Relationships

By Ellen C. Lindow

"Good Morning, Mama!" Alex called, bouncing onto the bed.

"Mama, Mama!" Emma echoed.

Alex leaned over and grabbed her arm, roughly pulling her onto the bed. Both children hugged and kissed Helena then crawled across her to fling themselves at John.

"Morning Daddy!"

"Daddy, Daddy, Daddy" Emma chanted. They greeted their father with cheery hugs and kisses.

The bed was much too small to include the two preschoolers and Helena was not only kissed and hugged, but kicked carelessly in the ribs several times. Helena was having a hard time opening her eyes. Her head was pounding like she'd been raving all night and she felt slightly confused. She managed to crack one eye just in time to see Emma's foot waving in the air and she caught it with her hand just before it kicked her in the face. The sudden movement made her dizzy. "Emma, how did you get out of your crib?"

The toddler smiled and rolled over, still parroting her older brother. "Mama, Mama." She gave her mother another hug.

"I helped!" her eager son replied from his perch atop his father's stomach. "She was trapped."

Helena's head was pounding harder and her imagination created all sorts of trouble the two could have gotten into while their parents slept. With Emma ten months old and walking, Alex seemed to decide that she was an acceptable companion. Both believed that Emma could now do everything Alex could. It may not have been the case but it certainly kept their parents on their toes. "Alex, Emma needs to stay in her crib until mommy or daddy get up." Helena said gently, holding her pounding head.

"Why?" Alex asked. It had become his favorite question about two months ago. He asked why about everything cheerfully, incessantly and insistently. Unfortunately, all the knowledge in the universe could not be reduced to the working vocabulary of a two-year-old.

"Because your mother said so," his father growled firmly.

"It's a rule?" Alex asked. Alex understood rules.

"Yes," his father confirmed. "It's a rule. Don't help your sister get out of her crib. Come get us first."

"Okay, Daddy," Alex said stoutly.

"John? Could you take them to breakfast? I have a horrible headache."

"Sure honey. Come on you two. Let's get dressed." He sat up and gathered a child under each arm. Both giggled. "Hey, you're wet," he said to Emma. "I don't allow wet little girls in my bed."

"I'm not wet," Alex offered. "I'm a big boy."

Helena smiled fondly and turned over, the sounds of morning in the Koenig household music to her ears. She drifted back to sleep.
 
 

The next thing she heard was John's voice. "Helena, come on sleepy head. Wake up."

"John. I really don't want breakfast." The thought made her slightly queasy. "I just want to sleep a couple more minutes before duty."

"Honey" John shook her, which set off the pounding in her head again. "First shift started an hour and a half ago. Bob tried to page you but you didn't answer."

She shook her head groggily. "He called me?"

"He finally called me to see if you were all right. What's wrong?"

Helena struggled to sit up, then had to hold her head to stop the pounding. "It's just a headache. I'll talk to Bob about it when I get to work."

"I'll go with you."

"You don't have to," she said, standing up. The pounding grew so bad that she had to grab his shoulder to steady herself.

"I'm going with you." He said more firmly.

"Yeah, all right." She agreed.

Opening her eyes was a struggle, and she silently accepted his help getting dressed. Fortunately, Medical Center had moved up to the surface rooms they inhabited at Breakaway, and John and Helena moved into Helena's old quarters nearby, which were large enough to be divided into small bedrooms for the children and parents. Walking wasn't a problem once she was upright, but John kept his arm protectively around her waist.

Bob was waiting for them when they arrived and ushered them into an examining room. He was very thorough, including blood samples, which he sent to the lab as top priority.

"It's just a headache, Bob." Helena said, leaning back against the chair feeling limp and exhausted.

"It's more than that, Helena," Bob said seriously. "You're blood pressure is dangerously high; and you've never shown any indication of hypertension before-- not even at your last physical, two months ago. John said you were needing more sleep lately, too."

"I've been tired, yes, but the children do keep us pretty busy."

"It's more than that, Helena," John said.

Helena sighed, her head hurt too bad to disagree.

"I don't want to medicate you until I've found the cause. I'll get the test results this afternoon. Why don't you go home and go back to sleep and I'll talk to you at about three this afternoon."

"We'll be back then," John replied, helping Helena up. She didn't protest.

"And I want you to wear a vitals monitor." Bob pulled a wristband out of the cabinet.

