Obligations Read online

  “How will the radiation affect our yet born child?” the hostile wife asked.

  Isaac paused to stare at the oldest of the three aliens as he worked at understanding their language. “You should be safe; just have someone else change his bandages,” he tried to reassure her with an unfelt smile.

  “My children have long been born and are late into their apprenticeships. I was asking after my beloved’s now-to-be-born children,” the hostile spouse said, and Isaac knew he had missed something vital.

  And again, he wished that all species had easy to distinguish sexual indicators. The first five years he and Tansea had worked together they had both been wrong about the other’s gender, it had taken a drunken depression to straighten things out. Now he found himself sitting beside a patient who was not only female, but also nearing the full-term of pregnancy.

  “Well, I would not risk removing the pellet for fear the poison would spread through your bloodstream and endanger your yet to be born,” Isaac said. “Perhaps you should contact a doctor of your own species; I would not even consider removing a child from your body,” Isaac finished. Marsupial? he thought and glanced at the patient’s bare chest and waist looking for a clue. That would explain a few things.

  “If the arm were removed, would my love’s child be free of the danger of radiation poisoning?” The friendlier and younger wife now moved forward to speak, and Isaac looked up to see her pain.

  “Removing the arm would gain time, a week, no more. As long as the child is within the mother, it will be exposed to radiation,” Isaac said with careful enunciation, trying to hide the blow behind his difficulty with the language.

  The trio accepted his statement without pause.

  “I am dying, Doctor, you have said so,” the patient said with equal slowness. “Is one week so wonderful a gift if it means I leave no child to bear my honor? I would ask you to remove my arm, now, and leave the father’s responsibilities to my beloved wives.”

  Isaac thought the woman in the bed appeared untroubled by her impending death. He saw the love between the three, and nodded as he reached for his bag. “This will render you unconscious. I have used it on your species before, and I do not believe it will affect the infant.” Isaac placed a pressure capsule against the inside of the woman’s unaffected arm.

  “Not yet, anyway,” the patient said with an almost smile.

  With a look to the other two, Isaac triggered the capsule and watched as the alien lost consciousness.

  Isaac laid out his surgical tools on the edge of the platform and UV-wanded the spread, his hands, and the patient’s arm. Attempting to work quickly and efficiently, Isaac twisted a strip of cloth around the highest point he could reach on the arm. He doubted the tourniquet would be necessary; previous experience with Sansheren taught him that they did not bleed profusely. Tourniquet secured, he placed an absorbing cloth under the arm and gave a silent curse at his lack of proper sterilizers. His one justification for not taking the patient to his makeshift hospital was his own diagnosis. He began the operation by inserting a drain tube into a small vein. He watched as the greenish-black blood dripped into a bowl placed on the floor.

  “If someone would hold the arm, I will begin.” He felt bad at asking the two spouses, but he could not perform the operation without assistance.

  “I would be honored.”

  The one Isaac was beginning to like moved to the bed and grasped the arm firmly at the joint. “Thank you,” Isaac said as he began to cut the flesh with a scalpel. With the bare bone exposed, Isaac moved the skin and muscle tissue up higher, and began the long task of sawing through. He noted that Sansheren had by far the thickest and strongest bones of the many species he had become proficient at treating. He had never seen a broken bone on one and would be surprised if he ever did.

  “They’re all surface veins,” he realized with a start as the saw blade reached the bone’s internal artery. Pressurized blood squirted past the blade to strike him in the face.

  “There is an artery supplying this, correct?” he half shouted as he wiped the hot, green blood out of his eyes.

  “The arteries connect through each joint. You have to work quickly and seal the end when you are done,” the one assisting said, with a startled glance to the older wife.

  “I thought so,” he muttered as he began sawing again. The hollow spot in the bone was surprisingly small, and he cut a wedge out of the bone to expose it. He shoved his finger into the gap to slow the bleeding as he tried to think of some way to seal the bone end. The realization came to him that the other half of the bone must contain the return vein.

