“Jeremy?”
Jeremy Sinclair jerked himself out of his chair. He came to an uneasy imitation of standing at attention and realized he still held the hand held display with his daughter’s picture in his hand. In the doorway stood his new boss, Dr. Synnamon Rice. “Sorry Doctor, I was…um, did you need something?”
Dr. Rice’s eyes went to the flexible display panel in his hand. “May I?” She asked. Jeremy thought her voice seemed distant. Then again, it was also icy calm. Her very demeanor was the polar opposite that her spicy name implied. Even her black hair, streaked with grey, reflected an absolute no-nonsense personality with it being pulled tightly back into a bun.
Jeremy thought about denying her. Wasn’t it enough that he had given up everything in his life to come on the mission? Discovering a new planet was exciting. Even more so because this was the first in his lifetime. All the existing systems in the coalition had been settled nearly a dozen years before he’d been born. This one was far enough away even at full burn on the military transport, the TCS Explorer, it had taken years to get there.
It would be years to get back too, not counting the time he was stuck being Dr. Rice’s lab tech on the planet. He glanced at the picture again then sighed and handed it to her. “Her name’s Jasmine, she’s my daughter.”
“Oh,” Was all Rice said as she took it from him and looked at it. Jasmine was barely more than an infant but even so it was obvious something was wrong with her. She was smiling in the picture, proof of the innocence of youth. Tubes were attached to her belly and chest, providing a necessary exchange of fluids and nutrients.
“Spartan’s Syndrome,” Jeremy heard his words and wished he could have taken them back. They sounded lifeless and pathetic. Spartan’s was a genetic disorder discovered less than a hundred years ago. It was also something that had come about at the same time, due to improper shielding of some of the earlier jump stations. Jeremy’s father had been through enough hops between solar systems and had passed along the genetic damage to him. Jeremy’s ex-wife, Bleigh, had similar damage. Between the two of them the one and only child they had was doomed before it was born.
“I see,” Dr. Rice said. “I’m sorry, it must have been difficult. How long did she-“
Jeremy pulled the display back from her. “She didn’t!” He snapped. He took a deep breath and forced the tension out of his body. “I’m sorry. I mean she was doing good when we left. As good as can be expected. She’s near the upper end of those affected, with proper gene therapy it’s possible for her to lead a normal life.”
“That was close to nine years ago.” He was thankful she hadn’t pointed out the obvious, that nobody survived past their fifth year with Spartans without significant, and expensive, therapy.
“That’s why I’m here, Doctor,” Jeremy said. “All of my checks go to her therapy. There was no other way I could make enough to pay for it. I was just catching up on status updates that had been sent while we were enroute. I’ve got about three years worth remaining, but I can do that after we’re settled at the colony.”
Dr. Rice stared at him for a long moment. “I was saying, Mr. Sinclair, that the transport is leaving for the surface in four hours. I believe most of our equipment has been loaded but…I’m going to check and make sure nothing has been overlooked. I’ll expect you’ll want to review your own items as well?”
Jeremy nodded, not sure if he was believing his ears.
“Good, I’ll leave it to you to determine how much time that will take. I’ll see you on the transport.”
Dr. Rice turned and left. The door to his quarters shut behind her, sealing him in. Jeremy stared at the door until his brain started working again. “Maybe she’s not the cold fish I’d read about,” he mused aloud. With a shrug he turned back to the display on his desk and pulled up the next message. He smiled and fought to blink past the blurriness in his vision. Jasmine was six in the picture and looked like a normal girl, even if her gaze was distant and unfocused. Modern medicine couldn’t cure everything, but this was as close to a miracle as he’d ever dared to dream.