by Renee Rose
She nods. “Can we go now?” She looks from Benn to me, a pleading expression on her face. This time when she sits up, she swings her legs over the side of the examination table.
I look at the doctor, who nods. “Eat additional food when hungry. Humans need extra energy when carrying young. More rest, too. See me again in three weeks.”
Danica is already grappling with her clothing and seems not to have heard him. I touch her face, and she flinches, then blinks.
“Did you catch that?” I stroke her hair. “About the food?”
She nods. “Yes, Master.”
She steps to the door, then turns back. “Thank you.” She clears her throat and darts forward. Benn follows, but as I turn on my heel, the doctor touches my shoulder.
“A moment.” He looks toward Danica and Benn, who are already many paces ahead, then back at me. “In private?”
“What is it?” I want to be with my mate, and I’m irritated at this delay.
The doctor lowers his voice. “The brain scan on this fetus is unusual.”
“And?” Icy dread trickles down my back. “Does that mean something is wrong with the young?” I step forward, adrenaline spiking, peering at the muddled picture frozen on the screen. The details mean nothing to me, other than the important one: It’s my young. My future.
“I don’t know.” His voice is stiff. “Human-Zandian young are still rare, and we don’t know everything. This may be fine. I’d like to keep a closer eye on her progress, though.” He pulls up the brain scan holos. A frown spreads across his face.
“Bayla?” I can hear the pleading tone to my voice as I turn to the midwife.
She doesn’t meet my eyes. “Every gestation is different. Just make sure she’s eating and resting appropriately.”
I nod. “Can I do anything else?” I hate feeling helpless.
“Don’t worry her,” Bayla says, after a short pause.
“So this is a secret?” I raise my voice, stomach churning.
Dr. Daneth puts his hand out. “Additional anxiety in humans is not healthy for the young. There is no need to worry her. But”—he tilts his head and looks at me, as if trying to say something I won’t quite understand—“I’d like to do a little more analysis on these brain scans and see if I can answer some questions I have.”
I breathe out. “What do mean, questions?” I clench my fists. His attitude is making me both scared and angry.
He shakes his head. “I’ll let you know as soon as I complete my review.” He raises his hand and strides from the room.
“It will probably be fine.” Bayla turns to clean the sono module, her movements quick and concise. She gives me a small smile, but it doesn’t meet her eyes. “We’ll see you soon.”
When I rejoin Benn and Danica at our hovercraft, her face has regained color and she’s laughing. He smiles down at her, and for a moment I’m focused just on the three of us, our family, forgetting the doctor’s words.
“What did he want?” Benn glances over as he helps Danica up the steps into the craft, touching her ass as he does.
“Just reminded me about food.” I swallow hard.
Benn tilts his head and gives me a quizzical look. He knows me too well. Zandians believe it’s dishonorable to lie, but I haven’t lied. I just didn’t tell the whole truth. I shake my head—not now.
“All right.” His voice is easy, but he frowns before he turns back to Danica with a grin. “Come on, then, human. Let’s get you home. I think we need to do some practice on building the next young.”
Danica
The lovemaking, as usual, is phenomenal. During it, I forget everything but the pleasure, moments of perfect bliss that almost make up for the worries consuming me.
Afterward, I feel the need to stay busy to keep the thoughts at bay. I get up and dress, leaving my two mates lazing on the sleepdisk, sated expressions on their faces, and head to my crafting bench.
“I’ve been working on something new.” I pick up my latest creation and turn it over in my hands, examining the wires and metal. I compare it to the schematic on the comms unit, a flashing blue and silver digital map, and frown. The layout is acceptable, but I think I could reduce the amount of space needed if I moved the charging capacitor over—
“What is that?” Gorde, ever attentive, glances over.
“It’s a phaser.” I flush.
“What do you know about those?” His voice holds nothing negative—no contempt or anger. It’s just a question, but to answer it requires information I can’t quite explain.
