Stranded in Space

by Rinelle Grey

  “She was in Kugah’s ship,” Folly reminded her. “Could that have protected her?”

  Amelie nodded. “It must have I guess.” Her face fell. “That doesn’t help us at all though. It protected me in the moment of radiation. It didn’t help me resist it any.” She sighed, and the light left her eyes, leaving her whole face drawn and tired. “Nothing helps. I don’t know what to do.”

  Her voice was hopeless and her shoulders slumped.

  There wasn’t anything he could do to help her, much as he wanted to.

  Folly looked just as worried and tired. “I’d better get back to Kerit,” she said. “Sorry for bothering you, Amelie, but thank you.”

  Amelie shook her head immediately. “It was no bother, Folly. Even though it didn’t give us a solution, it did give us another piece of the puzzle. Eventually, we’ll have enough to see a clear picture.” Her voice was determined, despite the setback.

  Lifting his head, Kugah stared around the crowded cargo bay at the men, women, and children. All of the adults who were crowded into the area were showing signs of the advanced ageing. As he watched, another couple entered the room, the woman supporting the man. Aleck, his hair going grey almost before Kugah’s eyes, showed them to a mattress on the floor.

  They didn’t have long. It was happening too fast.

  “Amelie!” A weak voice called out.

  Amelie’s head turned towards the sound, as Kugah’s did.

  Imyne sat up in her bed, waving feebly to them. Wires and tubes ran from her body, preventing her from getting out of the bed, even though she plucked at them weakly.

  Amelie hurried over to her side. “Don’t try to get up. You need to rest.”

  “I had to tell you. I found the answer.” The woman’s voice was faint. Kugah’s hearing picked up the words Amelie had to bend closer to hear. Imyne’s hand shook as the pushed the tablet towards Amelie. “Chemical formula is here. It should work.”

  Amelie glanced down at the tablet, her face clearing for a moment. When she saw the chemical formula, it’s letters going off the edge of the screen, it fell again. “How do we make it?”

  The expression on Imyne’s face was just as hopeless. “I don’t know. If I was in my lab back on Urslat I could figure it out, but out here…” Her voice trailed off.

  Kugah could see it in her eyes. In the eyes of everyone around them. They’d die if someone didn’t figure this out.

  Imyne was already dying.

  He couldn’t help it. He stepped forwards and reached for the tablet. “Kugah, check.”

  Amelie and Imyne’s eyes turned towards him, and both of them watched silently as he scanned the formula. The hopeful expression on their faces, probably remembering his substitution in the formula back on Semala, was almost painful. The chances that he could help were slim. It had been sheer chance he’d had the answer then.

  And he didn’t now. From what he’d seen of the radiation they were dealing with, he could see that the sick chemist’s answer would probably work, but he had only dabbled in chemistry, he was a biologist at heart. He had no idea how to make a formula this complex.

  He’d been hoping he could recognise it, and suggest something similar, but he didn’t even know where to start. This formula was far beyond anything he had worked with.

  He handed it back to Amelie, shaking his head, dreading the inevitable sinking in her eyes.

  She squared her shoulders. “Thank you, Imyne,” she said gently. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Her bravery and determination knew no bounds. Kugah’s admiration for her spirit only grew. He nodded to the sick woman and followed Amelie back to her terminal. Not that there was much he could do except listen as she fed the information into the computer. “I’m going to start by running this formula through the searches. Maybe we can find something similar enough to work from.”

  Her voice was strong, but it wavered slightly. She wasn’t any more certain than he was. In fact, she knew this probably wouldn’t work. But with everyone around her relying on her, she couldn’t just give up.

  Kugah sat silently next to her as the computer processed the request. It searched systematically through hundreds and thousands of files, but even as the file count neared its end, the results were empty.

  The search flashed, its job done.

  One lone, solitary, file came up.

  Kugah held his breath as Amelie clicked on it, then his heart started thudding as he realised what it was.

  His own medical records.

