by Tom Andry
Chapter 7
The only person who didn't want me to witness the birth of this child more than the parents, was me. Aside from the obviously rustic choice of furnishings, there were just too many similarities to my past. The man (I guessed him to be the husband by the ring and the fact that he was the only other person in the room besides the pregnant woman, the doctor and me) had the look of ineffectualness that only fathers in a delivery room can have. It's sort of a mixture of empathic pain, guilt, and fear that would be funny if I hadn't been there before. He held her hand, whispered words of encouragement and occasionally remembered lamaze techniques. She responded with derision, glares, and the occasional threat. They'll probably remember this as a beautiful moment. It really wasn't.
The doctor and Assistant were far too busy to even introduce me. They scanned the woman, her bed, and occasionally the father. The doctor was murmuring to himself mostly and once sent Assistant off. I watched as it approached the bedroom door and paused momentarily in front of it. I barely noticed the distortion around the frame. When it exited, I could see the doctor's lab through the doorway. It grabbed a few instruments and returned. As it passed through, the hallway behind reappeared. Whatever teleportation technology they were using was unlike anything I'd ever seen. I'd have to give Liz a head's up about it. I didn't feel a thing.
Eventually the doctor shooed the husband away from the bed. He looked a little relieved though I couldn't help feel a wave of deja vu crash over me. He noticed me standing to the side and approached.
"So, what's your deal?" he asked apprehensively. "You look a little old to be an intern."
"Right, no," I tried to laugh it off and looked for a place for my eyes that didn't have a direct or indirect view of his wife's private parts. "I'm working with," I almost slipped and said his real name, "Doc Arts on... a different project."
"Different?"
I wasn't exactly putting him at ease.
"Sort of private." I extended my hand, "Bob Moore."
"Hi Bob, nice to..." his eyes narrowed in thought, "Moore? You're that PI guy? The one who only investigates supers?"
"That's me."
"I've heard of you." He turned to face me directly, "Maybe you can clear something up for me. Why'd you change your name to Bob Moore? That's kind of a weird name for a PI."
I looked down. Down seemed to be pretty safe, "Well, I didn't change it. My parents gave me the name. I'm thirty-four, so I was named before the supers really started showing up."
He nodded, more to show that he was listening rather than agreeing. "So, how come you don't change it?"
"Because it's my name?" I asked sarcastically.
"Hmm..." He thought some more, "So how come you only investigate supers?"
Before I could answer, we were interrupted by a huge scream. It didn't take a doctor to know that the woman was in much more distress than normal.
"God. I hope he can help," Ed intoned.
I nodded toward the bed, "I'm guessing her power is the problem?"
"Uh-huh. She regenerates. Great for the baby, there isn't a toxin or virus that can survive in her body. Bad thing is, she can't get the baby out. The parts that are supposed to..." he motioned with his hands.
"Rip?" I offered.
"Yeah, rip. Well, they won't. Or at least won't rip long enough for the baby to come out. Arts thought this might happen. He thought he could figure out a way to cut it out of her."
"It?"
He sighed, "Yeah. We didn't want to know the sex of the baby. Doc said we could find out but we didn't want to. You know. Didn't want to get too connected..."
"In case you lost it?" I finished.
"Yeah. I don't have powers and…well, you know."
I nodded, not that he was watching.
He got quiet after that. The doctor seemed to decide that the baby wasn't coming out the normal way so he covered her up a bit and started working on her stomach. He could easily cut her, but as quickly as he could open her up, her skin was closing. Assistant had all four arms in play as the doctor spoke quickly to both it and the mother. Twice more, Assistant returned through the doorway to the lab to get more supplies. Finally, they seemed to be making progress with the wound staying open longer and longer. After about fifteen minutes, they were pulling a crying, gooey baby from its mother's stomach. The minute they turned off their devices, the opening closed up. Whatever power she had, it was significant. I'd heard of healers but never one who healed this fast. I wondered how they had managed to conceive. I supposed it'd be like she was a virgin every time? Every thrust? I cringed just thinking about it.
The doctor took the baby over to a bassinet off to the side of the bed. The parents were all questions. How's the baby? What's the gender? The usual. The doctor was far too busy with the baby to answer. Once the father tried to approach, but again the doctor sent him away, this time with a verbal rebuke. He and Assistant hovered over the baby, syringes and scanners descending upon it like birds diving into the sea after fish. A minute passed…two. The parents stopped asking questions and fell silent as we all listened to the crying of the child, the hum of Assistant's motor, and the murmuring of the doctor. A third minute…fourth. No one moved, the parents were barely breathing. If the stress in the room materialized, you wouldn't be able to see your hand in front of your face. I couldn't help but feel like I was back, in that room, so long ago.