Responsibility 1/4
by Bernice Low
It was a hot and balmy night in the peak of the Summer cycle on G889. A lone watchman in the form of Walman sat wide awake next to a lumalight. It was too hot for a campfire, or coffee - it was too hot to even fall asleep.
Walman leaned on his MagPro and wished that he had a cold,cold beer in his hands. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck onto his shirt collar, and it prickled at the skin on the back of his neck. He wished that he could take his shirt off - he hated that sticky, clammy downright icky feeling that he had now.
Should he? What if someone walked out that moment? Walman cast a furtive look around the camp. Quiet. Not even a sniffle from Morgan.
Oh, what the heck...
***
In her tent, Julia Heller tossed and turned on the bed, trying to find a spot which might be remotely cool to lie on. For once, the flap at the entrance of her tent was open all the way, in the hope that some cool night air might blow in and make the night more bearable.
Fat chance, sighed Julia. The air was stiflingly still, without even a hint of breeze. She swatted impatiently at the insects which flew around her face and annoyingly buzzed in her ears.
Did I really sign up to leave my comfortable unit on the space station, with it's wonderful split unit air conditioner and nice soft bed to sleep on a makeshift bed, under a plastic tent with mosquitoes [or some G889 equivalent to your average bloodsucking mozzie] buzzing in my ear and the prospect of a 10,000km hike with numerous untold dangers ahead of me? she asked herself.
She opened her eyes, looked up at the orange plastic roof of her tent and groaned. She could hope till the universe came to an end that the answer would be no. The fact was, she was stuck here.
She propped herself up on her elbow and fanned herself with the collar of her T Shirt. Invariably, her eyes were drawn to the dozing figure at her side. The handsome face, those hidden dimples that appeared only when he flashed that Galaxy-wide-Patented smile - one hundred percent guaranteed to attract female attention. The thick jet black hair that always managed to make her feel like running her fingers through it. And the physique like a Greek god with those firm, well formed pectoral muscles that made her fingers feel like doing ALL the walking...
Heller, Heller, Heller... a little voice in her head chided. What are you complaining about?
He chose that particular moment to wake up from his dozing and his dark eyes watched her lazily.
"Can't sleep?" he asked slowly, his eyebrows raised in a blatant suggestion.
"It's too hot Alonzo." she complained, then caught his look. "Definitely too hot..." she replied drily.
He caught the end of her T-shirt and pulled it up slowly. "I can see the cause of your problem Dr Heller." he said,growing bold and inching up the T shirt even more, exposing her midriff.
She slapped at his hand.
"Not everyone is an exhibitionist.." she retorted, directing her thinly veiled sarcasm at his scantily clad state. Alonzo wore just about the barest scrap of shorts he had and it peeved Julia slightly that he was staying cool at her expense.
"Would you reconsider if we made it a closed exhibition? Viewing only to a very, very select audience..." he suggested outrageously.
She bumped him in the ribs with her elbow. "You promised to behave if I let you stay here tonight." she scolded and flopped back onto her back. She wiggled uncomfortably - despite her bare legs and arms, she still felt sticky and hot - and cursed for the umpteenth time that night at the idiot who decided that men and women had to have anatomical differences which literally, stood out.
"Julia?" Alonzo's voice drifted lazily over to her. "Hmmmm..." Julia closed her eyes.
"I've got an idea."
"If it gets me any cooler, I'm all ears." she mumbled, eyes closed. "You know that gizmo Danziger's been working on all week?" "The one he spends all day banging about making a huge racket?" "Uh huh."
"What about it?" Julia asked, half paying attention and starting to feel that perhaps sleep might come after all.
"Wanna check it out?" he whispered in her ear. "We don't even know what it is Alonzo." she replied, slightly drowsy and debating if she should swat that tiresome bug that kept flying around next to her ear.
"It's a shower." he replied slowly. Julia opened her eyes. She turned to look at Alonzo, who was lying on his stomach, chin resting on his fingers, looking at her with a look that could only be described as 'smouldering'.
"And what did you have in mind?" she asked,trying to sound cool, though her imagination was already working overtime.
