As each day passed, Luke placed an X in one square after another. McGee questioned whether Townsend should have let this demonstration of anxiousness-to-leave continue, but he did, and the crew grew more nervous with each X. Finally the day came when Luke placed an X on July 8.
"Last chance for a quick flight," the geologist commented.
But Townsend just continued his reading.
Thus, the first critical day passed without incident.
Then another day was marked off, and another, and another, until July 16.
With nothing left to do but wait, the entire crew gathered in the galley. Gwen, Luke, and McGee were watching a Braves game. The TV sportscaster blared, "Bottom of the ninth, Atlanta trails 5:2. Two outs. Runners on second and third."
Sitting next to Rebecca, off to the side, Townsend whispered, "How much longer do you figure, Doctor?"
The sportscaster announced: "Coming to the plate for Atlanta is slugger Stan Slominski. Slominski, batting 342, twenty-nine home runs so far this season."
"Come on, Stan!" Gwen shouted. Stan was the man.
Rebecca shrugged. "I don't know. It could be today, could be tomorrow. Could be two weeks from now."
Townsend clenched his fist. "Dammit. We don't have two weeks. We don't even have one week. Isn't there anything you can do to push things along?"
"The pitch, high and outside. Ball one! Looks like Slominski's being given an intentional walk."
Rebecca briefly eyed the group watching the game with clinical interest, and then answered her commander. "No, nothing safe. At this point, Mother Nature's in charge."
Oblivious to the doctor's disdain, the sportscaster announced: "Two outs. Bases are loaded. Coming to bat for Atlanta is Carlos Gomez, a rookie who hasn't done very well this year. Gomez, batting 195, is at the plate. Here's the pitch, strike one!"
Gwen rose from her chair and turned away from the TV in disgust. "I don't want to see this."
"Strike two!" the sportscaster called.
Gwen walked to the refrigerator to get something to drink. She returned with a cup of juice and stood behind her chair, facing away from the TV to avoid witnessing the final debacle.
"And it's a powerful drive deep into left field!"
Gwen whirled in amazement. The sportscaster went on. "It's... it's... over the fence! A grand slam. Carlos Gomez has knocked the ball right out of the park! Atlanta wins, 6:5."
"Yes!" Gwen shouted.
Then she doubled over in pain, dropping her cup onto the floor. Stricken, Gwen clutched at her swollen belly. "Ahhhh! Help! I'm dying!"
Rebecca was up in an instant. "Quick," she shouted, "get her into the lab."
McGee tried to help his new wife walk, but her legs wouldn't work, so he put his hands under her arms and motioned to Luke, who lifted her legs. The two men carried her, moaning and screaming, into the lab. Rebecca slammed a cot mattress onto the table, and the men placed Gwen down on it. In a few moments, her screaming stopped, but her breathing remained agonized.
As Gwen's breathing slowly became more regular, Rebecca put on her doctor's coat and sterile gloves, and moved to unfasten Gwen's pants. "We better have a look—"
"Just what do you think you're doing?" Gwen angrily pushed the doctor's hand away.
Rebecca tried to be cool. "I'm going to deliver your baby."
Gwen's eyes went wild. "No you're not. No you're not! Do you hear me, Colonel. I don't want that atheist bitch to lay a finger on me!"
Flustered, Rebecca backed away before mustering her courage to try again. "Gwen, this is going to be hard. You've got to let me help."
Gwen shoved her away violently. "You stay away!"
Rebecca turned to her commander for assistance. "Colonel, she could die. I've got to find out what's going on."
Townsend didn't know what to do. "Try talking with her," he offered helplessly.
Rebecca took a deep breath to calm herself, then approached again, taking care to stay out of arms' reach of her wild patient.
"Gwen, listen to me," the doctor said softly. "I'm sorry about what I said. I'm sorry about trying to make you have an abortion. I was wrong. Now I want to help. Please let me help you."
Gwen glared at her. "Why should I believe that?"
"I'm a doctor. It's my oath."
Curiosity modified the hostile expression on the mechanic's face. "What good's your oath? You don't even believe in God, do you?"
Rebecca shook her head. "No, Gwen, I don't. But I believe in truth. Have you ever known me to lie about anything?"
Gwen thought for a moment. "No, I reckon not."
Rebecca knelt by the table. "Listen to me, Gwen," she whispered with a kind of passion. "I swear this to you on all I hold holy. I want you to have this baby. I want you to live, and I want the baby to live, and I want you and McGee to raise your child here on Mars. I believe in what you're doing, Gwen. I believe in it with all my heart. If I had the courage, I'd do it myself. I don't." She drew a breath. "But I have the skill to see you through this. Gwen, I can help you win. Let me help."
Gwen was bewildered. The doctor's outburst was honest, that was obvious. But still... She shook her head. "Do you have any idea how much I've hated you? I think I'd rather die than let you help me."
Rebecca looked her softly in the eyes. "And the baby, would you rather have her die?"
Gwen stared at Rebecca for several seconds. "Her. You called my baby a ‘her,' not an ‘it.'"
Rebecca nodded. "Yes, Gwen, your baby's going to be a girl."
Gwen was dumbfounded. "How long have you known?"
"A long time."
"But you didn't tell me."
"I didn't think you would want to know ahead of time."
"You were right." Gwen's expression softened a bit. "Thank you for considering my way of thinking."
"Sorry I let it slip."
"That's okay," Gwen smiled. "We all make mistakes. A girl. A baby girl!"
Rebecca leaned closer and whispered conspiratorially. "We're the only women within seventy million miles. Don't you think it's silly for us to be always, always..."
"Tearing at each other like cats?"
Rebecca nodded. "Precisely."
"You think maybe us behaving that way is giving women a bad reputation around here?"
Rebecca nodded again.
Gwen looked down at her swollen belly. "My daughter wouldn't like that."
Rebecca shook her head and smiled. "No."
Gwen regarded the doctor. "You know, Rebecca, I always thought you were a really fine person—for a damn Yankee atheist bitch, that is."
Rebecca grinned. "And I always thought you were super, Gwen, taking into consideration the fact that you're an ignorant Bible-thumping hillbilly, of course."
The two women exchanged smiles of recognition. Gwen slowly extended her hand to Rebecca, who clasped it warmly. "Go ahead, Doc. Do your stuff. Let's even up the odds around here."
For a moment Rebecca felt choked with emotion. Oh, Gwen, if only we could have been friends sooner. Then she mastered herself. "Okay, now let's have a look," she said clinically.
Rebecca opened up Gwen's pants. What a mess.
The mechanic saw her expression. "It's the bag of waters, isn't it?"
"Yes. Membranes have ruptured."
Gwen gritted her teeth in pain. "Uh-oh. It's happening again." Then suddenly she screamed.
The noise was startling, but Rebecca quickly gathered her wits. She looked at her watch. "That's five minutes since the last one. She's coming soon."
Gwen reached out. "Could I have some... privacy?"
Rebecca stood up and faced the three watching men. "All right, everybody out except the father."