Nimisha's Ship

by Anne McCaffrey

  “Doc?” Jon said in a tone of outrage that gratified Nimisha.

  “Yes, yes, I knew, but as you also know, Nimisha didn’t come near me during the first trimester. This is all your, or her, doing. Or maybe there’s something in Erehwon’s soil that is increasing human fertility. I don’t know, but I swear upon my Hippocratic oath—”

  “You’re an AI, you never swore one,” Nimisha roused enough to protest weakly.

  “Lord Naves did,” Doc replied so caustically that Nimisha realized he had not tampered with this pregnancy, though how he could have, she couldn’t guess. “I’m replacing your implant right now,” he added.

  “Saves me insisting,” Jon said firmly.

  Nimisha groaned. Holding the girl he had taken while Casper coped with the third, another boy, he strode to the head of the couch and kissed her tenderly.

  “I don’t mind having so many children from you, Nimisha Boynton, but I don’t like you so distressed.”

  “She’s perfectly healthy, Jon,” Doc said. “I wish I knew what to look for to isolate the factor of so many multiple births in you two women. The good aspect is how far up this will raise you in the esteem of the Sh’im.”

  “There is that.” Despite herself, Nimisha started to laugh almost uncontrollably and was immensely grateful for the analgesic that prevented her abdominal muscles from hurting at the abuse of laughter.

  “No, she’s not hysterical,” Doc said when the others looked concerned. “At least she sees the funny side of this.”

  “I’m not sure I do,” Jon said almost savagely.

  The need to placate him sobered Nimisha and she pulled his face closer to her, stroking his cheek and then parting the wrapper of the child he held so she could see the face of her latest daughter.

  “She looks like Cuiva did,” she said, blurting it out, and then she was crying as uncontrollably as she had been laughing.

  “I’ll handle this one,” was the last thing she heard Doc say as a friendly oblivion overtook her.

  She woke in her own bed, Jon dozing in the chair, his head propped on one hand. She was sore, but at least she could see her toes again, and she breathed such a sigh of relief that Jon woke with a start.

  “How are you?” he asked, dropping to his knees beside the bed, clasping her hand and then smoothing her hair back from her face.

  “I feel a little sore, and a great deal foolish for that emotional show.”

  He smiled. “Shock is what I’d call it. Does the girl really resemble Cuiva?”

  “As she was at birth,” Nimisha said, trying not to let the sadness she felt color her words. Then she looked around. “Where are the babies? Are they all right? I never even looked at them.”

  “They’re fine. Uk, Eloo, and Lal are minding them in the spare cabin. They’ve been bathed, fed, and are sleeping.”

  “You look so tired, love,” she said, fingering his silvering hair back over his right ear.

  “I am,” he admitted. “Doc did replace your implant. Five children are more than enough. More than enough.”

  “I haven’t really minded, Jon, but having them one at a time in the normal fashion would have been much easier.”

  He gave a tired chuckle. She patted the other side of the bed, which he normally slept in. “If the babies are in Sh’im keeping, you need your sleep.”

  He slid in from the foot of the bed so he wouldn’t rock her, but when he measured his length beside her, she snuggled against him, grasping his left hand in hers and pillowing her head on his upper arm. He was asleep almost as soon as she dropped off again.

  X

  NIMISHA DID NOT join the welcoming committee when the Acclarke landed on the field. In the days since the news of their emergence and contact with the beacon, she had been slow to recover from the birth of the triplets. Neither Doc nor Jon had to appeal to her common sense to remain resting in the Fiver.

  She was alerted by Helm when the Acclarke was on In-system Drive and he could initiate contact at her command. Which she did almost immediately, unable to wait until anyone else could join her, so eager was she to speak to those on the Acclarke.

  “Lady Nimisha Boynton?” the astounded captain asked, staring at her with disbelieving eyes.

  “Boynton, yes, indeed, Captain . . . ?”

  “Nesta Meterios,” the other woman said quickly. “And most gratified to see you alive and so well.”

  Nimisha managed a brief smile. “Not half as pleased as we are to know you’ve survived that bloody wormhole.” Then she had to ask. “By any remote chance, is my daughter, Cuiva, on board, Captain Meterios?”