"Sounds like a good time to find out if it works." he drawled. Julia forgot for a moment all about the buzzing insects, the uncomfortable bed and the night heat. His fingers crept underneath her T Shirt slowly.
She cleared her throat.
"The two of us?"
"Wasting water is a terrible thing Dr Heller." he said as he inched closer to nuzzle her ear. Julia started to find it harder and harder to resist his suggestion. Her mind seemed unable to think of any logical reason to say no.
"Someone will see us.." she said weakly. "It's just round the corner from your tent..." he answered casually, his fingers continued to roam under her T Shirt.
Julia caught his hand before he got any further. "OK - I'll bite." she said, getting up and clambering over him to get out of the bed.
"Race you there fly boy.. and don't forget the soap.".
***
"No Morgan - not tonight." Bess said irritably, as she felt her husband snuggle closer to her. It was hot and sweltering enough without having to endure Morgan clinging to her and making her feel even more bothered and sticky.
"But Bess, honey..." her husband murmured. He felt amazingly virile tonight - perhaps it was something to do with the full moon outside. He uttered a low and [he hoped] sexy growl, cuddling closer to his wife.
"Honey,it's just too hot tonight." Bess repeated. Morgan sat up, slightly annoyed. "What is that? The latest version of 'I've got a headache?'" he grumbled.
Bess continued to keep her eyes firmly closed, ignoring her husband's whines about his lack of conjugal rights. It was too hot. She racked her brain quickly for a more suitable excuse before he started on more complicated issues.
Like performance.
Like adequacy.
And whatever else it is that men prided themselves on where such matters were concerned.
She just couldn't deal with a Morgan insecurity on a night like this. "Morgan - you know we can't. You had your last suppressor two weeks ago sweetie." she replied, trying to muster up enough concern in her voice.
A spluttering noise from her husband confirmed that she had hit home with that last one.
"But...but Bess, I thought you were going to talk to Julia about getting more.."
"Morgan, it's your body. It's your responsibility." Bess mumbled from under the pillow.
Morgan hunched over his knees. "I know, I know. But I mean I don't like having to ask her..." he muttered.
"You managed it fine the last time." Bess slurred, half asleep. "What did you say to her?"
Silence.
"Morgan?" Bess snapped awake, surprised by her husband's long silence. Surely Morgan wasn't EMBARRASSED about it? She sat up and touched her husband on the shoulder.
"Honey?"
More silence
"Well...you know... it was kind of embarrassing.." she heard Morgan mumble.
And Bess swore she saw her husband turn a positively bright shade of pink. "...but you always used to get them." Bess remarked innocuously. "I know - but that was different. Buying it from a mechanical vendor is a whole lot easier..." he mumbled. "You don't have to ask.." he muttered under his breath.
"Morgan... you did it the last time - I'm sure you'll manage it again." Bess said encouragingly and gave her husband a pat on the shoulder.
"But can't we just.."
"Morgan - no suppressors, no playing patty cake. Unless of course you want pitter patter in addition to patty cake.." Bess said frankly and smiled sweetly at her husband as she twisted his metaphorical arm.
Morgan winced. It was times like these that he wondered who was the real politician in the family. Kids! He wasn't ready for kids.
Morgan bemoaned his fate woefully - it was like choosing between the devil and the deep blue sea. He yanked the blanket over his head.He needed to think and he couldn't hear himself with those pesky bugs swarming around in his ear.
Think Morgan, think. Is there any way to get around this? Yes.
Don't ask.
Morgan smacked himself on the side of the head. Owww.
Well, perhaps that was a little bit hard. Not ask? Are you crazy? It may be god knows how many years before he saw an automated vendor again. He doubted it was very high on Devon's list of priorities - unless the woman decided to marry Danziger tomorrow - but he was sure that wasn't going to happen - he was after all married to Eden Advance's Number One Busybody.
He sighed. After all, man cannot live on bread alone. Under the privacy of his blanket, he tried out a few lines.
"I've run out of those things.." Nope. "Julia - Bess and I ..." No, no, no. Try again. "Julia, you know those little white thingys..."
And that was all Mrs Morgan Martin heard all night. That, and her husband's moans as he recollected his first 'serious' conversation with Dr Julia Heller.
