Massoud (Massoud Chronicles Book 1)

  “Is it possible that a Terran doctor could help? I don’t want you to go home, but I don’t want you to be unhealthy either. There has to be a better solution. How bad are your symptoms?”

  He sighed and rolled onto his back. “It is not as intense as the myash, but I have an emotional response to everything. Difficult emotions—are they not all difficult? Annoyance, pleasure, anxiety, guilt. I believe I could manage if there was not so much to deal with, but there is a constant barrage of stimuli. I need to be alone, in my own place. This isn’t my ship. I am not at ease here and I do not know these people. They are strangers to me. There are too many of them for me to adjust to all at once.”

  “But you must have been placed among strangers before—when you went to the academy for example.”

  “Yes, but that was a result of my own decision. I was prepared for it. Overall, it was a positive experience. No so now.”

  “Teloc, you are under a massive amount of strain. The loss of the Constance is heartbreaking enough. Capt. Patel told me about the doctor’s accusations. Now you have to deal with those as well. Anyone would lose their mind a little under those circumstances. If you were Terran, you would crack and do something stupid.”

  “Like breaking a man’s ribs because he wanted to sleep with the mother of your child?”

  Elizabeth considered this admission of aberrant behavior with mixed feelings. On one hand, it indicated something was terribly wrong with Teloc—that he was, as Captain Patel suggested, totally out of control. On the other hand, it lit a flicker of hope that he cared for her beyond what was acknowledged.

  “Speck was doing something horrible,” she said at last. “Anyone who caught him would want to stop him and make sure he couldn’t fight back.”

  “I did it out of spite.”

  She took a steadying breath. “Don’t say that to anyone else, Teloc. I know Gnostians don’t lie, but they do remain silent sometimes. This accusation won’t stick. No one will ever criticize you for what you did to Speck.”

  “No Terran would. However, I care, Elizabeth, about how my people will see me. These accusations will reflect on my whole race. I am one of its representatives in Terran society. I am required to hold myself to the highest standards and yet I have disgraced myself and, by corollary, my people.”

  “No, don’t say that. How have you disgraced yourself or your people? You saved your crew. The tactical staff has analyzed what happened on the Constance. You did all the right things. You were exceptionally quick thinking and made the right decisions. You saved us Teloc. You have done nothing but engendered respect for both you, and Gnost, among my people.”

  “You are biased in my favor, Elizabeth. Your words are kind but reflect your ignorance of my society. I have exposed the myash to ridicule. That is the main concern. It is a weakness in our exalted culture that we bury and view with shame. My behavior means the myash will be examined in a public proceeding. It will be discussed, questioned and reviewed in detail under Terran jurisprudence. Your pregnancy will make it the fodder of prurient gossip. I should not have set out on that last voyage. I should have gone into retreat.”

  “And then I would be dead, and all of the Constance’s crew too. It is not like you to be self-centered, Teloc. We needed you—not some staid scientist captain—to save our souls.”

  Teloc smiled ironically. “I am some staid scientist captain, Elizabeth. I am likely the most staid captain in the science fleet, and the science fleet is the most staid part of the Alliance Fleet.”

  “That night, you weren’t staid. You were a man of action, dynamic. And if that was because of the myash, then the myash saved our lives. It’s something to be celebrated, not hidden.”

  “Detzler is right. You do know how to make us see things better. The circumstances I find myself in have not altered, but I feel better for speaking with you, Elizabeth.”

  He turned towards her again and changed the image to three-D. Breathlessly, Elizabeth found herself facing his prone body, his virtual hands reaching out to touch hers, their pixels mingling so that the tips of their fingers melded.

  “Teloc, let me come to you.”

  “No. That will make things more difficult for both of us. I am struggling with this.”

  Elizabeth strained to find a response, wanting to reassure him, wanting to satisfy her own insistent needs which were so very much at odds with his. They stayed facing each other while he moved his hand over the image of her arm in a way that was unbearably intimate. Their eyes were locked on each other.

