Growth: Chapter 6A
The progress Vulcans had made since the destruction of their planet was exceptional, to say the least. Families had their own rudimentary dwellings, solidly constructed with every necessity to a desert lifestyle. A government building had been erected, and alongside various mass replication facilities and distribution centers stood enough medical centers to cater to all the refugees and visitors, regardless of their species of origin.
It was at one of these medical centers that Spock and Jim met with one Doctor Geoffrey M’Benga, and Jim’s reaction to the man was telling.
“Spock, you didn’t tell me the doctor we’d be seeing would be human,” he said, voice barely audible. The tiniest flitter of irritation made its way through the bond, and Spock nodded. What can he tell us that Bones can’t?
“Dr. M’Benga specializes in Vulcan physiology, and has also has extensive knowledge of human genetics,” Spock explained. “Of all those stationed on New Vulcan, he is the most appropriate choice in the matter.”
The doctor smirked. “You’ve brought the records?” he asked. Spock handed him the PADD he’d gotten from Dr. McCoy. M’Benga traced the stylus down it once, then set it aside. “I’ll run my own scans.”
Another flash of irritation came from Jim.
“What are we scanning for?” he asked. M’Benga raised an eyebrow.
“I’d forgotten how it felt to be the recipient of a ‘tone’. Kind of nice,” he shrugged, turning to activate a scanner. “I’m going to do a full genetic profile. With the equipment here, I should be able to project a growth pattern both in and extra-utero. That’ll make it possible to determine whether Spock’s muscular development is going to hinder their growth.”
Spock nodded his approval to the doctor. “That would be valuable information,” he agreed. Jim cupped his chin.
“And you said you could project their growth patterns?” Jim inquired. M’Benga nodded. After only a brief pause, Jim shook his head. “Just do the in-utero projections. I don’t want to see my kids grow up on a screen if I can see it in person instead.”
M’Benga chuckled. “You don’t have to see it, but I’m doing them right up to age six,” he said, finally lifting the wand from the scanner. “This won’t take too long.”
Jim reached two fingers out, and Spock returned the gesture immediately, watching the progress on the scanner. Jim may not have been interested in post-natal growth, but Spock certainly was. Their physical growth was essentially decided already. It would not change in time. Their personalities and intellectual growth, however, could never be predicted.
That was more than enough a surprise for him.
The scan completed quickly enough, and M’Benga moved silently to download the information onto his PADD. Spock watched Jim’s eyes follow the man, and the slightest inkling of distrust seeped through the bond into Spock’s subconscious.
He has done nothing to warrant any suspicions, Jim, he reminded his mate. Jim frowned, wariness evident even on his expression.
I don’t know. I just don’t like him.
It was irrational, but Jim’s mind had been made. Spock knew nothing he said could amount to any degree of change in that. He moved to cross his arms, attempting to ignore the slight discomfort of his healing sternum shifting.
M’Benga turned toward them again, eyes still fixed on the screen of his PADD. “Give me a moment to composite a few scenarios,” he murmured, running the stylus over several areas of the device. “I promise not to show any projections while you’re in the room, Captain.”
Jim nodded, the frown still etched into his face. For the most part, the bond was silent. With some concentration, Spock could pick up a nervousness and anticipation from his mate, but it wasn’t overpowering and it certainly wasn’t unwarranted. He stroked Jim’s mind lightly, attempting to soothe what little was there.
Finally, the doctor seemed content with the results on the PADD. He fixed his gaze on Spock.
“Twins complicate things,” he began. “In this instance, it’s more so than usual. For one thing, the two have different blood types. One of them is so different from yours that your body may attempt to reject her. Your doctor will need to give you a hypo every six weeks to prevent that.”
Spock nodded. It was understandable. Jim’s jaw tightened, and the Vulcan once more moved to soothe his bondmate as best he could.
“Another issue is skeletal development, but there’s a note here that your doctor already informed you of that,” he said, sliding the stylus down the screen of the PADD. “If you maintain your present diet, the male twin’s development will be hindered from about twenty weeks onward. I ran a few scenarios regarding dietary changes. In order to avoid complications, you’ll need to increase your intake of Vitamin D by approximately two-hundred percent and reduce iron consumption by twelve percent, minimum. I’ll load the appropriate information onto a PADD for the doctor on Enterprise.”