  “Hand up the blue box,” he said, gesturing to his plaster cast kit. “Now open it, okay, green jar, put a large spoonful of the powder – that is a half a Faldebbian Croat’s weight worth – into the silver bowl. Yeah that thing. Okay, open the bottle and pour out just enough liquid to make a thick paste. Do not get it on your skin! Good, now mix it well. Now scoop it into that canister and connect the canister to the nozzle. Very good, hand it here. I will need a small circle of metal as well; perhaps a coin?” With his finger still in the hole, Isaac reached awkwardly for the canister.

  “How do I clean this?” the hostile spouse held out a small gold coin, cousin to the one he had been paid, and Isaac wondered if he should have charged them more.

  “The white canister contains a pressurized sterilization solution. Do not get it on yourself!” Isaac said, and realized he was shouting. “Your delicate skin would blister. Put the coin on that tray and I will pick it up after you spray it.” He could not turn far enough to see if the other was in danger of getting the spray on her-his skin.

  Isaac gave up on the gender issue and tried to devote his full attention to the patient.

  “I am surprised with your concern for me. Here is the coin.”

  The tray was held within his reach, yet Isaac had to pause at the softness of the voice. Shit, he thought, delicate – deleecate. For food or for sex. Damn language. He forced his internal monologue quiet as he prepared to shift his finger and put the coin in its place.

  “Hold the arm absolutely still! This has to work the first time.” He made eye contact with his drafted assistant and then moved quickly. The coin slid into the slot he cut and he began spraying the quickset cast solution over it. Within a moment, the coin was anchored, and Isaac was sawing feverishly at the bone. When the blood began to spurt anew from the cut, Isaac dropped the saw, grasped the arm lower down, and struggled to snap the bone against the platform rather than take the time to finish sawing through it.

  “I need another coin,” he said impatiently as he placed his thumb over the ragged hole.

  “My apologies; I should have foreseen your need and had one ready. My only excuse is that I was entranced by watching your efficient work.”

  Isaac was astounded as the formerly hostile woman appeared to flirt with him. It dawned on him that he still did not know who the husband among the three was. He knew he must be mistaken about the gender of at least one of them.

  “I, myself should have told you of my need. Your apology is unnecessary, though appreciated.” Watching the woman’s pleased blush, a greening as unmistakable as his own species’ reddening, he reminded himself to pay more attention the next time he and Tansea worked on language skills.

  Then he devoted his attention to finishing the operation without flattering either of the two again.

  Chapter Four - Earth - 1995

  “Turn it back on,” Morgan said when the strange guy turned off the movie she was watching. She knew he wasn’t supposed to be there; he had climbed in the window and then straightened the bookshelf and picked up her pen before turning to stare at her. The blaring commercial interruption caused him to walk over and unplug the small TV.

  “You’re awake?” Tim turned away from the television.

  “He’s going to kiss her soon. Turn it back on. Please.” Morgan’s voice was soft, and she decided she should be afraid, but the hollow
spot inside of her didn’t care.

  “You shouldn’t be watching that shit anyway. It rots your brain. What are you doing up so late on a school night, anyway? Your parents out or something?” Tim plugged the TV in, turned it on again and moved toward the couch.

  “I’m waiting for my roommate to get home. Are you hungry?” Morgan opened the pizza box beside her, and heard his stomach grumble as he stared at the large, barely touched, pizza.

  “Thanks,” Tim said and shoved a piece of pizza into his mouth. “Roommate?” he mumbled around a second bite and reached for another piece.

  “My parents are at home. Taiwan. I live here with a guy named Greg.” Morgan nervously turned her gaze to the TV, in time to see the kiss she anticipated.

  “He your brother or something?” Tim said, and Morgan felt the terror and pain flash across her face.

  “No.” Morgan tried to focus on the TV and block out the part of herself that still wanted to cry at night.

  And she watched his face. As he studied her, there was a quick flash of anger - not pity - before he closed his eyes for a moment. He moved to put his arm around her.

