"I like it, too," said Richard cheerfully, and I glanced at him with a twinge of alarm. He caught my glance—obviously the intensified awareness is still around—and spoke calmly. "The supply of grapes is so limited, we'll none of us be liable to have any problems with the wine—there just won't be much of it! But it's nice to have now, isn't it?"
I agreed, and went off to complete my dressing for dinner, if one may refer to such primitive procedures by so grand a title. When I returned to the circle I found the mellow mood to have increased. The others were waiting for me before beginning the meal, and I was oddly touched by that. We sipped the wine companionably, and the easy talk became relaxed and carefree.
"I don't want to embarrass anyone," said Jinjur quietly, "but unless somebody's managed to be a lot more discreet than I ever suspected, there's something screwy about our female cycles."
There was silence, and quick little questioning glances flashed around the circle.
"Now . . .no doubt there could be many reasons for that," continued Jinjur. "But in my case, the only one I can think of is that Josephine's surgery somehow interfered with the pattern I'm accustomed to."
I spoke up, trying to make my own words as clear and still impersonal as Jinjur's, to say that I, too, had not yet begun any menstrual flow. To my surprise, the others joined in! With the exception of Carmen, the other women were puzzled, but completely sure they had not conceived—they had been enjoying the processes of flirting and courting so much, they had deliberately postponed the inevitable conclusions, while of course having every intention of selecting a mate in the next month or so. The five of us stared at John in consternation.
"I don't understand that, at all," he said hastily. "I'd better ask Josephine some serious questions. David, can you set up the sonar scanner so I can talk to Josephine? We'll do it at next light."
The meal resumed, and we passed a normal night, but I was grateful for the relaxation of the wine—I might have otherwise found sleep difficult.
In the morning I joined David and the others at the sonar mapper. It was now safely ensconced in a rock crevasse situated well above high tide, with its long umbilical cord leading down the shore into the depths of Crater Lagoon and to Josephine in the Dragonfly.
"Josephine. Current activity status report, please." I addressed my old ally confidently.
"Current activity: Proceeding with emergency repairs. Number of repairs completed, thirty-two. Estimated number of repairs still to do, eighteen." Josephine's voice was warm and reassuring; I had designed her to be so in these circumstances, with all the emergency repair work still to be done.
"Request access to file of medical procedures, most recent, Josephine," David stated. There was a brief pause.
"Access granted, but John should be available for interpretation, if necessary."
"I'm right here, Josephine," said John. "What is the report on the sperm, ova, and tissue samples you kept for analysis?"
"Positive." Again, that brief and noncommittal answer!
"Josephine, we'd like a much more detailed summary of your findings, please," I directed. "John shall explain any terms we cannot understand, but we need to know the results of your examination and procedure. Are all of us returned to normal sexual functions? Are all of us in good health, and are the women capable of child-bearing? When can we expect ovulation?" I knew that my voice was harsher than I had used in some time to Josephine. In her programmed care for us she sometimes kept what she considered to be unnecessary or unpleasant details to herself. However, the words came readily enough at my command:
"All health checks are normal. All functions are normal. Ovulation for women will resume at conclusion of current pregnancy."
"WHAT?" Out voices screamed the word.
"Repeat that report, Josephine," David sternly commanded. "And clarify statement regarding 'current' pregnancy!"
To my horror, I heard the mechanical voice continue, repeating the report, and then came these dreadful words:
"While conducting requested operations designed to return the crew to complete human sexual function preliminary to breeding, I analyzed all combinations available from the limited gene pool. Best selections for each female were matched with best available male. Ova were selected and fertilized using the available sperm saved from the prior sperm-count analysis samples gathered from the males, then implanted along with hormones to initiate pregnancy cycle."
I stared helplessly at the sonar mapper, at David, at John . . .John!
"What did you do to me?" I shrieked at him. His face was white, and his eyes blank with astonishment.
"Josephine!" he shouted. "Why did you initiate pregnancy? That was not part of your instructions from me!"
