by Isobel Hart
Dr Nichols nodded. “I know, it’s a problem. I’m looking into it.”
“In the meantime, Dr Nichols, why don’t you share our other piece of delightful news? I can’t wait to see her reaction.” Even Edward smiled at the prospect of whatever they were about to tell me.
“Well,” Dr Nichols began, pausing to clear his throat. “Well,” he started again, “we analysed your blood samples. I’m sorry it took so long, but we’ve had a few issues that have kept us otherwise occupied. Anyway, I took your blood the other day, as you know. We look for any hereditary issues that might affect our breeding programme, as well as each female’s general health status. Given you’d been so poorly I was concerned you may have a serious underlying condition. The good news is that you are a quite magnificent specimen. Just perfect,” he added with emphasis.
I crossed my arms in front of me. Edward turned to scowl at the doctor.
Dr Nichols ignored him. “The even better news is that you’re already pregnant.”
Chapter 23
“I can’t be, that’s not possible,” I said, my mind reeling.
“I think you can,” Edward supplied with a cocky grin, his smugness reaching insufferable levels. “We really were very proactive in the bedroom if you recall?”
“I was on the pill.”
“It’s not one hundred percent effective, and you weren’t on the pill from the start.”
“I took the morning-after pill the first time we had unprotected sex. I didn’t want your baby!”
“The morning-after pill has also been known not to be completely effective,” Dr Nichols supplied, looking delighted by the news. “You’re clearly very fertile. A real asset to our group. One of our first successes, we believe, although we hope to have a number following on close behind you.” He rubbed his hands, looking gleeful at the prospect.
“I can’t be,” I whispered, my eyes fixing on Edward’s. He looked oddly proud as he gazed down at me with a soft expression. “Are you sure it’s yours?” I said, despite knowing it couldn’t be Elliott’s – we’d only had sex that one time a few weeks ago, and we’d used a condom. I hadn’t slept with anyone else.
Edward was around the table and beside me in a flash, his face twisted in rage and jealousy. “Who else did you fuck apart from that doctor?” His hand hung in the air, poised to grab my neck, his breathing ragged as he tried to control himself.
“Back off, Edward, before you end up killing her and the baby. We know it’s yours,” Richard said, sounding bored.
“How? How do you know?” Edward stepped closer to me so I knew the immediate danger hadn’t passed. I stayed pressed against the bed, his eyes never leaving mine.
“There are viral traces in her blood,” Dr Nichols informed us. “They’ve entered her system via the embryo. It means the embryo has to contain traces of our DNA, because it can’t be transmitted via droplets like it was in the mist to the male population. There’s no doubt it’s yours, Edward, so look after her please. At least until she has it, and even then . . . We’re not sure what the miscarriage rate will be with the combination DNA offspring and, until we know how to select out the suitable breeding partners, we need to look after the women who prove able to carry. We need to protect them and their babies until we have more data. So far very few seem to be progressing past the six-week stage before the pregnancy self-terminates; it’s very frustrating. From the blood tests, we believe Samantha may be considerably further along than that, which makes her rather special.”
“She is,” Edward agreed, reaching out to cup my face gently. I flinched, staggering slightly as the adrenaline left my body in a rush, taking all my energy with it. He scooped me into his arms and placed me carefully on the bed.
“Bring over the machine,” Dr Nichols instructed the nurse.
“What machine? What are you going to do to me?” I said, frightened again now.
“Calm yourself, Samantha, it’s not good for the baby,” Richard soothed, his voice sending chills through me. “We just need to ascertain how far along you are. It’s only an ultrasound.”
The nurse wheeled the machine closer from its position against the wall. Dr Nichols took a second to switch everything on, before picking up the probe and moving to my side.
“If the baby is too early we’ll need to carry out a trans-vaginal scan,” he explained. I started to protest, there was no way I would let him stick a probe inside me, but he ignored me. “Lift your robe, please, Samantha.”
I looked around at the other men in the room, unwilling to expose myself to them.