***
It was about 7 weeks after they had crash landed on the planet. Morgan Martin, having accepted that it was indeed reality that he was stuck here for a while, told himself that he could just about survive without all the trappings of materialism and comfort. He could live in a plastic tent, eat astronaut food. OK, OK. He'd even put up with those bloody Grendlers and Terrians.
But celibacy? That was asking too much of a man. So, determined to end this imposed abstinence, he marched determinedly to the MedTent. After all, how hard could this be?
He flipped the flap of the tent up and strode in. Clearing his throat, he drew Julia's attention from her microscope. God, the woman was practically joined at the eyeballs to her microscope, he thought inwardly.
"Julia? Do you have a minute?"
Julia turned around, and seeing that it was Morgan, resisted the temptation to scowl and wondered what the problem was this time. The last time it was Grendler drool, and the last time before last, it was chronic hypochondria. And the time before last...
"What can I do for you Morgan?" her voice was casual, only her fingers tapping on the table top betrayed a slight impatience.
Morgan clasped his hands together. Just ask, he told himself. How hard can it be to ask her for some suppressors? Come on Morgan, you've faced all the political scumbags and demons there are, she's just a doctor. She hasn't got an ax to grind with you, or a bone to pick.
"I was ah...wondering...if....ah... you had any...well...." Morgan looked at her earnestly, hoping that she would pick up quickly and get the message.
"Morgan, I can't understand a word you're saying. You're mumbling." Julia said, sharply.
He cleared his throat.
"Well, actually what I wanted to ask you is...err.. whether Bess and I... we...want to errr..." Morgan shifted from left to right nervously.
Julia sat there and sighed. Morgan you wuss, just spit it out. "Well.. you know we've been on the planet for quite a while...and err.. Bess and I....we were wondering if you know...we could start..." Morgan's hands fidgeted nervously with his hair as he tried to force himself to be more direct but he was having a very hard time spitting the words out.
"Did you want some suppressors?" Julia asked outright. From the vague phrases Morgan had mumbled, Julia gathered that was what he was after.
Morgan looked around the tent nervously and wet his lips. "Can you...get...."
Julia wiped her hands on her trousers. "It shouldn't be a problem Morgan. I think I have all the equipment I need." she remarked matter-a-factly. "How much do you want?"
"H-h-h-ow much?" he repeated, blinking at her. "Well, I don't need a specific number, just a general guideline as to how many you'll be needing every..." Julia ran some brief calculations in her head, "say month or so?" She looked expectantly at him.
"..How many..I'll use?.." he looked at her desperately. Julia gave him a suspicious look.
"Morgan, you DO know about these things?" she asked slowly, watching him carefully.
"YES! Of course!" he replied indignantly. "B-b-but not..." he paused, "..I never used..to have to err...I used to just buy...err..t-t-t-them.." he nervously pulled at his shirt and ran his fingers through his hair. He could feel his face slowly turning pink under Julia's gaze.
Deal with a real doctor. Obviously Morgan, Julia said to herself. "When can I....err... have them?" he asked, hoping he didn't sound too urgent. He didn't want the doctor to get the wrong idea.
"Well, I need to know how often you'll be needing them. My equipment is not of the standard it should be so I want to be extra careful with anything I synthesize. I don't want to make too much for you because the compound may not be that reliable over a lengthy period of time." she explained, not wanting *Morgan* to get the wrong idea. People always had this idea that doctors were incredible nosy parkers - but after 7 weeks on this planet with the Eden Advance team, she was convinced that it was quite the opposite. It seemed to Julia as though everybody else was constantly sticking their nose in her affairs, especially where Alonzo was concerned.
"Well?" she drilled at Morgan.
Morgan felt like jumping up and down and tearing his head out by the handfuls. What was he to do? Should he just toss a figure randomly at Julia? If only it were that easy. Too much and she would get the wrong idea about him.
Too few?
Well, she might get the wrong impression. For the millionth time since he found himself stranded on this planet, Morgan felt pretty sure that fate had a really mean streak, and at how everything, everything, would have been so much easier if he just hadn't signed up for this damned Eden Project business. He forgot all the wonderful enthusiastic ideas he had about how the Martins would finally be able to make good, to stake their claim, to be leaders, hold some REAL political power. Instead, all he could think of was just how lousy life was treating him. This is worse than being reborn as a cockroach! he wailed to himself.