Almost, I could hear the unemotional intelligence shrug: "The obvious objective to the directed procedure was to reproduce. So the best and most efficient reproduction objective was calculated and implemented. Consideration was given to possible implantation of two each foeti in each female using sperm from different males, but decision was made to simplify pregnancy and birth by limiting infants to one each female. All findings indicate pregnancies will be normal in duration, and deliveries will be uncomplicated. Expected date of births will be two hundred fifteen Zuni days from now."
In terror, I stared at Jinjur, and Shirley, and Cinnamon, and Arielle—eyes wide and faces pale—all of us were pregnant? By computer?
I got to my feet, somehow, and fled. By the time I reached the shore and fumbled loose the mooring rope, my tears were pouring, and blindly I released the small craft and flung myself upon it in despair.
While it drifted aimlessly, I wept, the tears going through the deck unnoticed into the sea. I felt I had been betrayed, even raped, by an intelligent monster at least partly my own creation! With hideous efficiency, the expert skill of the unfeeling computer had succeeded in an accomplishment which might well have been beyond our human ability. To have successfully impregnated all five of us was a task I should have doubted could be done, even had such an awful eventuality entered my mind. My feelings were chaotic, hysterical, wildly frantic as I realized the enormity of what had happened to me! I stormed aloud, then raged in silence, back and forth in desperate fury. I've no idea how long I howled my woe, but inevitably, eventually, I subsided in exhaustion and lay limp and miserable.
I had not drifted far, I saw through swollen eyes. The light had nearly faded, and the sea around me was flat and calm. I sat up, trying to catch my breath, and to return to some sort of normal state of mind. However, I couldn't think at all, and simply stared at the little waves behind me. I felt betrayed, frightened, and, now that my anger was worn out, desperately lonely. Then I heard the sound of rhythmic splashing; it came steadily nearer, but I didn't move as Richard's face, dripping, confronted my own. His eyes were worried, and gently he put both big hands around my head.
"Reiki? Let me help." The sound of human compassion brought fresh tears, but the weeping was less painful now. I lay, held tightly against another living heart; and when this shower passed I felt able to return to the darkening shore.
I discovered that my friends had undergone, in varying intensities, all the same passions I had experienced, and were trying to assimilate all the implications of Josephine's thoughtless interference. However, they had gone beyond me in their decision-making, and were beginning to accept what had happened as fact.
"Josephine absorbed a lot of outraged yelling, after you left," Jinjur told me. "Apparently she's programmed to react, because she wouldn't speak a word for hours. Her persona was replaced by a mechanical voice."
"Yes, that was part of the program," I admitted. "If there's a real overload of anger from us, it means she needs to recalculate her entire position before she interacts again, so she was going through that."
"I wish that electronic moron had a head so I could knock some sense into her," muttered Shirley. I gripped her hand tightly, unable to speak. It felt good to realize I really was not alone in this predicame
nt! As we went through a semblance of our normal routines, we talked, slowly beginning to comprehend what lay ahead of us.
We plied John with questions; we are all so ignorant, and feel so helpless!
"What will it be like?"
"How will I know when the baby is ready to be born?"
"Should I be doing anything different?"
John looked like he was trying very hard to be soothing, and knew he was not succeeding very well: "You just go on, living as usual, and when the babies come . . ." Here he looked definitely frightened. " . . .they come." Far from reassuring!
"There is one good thing, though," continued John. "You won't have to worry about infections in either you or your baby—unlike on Earth, where going to the hospital exposes you to drug-resistant germs. I took a sample of soil down with me and had Josephine analyze it. As I suspected, although there are the Zuni equivalent of bacteria and viruses in the soil, the bacteria have no defenses against our white blood cells, and the viruses are unable to use our cells internal machinery to replicate themselves—they use a different genetic code."
"I think I should tell you," said Carmen, later, "that I'm quite sure I'm pregnant too. I'm not so sure of my own due date, but I also think I should tell you that I'm pleased about it."