John and Helena looked at each other and back at Bob. Helena said softly. "You're that worried?"

"I'm that cautious," Bob corrected, still managing to sound worried. He placed the cuff on her offered wrist. "I can monitor you like this or you can stay here and rest."

"I'll take the cuff," she chose quickly.
 
 

John settled her back in bed and promised to bring her lunch. She didn't think she would sleep again, but in what seemed like no time, John was back, and it was after 1:30. Her head wasn't pounding quite as hard, although she still felt weak and her eyes wouldn't focus properly.

She didn't have much of an appetite, but managed to eat the soup John had brought her. Then they headed for Medical Center together. Bob ushered them into her office and she curled up on the sofa by John, allowing Bob the desk with its computer access.

Bob looked serious, and Helena was growing concerned. She reached for John's hand. He moved closer to her and encompassed her hand in his.

"Helena, according to the test results, you're pregnant." Bob said reluctantly.

"Pregnant!" John said, surprised.

Helena also felt a jolt of surprise. As soon as he said it, she knew it to be true. Her hand moved reflexively to her lower abdomen.

"Bob, you said we couldn't have any more children." John continued.

Bob sighed. "I said it was unlikely. When Helena didn't begin menstruation again after Emma's birth, it appeared that she was beginning menopause.

Helena barely heard the men's conversation as a warm glow spread through her and she bonded with her unborn child. She was going to have another baby! She tuned back into the conversation.

"--higher risk, especially with the high blood pressure," Bob was saying.

"What does that entail?" John asked.

"Well, I'm very concerned about the blood pressure. That's a common effect. Kidney failure, and diabetes can also develop. Plus there's added risk of birth defects. And labor is likely to be more difficult."

"Bob, Emma is less than a year old. Has that year really made that much difference?"

Bob sighed again, "Actually, John. We've treated her other pregnancies as high risk as well. We kept a close eye on her, monitored her daily, controlled her diet and made sure she rested. She was so healthy and handled the last two pregnancies so well, that it was mostly a non-issue. Even her deliveries were very smooth."

"Did you know this?" John turned to Helena.

"Well, yes," she said reluctantly. "I knew Bob and the others were watching me closely. I didn't want to worry you-- you were already worried enough."

"Helena," Bob hated the direction he was about to turn the conversation. "You're exhibiting symptoms of toxemia. That usually doesn't show up until the third trimester. Your sodium count is up, your blood pressure is up. You're retaining fluids. I'm very concerned."

Helena frowned and looked at her hands. She knew they were swollen. Both her rings-- the diamond that Lee had given her, which she wore on her right hand, and the gold wedding band that John had placed on her hand-- were uncomfortably tight.

"Helena," Bob said gently. "You already have two healthy children. It's my opinion that you should not continue this pregnancy."

Helena looked up at him sharply. The warm glowing feeling was replaced by shock. "You can't be serious."

"I am," he said, regret filling his voice. "Helena, we cannot afford to lose you."

"Lose her?" John said, alarm becoming panic. "I thought we were talking about illness."

"Bob," Helena said, holding her husband's hand tightly. "We don't know that there's any reason to think the baby has any problems."

"Wait a minute," John asked. "You think her life could be in danger?"

"That's a possibility. With high blood pressure comes an increased risk of stroke which could cause death or permanent incapacitation." Bob calmly answered John's question. He then replied to Helena. "It will be another month before we can do any genetic testing on the fetus. I don't recommend we wait that long."

Helena looked alarmed. John glanced at her then looked at Bob. "Helena and I need to talk. Will you excuse us?"

Bob nodded, stood and left the office without another word.

John stood too, and paced back and forth. Helena sat on the sofa staring into space, stunned. John stopped on the other side of the room, arms folded. "You should have the abortion."

She looked at him with distant eyes and said nothing.

"Helena, we're not putting your life in danger!"

"What about the baby's life?" she asked softly.

"You take priority!"

She shook her head. "This baby might grow up to do something wonderful-- something that could help all of Alpha. The potential--"

"Is outweighed by your experience and our need for you here."

"That's very flattering, John--"

"I'm not trying to flatter you," he snapped. He strode back across the room to sit beside her. "Aside from the fact that I love you and don't want to endanger you, and that we have two children who need their mother, you're also the Chief Medical Officer here."

