple: we have too many men and not enough women. No matter how you dislike it, this is the only solution available. Have you been in the crew quarters recently? They grow impatient, weary of waiting. There has been talk…."

  The word caught Garran’s attention. "Talk?"

  Symon took up the battle. "Yes, talk. Talk of going out on their own to find women. And you know what a disaster that could be. You may not like it, but this is the only choice we have."

  No, he didn’t like it. "It might not even work. They might not be suitable."

  "It’s worked in the past. Even you can’t deny that. And you can’t argue that the few Earth women we have acquired haven’t made excellent wives."

  Garran nodded grudgingly. He’d been angry when the ship’s doctor had attached, but the woman had turned into a good addition to his crew, in spite of his misgivings. But to bring in others.… "They will change us. We need so many, it will change who we are."

  Bethan laughed. "And who’s to say it wouldn’t be good for us to suffer a little change? We’ve become too isolated. That was part of the problem in the first place." At his ill-humored grunt, she reached over and patted his arm. "Who knows, Garran, perhaps you could find someone…."

  Fury sprang within him without warning. Clenching his fists he turned on her. "Not … even … in … jest!" His voice felt like a raw wound.

  She stared at him, white-faced, and Symon moved to her side, slipped a comforting arm around her waist. The hurt in her eyes made him pause. After all, they were his best friends, the only people Garran could name as family, and slowly he reined in his temper. When he spoke again his voice was gentler. "Both of you know better than that." He tried a reassuring smile but failed in its accomplishment. "Besides, you know I’m immune."

  They moved closer and stood as a couple, united against him. "We promised them," Symon told him. "It’s been five years now, and we swore we would find our men wives."

  "And we always keep our promises, don’t we?" Garran stood and moved to the far side of the room and examined the star field in the view-screen. The individual points of light moved leisurely past, and just as slowly he nodded. "A man should not live alone. I’m proof enough of that. Very well, I agree. As you say, we have no other options. Our men need the women and this is the best way to get them."

  The wall next to the screen held a small picture, a holopic of a woman holding a small child. The three-dimensional image caught his attention. This image was all that he had left of his wife and daughter. A chill passed through him and he placed one large hand next to it on the wall.

  "No one should have to be alone."

  Chapter One

  Earth, 2488

  "No one should be alone at a time like this." Sarah stepped into the dingy hospital corridor and flagged down a passing nurse’s aide. "Andrea. I need you!"

  Andrea glanced down at the stack of white towels she carried, a worried look on her face. "But Dr. Johnson, Dr. Masterson asked me to bring these to his office."

  In a swift movement Sarah grabbed the towels and dumped them on a nearby gurney. "You work on my floor and I decide what your duties are. You come here, and I’ll deal with our chief-of-staff." She pulled the younger woman into the cramped labor room. Its walls and ceilings were the same ugly gray-green as the rest of the hospital, but enlivened by old paper posters of flowers and animals, Sarah’s attempt to cheer up the otherwise barren environment. One wall held the diagnostic panel, the only sign this room lived in the twenty-fifth century. With a practiced eye, Sarah checked the screen for the progress of the labor, the amount of dilation. It would be hours yet before this baby would be born.

  The laboring woman on the narrow bed reached out a hand to them. A ripple passed along her swollen belly and she cried out, eyes wide in alarm.

  Andrea instantly grabbed the woman’s hand. "There, there, it’s going to be okay. Breathe with me." She began a slow pant, coaxing the frightened woman into doing the same. They breathed in unison and a sense of calm entered the room. Andrea glanced back at Sarah, her concern over the towels gone. "Go on, Dr. Johnson. I’ll stay with her."

  Sarah smiled her relief. "You’re in the best of hands, Maria. Andrea will let me know when I need to take over."

  She re-entered the corridor and glanced at the slightly disheveled pile of towels. Maria was the third woman to arrive alone today. Dr. Masterson had to stop purloining her aides. She needed them for patients. It was bad enough she had to help these poor women without drugs or equipment too expensive for the state supported hospital to afford.

  Sometimes she felt like she might as well be practicing medicine in the twentieth century for all the advances made in the past five hundred years. Only a laboring woman in serious jeopardy would be allowed a transfer to the few rooms where more costly equipment was available.

  Of course dissatisfaction with her job was only part of her problem. Lately her whole life seemed to lack…something.

  Down the hall someone called for her. Putting aside her contemplative thoughts, Sarah ran to answer them.

  Several hours later, Sarah exited Maria’s room, pulled off her gloves and gown, and dumped them down the sanitizer chute outside the door. A baby girl, Maria had a baby girl. Surprisingly healthy, too, for an unplanned pregnancy. Leaning against the wall, she tried to relax and ignore her nagging discontent. Was it that she envied Maria? Could she be jealous of that small bundle of life, or envy Maria the dark-haired man who’d shown up just in time to see his daughter born?

