Chapter Six

As soon as she was up to it, she looked over her message file on her personal console. She erased without reading or answering all the replies in her file from nannies and child-care centers. She couldn’t face them without tears. All at once, she felt as if her future had vanished, leaving her adrift with duties and responsibilities, but no reason for performing them. To Susan’s anxious message of love and concern she replied briefly, promising more news later on.

To reply to Gershom was much more difficult. She tried to begin her message several times, and ended up staring into the screen blankly and bursting into tears whenever she attempted to speak. Instead of suppressing her grief, she switched off the unit and allowed herself a good cry. The words came more easily thereafter.

“I keep looking around because I feel like I’ve dropped something. It’s a shock to have the bulge and the weight suddenly vanish from my abdomen, as if I was never pregnant at all. I wake up sometimes wondering if the whole thing wasn’t a long dream that ended with a nightmare. He was company for me, you know, since you couldn’t be here,” Shona confided sadly, thinking of the tiny, still figure she had held only once in her hands. “I talked to him. He was excited when I was excited, playful and active when sometimes I wished he would calm down and go to sleep so I could sleep. The therapist is a nice, sympathetic woman. She encourages me to talk, just talk. I think it’s helping. I feel like I’m running in place here. I wish you were closer to home. I haven’t thanked you yet for your sweet message while I was in the hospital. It was so good to hear your voice, just when I needed it. I’m sorry I sound so low. I’ll get over it soon.” Shona found that her words sounded irresolute, even to her. She forced some gaiety into her voice, and closed the message. “All my love to you. Fly safely. I’ll be waiting to hear from you next. Give my best to the others.”

* * *

Senator Ulsuekke paid her a personal visit expressing her sympathy for Shona’s loss.

“It is no consolation, but you’ll be pleased to know that I and a number of my colleagues are proposing an amendment to the Child Protection Law. With your permission, we’d like to add your name to the list of citizens supporting our effort. I’m very grateful you brought your concerns to my attention. With luck, we may be able to get our bill into committee next session.” The tall woman held out her hands apologetically. “Not that it means the bill will pass with any speed, but we are trying. If you let me have your communication number, I will make sure my secretary informs you whenever there’s movement.”

Shona thanked her, but she had little energy to rejoice at having gotten some action going against the unfair law. What she wouldn’t have given to be still safely carrying her child, even if it meant remaining on Mars for years!

At work, Perry and the others treated her with kindness, providing a comforting shoulder or a sympathetic ear when she needed one.

“If you prefer to do only lab work for a while until you get your strength back, I can arrange it,” Perry offered on her first morning back.

“No, thank you,” Shona said. “I want to keep busy. I need to.”

“Well, there aren’t many ships in the schedule,” the supervisor pointed out frankly. “Fiscal-year-ending is always the slow season. In fact, I’m overstaffed for the next several weeks. You weren’t here last year, but I had eight doctors playing bridge in the locker room for two weeks at the height of the slump. If you wanted to take some time off, you could have it.”

“No!” Shona exclaimed. “That’s the last thing I want. Anything, Perry.”

“If the government program can’t use you, the GLC always can,” offered a burly man who’d been listening quietly to their exchange. The badge on his tunic identified him as a Corporation doctor. He tipped up his bottle of mineral water to drink the last ounce, and put the empty in the case on the floor. “We don’t waste proven talent.”

“We don’t give our employees busy work when there’s nothing legitimate to occupy them,” Perry retorted good-naturedly. “Corporation short of money to claim jump? You have as few transports going out this season as we have, Dr.—er—Crane,” he said, leaning close to read the man’s ID card.

“I know.” The man called Crane shrugged his massive shoulders and allowed a slight smile to crease a face that might otherwise be characterized as humorless. “Who knows what’s going on in the finance department. Can’t blame me for trying to recruit, Dr. Helsper. I hate to see talent go to waste.” He stood up. “Got to go crank the perpetual motion machine. Morning, citizens.”

Perry gave Shona the pick of the assignments that were available, but each lasted only hours over a few days, until the ships lifted. She threw herself into each job with energy, experiencing dread as each came to its inevitable end which would leave her with nothing else to occupy her. She transferred to the chem lab, running tests on biosamples submitted by prospective colonists and doing double-checks on research sent back to Mars by labs on other worlds.

It was horrible, prolonging her tenure here, since there was nothing now to keep her. None of the work she was doing would tax the abilities of a first-year medical student. Only a couple hours after the beginning of her shifts, she was back in the waiting room, passing time with May, Perry, and Dr. Crane. She didn’t really feel needed, and she had too much time to think. Except to await Gershom, who expected to land close to the baby’s original due date, still weeks off. Shona wondered why she was still on Mars at all. She had no need to stay.

Her aunt had called at lunchtime to say that Cole from Animal Control had returned, with another anonymous complaint, this time about Saffie.

“He claimed that neighbor said she was barking all night. I told him I never hear a thing from her,” Aunt Lal said loyally. “She’s a quiet dog. He went away again. I just thought you should know.”