  “No, my lady” and Meterios sounded shocked at the very idea. “The Acclarke is a Navy vessel. But I do have good news in that regard, Lady Nimisha. A pulse giving the location of your beacon was received four years ago, and the Five B, with Captain Caleb Rustin, your daughter and her companion, and six other handpicked crew set off by Interstellar Drive to rescue you.”

  “Oh, Cuiva.” Nimisha sighed, her throat closing and her heart pounding at the very thought of seeing her daughter again.

  “Lady Nimisha?” Captain Meterios asked anxiously. “Are you all right?”

  “I am overjoyed to the point of being speechless, Captain. Have you any idea of their ETA?”

  “They can’t be but a few months away now, my lady. The Acclarke, however, is carrying mail packets that have accrued on board in case the wormhole opened. Which it obviously has, since that is how we got here. You are living on the Fiver? The planet is dangerous?”

  The captain could see no more than the pilot area, so Nimisha grinned.

  “I’m on watch, Captain, but not at all alone on this planet.” She had one ear listening for the babies who, for once, were all asleep at the same time. “In my initial survey of this world, I discovered four other crashed ships. Two groups survived. The most recent, the FSPS Poolbeg, has four survivors—” She named them. “And the other group has been here even longer, and we owe much to them for their survival skills.”

  “How fortunate for you.”

  “Indeed, Captain, especially since the second group are aliens.” Nimisha managed not to laugh at the stunned surprise on the captain’s face. She heard a male voice excitedly asking for more details.

  “That was Lieutenant Commander Globan Escorias, my XO, Lady Nimisha.” The captain’s voice had an edge that suggested she did not appreciate the interruption. But the screen widened to include the dark-visaged officer, bouncing about in the seat beside her in his urgency to know more.

  “Aliens, Lady Nimisha?” he asked. “Sentient aliens? Humanoid?”

  “They are not merely sentient, but we consider them sapient, too.” Noting the dismay on the captain’s face, she added quickly, “From a space-faring, colonizing species, so we have not compromised their evolution. They are our friends and valued allies,” she said as firmly as she could.

  “Yes, yes, of course,” the XO put in hastily. “Sapient aliens. This will astound the civilized worlds.”

  “Erehwon may now be included in that number, Commander.”

  “Oh, yes, decidedly, yes, of course it would. My congratulations, Lady Nimisha.”

  “And our thanks for your design,” Captain Meterios said, firmly taking over the contact. “The Acclarke is the model Four, my lady, from your Ship Yard, with some alterations and upgrades for naval use. Truly, without an independent AI Helm we would not have survived the journey through that appalling wormhole.”

  “No, you would not. The Poolbeg and the other three ships, who had no such AI reflexes, were badly damaged by their passage.”

  “We were also able to rescue the survivors of the space station,” the captain said.

  “Space station?” Nimisha repeated, confused.

  “A space station, the Wormhunter,” Meterios explained with a vacuous smile, “was set up to monitor such phenomena and located ten thousand kilometers from your Mayday marker, Lady Nimisha”—Nimisha grimaced at this constant use o
f her title; she had become far too accustomed to Erehwon informality although Lady Rezalla would not approve—“safe enough, we thought, but the wormhole opened just in front of it, I ordered them into escape pods and to net up tightly.”

  “No space station exists that could survive a trip through that wormhole,” Nimisha said, shaking her head.

  “Exactly, Lady Nimisha. It broke up very quickly by the force exerted on it and went through as a twisted mass. It and the escape pods were drawn in well ahead of the Acclarke. Powerful as the engines are, my lady, we were unable to reverse out of danger.”

  “I thought you were supposed to enter the wormhole and find me,” Nimisha said.

  “Yes, but we would have preferred to enter on our terms, my lady,” the captain said crisply.

  “Yes, of course. How many pods were there?” Nimisha asked.

  “Twelve, but only eleven exited. Those who had fastened the netting securely came through in much better shape. Some did not respond quickly enough to the order to abandon the station. They tried to bring things with them.” The captain evidently expected instant obedience. Dangerous as it had been to stop and collect equipment or personal effects, scientists operated on different standards. “That’s why the group’s leader, Dr. Qualta, was so badly injured. She is now recovering satisfactorily.”