That produced a heavy silence, and I reluctantly faced reality, squarely. The men had said nothing at all, but now David cleared his throat, and spoke huskily.
"When Josephine is ready to talk with us again, she may reveal who is the father of each—baby," he said tentatively.
I looked around at the serious faces, and sighed.
"Well, I suppose that will matter to me, sometime. But all I can bring myself to do now is accept the fact that a baby is begun, and I'll do my best to do the thing right."
There was a soft murmur of agreement. Any alternative is more unthinkable than these present unthinkable circumstances! Each of us was busy with our own thoughts after that, although David found comfort, as always, in music. The soft melody of the little flute seemed unbearably sweet tonight, and if I had had any tears left I would have wept. But the gentle sound went on, and my sore heart eased as I listened to the beautiful song.
I was startled, yet again, at Richard's low voice in my ear. "Would you care for a stroll, ma'am?"
I stoo, to look at the man. Oddly enough, it was then, as I realized that there was no need for me either to avoid Richard or to seek him out, no pressure to conform or to rebel, that all my barriers came down. With no hesitation, I smiled up at the dark face above me, and said, "Thank you very much, I should enjoy that."
I think the polite response startled him, after the weeks of cool rebuffs, but he reached for my arm with a gentle force that made me melt against him as we walked away into the quiet darkness. It was not far along the trail before the whole of me was engulfed in that embrace, which made it extremely difficult to walk, but which I confess I enjoyed greatly.
BIRTHING
As I begin this entry, I can feel my unborn child moving within me. It's pleasant to rest here, recalling that stormy time, secure in the private and comfortable little nest that I sometimes share with Richard now. Shortly I must make my way down to Council Rock—our evening meals are much eased as we continue to share the work, particularly now that we are all so cumbersome! As Shirley said, "Now that I get tired quickly, and can't use tools on my lap because I haven't got any lap, I can see just how easy it was, to work with James and the Christmas Bush."
Jinjur agreed. "I used to get a tad annoyed when one of my sergeants went off on maternity leave—throwing away your career, I felt! But I'm going to be just as capable, and so are you, Shirley, when this is over. I'm glad, now, in a way, that we're all vulnerable at once—sort of points out, doesn't it, that it can happen to anybody!"
Having reconciled ourselves, finally, to the prospect of becoming parents, we have been very busy with plans and preparations. It won't be long, now, before the births are due, and we intend to be ready. John's expression, as he watches six heavily pregnant women, clad in billowing sarongs, strolling past him on the beach, is so funny it gives us all a rather wicked pleasure, although of course it's followed by private worries. We are all thankful, yet again, for the careful screening we had undergone at the start of this mission; our collective health is extremely good, and our genetic histories are sound. For years we were monitored by James, and even now we were living a healthy balance of exercise and diet. This, of course, did not excuse in any way Josephine's imprudent actions, and each of us pointed that out to her in various vigorous ways. Jinjur's "Boy, you really screwed us up, you dumb piece of junk!" was perhaps the mildest.
Interestingly, we have slowed down the pace of our existence; not to the Jolly's level, of course, but significantly more leisurely than when we first began our settlement. I admit the easier life is very pleasant! The brisk walk has become a relaxed amble; swimming in the warm water is a restful interlude, with the water relieveing us of the weight we carry; and I can see that, becoming absorbed in what is taking place within our bodies, we are less concerned about the intensity with which we are studying this planet. The prospect of giving birth we contemplate with what may be too much optimism, and a rather easy confidence.
