Chapter 5: The Following Day

“Ahhhh!” A man groaned in pain while he stood by one of the medical beds. One arm was braced against another.

“Hold still, Gavril,” Folar’sha told him. Her gentle gray fingers were checking the tendons on the man’s arm and wrist.

It was the following day. The medical bay seemed more crowded than it usually was. Cayetano was currently with Captain Shira. She was in uniform, lying down on a bed as the chief had a tablet and scanner in hand.

Gavril was no stranger to the ship. His appearance made him look like a man born in the former Russia of Earth, pale in complexion, with a prominent chin and short brown hair. He was a muscular titan almost similar to Stone, but he wasn’t as bright, being more gullible and purposely speaking as if he was in the third person.

On the other side of the room was Doctor English, who had already made himself useful in sickbay. His shade-covered face was staring down at a microscope, looking at a set of tissue samples as if he were studying something intently by the office door. Laying down by the office door was his dog. She was resting on her stomach with her eyes almost closed.

“Gavril,” Folar’sha said. “Were you lifting weights again?”

“Gavril must be strong,” he replied to her with his Russian accent. “Strong enough to outlift the Master Sergeant.”

“Well, you pulled your left ligament again. I told you to avoid lifting weights for a couple of days till it fully recovers.”

“Mmmm ... Hmph ... Gavril must be strong. Not going to be weak.”

“Gavril,” Cayetano yelled out, overhearing the conversation. “You’ve been warned twice about this. We told you to go back and forth between cardio and weightlifting. Third time, and I report this to the Master Sergeant.”

“Dah! But, Chief, I wanted to ... umm...” Gavril saw the captain lying on the bed. “Umm ... Aye, Chief.”

“Now, I’ll give you what I gave you before,” Folar’sha said as she walked back into the office. She pulled out two hyposyringes from the closet. Meanwhile, Gavril walked up to the animal lying on the floor.

“What a cute doggy!” Gavril remarked with pride.

The German shepherd’s eyes opened up to see the tall man ready to kneel down next to her.

“Don’t worry, Empusa,” English calmly said to the animal without looking at her. “They’re just not used to animals.”

Folar’sha came out of the office with two syringes. She saw that Gavril was looking down at the dog. She took the man’s injured wrist and applied the applicator needle to it, injecting a small amount of fluid.

“You like her?” she asked the man.

“Yeah,” he replied. “When Gavril worked at ... umm...,” he seemed hesitant in saying it. “Back on Mars, my boss had a dog from Earth. Called a ... Golden Fetcher?”

“Golden Retriever,” English corrected him.

“Yeah, yeah. My boss had this dog, and I really liked him. He was such a good dog. Rocky was his name. My boss was hoping to intimidate his enemies with it, but I just remember playing with him a lot. Boss tended to get upset because of that.”

Shira watched the interaction from a distance as the chief occasionally glanced over at the conversation taking place. Folar’sha pulled out the other vial and began to inject it into Gavril’s arm.

“Ah...,” the man reacted in relief.

“Feel better?” Folar’sha asked him.

“Dah.” He nodded.

“Same thing as before. Pain reliever and a muscle rebuilder. Give yourself a chance to recover, Gavril.”

“Yeah.”

“Why are you pushing yourself so much?” she asked him.

“I want to be as strong as Master Sergent. Back on Mars, Gavril was a man to be feared.” He lifted his chin up with pride. “That’s why the boss wanted me. But ... when your boss is as strong as you, Gavril feels...” He gave a bummed look.

“Awww. Have you tried talking with Stone?”

“Master Sarge? Why?”

“Ask him how he’s in good shape. Work with him.”

“Work with him ... Work out with him?”

“Yes,” Folar’sha gave a smile from her snout. “Maybe he can help you.”

“It would make sense,” English added, stopping his work. “You seem hellbent on pushing yourself hard, but it seems like you don’t go to the main source of your competition. Perhaps you may find that it isn’t a contest or inadequacy you feel.”

“Hmmm ... Emmm,” Gavril was thinking out loud. He began to scratch the back of his neck. “Gavril finds it awkward. Seems weak to ask the person stronger than you on how to be as strong as he.”

“I’m sure that Stone can help you. Maybe you could become gym buddies.”

“Gym buddies? ... Gavril will think about this. Thank you, white-robed man. Thank you, Doctor.”

“Call me Doctor English,” English told him before resuming his work.

Gavril could see the apparent bronze leg of the dog.

“What happened to ... umm?” Gavril asked.

“Empusa,” English answered.

“Empusa. What happened to her leg?”

“An injury, one that I repaired, giving her an ... augmented leg.”

