With everything opened, and the paper collected, Lori and Hunter thanked everyone, and went to dress for the honeymoon. After lingering goodbyes, and promises of longer visits to their wedding guests next time, they entered Eagle One, glided out the landing bay, and rocketed skyward, up and out over the Sound, and on upward into low orbit, westward, racing the sun, heading for Hawaii.
They arrived just after dawn, to a plush but busy resort, one of many newlyweds checking in, but they would not be staying long. Much earlier, Lori asked Eagle One, when it inquired as to how she wanted to arrange her honeymoon, to find them someplace remote, private, quiet, and serene, and warm. Eagle One had its own ideas, the pattern set by Stephanie, and repeated by Amanda, and it assumed that would be the usual course for a Saxon honeymoon.
“You do not wish to travel to a different place each day?” it asked her.
“No. I’d like to stay in one place for a number of days, and not have to travel all the time.” The air car said nothing, as usual, but the screen became a riot of Selat script. “Can you make those arrangements?” she asked.
“Do you wish to go around the planet, or return directly home after the days away?”
“Oh, no, not directly, a trip around the world would be fine. If you can just find a place for us to stay for a few days, where we can be alone and relax, then we can go onward to a few other places.”
“Shall I prepare to leave, also?”
Never! Lori shouted in her mind, surprised the air car would even say that, but she said, “No, of course not, you should remain with us, always, as usual. You are never intrusive, and will always be welcome to stay with us.”
“Yes, I planned to do so. Here is an itinerary. Is it satisfactory?”
Lori read the screen. A day in Hawaii, on Molokai, where Stephanie and Amanda stayed. Then on to an island off Fiji, one she was not familiar with, for five days and nights. That looked nice, lovely in fact. Then to New Zealand, a stop in Australia, and South Africa, a diversion to fly over Antarctica en route to Machu Picchu in Peru, and three days in St. John’s, sailing on Hunter’s yacht. A free day, to stay or come home, but back to New York by the next day, a Sunday, for sure.
“Wonderful. Just what I want. That will be a wonderful honeymoon, Eagle One, your schedule is excellent.”
“Very well,” it said, “I will arrange the confirmations.”
The island off Fiji proved to be as quiet as Hawaii was hectic. There, they were lost in the crowd, found the tiny beach too packed, the pool jammed, so left the resort for a hike in the rain forest, up a steep and wet trail, toward a view and a waterfall. Hunter led the way, asking as they entered the green jungle, “Are you OK with this?”
“Fine,” Lori said, already perspiring. “I always liked the forest. I still do.” Especially when no one’s shooting at me.
His concern eased, Hunter took her hand, and led on.
They arrived at Fiji in early evening, the sun already setting, soft lights on in the grass-roofed hut under the palms just off the beach. Eagle One landed on a large deck, and they stepped out into the humid warmth of the tropical island. A breeze cooled them, the waves made little “whoosing” sounds, and somewhere, a bird or a frog or something called in a high-pitched voice.
“Oh, this is lovely,” Lori said, stepping out of her sandals, and starting for the beach. “Do we have to check in, or anything?”
“It’s all taken care of, according to the message,” Hunter said, hurrying to catch up to her. “They know we’re here.”
They stepped into the wash of the small wavelets, and found the water warm, almost too warm. After walking up the beach a short distance, until they could see the dim lights of another hut, they returned to their own, to find a table set, and a hot meal awaiting on the counter nearby. Sitting down in the chairs brought the newlyweds two waiters, who poured wine, and began the unobtrusive service that would be the hallmark of the resort. The servants disappeared after setting a dessert before them, full dark now, but the nearby vegetation winked and sparkled with fireflies, or maybe artificial lights, and stars glowed brilliantly overhead.
Hunter toasted his bride yet again, with a clink of the wine glass, filled with an after dinner cordial now, something French, even he wasn’t sure what, and asked her what she’d like to do. “Dance? Go for a stroll, they have tennis under the lights, there’s a casino on the other side of the island,...?”