Shona thanked her and hung up. I have got to get off this planet, she thought, feeling threatened by the unknown people who could interfere with her life at their pleasure. It seemed an eternity before Gershom would arrive home. The wait was making her twitch with impatience. Impulsively, she stopped in at the Galactic Government personnel office the next day after work, and requested immediate assignment to a colony project.

“Anything,” she said, “so long as it leaves soon.”

The personnel officer called up her file and reviewed it with a swift glance. “I’ve got one which would be most suited to your skills, Dr. Taylor. The assignment once you make landfall would be one to two years, depending on the colonists’ need. You’d be working with the regularly assigned physician, exobiologist, and botanists. We’ll give you the planetary data from the initial exploration, and you’ll submit a budget for any extra equipment you think you’ll need for the job.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Shona said eagerly. “When do we lift?”

“Ah,” the officer said, running his finger down the length of the file on his screen. “Ten months from tomorrow. Give you plenty of time to arrange things.”

Shona barely kept herself from breaking in and interrupting him. “But I don’t want plenty of time. I want to leave right away.”

The man looked at her suspiciously. Shona hastened to reassure him. “I’ve been planetbound for so long, I’m almost itchy to get out on assignment again.”

The officer squirmed just a little bit against his seat back, and Shona felt sheepish. “Itchy” was probably not the best choice of words, but it passed. He nodded.

“You’d be a good choice for that colony assignment,” he insisted, encouraging her. “The planned site is in heavy jungle. There might be numerous hidden risks you could uncover for them. It’s a tough assignment, but your record shows you’ve done well before under hard circumstances.”

“I’m sorry,” Shona said, cutting him off. “I really want to leave as soon as possible. There’s nothing that’s leaving within three months?”

He eyed her curiously. “No, Doctor. Sometimes we get a spate of departures, and sometimes the Colony Center is completely empty, with no one at all organizing missions. This is just one of those times. Everything that’s going has been filled up for a good while. I don’t show any last minute needs for re-staffing cancellations. Thought I’d get some after that child-care bill was passed, but no one on staff seemed to be affected. Did you hear about it?”

It was the last thing she wanted to be reminded of. Shona felt as if she had been struck a blow square in the solar plexus. Hastily, she stood up and offered the man her hand. “I’ll think about the jungle assignment. Thank you.” She hurried out of the building, trying to hold back tears.

The government was only one of the two powers placing colonies in space, as she’d been reminded by the ubiquitous Dr. Crane only that morning. He had said, “We don’t waste proven talent.” Without hesitation, she hailed a transport, bundled Saffie into it, and directed it to take them to the Corporation headquarters.

Behind her, a husky man dressed in the tunic of a Corporation doctor stepped out of the shadow of the entryway to the Government Employment building. With a smile, he opened the portable comm-unit he kept in his pocket and pressed a key. A humming note indicated that he had made his connection.

“She’s coming,” Wrenn said. He heard a double click, meaning that the message was acknowledged, and to say nothing more. Swiftly, he flicked the unit closed, tucked it into an inner pocket, and joined the throng of pedestrians hurrying down the busy main street.

* * *

“Excuse me,” Shona said to the woman seated behind the huge marble desk in the center of an equally huge and impressive marble reception hall. “I’d like to ask about a job.”

The young woman met her eyes with a pleasant, practiced smile. “What field are you in, please?”

“I’m a doctor,” Shona said, presenting her resume cube. “I’m interested in a colony post of some kind. My specialty is environmental medicine, but I’ll take any off-planet assignment.”

The receptionist gestured her toward a row of chairs against the curved wall, chairs that Shona hadn’t noticed, so well did they blend with the streaked stone paneling. “Please have a seat, and someone from Personnel will see you shortly.”

Shona thanked her and pulled Saffie over to sit down beside her. She was nervous. As a career employee of the government, she never dreamed she’d be sitting here in the offices of the GLC. But it was her last chance—unless she wanted to wait ten more months, and the way things were, she’d go mad first. Three was bearable, until Gershom returned.

“Doctor Taylor?” a man’s voice inquired.

Shona glanced up. A man was standing over her with her resume cube in his hand. He extended the other hand and shook hers warmly. “How do you do? I’m Manfred Mitchell. I’m the chief for this Corporate sector.”

“Oh! How do you do?” Shona responded. “I’m, er, waiting for someone in Personnel.…”

“I’ll be talking to you instead,” the man said, assisting her to her feet. He stood very close to her, looking down into her eyes with friendly warmth. “If you please?”

“Yes, of course.” Under other circumstances, Shona would have been pretty sure he was making a pass at her. Under other circumstances, if she wasn’t happily married, she might have taken him up on it. The man was very handsome. He had wavy black hair swept back over a high forehead with sharply defined temple bones, and deep-set light eyes of an indeterminate shade—were they hazel?—that Shona found intriguing and attractive in a tanned face. She reached down surreptitiously to twitch a wrinkle out of her tunic. He swept a hand toward a suite of posh executive offices Shona could glimpse through the open door.

“May we leave your friend out here?” He smiled at Saffie, who met his eyes curiously.

“She’ll be good,” Shona promised. “Saffie! Stay!” The dog grumbled a little, but settled down with her head on her outstretched forelegs.