He had changed personas in a heartbeat from loving husband to base commander. He stood again and relayed an order. "When Bob comes back in, we'll schedule the abortion right away."

"John, no! Our baby--" Helena stood too, headache forgotten for a moment.

"Helena, you'll do as I say. We can't afford to lose you."

"This is ridiculous! You don't have all the facts!"

"Fact-- your knowledge and experience cannot be replaced. Fact-- the next generation of Alphans is not old enough to benefit from your experience. Fact-- we cannot spare you the amount of sick leave required should you have additional complications. We need to end this now."

"Bob and the other doctors can cover for me. I can handle my job!"

"Helena, you're our CMO. Which of your doctors can handle all that you do if you resign?"

"Resign?"

"Resign. Which one?" he didn't give her a chance to answer. "You are needlessly endangering one of our people and I won't allow that."

She wouldn't have hurt worse if he had slapped her in the face.

He continued, "Let's just get this over quickly and quietly."

"Quietly?" she asked her anger a slow burn in the pit of her stomach. "So you don't have to tell people how you ordered the death of our own baby?"

He turned away from her to pace, but found a wall there. His own office was larger and more fitted to his manner of coping with stress.

"Helena," he turned back to her, his hands out in front of him. "We don't even know if the baby is all right."

"And you're not giving us a chance to find out." She snapped back.

"I'm trying to save your life!" he shouted.

"At the expense of my child's!" she returned at equal volume. She turned her back to him, her voice lower, she added, "You disgust me."

Helena's office was attached to the busiest part of medical center, with a wall of windows overlooking the activity. Caught up in their own struggle, neither realized that Helena's staff had a front row seat for their arguments, even though they couldn't hear a word.

Two nurses were openly watching their boss and their commander whose gestures and body language indicated a disagreement of major proportions. Ben Vincent walked up behind them. "Enjoying the show?"

The nurses jumped and looked embarrassed.

One said, "It's pretty unusual for them to fight like that. This must be something important."

"And probably none of our business," Ben suggested.

"I sure wouldn't want her mad at me like that."

"The Commander's holding his own." The other commented as though this were a spectator sport.

"And if one of them notices you watching?" Ben asked.

The two stirred guiltily and glanced around. Others were busy in the room, although obviously aware of the tension in the office. One nurse prepared to find something else to do, but glanced back to see Helena grab her temples and bend over in pain. She grabbed Ben's arm and gestured, "Something's wrong."

Ben turned in time to see Helena crumple and John stride across the small room to catch her before she fell. "Come on," he ordered the two. "Bring a stretcher."

John had heard her gasp his name as she lost consciousness. He swept her into his arms before she could hit the floor, but had no time to decide whether to deposit her on the sofa or carry her out into the main section of Medical Center before a medical team was bursting into the room. Their argument had come to an abrupt end, the issue unresolved.

Despite the anger he had recently displayed, his only emotion was terror that she might not recover.

Bob Mathias showed up quickly. As they wheeled Helena to a bank of monitors he caught Ben's elbow and spoke quietly and tersely into his ear. Ben pulled back and looked at him in surprise, then nodded, mentally revising the types of treatment he was now willing to try.

Bob turned to a distraught John Koenig and pulled him away from the activity surrounding his wife. "I didn't think it was necessary to mention to you that additional stress would be bad for her." Bob said drily.

"Bob," John replied. "We've got to convince her to have the abortion. Can you go ahead and do it now?"

Bob was shocked, "Without her permission? I'm not prepared to do that, even if you order me to. Psychologically, it could be devastating. Are you aware of what it could do to your relationship?"

"I'd rather have her alive and hating me than dead," he snapped quickly.

"Let's not let it get to that point." Bob suggested.

Ben joined them. "She's stable, and conscious." He told Bob the medicines he had used, all large enough to be filtered by the placenta.

"I'd like to include a blood thinner, but I don't know of any that would be safe for the baby too."

"Consult the pharmacist, and the computer. See what you can come up with, but run it by me first," Bob requested. Ben nodded and moved away.

"Can I see her?" John asked Bob.

"For a minute," Bob agreed. "But don't upset her."

John moved forward to the woman he loved, but when he reached her bedside he received a surprise. She pulled her hand away when he tried to hold it. She wouldn't meet his eyes either.

"Don't touch me, and don't talk me. You have nothing to say that I want to hear."