  She was disturbed by a noise behind her. “Someone’s coming. I’ve got to go. I love you.” She terminated the comm hurriedly.

  Lt. Singh had entered just in time to hear the last few words. She could not have known that it was the first time Elizabeth had said them.

  “Hey Massoud. I didn’t mean to interrupt you,” she grinned. “I didn’t know the baby daddy was on board. I can make myself scarce if you want the cabin for a few hours.”

  “No. It’s not like that between us,” Massoud said, mortified to have been caught in such an exquisitely private moment.

  “Not like what? You’re pregnant. It must be like that.”

  “It was just a brief thing. He’s not interested anymore.”

  Singh looked sympathetic. “But you are. I’m sorry. That must be hard, especially with your hormones.”

  Massoud gave her a quizzical look.

  “You know how your sex drive increases tenfold when you’re pregnant.” Singh waved her hands in little circles for emphasis. Massoud shook her head. “It’s the best part. It’s almost worth getting pregnant again, just for that.”

  “I haven’t experienced that,” Massoud stammered, her face flushing.

  “No? Maybe it’s because you were sick. Though that’s probably a good thing, since your man,” she nodded towards the slate, “isn’t there for you.”

  “He’s going to do what he can—to help with the baby I mean,” Elizabeth retorted.

  “Well I suppose that’s something,” Singh responded, clearly unimpressed.

  Massoud wanted to change the subject from her own paltry relationship. “What does your husband do—so that he’s available to take care of the kids?”

  Singh’s confident shell seemed to dent a little. “Eh, he’s an undertaker.”

  “Oh, that’s...that’s unusual.”

  “The hours are good,” Singh said defensively. “He’s home every day. His boss works with him to make sure he’s free every evening when I’m gone. So, when I’m there, he does a bigger share of evening and night pick-ups to be fair to his colleagues. That part isn’t so great. But overall, it’s a good job. He’s very empathetic and kind. It’s what makes him good at what he does, and it’s why he is a good husband too.”

  “He sounds wonderful,” Massoud said sincerely.

  Singh became pensive. “Hey, Massoud. There’s something I’ve wanted to say to you. You know, I never spread any of those rumors about your pregnancy. I mean, I saw things that made me wonder about you, but I didn’t share them. I wouldn’t do that. I suppose other people saw what I saw and came to the same conclusion.”

  “I did wonder. Thanks for letting me know, Singh. I appreciate that,” Massoud said with relief. She truly liked Singh and wanted no question of integrity to stand in the way of their friendship.

  Singh was in the mood to chat, and Massoud was interested in what she had to say about pregnancy, parenting, working, and pulling it all together. It was a needed distraction. Otherwise she would have fretted about Teloc all night.

  10. Confession

  M assoud had spent much of her adult life with a perilously thin membrane separating her from the vacuum of space. Her existence had been dependent on fragile life support systems. She had been shipwrecked and had survived a harrowing illness with only primitive care. In short, she was intimately acquainted with danger and difficulty. However, a more challenging trial was before her now—telling her big sister that she w
as having a child out of wedlock.

  She was reviewing potential responses to this news while she sat on the city transport that served her sister’s community: Noor would open the door and slam it in her face; Noor would castigate her in the vilest terms and slam the door in her face; Noor would burst into tears of despair and collapse in a heap—maybe getting up momentarily, just to slam the door in her face; Noor would...Noor would be disappointed in her. The rest was superfluous.

  “Well kid,” Elizabeth directed her words to her unborn child, “maybe no-one is going to be happy to see you.” Except me, she thought fiercely.

  A very elderly woman, with youthful eyes that contradicted her paper-thin skin, sat in the adjacent seat, her frail body rocking excessively with the gentle movement of the transport. She swayed towards Elizabeth and asked, “Is it your first dear?” It took Elizabeth a moment to remember that her simple shift dress was tightly stretched over her modest bulge. Although baring your bump was fashionable, her opinion was that the trend was a little too revealing. However, in selecting an outfit that morning, she had been stymied by the limited selection in her civilian wardrobe. At least the adaptive fabric of the dress felt comfortable and supportive around her newly visible belly.

