Frontier

by Janet Edwards

  “The planet Uranus in Sol System has twenty-seven moons,” said Inessa Jain. “That image shows the smallest of them. Its existence was discovered by an astronomer in the year 1948, and it was named Miranda after a character in a play written by William Shakespeare.”

  “The Tempest,” I said.

  Inessa Jain looked delighted. “You know about the play, Amalie?”

  “Rodrish will have made sure she knows about the play to please you, Mother,” said Bened, in a cynical voice. “Just like he made sure she knew about moon monkeys and almond bushes to please Father.”

  “I’m not giving you another warning, Bened,” said Inessa Jain.

  “I know about The Tempest because Teacher Lomas gave me a text of it at the start of this year,” I said. “It was translated into Language, so I wasn’t sure if the character names were the originals or not, but of course I noticed there was a character called Miranda.”

  I studied the moon for a moment. It had curious surface markings, as if it had been involved in a huge collision at some point.

  “The woman in the portrait next to it is my ancestor,” said Inessa Jain. “Inessa Andreyeva was the first and last human being to stand on the surface of Miranda. After the invention of interstellar portals, no one bothered visiting the moons of Uranus again, but most of my female ancestors were named Miranda and Inessa.”

  She pulled a pained face. “My own mother was called Miranda. She was killed in an accident while our Colony Ten group was on standby to come to this world. We couldn’t break quarantine to go to the funeral, but we decided to call this world Miranda in her honour.”

  “We had a long debate with the Military over it,” said Kellan Jain. “The rules for naming colony worlds say names must be from mythology. We pointed out that Shakespeare wrote his plays many centuries before the invention of interstellar portals, so they surely counted as mythology. It turned out that humanity already had worlds called Oberon and Titania from another Shakespeare play, so we won the argument.”

  “That’s wonderful,” I said.

  “You can see a portrait of my mother over there.” Inessa Jain pointed at a side wall.

  I turned to look at the portrait, moving incautiously fast. My dizziness suddenly increased, a black curtain seemed to swoop down on me, and I toppled sideways.

  Chapter Sixteen

  If I lost consciousness at all, it was only for a second. I was aware of Rodrish catching hold of me to stop me falling, and then the dizziness went away as suddenly as it had come.

  “What happened, Amalie?” Rodrish was still holding my arm, and looking at me in bewilderment. “Did you catch your foot on something?”

  Inessa Jain was studying the stone tiled floor. “I can’t see any uneven tiles.”

  I gave a groan of embarrassment. “There’s nothing wrong with the floor. I just had a sick and giddy moment.”

  “Ah, you’re expecting a child already!” Kellan Jain laughed. “That’s excellent news.”

  I heard a despairing mutter from Bened. “Chaos, those two really did have their campaign planned down to the last detail.”

  Rodrish was frowning. “No, it can’t be a child.”

  “The dizziness is a side effect of my tablets,” I said hastily. “I’ve been having headaches for the last year or two, and Doc Jumi gave me some tablets for the pain. I took two this morning, so ...”

  Kellan Jain interrupted me. “What’s causing these headaches?”

  “Doc Jumi doesn’t know.” I was aware that Rodrish had let go of my arm, and all four of the Jains were staring at me. Rodrish and his parents looked worried, but Bened had a curious expression on his face that I didn’t understand.

  “He doesn’t know!” Inessa Jain repeated my words in tones of disbelief. “Hasn’t he referred you to a specialist?”

  “Doc Jumi is sure it’s nothing serious,” I said. “I’ve got an appointment to see a specialist, but I’m low priority so it isn’t until next February.”

  Kellan Jain interrupted me again. “February! That’s not good enough.”

  “Everyone will expect the wedding to take place next month,” said Inessa Jain.

  “We need to know what’s wrong with Amalie right away,” said Kellan Jain. “Any health issues related to the brain can be extremely serious. I’ll call a few people.”

