“Yes, I can see him now. John, how are you?” She asked. He looked terrible!
“I’m feeling better, all of a sudden, Admiral,” he whispered.
“Why is he restrained, Captain Hanson?” Admiral Mason asked.
“He keeps trying to leave. Perhaps you can persuade him to be good and get well,” Captain Hanson said, smiling a little. “I’ll let you two talk privately for a few minutes, Admiral.”
“John, what happened to you? I never heard about any explosion,” she asked. Her face showed her great concern for him.
“I’m not surprised. Most of the stuff going on here is top secret. I got blown into an I-brace inside the hangar bay, and it messed up my left side. They’re fixing me up, though. I’ll be home soon as I can,” he said weakly.
“An I-brace? Oh my God! You’re lucky to be alive, John!” Her brow furrowed.
“I know. I was outside in my space suit, trying to reach the airlock. I hope they’re using my plasma-enriched blood so I can get well quicker. I miss you something awful,” he said, looking into the vid screen. His monitor began beeping as his heart rate increased.
“All right, Admiral Mason, Captain Mason. I have to ask you to sign off, now. He has to go back to his room. I’ve ordered a copy of his medical file to be sent to you immediately, Admiral Mason,” Captain Hanson shared.
“Thank you so much,” Admiral Mason said. “And thank you especially for letting me talk with my husband live. I appreciate your courtesy.”
“Absolutely. I’ll keep you informed. Hanson out.”
The call was not welcome information for the Admiral. John was hurt again; seriously, this time. His medical report came over her comm link. She read his diagnosis and internal damage report, and became more upset. Thankfully, the prognosis was a full recovery. She cancelled her scheduled activities and left the office. She picked up Victor and went home, to worry and cry in peace. She almost lost John for good. Her despair was so great she was incapable of playing with her son. Victor lay on her lap while she sat on the couch in the darkness, silently crying.
Mason notified Sarah he was in the hospital on base, and asked her to come see him if she could. Maybe Rachel would feel better hearing from his sister how he was doing. Sarah came to see him every day, and sent messages to Rachel after each visit, and her messages helped a lot.
The explosion was ruinous to the progress of the dome’s completion schedule; the plex components would have to be remanufactured and shipped out again. This would extend completion by another three months. The explosion was not an accident, by any means, and it took many human lives, much more important than the plex dome sections. Everyone in the control tower was killed, and more were injured in adjacent buildings. On the cargo transport, all were killed. The aft thrusters malfunctioned and imploded upon ignition. A full investigation was ordered to determine the cause of the malfunction, but the damage was already done. The public announcement would be made that afternoon. With so many deaths, Earth Command could not keep it a secret forever.
Mason was released in five days from the hospital and promptly left Mars in his fighter. He received approval for departure, but Captain Hanson insisted he have a co-pilot. As his fighter approached Moon Base, Mason received a personal request from Colonel Tyrone, asking him to escort his 15yr-old twin daughters to Houston for him. Mason agreed, and Tyrone bought him a first class ticket on the midnight transport.
The Tyrone twins were blond, very pretty, and flirtatious. No wonder Tyrone wanted them escorted, Mason thought. The only way he could keep them in their seats was by playing poker with them. The girls were ruthless poker players; they had their own “secret tells” between each other. Thankfully, Mason was no gambler, and they only played for points. When the transport landed, he and the twins gathered their belongings and stepped out onto the platform.
Rachel and Victor arrived at the platform as the twins kissed Mason on the cheek, giggling and reminding him he owed them two thousand points. Victor ran up to Mason and hugged him; but Rachel became incensed seeing the young, blonde twins hug and kiss him. She returned to the shuttle, leaving Mason and Victor to follow her.
Mason said hello to Rachel as he got into her shuttle, but she never responded. He was physically exhausted. She flew them home in record time, slammed the shuttle cockpit door shut, went into her house, and locked herself in the bedroom. Mason knocked on the door and pleaded with her to open it, but to no avail. He sat on the floor outside her bedroom and waited for her to come out, or let him inside. When she finally opened the door, Mason got up and tried to gently hold her, but she refused. She was enraged. “Rachel, what is it? What’s wrong? I love you, Rachel, please talk to me,” he pleaded. “I just came home to you. Please talk to me.”
