Authors: Margaret Weis
Derek was right.
Platus didn't belong.
. . . you that
do abet him . . . Cherish rebellion and are rebels all.
William
Shakespeare,
Richard II
, Act II, Scene 3
"I really
shouldn't permit this," the doctor said. "Her Royal
Highness's time is very close at hand. I would prefer she remain
completely undisturbed."
Maigrey strongly
considered grabbing the man by the lapels of his sterile white coat
and hurling him through the steelglass window. She controlled
herself, with an effort. "I should have been informed."
"Semele
wouldn't allow it, Maigrey," said Augustus Starfire, Crown
Prince. "Besides, what could you have done, off fighting the
Corasians?"
"Her
condition isn't that serious," the doctor snapped. "Bleeding
like this isn't uncommon. Her Royal Highness has been restricted to
her bed to prevent any major complications, and consequently there
have been none. She has brought the pregnancy to full term. The baby
is healthy, Her Royal Highness is well . . . or she will be, if she
is allowed to rest. "
"I won't
stay long. I only want to visit with her for a few moments. She's my
best friend. We haven't seen each other in months. I'll be leaving
for my next tour of duty tomorrow."
"I've
spoken to my wife." This from Augustus Starfire, looking to the
doctor as one might look to a god. "She is feeling much better
today and thinks that a visit from the Lady Maigrey would do her
good. She promises not to tire herself. The delivery's going to be
tonight.' The prince reported the last in an undertone to Maigrey.
"I didn't
say that for certain," the doctor rasped in acerbic tones,
overhearing.
"But surely
with all this modern technological equipment you've got"—Maigrey
gestured at numerous blinking screens keeping track of the patient's
progress—"you could tell—"
"Lady
Maigrey," the doctor interrupted. "We can travel faster
than the speed of light. We can genetically alter life. We can
destroy each other with remarkable skill and efficiency. But babies
still come when they're damn good and ready. Mother Nature's been at
her job for thousands of years and it's my belief that the less we
interfere with her, the better off everyone will be."
"Semele
should be in the hospital," Maigrey pronounced.
"My lady,
when you have completed eight years of medical school and have served
your internship and residency, I will then welcome your medical
opinion. You may visit her," the doctor added magnanimously,
perhaps by way of emphasizing his authority, "but remain only
fifteen minutes."
"'Thus
saith the Lord,'" Maigrey whispered to the crown prince, who
responded with a nervous giggle.
Maigrey had
forgotten Augustus's unfortunate tendency to giggle when he was keyed
up and excited. Ordinarily, she thought it funny; she and Semele had
teased him about it unmercifully when they were all in the Academy
together. This evening, that high-pitched snigger grated on her
nerves. She left him discussing breathing exercises with the doctor,
and quietly entered the door to Semele's bedchamber.
Her first
thought was that they hadn't needed to take Semele to the hospital
because they'd brought the hospital to Semele. Fewer machines were
needed to pilot a starship! Everything was so changed, she hardly
knew where she was and paused, feeling suddenly ill at ease. The room
smelled strongly of disinfectant, an odor so cold that not even the
hothouse perfume of numberless bouquets of flowers could warm it. For
a moment, Maigrey regretted that she'd come.
A head with dark
tousled hair, lying on a pillow, turned from staring out a
beautifully curtained window.
"Maigrey!"
a well-remembered voice cried.
Suddenly her
friend's bedroom returned to Maigrey as she had remembered it. She no
longer saw the machines, she saw the damask-covered, hand-carved
chairs and sofas, the end tables decorated by porcelain figurines
frozen in time and lace-edged petticoats, dancing to silent minuets.
Hand-embroidered tapestries, silken threads woven into tales of
romance, shimmered on the walls, handwoven carpets adorned polished
wooden floors.
Feeling at home,
more at home than she'd felt in a long, long time, Maigrey crossed
the spacious room to where her friend lay in a hospital bed, guarded
by the machines and a machinelike nurse.
"You may
leave us," Her Royal Highness said, dismissing the nurse as she
might have dismissed her lady-in-waiting.
The nurse
appeared dubious. Her Royal Highness was resolute, and the nurse
compromised by removing her white-uniformed presence to a sofa on the
other side of the room and turning on a vid.
