Massoud (Massoud Chronicles Book 1)

by Amanda R. Norris

  “Very interesting story, Commander. And it’s truly fascinating to see a naturally healed wound, but I’ll fix that scar on your shoulder right after your assessment.”

  “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll keep it, Doctor, as a kind of keepsake—a memento of lost friends.”

  “Are you sure? It is quite large and, forgive me, unsightly. I could just lessen it, if you like.”

  “No, let’s leave it.”

  He continued with the examination, positioning her for the body scan. She had been through enough medical evaluations to know she had to remain still and breathe shallowly. The process was so routine, that it was alarming to see the doctor jump out of his seat and order a shutdown only part way through the process. Massoud and her companions stared at him in bewilderment. He quickly established a privacy shield around Massoud’s alcove.

  “What’s going on, Dr. Taylor?” she asked.

  “I believe I have discovered the cause of your continuing fatigue and apparent slow recovery.”

  “Apparent slow recovery?”

  “Yes, Commander. You’re pregnant.”

  “Could you repeat that, please?”

  “Yes, of course. You’re pregnant.”

  “I’m pregnant!”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t think so. That can’t be right.”

  “Ah yes. I am very sure. I just caught sight of the fetus’s head. I shut down the equipment because it is not rated for obstetrical use. It is designed for adult use only. The emission levels are considered too high for young persons. And your baby is as young as they come. Congratulations.”

  “Congratulations! How can this be possible?” she asked in hushed horror. “What about the contraceptive protocol?”

  “The protocol fails sometimes. It’s not unheard of. And civilians—especially young males I’m sorry to say—are often reckless about keeping the prescribed treatment schedule. It’s a disgrace, if you ask me. I’m surprised that this was not picked up in your pre-departure medical check, but you’re only about nine weeks along, so maybe that was why it was missed. But it really should have been picked up.” He scratched his head as he contemplated the oversight. “It’s very peculiar. Obviously, you shouldn’t be travelling in space in your condition, but I don’t think there’s much choice in this case. Space genes can be a little tricky to fix, you know. I’ll give you a Faraday blanket and radiation blanket for you to use at night. Place them on your mattress and over you when you sleep. You should cover your belly with them at other times, if you can.”

  The doctor smiled at Massoud as if they were having a dull discussion about the weather. She returned his mundane look with one of utter amazement.

  “It appears to be a little bit of a surprise,” he stated blandly.

  “How did it happen?” she croaked.

  “I presume in the routine way,” he smirked at the question. “Contraceptive failures do occur, Commander. Next time date a fleet officer. You know his contraceptive protocol is up to date; it reduces the risks dramatically. Now, I don’t want to run a complete scan with this equipment, so why don’t we do what we can with the information we’ve already collected. It looks like your bone density has been affected. Babies have preferential access to the mother’s calcium. That, and your recent poor nutrition, has resulted in some decalcification. I think it would be best to wait until the baby is born before recalcifying. In the meantime, I am going to prescribe a medical diet, high in prenatal nutrients, calcium and protein. Your muscles have atrophied due to your illness. We’ll get you some physical therapy, and during the day you should stay as active as your energy levels permit.”

  “I can’t be pregnant.”

  “I assure you, you are,” he said firmly and a little impatiently.

  “But I was so sick on Seven B.”

  “You didn’t miscarry, so we’ll presume the illness did the child no harm. That can be confirmed when we return to Denison. You can choose to abort then, if you discover the fetus is damaged.”

  Massoud looked at him in disgust, and her hand instinctively went to her belly.

  “No, I wouldn’t do that. I just can’t believe it. I was never going to have kids. I’m...I was going to live my life in space...You think I’m nine weeks along, really?” She looked confused.

  “That’s my best estimate based on the cranial development. Now, I think you need a few minutes to absorb the news before I lift the privacy shield?”

  She nodded.

  “One more thing, this is a reportable condition. I will have to let your commanding officer know.”