  “Another one of my units, no doubt,” Doc said rather smugly at that point.

  Jon with Casper close behind him arrived at that moment, so Nimisha introduced the two Poolbeg officers.

  “Captain Meterios has informed me that Caleb Rustin is bringing Cuiva on the Five B, the long way round,” Nimisha said, clinging to Jon’s hand. He pressed back, giving her a quick encouraging smile.

  “Your arrival is eagerly anticipated, Captain,” Jon said. “Helm, have you given the Acclarke our exact coordinates?”

  “Yes, it has,” Captain Meterios replied so smartly that Nimisha wondered if the woman disliked using AI units. “We shall touch down in approximately eight hours and twenty minutes, Lady Nimisha, Captain Svangel.”

  “Be prepared to celebrate, Captain,” Jon said warningly. “Our allies, the Sh’im, enjoy every opportunity to do so, and this is certainly a special event. My compliments, Captain Meterios, to you and your crew.”

  Nimisha nodded once again in farewell; what little energy she had was depleted by the exchange and the knowledge that Cuiva was on her way here. Then a thought struck her forcibly.

  “Oh, shaggit, whatever is Cuiva going to say about having five siblings?” she exclaimed.

  “She’s your daughter, Nimi. She’ll handle it just fine,” Jon said, beaming.

  “Oh, dear heart, there won’t be any news for you and Syrie and Casper.”

  He hugged her. “That’s a very small concern, believe me. Career naval personnel learn to think of their shipmates as all the family they need. And I believe that’s true enough. Even though we were very close as children, I don’t think I saw my twin sister but once after I graduated from the Academy. She was killed in a high-speed rail accident on the Cross-Orient express.” He gave a sigh and a little shake of his head. “A long time ago, love.”

  “What’s happened?” Syrona cried from the open hatch, hurrying in with Tim, who was leading Hope by the hand.

  Jon recited the tale as he acquired a restorative from Cater and brought it to an exhausted Nimisha.

  “Your daughter is on her way?” Syrona cried, slipping into the seat on the other side of Nimisha. “Doc, does Nimi need some help?”

  “For once I think the only problem with her is intense joy and relief,” Doc replied. “If she would deign to lie upon the couch, I’ll check her over.”

  “I’ll be all right, really, I will,” Nimisha said, waving her hand in an aimless fashion and then starting on the warm drink Jon had brought her.

  He took the cup and hauled her to her feet. “One can have a bit too much joy all at once, you know, and I’d rather the incoming didn’t see you looking quite so pale, as if you’d seen a ghost.”

  “Which I have, in a way,” Nimisha said, and even as Jon swung her feet up on the medical couch, she started to weep quietly.

  Jon smiled and leaned down to kiss her cheek. “It’s all right, love. It’s all right.”

  She didn’t even protest when she felt several hyposprays penetrate her arms.

  “Bed rest for you, Nimi,” Doc said at his gentlest. “Syrona, who’s available to manage the babies?”

  “I’ll go see,” Syrona said, but she paused by the medical unit on her way out the door and kissed Nimisha’s cheek. “I am so happy for you, Nimi.”

  “I’m rather happy for myself, really, in spite of my tears. Tim, where are Perria and Sven right now?”

  Tim chuckled. “Getting dirty, Nimi. Don’t worry about them. You listen to Doc.”

  “He sounds so grown-up,” Nimisha murmured to Jon.

  “You wouldn’t think so if you heard him with the Sh’im younglings,” Jon said with a disparaging snort. He slipped his arms under her body and carried her to their cabin, despite her protests. “He’s the ringleader of most of the trouble the pack gets into.”

  “I guess I won’t worry about them,” she said, sniffing back her tears, but they seemed to keep coming despite her best attempts to cease sniveling.

  Jon threw back the top fur, lovingly created by Sh’im female hands, and settled her on the bed, tucking it around her flaccid body. Then, he sat down beside her, taking her hands in his and caressing them, speaking in soft, soothing tones.