Jim’s face was suddenly slack. “Two-hundred percent?” he managed. M’Benga nodded. “Wait a second. If I remember my biology classes right, that can lead to an overdose pretty quickly, even in Vulcans. How is he going to avoid that?!”
Jim’s concerns certainly were valid, Spock had to admit. The amount of Vitamin D he could absorb was limited, and there was no guarantee his body would utilize it properly. M’Benga, however, merely raised an eyebrow.
“He needs to take a catalyzing agent to ensure proper absorption, but otherwise he should be fine,” he stated. “The overdose would be minor, even without the assistance, but it’s not something you want to risk during pregnancy, I know. Not that I know how your body’s going to react to all the new hormones - this is my first male pregnancy, and you’re a hybrid to boot. The whole scientific community is going to want to watch this one.”
Jim bristled visibly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
M’Benga blinked twice in rapid succession. Interesting. “Exactly what it sounds like,” he said. “Mind you, no one will have access to his files unless he releases them, but once word gets out that a hybrid male has not only received the Male Carrier procedure, but actually conceived, I don’t imagine a physician or geneticist in the Federation isn’t going to want to study everything about it. I’d advise you try to keep this close to your chests if you want to avoid it.”
Spock nodded. It had occurred to him, albeit in passing, that the scientific community would be interested in how his pregnancy progressed. From an objective standpoint, he himself was curious how an interspecies male pregnancy would differ from others. This apparently had not occurred to Jim, though, if the stunned expression was any indication.
“Shit,” he managed. “I-that’s good advice. I mean. It’s just. Spock?”
Spock extended two fingers, waiting for Jim to respond. He did so slowly, eyes wide. “I do not anticipate encountering any overly-zealous researchers or malicious physicians, especially as it can be assumed the whole of my gestational period will occur on Enterprise,” he explained as evenly as he could, attempting to project as much calm as he could through their bond. “Any interest is likely to be channeled through more tedious and wearisome methods. Perhaps the best measure of protection we can create is a system of message interception and diversion.”
There was a brief moment of silence. “You think we can avoid all that attention by setting up a dummy mailbox?” he asked, incredulity clear in his voice. When Spock nodded, he clicked his jaw. “I-I guess that could work. How long would it take to program one?”
M’Benga cleared his throat, and Jim glared at him in response. “While you are my most interesting appointment of the day - probably of the decade, actually,” the doctor frowned. “I do have other patients today. We need to finish this up in the next five minutes.”
Jim fisted his hands. “You mean there’s more?”
M’Benga nodded again. “Spock is fortunate that his hips are as wide as they are, but he’s still going to have problems as the pregnancy progresses,” the doctor explained. “Discomfort. Pain, even. If it becomes a problem, your ship’s doctor can realign your pelvis, but I don’t recommend it. There is a very real chance you wouldn’t walk for months after having your pelvis realigned. You’ll probably need to be on bed rest for the last ten weeks of your pregnancy, actually, but we’ll see how it goes when the time comes.”
Jim raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “I’m sure you’ve entered all that in for Bones to have a look at, right?”
“Of course,” M’Benga confirmed. He moved his stylus to the screen of the PADD once more. “I’m going to show Spock the growth models. If you truly don’t want to see them, you can wait outside, Captain Kirk.”
Jim frowned. “Thank you,” he muttered, glancing at Spock. “Don’t take too long and don’t project what they look like at me. Okay?”
Spock nodded, and then Jim was outside the room, the door sliding shut behind him. M’Benga laid his PADD flat, tracing a few commands. Before he could finish the sequence, Spock stood.
“I’ve changed my mind,” he said stiffly. He would not be able to keep from sharing with Jim the images of their children, and as such he could not permit himself to look. “Merely include the growth models in with the data you will be giving Dr. McCoy.”
M’Benga smirked. “Had a feeling that was going to be your choice,” he murmured, voice light. He held out the PADD. “Just take this with you. It’s your chart, after all.”
Spock took the instrument. “Much appreciated, Doctor.”
The human’s smirk expanded. “I think I should mention this now rather than let McCoy break it to you,” he said, “but you have to remember that in Vulcan pregnancies, hormonal changes affect the male - Kirk, in this case - more severely than the one carrying the child. Don’t be surprised if he starts exhibiting mood swings, nausea, food cravings, or any of that. It’s tough to tell, since this is an unprecedented situation, but-”
“Acknowledged,” Spock nodded, and he turned to the door and left.
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