  “No!”

  “I’m afraid yes.” Once again, the doctor spoke firmly. “The regulations are clear. There are certain duties, and areas of the ship, you should avoid—not that you will have any specific duties on this ship. I may need to inform Captain Patel, also. I’ll have to double check the regulations on that point.”

  “Captain Patel?”

  “Yes, the captain of the Achievement.”

  “Oh, yes,” Massoud was a little befuddled. “Doctor, ah, could you give me some time, say twenty-four hours, to tell my commanding officer myself. I think that would be better.”

  “Very well, but in the interim, you should avoid Engineering and sleep with the blankets I give you. I would like to see you often, to track your progress.”

  Detzler and Dr. Foster expressed concern when the privacy shield was finally dropped, but Massoud demurred and Dr. Taylor followed her lead. There was nothing to worry about, but it was a private matter. Dr. Foster scrutinized her face intensely. Her problem had nothing to do with the infection, she reassured him.

  Massoud and the others were then escorted to a cargo bay, where the Achievement’s crew had set up a supply center. The ship’s crew was more than willing to help their rescued comrades, although there was little to do other than assign quarters, distribute personal supplies, and share stories. It was clear that the host crew felt a great deal of joy at finding the Constance’s crew alive. There had been no survivors of the other science ship that had been attacked, and a powerful sense of communal and outraged grief permeated every mention of the lost crew. The usual rivalry between the Class B crew, of the Achievement, and the Class C crew, of the Constance, was absent: Stronger emotions ruled. A temporary notion of equality existed between the senior and the junior crews.

  The rescued crewmembers were offered new uniforms, but replacements were unnecessary. A few weeks on a habitable planet did not deteriorate the fabric of their original uniforms. However, Massoud felt an intense desire to rid herself of anything associated with Delta Alpha 7B. She accepted the new uniform and, when asked if she wanted her own returned to her after cleaning, she refused and ordered it recycled. Soon after, she was approached by a slender and professionally presented lieutenant, who informed her that they were to be cabinmates.

  “I hope you don’t mind sharing. There’ll be a lot of doubling up,” Lt. Singh informed her. “We thought it better to get underway as soon as possible and not spend time in space-dock reconfiguring the living quarters.”

  “An excellent decision, thank you. I’ll try to keep out of your way and not cause too much disruption to your normal routine,” Massoud answered.

  “I run second watch in communications, so you’ll have the cabin to yourself at least some of the time. I hope you don’t mind sharing with a lowly lieutenant, Commander.”

  Massoud laughed. “I think a first officer on a science ship is about the same rank as a lieutenant on a bandit raider, don’t you? I’m just grateful to be here. I’d sleep in the showers, if I had to.”

  A smile cracked the lieutenant’s professional mask. “We’ll try to do better than that for you. The captain gave orders that you are all to be treated with absolute consideration, but I don’t think that was necessary. We all feel for what you’ve been through.” The lieutenant glanced over Massoud’s shoulder. “Speak of the devil. Here’s the captain now.” Singh came to at
tention crisply, reminding Massoud how relaxed she had become serving on a ship populated by scientists. She, too, came to attention to greet Captain Patel.

  Patel was a tall, graceful woman, with a naturally commanding presence. “I’ll never be a captain,” thought Massoud. “I’m too short.” It was an incongruous thought, given the circumstances, but it pulled her back to the person she had been just four weeks ago—someone who fretted about her career, and nothing more complicated. Captain Patel addressed her.

  “Commander, I trust everything your crew needs is being provided. We will complete bunk assignments shortly. The medical staff tells me the crew of the Constance is in good condition overall. We were expecting some malnutrition, but it seems you knew how to take care of yourselves down there. You all appear to be in reasonable shape. There will be a mental adjustment, of course, but I think we’ll worry about that tomorrow, eh?”

