Chances Taken

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One time.

One frelling time!

She blamed it on the heat of the moment. She had forgotten to think. Got caught up in the circumstances. Was tense, aggravated, needed the release. Got lost in his attentions, in what he was doing with his hands and mouth. Forgot to listen to the little voice inside that told her to be careful. Sometimes it was hard to remember everything, in this, her third life. Hard to remember she had once been a prowler pilot, before a man from the other side of the universe told her she could be more. Hard to remember the cycles she had spent with that man and the others aboard a living ship called Moya, fugitives running from her own kind.

Stunned by the current day’s turn of events, she sat on one of two chairs in the tiny examination room and stared at the floor. Merleah, community midwife and a good friend of Cerric, entered the room.

Aeryn looked up, a mix of hope and dread evident in her eyes, “The test results - they must be in error. I can’t…”

“Aeryn,” Merleah smiled, seating herself on the other chair. “At your request, I’ve run the test three times. The result was the same each time. Positive.” She patted Aeryn’s knee. “You know, the majority of my patients are quite happy with the results the first time.”

“I guess I am not in the majority then, am I?”

“No, my dear, you are not,” the older woman chuckled. “This does explain some of the symptoms you have been concerned about - irritability and moodiness, nausea…”

“Irritable and moody - I believe if you ask some of the local residents, they would say I’ve been pregnant since my arrival,” Aeryn confided. ‘Some more than others,’ she thought.

Merleah laughed, pleased that this serious young woman felt comfortable enough in her presence to make a small joke at her own expense. “It’s been over 40 cycles now, right?” she asked.

Aeryn nodded. She heard the unspoken ‘and still not happy, still returning to the Barren planet every cycle’. She knew Merleah knew. They all knew. But she did not care what they thought. The trips kept her sane. Kept her memories alive.

Cerric knew. Knew that if she found that opening in the mist, she would be gone. He never accompanied her, never stopped her from going. But his relief was palpable when she returned. He stood ready to comfort her, hold her, even leave her alone if that was what she wanted. The man possessed infinite patience, a trait that endeared him to her, and occasionally drove her crazy.

Cerric had been among the first group of people she encountered after her transport pod landed on the barren planet, knocked off course by the mist into which Moya had fled to avoid being detected by Peacekeepers. The local inhabitants of the favored planet had welcomed her into their midst, but her first cycles in their community had been a long drawn-out nightmare. Angry and miserable, feeling like a caged lorthus, she spent all of her time trying to find a way to return to Moya, trying to get off the planet and out of the system, but to no avail.

She scoured the meager repositories that held the planet’s history, looking for anything that might give her a clue to the turn of events that left her stranded. She talked at length with older members of the community. They provided her with fragments of stories they had heard as children, stories that spoke of the mist and of the arrival of strangers in the planet’s past. The mist was said to open up at regular intervals to reveal their solar system. The stories were vague, passed down from one generation to the next. There was no guarantee that they had any basis in fact.

Gradually, with help from a handful of individuals from the community and a determination she had learned as a peacekeeper soldier, she had to come to terms with the situation, accepting the fact that she was stuck. She quickly picked up the skills necessary to be a productive member of the group, but never gave up her quest to leave, visiting the barren planet every cycle, hoping that some day the mist would reopen.

During those early cycles of uncertainty, Cerric had always been there. Always ready. Always giving. Selfless. They had become very good friends. Cycles after the death of his first wife, Cerric had actually summoned up the courage to ask her to marry him. She couldn’t think of a reason not to. They worked well together and built a mutually satisfying partnership. Then this happened.

“What do I do now?” she asked Merleah.

“Take care of yourself. Eat nutritious and balanced meals. Some mothers-to-be find that eating smaller amounts more often helps with the nausea. Exercise. Rest. Basically, continue to do what you have been doing, what you’ve always done. But you may want to start wearing looser clothing,” Merleah grinned. “Personally, I cannot wait to see Cerric’s reaction. When you came to me before your wedding, and asked for methods of prevention, I believed that the two of you would remain childless. He and Laran never were able to conceive a child, you know.”

“Yes, I know. She told me.” Aeryn remembered Laran with fondness. She had been as good a friend as Cerric. She rose from her seat. “Thank you for your time. I must be going.” The walls were starting to close in and her mind was consumed with the knowledge that something was growing inside of her.

“You are most welcome, my dear,” Merleah said as she escorted Aeryn to the door. “Do not hesitate to come and see me if you have questions or concerns, or just need to talk. I am not a grouchy old lady, contrary to some folks’ opinions.”