"She's not
a bad sort, really," Semele said, smiling up at Maigrey. "She's
been telling me all the gossip from the hospital. You'd be amazed at
the things a man and woman can do in a linen closet!"
Maigrey couldn't
reply. Secretly shocked at the sight of her friend, she found it
difficult to speak. Semele's vibrant beauty had made her one of the
most sought-after women in the galaxy. Small and fragile, she lay in
the mechanical monster of a bed that seemed to have swallowed her.
Semele's flawless white skin, celebrated by the bad poets of the age,
was now wan and translucent. Her lustrous black hair was limp and
lifeless, the sheen gone.
"Ah, I can
see by your face you're going to scold me, Maigy." Semele caught
hold of her friend's hand in a mock pleading gesture. "Don't be
mad because I didn't let them tell you. The fate of the galaxy
depended on you, my dear. Who am I compared to that?" Semele's
brown eyes were as warm and lively as ever, with a joy bubbling up
from deep within.
Maigrey,
somewhat reassured, made herself comfortable on the edge of the bed.
"Who are you—only Her Royal Highness, princess of the
aforesaid galaxy, and about to give birth to the heir to the throne.
And I'll never forgive you for not letting me know you weren't well,"
she added, giving the hand, whose fingers sparkled with exquisite
jewels, a playful smack.
"Don't be
mean to me, Maigy," Semele said with a laughing pout. "Here
you are, tall and slender, all dressed up, going to a banquet with
the most scrumptious food, drinking champagne and dancing, while fat
and dumpy old me is stuck in this godawful contraption of a bed,
doing nothing—"
"—except
having a baby. ..." Maigrey tried not to notice how thin and
white her friend's hand was.
"Just
between ourselves, my dear, I'd rather be dancing."
"Liar!"
Maigrey smiled at her.
"Maybe I
am." Semele smiled back, her happiness bringing a glow of health
to the pale complexion. "You look lovely tonight, Maigy. Blue is
your color. It sets off your hair and reflects in your eyes. You
should wear blue all the time."
"I shall
personally instruct Commander Sagan to requisition blue battle armor
to match my eyes," Maigrey teased.
"Laugh,
wicked thing. You do look extremely pretty. Some special reason? A
newly appointed young general wouldn't happen to be attending the
banquet, would he?"
"John—that
is, General Dixter—wasn't invited to the dinner. It's only for
the Guardians, as you knew before you brought the subject up."
"That
doesn't mean he can't come by afterward," Semele prodded.
"If you
must know, he's going to meet me.later. We're going out to celebrate
his promotion."
"You look
so stunning, it will be a shock to the poor man. He's probably never
seen you out of uniform. Well, maybe he has"—her eyes
glinted mischievously—"but I mean in a dress."
"Semele!
How can you say such a thing?" Maigrey felt her cheeks burn.
"Prudery
from a woman whose foul language gave Lady Rouncewell palpitations of
the heart. I heard about that. She cornered poor Augustus in the hall
and repeated every word at least twice. Why don't you say yes to him,
Maigy?"
"To
Augustus? I would, but I hear he has a hellcat for a wife. ..."
"I mean
John Dixter, and since when have I ever been anything but a perfect
lady? He longs to marry you—"
"Longs to
'cherish and protect.' " Maigrey sighed.
"That can
be very pleasant, dear friend," Semele said, with a smiling
glance at a portrait of her husband on a little table near her bed.
"For you,
Semele, not for me. He hates space flight. I can't live without it.
One of us would have to sacrifice happiness for the other and
consequently we'd both be miserable. Besides, I can't say yes to a
question that's never been asked."
"I don't
believe it! He's never asked you to marry him?"
"No. Like
the ancient saying, my dear—what man truly wants to put his
boots under a warrior-woman's bed?"
"From what
I hear, Derek Sagan's boots aren't always on his feet," Semele
said archly.
Maigrey, face
flushed, stood up. "I think I better be going. . .
"Maigy,
don't be mad! I've been trapped in this bed for four months! Gossip
is my only form of recreation! Of course, I heard all about that time
you two were stranded on that uncharted planet—
"My plane
had a computer malfunction. We spent the night fixing it,"
Maigrey mumbled, blushing furiously.