  He took his lookup from his pocket and strode off. I turned towards Rodrish. He hadn’t said a word since I mentioned the headaches, and now he was avoiding looking at me. Inessa Jain seemed to be avoiding looking at me too, but Bened was watching me closely.

  Endless minutes dragged by, and finally Kellan Jain returned. “We’re taking Amalie to see a specialist right away.”

  “Now?” I shook my head. “But ...”

  “Can I come along?” asked Bened.

  “No, you can’t,” snapped his mother.

  Rodrish gave his brother a look of pure loathing. “Nuke off, Bened!”

  Bened pulled an oddly sympathetic face at me, and walked towards the door.

  Kellan Jain called after him. “Bened!”

  Bened paused, but didn’t turn his head. “Yes, Father?”

  “You will go home and not mention this to anyone, not even your wife or sons,” said Kellan Jain. “Do you understand?”

  “I understand exactly what’s happening here, Father,” said Bened. “Let’s hope that Amalie understands it too.”

  “Amalie, are you well enough to walk to the portal?” asked Kellan Jain. “Getting a hover stretcher would attract a lot of unwelcome attention.”

  “I can walk,” I said.

  We all went outside and down the steps. As we walked towards the portal, Rodrish was at my side, but he was leaving a pointedly large gap between us.

  I thought of the sympathy I’d seen in Bened’s expression, and what he’d said about hoping I understood what was happening here. There was a point in the story about Cinders where she put on a shoe and it fitted perfectly. In my case, the shoe had just fallen off.

  Rodrish Jain’s parents had discovered a possible flaw in me as a daughter-in-law, and were rushing me off to be inspected by an expert. Worse still, Rodrish Jain’s way of dealing with that wasn’t to give me support, but to pretend I didn’t exist.

  I’d thought Rodrish loved me in the same way that I loved him. He’d acted as if he cared for me, he probably did have some genuine feelings for me, but they couldn’t go very deep. He’d worked out that he might have to choose between marrying me and getting the Great House, and was already preparing to discard me.

  We walked in silence towards the portal. Bened had been in the lead, but he stopped and moved to one side to let the rest of us portal first. As Kellan Jain selected our destination, I glanced across at Bened. He waved both hands as if to indicate he was sorry that he couldn’t help.

  “Amalie!”

  Inessa Jain called my name to get my attention, and pointed at the portal. I saw Kellan Jain had already gone through it. Rodrish gave an impatient wave of his arm, gesturing at me to go through next.

  I went through the portal, and found I’d arrived at Jain’s Ford Settlement Central. I should have realized we’d be portalling here as the first step on our journey. I didn’t know where we were going, but you could use the Settlement Central portal to travel to anywhere on the inhabited continent of Miranda.

  My head was throbbing with pain, and another wave of giddiness hit me. As I swayed, a hand took my arm to steady me. I looked down at it in confusion. Was that Rodrish’s hand? I thought it was. Obviously Rodrish and his mother would have followed me through the portal.

  Kellan Jain checked his lookup, turned to the portal controls, and entered a long code. The moment the portal flared to life, he stepped through it. Inessa Jain gestured that I should follow, but I didn’t move. I’d never felt this ill before. I couldn’t think properly, and I kept remembering those nightmare stories I’d heard years ago from Jorge about his medical treatment.

  “I need
to call my mother and tell her what’s happening,” I said.

  “We don’t have time for that,” said Rodrish.

  “I need to call my mother,” I repeated. “I want my mother to be with me when I see the specialist. I’m having trouble thinking. I won’t be able to ask the right questions. I won’t understand what I’m told.”

  “I’ll take care of everything for you, Amalie,” said Inessa Jain.

  “That’s kind of you,” I said, “but I want my own mother with me.”

  “We can’t wait hours for your mother to join us,” said Rodrish, in a voice of strained patience. “We have to get this settled today, because tomorrow morning my parents and I will be leaving for the Founders Day celebrations at Memorial.”

  I hadn’t cried since I was 10 years old, but I was on the edge of tears now. “I’m sorry, but I want my mother to come with me.”

