She’d avoided looking at herself too closely for the last few weeks, but in the lab, she unbuttoned her coveralls, peeling the top half back. She ran her hand over her stomach. There was a slight roundness to her lower abdomen, but no different than if she was bloated with cramps. Veins of blue criss-crossed against her pale skin, always visible but now thicker, rising above her sports bra and down her abdomen like tree branches. Subtle changes. She wouldn’t have long.

Hart came in as Naomi was buttoning up her coveralls.

“I was going to make you come in for a scan today,” the doctor said. “You beat me to it.”

“Sorry not to ask first. I just needed to know.”

“It’s fine. I get it.” She drew up the scan, peering at it.

“Still healthy, right?” Naomi asked.

“Perfectly. No abnormalities. If the oxygen dips much lower, you’ll have to go on supplemental oxygen.”

Naomi grimaced. “How would I explain that?”

Hart gave her a pointed look. “I know this is not the best time to ask, but have you made up your mind?”

“What, abort or let it suffocate?” Naomi said, wrapping her hands around her stomach.

“It wouldn’t come to that.” Hart put a hand on Naomi’s shoulder. “This is a stubborn ship, but it’s full of even more stubborn women.”

Naomi gave a weak laugh. “That’s true enough.” A hitched breath. “Do you think it’s ridiculous, to even entertain keeping it?”

Hart considered it. “It’d be a challenge. Someone else would have to take over your duties when you’re nearly at term or have an infant. But you’d have access to a full medical lab and a damn good doctor, if I do say so myself.” She fluttered her eyelids. “If we were in microgravity, it’d be more dangerous, but the ring solves a lot of potential problems and complications. I don’t know. I support you either way. It’d be a hell of a thing, though, wouldn’t it? The first baby in space?”

“It would. I’ll let you know in a few weeks. If I haven’t—or if we haven’t—” She hated stumbling over her words.

“Sure,” Hart said, gentle.

Hart gave Naomi some easy tasks to do in the med bay to take her mind off things. They’d just settled into a rhythm when Valerie’s clipped voice came over the comms.

“Crew. To the bridge.”

Hart and Naomi exchanged a look.

“That doesn’t sound like good news,” Hart admitted.