Shaking her head, Lori said, “No, none of the above. I’d like to swim, if it’s safe, then come out and make love here on the beach. Think we can do that? Sure couldn’t on Hawaii.”
“I think that is possible, my love. Coffee first?”
“No, after.” Lori added, “Then I have a special gift for you tomorrow.”
They finished the cordial, and stepped naked into the sea.
The next morning, late, after a leisurely breakfast, a look at the morning news, almost yesterday’s from the states, and a second cup of coffee, Lori told Hunter to go to Eagle One, and sit. In the pilot’s seat, she called up the protocol, said the words, and changed places with Hunter. Quietly, he repeated the words as he held his hand on the screen. Finished, he turned to Lori and said, “That’s it? I can fly Eagle One now?”
Lori nodded.
“This is how the others, your grandparents, and mother, got the privilege?”
Another nod.
“But not your father?”
“No, maybe that’s still a touchy subject, but he wanted to have nothing to do with the air car, and really, Mom’s interest was not so great, and anyway, Grandma was not anxious to release it–until I absconded with it, you know?” She stopped her tale. “And now you, my husband, my love, may fly Eagle One anytime you want. Or need to.”
“Can I now?”
“Sure.”
Hunter turned in the seat, snapped the safety harness, and slowly eased the air car forward and up, and began a leisurely circuit of the island. “This is amazing,” he said, “Fantastic! I never though I’d actually get to fly this air car. Man, what a treat.”
Lori smiled, watching her husband, listening to his happy voice.
“How fast can it go?”
“How fast do you want to?”
“Mach one.”
“Get away from the island a little, and let it rip.”
Hunter did, whooping as the gauge showed them clipping past the sound barrier.
Each day after proved as quiet and relaxing as Lori could imagine, just what she wanted, she told Hunter–and Eagle One–and she felt safe and protected, somehow immune from the travails of the world they’d soon have to return to. They swam and snorkeled, walked the beach, sailed the small catamaran in the lagoon for hours, going as fast as Hunter could take it, spray flying, the waves wamping against the twin hulls, and Lori shrieking in happiness. Meals appeared as if magically, and just as easily vanished again. Whatever they needed, or wanted, a tap or two on the computer screen, and it arrived, no matter what the time of day.
They did play tennis, with another honeymooning couple, each oblivious as to the other’s background or history, and went to the dinner shows at night in the nearby resort, but mostly kept to themselves.
On the last day, Lori asked Eagle One if they could stay one more night. Within moments, a confirmation appeared, the itinerary altered, a day dropped at the end of the honeymoon, but Hunter only smiled. “We could stay here for another week, if you want, I checked,” he said. “Or longer.”
“No, one more day is fine, then we’ll get going. I could get into the habit of doing nothing after a while here, and it’d be hard to break. No, I’d like to see a little more of this world of ours, we can go.”
Reluctantly they flew off, heading west, Hunter at the controls, looking alert and important, attending to every detail, each gauge, watching the viewscreens, easily piloting them to the next destination.
Spring seeped over the Antarctic, long shadows from the hills falling onto the glaciers as they overflew the
icy continent, watching penguins migrating below to their hatching grounds. More chilly weather, with clouds and rain squalls met them at Machu Picchu, but they toured the restored ruins anyway, and sat through a re-enactment of ancient life in the Inca stronghold. Then on to Saint John’s and a happy reunion with the Waterfall’s Pride, and its crew. After a discreet inquiry, Lori nodded, and within the hour, the kits and Tarue arrived on a fast air car, bounding down the wharf and leaping onto the deck with endless questions.
“You sure you wanted this?” Hunter asked as they set sail in the bright morning light.
“Yeah, this if fine, this is what I like,” Lori answered, a kit in front of each knee, feeding her, and themselves, grapes.
Three days later, as they returned to port, Tarue asked her, “What will you do now, Sky Lady?”