  “Yes, it is,” she answered her travelling companion, as sweetly as she could.

  “Oh, it must be wonderfully exciting for you.”

  “I suppose it has been exciting. I was impregnated by a crazed alien, on a desolate planet, after our spaceship was shot down by genocidal killers.”

  “Well, that sounds so nice, dear.” The old woman patted a transparent hand on Elizabeth’s arm.

  “Parts of it actually were,” Elizabeth said wistfully.

  “Oh, this is my stop. Lovely talking to you. Congratulations, my dear.”

  Just a few uncertain steps later, the woman was on the platform, looking around in a slightly dazed fashion. Elizabeth watched after her with a smile. At least one person was pleased with her pregnancy. As she turned to face forward, she caught the eye of a stolid businessman whose expression bore witness to the suspicion he had of her. She gave him her most wholesome grin in return.

  Reaching her sister’s door, Elizabeth paused, steeling herself for the inevitable. She had not called her sister, as she usually did, from Denison Base as soon as she’d arrived on the planet. She had merely activated her apartment and gone straight home, too heart-weary and too reluctant to do anything else. There was an aching temptation to delay her revelation for yet another day and to run away from the inevitable, but her personality dictated direct action. As a result, she found herself, late morning on the day after her return, standing before a door decorated with disturbingly pretty and innocent flowers. The self-assurance of wholesome virtue was rather intimidating. Elizabeth buzzed for entry with an unsteady press of her finger.

  Noor’s face did not appear on the door screen. Instead the door was flung open and Noor stood there red-faced. “You! Get in here now before the neighbors see you!” She grabbed Elizabeth’s arm and dragged her into the apartment. “Why do you always have to be such a troublemaker? What am I supposed to tell the children—and my husband? I’m a respectable woman. How am I going to explain this at the mosque? And I have to hear it from him!” Noor’s plump hand shot dangerously behind her towards the seated figure of Teloc.

  “Teloc, what in heaven’s name are you doing here?” Elizabeth gasped.

  “He, at least, had the decency to come to me and apologize at the first opportunity. You wait an entire day before letting me know you’re back on the planet. I had to have a stranger come and tell me this.” Noor’s eyes narrowed as they finally reached her sister’s belly. “How pregnant are you? I thought you were only a few weeks along. There is no way to hide this! Absolutely no way to hide this,” Noor despaired.

  “Look, a lot of people know already—probably most of Denison Base, the crew of the Constance definitely, and the Achievement too. Nobody cares Noor. It’s normal. People get pregnant all the time.”

  “Not in our family. Not without being married anyway. You’ve been on Denison too long; you’ve lost your values. This doesn’t happen on Mecca Six.”

  Elizabeth bit her tongue. It definitely did happen on Mecca Six.

  Noor collapsed into an armchair and mopped a stray tear or two with her wide sleeve. Was she more angry or sad? Elizabeth couldn’t tell, but the hiatus in her sister’s tirade gave her a chance to express her own astonishment at Teloc’s presence.

  “Teloc, what are you doing at my sister’s apartment? How did you even know where to find her? Why did you even want to find her?”

  Teloc responded in a measured voice: “You had expressed concern about your sister’s reaction to your pregnancy. I thought that I could ameliorate the situation with a full explanation regarding the circumstances of the conception.”

  A full explanation? Elizabeth’s blood fizzed. “And how is that going for you?” she queried irritably.

  “Considerably better than I had anticipated.”

  “Better! Are you blind?” Elizabeth gestured to her sister. “Look at the state she’s in. You should have let me handle this.”

  “That would not have been appropriate. You are not apprised of all the facts.”

  “I am fully apprised of the facts. I have a perfect recollection of how my child was conceived—very much so! And I am in a better position to share those facts if appropriate with my sister, whom I have known all my life, than someone who looked up her address in the public records and doesn’t understand anything of her belief system. Oh, and what in heavens did you say to upset her so much?”