"Helena--"

She turned her face away from him, and tuned him out. He spun around and left Medical Center in a fury. Helena's hand crept furtively to her belly, sending a silent promise to her unborn child. A tear slid silently down her cheek.

It was two days before Bob would allow her to leave the Medical Center.

Mathias spent most of that time negotiating between the stubborn couple. Helena insisted on waiting a month to see if the baby was all right. John knew he would end up with the same arguments from her then, and was not prepared to risk losing her in the mean time. Bob finally sat the two of them down in their apartment after her release and forced them to talk. Ben had warned him that Helena's office was not private enough.

The pair refused to look at each other. Helena sat on the sofa looking pale and listless. John stood by the window, arms folded stubbornly in front of him. During the past two days John had cared for the children single-handedly-- with a little help from Carolyn Devers and some other friends. He had checked on Helena mid-morning and mid-afternoon by commlock and also spent a few minutes at her bedside before first shift, and shortly after. Helena barely acknowledged his presence and his visits were short. It was quite unlike the normally affectionate couple. They tended to hover nearby each other when one was ill. Koenig's temper flared more often at work, and rumors were flying around the base concerning Helena's illness and John's unusual reaction.

Bob finally began the conversation himself. "I've consulted with Ben, Kendall Edelson in pharmacy, Ed Spencer and Kate Goldberg."

John looked at him sharply. "Kate?"

Helena answered tiredly. "She is the base dietician, John. We'll have to regulate my diet carefully."

John sighed and nodded. He turned to look out the window. He loved the view from here. It soothed him. He was glad the system they had found and stayed in necessitated remaining on the moon.

Bob continued. "Given Helena's current state of health, Ed recommends collecting a placental sample in three weeks. It can tell us the same genetic information about the fetus as the tests we usually run, but can

be conducted a bit earlier."

"There's an elevated risk of miscarriage with that procedure," Helena pointed out.

"Not significantly, under the circumstances," Bob replied sternly.

"Remember, Helena, you're only in your fourth week of pregnancy. You're likely to have a spontaneous abortion anyway."

John looked up sharply at that. Helena's back was to him, and Bob shook his head at John, indicating that he should say nothing. Helena nodded reluctantly.

"Assuming that doesn't happen," Bob continued. "We can then make a determination as to the health of the fetus."

"Baby." Helena corrected him softly.

John turned away from the window and came to stand behind the sofa. He leaned forward, hands braced against the back of the couch. "That's immaterial. She's endangering herself needlessly."

"We think we can control the problems she's having mostly by diet, and a few drugs that will have no effect on the-- baby. She'll have to strictly adhere to the foods Kate prepares for her and the schedule of when to take the medicines and when to eat--"

"I'm willing to do that," Helena interrupted.

"And if any further complications arise we may withdraw our support for the plan."

"And if I don't support it?" Koenig asked quietly.

"We've worked out a feasible plan. It doesn't require your support." Helena snapped.

He turned back to the window in frustration.

"Would you prefer I move out?" Helena asked quietly.

"Move out?!" John exploded, his temper winning over his self-control. "To where? And why? It's not like there's any extra space. And may I remind you that we already have two children that miss you and need your attention?"

Her eyes welled with tears, but they didn't spill over. Again, quietly, she said, "I don't want to leave."

"Good," he growled.

"I suggest you name Bob as my replacement," she offered.

"Well, there's really no need for that, since he has already informed me that neither him or any of the other doctors are any more willing to follow my orders than you are," he said sarcastically, leaning against the window frame with his arms crossed. "But I'll keep that in mind since you seem to be intending to throw your life away."

"John," Bob warned. "This isn't being productive, and Helena you're not helping either. We intend to monitor her condition closely. If the diet and medication don't work, we'll reconsider our position."

Both John and Helena nodded reluctantly.

"The children are in day care right now, and Carolyn will pick them up and feed them before she brings them home. I've also arranged for your dinner to be delivered. Helena, you have to eat everything Kate fixes you-- everything," he emphasized. "And in the portions she fixes."

Helena nodded. She knew that Kate wouldn't feed her anything really awful, but Kate would be aiming for nutritional value and chemical balance, not taste or aesthetics.

"You two need to spend the afternoon trying to make peace."

Bob left the two of them, trusting that their true affection for each other would overcome the rift they had created.