“I had a quick look at your record just now, Dr. Taylor. You might be the solution to an emergency situation that has arisen,” Mitchell said. “Call me Manny. May I call you Shona?” His hand cupped the back of her arm as he escorted her in.

“Yes please! What emergency is that?”

“In a moment, Shona. May I offer you something to drink?”

Shona sank into the plump cushions of the armchair he placed before the broad wooden desk, and her feet quickly buried themselves in the thick silky carpeting. Swiftly, she wriggled forward to the front edge of the seat; if she relaxed, she thought she might sink without trace into the furniture and never be seen again. But it seemed a wonderful place to disappear.

The office’s appointments were mostly black basalt and genuine wood. The glorious, golden desk behind which Mitchell seated himself was made of more wood than Shona had seen in any one place on Mars outside of the Arboretum Dome where schoolchildren were taken on field trips. The rest of the decor was done in Earth style, all subtle blues and pine-greens, without a touch of Mars’s iron or rusty red. Imported goods from all over the galaxy ranging from knickknacks to a hefty, patterned enamel vase were placed artfully around the office to draw the eye. There was a strange creature, a flat, furless being with green skin, about a handspan in length, living in a terrarium between the curved windows at Mitchell’s back. Shona stroked the desktop. Its surface was polished to enhance the texture of the close grain. It felt no rougher than the skin of her fingertips.

“What kind of wood is it?” Shona asked in a hushed voice.

“It’s maple. Earth maple.”

“Oh.” The desk and everything else in the office was incredibly expensive and rare. Mitchell, in his elegant outfit and stylish haircut, fit in well with his surroundings.

“I’m curious as to why a sector chief would want to interview me,” Shona said. “You must have hundreds of people coming by to apply for work every day.”

An efficient young man in a plain uniform tunic came in and dispensed hot drinks from the wood-edged hatch at the rear of the office. Shona glanced up at him and smiled her thanks. The executive continued as if they were alone.

“Ah, but rarely does someone who fits a crucial need turn up at such an appropriate time,” Mitchell said. “We’ve been advertising desperately for a specialist in epidemic control, without success. A transport vessel from our colony of Karela is on its way here to Mars. We were afraid we’d have to let it go off empty. And here you turn up on our doorstep, so to speak,” he said with a charming air of self-deprecation, as if the vast marble foyer were a mere plasteel lintel.

“Well, I’m really in environmental medicine,” Shona admitted truthfully. She had a strong desire to please this man, to be accepted by him. Manfred Mitchell, eh? Charisma must be his middle name. Manfred Charisma Mitchell. If he had a job to offer, on top of his charm, she was all aural receptors.

Mitchell had established control of the interview already. Good, he thought. It was what he was known for, why he had become sector chief of Sol Sector itself in his early forties, much younger than most of his counterparts in the other, newer sectors. And he was good at spotting talent. This woman’s resume was impressive for all that it was limited by her youth. She seemed eager for a chance, even pathetically so. He found her artless energy refreshing, and kept watching with appreciation the way her smile enhanced her pretty mouth, not the tight-lipped rosebud of a professional executive but a wide symbol of joy. He wondered what she would say if he told her so, but no, her file said that she was married. If he’d met her socially, that was different. Mitchell was a careful man. The reputation of the Corporation was his first loyalty.

“The Corporation offers a wide range of benefits and the chance for advancement to its employees,” Mitchell began. “Based as we are on a commercial form, our colonies, and hence, our reach out toward the stars, grows faster than the Galactic government’s. We have automatic built-in prosperity, since we’re backed by shareholders”—Mitchell allowed a small smile to wreath his lips—“not taxpayers. When problems arise that our colonists’ own staff can’t handle, such as certain medical emergencies, the benefits clause in their contract entitles them to help from the central office. It is this benefits package that compelled us to advertise for someone in your field. One of our colonies, Karela, has invoked the clause in its contract requesting a specialist. They’re suffering from a fever epidemic. Our specialists tend to be given roving assignments, and there are none close enough to be sent to Karela in time. Mars is, oddly enough, closer than any of their present locations.”

“I’m um, not sure I am what you’re looking for, Mr. Mitchell,” Shona said timidly.

He put her resume cube into his reader and perused the screen. “Manny. Please. I believe your qualifications dovetail nicely with our requirements, Shona. Although you are a trifle light on practical experience.”

“I’m not actually an epidemic specialist,” she repeated, a little louder. He seemed annoyed at being interrupted, and she blanched at his scowl, but kept talking. “I’m an environmental illness specialist.” When Mitchell looked at her blankly, she tried to explain the difference. “If an outbreak of some symptom occurs, I study the local stimuli, take case histories to see if the sufferers have any potentially harmful experiences in common, any common allergies—”

He interrupted her. “So you are a plague doctor?”

“No, sir. Mostly, I do rashes.”

He nodded, thinking deeply. “You’ve never been the sole or senior physician on any mission, have you?”

“No, sir.” Shona held her breath. That was almost certain to be the fact that got her dropped from consideration. Curiously, he seemed pleased.

“You’ve had no professional experience of this kind?”