“Can I pet your dog?”

Arf! Empusa barked. She stood up and began to wag her tail.

“You may,” English replied.

Folar’sha watched Gavril kneel down and begin petting the dog. Immediately, Empusa was friendly towards the man, tongue hanging in the air as her ears would push back.

“Yeah, who’s a good doggy?” Gavril said with an affirmative nod. “You don’t let the other dogs tell you that Empusa can’t be stopped because of a metal leg. I can see the fury in those eyes. I bet you tore down many men who tried to attack your master, didn’t you?”

Arf! Gavril gave more pets to her head and backside before giving an affirmative pat on the stomach. The dog seemed quite satisfied with the proud man. He stood up and gave a nod to all three before he headed out of the room.

“Well, Captain,” Cayetano addressed her as her single shark-like eye turned to look at the chief. “I can report that I see no abnormalities with your developing fetus. No signs of the Zilik’s contagion.”

“An apparent observation that’s ultimately irrelevant, Cayetano,” Shira remarked. “My question is, are there any signs of Glensren disease?”

“The disease that affected your eye? No, it’s been contained and rendered inert. It hasn’t spread to any portion of your body.”

“Then that’s all I needed to know.” Shira adjusted her shark-like tail before getting off the bed. She straightened her jumpsuit uniform.

“Captain,” the chief responded. “You come in every five days asking me the same question over and over again about your baby. Didn’t you tell me that the disease you have can’t spread?”

“If the disease can spread, it would have consumed my body long before I ever arrived on this ship. While the disease has been contained, it hasn’t been destroyed. However, its lingering damage is one that Glensren may have overlooked when she used it to attack me. Often, bioweapon experts have a tendency to create weapons, sometimes in haste, and never evaluate the lasting effects until long after their deployment.”

She said it in her typically calm and meticulous self. Yet, even in that, the chief of medical felt the hint of concern. He nodded to her.

“I understand,” he replied. “But I see nothing. Every past scan shows nothing. Your daughter is healthy, Ma’am. I can at least tell you that.”

Shira looked over at Doctor English, noting that he was studying something reasonably close.

“I would like for him to analyze a sample from my eye,” Shira said to the chief. “He may know something that others don’t.”

The chief looked at English as well. While he wasn’t looking, Shira pulled out a tablet from her jumpsuit pocket and began typing something.

“I’ll let him know,” the chief said. He turned back to see what the captain was doing while he pulled out a small hyposyringe. “Do you wish to provide a sample now?”

“Later today. My time is short. Chief, I want you to read this, but not out loud.”

Cayetano took the tablet and began to read it. It consisted of two sentences, one that he wasn’t going to reveal. The chief looked at Doctor English momentarily, noting that Empusa was looking at him. He handed the tablet back to Shira.

“Aye, Ma’am,” Cayetano replied.

“Thank you, Chief,” Shira said. “That’ll be all.”

Shira put the tablet back into her pocket. She was about to walk out when the door opened. Ioren walked in, dressed in her green and red uniform. She saw Shira first, but her attention wasn’t focused on the captain. Her head turned to look at Folar’sha, who stood up to face the new guest. A big smile appeared on the Shal’rein doctor’s face.

“How can I help you, Ioren?” Folar’sha greeted her.

Ioren was about to pull out her tilon when her eyes turned to look at Doctor English. Her tail stiffened a little bit as her feathers rose up.

Shira observed as Ioren didn’t do anything but remain silent. Her focus turned to look at the dog.

Arf! Empusa barked when she looked at Ioren. It was enough to pull Doctor English from his work. His tinted glasses disguised his vision, but he did kink his head toward Ioren’s direction.

“Ioren?” Folar’sha asked. “Is there something I can help you out with?”

Arf! Arf! Empusa barked twice. English turned his head toward Empusa before looking back at Ioren. The Itrean woman’s feathers lowered down a little bit before she relaxed. She finally pulled out her pair of tilons.

“Hmmm ... interesting,” Shira calmly said as she walked past Ioren and out the door. The captain said nothing else as she departed from the room. English’s gaze was on Shira for a little while until she was gone. Then, he sighed before he resumed looking through his microscope. Ioren opened her tilon and began to type.

“Doctor Folar’sha...,” Ioren’s tilon translated. She flexed her fingers and looked away. She seemed troubled.

“What is it?” Folar’sha asked. She walked up and put her large hand on her shoulder. The chief walked up to the group to overhear what they had to say.

“I wish to have children,” Ioren typed on her tilon. She remained somewhat embarrassed to say it before she gathered the courage to face the doctor.