“Nothing, when I started.” I put it down. “Drayn showed me how he’s building them, and as soon as I saw it, something just clicked in my brain. Like I automatically understood how they go together. So, because I need to do something, I offered to try and improve it.”
“But in your past you never did any tech work, right?” Gorde gets up and saunters over. I catch my breath at his naked torso, his cock impressive even now that he’s not erect, his thighs powerful.
“You know I was a sex slave.” I look back at the device in my hands. “No, I never had the chance.”
“And yet you”—he pauses. He knows I don’t like discussing my past. Refuse to—“have already learned to cipher?” his voice holds surprise.
I stick up my chin. I admit my ability to learn lately seems enhanced, but I’m not going to discuss that fact with my mates. “Bayla said humans learn fast, once we are given the chance. Yes. I did learn to cipher.”
“By the stars,” he muses, admiration written into his expression. “Do you know how long it takes Zandian children?”
“I’m no child.” I turn away, rubbing my belly.
“I know that. It’s just remarkable a being with no experience can do it so quickly.” There’s something in his tone I can’t quite place.
“Are you jealous?” I tease. “Feeling threatened by the clever little human?” I flip the device. “Who can learn Zandian tech so quickly that it makes you worried?”
He crosses his arms. “Threatened by a human? Not likely.” He scoffs. But then he touches my arm and his expression softens. “And you amaze me—us, every day. Absolutely.”
I shrug, glancing again at the digilayout. “We humans are actually pretty intelligent.” It’s true. On Zandia, I’ve come to find humans have skills at logical analysis and a vast, untapped creativity that—when unleashed—seems unstoppable. Bayla even told me, in an undertone, that some Zandians and humans are both starting to think that humans may even rival Zandians in intellectual ability. Once we are fully trained, there’s no telling what our capabilities will be.
I pick up my robotweeze and try to insert the cap into the new location, but it’s a tight squeeze. I frown and without warning and a small spark, the thing is complete in my hands.
I squeak and drop it onto the table, fingers trembling.
“Danica?” Gorde steps closer. “You okay?”
I take a deep breath and nod. “I’m fine.” There’s no mistaking it this time. I made it move with my mind. I touch my stomach and the creature inside stirs, either a kick or a press of the arm. I push back, and the baby presses again, as if sensing me and reacting. I repeat the action, and the young presses once again. Asking me. Telling me.
I put my other hand to my mouth and Gorde sees my face.
“Is it the young? It’s moving?” He strides closer. “Is he kicking?”
He comes forward and presses his hand to my belly. “Can I feel it?” His voice is reverent, and I think I see something else, though—a kind of worry, or anxiety. But he sounds excited enough. “Danica—he’s moving! Benn, get over here!”
“She.” The word comes out automatically as Benn jogs up and touches my belly.
“Dr. Daneth said it’s too early to tell.” Benn’s strong hand moves across my stomach. “He’s active.”
“It’s a girl. I can tell.” The feel of their two hands on my belly, protective, gentle, brings tears to my eyes.
“Most
Zandian young are males,” Gorde cautions me.
“I can tell.” She told me.
“We’ll see.” Benn seems unconvinced.
I bite my lip. Yes, we certainly will. But what we’ll see…that’s something I can’t be sure of. I need to tell them the truth now, but when I look at their faces, so full of love and eager anticipation, the words stick in my throat. And I say nothing.
Chapter 11
Danica
I’m here. Don’t hurt me. I’m here. Big round eyes, a sweet face. Don’t hurt me. Don’t let them hurt me. Hand grabbing her, tearing her away from me. Blood.
I gasp and sit up in bed, panting, sweat dripping from my forehead, a strangled cry dying in my throat. I put both hands onto my swelling belly, making sure everything is still okay.
Gorde is awake in an instant. “Danica!” He grabs me. “You’re burning up.”
He wipes my forehead. “You never sweat this much. Benn, get her fluids.”