Shona hesitated. She had other experience in the field of infectious disease, culled during medical school and internship, not to mention having been her doctor father’s daughter, though that kind of experience didn’t show up on a resume, but it was Mitchell’s word, “professional,” which stopped her from mentioning it. It would sound lame to claim she worked in her father’s office for six years as an unpaid apprentice, all of it before the age of fourteen. She bit her tongue, because she really wanted the job. If she was impertinent to this masterful man, the sector chief of the whole shebang, she’d never get it or any other job the Corporation had to offer. She might as well go home and wait for the government colony assignment ten months away. She waited.

“May I ask why you’re so eager to leave Mars?” Mitchell asked blandly. “No legal entanglements, I hope?”

“Er, no,” Shona said. “A personal tragedy.” She left it at that.

Mitchell accepted her silence. He gave her the brilliant smile again, and a tingle swept from the nape of Shona’s neck all the way to her toes. “Good. Not that we don’t have the finest legal firm on Mars on retainer, but we hate to have to use them unless we absolutely need to.”

It was a polite joke, and Shona chuckled appreciatively.

“Our philosophy is simple, Shona. We give the colonists anything they need.” Noticing her skeptical expression, he exclaimed sincerely, “We do, honestly. I know what you’ve heard about us in the news reports, but the reporters are looking at it in the wrong way. They don’t understand the way our business works. We’re not making slaves out of these people. It’s exactly the opposite.” He thumped the desk with his fingertips for emphasis. “Our employees can call upon us for anything in their contracts they want. Each planet has a medical staff; that’s a normal requirement. But they can request financial advisors, even well, interior decorators, whatever becomes necessary to promote the independence of their colony once the contracts have run their course. After that time they are truly their own men, if you’ll excuse the expression, no matter what you’ve heard in the gossip columns. In this case, Karela is reporting sporadic outbreaks of fever. It doesn’t sound that serious, but they want a specialist. That’s where you come in.” He leaned over his desk conspiratorially. “We’re sending you to help them.”

That was the first intimation that Shona had won the job, and she was thrilled. She tried to contain her excitement but the man watched her with a twinkle in his eyes. “Yes, Doctor. You’re working for me now. I think we’ll get along very well. Welcome to the Corporation. We’re proud to have you.” He reached out for her hand and squeezed it warmly.

Shona’s eyes shone, but practical matters forced her to speak up, too. “Thank you, sir. I’ll need to know what I’ll be earning on this job, and what other benefits the Corporation offers.”

“The receptionist will give you a disk listing all the standard benefits, and I’ll be happy to answer any questions you might have about them. What are you making on your present job?” Shona told him, and he nodded. “What if we started you at thirty percent above your current base rate, with bonuses and hazard pay, for a three-year contract, to be renewed at the consent of both parties?”

“It sounds wonderful,” Shona said, delighted. “When does the ship leave?”

“It’s on its way to Mars now. You’ll be traveling on one of our supply transports that’ll stop at Karela. It’ll land here between a month and two months from now, and lift as soon as we’ve got you aboard.”

Shona stopped, uncertain. “Sir, my husband is coming here to Mars to see me. He lands in eight weeks. I don’t want to leave before he comes.”

“We’ll do what we can,” Mitchell replied, his face bland but his eyes watchful. “Please keep in mind that this is an emergency. The ship can’t wait.”

Shona bit her lip. The longer the transport ship was delayed, the better the chances of Gershom’s reaching Mars before she had to leave. She wondered if she ought to turn down the assignment and paused, torn. As much as she missed Gershom, there was still the huge debt remaining on the Sibyl to consider. Gershom would understand, but he’d be as disappointed as she was. She cringed mentally at the thought of another six months without seeing him. She needed him. “All right,” she said.

A small grin lifted one side of Mitchell’s mouth. “We won’t forget about you in the interim, I assure you. We’ll be keeping you very busy. Let Ms. Tagerdin give you the schedule for interviews and tests.” He stood up, a cue for Shona to do the same.

“One more thing, sir,” Shona said, rising with some difficulty from the deep, soft chair. “Perhaps I should have mentioned this before. I have a team of animals I brought with me on my assignments as a government physician. They’re bred for certain tasks to assist me in my work. Saffie, out there in the foyer, is a vaccine dog. The others are similarly specialized. I want to take them with me when I go to Karela. They could be of great use to me.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Mitchell acknowledged noncommittally. “You shouldn’t really need them for this assignment, Shona. I don’t know if that’s possible.”

She felt her face go red, and made her voice a touch more adamant. “I’m afraid I’ll have to insist. I can’t go if I have to leave them behind. I can’t leave them with my family; there isn’t room. I’m the one who’s responsible for them. Saffie alone can help me pin down the cure for an illness almost faster than a computer.”

Mitchell raised his eyebrows in surprise at the young woman’s defense of her “team,” and considered the matter. “Very well, then, Shona. You win. They can accompany you. The Corporation is getting a bargain, a team for the price of one employee.”

“Thank you,” Shona almost crowed.

The executive held out a hand and clasped hers warmly. “Very nice to meet you, Shona. Please keep in touch and tell me how you get on. I’ll see you out.”

