Edwin looked at the doctors, feeling the weight of the decision. He knew that Delia's life was now in their hands.
"Do it," he said, squeezing Delia's hand even tighter. "She's strong. She can do it."
The doctors began to prepare their equipment and prepared to perform the risky procedure. Delia slowly came to, feeling weak and with a searing pain in her stomach. Her eyes opened to find the doctors leaning over her, arguing furiously. Their voices were muffled, but the meaning of their conversation was slowly beginning to sink in.
"We can't afford to take any chances!" insisted Dr. Baselard, a short, old man with thinning gray hair. "Her body is used to the conditions of the Moon. There are processes going on in her body that we don't understand. She must be transported to the Moon Base as soon as possible. We have the technology and the specialists there who can treat her wound and stabilize her condition."
"You're being overdramatic, Baselard," young Dr. Hastings said irritably. "She's here on Earth, and as a witness in the Byrnes case, she's not entitled to these procedures. You can't just send her to the Moon. Besides, her status on Earth is only temporary. Earth laws don't allow for special treatment for citizens of other planets."
"Laws?!" Baselard looked at him with undisguised indignation. "We're not talking about laws, we're talking about her life. If we don't take action now, she might not live to see the Moon Base."
"She risked her life knowing what she was doing," Hastings insisted. "And now we can't change protocols just because her blood is space-bound. Here on Earth, we have to treat her within the limits of what's available to everyone."
Delia, weak but still listening to their conversation, felt her heart tighten. She knew that her body was unusual, that her abilities were the result not only of her long stay on the Moon but also of her unique connection to the energies she had used in her missions against the Convention. She also knew that her status on Earth was truly temporary, and that the doctors had been ruined not just by medical considerations but by political ones. She wanted to say something, but the pain in her stomach was too strong, and she only groaned quietly, attracting the attention of the doctors.
"She's come to," Baselard noted, moving closer to her bed. "Delia, can you hear me?"
She nodded, barely able to get the words out.
"I hear..." her voice was weak. "But... The decision must be yours."
Dr. Hastings frowned but said nothing. Baselard turned back to him.
"Do you see? She understands that she needs specialized help. We can't treat her like a normal person. Her physiology is a mixture of earthly and moon characteristics."
"But you forget that she is a key figure in the Byrnes case," Hastings replied stubbornly. "She will not be released from Earth until her status as a witness is changed."
Edwin, who had been sitting in the corner of the room all this time, stood up abruptly:
"Enough!" His voice cut through the air, silencing both doctors. "Delia is not an ordinary citizen, but she is not a criminal. She is here because she is protecting the Earth and the Moon from real threats. If you cannot provide her with the treatment she needs, we will find a way to get her to the Moon ourselves."
Hastings looked at him but said nothing, knowing that this argument could not be settled with mere words. Baselard sighed and turned to Delia.
"We will do everything possible. But your condition is unstable. If you decide to stay on Earth, we will try to help, but without a guarantee of success."
Delia closed her eyes, realizing that her future was once again hanging in the balance. Her life had been inextricably linked to both planets, and now, with her body in need of rescue, she found herself caught between two worlds—and two warring doctors.
"The moon..." she whispered. "I need to go to the moon."
Baselard nodded, knowing that this was the only right choice, albeit a dangerous one.
"I'll try to arrange transportation. But we don't have much time," he said.
Dr. Hastings still looked displeased, but he didn't object. Delia lay on the medical bed, her body exhausted, every muscle aching. Her breathing had become uneven, and with each breath she felt her strength draining away. In the corner of the room, Edwin watched her, unable to hide his concern. He could see her condition worsening, and every time she took a labored breath, his heart sank in helplessness. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore and approached one of the doctors.
"We need medical records," he demanded, his voice tight. "She needs to know what's happening to her body. If she has to make a choice, she needs to understand the risks."
Dr. Baselard looked at Edwin with understanding, if slightly doubtful, expression.
"I'm not sure she's capable of making such decisions," he said softly. "But if you insist..."
"She has a right to know," Edwin snapped. "Bring everything you have. We can't wait."
A few minutes later, Edwin had a thin tablet with Delia's medical data in his hands. He returned to her bed and sat down next to her, showing her the screen. Delia opened her eyes with difficulty, her vision was blurry, but she focused on the data.
"Look, Delia..." Edwin began, his voice quiet but insistent. "The risks of transport are listed here. Dr. Baselard thinks sending to the moon is the best option. But it could be dangerous in your condition."
Delia raised her hand with difficulty, touching the tablet screen. Her fingers trembled as she tried to understand the complex medical terms that explained her condition. Her unstable psi-kinetic abilities, linked to the energies of the moon, made the situation far more complex than a simple wound. The doctors did not know how her body reacted to injuries, or how long she could remain in this state without special assistance.
"Edwin..." she whispered, her voice weak but determined. "I can't stay here. We can't trust them."
Edwin frowned, looking back at the doctors outside the door.
"I know," he said. "But going to the Moon isn't that easy. The Convention might get in the way, and your status on Earth complicates things."