Benn, too, is alert instantaneously—they’re warriors, always ready to react—and he comes over with a water container for me.
I gulp the cool liquid, then start to cry.
“It was a nightmare.” Gorde pulls me to his body, stroking my arm. “It’s all right.” His hands are warm and calming, but I can’t relax.
“It was so real.” I’m shaking.
“What was it? Memories of your previous master?” Benn touches my shoulder.
“Yes.” I lie. “Please, I just want to relax.” Don’t let them hurt me. I cry out and grab his hands. “Hold me. Just hold me, please?”
“Tomorrow we’ll take her to Dr. Daneth.” Gorde’s voice is low as he strokes me. “Danica, your nightmares are getting worse. It can’t be good for you or the baby.”
“I know.” My voice is muffled, talking into his chest.
“So let us help you.” His voice is taut. “If you tell us about your past, we won’t judge. We can help you.”
I shake my head. “I need more time.”
He blows out a breath. “What happens when we run out of time?”
I stiffen in his arms. What, indeed? “I’m sorry, but I’m not ready.”
He slides me over to Benn and stands up. I hate that my reticence is driving a wedge between us, but right now, I’m giving all I can.
“There are other humans here with difficult pasts. Maybe talking to one of them will help.”
He paces the chamber, then when I don’t respond, he curses under his breath. “I’m going to exercise.”
“At this hour?” Benn raises his eyebrows.
“I need to clear my head.” Gorde disappears out the door.
In the sudden silence, the only thing I hear is my breathing and Benn’s, but when I concentrate, I hear everything: the creaks of the building, and Gorde’s footfalls, already half a mile distant, his strong feet crunching down on the blue Zandian gravel along the footpath. A night bird trills, something lonely in high notes, leaves rustling softly around it. Finally Gorde runs out of my auditory range, and I shudder.
“What?” Benn grasps me. “Danica?”
How can I tell him that I’m changing into something else—something un-human—day by day? I shake my head. “I’m fine.”
When she sees me, Bayla’s face goes into an oh of surprise. “Danica! Come in. I wasn’t expecting you.” She glances at my abdomen.
“Hi.” I swallow hard and enter her chamber. “I wanted to talk with you.”
“Of course.” She smiles at me. “Would you like some tea? Our queen is growing chamomile now, an old Earth botanical that is soothing for expectant mothers.” She gestures to her cabinet.
“She’d prefer water,” I say automatically, the knowledge coming to me without pause. Then, at Bayla’s expression, I cough and amend it to, “I mean, I’d prefer water, right now.”
She hands me a container. “You’re big for this stage of pregnancy. Feeling tired?”
I nod.
We sit in silence for a few minutes while I drink my water and listen to her heartbeat and the blood whooshing through her veins, a soothing sound that I’ve learned to put into the background.
"What did you want to ask?” Bayla’s face is guarded but kind.
I shrug. “I was curious about the birthing process in general.” I swallow. “I watched the holograms, but…” I bite my lip. “Have you any experience with young that are not human-Zandian mixes?”
She smiles. “One Zandian-Zandian, as well. A Zandian female named Eslyn and her three mates were blessed with a young this solar cycle.”
I nod. “Have you ever learned about other young? They stay pregnant for different time frames, right?”
She quirks a brow, and to my relief doesn’t ask why I need to know. “Other beings have different gestation periods. For instance, the Tellurians have a gestation period of merely two months. But the Finn, it’s seventeen.” I shudder, thinking of the transport owner back on Hectan-3.
I nod and tap my foot. “Genes mix, right?”
She blinks. “What’s your question, Danica?”
“What if, say”—I take a deep breath—“what if a cruel species mated with a nice species. Could the resulting offspring be…good?” I trail off, clenching one hand in the other.
She touches my knotted fingers. “Danica?”
I shake my head. “I’m just wondering. The whole thing is so amazing, you know?”