Jubilant, Shona sailed out of the office just ahead of Mitchell. She felt as if she could dance upside down on the roof of the dome. An older man strode toward them. His hair and his eyebrows were crisp silver, and his face showed deep lines running between nose and jaw, but his eyes were sharp. He was dressed no differently than Mitchell, but an air of command and world-weariness set him on a higher level than the sector chief. It was hard to guess how high. Shona was impressed when the younger executive stopped beside her and looked expectantly at the senior.

“Good afternoon, sir,” Mitchell said respectfully.

Verdadero glanced up as if he had only just noticed them. “Ah, Manfred. I was looking for you. And who is this charming lady?”

“May I introduce Mr. Verdadero, Shona. He is the Global Management Coordinator. My boss. Sir, this is Dr. Shona Taylor, who has joined us today.”

“Ah!” The older man took her hand briefly and squeezed it. His hand was dry but very strong. “A pleasure. Happy to have you with us, Doctor.”

“Thank you, sir,” Shona said.

“You’ll enjoy working with Manfred here. He’s the best man I’ve got, my good right hand. It’s good to have an employee so loyal to the company that I can count on him to accomplish any task. Well, then,” Verdadero went on, smiling paternally at Shona, and then returning to Mitchell. “Well, well. Who do you like in the Solar Series, Manfred?”

“Oh, the Sox, sir.”

“The Sox!” Verdadero scoffed. “Not before the domes open, boy. The Lasers, I’m certain. Betty Polowski in Research is giving me even odds on them.”

“I’ll give you three to two on the Sox, sir,” Mitchell offered.

“It’d be taking your money, Manfred.”

“It would be my pleasure to cover your wager, sir,” Mitchell assured him, then turned to the woman at his side. “Shona, it’s been wonderful meeting you. Welcome aboard.”

“Thank you, Mr. Mitchell,” she began, then amended as he shook a playfully warning finger at her, “—er, Manny. And goodbye, sir,” she said to the senior executive, who glanced up at her briefly from the betting slip he was writing out, and nodded to her. Exuberant, Shona slipped out the door and went home to dictate a cheerful letter to Gershom, with all the details.

Perry and the others were sorry to hear that Shona had given notice, but pleased that she had found a job more to her liking.

“We’re going to miss you in a few months when things pick up,” Perry said.

“With any luck,” Shona said, “the next time you see me, I’ll be back for a visit from a new assignment.”

True to Mitchell’s word, the Corporation kept her busy. When Shona left work at the Government Health Center every day, she went straight to the Corporation Building. The Corporation required a physical examination, which the staff graciously delayed so she could heal further from her miscarriage, but there was a barrage of interviews and tests with psychologists she had to take. The personality profile was the same one she had filled out for her current position, nothing new there, but she found it curious that her answers had altered somewhat over four years. She was a little warier and more experienced, unwilling to make a judgment without sufficient data.

She was grateful for the distractions. Her six-week checkup with Dr. Robin was a depressing experience, leaving her disheartened. The obstetrician completed her examination with gentle efficiency, and waited until Shona was dressed and seated in her consulting office before discussing her findings.

“Do you want the good news first or the bad news?” Dr. Robin asked, and continued without waiting for an answer. “You’ve recovered well from the fever and the delivery. Your muscle tone is excellent. I’m glad to see you have been exercising. I’ve been in touch with your therapist. She’s delighted with your progress. In her opinion, you’re adjusting well.”

Shona turned up her hands. “It’s not so much me. I feel as if I’m being carried along by the activities from my new job. I’m off the treadmill and onto something at which I’m really needed again. I haven’t worked so many hours since I got out of medical school, but I have all this energy coming from somewhere. It’s wonderful.”

“I’m proud of you.” Dr. Robin smiled. “You’re really rejoining life. Good for you. You’re healing.”

“I still think about my baby every night,” Shona said softly.

“There’s nothing wrong with that. Do you cry?”

Shona nodded, and felt tears starting in the corners of her eyes. She sniffed and blinked her lashes to dispel them. “My family has been so sympathetic, and Gershom has been more than supportive. He keeps telling me in his messages not to blame myself, but I can’t stop thinking, wondering if there was something I could have done to save him. I think this feeling will follow me around all of my life. Even if I have other children, they won’t heal that place inside me.” Shona frowned as Robin dipped her head and broke eye contact with her. “The bad news?” she asked.

“I don’t think you will be able to carry any more children,” the obstetrician said sadly. She turned her desk screen toward Shona and called up her file. “I warned you about the possibility of endometrial scarring. It is more extensive than I thought. I don’t think it’s possible for you to complete a pregnancy.”

It was a blow for which Shona had been bracing herself, but no preparation could be adequate. She began to cry in earnest. “We wanted to have a big family. If I’d been more careful, none of this would have happened.”

Robin handed her a clean handkerchief across the desktop. Shona shook her head and closed her eyes to be alone with her grief, shutting out the office, and the sight of the scope which displayed corroborating evidence she wished for a moment she was too ignorant to understand. The doctor allowed her a few moments without interrupting her thoughts, then spoke again.