He reluctantly dragged himself back to reality with a pinch and started to rack his mind for a suitably respectable figure to give Julia, who sat there, surprisingly patient.
Finally, unable to avoid her stare anymore, he hemmed and hawed before Julia finally lost patience.
"OK Morgan, why don't I just make a batch up for you?If you need any more," she emphasised the last word, "you can just let me know." she said simply. Morgan was displaying all the symptoms of the 'Flustered Male' and clearly he was uncomfortable with this entire business, so she would just have to hazard a guess. It was tiresome because it meant that she wouldn't be able to keep to a regular schedule in dispensing the suppressors, and it would mess with her record keeping, but she could see no solution if Morgan was going to be this unhelpful.
His mouth gaping open, Morgan blinked at Julia, wondering if he had heard her wrongly. Noting his reaction, Julia feigned surprise, "Unless of course you've already decided..." she left the sentence unfinished, her eyebrows raised in query.
"No, it's fine Julia. Absolutely fine.. I have no problems...with that.." Morgan blurted out immediately. " Can I..err.." he stuck a thumb in the direction of the entrance of the tent.
"Yes Morgan, I'll drop them off to you or Bess as soon as I can." Julia's voice was saccharin sweet, only slightly betraying her annoyance and she watched as Morgan backed out of the tent hurriedly. She shook her head in amusement.
Men.
Give them a little responsibility over their bodies and they go to pieces.
End of Part 1.
Story Notes:
Hello everybody..
Hope that you're all having a nice vacation and with lots of snow [I speak from the equator where we have sunshine and rain but none of that white stuff.]
I'm not too sure whether this is a good time to mail to the list with people going off for vacation but my uni e mail programme [this is what you get when it's free] can't import text onto the mail - and it's gonna take me way too long to type this all in. So I'm sending this while I'm at home and able to use Eudora [all hail he who wrote it!]
This germinated back in Summer when I finally saw 'Flower Child'. It started as another 'Morgan adventure' with lots of J and A thrown in - but I ended up writing a lot of Dev and Danz too- well more than I usually do. Hopefully I've managed to keep those two true to themselves. It remains my ambition to one day write a D and D story.
As for my theory of suppressors, there is considerable writer's licence in it - I can't vouch for it's scientific pedigree but please, critique away if it strikes you as illogical. As always, all comments are gladly welcomed.
Thanks to Laura for duplicating Flower Child for me [BTW, haven't heard from you in ages!] and this one's for all you J and A fans and to the one and only original RHM. Those who know me know I'm hopeless with titles. Hope this one works ok.
Bernice.
Disclaimer: All characters used in this work of fiction belong to Amblin. This story however remains the intellectual property of the author. Reproduction in any form shall only be with the author's permission
Hope that you're all having a nice vacation and with lots of snow [I speak from the equator where we have sunshine and rain but none of that white stuff.]
I'm not too sure whether this is a good time to mail to the list with people going off for vacation but my uni e mail programme [this is what you get when it's free] can't import text onto the mail - and it's gonna take me way too long to type this all in. So I'm sending this while I'm at home and able to use Eudora [all hail he who wrote it!]
This germinated back in Summer when I finally saw 'Flower Child'. It started as another 'Morgan adventure' with lots of J and A thrown in - but I ended up writing a lot of Dev and Danz too- well more than I usually do. Hopefully I've managed to keep those two true to themselves. It remains my ambition to one day write a D and D story.
As for my theory of suppressors, there is considerable writer's licence in it - I can't vouch for it's scientific pedigree but please, critique away if it strikes you as illogical. As always, all comments are gladly welcomed.
Thanks to Laura for duplicating Flower Child for me [BTW, haven't heard from you in ages!] and this one's for all you J and A fans and to the one and only original RHM. Those who know me know I'm hopeless with titles. Hope this one works ok.
Bernice.
Disclaimer: All characters used in this work of fiction belong to Amblin. This story however remains the intellectual property of the author. Reproduction in any form shall only be with the author's permission