Chapter 5

Molly sensed more than heard someone enter Kita’s room. She lifted her head to see the two doctors draped in white lab coats, standing just inside the door. Neither one wore an expression Molly liked. She drew in a breath, wiped drool off the side of her chin, and straightened her achy back. Dr. Polaris’ eyes stayed on Kita, but his hand gestured for Molly to come with them. She rose, glanced over at her mother sleeping on the little sofa, and mouthed, “Her, too?”

Dr. Abraham nodded.

“Mom.” Molly gently touched her mother’s shoulder.

She jerked awake. “Is Kita all right?”

“Yes, the doctors want to see us.” Molly glanced back at the door. They had already stepped out.

“Oh, okay.” Her mother slipped on her canvas loafers, grated her fingers through limp blond hair, and followed Molly.

“Mrs. Jacobsen, Miss Jacobsen,” Dr. Polaris began. “Let’s go where we can sit down.”

The two doctors guided them to an overflow room. Molly and her mother sat on one couch, the two doctors on the adjacent one. The benign walls were bare except for an iComm screen with local news and a running ticker of global news. The grey-green herringbone patterned couches were utilitarian, comfortable enough, but nothing you’d want in your own home. Molly thought of the gabardine information kiosk, it had been a similar hue. This seemed to be a standard color these days.

“We have examined your daughter,” Dr. Polaris continued. “And we have read the medical report that accompanied her from Omicron.”

Molly observed Dr. Abraham’s stoic expression. She sensed something—incongruence. She hated him for who he was, who his father was, and what the project had done to Kita.

Dr. Polaris’ voice commanded Molly’s attention, “As you know, Kita was involved in a Fertility Assistance Project on a distant planet called Omicron. Apparently, this project included surrogacy pregnancies, in which your daughter agreed to participate. The medical report thoroughly documents the process, prenatal care, delivery, and there is a signed Affidavit of Agreement from Kita. Further, it states that Kita delivered a baby, but the child was, regretfully, stillborn.”

He drew in a deep breath as if this statement took all the wind from his lungs and he was required to replenish them with one huge inhale. His wet, red-rimmed eyes met her mom’s, who, in turn, smiled. Molly gritted her teeth. How could her mother buy any of this crap? Dr. Abraham never lowered his eyes and yet didn’t exactly meet Molly’s glare either. She sensed he was uncomfortable. Good!

“It states further that she suffered psychologically from the—” Dr. Polaris pushed out his lips. He chose his words carefully—”unexpected outcome, and...” He glanced at Dr. Abraham. “Well, we believe her level of disappointment affected her deeply. She developed an attachment to a child’s doll in order to cope. The medical staff on Omicron did not have the expertise necessary to treat her, so, in her best interests, they opted to send her home.”

Molly paid close attention to what he said, how he chose his words, and somewhere in between was the whole truth. The elder doctor continued to disclose his diagnosis while Molly’s skepticism continued to build. His eyes moved to Molly’s, then returned to her mom’s. Was he looking for understanding or agreement ... or compliance? Molly felt none of these, except growing anger. It was not like Kita to be so weak-minded. This was something entirely different.

Her mother laid a gentle hand on Molly’s vibrating leg. A dull ache knotted in Molly’s calf muscle. How long had she been bouncing her leg? She stretched out and crossed her ankles and arms. If she was interrogating herself right now, she’d note that she was closed off from accepting Dr. Polaris’s discussion. Surely he wasn’t fooled either.

Ignoring the taste of blood in her mouth, she gnawed on the inside of her left cheek. It helped her keep her trap shut while she listened to this bogus report. At least gnawing on her cheek didn’t agitate her mother.

“Now, Dr. Abraham and I have examined Kita. We’ve run a complete lab profile on her, and we find that she does, indeed exhibit physical evidence of being pregnant and delivering. There are some discrepancies in the lab reports, but we feel, in time, this too will be explained.” He glanced at Abraham.

Molly noted Abraham’s expression did not alter when Polaris glanced at him. If the psychologist was soliciting confirmation, he was getting neither yae nor nay. Anger percolated in Molly’s gut. She sat up straight and leaned with her elbows on her knees. Her fingers intertwined as if she were praying. This was nonsense. A frozen caveman on the other side of the planet was discovered centuries ago, and his DNA was recovered and exploited for decades afterward. Kita was cryogenically suspended with all the knowledge of modern medicine. There was no way her lab work here, on Earth, would render inaccurate results.

Would it?

Molly stared at Abraham, willing him to look at her. His eyes quickly glanced at her but just as quickly settled back into his neutral space in which he had been focused during this conference. Did his opinion differ? Why didn’t he say anything?

“All we can do at this point,” Dr. Polaris continued, “is help Kita through this grieving process. Physically, she’s fine. Since she was suspended, her body still needs to heal from the birthing experience. But it shouldn’t take more than four to six weeks for that process to be complete.” He paused again.

“The other healing process may take longer”—he looked straight at Molly—”I’m counting on your twin connection to be a guide for her recovery, Molly.” His smile was weak and waned quickly.

“All right?” Polaris patted her mother’s hand. She touched tissue to tears and forced an appreciative smile for the doctor.

Molly seethed. She hated her mother’s compliant attitude. Heat rose in her face. Her lips pressed down into a frown. She turned all her rage on the younger doctor. “And what do you say, Dr. Abraham?”

He turned a cool glare toward Molly. “I—I concur with Dr. Polaris.” He looked down at the razor-sharp edge of his pressed pants and picked at a nonexistent speck on the crease.

Molly jumped to her feet. “This is waste material, and you both know it! What really happened to my sister?”

“Molly, please!” Her mother reached for her arm but missed.

“Mom, this is a line of ... crap.” Molly softened her tone toward her mother.

“Officer. Jacobsen.” Dr. Polaris stood. Dr. Abraham followed his lead. “Please settle down! I told you earlier at the transportation station. Your sister is going to need your connection. I meant that sincerely.”

“Because you don’t mean any of this, sincerely. Do you, Dr. Polaris?” Molly retorted.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying.” He swallowed and looked down as if he were searching the ground for something. His hand worried that spot on the back of his head. “The medical files are very thoroughly documented—”

“But you said yourself that the lab work here was inconsistent!” Molly pointed toward Kita’s room without taking her eyes off Dr. Abraham. “She’s still lactating for goodness’ sake!”

She knew she was shouting. Her mother shivered. Security would probably be called in to corral the crazy woman in the overflow room.

“ ... And I explained how that could be,” Dr. Polaris said with a much calmer voice.

“You’re telling me that a woman can lactate two weeks after a stillborn birth? Seriously?” She stared at the inexpressive junior doctor. Why didn’t he say anything?

“Mrs. Jacobsen, please.” Dr. Polaris sought her mother’s assistance.