“You can mourn so long as you don’t allow it to hold you back with false guilt. You didn’t infect yourself with listeriosis, did you?”

“No, of course not!” Shona exclaimed, shocked out of self-pity.

Dr. Robin nodded. “Then you aren’t responsible for your infant’s death. Hold onto that. You will continue to heal. You’re already functioning well. This new job of yours sounds terrific. Keep me posted on how you’re doing.”

* * *

Shona acknowledged that the thought of a new mission gave her the impetus to pull herself together and move forward. She studied the extracts on Karela, a jungle planet at the extreme vector of this section of the galaxy on which the Corporation had their plantations of a native vine called trelasi, from which was extracted trelastadin, a drug which swept the body clean of accumulated toxins, allowing it to sustain activity for extended periods. Shona had had personal experience with trelastadin. It was intended mainly for use by long-haul pilots, but college students, particularly those in medical school, frequently made use of it to stay awake for days-long shifts during internship and while cramming for exams.

She might have resorted to it in the following week. Beside her regular job and twice-weekly therapy sessions, she attended a daily exercise session, as well as having to fit in the Corporation’s schedule of orientation meetings.

Shona joined a few dozen other new employees one evening in a brightly lit room that resembled a small lecture hall. The “instructor,” a tall young man with classic good looks and brilliantly white teeth, met each of them at the door with an enthusiastic handshake. He asked Shona’s name as she came in, and called it out to the others.

“Everyone, this is Shona!”

“Hi, Shona!” the others chorused.

“Hi,” she responded pleasantly, wondering what exactly was going on. She found an empty chair on one of the tiers, and sat down to look over the portable pamphlet reader which the young instructor had handed her. The opening graphic on its tiny screen read “Welcome to the Galactic Laboratory Corporation!” It swirled around to form the logo she was used to seeing: the initials GLC in the center of a stylized comet. The recording continued, presenting a history of the Corporation, from its humble beginnings as a chemical company, to its present preeminence spacewide.

The young man greeted the last arrivals, then strode to the stage facing the lowest tier of seats and held up his hands.

“Everyone! Everyone, if you’ll put away your booklets, we can get started. Now, some of you were only hired today, and some of you have been with us for a few weeks. We’re going to get acquainted, and tell you a little bit about ourselves, and learn a little about you. As we go around the room, will you give your name and the department you’ll be working in?”

Shona watched with amusement while the young man, whose name was Dale Wichowicz, urged all the new employees to join him in a cheer for the Corporation.

“Come on. You’ve just joined the best company in the entire universe, not just the galaxy. You’ll have more than co-workers here, you’ll have friends. How about it? GLC! GLC!” he cried, clapping his hands together on the beat.

Only a few half-hearted, half-audible voices joined his happy yell at first but he finally managed to persuade nearly the whole crowd into a frenzy of cheering and shouting. She could tell that he really adored his job. He’d be a hell of a rabble-rouser.

“Shona!” he called suddenly, as if he was able to hear her thoughts. “Come on! I haven’t heard you yet. Give us a cheer.”

She grinned self-consciously and shook her head, unwilling to make a fool of herself before strangers.

“Oh, come on,” he pleaded. “I’ll cheer with you. You won’t have to do it alone. It’ll give us something in common, hollering dumb jingles. If we’re all silly at once, it’ll be okay. All right?”

Shona nodded, giggling. She knew her cheeks had reddened, but so had everyone else’s. “Oh, okay.”

“Good!” Dale said happily. “Everyone! Help Shona! We’re all one happy family now. You support your co-workers, and they’ll support you. Ready? All together now—GLC! GLC!”

Shona started clapping along, and soon her voice was as loud as the others. She shared a glance of suffering amusement with the woman next to her. I can’t believe I’m doing this, she thought. “GLC!”

In a more sedate manner, she went through several interviews with the administration of the medical department, so they could find out what she knew. To her delight, one of her examiners at the final interview was the biologist she had worked with on the Cotton Consortium.

“Taji Chandler! How wonderful to see you!”

“Shona!” He rose and took her hand. “You haven’t changed, my dear.”

“Neither have you, Taji,” she said happily. He was a short, slender man, no taller than Shona herself, with tan skin and liquid black eyes. The childhood acne scars that riddled his handsome face in no way detracted from the long, serious lines of cheekbone and jaw. Chandler turned to the rest of the panel. “No need for me to question her professional history, friends,” he said in the clipped, precise tones that Shona remembered so well. “When Shona and I shipped out together, she was a punk kid with only one field operation under her belt, but she held her own. It was a rough assignment. Other, more senior personnel would have cracked up. What have you been doing, pet?” He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and led her to a seat facing the half-circle of examiners.

She tilted her chin toward the datacard clipped to the board one of the members was holding. “You’ve got it all there, Taji. I don’t think there’s anything left to know about me. But ask away. I’ll tell you anything you want to hear.”

* * *

The interview went on for hours. The examiners turned her memory inside out, exploring her life, her education, and her aspirations with equal thoroughness. By the end of it she was exhausted. When the others pronounced themselves satisfied and had no more questions to ask her, Chandler carried her off to the building commissary for a cup of tea.