Over the next two weeks, Helena seemed to improve, and the better she felt the more she and John relaxed around each other. Rumors flew around the base, but some of the usual sources were tight-lipped this time. Kate Goldberg personally fixed every meal Helena ate, but deflected any inquiries with great expertise. Medical Center staff were equally close-mouthed.

Everything changed during the third week, however. Helena began having trouble keeping food down. The ever-present headache-- which had waned but never disappeared-- gave way to general nausea and heartburn. By the end of the third week, she could keep nothing down and was again a patient in Medical Center.
 
 

Alan Carter had taken a team down to Loki. Summer was ending and the Alphans were anxious to return to the planet and have a bit of breathing room. He had been away for nearly two months. Before leaving he and Sandra had spoken about pairing off. Alan wanted a family. Sandra was an old friend and they were fond of each other. As their friends began pairing off and joining the Alphan population boom the two had stood on the sidelines, unattached, and watched, neither finding the right partner for one reason or another. Shortly before Alan left for Loki, Sandra confided that she had offered to have a baby for Tony and Maya. She wasn't terribly keen to raise a child-- much less raise one alone. She knew how much Tony wanted to be a father. She thought she was doing them a favor. Tony had been shocked, and a bit offended by the suggestion, even though Sandra had suggested nothing improper. Tony's heart belonged to Maya, and Sandra had no wish to interfere with that. Maya had appeared puzzled by Tony's reaction.

Alan had suggested, almost shyly, in a manner very unlike him, that the two of them should have a child. They got on well together, and Alan would happily take care of all childcare duties. Sandra had agreed to consider the proposal. The two had exchanged emails while Alan was away. Sandra kept him up to date on the latest gossip. Alan had described his adventures on the planet. They both stayed away from personal matters that could be intercepted by others during transmission. Alan was fascinated by Loki, even though he admitted that he preferred space to planet-side, and would be perfectly happy to come home.

Sandra told him of Helena's mysterious illness and the speculation surrounding her and John's odd behavior. The last message she sent mentioned that Helena had again been admitted to Medical Center. Upon returning to Alpha he asked Bill Fraser how Helena was and found that her condition was serious. Alan headed to Medical Center to see her.

The sight of her shocked him. Always fair and slender, she was currently gaunt and ashen with dark circles under her eyes. She had lost weight-- more than looked healthy for her-- and her cheekbones were more pronounced. An IV tube ran from her left arm to the medical monitor in the wall and she also wore a telemetry bracelet to monitor her vitals constantly.

When he tapped softly on the partition she opened her eyes and squinted a bit. "Alan?" she asked uncertainly, her voice soft as if she didn't have the energy to raise it louder.

"Feel up to a visitor?"

"Any time, if it's you," she said with a weak smile. She held out her right hand and he took it, pulling up a chair to sit beside her.

"Why isn't John hovering over you?" Alan asked, well aware of his old friend's habits.

"I'm not exactly his favorite person right now," she said, her voice filled with regret.

"Nonsense, you've always been his favorite person."

A tear slid from the corner of Helena's eye. Alan noticed her chapped lips. "Hey, can I get you a drink?" He wondered how the medical staff could so badly neglect their boss.

She shook her head. "I can't keep it down anyway." She licked her dry lips. "I might be able to stand a piece of ice." She indicated a cup and pitcher beside the bed. The insulated pitcher was packed with ice. He helped her take a small piece.

"What's wrong, Helena?" he asked, increasingly alarmed about his friend's condition.

"I'm pregnant," She said simply. After a pause she added, "Things aren't going well."

"John must be beside himself," Alan said, worried about her himself.

So softly he almost couldn't hear her she said, "He thinks I should have an abortion."

"Oh, Helena," Alan could never imagine Helena agreeing to that, but seeing Helena like this, he could picture John's reaction. Helena's welfare would come first to him.

"I can't, Alan, I just can't!" Tears streamed freely from the corners of her eyes. Alan took a tissue and gently wiped her face. Helena tried to regain her emotional equilibrium again, but it was quite a struggle. "No one understands."

Alan patted her hand.

"You do, don't you Alan?" she asked tearfully.

Alan nodded. "Yeah, I do, I do." He and Helena had talked before about their shared wish for families. John's reluctance had been a source of frustration and great despair for Helena before Alex was born. Alan's own frustration regarding starting a family made him her perfect confidant.

"Will you talk to him?" she asked.