“You do?” Folar’sha asked.

“You want to have children, huh?” Cayetano remarked. “Is everyone catching baby fever on this ship?”

“Says the man that got me pregnant. Ioren, have you spoken to your mate about this?”

Ioren took her clawed fingers and began to tap them to her knees before she resumed typing.

“No, I have not,” Ioren’s tilon translated. “I wish to have children.”

“What changed your mind?” Folar’sha asked.

“I ... I don’t know.”

Ioren seemed skittish. Cayetano had less to say when compared to Folar’sha.

“I wish to have children,” Ioren’s tilon said again. “I want the option to present to my mate.”

The chief nodded. “Of course.”

Folar’sha looked down. Her fin arms were pressed to her side.

“But it’s not going to be easy,” Folar’sha said. She waved to the chief and Ioren to come to a nearby table with a display. The Shal’rein activated the computer before she quickly pulled up Ioren’s medical record. A 3D schematic of Ioren’s body was projected.

“When we tried the surgery for your vocal cords, I looked further into the possibility of your reproductive system,” Folar’sha explained. “The issue is something that happens when the Itrean people intermix with the other clan species.”

“Because I’m Golarren,” Ioren typed.

“Yes ... and no. Being with humans, I’m beginning to dislike that term. You had one parent that was Yutilian, and another that was Aksren. The issue you have is that even if children are born from two different parents, their children are infertile.”

“It’s similar to mules on former Earth,” Cayetano added. “They used to have donkeys and horses, two different animals. They can interbred to produce offspring, which were called mules, which were better than donkeys. However, their chromosomes prevented the ability to conceive.”

“It’s why there were never many people that are like you. But there is another reason, too.”

Ioren did her quick nods.

“We promised that we would keep looking into this. Your body does have ovaries, but your womb is incapable of housing a developing fetus.”

“And, of course,” Cayetano added. “The Itreans just blame incapable genes and leave it as that on why they wouldn’t help anybody like her. But, we’re still looking into possible solutions.”

“We have one idea...,” Folar’sha continued as she pressed a couple of buttons on the table panel. “Even though we couldn’t grow and surgically attach a set of vocal cords, it doesn’t mean that we can use human technology. There was a recent case two years ago where a ... ummm ... what’s his name again?”

“Dr. Ericson.”

“Yes. There was a doctor who managed to install an artificial womb into a robotic body and successfully use it to have a baby.”

“Artificial?” Ioren typed.

“Similar to our augments,” the chief continued. “It’s possible we can try to give a set of artificial vocal cords and an artificial womb at the same time. The problem is that I have no experience in transplanting in an Itrean.”

“I don’t either,” Folar’sha added. “I’m worried about another rejection. I can put the word out for our Captain.”

“The Martian Medical Research is quite advanced and far better than what we can ever achieve,” the chief said. “They can work on you and give you what you want. I’m sure that our Captain would agree to it.”

Ioren seemed to think about it before she typed.

“How long before they can get started?” her tilon translated.

“That’s the problem,” the chief explained. “They can accomplish far more and far quicker than what we can ever do. However, I won’t lie that they can do it instantly. Without the T’rintar clan’s help, achieving it could take years.”

Ioren closed her eyes. Folar’sha briefly put her hand to her shoulder.

“I know...,” Folar’sha said before she pulled her arm away. “I wish I could heal you, Ioren.”

Ioren opened her eyes before she began to type again.

“I can’t leave my mate behind,” her tilon stated. “I can’t leave my Captain behind.”

“Your mate can come with you,” Folar’sha said.

“Ehm...,” the chief cleared his throat. “I know the Master Sergeant enough. He won’t leave the ship ... not now.”

Ioren nodded as she continued. “My mate won’t leave, and I can’t leave his side. I love him.”

“The price of love,” Folar’sha said with care and admiration. “Truly a wonderful mate that you are, Ioren, to make such sacrifices.”

Arf! Empusa barked. It seemed directed at someone. The chief looked at the animal. He saw that Doctor English was looking at the canine as well.

Arf! ... roof. The dog barked and moaned. The chief seemed to notice that the animal made a whine sound. He was about to question the noise she made that was disturbing the scene.

English turned his head and focused on Ioren. For a brief moment, his head looked down. No doubt, he had been hearing everything that was being discussed. He turned to look at Empusa again.

The chief gave a questioning look, but he could note that English was thinking. Finally, there was a hint of a sigh.

“Perhaps I can help you,” English said as he stepped away from the table. He put his hand behind his back, turned, and approached Ioren.

