“Freya?”

She looked up and smiled at Simon. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He stepped into the galley. “Do you … have a minute?”

“Sure,” she said, indicating the chair opposite her. “Just catching up on old news before I go to bed.” She waved the Cortex pad at him.

“Hmmn. Anything interesting?” he asked, sitting down.

“Not really. No mention of your heroic and daring rescue.”

Simon blushed, right to the tips of his ears. “I didn’t rescue anyone.”

“Yes, you did,” she said softly. “And believe me, we’re all very grateful.”

He looked down at his hands, his doctor’s hands, and composed himself. “Yes, well, I'm … I'm glad of that.”

She tried hard not to laugh. “So what can I do for you?”

He looked back at her. “How’s the scar?”

She shrugged. “Sore. But it’s getting better.” She tipped her head to one side slightly. “And you checked it this morning. So what’s up?”

“I … that is, I …” He stumbled to a halt.

“Now this is something I thought I would never see,” Freya said, smiling. “Never thought you’d be lost for words.”

The blush receded from Simon’s face, replaced by a slightly paler tone than usual. “I need to speak to you.”

“Oh.” Something in his voice had the smile dying on Freya’s lips. “Something wrong, is there?”

“Maybe we should have Mal here,” Simon said quickly.

“That bad, is it?” She took a deep breath. “Whatever it is, you’d better tell me.”

“It’s … I did some tests.” He still couldn’t bring himself to say the words.

“Right. And?”

He had to, just had to say it, get the words out that were crowding in his throat. “The injury you sustained, it … you may not be able to have children.” He watched the colour drain from her face. “I'm sorry.”

“I see.” She sat so still she was barely breathing. “You’re sure?”

“No, but … there’s a lot of scar tissue, from earlier injuries as well as this one. Alice … her conception might prove to be … you may not be able to conceive again. I'm sorry.” He hated this, hated having to give bad news. That w