  “No,” Morgan said pulling away from him. She tried to keep herself facing him, watching him, and she saw the look of concern and tears in his eyes.

  Tim moved towards her slowly and held her in his arms.

  It took her a long time to begin crying.

  “It’s okay, I’m here. He hurt you, didn’t he? It’s okay; I promise. I won’t let him hurt you again,” Tim said, and Morgan allowed the youth she had just met to hold her as she sobbed against his chest. An hour later, before her roommate returned, Tim coaxed her into telling him about her first night in America.

  And Morgan fought the dream.

  Chapter Five - Bystocc - 2012

  “Hush, my Lady.” Neavillii’s attempts at reassurance penetrated.

  Morgan realized she was screaming aloud. She took a ragged breath and tried to smile at her friend. The smile died unborn, and she turned her eyes away, not wanting Tim’s face to fade away again, to be replaced by the older Sansheren beside her bed, but, even as she realized her reason for looking away, only Neavillii’s face remained.

  “I am okay,” Morgan said while still struggling for air. “I am.”

  Neavillii moved to sit beside her, and Morgan looked up into the Sansheren’s large brown and green eyes. Over an inch across, there was no clear delineation between their green pupils and brown iris.

  Morgan found herself falling into their dark green center and shook her head to clear the sensation.

  “Indeed. It would appear that you are better at least” Neavillii said, and smiled from the edge of the bed.

  Morgan forced herself to return the expression. “Thank you. I…,” Morgan paused, trying to release the emotions that choked her. “Thank you,” she ended with a feeling of bitter loss.

  “I will be in the next room should you want me, my Lady.” Neavillii patted Morgan’s bare arm once and stood to leave.

  “Wait!” Morgan found herself reaching out, capturing Neavillii’s hand. “I… I do not want to be alone. Stay, tonight.” Morgan held Neavillii’s hand tight as she spoke, but refused to meet the other woman’s gaze.

  “Tonight is almost over, my Lady. Perhaps it would be best if you rose now? We could feed early and begin your tour anew before the sun finishes rising,” Neavillii said and resisted her desperate pull.

  “Or we could sleep in and resume the tour when the afternoon heat has faded,” Morgan offered and again tried to smile as she finally met Neavillii’s larger eyes.

  “Indeed?” Neavillii answered, and resumed her seat on the side of the bed.

  “It is your decision, my love,” Morgan said as she reached out to stroke the soft orange fur on her friend’s shoulder. “I would not pressure you.”

  “’My love,’ she says. ‘Not wanting to pressure,’ she claims. I would enjoy this night, my Lady.” Neavillii laughed as she slid into the bed beside Morgan.

  “I did not mean to, that is, I did, but…”

  Neavillii silenced Morgan the way any lover should, with fingertips against her lips and a distraction somewhere else.

  #

  “I can still feel my fingers,” Isaac’s patient said in a bemused voice.

  Isaac moved past the other two and stood beside the bed. “Phantom nerves are common among many species after amputations,” he said. “It will fade with time…” his voice died as he looked away from the stained bandages and remembered his own diagnosis.

  “My wives tell me you worked with courage and skill,” the patient said sleepily. “Do not feel distressed for me. Eat with us and sleep with us; I would be very happy if you could take my place this night. I am very tired and do not feel up to my responsibility. Please, give me this honor.”

  Isaac thought about his Hippocratic Oath for a moment, but Earth was a lifetime away, and Tansea insisted that, with the Sansheren, the offer was literal. “It is I who am honored, though I, too, am exhausted and fear I would not do your lovely wives justice tonight.” The entire time he was talking, Isaac could see Tansea laughing at him in the morning.

  “You will want to send a message to your companion. I will take care of that and the meal.” The one who was friendly to him from the start bowed briefly and moved out of the room.

  “And I will arrange our bedroom for tonight, my strange alien doctor,” the second said with a shy bow of her head to Isaac, and left the room.

  “Aldera is enamored with you. Strange, I thought it would be Yolunu who courted you.” The tired amusement in his patient’s voice was contagious, and Isaac found himself having to fight a hysterical laugh. He sat on the bed, beside his patient, instead.