Aeryn bravely tried to smile, but her heart was not in it. Her mind was a jumble of thoughts and feelings and she felt an urgent need to get out of the room, to get some fresh air, to walk and think and try to sort things out.

She left Merleah’s home and walked along the tree-lined road toward the house she shared with Cerric. She did not notice the beauty of the multi-colored vegetation against the hue of the cloudless sky. She did not hear the squawking of the varieties of bird life as they took to the wing at her approach. She did not turn down the path that would take her inside the house, but rather kept walking, past the house, past the shed, past the garden, past the new barn that housed their domestic beasts, arriving at last at the old pole barn that occupied a back corner of the property.

She pushed the door open, ignoring the protests of the rusty hinges. Part of her mind said she should oil those hinges and another part wondered why the frell she cared. Moya’s transport pod sat there, waiting. She climbed inside, seeking comfort in the familiarity of its walls, barely noticing the zeccan plant that had taken over, sending its tendrils throughout the interior.

Sinking into a corner, she stared unseeingly at the pod’s walls. She was pregnant. She carried a child. She felt numb, could summon no energy to curse the heavens. There was no rage inside, only - fear. Fear of the unknown. She put her head in her hands and the tears flowed down her cheeks, dripped onto her shirt. This was nothing like any life she had envisioned for herself. She longed to fly her prowler. She longed to be aboard Moya with Crichton and D’Argo and the others. She wept for lost friends and lost chances and uncertain futures.

How long she remained in her hunched over position, she wasn’t sure. Suddenly she was aware that she was not alone. She lifted her tear-streaked face to find Cerric standing there.

“Aeryn. May I come in?” Polite to a fault.

Aeryn swiped at her face, and sniffed, wishing she had something with which to wipe her nose. Cerric handed her his kerchief and sat down next to her, close but not touching.

“Did Merleah tell you?” she asked, blowing her nose.

“I haven’t seen Merleah,” he answered. “When I came home to the dark house, I just assumed you were either here - or out on the hill.”

Aeryn shook her head. “You are so incredibly, unbelievably patient. So understanding. Sometimes that makes me very angry.”

“I’m glad I make you feel something,” Cerric replied but his voice was gentle and he was smiling. “Now. What is so awful that made you come here? What would Merleah have told…” he froze in mid-sentence. “Aeryn? Are you - are we - ?”

Aeryn could only nod.

“A child? You are going to have a child? My child?” The pitch of Cerric’s voice rose as he spoke. Aeryn was amazed at the excitement in her husband’s voice, the joy that radiated from his face. He threw his arms around her and hugged her. She remained stiff, quiet. He noticed. Leaning back, he searched her face, hazel eyes filled with concern. “Ah. This is not happy news for you, is it?”

“Cerric, you know I care for you a great deal. You helped make life bearable for me on this planet,” Aeryn spoke softly, carefully, searching for words that would explain and not hurt. “But I - I am so scared. I don’t think I can do this. I don’t know the first thing about carrying a child, much less, becoming a mother!”

Cerric thought for a moment. “I believe that this is a normal reaction. But you are not alone. I have never been a father, either,” he replied matter-of-factly. They fell silent for many microts. The only sound in the pod was the sound of their breathing, and the occasional hiccough that Aeryn could not stifle. Finally, Cerric turned to her, “You have come so far - have adapted to this way of life so well. I have no doubt that, if you set your mind to it, you will make a good mother.”

Some of Cerric’s optimism flowed into Aeryn and she allowed herself to be comforted by his presence and his words. Yes, she had adapted to many things on this planet. She could feel Cerric’s joy at the thought of having a child. She could not remember ever doing anything for him that brought him so much happiness. She sighed. Perhaps this was a way to return his often-unrequited love. “This will not be as easy as learning to garden,” she pointed out. “I have never considered the possibility of a situation like this before.”

“Peacekeepers - you have told me that they have to be prepared for anything, right? Meet all challenges head-on, you said. Well, consider this a challenge - one that can be met - together.” Cerric pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. She felt his grin grow wider. He sat back again, looked at her. “So this is the result of our late night dip in the lake? The night we took our chances?”

Aeryn nodded. “One time. It was only one frelling time!”

“Oh, but what a delightful frelling time it was,” Cerric whispered, remembering, a sparkle of laughter in his eyes.

Aeryn smiled in spite of herself and Cerric took her hands in his, giving each of them a gentle squeeze and a kiss.

“It will be alright,” he said. “You will see. I told you before. I believe I have enough love for all of us.”


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wiscaper

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