“Go away!” She shouted to him, red in the face.
“I just got home, Rachel. Please. Let me hold you,” he begged. Mason tried to kiss her, and she fiercely bit his lower lip. His blood started pouring down his chin onto his uniform. He held his mouth in disbelief. “Rachel, what did you do that for? I only wanted to kiss you.”
She kneed him in the balls so hard he doubled over in pain, and yelled, “GET OUT!” at the top of her voice. Victor watched the entire scene and began to cry. Rachel went into her bedroom, slammed and locked the door.
The knee attack hurt Mason a lot more than it usually would have because he was still recovering from his internal abdominal wounds. He was in great pain, physical and emotional, and began bleeding again around his wound sites. After Mason caught his breath, he sat on the couch for several minutes, shaking, in tears. He called a taxi shuttle, and scrolled through listings of hotels on the vid screen, as Victor cried next to him. The taxi arrived shortly. Mason took his gear bags from Mars, all his other packed bags stored in the guest room, as well as his things in the safe, and left, saying a tearful good-bye to Victor. He went away. He got out. He was gone.
Mason’s lip was bleeding profusely when he checked into the hotel, and he asked for a referral to a concierge physician, holding his handkerchief against his lip. The bellman stacked up all his bags against the wall of his room for him. He went into the shower and bawled like a baby, letting the steaming water rain on him. Mason had never known such great emotional pain, not even at the hands of the torturers. His world was devastated.
Victor knocked on his Mother’s door, but she was so enraged she refused to let him inside. The boy called Grandma Caitlin, crying and sobbing, telling her, “John Mason left us. Mommy was so mean to him, Grandma, and he left us. Mommy won’t let me in.”
Rachel overheard Victor’s call and came to the big vid screen, completely livid. Caitlin spent some time calming her down and talking sense to her distraught daughter, while Victor cried and cried. At long last, Rachel began to settle down, and tried to soothe her son.
“Mommy, why were you so mean to John Mason? He just came home to us. He loves us, and now he’s gone,” Victor cried.
“No, he’s gone just for tonight. He’ll be back tomorrow,” she consoled him.
He shook his head. “No he won’t, Mommy. He’s gone. He took everything, and moved out.” Victor showed her the empty closet, where he’d stored all his personal things when he came to stay with her. She’d never thought to have him unpack for good. Now, he was gone. He really did leave. He took everything belonging to him, and got out. She came back to the vid screen, crying to her Mother.
“He left me! He left me!” She began sobbing, as the realization of her husband leaving her hit like a ton of bricks; he did just what she screamed at him to do. He got out. He was gone.
“What did you say to him, child?” Caitlin asked, trying to be steady and calm for her daughter. Rachel kept crying.
“Mommy yelled at him to go away, then kicked him and told him to get out,” Victor said, and started crying again. “John Mason left us!”
“You did what? Rachel, you don’t tell your husband to get out, especially when you’re five and a half months pregnant! What’s wr
ong with you? Rachel, you go get John. Go get him now. Go get him and beg him to come home. Get on your knees and beg his forgiveness if you have to. Just bring him home, child. Do it now!” Caitlin exclaimed.
“I don’t know where he went, Momma,” Rachel sobbed.
“He went to the Hilton, Mommy, next to the base. I saw him look it up and tell the taxi man to take him there,” Victor cried.
“Then you go get him, Rachel, and bring him home. He loves you, Rachel. You bring him home tonight!” Caitlin told her.
Rachel signed off and went to freshen her wet face. The vid comm link beeped, and she ran to answer it, thinking it was John.
“Mrs. Mason? This is Mrs. Tyrone. I’ve been trying to reach your husband.”
“He’s out now, Mrs. Tyrone,” she answered as normally as she could.
“I wanted to thank Captain Mason for escorting my twin girls home from Moon Base. The Colonel got delayed, and they have to be back in school tomorrow. We didn’t dare send them alone, since they’re at that precocious stage. Captain Mason was so kind to help. Will you tell him I called?” Mrs. Tyrone asked.
