Europa

by Robert Mills

  “Mum has never wanted to talk about you and her breaking up,” said Charlet. “Richmond and I know that you had an affair, but we never knew who with.”

  “I suppose there’s nothing to stop me telling you now; I can’t see what harm it would do. It was with your Aunty Liv.”

  Her eyes widened and she swallowed hard. “That explains a lot,” she said. She thought for a few moments then added, “Does that mean that you’re Graydon’s father?”

  “Yes.”

  “I was always very fond of him when he was little, but I didn’t realise he was my brother, well, half-brother. I suppose the truth is I’ve always behaved as if I was his big sister. Does he know?”

  “No.”

  “Do you think Aunty Liv will tell him now that Marvin’s dead?”

  “I don’t know. Somehow I don’t think so; she’s been telling him that Marvin was his father since he was small. It would be difficult to tell him something different now.”

  “I see what you mean. Do you mind the fact that he doesn’t know?”

  “Yes I do.” I was surprised that I’d said this without a moment’s hesitation. “I deeply regret that I can’t acknowledge him as my son and that I’ve been excluded from his upbringing. It was difficult to cope with when he was born and it’s no easier now.”

  Charlet sighed. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I had no idea about any of this. It’s a shame you and I haven’t had more time to talk over the years. I suppose we’ve just been too busy.”

  “I’m not sure I would have felt able to talk about all this when Marvin was alive,” I said.

  In the evening I went to dinner with Richmond and his wife. Zara was on her best behaviour and I enjoyed spending time with my grandson. Richmond once again encouraged me to move back to Europa and his wife sat stony-faced as he spoke, but said nothing. Saturday was spent with Charlet and her family, and on Sunday morning I boarded the Jovian Shuttle for the journey home.

  Back on Callisto my life returned to normal. From time to time I thought about Liv but, despite the feelings that seeing her had aroused in me, I told myself that I would almost certainly never see her again. On the positive side, my meeting with Meena had gone some way to make me feel less guilty about our divorce and my meeting with Liv had reassured me that she and my younger son were doing well. I resumed the normal pattern of my existence with surprising ease.

  Chapter Thirty

  Gradually as the weeks passed I began to notice that I tired more easily than before and that my arms and legs seemed weak. Eventually I decided that I should see a doctor. My local physician was uncertain what was wrong with me and referred me to the neurology department at the University of Callisto Medical Centre. I arrived for my appointment early but didn’t have to wait long before being called. The doctor looked rather young to me, but I imagine this had as much to do with my own age as to her youth. A sign on her desk said, ‘Dr Saga Ericsson’. She invited me to sit down opposite her.

  “So then, Mr Shaw,” she said, while looking at the smartscreen in front of her, “your doctor says you’ve been experiencing weakness in your arms and legs. How long has it been going on for?”

  “A few weeks, I suppose about ten, maybe twelve,” I said.

  “And before that you were in good health?”

  “Yes. I had a skating accident last year, but generally I keep very well.”

  She turned to face me for the first time. “So you’re a skater,” she said. “How long have you been doing it?”

  “About five years, though I’ve only been on the ice once since my accident.”

  She consulted the smartscreen. “Oh yes,” she said, “I see you fractured your femur. I don’t think that’s relevant. Is there anyone in your family who’s had symptoms at all like these?”

  “No.”

  “Do you have any difficulty in breathing?”

  “No.”

  She proceeded to ask me about my general health in more detail and carried out a thorough physical examination. She then took me through to the adjacent room and asked me to put my arm into a machine of some sort that was mounted on a trolley and asked me to open and close my hand a few times.

  When we were back in her consulting room she made some notes on her smartscreen before turning to face me again. “I think you are suffering from what is generally known as ‘cosmic virus myopathy’ or CVM for short,” she said. “It’s a kind of muscle disorder that’s not inherited or genetically determined and has never been seen on Earth. It was first described by colleagues working at this institution. They were subsequently able to show that it’s caused by a previously unknown type of virus. The patients in their series had all spent time on Callisto and most had taken part in microgravity skating. This led them to study ice from Callisto’s surface and they were able to demonstrate viral particles within it. We think that these viruses probably arrived here in comets that crashed into the surface of this moon millions of years ago. They remained in suspended animation until the particles of ice in which they were imbedded were taken into the warm environment of Callisto City, probably on the boots of skaters, or those of other people who spent time on the surface. This temperature change resulted in them being reactivated and some of them found their way into human hosts. Once this mode of infection had been identified, new regulations were brought in to prevent ice being inadvertently brought into the city in this way.”

  I was aware that new regulations had been introduced some months before my accident forbidding us to bring our boots into the clubhouse until they’d been cleaned, but I hadn’t known why this was at the time.

  The doctor continued, “There was also concern about the ice used to produce water, oxygen and hydrogen. Fortunately checks showed that the filtration systems are adequate to prevent viral contamination.”