  “Chaos take it,” said Rodrish. “We can’t stand here arguing like this. Shelby Summerhaze has spotted us.”

  I’d just turned my head to watch Shelby Summerhaze striding purposefully towards us, when Rodrish grabbed my arm and dragged me through the portal with him. I went through it sideways, arriving off balance and feeling horribly sick.

  “If you’ll follow me,” said a man’s voice.

  There were agonizing pains behind my eyes, and the world around me was flickering between darkness and light. For a moment or two, Rodrish was almost carrying me, and then I was lowered into a chair. I was sitting down now, definitely sitting down, but I could still feel the world swaying around me.

  “Please wait here,” said the man’s voice. “The doctor will be with you in a moment.”

  I pressed my hands against my face, trying to blot out the flickering lights and force the world to be still.

  “I’m Dr Johal,” said a woman’s voice. “It’s an honour to meet the Jains.”

  “Thank you for arranging to see us at short notice,” said Kellan Jain. “This is Amalie Roche, a friend of the family.”

  Even through the giddiness, I noticed that. I wasn’t Rodrish’s future wife now, but a friend of the family.

  “Amalie, I’ve been checking your medical records,” said Dr Johal. “Have you taken any of your medication today?”

  “Two tablets,” I said.

  “How long ago did you take them?” asked Dr Johal.

  “I don’t know. I can’t think.”

  “Earlier this morning?” she prompted. “Not last night?”

  “This morning.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t give you any more medication until I’ve performed some scans of your brain activity,” she said. “Please lower your hands, but keep your eyes closed during the scanning process. That will take a few minutes, and you may see some odd flashes of light or hear some strange noises.”

  I reluctantly took my hands away from my closed eyes. There was a humming sound so low that I felt it more than heard it, and a lightning flash made me gasp.

  “A couple more minutes, Amalie,” said Dr Johal.

  The humming sound changed note, gradually getting higher pitched, and then abruptly stopped.

  “The scanning process is now complete, Amalie,” said Dr Johal. “I’m giving you an injection that should help your current symptoms.”

  I felt the familiar chill of something being sprayed through the skin on the back of my neck, just like the inoculations I got from Doc Jumi every year. The world gave a last lurch before suddenly stopping moving. I opened my eyes cautiously, and found my vision was back to normal too. I was sitting in the centre of a small room with white walls. Dr Johal must be the elderly woman sitting opposite me, and I guessed the strange device on a stand next to her was the scanner she’d been using.

  “You’re feeling better now?” asked Dr Johal.

  I looked round for Rodrish and his parents, and saw they were sitting on a row of chairs by the wall. Rodrish was staring down at his own feet rather than looking at me. I felt a surge of pure anger, but it wouldn’t be fair to take that anger out on the doctor who was trying to help me.

  I faced Dr Johal again. “Much better, thank you.”

  “Scanning someone while an attack is actually in progress is very revealing, Amalie,” she said. “I saw some very distinctive reactions, but it’s important to make sure a diagnosis is correct, especially one related to the brain. I’d like to check a few details. Your headaches began over a year ago. Was that soon after an unusual journey?”

  I frowned. “I’d spent a day with my family at Memorial.”

  “You’d never been away from your settlement area before?”

  “No.”

  She nodded. “You then started having what your doctor described as moderately painful headaches. He performed basic scans. Those showed no severe issues, so you were referred to me as a low priority patient. When you arrived here, you were obviously in far more than moderate pain.”

  “The last few days have been very stressful,” I said, “so my headaches have been particularly bad.”

  “Have you been making longer or more frequent portal journeys?”

  I frowned again. “Yes. I normally portal directly to local destinations, but lately I’ve been travelling to ... making a journey that involves three portal trips.”

  Dr Johal smiled. “Amalie, I’m happy to tell you that you have an unusual but simple condition known as type 4 portal intolerance. Everyone experiences disorientation on long interstellar portal trips. Some people are especially sensitive. After even short portal trips, they can experience both disorientation and additional symptoms such as headaches, dizziness and nausea.”