“Yes, I will, Mrs. Tyrone. I’ll tell him. Thank you for calling.” Rachel felt so foolish. She never told her husband she saw the twins. The only things she said to him were “Go away,” and “Get out.” What was wrong with her? Her Momma was right. She had to go get John now.
“I’m Mrs. Mason. My husband Captain John Mason checked in a little while ago. Did he remember to leave a key for me?” Rachel asked the Hilton desk clerk, holding Victor’s hand.
“No, Mrs. Mason. But I’ll make one for you right now,” the clerk said, as he looked at the very pregnant woman in front of him. “He’s in room 1537; the lifts are right behind you.”
“Thank you.” She took the lift, and found his room. She took a deep breath, and knocked.
Mason came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his hips, holding ice on his bleeding lip, trying to untie the tight belt of the folded hotel bathrobe with one hand. “C’mon in, doctor. I’ll be right with you.” He opened the door slightly, hurrying into the bathroom to dress. “Give me a minute, please.” When he came out, Rachel and Victor were standing inside the door. Mason stopped in his tracks. Victor ran up to him, hugging him for all he was worth.
Rachel began, “John, this is all a misunderstanding. We want you to come home with us, please.” She tried to smile, but the crushed look on his face and his red eyes told her this would not be easy for either of them.
Another knock on the partially open door broke the deafening silence. “Mr. Mason, I’m Dr. Goldstein. You sent for me?”
Mason opened the door and let the doctor inside. He held a bloody cloth with ice inside against his mouth. “Thank you for coming this late, Dr. Goldstein. I’m John Mason. This is my wife and stepson.”
“What seems to be the problem?” The doctor asked, looking at them.
“My lip won’t stop bleeding,” Mason said.
Dr. Goldstein came in and sat her bag down on the coffee table, and asked Mason to sit on the couch. Victor went to his Mother, and they walked over towards the window.
The doctor took a quick look at his lip, and said, “Mr. Mason, I have to ask you a few questions first. This looks like a bite; a defensive wound.”
“I know, doctor,” he responded. He sighed heavily.
“From your wife, sir?” Dr. Goldstein asked him.
“Yes,” he answered, waiting for the third degree.
“Did you force yourself on her, or attempt to?”
Rachel answered, “No, he did not force himself on me. He tried to kiss me; that’s all.” She looked out the window. “It was all a misunderstanding, Dr. Goldstein,” Rachel said quietly.
Dr. Goldstein looked at Rachel, then at Mason. “Are there any more wounds or bruises, on either of you? I am required by law to ask these questions, Mr. and Mrs. Mason.”
“No, just my lip,” Mason lied.
“Has he hit or abused you, tonight, or in the past, Mrs. Mason?” Goldstein asked.
“No, John has always been kind to me, and gentle. He has always protected me. He’s protecting me now, by calling you, instead of going to sick bay,” Rachel confessed. “He’s Space Marines, Doctor.” The doctor accepted her explanation, and nodded.
Dr. Goldstein went into the bathroom, scrubbed, used hand sanitizer, and put gloves on. “That would be awkward, going to a military hospital. You’d get a lot more questioning there, I’d imagine. Now, let me see your lip again.” She looked at his lip much closer, turned it inside and out, and said, “You’re going to need some work, and a few stitches or staples. Any preference?”
“Stitches, please,” Mason answered quietly.
“I’m going to give you a numbing shot, then begin.” The doctor used a programmable injection gun from her bag, and shot his mouth area twice. “I’m going to cauterize the wound to make the bleeding stop. Ever seen one of these used?” She held up a laser knife.
“Oh yeah. A surgical nurse used it on my wounds,” Mason said, glancing at Rachel.
“Okay then. I’ll begin.”
As she began cauterizing his lip, Rachel advised, “John, better hold your nose,” but it was too late; he’d gotten a strong whiff of his flesh burning. Mason ran to the bathroom and vomited violently, further damaging his internal wounds.
“He’s always had a weak stomach,” Rachel explained. Dr. Goldstein reprogrammed her injection gun and went into the bathroom, and shot him with a stomach relaxant. Momentarily, she was able to continue her work, and sewed some stitches into his lip. After the doctor finished with him, Mason asked her to help Rachel.
She asked, “What seems to be the problem?”