  All this was very interesting, but I wanted to know how this condition would impact on me, so I interrupted her. “What’s the effect of this viral condition on the patient?”

  “There is loss of power in skeletal muscle all over the body,” she said. “In some forms of muscle disease the onset of weakness is very slow and patients can live for many years with modest disability, but this type isn’t like that. It progresses fairly rapidly in most cases and has a predilection for the muscle of the diaphragm and the chest wall, and so patients experience progressively increasing difficulty in breathing.”

  I felt numb. “Are you sure that this is what I’ve got?” I asked.

  “Your neuromuscular scan shows normal nerve conduction, but poor muscle contraction. That’s because the nerves supplying your muscles work normally, but the muscles themselves can’t respond when stimulated, so it’s definitely a muscle problem. We’ll need to take a small sample from one of your muscles so that we can confirm the presence of viral particles in the cells, but I’d be surprised if we don’t find any.”

  “When can you do that?”

  “We can do it now if you like. It only takes a few moments.”

  She led me back into the adjacent room and over to a machine on a bench by the wall. This time I had to put my forearm into an adjustable trough shaped to accommodate arms of different sizes. A light shone onto an area about halfway along it and I felt a momentary stab of pain. Afterwards all I could see there was a small puncture mark on the skin.

  “Is that it?” I asked.

  “Yes, the biopsy has been taken,” she said. “I’ll send it over to pathology to get it examined and reported.”

  “That was quick. When will you have a result?”

  “Probably tomorrow; I’ll call you when I have the report.”

  The following day Dr Ericsson called me at the office. “The biopsy confirms the clinical diagnosis; it’s definitely CVM,” she said.

  “I see,” I said. “What treatment is available?”

  “We’ll try antiviral therapy. Howeve
r, I must warn you that the effect on this condition is limited. You’re probably aware that most viral illnesses are readily treatable now, using one or other of the many antiviral drugs at our disposal. The problem is that this virus is different in structure from the ones we’re familiar with. A team of researchers is working on developing an agent specifically for this new strain, but it won’t be available in the immediate future.”

  “Should I start treatment right away?”

  “Yes; the good news is that your disease is at a very early stage and that’s when treatment is most effective. I’ll send a prescription to your local pharmacy.”

  I took my medication religiously for a month, but I didn’t really notice any improvement. I arranged a remote review consultation with Dr Ericsson. When her face appeared on my smartscreen, I asked if I should continue the treatment.

  “Not at present,” she said. “There is scope for more antiviral therapy if your symptoms get worse, but the poor response to the initial course suggests that it won’t be effective. Mind you, it’s possible that you would have got worse if you hadn’t had the medication.”

  “I’m certainly no worse,” I said. “What should I do about my work?”

  “Are you still able to do your job? In other words, is the muscle weakness preventing you from functioning in the workplace?”

  “I’m managing at the moment. Mind you, I imagine if things get worse it will become difficult to me to carry out some parts of my current workload.”

  “You must let me know when you get to that stage and I’ll contact your employers.”

  “So you’re pretty certain I will get worse?”

  “Yes, I’m afraid so,” she said. “It’s difficult to say how long it will be before that happens, but sooner or later your condition will deteriorate.”

  “Is this going to kill me in the end?”

  “Probably, though of course you might die of something else before that happens.”

  “How long have I got?”

  “It’s not easy to say in individual cases, but the average life expectancy from diagnosis is about a year, which of course means that some people live longer than that.” And others die sooner, I thought.

  Over the following couple of months I didn’t notice any deterioration in my condition and I even began to wonder if Dr Ericsson had got the diagnosis wrong. Then slowly but inexorably I began to get weaker. At first it was just my limbs, but then I began to notice that I was getting breathless after minor exertion. Before long I was struggling to cope in the office. I called the doctor. She contacted the Jovian Ammonia Corporation and arranged for me to take indefinite sick leave.

  I gave some consideration to my future; it was clear that I was going to have difficulty looking after myself in the not too distant future and there was no one to care for me on Callisto. There were, of course, care homes available for cases such as mine and I was aware that I might end up in one later on when I was worse still. I didn’t think that I was ready for institutional care just yet and the idea of being looked after by strangers didn’t appeal to me. I called Charlet and she said, without hesitation, that I must come back to Europa and she would find me an apartment close to hers. I considered hanging on for a while to sell my property, as it seemed likely that I would not be returning, but Richmond said that he could take care of that and I should come home immediately. I found it a little odd to think of Europa as home, but it was more than thirty years since I’d lived on Earth and my nearest and dearest were all there.

  When I’d arrived on Europa the previous time, I had walked briskly from the Jovian Shuttle to the arrivals hall, but this time I walked slowly and with difficulty, using a stick to support myself. I could see that Charlet was shocked by the change in me when we met.

  “Come on, Dad,” she said, “let’s get you home.” I was installed in the guest bed in the living room of her apartment and somehow just being with my daughter and her family made me feel much better.