  “They never gave their names. Or yours, my friend.” Isaac leaned against the wall, and was hard-pressed not to show his surprise when his patient twisted to place her remaining hand on top of his thigh.

  “I am Numane.” The small hand stroked at his pant leg in an almost casual manner. “And I truly regret not being able to consummate our friendship.”

  Isaac found himself captivated by the claw fingers as they slid across his leg. “A regret we share.” Isaac leaned over the woman and kissed her bald forehead. The skin was soft, and he couldn’t see the orange coloring with his eyes closed. “Sleep now. You need to rest if you are to bear a strong child.” Isaac pulled the cover up and sat up as Yolunu entered the room.

  “She sleeps?” Yolunu asked, and Isaac looked again at his patient’s relaxed expression, before answering.

  “Yes. The rest will help strengthen her and her child,” he whispered, and shifted the limp hand off of his thigh and onto the bed. With a nodded bow, he stood and moved toward the door, indicating they should leave.

  “Aldera is still preparing our sleeping room. I have sent a message to your tent stating we are honored that you are joining us for the evening. I hope you will not find it presumptuous that I included another gold piece so that your companion could replace you tonight. It was our desire that caused her to miss your presence; we should pay, not you,” Yolunu said, and once more Isaac was forced to control his facial expression, using a second nodded bow to imply acceptance. “It shames me that we cannot provide you with an elegant meal, but you must be familiar with the difficulties involved in finding edible food.”

  Isaac thought about the planet they were on. “I am confident that your food will be more elegant than anything I have tasted in years. If I may be so bold as to inquire, what is your ranking in the withdrawal?” Isaac followed Yolunu from the hallway into another room.

  This one was empty of furniture; Aldera knelt in the middle rearranging a mound of pillows and blankets. Beside the makeshift bed was a cloth, on which were ten or twelve plates heaped with breads and dry meats. There were also several dirty glass bottles, whose contents he hoped were fermented.

  “When our beloved gifts us with her children, we will be placed at the head of the list. Undoubtedly w
e will leave within an hour of the parenthood,” Aldera said before she stood and bowed to both Isaac and Yolunu.

  Isaac found himself wondering about the structure of Sansheren families. Aldera seemed to be the junior member of this family even though she appeared to be much older than either spouse.

  “I was born of the House Sheresuan, and I think perhaps we will seek to claim kinship with the lovely arbitrator Morganea,” Yolunu said, and Isaac tried to ignore Aldera’s obvious surprise at Yolunu’s plans for their future. “Would you care to begin the meal with an intoxicant? I am pleased to hint at a surprise I have accomplished.”

  “I would love an intoxicant,” he said as he chose to sit beside Aldera.

  Yolunu moved to sit on Isaac’s other side. “The surprise I mentioned, a human drink, distilled wine I am told. A bit much for our metabolism, it was found in the ruins of Captain Timone’s bunker. I hope it is to your liking,” Yolunu said with a gesture to one of the bottles.

  Aldera lifted the bottle and poured a small, narrow glass full before handing it to Isaac.

  “Brandy!” Isaac gasped after taking a very satisfying swallow that drained half of the glass.

  “If it is not to your liking, I am sure we can find something else for you,” Aldera said as she reached toward his glass.

  Isaac shifted to place his entire body between her and his prize. “Oh, it is to my liking,” Isaac muttered as he felt the alcohol entering his bloodstream and he forced his concentration to translating from English to Sansheren via Tansea’s Grec-based language lessons. “I have not tasted anything this good since Earth. My final graduation to be exact; Becky Johnson and I got drunk in the music room and discovered the difference between um, fathers and daughters. That’s not right; between husbands and wives. The next morning I left to travel to military training with the worst hangover I ever had, before or since. I am afraid you will have to kill me to get this glass back.” Isaac took another large drink, emptying the glass, and felt the liquor burn all the way down. He knew he should eat something, so he reached out to pick up a piece of meat.