Distant Shores - Marco Palmieri [137]
Before I realized what I was saying, I said, “Thank you. I promise you that I won’t be in your way.”
Until that moment, Mareeza believed-at least, she gave me every indication that she believed-that I was just as much flesh and blood as she was. If we shared a domicile, there would be no choice but to tell her who-or, more specifically, what-I was.
However, Mareeza also was going to need monitoring through the rest of her pregnancy, and I was the only logical person to do it. If helping her required expanding my programming “on the fly,” then so be it. My program has adapted before.
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OCTOR’S
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- Stardate 53501.3051834291
Day 158
The Terrina and Central Protectorates signed a peace treaty today. Protector Baracin signed it from his hospital bed. Hopefully, this means we won’t see any more missiles flying. The hospital is overburdened with injured and the dying. I’m not sure we could handle any more wounded.
Central Protectorate’s Air Command did what is being called an excellent job of bombing the Terrinans in retaliation for missile attacks. The final death toll from all of the attacks-Terrinan and Central casualties combined-was 2,752 lost. All we can do is continue the process of rebuilding.
I must cut this short. I’m needed at the hospital. There are too many patients, and not nearly enough staff. I never thought I’d be in the position to tend to so many patients at once. Fortunately, I don’t tire.
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OCTOR’S
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- Stardate 53501.3083000479
Day 253
Mareeza gave birth today. After everything she’s endured, the delivery was both quick and easy. I was finally able to compensate for the low amniotic fluid with a successful, if basic, transcervical amnioinfusion. It took longer to be effective than I’d like, but it eventually worked.
The baby was a little boy. As I expected after Mareeza’s bout with gestational diabetes, he had a mild case of macrosomia. The excess weight didn’t appear to have damaged the baby’s pancreas too much, though. Perhaps we’d managed to catch it in time. It was certainly going to require monitoring to keep the baby from developing diabetes as he aged.
However, when Mareeza was able to hold him for the first time, none of that seemed to matter. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the kind of joy I saw on Mareeza’s face at that moment, although the look on Ensign Wildman’s face when she first held Naomi might have been close. Mareeza had the baby boy that she’d wanted.
In an odd turn of events, the nurse asked me for the baby’s name. I had no idea. I asked Mareeza what she wanted to name the child, and all she did was give me that same beatific smile. “That’s your choice, Aeson,” she said. “The father always names the child, remember?”
Frankly, I didn’t remember, but I was long past the point of confusion. “Mareeza, I’m not- “
She gave me an unquestioning gaze. “Don’t you dare. Aeson, you’ve been far more of a father to this child than anyone could be. I wouldn’t be holding him if it weren’t for you. He may not be your son by biology. But, in every other way, you’re the reason for his existence. You’ve been dedicated to his well-being since before I was able. I would hope that dedication won’t stop now that he’s born.”
Virtually every coping subroutine I had failed at that one. I wanted to say, “But I could be taken away at any moment.” All that came out was, “But- “
“I know,” she said. “I know you can’t be here for him forever. All we could possibly ask is for as long as you can.”
I couldn’t deny that having someone there to care for the child so Mareeza could work would be best. However, that could just as easily have been done by a nanny.
I’ve been trying to ignore the prospect of fatherhood for the last quadmester of Mareeza’s pregnancy. While my database contains all that it is necessary to know about pediatric care and child development, I don’t think my attempt at a holographic family properly prepared me for this. Who knows if this little