Looking at Ariel, he felt a sudden rush of warmth course through him. He wanted to protect her, provide for her, help her while she bore their child. Was that instinct, too? He had been in love with her before, but this was something else.
He certainly hadn’t learned it on Aurora. His father had been right: an Auroran family was the next thing to none. Permanent attachments, or even long-term relationships, were rare, even discouraged. An attachment as deep as he felt now for Ariel would be considered an aberration there.
Which meant that it wasn’t instinct, or Aurorans would have been feeling it, too. Somehow that made Derec feel even better. It was genuine love he was feeling, concern and care born of their experiences together, rather than simple chemicals in his bloodstream. Instinct was just intensifying what he already felt for her.
She was worried. He could feel it in her hand, see it on her face. She needed time to accept what was happening to her. On sudden impulse, he said, “Let’s go for a walk.”
She thought about it for a few seconds. “Okay.”
He helped her to her feet. The medical robot said, “Before you go, I need to impress upon you the importance of regular medical checkups. You should report for testing at regular two-week intervals, and before that if you notice any sudden developments. Your health is critical to the developing embryo, and its health is critical to your own. Also, your diet-”
Ariel cut him off. “Can this wait?”
“For a short time, yes.”
“Then tell me later. Or send it to our apartment and I’ll read up on it there.”
The robot hesitated, its First Law obligation to protect Ariel and her baby from harm warring against its Second Law obligation to obey her order. Evidently Ariel’s implied agreement to follow its instructions was enough to satisfy its First Law concern, for it nodded its head and said, “Very well. But do not overexert yourself on your walk.”
Derec led her out of the hospital and along the walkway beside the building, ignoring the row of transport booths waiting by the entrance. They walked in silence for a time, lost in their own thoughts, taking comfort from each other’s presence, but within a few blocks they had a silent host of Lucius’s rodents following them, their hungry stares and soft chittering noises sending shivers up Derec’s spine. He didn’t know how dangerous they might be, but if nothing else, they were certainly spoiling the mood. With a sigh, he led Ariel back inside another building and up the elevator to the top, where they continued their walk along enclosed paths high above the streets. The rats hadn’t yet reached these levels.
The tops of some of the buildings had been planted with grass and trees to make pocket parks; after passing three or four of them-all devoid of activity save for their robot gardeners unobtrusively tending the plants-they stopped to sit in the grass beneath a young apple tree and look out over the city. Ariel had been quiet for a long time now, but Derec couldn’t take the silence anymore. He felt an incredible urge to babble.
“I’m still not sure I believe it’s really happening,” he said. “It’s crazy to think about. A new person. A completely new mind, with a new viewpoint, new thoughts, new attitudes, new everything. And we’re responsible for its development. It’s daunting.”
Ariel nodded, “I know what you mean. Who are we to be having a baby?”
“Better us than Lucius, at least,” Derec said with a grin.
“I suppose. At least we know what one is.” Ariel tried to smile, but hers was a fleeting smile at best. She turned away, said to the city, “Oh, Derec, I don’t know. I don’t know if I want to do this. I keep thinking about having it, and then I keep thinking about not having it, and right now I’ve got to say that not having it sounds a lot better to me.” She looked back to Derec, and he could see the confusion written plain as words in her expression.
His own face must have mirrored her confusion. “Not having it,” he said. “You mean…you mean…aborting it?” The instincts, or hormones, or whatever they were, still had a strong grip on him. It was hard to even say the word that would take his child from him.
“Yes, that’s what I mean,” said Ariel. “Aborting it. Stopping it now, while we still can. It’s not like we wanted it, is it? We weren’t trying for one. We were happy without it. If we’d known I could get pregnant, then we would have been using birth control, wouldn’t we? So why should we change our entire lives because of some silly-accident?”
“Because it’s us! Our child. Because it’s a new person, a new mind, with a new viewpoint and all that. That’s why we should keep it.” Was that why? Derec fought for his own understanding even as he tried to explain it to Ariel. “It’s-do you remember what it was like when we first found ourselves here? Me without a memory at all, yours slowly slipping from you, neither of us with any idea what we were doing here? Remember how lost we felt?”
Ariel’s eyebrows wrinkled in concentration. “It’s fuzzy that far back. But I know what you’re talking about. I’ve felt lost often enough since then.”
“Right. We had no purpose; that’s why we felt that way. I spent my time trying to track down my father, thinking he could help restore my memory, but that was just a yearning for the past. We spent time searching for a cure for your disease, but that was just patching up the past, too. Now I find I’ve got a mother running around out here somewhere, too, and I was all set to spend however long it takes trying to find her, to see if she couldn’t do for me what Avery won’t, but now I don’t even care. Now all of a sudden we have something to look forward to, something in our future. Who cares about the past when we’ve got that?”
Ariel shook her head. “Why should we grab at the first thing that comes along? Derec, this is going to change our lives. Unless we want to put the baby in a nursery, and it’s obvious you don’t, then we’re going to have to take care of it. We’re going to have to live with it, like Earthers and settlers do. Do you really want that? I’m not so sure I do. And besides that-” she waved away his protest, “-it’s my body we’re talking about here. Pregnancy is dangerous. It can cause all sorts of problems in a woman; blood clots, kidney damage-you wouldn’t believe all the things that can go wrong. And for what? A future with a squalling brat in it? I can’t see risking my life for that.”
“But what about the baby’s life? Isn’t that a consideration?”
“Of course, it’s a consideration,” Ariel said angrily. “If it wasn’t, I’d have had the medical robot abort it this morning. I’m still trying to weigh it out; my life and my future versus the life and future of what at this point amounts to a few dividing cells. It’s a testament to how important I think it is that I’m considering it at all.”
Derec had been subliminally aware of the gardener going about its job somewhere behind him. The soft whirr of the robot’s grass-cutting blade had been a soothing noise at the edge of his perception, but the sudden silence when it stopped was enough to make him look around to the robot, just in time to see it topple onto its side, smashing a bed of flowers when it hit.
“What the-?” He stood, went over to the robot, and said, “Gardener. Do you hear me?”
No response.
Gardener,he sent via comlink.
Still nothing. He pulled it up to a sitting position, but it was like raising a statue. The robot was completely locked up. Derec let it fall on its side again. It made a quiet thud when it hit the ground.
“It couldn’t handle the conflict,” Derec said in wonder. “Its First Law obligation to protect you was fighting with its obligation to protect the baby, and it couldn’t handle it.”