  How? How was the one thing Amelie needed, somehow in his blood?

  It was almost too good to be true. Here he was, being offered the best chance he could ever hope for to help all these people.

  And Amelie.

  Not directly, of course. He’d already done that by protecting her from the radiation with his armour. His heart warmed a little at that knowledge. That he was being offered a second chance, to help all these people who she was responsible for, was a wonderful bonus.

  It was almost as if he had been sent here to do this.

  Or he was being given a chance to redeem himself for all the wrongs he had done.

  Either way, he’d take it.

  He never thought he’d actually be grateful for the metamorphosis he’d undergone. Oh, he had been at first. Grateful that it gave him the chance to save his grandmother at least. Since then, he’d come to hate what had been done to him.

  Not now. Because his normal physiology wouldn’t have protected Amelie from the radiation. Without it, he would probably be in as bad a state as all the other humans on this ship. And his normal body definitely wouldn’t happen to have the answer the humans were looking for either.

  He had no idea why the chemical they needed had been included in his body, but he was glad it had.

  His broken words wouldn’t suffice to explain his thoughts to Amelie, so he reached for the tablet.

  “Take whatever you need,” he typed. “I want to help.”

  *****

  Amelie stared at the file and at the words Kugah had typed, unable to believe it. What were the odds that Kugah’s blood would contain just the chemical formula they needed to remove the radiation?

  Of course, it made a strange sort of sense. Kugah’s body had been engineered to be a fighting machine, unstoppable by anything. It made sense that it would be able to withstand radiation, or deal with it if it couldn’t block it.

  That he had saved her from it as well, simply by shielding her with his armour, was hard to compute.

  But not as hard as accepting the way she’d felt when he’d put his arms around her. He’d only been trying to demonstrate what had saved her, he hadn’t meant anything by it. He certainly hadn’t been trying to stir up her emotions.

  She should have felt afraid, or at the very least, uncomfortable. But she hadn’t. Not even remotely. What she’d felt was warm, and safe, and protected.

  Something she didn’t have a lot of experience with.

  Amelie pushed that thought away, along with the longing that accompanied it, and focused on the records in front of her.

  The chemical they needed was part of Kugah’s blood. That meant she would have to draw his blood and extract the chemical from it. Amelie frowned, her mind already cataloguing the equipment she’d need. Lucky she had brought a centrifuge with her. Hopefully that would do the trick.

  A loud machine’s beeping filled the cargo bay, which was surprisingly silent as people snatched what sleep they could.

  Amelie’s heart rate accelerated at the sound. What now?

  Her eyes scanned the room, quickly zeroing in on a man bent over his pregnant wife. As though sensing her eyes on him, he looked up, his eyes wide with fear. “Help, something’s wrong.”

  Amelie knew what it was, even before she stood up. The woman had presented with high blood pressure, exacerbated by her pregnancy. She’d hoped the medication would lower it enough that it wouldn’t be a problem. Hurrying over towards the woman, Amelie bit he
r lip. She’d intended to check on her to see if the medication was working, but she hadn’t made it back.

  There was too much to do, too many people with serious health concerns. There was no way she could monitor them all.

  That didn’t stop her feeling hopelessly guilty.

  “She’s feeling sick and dizzy,” the man said, his face concerned. “Is everything all right?”

  “I need to check her out before I can tell you,” Amelie said gently.

  The woman’s blood pressure was elevated again. “Kugah, bring the ultrasound,” she said quickly, waving to the bulky machine.

  Kugah wheeled it over, and Amelie checked the baby. Her heart sank as she examined the scan data. She stared at the woman, deliberating, but she didn’t have many options. “I’m afraid we’re going to have to deliver immediately,” she said.

  The woman looked up at her, her eyes wide. “But I’m only thirty-six weeks.”