  A baby of her own, a man of her own. Maybe that’s what she was missing, why she kept feeling this odd restlessness. Wanting to move, go somewhere else, do something besides….

  "Dr. Johnson!"

  She cringed. Do something besides play stupid power games with her boss. She straightened to face him. "Dr. Masterson. Did you want something?"

  "My towels. I asked for fresh towels over two hours ago."

  Sarah nodded to the stack still sitting on the gurney nearby. "There they are."

  He narrowed his eyes. "And the aide? Where
is she?"

  An inward groan almost escaped her. Of course, Andrea’s blond prettiness--towels indeed! "She’s where she should be, with her patients. We had six unplanned deliveries today…."

  He gave an impatient wave of his hand. "Your problems are not my concern, Dr. Johnson. But when I want something, I expect to get it." He glanced down her body, a leer on his face. "You could be replaced, you know. There are three obstetricians to every post these days. Not too many people having babies anymore."

  "If there are so many out-of-work doctors, then why not hire more? I could use some help."

  "We can’t afford it. Staffing is over-budget as it is."

  Right. She’d seen the budget and there’d been an increase in spending. Where was the money going--to Masterson’s new office with attached full bath, perhaps? But even she didn’t dare say anything about that.

  His leer deepened. "You know, Sarah, I might be able to find more help for you, but I’d have to make cuts elsewhere. Maybe you could have dinner with me tonight and discuss it." He came closer, reached out to stroke her cheek. "You have such nice skin."

  Her stomach churned and she jerked away. "I don’t like being touched, Doctor!"

  He withdrew his hand, fingers slowly folding into a fist. A look of contempt crossed his face. "Yes, I remember. Pity. You’re not a beauty, but there is an appeal. Oh, well." He turned to leave.

  "Dr. Masterson." Sarah’s voice was subdued.

  "Yes?" He glanced back, sudden interest in his voice.

  "Don’t forget your towels."

  * * * *

  "You told him to take his own towels?" Laura crowed with delight. "What did he do then?"

  Sarah shrugged. "Snarled something, picked them up and left."

  Her three companions howled in appreciation. "Oh I wish I’d been there to see that!" Alexia said.

  "This calls for another round." Jessie picked up the wine bottle and topped off everyone’s glass. "Sarah finally got one back at slime-ball Masterson."

  It was Sarah’s turn in the Tuesday night bitching-feast. Each week she and her friends met for dinner to converse and complain about their lives. As oldest she usually went last.

  Laura Thomas, her closest friend, worked as an obstetric nurse, Alexia Simmons and Jessie Williams were lab techs at the hospital, and no one liked Masterson.

  The restaurant, Hannah’s Hideaway, was their favorite. Inexpensive, good food, and better wine. The red draperies across the windows were made of real cloth--the battered tables and chairs were simulated wood. Artificial plants hung from the ceiling in woven baskets and Sarah had been told once they resembled something called a ‘fern’.

  The only condescension to the times was the wall with a large media panel in the center, showing news bulletins, ads, and public announcements. The sound was kept off most of the time and only something important would override the mute.

  Sarah sighed as she recalled the rest. "Well, he got one back at me, too. He called later and told me I have to come in tomorrow afternoon. I only get a half-day off this week."

  All moaned in sympathy with her.

  "I’m sorry, Sarah," Laura told her. "Maybe we can do something in the morning. So, is that the last of it? What else happened today?"

  She sipped her wine. The cool tartness danced on her tongue. "I ran out of coffee this morning and it’ll be a week before I can get more."

  Her friends groaned. Sarah’s fondness for the black beverage was renowned and they knew after a week’s lack she’d be hard to deal with.

  Jessie tried to be helpful. "Well, at least you can get some at the hospital."

  Now Sarah groaned. "A week of that brown swill and I may swear off the stuff for good."

  Too unlikely. They all laughed.

  "So, anything else?" Alexia prompted.

  Sarah stared into her glass. "I got groped on the p-tran on the way over here."

  "Eww, " they said in unison. Men often took advantage of the crowded public transport cars to fondle a woman without her permission. Getting groped was a daily hazard. Sarah’s stomach turned as she remembered the feel of the man's fingers, pawing at her skin in the anonymous crush. She didn’t like being touched. It made her…queasy. "I wish I knew why they always pick on me. That’s the third time this week."

  "Well, if you didn’t wear such flashy colors," Jessie said.

  Sarah glanced down at her light green coverall and narrowed her eyes. "I refuse to dress in black…."

  Laura nodded knowingly. "She has a thing about dark colors, ever since ‘the Beast’ showed up wearing them."

  "General Garran Doranth is not the reason I don’t wear black!"