  “Yes, Captain. Thank you for all your kindness. Please thank your crew also. I could say we don’t want to be an imposition but, in fact, we’re delighted to be here and to be causing whatever problems we’re causing.”

  “We can handle it, I’m sure.” The captain allowed the side of her mouth to twitch into a smile. “I wanted to invite both you and Capt. Teloc to dine at my table as a matter of course. I sit at eighteen hundred hours each day. I trust you feel up to joining us tonight?”

  “Yes, thank you. I would be delighted. But please don’t feel obliged to invite me each evening. If you invited every one of my rank, the table would be very crowded.”

  “Nonsense. You are our honored guests. I think we can put aside issues of ship status for the present. Could I ask you to extend my invitation to your captain when he arrives? I understand he has remained on the planet to oversee the exhumation of one of his crew. Very appropriate, but distressing, no doubt. I believe he is Gnostian, so perhaps he will not find the process too difficult. There are advantages to being so cool under the skin.”

  “We’re bringing Garcia’s body home?” Massoud rubbed her forehead. She was not thinking very clearly at present. “Oh, yes, of course we are. I will pass your invitation on to Capt. Teloc, Captain. Which reminds me; I have no way of knowing the time. Very few of us had any technology on us when we went to the escape pods. I was preparing for bed at the time. Your surveillance team took the escape pod slates to recover data. Would it be possible for members of our crew to receive basic technology?”

  Massoud’s body was free of technology. Fleet regulations forbad inserted technology, except for medical reasons. Even identification chips were prohibited, which caused numerous problems when servicemembers needed to conduct business while on a planet.

  “Of course,” responded Capt. Patel, “we brought full replacement kits for your entire crew. We’ll issue technology as needed.”

  With this, the captain took her leave, leaving the cargo bay so gracefully that Massoud wasn’t sure she had taken any steps. Singh guided Massoud to the cabin they were to share; an upper bunk had been installed to accommodate the visitor. Massoud insisted on taking the top bunk, so as to minimally inconvenience her host.

  “Will you be able to climb up, Commander? I heard that you’re recovering from a serious illness. Maybe I should take the top bunk,” suggested Singh.

  “I’m looking forward to getting back to normal, and climbing up this vast and challenging structure is just what I need to do. I’ve recovered from my illness. I just need to recover my strength. Exercise will help.”

  Singh smiled warmly, her military bearing hiding her good humor rather poorly. Massoud was looking forward to getting to know her new cabinmate.

  Once she had changed into her fresh uniform, and had deposited the discreet package that contained the blankets given to her in sickbay, Massoud left the cabin to check on her crew. With the captain absent, she felt duty-bound to be available to them, despite her fatigue. Singh stuck beside her, insisting she was off-duty and that Massoud needed a guide around the ship. There was a definite sense of being cossetted. Massoud hoped it extended to every rescued crewmember and not just herself. As she progressed through the ship, the crew of the Achievement stepped out of her way courteously, making her feel like a fragile doll. She searched out each member of her own crew to ensure they were bunked or situated appropriately. She exchanged encouraging words with them, but such words were unnecessary. Everyone was overflowing with relief and gratitude.

  Singh touched her elbow and whispered. “I’ve just heard. The shuttle is coming in with the remains. Do you want to be there when it arrives?”

  Massoud nodded and passed the word to Yuma and Long, who had been gabbling with excitement beside her. With the news, they quietened and became solemn. Massoud dismissed them with an order. By the time she got to the shuttle bay antechamber, the crew of the Constance was flooding into the compartment.

  These were people who had always been reluctant to adopt the forms and behaviors of the fleet. The military aspects of their profession had been an unwanted accompaniment to their careers as explorers and scientists. Nonetheless, they now mustered themselves into a perfectly aligned honor guard. Massoud inspected them one by one. Each person received some acknowledgment from her—a forlorn smile, a nod, an adjustment to a new uniform. She felt so proud of them. They had endured with dignity. She didn’t have to tell them how she felt. They knew it without words.