  “I know you don’t like to admit to any weakness, dear Lady Nimisha Boynton-Rondymense,” he said, grinning at his sudden formality, “but I know how very much you’ve missed your firstborn and body-heir. You wouldn’t realize how often you speak her name in your sleep. I could almost be jealous,” he teased, stroking her hair back from her tear-flushed face.

  “Doc gave me something . . .” she said, her voice thick and her enunciation beginning to slur.

  “I hope so. You need the rest.”

  She tried to grab his hand, because she had to say something to him before she lost consciousness.

  “My apologies to the . . .”

  She thought she heard him chuckle as her eyes inexorably closed and everything went dark.

  Jon was quietly moving about their cabin when she roused from the induced sleep. She lay there, eyes barely open, watching him dry his tanned, muscular body. It was very early in the morning, or late at night, so she suspected he had just returned from the welcome party.

  “What are they like?” she asked, her voice thick with sleep.

  “Awake, are you?” He leaned over the bed and kissed her. His grin was devilish, and he quirked one eyebrow up high so that she knew she would get a candid rundown. “The children are all taken care of, luv, so don’t fret over them.” He chuckled. “A bit of a surprise for our visitors. Or, I should be more specific, the naval ones. Captain Meterios was shocked out of her skivvies, and I doubt I shall ever restore myself to her good opinion, even after Syrona had a go at her.” He cleared his throat. “We neglected to mention Syrona’s rank, and I think I’ll predate a field promotion to lieutenant commander for her, for bravery under unusual circumstances. Which indeed is justified by her admirable courage under trying circumstances.”

  Despite being sleepy, Nimisha had caught the edge in his voice, mentioning this Captain Meterios. But he would be senior to her no matter the more than twenty years he’d been stranded on Erewhon.

  “Globan Escorias had just joined the Acclarke for his ninth tour of duty on her,” Jon went on, sliding under the furs beside her and settling her comfortably against him. He chuckled softly. “He’d only time to report in when Helm sounded the alert. Officers get high-risk pay for a four-month tour, so he’s never minded the duty. And finally got what he’d been waiting for—and more than he expected. He’ll fit in; so will the other Acclarkes. Mixed crew, praise be.”

  “The scientists who survived the statio
n disaster?”

  “Dr. Qualta was brought over here for our Doc’s second opinion. She had severe internal injuries. Mid-sixties, but her general good health and fitness are a big asset right now. Doc did a little more internal work, since he’s grades higher than the one on the Acclarke—that was always only for the usual shipboard injuries and ailments—and she’ll recover with rest and care. The Sh’im have assigned one of Doc’s best trainees to her, and I must say, she’s adjusted to the aliens better than anyone else.”

  “What sort of specialist is she?”

  “Astrophysics, but old enough to have plenty of sense.”

  He really had tangled with Meterios then. “And the others?”

  “I could wish for a broader range of specialties among ’em,” he said with a grimace, “but they’re all welcome. Then, too,” he added in a thoughtful tone, “I don’t think anyone’s going to want to turn around and do another four- or five-year trip back home right away.” He gave a little grin and rubbed his hands together, rolling his eyes in an outrageous expression of chicanery. “Who knows how many’ll want to stay on. Especially since I know some of the people coming on the Fiver B,” he added quickly. “The Chief Engineer’s wife is a semantics expert. Nazim Ford-Coattes—”

  “My test pilot!” She wriggled a little in his arms to hear such good news.

  “Apparently he also tested the Five B, so he was a natural backup in a mixed crew. Gaitama Rezinda got special training from Hiska to be sure nothing went wrong.”

  Nimisha laughed. “We’d never have got Hiska aboard, but I know Gaitama, and if Hiska trained her, she’ll be topflight. Oh, both will be tremendous assets, Jon. Who else?”

  “All too young for me to know by name, except Caleb Rustin.” He gave her a quick look, and she laughed and patted his side in reassurance. “His XO is Kendra Oscony, tops in communications and mathematics, so Escorias assured me. Ensign Mareena Kawamura, who’s got botany and biology; Chief Hadley will be yet another astronomer; and Cuiva’s companion, Perdimia Ejallos, from a service family, has good martial arts skills.”