Delia took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She knew she couldn't trust anyone completely. Even the doctors could be under the influence of the Convention or part of its game. But she knew one thing: she couldn't give up. Her condition was worsening, and every hour on Earth was time lost.
"We have to leave," she said softly. "Leave this place... and find a way to get to the moon."
Edwin nodded, his eyes full of worry but also determination. He knew they couldn't wait while the doctors argued and lost precious time.
"I'll find a way," he promised, standing up. "You hold on, Delia. We'll get you out of here."
At that moment, Delia felt a small spark of hope. But inside her, there was still anxiety. The Convention would not leave her alone. After long and painful negotiations, the hospital's chief physician, Dr. Baselard, gathered all the participants in the discussion in a small office. His face was serious, and his voice was full of determination.
"The situation is critical," he began. "We are losing time, and every moment counts. I offer a solution that could save Delia's life."
He paused and all eyes in the room turned to him.
"If we can get temporary Moon citizenship for Delia, she can be sent to the Moon Base for advanced treatment. It's the only option that can ensure her safety and recovery."
Edwin bit his lip, his mind racing. He knew it could be dangerous, but he also knew Delia had no choice. Their time on Earth was running out, and her condition was only getting worse.
"We have to act quickly," he said, looking at the doctors. "If this is the only chance, I will support her."
Lying on her bunk, Delia felt hope rise in her, but also anxiety. She knew that evacuating to the Moon Base carried many risks. The Convention would not leave her alone even if she left Earth. But if this was the only way to recovery, she could not refuse.
"I agree," she said, trying to sound confident despite her weakness. "I'm ready to evacuate."
Dr. Baselard nodded, his face relaxing slightly but still focused.
"Very well," he said. "I will contact the Moon Federation and see if they can agree to grant temporary status."
Edwin took Delia's hand, his warmth giving her confidence.
"We'll do everything we can to keep you safe," he said. "I won't leave you."
After that, Dr. Baselard left the room to contact the Moon Federation. Edwin stayed by Delia's side, observing her condition. Delia began to understand that the choice between love and duty was not the only one she would have to face. She exchanged glances with Edwin.
"Everything will be fine," she said, trying to convince not only him, but herself as well.
Edwin nodded, but his eyes betrayed a worry he didn't want to show. He hugged her, and the embrace was full of hope, friendship, and promise.
"I'll be waiting for you," he said. "Be sure to come back."
As the capsule Delia was transported into began to rise into the atmosphere, she felt the Earth's gravity weaken. At the same time, her psi-kinetic abilities began to worry, as if they sensed an approaching threat. Delia clenched her fists, feeling the energy building in her body.
The capsule, filled with bright light, crossed the boundary of the atmosphere and rushed into infinity. Delia felt relief, as if she could exhale after a long period of tension. And as soon as the capsule entered the orbit of the Moon and began to land, she was amazed by the beauty of her home world. The glittering surface of the Moon seemed so close and at the same time so far away. Delia took a deep breath and felt her heart fill with determination.
When she finally emerged from the capsule, she was overwhelmed by a multitude of impressions. The bright, sterile corridors of the Moon Base, the smell of medical supplies, and the gentle pressure of low gravity all brought her back to her home environment. However, this time there was no joy in returning. As Delia walked down the corridor to get to her room, she unexpectedly met Sergeant Schaeymoure, her old mentor. His stern but kind gaze had always been a comfort to her.
"Delia," he said with relief when he saw her. "You're back."
She couldn't help but smile slightly, but then she noticed that he didn't look like he usually did. There was worry in his eyes.
"I know you don't like it when I interfere," he continued, approaching her. "But I have something prepared for you."
He handed her a heavy white package. Delia looked at him, puzzled, trying to figure out what exactly he wanted to say.
"This is a gift for you," Schaeymoure said and winked at her.
"What gift? What is it?" Delia asked, but Schaeymoure just shook his head.
"Open it when you get to your room," he said, his tone serious. "But remember, sometimes gifts can be unexpected."
Delia took the bundle and felt its weight in her hands. She instinctively knew that it was more than just a material object. A feeling of unease arose within her, but also curiosity.
"You won't fool me?" she asked, feeling the tension building inside her.
"I have things to do," Schaeymoure replied coldly. "But I'll be in touch. Make sure you take care of yourself, Delia. We need you."
Her heart sank at the words. She knew he cared, and it reminded her of how much her absence could affect others. When he was gone, Delia was left alone with the bundle in her arms. She went to her room and unwrapped it with trembling hands.
For the first minute she couldn't believe her eyes "inside was not just an object "it was a real baby, who was lying and quietly snoring. He had a tiny nose and thin fingers that twitched from time to time, as if he felt that he was being examined. Delia could not contain her shock. She blinked, trying to comprehend the reality of what was happening. At that moment Schaeymoure entered the room, and seeing her confused face, with a slight smile asked:
"So, how do you like my surprise?
"How? Why?" Delia gasped. "What does this mean? Why is he here?"
Schaeymoure came closer and sat down next to her, his gaze becoming serious.