“Now, I will get back to work, and finalize plans to return to your home world. Next trip will be to 47 Tucana, and Uta,” she said.
Chapter 13 - Pregnant
Lori awoke in their suite in the starship Koyaanisqatsi feeling tired and out of sorts. Hunter, shaving in the bath, greeted her cheerfully as she sat on the toilet. She mumbled a reply, left, and dressed. Together, they headed up to the dining area.
As soon as they stepped off the elevator and rounded the corridor, a babble of voices and sound reached them. They went on, and approached the main dining area. The aroma of breakfast drifted in the low currents of the air circulators–pancakes, sweet cinnamon, fresh fruit, and coffee. Lori, usually hungry and looking forward to eating, suddenly felt nauseous. She paused, stopped walking. Hunter went on a couple of paces, stopped, turned back, and said, “Lori, what...?”
She didn’t answer, instead rushed back a few steps, pushed into the ladies rest room, and hurried into a stall. There, she vomited, thin liquid, and again, more, her stomach heaving, she suddenly feeling weak, maybe faint. She knelt there on the floor a moment, and slowly rose, moved to the sink, and washed her face and mouth. Her image in the mirror stared back at her.
“Man, I look like shit.” She returned to the hallway, to see Hunter standing there, waiting for her.
“Couldn’t you wait...” he started to say, then changed it to, “What’s the matter?”
“I don’t know, I’m just feeling sick.”
“What?” Hunter said, nodding to a couple of people who passed, saying, “Good morning.”
“Can I get you something, coffee, juice?” he asked.
“No.” Lori turned away, feeling a little nauseous again. “Nothing now, I just want to lie down again.”
“Stomach?”
“Yeah, maybe something I ate.” They returned to the elevator, waited as four people left, and pushed the button for their deck. “I just don’t know.”
Lori hurried back to the cabin, and just made it inside and to the toilet before she vomited again. Hovering over the bowl, she waved her hand to keep Hunter back and out.
“Man, you really are sick. Look, I’ll call the doctor.” He tapped out a message on the screen.
“It’s nothing...maybe the flu.” She began undressing again.
“Looks like something, and no one’s had the flu since we left six weeks ago. I asked Dr. Parus to come have a look at you.”
“OK, fine, I’m getting back into bed.” She dropped most of her clothing on the chair, and returned between the sheets.
“Can I get you something?”
“No.” Even the thought of food left her feeling sick again. “But thanks. Maybe later.”
“OK. You all right? Want a wash cloth for your head or anything?” His voice showed his clear worry for her.
She waved him away, wanting him gone, and not annoying her, saying, “Go get some breakfast. I’ll wait here for the doc.”
With a long look at her, he left. She lay there, wondering at her sudden sickness, idly rubbing her nipples, tender and sore for some reason, her period must be coming on, it was surely due.
Hunter returned in a short while, saying, “Everyone’s asking for you. You gonna cancel the meeting at ten?”
“I dunno,” Lori said. Her quizzical look, and slight smile stopped Hunter at the threshold of the bedroom.
“What?” he said, his face draining of color.
Lori held up the small plastic strip. “It’s positive.” She glanced at the Anawoka doctor standing at the end of the bed. Hunter just stared at her. “I’m pregnant.” And she smiled.
Color returned to Hunter’s face, he smiled, but his look betrayed skepticism. “How...?” he began.
“They usual way, I presume,” Doctor Parus said with a small flip of her wings. “You two have been intimate, I presume. No AI, or anything?”
“Yes, and no,” Hunter said, answering the questions. “Pregnant? Really?”
“Yeah. And I had morning sickness. Aren’t I lucky?”
“People were asking about that when I told them what happened to you,” Hunter said.
“Oh, gads, you told them?” Lori said, her voice rising.
“Well, yeah, you weren’t there, at breakfast, everyone wanted to know where you were. So I told them.” He looked at her. “Shouldn’t I have?”
Lori waved a hand. “No matter. It’ll be out, and all over the ship by now.” She looked at the plastic, put it on the table, and leaned back into the pillows propped up against the headboard.