  Charlet insisted that I see a neurologist at New Rome Hospital, but the new specialist simply confirmed the diagnosis and prognosis. She viewed further antiviral treatment as futile. Charlet was obviously just as disappointed by this news as I was, but she put on a brave face. She found me a small apartment close to hers and helped me move in.

  “Don’t worry, Dad,” she said, “I’ll make sure you get looked after properly.” She has been as good as her word and I must confess that I’ve enjoyed being part of a family again. Richmond has visited me regularly and I even had one brief visit from Meena.

  A few weeks after I arrived on Europa I had an unexpected visitor. I’d just woken from my now customary afternoon nap when Charlet came into my room.

  “There’s someone here to see you,” she said. “It’s Graydon.”

  “This is a surprise,” I said. “How did he know that I’m here?”

  “I called him yesterday and told him you were ill.” She hesitated for a moment. “I also told him that you’re his real father; I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Do you think that was wise?” I said, gripped by panic. “I’m afraid that Liv will be upset when she finds out.”

  She shrugged. “She may be,” she said, “but I think he deserves to know the truth while he still has the opportunity to get to know you.”

  He was obviously nervous and clearly didn’t know what to say to me at first. I asked him how he was getting on and he told me about his job and his fiancée.

  “Is what Charlet said really true?” he asked.

  “Yes, I’m afraid it is,” I said. “Marvin couldn’t have children and your mother asked me to help her conceive. There wasn’t any other way she could have a baby of her own and she didn’t want to adopt a child.”

  “But why didn’t she tell me about you? She always spoke of Marvin as my father, even after he walked out on us.”

  “You mustn’t blame your mother; she loved Marvin very much and she wanted you to believe that you were his son.”

  He was grim faced. “Perhaps I am his son,” he said. “You can’t be certain I’m not.”

  “It’s true that without paternity tests I can’t be absolutely certain, but I think the available evidence is pretty convincing. Marvin had fair skin and hair, but you’re dark like me.”

  “I get that from Mum.”

  “Yes you are like your mother as well, of course.”

  “I don’t understand why Charlet told me all this. Did you ask her to do it?”

  “No, it was Charlet who decided to tell you. If I’m honest I thought that things should stay the way they were. I only told her the truth when I came to Europa for Marvin’s funeral. She asked me why her mother and I split up and I felt I had to tell her that it was because of my relationship with your mother. It was also the reason why Marvin dissolved our business partnership, so you see he believed I was your father as well.”

  “The fact that you were having a ‘relationship’, as you call it, with my mother was enough to make him kick you out of the company. That doesn’t prove you’re my father.”

  I sighed. “I can only tell you the truth, Graydon,” I said. “I can’t make you believe it if you don’t want to. I don’t want to do anything to upset you; I love you just as I love my other children.” After that there was an awkward silence. At last I said, “Will you discuss this with your mother?”

  “I’m not sure,” he said. “I’ll have to think it over.”

  “You must do whatever you think is right.”

  After he’d gone Charlet came in and sat with me for a while. “He doesn’t believe that I’m his father,” I said.

  “I know, he said the same to me when I told him.”

  I put my arm around her. “Never mind, darling,” I said, “you did what you thought was right but you couldn’t know how he’d react to the truth. We’ll say no more about it.”

 
A few days later Graydon came again; he’d spoken to his mother about our discussion. At first she’d said that it wasn’t true, but he’d pressed her and she had admitted that she was having a sexual relationship with me at the time that he was conceived. It was clear that he now believed what Charlet and I had told him.

  “I wish I’d known earlier,” he said. “Perhaps then you and Mum could have got together when she broke up with Dad, I mean Marvin. The truth is I don’t know what to call him anymore.”

  “I would have liked that very much,” I said, “but I’m not sure that your mother would have welcomed it.”

  “At least I’d have had the chance to get to know you. Charlet says you’re very sick and may die.”

  “I’m afraid my illness will be fatal in the end, but I don’t know how long I’ve got.”

  “I’d like to visit you again. Would that be alright?”

  “Of course,” I said. He came over to my chair and put his arms round me. It felt so good to be able to embrace him at last, after all the years of longing to do so.

  “There’s someone I’d like you to meet,” he said. “I’ll bring her in; she’s in the kitchen with Charlet.” He left and returned shortly afterwards with a slim fair-haired girl. “This is Mariba,” he said, “and this is my father.”

  Not long afterwards Charlet and Richmond arranged for me to move to another apartment which had been equipped with all the technology needed to support me as my condition deteriorated. Graydon has continued to visit me. We talk, sometimes about the past and sometimes about our likes and dislikes and our interests. He likes to hear me describe what it’s like to go microgravity skating and says he wants to go to Callisto someday and try it. I pointed out that there are a few skating clubs here on Europa, but he said that he’d been told that the need to wear a heavy thermal anti-radiation suit makes it a less enjoyable pastime. Sometimes Mariba comes with him; she’s a charming girl and I think that they’ll be very happy together.