  "He’s the main one. I swear, Sarah, that man has more influence on you than old Masterson does." She nodded confidentially to Alexia and Jessie. "She talks about him all the time, you’d think she had a thing for him."

  "He is really good looking…for a Gaian," Alexia said sweetly.

  Sarah’s mouth dropped open. "You…you…I don’t believe this. I detest the man. He’s evil, loathsome." She tried to calm her breathing and failed. "He killed Karen."

  Laura patted her hand. "No, Sarah. I know Karen was like a sister to you. But it was a war and people died. That happens. You can’t hold a single man responsible for it."

  Even after five years it still hurt. "The Hope was a hospital ship," she said stubbornly. "It shouldn’t have been attacked. And besides, he was so callous about it. I copied that broadcast he made when he announced the fleet’s destruction and every once in a while I watch it."

  Laura’s jaw dropped. "Why would you do that?"

  "To remind myself that no matter how bad Masterson gets, I’ll never hate anyone worse than General Garran, the Gaian Beast!"

  Jessie flashed her an amused glance. "Well, trust Sarah to find a good use for it," she said dryly.

  "At least the war is over, now," Alexia said. "No one else will die. The Gaians have the freedom to choose their future and that’s more than we have."

  Sarah’s restlessness returned. "You’re right. They have a future, and we should, too. I want more than this."

  "Like what?" Laura asked.

  She leaned forward. "Like a family, a man to love me, a child of my own. Think that’s going to happen here? When was the last time you went to a wedding? No man wants to commit anymore to one woman. And it shows in the birthrate. We see fewer and fewer babies being born with a father around."

  All three nodded in agreement. Jessie, ever the practical one, pointed out the obvious. "You’re right, there aren’t many men around willing to commit. So what can we do about it?"

  "Yeah, Sarah. I want a husband, same as you," Laura told her. "But show me where I can find one."

  Before she could respond, the media panel gave off a great gong, drawing their attention, and as the sound faded, Sarah became sharply aware of a child’s laugh. The screen turned black then the center showed the face of a baby, its eyes bright and mouth open in a cooing smile. The image panned out and revealed a man holding the child, cradling it carefully in his arms. He smiled and laughed as the infant gurgled at him. The happy sounds cut right through Sarah.

  He wore a loose fitting, light-blue shirt, open at the neck. The color alone was enough to catch her attention. So few people dressed in anything but black or grays. His hair was dark and fell to his shoulders with one lock hanging across his forehead. When he looked at the camera, his eyes were light brown. He looked healthy, happy, and devastatingly handsome.

  Laura gaped. "Well, he’d do!"

  Sarah didn’t say anything, but her heart flip-flopped in her chest. Sometimes she dreamed of a man like this--wonderful dreams. His body, hands, everything but the face was just like the man who visited her sleeping hours. Of course, she couldn’t recognize the face--her lover’s face was always a blank.

  Lettering appeared. "Seeking a new life? Want children, a husband, a home of your own? If you’re unmarried and between nineteen and thirty-five years old, com
e to Exavier Hall at twenty-one hours to learn more about this exciting offer." The media panel faded to black.

  Alexia was the one to break the silence. "Sarah, where’s Exavier Hall?"

  * * * *

  Exavier Hall was on the old college grounds, about five minutes from the restaurant by p-tran. It wasn’t the best part of town, but as the vehicle rattled to a jerky stop, they noticed quite a few patrollers around. Many other women got off with them.

  The patrolmen were rough and unsmiling, and Sarah and the others kept well away from them. It was unlikely a security man would molest a woman with so many people about, but it was usually better to err on the side of caution. At least the official security people would keep the unofficial ruffians away.

  Sarah came to a sudden stop in front of the building, awestruck. "There’s a tree here." The other three stared with her. "It must be the last one in the city."

  It was huge, taller than the hall by a hundred meters or more. Broad limbs spread across the courtyard, spilling out above the clear unscalable fence surrounding the trunk. Stunned, Sarah wandered under the canopy of leaves.

  Jessie stood next to her and sniffed. "The air is fresher here."

  Laura and Alexia joined them. "So beautiful," Laura said. "Why did they stop planting them, Sarah?"

  "They said trees took up too much water." Sarah took a deep breath. Usually the city air had a metallic tang to it, but under the tree it seemed…cleaner. As she gazed up into the canopy, a leaf detached and spiraled down. Reaching out, she plucked it from the air. It felt strange, smooth and bumpy. Looking close, she saw unhealthy yellow and brown blotches on the green surface.

  Alexia took it from her and examined it. "Diseased, I think." She looked up and pointed to the many other leaves like it, the bare branches in other parts of the tree. "It’s gotten old and they haven’t taken care of it. I suspect it’s dying."

  "They don’t take care of the p-tran cars or the hospital, why would they take care of a tree?" Jessie asked.