  The shuttle docked, and the bay was being re-pressurized. They watched sorrowfully as the safety protocols were completed. The shuttle hatch opened, and the docking bay crew came to attention as the shipping container holding Garcia’s remains floated off the craft, followed by the captain and the shuttle pilot. As the sad cargo entered the antechamber, Massoud called her crew to attention, emotion rattling her voice. She sensed Singh snap into position beside her. The captain followed the floating container with somber dignity. He paused beside Massoud as Garcia’s container passed into the medical storage bay. Massoud dismissed her comrades and they left silently.

  “Has the crew been cared for, Commander?” the captain asked.

  “Yes, sir. The Achievement was ready to receive us. We have all been med-checked and provided with quarters. You should report to the sickbay too, Captain. I’ll show you the way.” She gestured towards the shuttle. “I hope this task was not too, um, onerous?”

  “I will admit it was trying. It was an ugly business, and the smell was...well, let’s move on from that. It is appropriate to return him to his family. Even on Gnost, it is conventional to visit the graves of those we have lost. I can understand the importance of what was done.”

  Massoud heard an edge to his voice that was almost imperceptible. She knew it was time to change topic. After introducing Singh to the captain, they both accompanied her to the sickbay. Massoud’s confidence in her ability to navigate the passageways of the Achievement was ill-founded. She had been too distracted earlier to pay due attention to the layout of the ship. Once at the sickbay, she was surprised to hear the captain ask for the privacy shield during his med-check. Once he disappeared from view, Massoud withdrew, intending to meet with him later.

  After considering when it would be best to tell him about her reportable condition, she decided to wait until morning. Too much had happened today already. She needed time to adjust, and he had just witnessed a harrowing exhumation.

  The following morning, she presented herself at the captain’s temporary quarters—a cabin that was normally occupied by the Achievement’s first officer, Commander Volk. Capt. Teloc had been quartered alone, despite his protests that it was unnecessary. Capt. Patel had insisted. The first officer’s quarters were privacy-screened and would provide a suitable environment for Capt. Teloc to consult confidentially with his crew when necessary. Massoud had smiled at the notion that the crew would approach the captain for counseling. She wondered if this courtesy was an indicator of Captain Patel’s ignorance of Gnostians, or an indicator that she knew them very well. Capt. Teloc had an almost pathological nee
d for seclusion at times, and it was known to be part of his culture.

  On this particular morning, Massoud was glad to know that the ensuing conversation would be private. She took the only seat in the narrow room while the captain remained erect. He waited for her to begin. She was normally good at difficult conversations, believing it best to tackle the topic frankly. She cleared her throat.

  “There was one result of the crew’s medical checks that I asked Dr. Taylor not to share with you. I thought it best to tell you myself.”

  “That is most irregular, Massoud. It is unprofessional of the medical officer to report crew conditions to you rather than me. I would have expected Capt. Patel to run a more disciplined ship.” His tone was free of discernible criticism, even if his words were not.

  “Well, there are extenuating circumstances. I am the crewmember in question, and I have a reportable condition.”

  Massoud imagined that the captain expressed a momentary look of concern.

  “Indeed,” he responded. “What is the nature of your condition?”

  “I’m pregnant.”

  Over the years she had known him, Massoud had often watched the captain pause before speaking. He was not a rash talker and preferred to refine his thoughts before sharing them. It took time to adapt to this trait, but she had come to appreciate it. However, she was confident that the man’s silence, at this juncture, had everything to do with shock and very little to do with rational thought. He stared at her uncomprehendingly.

  She continued, “Dr. Taylor believes that I’m about nine weeks along...”

  “You were pregnant when you left Denison,” he interrupted with uncharacteristic rudeness.

  “That’s just it. When I was on shore leave, I did nothing interesting. I went to my nephews’ school performances, visited a few friends, and spent time with my sister. I wasn’t involved with anyone. I haven’t been involved with anyone for a very long time, except you.”