"This is your brother, Galbraith. He was created from your cells as part of a classified experiment. When you flew to Earth on your own business, we decided to give you a gift "just in case. The idea was conceived before you left, and this cloned brother became a symbol of your return."
Delia felt her breath catch. It all sounded absurd, but at the same time, so real. Her cells, her blood, and now her own brother in front of her.
"But this is madness!" she cried. "How could they decide to create it without my consent?"
Schaeymoure sighed, understanding her concerns.
"It was an experiment in which we hoped to create something unique. We know that you carry special abilities within you, and Galbraith could be an example of how such abilities can be developed. We couldn't notify you because it was still in development."
Delia, continuing to look at the baby, noticed that he was sleeping, serene and innocent. She felt her heart fill with mixed feelings: fear, joy and bitterness.
"And what about his name?" she finally asked, trying to focus on something else to distract herself from her disturbing thoughts.
Schaeymoure chuckled.
"Originally, they were going to call him Alexander, after Alexander the Great. But at the last minute, they changed their minds. Galbraith sounded more serious," he said with a grin.
Delia couldn't help but smile. All this absurdity seemed so far from her reality. She took Galbraith in her arms, and in that moment she felt a connection between them, strong and tender.
"But what now? What should I do with him?" she asked, looking at Schaeymoure.
"You must take care of him now, Delia. He is not just your brother; he is a part of you. He may become your ally in the future," he replied, assuming that she understood the full responsibility that had fallen on her shoulders.
Delia nodded and looked down at the baby in her arms. Despite all the difficulties, she couldn't help but laugh as she imagined her mentors discussing a name for her cloned brother.
"Alexander... Seriously?!" she repeated to herself, still not believing in the reality of what was happening.
The thought of what she would call him in everyday life brought a slight smile to her face.
"Hello, Alexander the Great?" she laughed to herself.
Yes, it was no wonder they had changed their minds. Galbraith sounded simpler, even sweeter. She couldn't help but feel a little awkward, now that she had a brother she'd never asked for, who had suddenly appeared in her life like a bolt from the blue.
She looked down at the baby sleeping in her arms and tried to imagine what it would be like to be his big sister. So many questions ran through her mind: How would she raise him? How would they bond? And what if the Convention decided he was a threat, too?
Delia tried to push aside her fears, because right now Galbraith was just a helpless baby who needed care and love. She knew she had the opportunity to be more than just a sister to him; she could be his protector, his mentor.
"Hello, Galbraith," she said quietly, as if it would melt the ice in her heart. "I've been through a lot in my life, and I promise I'll always be here for you."
But the more she looked at him, the more she realized that her life had become even more complicated. How could she cope with all the threats associated with the Convention, and at the same time take care of a baby who, despite his genetic roots, was completely innocent?
Delia decided she needed to talk to Schaeymoure. The questions about Galbraith were nagging at her, and she couldn't just sit there in the dark. She put the baby down in the crib and quickly cleaned herself up. When she walked into Schaeymoure's office, he looked relaxed as always. A smile spread across his face when he noticed her.
"Delia! Good to see you! How are you feeling?" he asked, rising from his seat.
"I'm fine," she said, but her voice betrayed her inner unease. "I need to talk to you about Galbraith."
Schaeymoure raised an eyebrow and sat back in his chair.
"Galbraith? Oh, yes, your cloned brother. Questions, questions..." Schaeymoure began rubbing his hands, as if anticipating the conversation. "Something wrong?"
"Why didn't you warn me beforehand?" Delia asked, trying to remain calm. "Why did you need cloning at all? It was all so sudden..."
Schaeymoure chuckled, looking at her with a sparkle in his eyes.
"You know, Delia, when we discussed this project, we decided that cloning is interesting and scientific."
He paused, as if waiting for her reaction.
"And finally, we thought it would be nice to give you a gift for your return."
"A gift?" Delia asked, not believing her ears. "So you think a cloned brother is just a gift?"
"In a way, yes!" he said, smiling. "But he's not just a toy! He's your brother now, and you have to take care of him. He has potential, Delia. He could be more than just an experiment."
She looked at him with bewilderment.
"But this is all so unexpected! I don't know what to do with him, with the fact that he was cloned, and that he is even part of this project!"
"Yes, it's a difficult situation, I understand," Schaeymoure said, leaning toward her. "But it's reality now. He's part of your life. And even though this project was completed in your absence, you must now decide how to feel about it."
"And how do I do that?" Delia asked, feeling the weight of responsibility pressing down on her shoulders.
"Well, first of all, understand that it's not his fault how he came into this world," Schaeymoure said, sitting up straight in his chair. "He's just a baby who needs love and care. Yes, he has a peculiar background, but that shouldn't define your relationship."
Delia nodded, trying to process his words. She knew there would be hardships ahead, but at least she had her brother now, and she wasn't alone. The meaning of her life had changed, and this was something new she would have to deal with.
"Thank you, Schaeymoure," she said as she left his office. "I'll try to do my best for Galbraith."
"That's all we need," he said with a smile. "Now go take care of your brother, and don't forget, cloning may be fun, but family ties are even more fun."