  I blinked. I’d thought my headaches were caused by stress, but now I stopped to think about it the portal connection made sense. It explained why I hadn’t had a headache yesterday. That had been a dreadfully stressful day, but I’d only made a single short portal trip in the morning and another in the evening.

  “I believe your condition was aggravated by your first lengthy portal trips to and from Memorial,” said Dr Johal. “After that, short portal trips were sometimes enough to give you headaches. Multiple short portal trips in quick succession would give you more serious symptoms, and the longer portal trip here triggered an especially bad attack.”

  “What’s the treatment for this?” demanded Kellan Jain.

  Dr Johal kept her eyes focused on me. “Fortunately, there’s a simple and completely effective treatment for your condition, Amalie. I’ve already given you the initial medication. I’ll now insert a pellet into your arm. This will slowly release medication over the next three months to perform a permanent correction to your system imbalance. You should have no further problems portalling anywhere on Miranda.”

  “Does this condition have any hereditary implications?” asked Kellan Jain.

  “Research indicates the condition has an environmental rather than hereditary cause,” said Dr Johal. “There’s a higher incidence of portal intolerance syndrome on some worlds than others, farmers are most likely to have it, as are people with a past history of problems on boats or on horseback.”

  “I’ve always been uncomfortable riding horses,” I said eagerly. “I think I’ve only been in a boat once, but ...”

  Kellan Jain’s voice spoke over the top of mine. “What about the condition where babies have to be portalled to Earth to survive? Are Amalie’s children likely to be at increased risk of having that?”

  Dr Johal turned to frown at him. “The condition you’re talking about is an immune system problem where a baby has a fatal reaction to being on any world other than Earth. Portal intolerance is an unrelated reaction to the portal travel itself, and one that everyone will experience on a lengthy enough portal journey.”

  “So there are no hereditary issues at all? Nothing that would raise problems on the stringent Colony Ten medical checks?” asked Kellan Jain.

  Dr Johal faced me again. “Amalie, I’d strongly advise you to wait until your three month treatment is complete before
attempting even the shortest interstellar journey. After that, it should be perfectly safe for you to portal interstellar or cross-sector distances, and there would be absolutely nothing preventing you or your children applying to Colony Ten.”

  “That’s wonderful news,” said Kellan Jain.

  Dr Johal collected a sealed packet from a shelf and ripped it open. “Please roll up your sleeve, Amalie.”

  I tugged up my sleeve, and she sprayed something into my arm that made it tingle and then go numb.

  “You may want to look away while I insert the pellet into your arm, Amalie,” she said.

  I turned my head, and saw Rodrish was giving me an encouraging smile. The specialist had given the right answer. My children would be able to apply to Colony Ten. As far as Rodrish and his parents were concerned, Cinders’ shoe fitted again. We could now forget the whole unfortunate incident and carry on as before.

  I looked back at where the doctor was carefully cutting a hole in my arm. I watched as she inserted a pale blue pellet. For some reason, I’d assumed the pellet would be solid and round, but it was oblong with a lot of tiny holes punched through it. I’d been making a lot of wrong assumptions lately.

  Dr Johal stuck a small white patch over the cut on my arm. “You should keep the regrowth fluid patch in place for twenty-four hours to let your arm fully heal. You’ll be able to feel the lump of the pellet under the skin for a while, but it will be fully absorbed at the end of the three months.”

  “Thank you for helping me, doctor.” I rolled down my sleeve and stood up.

  Rodrish and his parents started saying their farewells to Dr Johal, but I opened the door and went out. I was startled to see a room of people sitting and waiting. I must have come through this room when I arrived, but I’d been staggering along, totally unaware of my surroundings.

  I could see some of the people sitting here were clutching their heads, and knew the pain they were feeling and the horrible way the world was spinning round them. They all had relatives or friends sitting close to them, holding their hands and comforting them. Several distraught children were being cuddled on their mothers’ laps.