Disclaimer: Liam, the mention Doors, Belman, and Beckett are the property of Roddenberry-Kirscher and Tribune, among others. Rosemary Schultz and Natalie are mine. The poetry at the end is mine.

Poetry for the lost child
by Selma McCrory
copyright 2000

She had just heard the news. Siobhan Beckett was dead.

Rosemary Schultz found herself repeating the words of the Lord's Prayer in Esperanto, not quite sure she wanted to show the outside world what she felt about the woman. Beckett had been a patient, nothing more to her, as far as most of the world knew. But Beckett had been far more than that to her.

Inside her, somewhere, a child was growing that would never know their grandmother. And she'd wanted this child to know all the beauty that was Siobhan in person, not just as the series of memories passed from Siobhan to Liam and then to his child.

Her commscreen lighted up. "Dr. Schultz, Major Kincaid to see you," Natalie, one of the secretaries announced.

"Thanks," she replied. "Send him in."

Liam came in, his face somber, and sat down in her visitor's chair without a word. "I'm sorry, Liam."

"I know," he said simply. "I can't believe they didn't tell me sooner."

With a thrill, Rosemary knew who he was taking about. The Liberation, and no doubt Jonathan Doors in particular. She wasn't supposed to know, but the combination of the sharing and her CVI didn't allow her to forget Liam's knowledge about the Liberation and its members. Doors wasn't happy about her knowledge; Belman, her superior, certainly wasn't. But nobody had much choice in the matter.

"They may not have been able to do much," she offered weakly.

"Maybe," Liam replied. "I was hoping that I could save her."

"I was hoping soon too," Rosemary said softly.

"I need to go back, file my report," Liam said, getting up but not making any effort to leave. He was looking longingly at her, or, as she realized, her lower torso. And she suddenly understood. Getting up, she moved over to him, moving his hand over to where the child was.

He wrapped his other arm around her, and just held her for a few minutes. Then he left without a word.

Sitting down, Rosemary found herself unable to resume the paperwork she'd been working on. Instead, she called up a blank document and began to write.

La maltrova filo piediris la vojo.
Neniu scias, kien li iras.
La vojo estas malluma, malgaja,
Sed nur li povas iri. Neniu povas sekvi.

Li sercxas por sia patrino. Sola, li forgesas,
Ke si estas ne sola. Mi estas cxie tie.
Lia infano estas cxe tie.
Cxu li remembros kiel reveni?*


(* The lost son walks the road.
None know where he goes.
The road is dark, unhappy,
But only he can go. None can follow.

He searches for his mother. Alone, he forgets
That he is not alone. I am here.
His child is here.
Will he remember how to return?)

Earth: Final Conflict fanfics