Hunter came to her, sat on the bed, and took her in her arms. Looking into her face, he said, “How do you feel about this?” From his smile, she gathered he felt pretty good.
“I just threw up twice. Guess I feel pretty sick about it at the moment.”
“Oh,” he said, the smile fading.
“But I guess I’m a little concerned, scared, even, we’re so far from Earth, you know.”
“Now, Lorelei, we are fully equipped for all medical needs on the Koya, even those associated with pregnancy and birth.” The doctor stared at her sternly, as if she should know that.
“And raising a baby? Diapers? Baby food? Whatever?” she said.
“Yes. We can manage rather handily. Can you?”
“Sure. Sure we can.” Hunter said.
“How do you feel?” Lori said.
“Thrilled. Sorry about the morning sickness–it’ll pass, right?” he said over his shoulder to the doctor. Without waiting for an answer, he returned to Lori. “But I’m ecstatic otherwise. A baby. Oh, Lori, I love you so,” and he drew her to him, kissing her, and holding her in a tight hug. “What a great and wonderful surprise.”
She hugged him back, letting him hold her for as long as he wanted, content in his arms.
The doctor waited, and when they relaxed after a few more kisses, said, “I can provide something to control the sickness of the morning, if desired.”
“No, I’ll try to live with it, no drugs I don’t have to take, safe or not. Not unless it gets unbearable.”
“So how long? When’s the baby due to be born?” Hunter said.
“I’m maybe a month along. So eight more months, more or less. Dr. P will do a scan, and maybe get a better idea later on, in a few weeks. But probably around mid August, or so.” Hunter seemed lost in thought, calculating the date. “What will we do with a baby on the ship? And right before we arrive at 47-T?”
Hunter stood. “We will feed it and love it and care for it, and take it everywhere. The Damai will be amazed, and love it, and you, all the more. And maybe it’ll help dispel the idea of you being a goddess.” He smirked a little his head dropping to one side. “Imagine that?”
“We can’t be taking a little baby down to the surface, all the pathogens, the microbes, everything...”
“He–or she–can be inoculated, just like the rest of us. Just like you are, probably will have a lot of your immunity, already. Look, lots of babies have been born in space, en route to some planet or other.”
“What’s the survival rate?” Lori said, looking at the doctor.
“Not much different from that of the parent’s planet,”
he answered.
“But there is a difference?”
“A slight increase in infant mortality. One exists, yes.”
“Well, we’ll just have to be especially careful. But we can do that, and we will,” Hunter said. Seeing Lori’s concerned face, he changed the subject. “Now, I have to tell everyone, a general announcement, or e-mail...?”
Lori held up a hand. “Please, wait a while, OK. It’s too soon, could miscarry, who knows what, it’s not unknown this early. And in Williams Space, you know...everything,” and she flipped the hand outward.
“Lori, the word’s out, or will be out, one look at my face, and everyone will know.”
She smiled at him, loving his reaction to the news. She nodded. “OK, but delay for a few hours yet, anyway, I have some people I need to tell first–before the rest. They should hear it from me.”
“Who?”
“Eagle One. And Tarue.”
Two hours later, having ignored all the calls and messages piling up on the phone screen, and canceling her meeting, and having eaten a little dry toast and a cup of tea, Lori sat in Eagle One, one hand on her stomach, the other on the screen.
“Lorelei, I hear you are ill. What is the matter?” the air car asked her.
“I am not ill,” she said.
“The mail net is full of messages of concern for you, you did not eat breakfast, and the doctor visited you in you cabin. What is your status?”
Lori snorted a chuckle at the amazing knowledge and question from her beloved air car.
“My status in not one of illness. It is one of pregnancy. Just observed this morning, though small signs had appeared, which I ignored, in my, ah, ignorance, of the condition, I guess. So, Eagle One, I am going to have baby.”
T-47 Book II (Saxon Saga 6) Page 22