“Do you need us to do it for you, Samantha?” Richard laughed. “I know I’d be willing to volunteer.” Edward scowled again. “It’s nothing Edward hasn’t seen before, and Dr Nichols is a consummate professional. I’m reasonably sure I can restrain myself.”
“Pull the fucking robe up, Samantha,” Edward said. I complied, hating the way all three of them eyed my small white lace knickers with hungry expressions on their faces. “Get on with it,” Edward added, after he looked up and saw the looks on his companions’ faces, his irritation directed towards them rather than me now.
Dr Nichols picked up a plastic bottle attached to the side of the machine and squirted some cool blue gel straight onto my abdomen, placing the probe into the middle of the mess and smearing it all around my lower belly. He pressed firmly, almost painfully, into my lower abdomen, directly over my womb, as his eyes flickered between my stomach and the screen. His forehead creased in concentration.
I stared at the swirling grey images on the screen, wondering what would happen to me if they found nothing there. My tummy was still flat; it was easier to deny everything than accept the horrific reality a baby would present. Then I remembered the tiredness I’d been feeling, the repeated nausea and vomiting that I’d put down to all the stress I had been under, the tender breasts and ill-fitting clothes, and my heart sank. It sank further when the sound of a galloping heartbeat filled the room.
“There,” the doctor breathed, turning the screen so the rest of us could see better. We all peered at the monitor, a spectrum of emotions on our faces.
“How many weeks is it?” Edward asked, eyes fixed on the screen, a soft smile curling the corners of his mouth. Richard’s gaze held an intensity that was unnerving. I was as transfixed as anyone at the sight of the small life-form, identifiably a baby, flipping about inside my tummy, amazed I couldn’t feel its internal gymnastics.
Dr Nichols clicked on various points of the baby’s limbs and head, capturing the measurements. “I estimate between ten and twelve weeks,” he pronounced finally. The men all sat back happily.
“Nearly into the second trimester, Samantha,” Richard breathed. “Well done. That’s extremely pleasing.” Edward said nothing as he continued to stare at the screen. “Do you know what sex it is yet?” Richard asked.
“It’s difficult to tell for certain until around the twenty-week point. I’ll check weekly, though. As soon as I know anything, I’ll let you know.”
“If you manage a daughter, Samantha, you’ll almost have made up for all the trouble you’ve caused us,” Richard said with a laugh. “You’ll both be the most precious females to our kind, which is ironic given how many times I’ve wanted to kill you.” He looked between Edward and the doctor. “Look after her. See she eats well and rests. Nothing physically strenuous, and no more temper tantrums from you,” he added, directing his cool gaze at Edward this time. “I want to know when she’s into her second trimester,” he said to Dr Nichols.
“I want her with me,” Edward said, breaking his silence.
“No. We can’t trust her yet. Let her stay in a room up here, by all means, but she needs to be locked in, until she learns her place. Then, if she’s good, we can grant her some additional freedoms. In the meantime, you’re welcome to come and see her whenever you wish. It is your child, after all. Well done,” he said, clapping Edward on the back, as if he’d done something more notable than knock me up. �
�I’ll contact the others,” he continued. “We have a global council meeting planned for tomorrow. As far as I know, this is the first pregnancy to reach this stage. We’ll need to find out what’s made her different,” he said to Dr Nichols.
“I’ll look into it.”
Richard left, and then we were just three. Or four, I realised. My gaze slid back to the screen, where the doctor continued to examine the baby. I tried to see what he could, but the details were lost on me. It looked normal: one head, two arms, two legs, nothing to suggest any sort of Alien-esque mutant planning to burst out of my stomach. As it started to suck its thumb, I reminded myself I didn’t want this baby, that it was half one of them and could threaten our future. At the same time my hormones surged, I found myself oddly affected by the sight. I’d sucked my thumb until I was thirteen and had the overbite to prove it.
“Well, that will do for now,” Dr Nichols said, as he wiped the gel from my belly with a paper towel, discarding it in the wastepaper basket in the corner of the room. He peeled off his blue latex gloves, disposed of them and then pushed the machine back against the wall. “Either the nurse or I will need to pop back to take some more blood from you,” he said, looking at both Edward and me, “but I probably have enough for what I need today. In the meantime, can I get you anything?”