She sighs. “Well, anything is possible, I suppose. But without experience, it’s impossible to predict.”
“But what if the baby told the mother it was a good creature?”
“They can’t do that.” She squeezes my palm. “Not until they’re far older. Are you nervous, Danica? I promise we’ll take care of you and your young.” But when she looks at me, I get that strange feeling again. The way she doesn’t quite meet my eyes. What does she know? I was relieved that nobody commented after the sono, but soon enough, the truth will come out.
“I know you will.” I sip the water. “I want to know what will happen. So I can be prepared.”
“Let’s go over it.”
As she talks, showing me pictures, holding up supplies, I nod and pay close attention to what I’m going to need as a bare minimum to do this safely. By myself. Just in case it comes to that.
Chapter 12
Gorde
“So Taxx still won’t say anything?” I blow out my breath and turn to Master Seke, the old warrior who trained every surviving Zandian after our planet was invaded. He’s a father figure to us. A mentor. His face looks more lined than usual, and I wonder if the pressures of keeping Zandia guarded are getting to him.
“He’s gone mute.” Seke strides to the window and looks out.
“I still don’t understand why he wanted to take the ship, and Danica both.” I frown. “We had just saved his life and brought him back to his homeland. What could be so compelling that’d he’d commit a high crime to immediately leave?”
Seke frowns. “My best guess is blackmail.”
“How?” I glance over at him.
“I think he was being compelled to do it. But for what reason?” He crosses his arms.
“Why can’t he just tell us?” My voice is sharp.
“Beings are rarely logical, even Zandians.” The Master at Arm’s voice is dry. “Upfront communication could solve so many problems.”
“What could be more important than his own life?” I clench a fist. “He knows the death penalty is on the table for him.” I shoot a glance at Seke. “Isn’t that right?”
“It’s been discussed, but King Zander will not execute a Zandian.” Seke’s voice is firm. “Not even for treason.”
I nod. “But he’s willing to live his entire life in prison?”
“It appears so.” Seke folds his arms over his chest. “How is your new mate?”
My shoulders tighten. “Fine. The young is growing and she should deliver, Dr. Daneth said, in three lunar cycles.”
The old warrior shoots me an ex
pressive glance. “Yet you seem worried. Why?”
I shake my head. “She’s moody. Night terrors. Closed off.” I don’t tell him what Dr. Daneth said about the infant’s brain scan, or the size of the baby. The need to do more examination of the holos.
He flicks a brow. “Human females are sensitive and perplexing creatures, even without pregnancy hormones.”
I think of her terror-stricken face the other day when she woke up from her nightmare. “I hope so.”
Seke slaps me on the shoulder. “Another Zandian. It will be a day to celebrate.”
“Balance out the numbers,” I try to joke. “I brought in a bad one, so I’ll give you a good one, a new one, to make up for it.”
His hand presses into my arm. “No, Gorde. Never blame yourself. You had no control over Taxx’s plans. You did what we asked, which was to rescue a Zandian. What he did after that is not your responsibility.”
“I didn’t watch him closely enough.” Failure makes me so angry I could shout. “I failed her and Zandia. I didn’t recognize the danger.”
“Yet you reacted quickly, you and Benn, and were able to disarm him.”
“Yes.” My voice is uncertain. That moment is fixed in my mind forever—the look on Danica’s face, almost like she knew what I wanted her to do. Then the way she bent down in concentration, and the way Taxx froze. More and more, I feel that she’s hiding something big.
“Your training and your reflexes saved the situation.” His voice is calm.
I’m not entirely convinced he’s right, and I shake my head. “The whole thing was a mess.”
He slaps my shoulder again. “Our life is going to be a series of messes and successes from here on out. This rebuilding isn’t for the weak, Gorde. We will never be perfect. But we need to do our best, and keep moving forward.” He looks into my face. “Do you understand? We make the best of what we have, and we use all of our resources.”
I nod, encouraged. “I do. Thank you, Master.”