  “You have a moderate placental abruption, probably caused by your high blood pressure,” Amelie said, trying to temper the impatience she felt. “Normally, I’d monitor you for a few days, but I just don’t have time. If I miss the condition worsening, your baby could be deprived of oxygen. At thirty-six weeks, his chances of survival are almost one hundred percent. If we don’t deliver, you could both die.”

  The woman swallowed and reached out her hand for her partner, who took it. “Of course. Whatever you think is best, Dr Benton.”

  Amelie glanced back at her computer, where a possible cure, or at least a way to remove the radiation, awaited her. But the promise of finding it wouldn’t save this woman, or her baby. No matter how much she understood the greater good finding a cure would do, she couldn’t risk another death.

  She wouldn’t.

  The information she’d found would still be there once this baby was safely delivered. She let that hope sustain her as she prepared to induce labour, and assist the woman.

  For a few moments, she almost forgot about the sleeping baby in the sling on her chest. After her feed, little Camali had sunk into the deep sleep of a baby with a full tummy. Amelie rested a hand on the infant, not wanting to disturb her.

  She couldn’t hand the baby back to Marlee who was sleeping for the first time since this mess started. And she hadn’t had a chance to even think who else could care for the infant.

  Her eyes fell on Kugah. He stood motionless several metres away, watching her.

  Amelie hesitated. His hard, armoured body wasn’t really suitable for holding a child. How could a body designed for fighting care for the fragile body entrusted in her care?

  Then again, when he had held Chicken for her to draw blood, he’d been incredibly gentle.

  Her body heated as she remembered how gently he had brushed her hair away from her face and how safe and secure she had felt in his arms. Her heart lifted. He could do it, she was certain.

  “Kugah, can you look after Camali while I deliver this baby?”

  If his dark face could show an expression, Amelie was sure it would be doubt. But he stepped forwards anyway, holding out his hands, palms up.

  Fully aware of the young couple watching her with wide eyes, Amelie carefully unhooked the sling and slid the sleeping Camali out. She hesitated for a moment, then guided Kugah’s arms into a semblance of a cradle shape, before laying the baby into them, tucking the sling around her. “You need to make sure you keep her head supported,” she instructed. “Babies necks aren’t strong enough to support their heads.”

  Kugah’s head jerked in a nod, his eyes not leaving the sleeping baby.

  Camali stretched, her eyes fluttering, and for a moment Amelie was sure she was about to wake and let out a wail. But she just snuggled down into Kugah’s arms and gave a tiny snore.

  Amelie made herself turn away. Camali would be fine. This woman and her baby might not be if they didn’t receive immediate medical attention.

  *****

  It was several hours before Amelie had a chance to wonder how Kugah was going with Camali. The induced labour was hard on the exhausted mum, and the baby required constant monitoring to be sure he was coping with the stress. But when the tiny baby was breathing well and safe in her parent’s arms, and Amelie was sure the mum wasn’t going to haemorrhage, guilt hit her like a hammer.

  She stared around the room, searching for Kugah’s familiar black bulk.

  Her heart sagged in relief when Amelie saw him, sitting on her own stretcher near the computer, leaning back against the wall, Camali safely in his arms.

  At first, Amelie thought he might be sleeping, but his eyes followed her as she walked up, the only part of him that moved.

  Had he sat like that, not moving, for the hours it had taken her to deliver the baby?

  Her heart melted.

  How could anyone think that the huge alien was any sort of threat to them? Amelie almost forgot she had once felt even a little fearful.

  Somehow, she could no longer imagine her life without the alien in it.

  She shied away from that thought, not willing to face what it meant. She had plenty of things to distract her. Despite her exhaustion, she felt the urge to check on all the other patients in the room. What if she had missed some other emergency while she’d been focused on delivering the baby?

  She also needed to get back to the computer, and figure out how they could use Kugah’s blood to remove this radiation.

  But she was too exhausted to move.

  As though sensing her presence, Camali’s eyes flicked open, and she gave a short, stucco cry.

  Kugah sat up, his stiff posture conveying his alarm. “KaGeeGee take?”