He grinned. "I'll talk to him, Helena, but I don't guarantee he'll listen. Seeing you like this is going to have made him half crazy."

"I know, he's awfully stubborn." She sighed, "I miss him so much."

Alan continued to smile. Helena was pretty stubborn herself, but he wasn't going to point that out right now. He squeezed her hand and gave her a quick peck on the cheek, told her to get some rest, and left.
 
 

Alan headed for Sandra's quarters. First shift had just ended and he was hoping to invite her to dinner. Most of the families ate immediately after shift change, and those who were single or without children generally waited an hour or so for the initial chaos to die down. He and Sandra were old friends and he knew her habits well. She usually meditated after her shift then ate a late dinner. Alan preferred the early crowd.

During his six weeks away Alan had realized that he preferred a livelier, more active life than Sandra did. Sandra was happy with her computers and her meditation and her solitude. In fact, that had been a deciding factor the last time they had broken up. Alan had wanted a companion and Sandra just couldn't keep up. But in order to have a family, Alan was willing to compromise.

She opened the door quickly when she recognized Alan's face on the commlock. There was a faint scent of incense in the air. Alan had no idea how she managed to have incense here, but he'd seen a lot of creative and resourceful things here on Alpha since they left Earth.

She was seated at her computer desk, and she turned and smiled at him. "Welcome home, Alan," she said calmly.

"Thanks." He walked across the sparsely furnished room and kissed the cheek she offered. "Had dinner yet?"

She shook her head. "I prefer to wait until the crowds thin out. "Did you have a good trip?"

"Yeah, I did. It was still a bit hot during the day, but I found this great beach where the sand looks kind of blue. Wait 'til you see it."

"I really had not planned to go to Loki this season. There is not much of a need for my skills there."

"How about a vacation?" Alan asked, wishing she had at least said she missed him. "Or a honeymoon?"

She blushed but shook her head. "I am not very fond of beaches." She straightened slowly, looking up at him as he leaned against her desk. "I have been wanting to talk to you about our--" she hesitated. "Arrangement."

"Engagement?" he offered a better word.

She smiled sadly at him. "You know, we would not be happy, married to each other." Before he could say anything she continued. "While you were gone I went to Ben Vincent about those backaches I'd been having. It's been getting harder and harder to walk much less get any exercise without pain."

Alan nodded. Sandra had told him about the backaches before he left and he recommended that she see Helena. He also volunteered to give her back rubs, but she had turned him down.

"It turns out to be arthritis of the spine and hips and it will continue to grow worse as I age."

She held out her hands, small and strong, with long fingers, the fingers of a piano player, although it had been years since she had used that skill. "It will begin to affect my hands soon, as well as other joints." She delivered this emotionlessly, as if it was happening to someone else, and she didn't try to meet his eyes.

Of all his friends, Alan felt that Sandra had been the most effected by their journey through space. He had barely known her before Breakaway. He preferred girls taller, more extroverted, more active. Plus his province had been readying the Meta probe. He commuted from Alpha to the space dock every day, worked long hours and loved every minute of it. John had been his direct superior, chief of operations for Meta, but based Earthside, poor man. Alan got to do all the fun things.

Sandra had been a data analyst, working in Main Mission. He had seen her in the rec area and the gym, pretty and petite, and always plenty of attentive guys hanging around. Her flirting was always low key and proper, but she seemed to enjoy the attention.

After Breakaway she dated one of his pilots for a while and Paul Morrow, the base's comptroller as well. She let both know up front that she was not interested in an exclusive relationship. Paul was hopeful she would change her mind, and Alan enjoyed flirting with her just to yank Paul's chain a bit. Sandra seemed to understand and cooperated in her low-key, shy manner.

Then Mike died, and Paul died, and Alan got to know her better. He found out that she had been engaged before they left Earth, and planning to marry. He found a lot to admire about her and their friendship had become more-- for a while. Sandra wasn't fond of casual or recreational sex, even in an exclusive relationship. Her interests were more intellectual than his. They returned to being friends without any regrets on either side.

After they parted, Sandra had dated Tony for a short while, and a few others, but she turned increasingly to her work and meditation as her main pastimes. By the time they reached Loki, the camaraderie developed by the other Alphans through shared experiences had passed Sandra by. She kept herself aloof, supportive of Alpha's changes in priority, but on a professional basis. Personally, she seldom related to anyone, and she seemed content with that. They had all been through some bad experiences. Sandra seemed to react by retreating within herself.