  “I told her you were pregnant. That was sufficient to cause her distress.”

  “How very not shocking!” Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest to stop them shaking, but nothing could stop her glaring at Teloc.

  “Elizabeth Massoud, there is information, regarding the child’s conception, of which you are not apprised. My assessment was that, since your pregnancy has already been stressful, it would not be responsible for me to divulge any information unnecessary to your wellbeing, except perhaps to your sister who may benefit from it,” Teloc stated.

  “What! What information? Noor?” Elizabeth appealed to her sister, lifting her hands in frustration.

  “Sit down, Elizabeth,” Noor said, rising from her chair and placing her hands on her sister’s shoulders as she ushered Elizabeth towards the sofa on which Teloc sat. Suddenly, Noor’s arms were around her. “Oh, little sister, I’m so glad those Xenos didn’t kill you. I know Dad would have said it was better than this, but I don’t think so.”

  Elizabeth was touched by Noor’s pivot from chastisement to concern and could only quietly respond, “I’m glad too.”

  “Now, both of you stay there and don’t do anything you shouldn’t,” Noor used the tone that effectively glued her own unruly children to the spot. “I’ll speak to the imam and ask him what he thinks. He is very discreet.” With that she left the room; her voice was soon heard speaking respectfully to an unseen image.

  “Aptitude for command appears to be a characteristic of Massoud women,” Teloc remarked drily.

  Elizabeth turned to him. “Teloc, what are you doing here? What did you say to Noor? Why is she speaking to the imam? And why is no one giving me any answers?” Elizabeth was overflowing with exasperation.

  “You were concerned about your sister’s disapproval of your pregnancy, which stems from the fact that you are unwed, a circumstance, which my studies of Meccan culture confirmed, is met with significant disapprobation.”

  Elizabeth stifled a desire to explode at Teloc’s indirect response: “Stop evading!”

  She wanted to shake him, but the reserve that had prevented her from touching him in that last few weeks held fast.

  “The fact of the matter,” he continued, while Elizabeth struggled with her impatience, “is that you were already married to me when the child was conceived.”

  Mom
entary silence was followed by an icy “I beg your pardon”.

  “I can see that this information perturbs you, perhaps I should explain further?”

  “I think that is necessary,” was her guarded response.

  “As you may be aware, interplanetary law recognizes marriage between adult individuals who have consented to the union. However, certain societies have forms of marriage that fall outside those limitations. Gnostian law is very ancient, and a number of active statutes predate the Time of Enlightenment. The statute, to which I will refer, was revised during the Enlightenment but not subsequently updated. It remains in the canon of law, but it is never, to my knowledge, utilized. I became aware of its existence due to a scholarly exercise during my upper school education...”

  His pedantic language did nothing to curb Elizabeth’s annoyance, which was visibly increasing. Although Elizabeth could see he was discomfited, at this moment, she had little regard for his feelings.

  “Teloc!” she yelled.

  “My ancestors were a barbaric people,” he blurted. “It was permissible for a man to bond with a woman without her permission.”

  “Bond?”

  “Bonding is the preferred translation into Standard language, but it is often translated, rather loosely, as marriage.”

  “You married me against my will?”

  “More precisely, without your knowledge—while you slept, on the first night of our sojourn on Delta Alpha Seven B.”

  “Are you mad?”

  “That remains to be determined, but I was certainly mad at the time of our marriage.” He stuttered into silence under Elizabeth’s steely sharp gaze. His body swung slightly away from her. “You may be interested to know that a revision of the law during the Enlightenment limited the duration of such a marriage to ninety days.”

  “Yes, I am very interested to know that.” Elizabeth stared at her captain-lover-husband with unmitigated disbelief. “You are the last man in the galaxy that I would have expected to operate in such a misogynistic manner.” She contemplated Teloc’s bizarre disclosure for a few appalled seconds before asking, “Is this bonding even legal.”