  Amelie smiled at the panic in his tone, and reached out her hand. Her tiredness melted away at the need in the baby’s cry. “Yes, give her here. I’ll feed her.”

  Karla, one of the few people still standing, came across while she was feeding Camali, and gave her a report on the patients. Her attentive and through report relieved some of Amelie’s concerns. There was nothing that couldn’t wait and the most important thing Amelie could do right now was find a cure. All these makeshift treatments would do nothing if she didn’t fix the underlying cause.

  “Keep monitoring them, and let me know as soon as anything changes,” she instructed. “I think I may have something that will help.”

  Karla’s sharp eyes fastened on the baby on Amelie’s chest, who was just finishing her bottle. “Surely there’s someone less busy to care for that infant? You’ve got your hands full already.”

  Amelie called on her memories of Marlee’s self-assured mother certainty, trying to ignore the fact that her back was aching and her feet were sore. She smiled. “I’m managing just fine. Besides, everyone else is sick.”

  “I’m not,” Karla said firmly. “And neither is Bris. We can take care of the baby.”

  Amelie hesitated. Handing over Camali was harder than it should be, especially considering that Karla was right, her work would go much faster if she wasn’t weighed down by a baby. “Well, just for a little while then, until I get this treatment figured out.”

  She sounded just like Marlee.

  Karla gave her a knowing smile as she handed Camali over. Amelie was sure that the elderly nurse, who seemed far more spry than many of the younger passengers from Urslat, would take good care of the baby.

  Still, it took a little while for her to stop missing Camali’s warm presence. Amelie gave herself a shake. She had work to do. She headed back to her console, determined to find a cure as quickly as possible.

  Of course, it wasn’t that simple. First, she needed to take a new sample of Kugah’s blood, enough to run more tests, and attempt to separate the serum they needed from the blood cells. She worked nonstop, unaware that several hours were passing until Aleck touched her shoulder.

  When she looked up, his forehead was creased. “Dr Benton, I think you should come and check on Imyne. She’s not complaining, but I’m sure she’s in pain.”

  Amelie stood up imm
ediately, picking up the single vial of serum she’d managed to separate. Of course Imyne wasn’t complaining. She didn’t want to take precious time away from Amelie’s attempt to find a solution.

  Well, hopefully the treatment from Kugah’s blood would at least halt the damage.

  She checked the dialysis machine when she arrived, using staring at the machine as an excuse not to look at the woman’s drawn, aged face. Imyne’s condition shouldn’t be advancing this quickly. It was all happening so fast. Would her solution be too late? She adjusted a few settings, but as she’d said earlier, there was only so much she could do.

  Now it was down to Kugah’s blood.

  She held up the vial. “Imyne, I have a chemical solution that might remove the radiation. It hasn’t been tested yet though.” And there wasn’t time to test it. That was the problem.

  The woman’s eyes widened. “You do? How did you manage that?” Her voice wavered in disbelief.

  Amelie hesitated for a moment, but there was no real reason not to tell the truth. “From Kugah’s blood. The match came up when I ran a search, and I’ve managed to separate the chemical out. As I said though, it hasn’t been tested, and I’m not sure it will even work.”

  Suddenly it seemed such a long shot.

  “I doubt it can get much worse right now,” Imyne said dryly. “I’m willing to be a guinea pig. We can’t wait for detailed testing in this situation.”

  Amelie hesitated. What Imyne said made sense, but giving a treatment to a human being without major testing went against all her training, and her common sense.

  “Are you sure?” she asked doubtfully. “For all I know, our bodies could reject the alien chemical. Or it could be toxic. And this won’t even cure you, it will only stop the situation from getting worse.”

  Desperate times called for desperate measures. But this desperate?

  Imyne muttered something under her breath, and for a moment, Amelie thought she was going to think better of accepting the treatment. But she should have known the tough woman better. “I’m willing to give it a go,” she said firmly. “Just get a move on. I’m not getting any younger you know.”