Still looking at her hands, Sandra said hesitantly. "Alan, I am not prepared to go through the additional pain of carrying a child. Some days, it is hard enough just to move myself around."

Silence reigned between them as Alan absorbed this information. He wasn't sure what to say. He'd been willing to adapt his own lifestyle to Sandra's to start a family. He'd been more than willing to take on the childcare duties that he knew she didn't want. In fact, although he had offered marriage, Sandra had only spoken of having a child together, avoiding the marriage issue. He thought of Helena and her determined, even foolhardy attempt to have another child. But he knew he would never insist that Sandra, or anyone else, undergo the pain and discomfort of a process they didn't want themselves.

He reached out and took her hand, gently. He remembered his grandmother's swollen knuckles and how tender the joints had been. "I'm sorry, Sahn. I can't say I'm not disappointed, but I understand."

"Thank you, Alan," she said, relieved. "I know how important a family is to you. You deserve-- someone who can make you happy."

He smiled sadly and leaned down to kiss her cheek. Chances of that happening were becoming increasingly less likely, "You want to go get some dinner?"

"No, She shook her head. "I am not hungry yet."

He nodded, knowing it was more likely that she didn't want to be with him right now. He wanted her to know there were no hard feelings. "Another time?"

She smiled, aware of the effort he was making. "I will look forward to it."
 
 

Alan left Sandra's quarters feeling a good deal more disappointed than he had let on. He missed lunch while flying back from Loki and was still hungry despite his emotional turmoil. A part of him was a bit relieved that he and Sandra had never made any kind of official commitment to each other. Another part of him was embarrassed by that relief. If he really loved her, he would stand by her; but he didn't love her and never had and they both knew it. Hands stuffed in his jacket pocket he strode through Alpha's hallways lost in thought, and found himself at the doorway of the main cafeteria. He'd obviously made it there on autopilot.

He opened the door to hear a shriek of anger and disappointment that he knew could only come from Emma Koenig. The shriek became a wail, then a sob. John sat between his two children in a corner of the cafeteria trying to coax Emma to eat. It was late and no other children were in evidence. Emma rubbed her eyes and shook her head in defiance. Alan headed to join them.

"Isn't it kind of late for them?" he asked.

"I got tied up in a meeting and couldn't get away," John said, putting the spoon down tiredly. "Welcome back."

"Glad to be home. I take it you could use some help."

"What gave it away?" John asked dryly.

Alex Koenig beamed at his uncle. "Hi Uncle Alan," he said through the noodles stuffed in his mouth. He looked like a survivor of a bizarre massacre scene with red sauce on his face, in his hair, and up to his elbows.

"Hi sport. I see your Dad's not having any trouble getting you to eat."

Alex grinned, showing more half-chewed noodles.

Emma had obviously refused all contact with food, but had quit crying and was staring up at Alan with wide green eyes. She held out her arms to be picked up. Alan grinned and reached down to lift her out of her high chair. "Come on, Princess help me go get my dinner and then we'll both eat."

John relaxed slightly and managed a bite of his own untouched supper before he turned his attention to his son. Alan and Emma returned to the table and Alan settled her on his lap. He alternated a bite for himself and a bite for her and she was yawning by the time they were through. By that time John had Alex cleaned up to a point where they could walk through the hallway without leaving a trail of tomato sauce.

It was nearly the children's bedtime and John gave each one a bath while Alan entertained the other.

Emma was exhausted and pointing for her bottle waiting on the table while she waited for her turn in the bath. It was a struggle just to keep her awake. Alex arrived in blue Shermeen-flax pajamas clutching his mother's battered copy of Kipling and his teddy bear made from his father's old MIT sweatshirt. He begged for a story while Emma took her bath.

Alan could almost tell the favorite story without the book by now. They were both holding their noses and shouting "My nose! My nose!" when John returned with Emma. She sat on her father's lap, one finger in her

mouth while John brushed her black curls. She watched closely as Alan described the Elephant Child's journey back from the great gray green greasy Limpopo River. The men traded children again and Emma settled into Alan's lap with her bottle while John carried Alex and his bear off to bed.

Emma dropped off to sleep quickly without finishing the bottle and John lifted her from Alan's lap and deposited her in her crib. John returned and poured them each a glass of wine.

"How was Loki?"