Our concerns about the nutritional adequacy of the foods here were also eased. After watching us closely for many weeks, John came to the conclusion that the food here is nearly adequate, although lacking in fat, and, according to Josephine, low in Vitamin B-12. Accordingly, he directed us to adopt the rather more slow-moving pace that this tropical atmosphere seems to induce, and Josephine instructed Prometheus, on its return, to load the crawler with smaller, more specific vitamins. This left room aboard the crawler for the obstetrical forceps John wanted to have on hand just in case (they had to be specially fabricated by the Christmas Bush on Prometheus, since they certainly hadn't been included in the original supply of medical tools), a few child-sized medical instruments, and some personal items. Among these was a supply of very thin, tough paper for John, several pairs of scissors made of a non-rusting alloy, and a gift from Deirdre: my eyes blurred as I recognized her warm thoughtfulness—it was a laminated photograph of the crew left aboard. I'm not the only one to spend delighted minutes poring over those beloved countenances!
Our easier life has lead to some genuine play—rather fun to watch, and even to participate in. Nels used a bit of burnt stick to draw, upon some large flat stones, various targets, and the men instantly began to try to hit them with every sort of missile and projectile afforded by our surroundings. Little pebbles, hard shards of obsidian, even leftover nutshells were hurled from varying distances with varying techniques, and much boasting and betting accompanied their trials. Practice at these games of skill continue yet, but in a calmer way, as it was determined inevitably, that the real champion, with whatever ammunition, is Jinjur! Her aim is uncanny, and Shirley is a very close second. The men must vie, rather halfheartedly, for third place. To give them credit, their force is tremendous, and several targets have been completely shattered!
I discovered, to my joy, that the finer strands of fiber from the peethoo tree are equal in strength and fineness to the linen threads in my favorite laces, so I can not only keep them in good repair, I can create new ones. They are not as purely white as some of the originals, nor is my skill nearly as fine, but I enjoy making some narrow edgings for the borders of my sarong, saving the lovely pieces I brought with me for the special occasions when I can wear them as Richard likes, with no other garments at all!
The sarongs, and the pareus worn by the men, increase our resemblance to a tribe in the South Pacific. Our outdoor life has altered our appearances, as it has increased our physical strength, and we are having, somewhat to our surprise, a great deal of fun.
Recently, I set out early to gather firewood, and explored far up the little stream. To my delight, I found a spot where it fell some thirty feet into a pool, surrounded by large rocks. It became a favorite retreat, a
place to stand, bemused, while the water poured unceasingly over one's head! The only drawback, possibly, was the distance from Council Rock; Shirley had finally to give up on the idea of constructing such a shower closer to home, after examining the terrain minutely.
Her latest creation was a small but extremely sturdy floating dock. It rises and falls smoothly with the various tides, and provides the visiting Jollys with a trustworthy platform from which to communicate with the flouwen. The flouwen have been tremendously inquisitive every since we've known them, but I was a little surprised to see how eagerly the Jollys come to question them! Their conversations range over all that is on this world and all the flouwen can share of other worlds. Some of the most entertaining conversations that we hear, deal with their evaluations of us!
"The sky-people still move with particularly unnecessary rapidity," said Seetoo. "Their excessive speed frequently results in significant errors and miscalculations. It is obvious that slowing their pace would be considerably more efficient and make much more efficacious use of effort. Have you seen the one they call 'Daaveed' make those laborious ascents to the top of the boobaa tree for fruit, only to have it rejected by the one they call Seeneemaan?"
"Dumb! Too much working anyway!" was Little Red's verdict. "Always asking questions, trying out, lifting, piling up, digging, moving things around with hands . . .but slow and clumsy in water!"
"Most extraordinary!" agreed the Jolly.
As comfortable as the two beings sound together, the fact of their own peculiarities doesn't seem to occur to them as they, so to speak, shake their heads over our own oddities.
Cinnamon's gardening desires have led her to plant flowering bushes and specimens all around the Big House, and at every vantage point along the paths we take. Jinjur's long-frustrated desire to be a farmer has resulted in cages of every sort of small animal. Her detachment from these specimens is far from truly agricultural, however; she is forever taking them out to play with or train, so that we are surrounded now by a private zoo of pets. But we are so few, and this world is so large, that we have tacitly accepted it as our own Eden, to enjoy and play with in great freedom.
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