“Or something stronger, if you want it,” Chandler said as soon as the door dosed between them and the rest of the panel. “I’d also be delighted to take you to dinner—tomorrow, if you’re free. You deserve a reward for living through that interrogation. You must have answered ten thousand questions.”

“Twenty thousand,” Shona corrected him, blowing out of the corner of her mouth at a few hairs that had escaped from her barrette and drifted across the side of her face. She batted at them uselessly, and wished for a mirror. “But I’ve got a question for you, Taji, if you don’t mind. Why did you quit the Health Department?” Shona asked.

“Money, girl,” Taji said, with only a touch of shame, as he ordered their drinks. “Among other things, of course. They needed an exobiologist with my experience for lab work and teaching right here on Mars. I said they couldn’t buy me away from my job. But they did.” He sighed. “They did. It wasn’t just money they offered me,” he assured her. “I’ve got my own lab, and I can use it for my own projects when I’m not working on an assignment, without anyone breathing down my neck. And I’ve got a ten-year contract. Benefits. Good bonuses. And six weeks’ holiday a year.”

“Sounds wonderful. What’s the catch?”

Chandler shook his head. “No catch, except there’s no ‘iron rice bowl’ in this job. The Corp is swift to throw away anything it doesn’t want or need anymore. They can be pretty ruthless. If your position becomes redundant, when your contract’s up—pfft!” He swept a hand, palm down, across the table. “Out you go. You’d better have something else lined up, because they’ll escort you to the door and take your keys away. I’ve seen it happen a few times.”

Shona laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“But that’s just at the end,” Chandler said hastily. “You’ll like working for the Corp, Shona.”

“I’m sure I will,” Shona said, putting her glass down and giving his arm a friendly squeeze. “See you tomorrow.”

She passed her usual shuttle stop, and kept walking. The high spirits bubbling through her blood were too active to let her sit still on the long ride home.

Saffie met her at the door of her room with an excited bark and an eagerly waving tail, curious for a dog that didn’t make a lot of noise. Shona dropped to her knees beside Saffie and scratched at her neck and ears. “What is it, sweetie? What are you so excited about?”

An amused voice said, “Isn’t that funny? She was quiet all afternoon until just now.”

Shona looked up with a startled intake of breath. “Gershom! You’re home!”

He rose from a chair under the window, smiling a little, his quiet brown eyes watchful. Gershom was a tall man, looming head and shoulders above his wife’s meter and three fifths. The top of her head only came up to the middle of his chest. Gershom was slender and broad-shouldered in the way of any long-time spacer who was used to pulling himself around in zero-gee with his hands, but most of his length was in his legs. Shona had seen him so often in her dreams over the last few months; she hardly believed he could be real now. The soft, straight, dark brown hair, which fell over his eyes if he didn’t brush it away, drifted around the corners of his jaw.

“Hello, love,” he said, grinning. “I landed about two hours ago. Angie told me where you were. She didn’t think you’d be back too late, so I waited in here for you. When they heard about your new job, everyone on the Sibyl decided it was better to skip the last stops and get straight back here to you.” He bent to take her hand, and she went into his arms, clutching him to her like a life preserver. “I didn’t mention it because I wanted to surprise you. I guess I succeeded. Are you all right?”

“Oh, love, I’m fine. I’m so happy you’re here,” she murmured into his shoulder. “It’s the best surprise I could ever have. I’m so glad to see you!” She rested her head against his chest and listened to his heart. His hand came up to cradle her head and play with the hair over her ear, a familiar gesture. She squeezed him closer, and closed her eyes. The thump-thump of his heart was strong and reassuring, like the endless pace of a cardiac pump. That made her think about the emergency-room doctors’ desperate struggle to find a heartbeat in her stillborn child, and then the tears started again. She tried to stifle them, but a sob broke free and everything poured out after it. All the grief she thought she had dealt with came back in a rush. She was still too vulnerable to the memory. “I couldn’t do anything to save him.”

“I know,” Gershom said awkwardly. He patted her but did not let her go, for which Shona was grateful. She kept on talking, telling him everything that had happened to her in a low, rapid voice, and weeping softly until he shifted to press something into her hand. It was a handkerchief. “Here,” he said. “My tunic’s getting wet.”

She chuckled, and dabbed at her face with the cloth.

Chirwl chittered at her from his pouch. “You are all right?”

“I’m fine,” Shona assured him. “I’m happy.”

“Then why do you cry?” he asked. She and Gershom laughed.

“Tell me about the job,” Gershom said when she had dried her tears.

“All right,” Shona said, all at once eager to talk about it. “The people at the Corp have been wonderful. They’re all so enthusiastic. Especially one gung-ho type who made us sing silly songs and chant out loud. Did I tell you about that?”

Gershom shook his head. “Not a word.”

