EMPATHY

BY

R.J. Eisenhuth

She hesitated before lifting the comlock, passing it from one hand to the other, looking at the blank screen for a second or two before pressing the correct combination of buttons, which would connect her to him. She knew he wanted to be alone. It had been a tragic day. Yet, she also knew he needed her, whether he was willing to admit it or not.

There were times when John Koenig's stubbornness, his need to be seen as more of a Commander than a man, got in the way of sound mental health. Others did not see it but she did. Helena was not certain if it was because she was a good doctor, an expert reader of the ailing, both physically and emotionally, or because she had known John long enough to read his moods and empathize with his on-going conflict.

The loss of Erickson, a talented pilot and a popular man amongst the other Alphans, appeared to disturb John more than usual. He always felt an inner silent pain whenever they lost a man or woman but this time it was his own command, deciding to use Erickson over Alan Carter, who was clearly the better pilot in this situation.

He had put the pilot in peril and, being a man of conscience, the Commander was second guessing himself. They all knew the score when it came to space exploration but could he have done more to safeguard the eager astronaut? Yes and no.

Despite precautionary measures, and a strong suggestion from his Commander that he be especially careful and avoid trouble, Erickson flew head-long into a meteor storm. They watched him on the Big Screen, urging him to pull out, but Erickson was stubborn. The last thing Command Center heard was the pilot's strained call for help then they saw his Eagle torn to pieces by fragments of heavy dead rock.

Koenig felt he should have known this might happen. Alan told him Erickson was unpredictable but John reminded his section chief that he recalled a certain Australian pilot that many also thought was rash but he was now an asset to the base – he and his often careless ways.

With the possible exception of Alan Carter, who gave his Commander a uncompromising stare when the Eagle disappeared from view, when Sandra's calls to silent space went unheeded, no one else put John at fault. They merely grieved.

However, it was Commander who made the decision to trust Erickson with the mission, as inexperienced and enthusiastic as he was, and he now knew he should not have been placed in the pilot's chair. Alan was right. The Commander's error had cost Erickson his life.

"He had something to prove and it cost him." Verdeschi summed up, regretfully. He glanced at John as he stood behind his desk, stunned as they all were. He knew where the Commander's thoughts were going. "He would not listen, John. No amount of experience would have changed his mind."

Maybe it was true but his second in command's words did not make Koenig feel any better. He felt the pain and guilt anyway. John Koenig closed his eyes, mentally beaten, and left Command Center.

Helena Russell sighed then touched the buttons on her comlock. "John?"

He was looking at her from the screen, the collar of his blue pajamas visible, his head resting into the top cushion of his bed. He looked at her with lackluster expression.

"Can I come in?" she asked.

"I won't be good company tonight, Helena."

"Let me in anyway."

He paused a moment then nodded.

She watched as the door parted and she walked inside.

In the dim glow of his late-night lighting, she saw he was reclining in bed, as she expected he would, and she did not wait for an invitation. Actually, it would not have mattered if he had asked her to leave. Helena knew a man in need when she saw him and when that man was her lover she wasn't about to abandon him, despite his demeanor. Yet, here and now, he did not need nor would he appreciate her analyzing him.

Purposely, she moved to his dresser where she kept a set of her own pajamas then, with them in her hands, Helena disappeared into his bathroom to wash and change.

They hadn't spent much time together lately and last week they planned, knowing both had this evening free, to get "reacquainted" as John had friskily said. Neither knew what would eventually transpire when they made that arrangement and as Helena brushed her hair, looking at herself in the bathroom mirror, she wondered if she was not being selfish, thinking he needed her company even though John clearly said he wanted solitude.

Well, it was too late now. She was going to push forward and show him support even if he did not want it. Helena put the brush down, tightened the belt on her own nightwear, and walked from the bathroom.

John had changed position on the bed. His back was now to her, a clear indication that he was not up to entertaining anyone. He had warned her, after all.

Helena turned down the already dimmed lighting and nodded quietly to herself as she crawled in next to him, spooning John, placing her hands on his shoulders and firmly massaging his tense muscles. She could feel him loosen up despite his pigheadedness and his breathing evening out. Helena thought he had fallen asleep and she was grateful she could help him.

But then he carefully moved position to lay on his back and invited her into his arms, holding Helena and taking strength from her willingness to make him feel better. She softly reached up and touched his face, feeling moisture on his cheek. She craned her neck and kissed his neck gently.

Few knew their Commander could cry, occasionally feeling a total lack of confidence, their small world pushing in on him. He needed someone to hold him, showing that despite it all he was loved and respected. Loyalty.

Even during a time like this, when the couple said nothing but spoke volumes with their touch and consideration, Helena knew his needs and that only she could help him. She understood they were strong together. John Koenig was one of the most courageous and self-sacrificing men she had ever known and she loved him for his kindness and reliability in a situation where nothing was consistent.

It was also lovely knowing he loved her too, had told her of his adoration more than once, and it was clear that his future was with her. And they both laughed once upon a time when he said that it took the moon to find the woman of his dreams.

Helena wondered what it would have been like to know him on Earth. She often fantasized about the life they might have had together in New York, Chicago or even in London, where she had lived with Lee. But that fantasy, the dream possibility, was long gone. As was the Earth – their one-time home – and now all they could do was look to the future where one day, if everything came together, all of their people would eventually find a new world to live on.

Paradise. Would it ever come?

Alone together, they privately had misgivings. But she and John still had faith – a deep longing – that it could come. And what a day that would be!

Meanwhile in the present, as long as John Koenig required her assistance and presence, felt uncertainty and torment in his ability to command his people, she would be there for him. Helena would show him he was needed by her and – yes – all of the Alphans. She truthfully wondered what might have become of Moonbase Alpha if it was commanded by a lesser human being. Would the moon and its people have died a slow and pathetic death long ago? "Thank God for you, John Koenig." Helena whispered.

She heard his even breathing as he now slept, having never heard her praise, and she was content.

In the morning, when they both awakened, he would want her in a different way. John would kiss her and touch her with a profound desire and gentle demanding. He would once again marvel at her softness and how they fit so perfectly together. He would gain control of himself through his love for her.

Helena had seen his burgeoning confidence from the ashes before and she would be more than willing, wanting him with equal fervor, to bring him dominion through intimacy. She would worship John Koenig with all of his secretive doubts and reservations, and she would – with touch and the magic of her body - make him whole again.

John Koenig would move on, knowing he had purpose, and Helena would grasp, even if no one else did, that it was her presence that brought him back to life.

"Perhaps I am selfish." she thought with a weary smile, "But it's earned."

And here and now, closing her eyes, her head on his shoulder, Helena Russell did not want to be anywhere else but held in her lover's arms, both sleeping and dreaming the dreams of loyal visionaries.

The moon, with all its brave yet imperfect people, moved further into deep space.

The End

October 2017