"I suppose
that sounds more plausible than running out of gas. ..."
Semele's face grew suddenly serious. She clasped the hand she held
tightly. "You don't love him, do you, Maigy?"
"Why is
everyone so concerned about my relationship with Derek Sagan?"
Maigrey demanded irritably, reminded of her uneasiness, her disquiet.
But she let herself be pulled back down onto the bed. "What if I
do love him? He's one of the most admired, respected men in the
galaxy—"
"He's also
one of the most feared, the most disliked," Semele said crisply,
pushing herself to a sitting position. "Slide that pillow under
my back. Thanks. Drat! There's the nurse, frowning at me, starting to
come over here! I'm all right! Really! Go away! Shoo!"
The nurse,
looking severe, returned to her vid program.
Semele crossed
her hands over her swollen abdomen and fixed Maigrey with a pleading
gaze. "I know you admire and respect him, Maigy, but don't
mistake those feelings for love. You're close enough to him already
with that horrid mind-link thing. Don't get any closer."
The flush had
faded from Maigrey's cheeks. Her skin felt cold. She didn't look at
her friend, but stared out the window at the setting sun.
"Maigy,
he'll only bring you grief! He's incapable of love. He's cold,
passionless—"
"Passionless?"
Maigrey murmured, almost to herself.
"Well,
maybe not passionless," Semele amended, "but he certainly
controls his passions like no man
I've
ever known. I remember
him at school, the first year I came to the Royal Academy for Men to
study advanced mathematics. I was sixteen—"
"—and
incredibly beautiful," Maigrey said, turning her fond gaze back
to her friend, trying to entice her into changing the subject.
"Everybody who looked at you fell in love with you."
"Except
one," Semele said emphatically, refusing to be steered from her
course. "Every time Derek Sagan looked at me I had the feeling
he was mentally calculating my worth in terms of the breakdown of the
chemical components of my body! And we are, as you know, about ninety
percent water."
Reminded
pleasantly of days not long gone by, Maigrey couldn't help but laugh.
"He was raised in a monastery, after all—" she said
in a low tone, feeling her cheeks flush again.
"That
doesn't mean anything! He came to be born, didn't he? And while it
may have been a religious experience for his father, from what I've
heard his mother
wasn't
visited by a heavenly angel. ..."
"Semele!"
Maigrey was scandalized. "You're going to give
me
palpitations of the heart!"
"At least
you can tell me how he was ... at fixing your computer, of course,"
Semele said demurely.
Maigrey stood
up. "I'm leaving."
"All right,
all right, dear. The excitement of hearing about such a torrid affair
probably wouldn't be good for me, anyway. No, please don't go! I'm
finished. You've had your lecture for the evening. What can you
expect from an old married woman, anyway?"
"But it
really is time for me to leave, dear. Doctor God Almighty said
fifteen minutes, and I'm afraid he'll strike me down with a lightning
bolt if I disobey."
"But you
haven't told me one dirty joke yet, and you know you're the only one
who ever tells me—" Semele caught her breath; the hand
holding Maigrey's tightened its grasp. She reached around to massage
her back.
"Contraction?"
Maigrey asked.
"Yes, dear.
Just a twinge. It's early yet."
"I'm
staying with you, then. The banquet can get on fine without me—"
"And you
one of the guests of honor? Leaving a gap at the head table? Jeoffrey
would hunt you down and stab you with a salad fork. Run along. This
is just the beginning. First baby. I'll probably be at this for
hours."
"They're
giving you something for the pain, aren't they?"
"This from
a woman who fought for three hours with a broken arm and never told
anyone until the battle was over!" Semele sniffed. "Uh-oh.
These damn machines have snitched on me. Here comes nurse
and
the doctor
and
Augustus. I hope my poor husband lives through
this. He fainted during childbirth classes."
Maigrey leaned
down, kissed her friend on the forehead.
"Frightened?"
she whispered.
Semele lifted
radiant eyes. "No, Maigy. Only happy. So very happy." She
put her hand on her stomach. "My son will be born this night! My
son!"