“I was probably too embarrassed to open my mouth again that night,” Shona admitted. “It was an exercise in bonding, but I think it was more traumatic than it needed to be. There’s still no data from Karela on the fever that’s going around. I’ve asked every day. It’s difficult to prepare when I don’t know for what. Strange that they haven’t sent an image of a culture yet. I’d know then what I’d be dealing with. Mr. Mitchell—I mean, Manny—said it doesn’t sound too serious, but he’s fulfilling the Corp’s contractual obligation to them by sending me. This is really out of my field, as I said in my messages, but I’ve been reading journals frantically. That is, between tests. The Corporation panels have been turning me inside out. I didn’t answer so many questions or take so many tests in all of medical school.” Then she paused. “I worried that the transport ship would arrive before you got home. They wouldn’t have allowed me to wait. I thought I might have to refuse to get aboard if you hadn’t landed yet.”

“Why would you do that?” he asked cheerfully. “It’s your career. You couldn’t just sit here and wait for me. I’m a trader. I would have understood if the ship lifted before I got back. There could have been unavoidable delays in our passage. I might have been months getting back here instead of sailing in early. We just skirted a black dwarf Eblich didn’t have on the charts, and the grav pull played hell with the ship’s shields. I’m glad you weren’t already gone, but I wouldn’t have been upset.”

Shona felt a wave of shame. “All I could think of was getting off Mars as soon as possible.”

“Now, that I understand,” Gershom said cheerfully.

“And now that you’re home,” Shona continued, “I don’t want to go at all, and the transport could be here as soon as next week.”

“Don’t take it,” Gershom advised, and she glanced up, startled. “I’ll take you out to your assignment. We’ll get the Corporation to hire us to transport you. I looked up Karela in the charts. I can get you there in a few months, certainly faster than an aged colony transport ship. It’ll give us some time together, and besides, I might sell your new employers something.”

Shona’s spirits lifted to a height they hadn’t been since she found out she was pregnant. She clapped her hands with glee. “Wonderful! What a wonderful idea! I’ll call Mr. Mitchell in the morning,” she added with mischief in her eyes, “and tell him I can save the company a few credits.”

Gershom struck himself in the forehead histrionically in mock dismay. “Is that all my offer means to you? To put myself and my crew out, at our own expense and out of the way of our trade routes, to take you to the other end of the galaxy? Saving your employer some money?”

“Certainly not,” Shona said, turning her face up to his with impish pleasure. Her eyes sparkled and she tightened her arms around Gershom’s waist. “The Sibyl has a few other amenities that no Corporate ship could match. It’ll give us months together, absolutely uninterrupted.”

He leaned down to kiss her, and she responded joyfully. All that time to be alone, roaming through space, away from places that reminded her day after day of the loss of her baby, on her way to a new and exciting assignment. It sounded like paradise, but to be with Gershom was the best part. How she had missed him! Gershom was her anchor, her sounding board, and her playmate. They found joy in other things as much as they did in making love. It was wonderful for her to listen to the soft murmur of his voice, and realize it was right here, not on a tachyon message coming from light-years away; to feel his touch and know it wasn’t a dream.

At the back of her mind, a harsh, guilty feeling began to grate against the warmth she felt, and memories poked and taunted her. This is how you got into trouble in the first place, an inner voice cackled. This is how all your troubles began. The pictures under her eyelids changed quickly: the bright lights in the delivery room, the sea of masked faces, and lastly the cruel, sharp-etched memory of the masked doctor holding out to her the tiny body of her dead son. Before she knew what she was doing, Shona shouted, “No!”

Her cry distracted her husband. “What?” Gershom demanded, almost angry until he saw the fear in her face. “What’s the matter, Shona?”

“If it started again, if I got pregnant …” She looked up into his face, her eyes wide with fear. “If I lost another one, what would I do?”

“The doctor didn’t think you could have any more,” Gershom reminded her with infinite tenderness. “Remember? That’s what you told me.”

“I know it’s ridiculous. It’s probably wishful thinking,” Shona said. “I always pictured us with a lot of children, traveling around between the stars. It’s so hard to get used to the idea that it can’t happen now.”

“I cried, too,” Gershom admitted, and pain crossed his face. “Not just for the baby, but for us. I felt helpless being light-years away from you when we needed each other. I’ve had a lot of time to deal with losing him, and it hurts; it will for a long time. We’ll just have to be satisfied with each other.”

“I never meant it to sound as if you and I weren’t enough of a family,” Shona put in quickly.

“Neither did I.” Gershom smiled down at her, his dark eyes focused on hers. “This is just for us, now and forever. Just the two of us.”

Shona’s eyes fell, and she nodded. The memories faded, and she refused to listen to the cruel inner voice. Gershom walked her toward the bed, his hands stroking her hair, her shoulders, her body. Shona, relaxing, surrendered herself to the soothing, erotic touch, concentrating on how happy he made her feel after so very long a separation. She closed her eyes, and let her head droop against Gershom’s arm as her hands played over the muscles under the thin fabric of his tunic.

“I said just the two of us,” Gershom stated sharply. Startled, Shona’s eyes flew open. “Out!” She looked up in time to see Saffie and Chirwl hastily clambering off the bed, where they’d been watching the loving reunion. “There. That’s better,” he said, sweeping Shona off the floor into his arms. “I’m not making love for an audience.”