Wisps of Gillian's hair fluttered in the breeze, whipping against her forehead. The boat rose and fell with the swell of the waves and the salt smell of the ocean filled her nostrils. Her eyes were closed and she let the familiar sound and scent of the ocean relax her. She needed to let go of stress and think. So many problems crowded through her mind. If she could make a decision and stick with it, she could move onto the next problem.
She was considering handing in her notice at her job. She had put in for maternity leave but wasn't sure she would go back. Once she left the Cetacean Institute, she would never get her job back. Places were so competitive. There were a limited number of whales and a lot of people who wanted to work with them. Competition exceeded the level for Star ship captaincy. Most of her interns were only here for six months and the grad students were also expected to get their work done as fast as possible and leave to let someone else have a turn. Cetacean biology had always been a job you took for the love of it, not to make money. Millions of grant dollars had flowed through her hands but very little of it had been paid to her in wages. Now, she received no pay at all. With her student stipend, she hadn't known no one else was getting paid until she had finished her doctorate. She did receive her allotments of course, which she would get even if she did nothing. Food, power, basic clothing, housing and unlimited medical care were hers as they were everyone's. General credits were only required to pay for luxuries, not the necessities.
She had been plagued by an odd sense of dissatisfaction with her life for the past few years. It had taken a while to work out why. There had always been a sense of purpose to her job, the knowledge that she was doing something useful with her life, making a difference, a positive difference to the planet. That had changed since she came forward, but it took her a while to notice. Updating her education was interesting but she was always keen to be finished, she had hated being the junior again and thought getting another doctorate would fix it. By then she was involved in her research, which had enthralled her. Finding success where others had failed. Cetacean biology was a cutting edge field when she joined. There was so much still to learn. With all the probes and sensors nowadays, scientists could extract so much information at an amazing rate. They knew all there was to know about whales now. Charts to ensure proper genetic diversity had been drawn up. The whale population was booming with the floating artificial uterus Scotty helped design. She was marking time in her job and had been for a while, she just hadn't realised it while she had the hybridisation to keep her occupied. She looked at Carol, doing real research and envied her.
If she knew what she wanted, it would be easier, but for the first time in her life she didn't. It was a strange feeling. She was five when her father had taken her on a fishing trip. She had watched, enthralled as a pod of whales had played around the boat. She'd known since then what she wanted out of life. She'd had a clear goal and had put all her efforts toward attaining it. Once she'd achieved, it the self-evident new goal of updating her education had replaced it. She'd wanted Spock too, and he had fallen into her hands with little effort on her part. She still didn't know how she had gotten so lucky.
How had that situation gotten so out of hand? Her beautiful, blissful marriage that she had thought so strong was tattered and broken, due to her own actions. She had been selfish, wanting her own way, but had truly believed that Spock wanted children too. They'd been so happy, only the long separations marring their marriage and those were due to stop soon. Nothing had gone the way she had planned and she worried that she had ruined everything in her quest for perfection. What should have been a joyous occasion had devolved into a huge fight. Every time she thought about it, anger filled her. She was keeping the bond closed as much as she could, it had to be her anger and fear she was feeling, not Spock's. Jim and Leonard were connected to her through Spock, so they should not be affecting her. She couldn't think straight and it was infuriating. Jim had promised to deal with Spock, approach him when he was calmer and explain.
She sighed and a cramp tore through her abdomen, wrenching a cry from her lips. She clutched at her bump and bent forward in an attempt to ease the pain. Terry rushed out of the recording room and grabbed her arm. "Gillian, what's wrong?" The contracted muscles of her uterus relaxed and the pain eased. "Contraction," she gasped. "I need a doctor." Terry nodded and flipped open her communicator, calling for emergency services, while guiding Gillian to the bench seat. Gillian sank into its cushioned surface, trying not to panic. The contraction had subsided but the lower back ache she'd had since this morning had not. Fear washed through her in a cold wave. Not again. She didn't think she could stand it again. Panic threatened to overcome her, but she pushed it back. Action was what she needed. She checked the marital bond, pulling it closed. Spock didn't need to know this, he was worried enough. She could feel him occasionally when her shields faltered, on waking or falling asleep. At a loss for anything else to do, she stared out at the ocean as it passed by and watched Gracie breach in the distance. She let the bond between them open wide, letting acceptance flow over her. Gracie wasn't human, she had an animalistic way of dealing with things. Bad things happened and there was nothing she could do about them. It was the antithesis of the way Gillian's mind worked. She bent the world to her will on a regular basis. In this case however, she was helpless to do anything to affect the outcome. Her only course of action was to keep Spock from becoming distressed by what she had done. She gripped Terry's hand with hers as the other woman patted her and mouthed encouragement. "It's okay, it was only one contraction. It was probably nothing." Meaningless words, although she appreciated the attempt.