"Beautiful. I found a beach that you won't believe. It's incredibly beautiful. Fresh air, wide open spaces--"

"Just what we all need. We're beginning to feel like the old woman who lived in the shoe. I'm ready to send about half the lot down right now."

"Ed Collins says they could begin preparing the ground for crops in another month."

"We've got prefab housing ready for transport for twenty families. We could probably start sending down construction crews next week. Will you be ready to go back?"

"Yeah, if you want. But I know Tony and Maya have mentioned being keen on going down."

"You want to stay up here nearer Sandra?" John asked.

Alan took a sip of wine and shook his head. "That's off. We've both had a change of heart."

"I'm sorry, Alan. I didn't know."

"Well, neither did I until about an hour ago." He gave a soft laugh. "She's right though. It wouldn't work." He changed the subject, "I'll get started scheduling the teams to go down if you'd like."

"That would be a big help. I don't doubt you'll have plenty of volunteers for the construction crew. Eddie Collins can tell you who he wants for the ag teams."

"You got it. You want me to stay with the kids while you go see Helena?"

John leaned forward and rubbed his eyes with his hand. "I don't think she wants to see me. We haven't been on the best of terms lately."

"I saw her this afternoon," Alan said. "She looks pretty ill."

"Did she tell you she's pregnant?"

"She told me."

John put his head in his hands. "Alan, I'm so afraid I'll lose her. I can't make her see how insane this is."

"She said you want her to have an abortion."

"Bob recommended it. When he explained the types of complications we might expect, it terrified me!" John sat back and laughed. "Then I tried to order her to do it. Helena didn't follow orders well before we

were married."

Alan smiled with him, remembering times when John would do his best to protect her and she would stubbornly remain at his side. He felt a flash of envy for his friends' special relationship. "John, what you two have is so rare. Most of us here can't even hope to attain it. Oh, Tony and Maya adore each other and Pat Osgood is so gone on Michelle it clouds his judgement. The rest of us just have to settle for what we can make work." He thought of himself and Sahn. "And sometimes we can't make anything work."

He continued. "Remember when you sent us away in that survival Eagle and we managed to come back?" Alan looked out the window and took another swallow of wine. He'd never admitted this to anyone before. "I know it sounds crazy, but I don't think we would have made it back if Helena hadn't been with us. I've always thought it was you-- you and her-- that brought that ship home somehow."

John stayed quiet. It was something he had always quietly believed himself.

"What you two have is too special. It seems to me that if you support her-- don't fight against her-- it'll make it easier on her, less of a strain." Alan sighed. "Or this could all be complete crap and this wine is stronger than I thought."

"Well, I don't think it's complete crap." John said with a smile. "If she'd only talk to me," he sighed.

"She told me just this afternoon how much she misses you. Just don't try to force her to do something you know she'll never consent to."

"And if I lose her?"

"She's pretty stubborn. If she's decided to have this baby, she's going to do it, no matter what. Make sure she has something to live for afterwards. If nothing else, don't try to talk, just be with her."

John drained his glass and stood. "You don't mind watching the kids for a while?"

"Nah, they were pretty tuckered. I won't hear a peep."

John clapped his hand on Alan's shoulder. "Thanks, Alan. I owe you one."

"Well, if I ever manage to have kids of my own, I'll take you up on that." He hoped that didn't sound as bitter as he felt right now.

Behind him the door opened and closed as John headed to Medical Center to be with his wife. Alan sat and finished his wine and stared out at the forever darkened sky.

The cry from the children's room startled him from a doze. He headed there quickly, hoping one wouldn't wake the other. Emma stood at the end of her crib, one finger in her mouth.

"Hey, Princess, what are you doing awake?" he said softly.

"Balo," She said indistinctly around her finger, pointing to the other room.

"Quiet now, don't wake Alex." Alex lay sprawled on his bed, half atop his bear. Alan picked her up and carried her into the other room.

She reached eloquently for her bottle sitting beside his wineglass. "Balo," she stated more emphatically.

"All right, sweetheart, I get the message." They settled into the chair again and Emma relaxed against his chest, one hand tightly gripping the bottle, the tiny fingers of the other hand gripped his thumb.

He kissed the top of her curly black head. "I sure hope," he wished fervently, "that you never have to go through this kind of grief in a relationship."
 
 

Ellen Lindow

February 13, 1999