“I get upset easily and I’m somewhat irrational as of late. I should have been past that stage by now,” Rachel calmly explained.
“Here, let me sample your blood.” She pricked her little finger and smeared a drop of blood onto a card and scanned it. Dr. Goldstein said, “Your hormones are completely out of balance, Mrs. Mason. I need to compare this swab with your last blood panel, if I may,” as she held her scanner for Rachel’s thumbprint; no results came up.
“I’m Space Forces, not civilian,” Rachel explained.
Dr. Goldstein found her. “Here you are. You’re an Admiral? He is protecting you, Mrs. Mason. Now, I want you to go to your obstetrician first thing tomorrow. You are showing signs of macrosomia. This needs to be addressed right away, Mrs. Mason. I’m prescribing at least two to three days’ rest for you. Regarding your emotional distress, I recommend a very mild tranquilizer, to take the edge off.”
“As long as it won’t hurt my baby, go ahead,” Rachel agreed.
Dr. Goldstein shot her from the injection gun. “Did you experience hormonal imbalance this late with your first child?”
“No, not this late. But my first husband was always around then. Captain Mason’s been away on assignment over seven weeks,” Rachel answered.
“It makes a difference,” Dr. Goldstein agreed, and looked at Mason. “My gut tells me there is more I should know before leaving, Mr. Mason. Please remove your robe.”
Mason sighed. “These aren’t from tonight,” he said, taking off his robe. His left side from arm pit to his hips was packed, bandaged and wrapped, with fresh blood all along his bandages.
“Tell me how these wounds came to be, Mr. Mason. I am obligated to change your dressings,” Dr. Goldstein demanded.
“I’ve got some pre-medicated bandages with me, doctor,” Mason said as he went to his gear bag, and returned with very large bandages and gauze. He explained to her what happened to him last week. Rachel filled in the technical medical details.
“Would you assist me, then? The less time these are open to the air, the better,” Dr. Goldstein asked Rachel.
They went into the bathroom to scrub, used hand sanitizer and gloves, and began to unwrap Mason’s wounds. “The hole where the I-brace penetrated is still clearly visible, John.
I’m surprised they didn’t seal it with plasti-skin for you,” Rachel commented.
“They told me my pancreas would re-grow faster if it remained open. I don’t know,” he said, trying not to look at her.
“Organ regeneration, too? You should be in a hospital, Mr. Mason, not in a hotel!” The doctor exclaimed. “Damned lucky, Mr. Mason. You’re damned lucky, indeed.” They completed cleaning and packing his wounds, and bandaged him. “I want you to go to the base hospital tomorrow about these wounds, all right? No messing around half a day. Go first thing in the morning. You need a thorough scanner analysis, and probably more regeneration treatments, too. Now, here’s the bad news – my bill.”
Mason thanked her for taking care of them, and paid her. The doctor took his soiled bandages in a sterile bag with her and left. He got the extra blanket for Victor, and Rachel made his bed on the couch. Victor whispered, “Be nice to John Mason, Mommy.”
“I will. Now go to sleep, Victor.” She followed Mason into the separate bedroom and closed the door.
“Mrs. Tyrone called to thank you for escorting their twins home to Houston. I didn’t know they were in your care, John. I over-reacted when they kissed you,” she explained to him.
“Come on, Rachel. There’s more to this whole thing than those spoiled girls. Will you please tell me what’s going on? If you don’t want me anymore, just tell me. I’ve been trying all night to figure out what to do with myself now; where to go, what to do, now that you don’t love me anymore.” Mason was in tears, his big heart breaking in front of her. “Just tell me straight out. Is there another man? Did you find someone else while I was gone? Why do you hate me so much, Rachel?” He was truly suffering.
“Oh, John, I’m sorry. So very sorry.” She reached for him, and he backed away. Rachel began to cry. “There’s no other man, John. You’re the man I love, and the only man I want. The man I need. John, please forgive me,” she cried. “Please come home to me. Please, John. I don’t hate you, I love you. I didn’t mean to drive you away. I’m a stupid, jealous fool. I couldn’t believe you left me.”
Vengeance of Sukesh: John Mason (Legend of John Mason) Page 25