The Chief Medical Officer, Dr Arndt, stepped through the door at the end of the section of the research vessel, followed by a two nurses and a couple of grad students. She strode up the deck to where Gillian was reclining, medical tricorder already in hand. She stood over her, letting the scanners work. Her face assumed a more professional mask as she read the display and Gillian's blood ran cold. "Dr Taylor, there is evidence labour has begun, despite the fact that you are only twenty three weeks into your pregnancy." She turned to address the nurses. "Carry Dr Taylor to sickbay, don't let her walk." He injected Gillian with a hypo as the nurses set up the float bed and the three of them lifted her onto it. Despite these precautions, a new contraction started to curl through her. It stopped at half the intensity of the previous one and Gillian managed not to scream. They laboured over her, talking in hushed voices of the readings and their meanings. Each new contraction was smaller and further apart than the previous one but she could tell that the prognosis wasn't good. Dr Arndt had stopped the labour but determined that the cause was her body rejecting the alien child. Hours of uncertainty later, she was sent by emergency shuttle to the hospital at the Vulcan Embassy. The majority of Vulcans who had business on Earth stayed at one of the Embassies so that was where the finest Vulcan doctors served.
She lay in the hospital at the Vulcan Embassy, covered by a thin sheet. The air was hot, although they had turned the gravity down for her. The room remained silent, only the low buzzing of machinery audible, to her anyway. She had read the details of her medical condition and turned the facts over in her head. She still had time to make her decision.
The door opened with a soft swish and she turned her head to see T'Pau and her First Attendant T'Lind enter the room. Two bodyguards dressed in those ridiculous Vulcan uniforms placed a chair beside the bed and took up positions outside the door. T'Pau enthroned herself on the chair with the slender T'Lind standing in attendance behind her left shoulder. As usual, both women were dressed in formal Vulcan attire, long robes overdecorated with embroidery and ornamentation, with their hair bound up in intricate braided hairstyles. T'Lind was only a few years younger than Spock but she looked much younger, her face was unlined, if plain and severe, her straight hair a dull brown.
"Greetings, Matriarch," said Gillian. "I hope you will forgive me for not kneeling, I am under Healer's orders." T'Pau nodded, dismissing the formalities. "An apology under the circumstances is not logical and therefore not required," was the monotone reply. "I wish to read your medical files." Surprise flicked through Gillian, she assumed the old dragon already had, her authority appeared to be total within the clan. "Okay," she said and when T'Lind offered her the PADD, she initialled it, giving T'Pau authorisation. She wondered what qualifications T'Pau had before she became Matriarch.
She was still deciding between lawyer and healer when T'Pau placed the PADD back in T'Lind's hands. "What are your plans for further treatment?" she inquired.
"I haven't decided yet," she admitted. "It's a hard decision. It would be easier if there was an obvious answer." She expected T'Pau would tell her to 'selectively reduce' the second baby. It would give her the child she had tried for after all. The second baby had been one of her early failures, not expected to develop beyond a few weeks. He had kept clinging to life with determination though. Once he was an embryo, it was legal for her to use several techniques which she couldn't use when he was a zygote. She had performed further manipulation, in the end conceding and putting back the genes which influenced pon farr. They were intricately linked not just with Vulcan's psychic powers but also with the immune system. Once she had done that, he had grown well, catching up with his brother within a few weeks. It had seemed for a few months she would have not one, but two successes. Until today.
"Either would be a viable pregnancy. It is unfortunate their biochemistry is so incompatible. To kill a sentient being is an undesirable outcome." Gillian searched her face. She was good at interpreting facial expressions from Vulcans she knew, not just Sarek and Spock but the two who worked on the Yves-Jacques Cousteau, but T'Pau's face was implacable.
"What would you do in my place?" she asked, curious. T'Pau arched a brow a fraction, as if to say she would never get in so illogical a situation but answered. "Since the doctors have stopped your labour, there is still time to make a decision. If it remains stopped for five more weeks, you could surgically remove the more human foetus. It would then have a chance at life and the gestation of the other foetus could continue. It would enhance your chances of success." It was the same conclusion Gillian had reached, there was still the possibility of success. It would be a long seventeen weeks, though. She was already sick with anxiety and it worried her. One, at least should be psychic and having its mother worried like this while it grew wouldn't be helping his psyche at all. She nodded. "That was my conclusion also."
T'Pau stood, straight backed and turned to leave and Gillian begged. "Don't tell Spock, he doesn't know." There was silence for a moment, and then T'Pau said "It is disagreeable for the marital bond to be closed for an extended period of time. Vulcans leave it open all the time even if they live separate lives. If you let it open for short periods while Spock is asleep, you might find it beneficial to your mental state."
A bare moment of hesitation and she walked to the side of the bed. "I can detect your anxiety from here. It is improper for a Vulcan to comment on, but since humans have different societal rules and it is Spock's children you carry, I will make the offer. I can relax you using neuropressure." Gillian nodded acceptance and rolled to the side, she was long beyond lying face down. T'Lind pressed a few buttons on the bed, however and part of it became soft. T'Pau rolled her to her front and arranged Gillian on the bed. She did this without apparent effort, despite her frail seeming appearance. Was it Vulcan strength, or did she use the appearance of frailty to deceive people? She didn't ask, though and tried to relax as T'Pau's fingers pressed into her back, massaging and poking. As her fingers lifted, the muscles beneath relaxed and the pain eased and when she had finished, the residual pain in her lower back was gone.
"Thank you," she mumbled. "I feel better now." T'Pau responded "It is the appropriate thing to do for family members." Before Gillian could respond, she left in a swirl of robes.
