Mission Cure

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO - M:FAC/1 - Clare

CLARE

Clare realized it was cruel and unusual punishment to leave Charlie alone and tied to his sofa. But Adrian needed to be with his wife, and the kids didn't need to watch Charlie spiral into madness.

Oren and Oliver were only eight years old, but they knew something was wrong, and they were starting to ask questions.

So, Adrian brought the whole group of kids to hang out with him and Clare - and his laboring wife.

Roslava didn't seem to care that there were so many people in her home. In fact, between contractions, she was barking orders at Adrian to make the kids a healthy snack and have Anni go potty.

Clare rubbed her back as another contraction started. "Slow, deep breath in through your nose," she instructed in her calmest voice. "Slow breath out."

Roslava was draped over a stack of pillows in the living room. She was nearing transition, and her bleeding had stopped completely - for now. She asked for some ice before remembering it took power to freeze water. "Fine. Soka," she told Clare who rose to her feet and gave Adrian a questioning look.

What is soka?

"Juice," he explained.

"Ah." Clare went to the kitchen and returned with a cup.

The closest they had to juice was an orange powder mixed into water. She held the straw for Roslava to take a sip, set the cup on the coffee table, then disappeared into the kitchen.

It was only ten in the morning, but since the kids had been up half the night, the two younger girls were ready for a nap. Adrian got them settled into their beds with a movie playing on a tablet he propped on the dresser. Then he went to sit next to Roslava.

Clare stood in the kitchen doorway, fascinated with how Adrian never even tried to touch her or comfort her - at least not in the traditional sense. He simply asked how long it would be, and she answered with a shrug. Then they talked about something in Russian. When she had a contraction, he busied himself with a book from the coffee table. When her contraction ended, they talked some more.

Then Nikita interrupted, yelling, "Papa! I need a snack!"

Adrian shook his head. "Nyet. You already had snack!"

"I'm still hungry! Anni's hungry, too!"

Clare peeked in on the girls and saw that Anni was actually fast asleep. "What do you want to eat?" she asked Nikita. She just needed the girl to be quiet so her mother could concentrate. Nothing stalls labor better than stress.

"Can I have apple slices?"

"I'll see what I can find," Clare told her, making a shushing motion - one index finger over her lips.

Nikita smiled and nodded and went back to watching her movie.

Clare headed to the kitchen and riffled through the fridge, but there was no fresh fruit. That was something they would have on hand in a month or so when the fruit grove was ready for harvest. The Fleet would connect for a day of work, there would be tables full of snacks and meals – potluck style – and the kids would get a chance to socialize. It was always a lot of fun. Hopefully, things would be normal by then.

She opened a couple of cupboards until she found the pantry. Inside, it was packed full of snack foods, including dried apple slices!

Plucking the bag from its place amid the others labeled in Russian, Clare headed back to Nikita with a smile. "Dried apples?" she asked.

Nikita's smile reached across her face. "Those are my favorite."

"Great." Clare handed over the open bag and went back to the kitchen.

It was only two contractions later when Nikita called, "I need some juice!"

Clare sighed. "Hold on, I'll get some."

She pulled out the orange powder and then looked everywhere for the kid cups with lids. But she couldn't find them. And she didn't want to bother Roslava or Adrian - so the juice went into a regular cup.

"Here," she told Nikita, handing her the cup.

The little girl took a sip and gave Clare a thumbs-up. Then she carefully set the cup on her side table and happily crunched on an apple slice.

Clare escaped to the kitchen, sent a quick text to Dreary, asking how everything was going, then decided to make herself a cup of lukewarm instant coffee with powdered milk - yum. One sip and Nikita was yelling again.

"I spilled my juice!"

"Shit." Clare covered her mouth, but the other three kids were too busy playing with a cardboard box in the corner to notice her slip.

It took a few minutes to clean up the spill and get the child a new juice - this time in the proper cup for a three-year-old - and by then, her phone was vibrating in her pocket.

Clare sat down at the kitchen table and took a drink of her coffee before pulling out her phone.

Dreary Caprice: Not great. One of the Voids stabbed Jace in the leg.

What the hell?

Clare texted back: How? With a knife? Is he okay? Where are you guys?

Panic gripped at Clare's chest. Had she sent those kids out to die? She texted again, telling them to forget the Pitocin and head back as quickly as possible.

Then she waited for a response. It felt like hours before Dreary finally answered.

Dreary Caprice: We're stuck on Ship Two - someone locked all the doors. And most of the Voids are on the ship with us! Jace can't walk. I'm going to try and get him to a safe place... I don't really know what to do...

Someone locked all the doors?

Spencer! Clare's whole body flooded with anger at the man. He'd done it on purpose to keep himself safe - she would bet everything she owned.

Switching over to General Spencer, she texted him a scathing lecture on how to properly manage a ship in crisis - which didn't include self-preservation when you were the leader. She then commanded him to open the doors. Because with the doors securely closed, Dreary and Jace were sure to be infected. And Ship One would run out of air. Adrian was in no condition to get downstairs right now and fix the power - he was also a little busy with having a new baby.

Clare was so angry; she didn't know what to do with herself. She drank down the rest of her coffee and paced across the small kitchen.

When General Spencer finally texted back, it was the scariest and most confusing message ever.

General Spencer: This is Richard. General Spencer is dead. I'm sorry. And we can't open the doors right now. We have to go downstairs for Cohen's stuff - we're trying to figure out the cure. I'll text you when we know something for sure. Hold tight.