“I’ll get her anything she needs,” Edward said, before I could answer.
“I’ll prescribe you some vitamin supplements and folic acid.” He ignored Edward. “I’ll see you soon, Samantha,” he said, adding a wink.
“Leave – now,” Edward said. The doctor nodded at him and grinned, throwing me another parting wink before he left the room.
When the door closed behind him Edward sat down heavily on the desk chair, rolling it over until he was beside the bed.
“Are they seriously going to leave me locked in a room for the next six months?” I said, wondering just how mad I’d be after that amount of time.
“If they have to. Like Richard said, once they think they can trust you you’ll be able to start mixing with the other women, but you’ve been a pain in the arse so far. You’ll need to change your attitude and stop fighting with Richard every chance you get.”
“He killed people.”
“Because of your interference. They didn’t trust him anymore, something had to be done.”
“He didn’t have to kill them.”
“They were old. It was easier.”
“Wow, seriously? What are you? Some kind of Himmler virus, or something?”
“Himmler virus.” He laughed. “I’ve missed you Sam. I remember why I liked you so much. You’re so much more interesting than the other women I’ve met so far.”
“I assume you mean Serena!” I snorted. “That’s not exactly difficult. It was hardly her weighty intellect you liked about her in the first place. More like her ready, willing and able vagina.”
He laughed again, before turning serious. “It wears thin after a while.” He looked down at himself. “I prefer a deeper connection, more of a meeting of minds. It matters more than I expected it to. I’m not the only one. It’s been a problem for a lot of us.”
I laughed, but it sounded hollow; “Well, that wasn’t my experience with you before. At the wedding, you seemed totally unconcerned who you were sticking it in.” I turned away to hide the hurt thinking about that day still caused. The hurt morphed into anger and frustration. “How the hell did I end up here with you?”
“Sam, believe me, I, I mean Edward, had more of a connection with you than anyone else. He would have been pleased about this baby. I’m pleased about this baby. More than pleased.”
I stared at him, struggling to find words. “How on earth can you know that? About before, I mean.”
“There are echoes of him here,” he said, tapping his head. “Memories, I guess, that influence some of my thoughts and responses. I can feel what he would’ve thought from the echoes of what he felt before. The synaptic pathways he developed remember his responses. So I remember them. He would’ve liked you to have his child. I like that you’ll have my child.” He reached out and rested his hand on my lower stomach, the soft touch incredibly intimate. My breath caught as his thumb traced the slight curve of my abdomen. His gaze slid from my belly to my face, eyes dark with emotion.
He tried to kill you.
I pulled away, slid my legs to the side and stood, pulling down my gown.
“You’d better show me to my new cell.”
“Samantha–”
I held up my hand again to stop him. “The thing is, you’re not Edward, are you? Edward is dead. You’ve just occupied his body, like a parasite.” I shuddered, remembering his touch. “So I don’t really care what you think he would’ve felt. Or what you feel for that matter.”
“He’d already died. He didn’t need this body anymore.”
“Maybe, maybe not. You didn’t give him much of a choice in the matter. Or me,” I said, pointing at my stomach. “You didn’t tell me, or any of the rest of the harem out there that you’re trying to impregnate, that you’re not fully human. That you’re trying to breed your DNA into the human race. Tell me, will humans cease to exist?”
“We’ll become a new species. A species containing all our genetic information. You might call that evolution.”
“I would call it an invasion.”
“Life will continue. It’ll be better.”
“Human life won’t continue. You’ve been killing people to speed up the process of taking control. Hell, you nearly killed me.”
“I’m sorry about that, Sam, genuinely. You made me so angry when I found the pills. I thought we’d connected. When I found them on the floor I saw red. It shouldn’t have happened. It’s taking me time to control the emotions this body feels. The strength of feeling overwhelms me sometimes. You provoke my strongest reactions of all.”
“How did you heal yourself so fast after I hit you?” It had been something I’d wondered about since it had happened.