Ioren wasn’t used to seeing a man with dark-tinted glasses. The mask made him appear as a complete stranger in an open crowd. Even the way he composed himself was something of a mystery. But there was more to it...

“You have a solution?” the chief asked him.

“Let’s say that my medical expertise is far greater than you expect,” English explained calmly. “I made sure to learn Itrean physiology to the fullest extent. I also know enough about augment surgery. I can freshen up on Dr. Ericson’s work and create a modified artificial womb and guarantee your ability to reproduce or...” the doctor lifted a gloved hand. “You can receive a set of augmented vocal cords, tuned to the voice that you want to have.”

“You have this ability?” Folar’sha seemed completely surprised.

“Or?” the chief questioned him. “Why did you say ‘or?’”

“Because that is exactly what I meant,” English replied, looking at Ioren. “I can give you a set of vocal cords in the following weeks, or you can have the ability to reproduce in the same allotted time.”

“But you can do both?”

“Or I can choose to do nothing,” English said, seeing his frown. “And don’t try to quote the medical oath to me, Chief. New Olympia assigned me to serve as a Doctor, but I don’t do voluntary surgeries so easily. Miracles are not something to be used with such indulgences that we are to become dependent on it.”

“I don’t see why you can’t do...”

“Chief,” Ioren’s tilon interrupted him. “I’m not here to complain about why I can’t have everything that I’ve sought in my entire life.” She typed as fast as she could. “I am a Golarren, the cursed of my kind. But, I look at everything I find as a gift. The Itreans take things for granted, but I don’t. To me, they are miracles. Doctor English, you can give me one and only one, correct?”

“Yes, that is correct,” English explained. “There is no time limit on this choice, for I will be here when you decide. Also, consider that just because you commit to one option doesn’t mean that the other option will eventually come to you from the actions of others.”

A choice...

It was something that hit Ioren. A doctor from an unknown world. The New Olympians were not without their mysticism. At times, they almost seemed to be more than just human, but something else. However, it still came down to the fact that this person made an offer to her. She could choose to have a voice, the ability to finally speak without the need for a tilon. Her clawed fingers went to her throat. It always seemed to be a part of her, her identity. It was another reason why she was called a “freak” by her own people, for why she wasn’t called perfect by a race of seemingly perfect people.Then, the other choice hit her. The ability to have a child. To her, not having a child was perhaps a convenience to her. Why was she even bothering to entertain such a concept? She needed more answers. Her clawed fingers fell to her tilon. Part of her was shaking.

“Reproduction,” she typed. “Even if I can reproduce, would human DNA work?”

“It should...,” the chief said.

“No, no, that isn’t what she meant,” Folar’sha replied. “She means the fact that she’s mixed. Human DNA therapy injections would allow Stone to create Aksren sperm or Yutilian sperm, but ... not for mixed. The Itreans haven’t gotten that far in their research.”

“Mule...,” Ioren typed.

“Nor would they care at this point,” the chief said, shaking his head. “Damn their prejudice.”

“The choice still stands,” English said. “Both I can guarantee success. I wouldn’t worry about your husband not being able to get you pregnant. I said that you would have the ability to reproduce. Leave that to me.”

“I can’t believe this,” the chief said as he approached the doctor. “You have the ability to just bend all the rules? At first, I thought you were joking around or trying to lead her on some false hope. But you actually believe that you can help her?”

“Without a doubt,” he replied.

“You’re not against this, are you?” Folar’sha asked, looking at the chief.

Cayetano shrugged. “I’m not against anything. It’s Ioren’s decision. I just don’t know how he can do it.”

“I will be here when you make your final decision,” English said. “Choose wisely.”

With that, English turned back and walked back to his table. He leaned forward and looked at his microscope. Empusa seemed satisfied enough that the dog’s head lowered back down on the floor in complete peace. Ioren was about to close up her tilon and head out the door when she stopped.

“Thank you, Doctor,” Ioren typed. She turned to look at Folar’sha and Cayetano before quickly nodding to them.

English didn’t respond or even glance at her. He remained behind in his work. The door opened, and Ioren stepped out.

It had been later that day. Javier was walking down the passageway of the centripetal ring. His attention was on his tablet with various maintenance checks seeking his permission to be assigned. There was so much there that he became distracted.

Boomph ... Javier practically bumped into a towering gray silhouette. He recoiled back.

“Oh!” a familiar voice said.

“Ack,” Javier remarked as he backed up. He looked up to see it was Girsha’lar.

“Ah ... umm ... sorry,” she replied. She gave a hint of a frown. The man could see she was prepared to say something negative but held back after seeing it was him. She turned her head away before she began to walk around him.