“It’s one of the qualities we possess. It makes us more robust – means we can repair the bodies we occupy at their initial death more quickly.”
“If I hadn’t hit you, would you have killed me?”
“Yes, probably,” he said.
“You’ve killed others?”
“No!” He sounded shocked at the suggestion. My scepticism must have shown. “Others have taken that approach. They’re impatient to get control of the population before we’re discovered. You’re technologically advanced. It means we don’t have much time to establish ourselves before we’re discovered. With that, and your slow rate of reproduction, it makes this a difficult transition.”
“Maybe we don’t want to transition.”
“I don’t imagine most species would ever even know.”
“I’m guessing most species are somewhat less evolved. If they’re simple-celled organisms I’m not sure they’d care one way or another. Tell me,” I said, as another thought struck me, “does that mean you’ve occupied other species, apart from humans, here?” He nodded. “Plants too?”
“No. We’re only compatible with sentient lifeforms.”
“You’re being very open,” I said suspiciously. I hesitated, “I’m never getting out of here, am I?”
“Why would you want to?”
“Why would I want to?” I echoed, incredulous. “You’re keeping me a prisoner. What about my friends? Heidi, Elliott?”
“Forget about him.”
“No. I won’t.”
“He’ll be one of us soon anyway.”
“So then you’ll let him fuck me – as soon as I’ve had this baby – so I can pop out a new baby mutant nine months later?”
“No!” His face turned red as his anger escalated. “You’re not fucking anyone else. Only me.” He sounded determined.
“Then I face a future of celibacy, because I’m sure as hell not letting you anywhere near me again.” My chest heaved with emotion, tears threatening. At least n
ow I could blame the mood swings on pregnancy hormones. “I don’t want you.”
Edward stalked toward me, stepping into my personal space. “Are you sure about that, Samantha?” He lifted my chin with a finger, forcing me to look at him.
I tried to suppress the acceleration in my breathing as we stared at one another.
He dropped my chin and smiled, then turned and left the room.
When the door closed I collapsed onto the bed.
***
Two weeks later, my new prison was nearly as bad as my old. Sure, it was much more comfortable: well furnished, big double bed, large bath. I even had books to read. But the loneliness crushed me.
My only regular visitor continued to be the nurse, who arrived and deposited my trays of food, but never said a word. Otherwise, I saw Dr Nichols – one time – to collect more blood.
I’d used some of the time to think about my situation. I’d rationalised my physical response to the thing that looked like Edward – that’s what I’d decided to call it now, so I didn’t confuse what it was – blaming the entire incident on pregnancy hormones. It was well documented that pregnant women could become extraordinarily horny in the early trimesters. I figured that was what I was experiencing.
My predicament hadn’t been helped by the sounds that filled the night, every night. It seemed the women who lived here were embracing a “free-love” lifestyle. I feared the consequences of the baby-boom that would likely follow.
In addition, my renewed solitary confinement gave me far too much time to contemplate the pregnancy. It occupied the majority of my thoughts. In my darkest moments, I’d considered the ways in which I could harm myself sufficiently that I would miscarry. That there was nothing in the room sharper than a paperback book was not coincidence, I feared. Neither were the locked windows. Suicide, by jumping to my death, had also crossed my mind.
But, in truth, I wondered if, given the opportunity, I would even be able to go through with it. I thought of Heidi, how much she wanted a child, and how she would feel if she knew I had thrown the chance of having one away. Then I wondered if she might already be pregnant too. How nice it would be to share this experience together. And it was certainly an experience. One of the books I’d been left in my room was What To Expect When You’re Expecting. I’d become obsessed with reading about everything happening inside my body as the baby changed from being the size of a bean into a plum and beyond. All the symptoms I’d been suffering were recognisably caused by being pregnant: the ligament pains, the enhanced sense of smell, a sudden dislike of caffeine. All thanks to my bean. And, on occasions, I’d found myself cupping my lower abdomen and talking to the bean as if it could hear me. No, I didn’t know if I’d be able to harm my baby now, even if I could find a way.