Chapter Thirty
“I FEEL LIKE A total idiot,” Jay said.
Mark paused and glanced up from where he was tying the big bows that adorned Jay’s glittering boots.
“I’m sure the Doc feels a lot worse.”
“I hope it’s a long labor. I hope that little asshole…” Jay couldn’t think of anything awful enough to equal the humiliation he was about to undergo. Grimacing, he faced the mirror again.
He felt as if he were doing a Fruit of the Loom commercial, only in this version he got to be a cherry bonbon. He had been padded to help sell the idea he was one of the Tarhiji. Though why it was necessary, he couldn’t imagine. The stupid suit alone made him look like a balloon. Layer on layer of pink and rose and cherry and orange and white. Each layer falling free with the pull of a ribbon. He trailed more streamers than a New Year’s Eve party the morning after.
Meadows removed this thing from a box and headed toward him. Jay dodged, tottered and teetered on his high-heeled boots. His first impression had been correct, it was a hat—like a cross between a poke bonnet and a propeller beanie. His awkward bobble had cost him. Meadows managed to plop the thing like a roosting gooney bird onto his head and tied the bow rakishly under one ear.
That was it. Jay went on strike. He dropped into a chair, folded his arms mulishly. “I’m not wearing the hat.”
“With that hat on do you think anybody will look at your face?”
Why did Meadows always have to be so goddamn reasonable?
“Does Cillka always tart her toys up like this?”
“She has a reputation for enjoying opening a man like a Christmas present. Pull a string, another layer falls away.”
Jay smirked. “Maybe with enough practice I could train Willy to spring through my fly like a jack-in-the-box. Bet Cillka’d like that.”
Meadows flushed a dull red. Jay savored the moment. Meadows unfortunately bounced back. Reaching into a pocket, he emerged with a silver-filigreed object too big to be a ring, too small for a bracelet. The other ace twirled it lightly around one long index finger.
“Well, whip it out.”
“What?”
“Don’t brag if you can’t produce.” Mark forced it into Jay’s hand and folded the detective’s fingers around it. “Now put it on.”
“Are you telling me that I have to thread my dick through that?”
“Yes.”
“No.” Curiosity got the better of him. “And why?”
“It means you’re sterile.”
“What? They’re going to inspect?”
“They might.”
Jay turned away, groped through the layers, pulled himself free. The ring settled snugly just behind the head of his cock. “Three hundred bucks a day is not enough.”
With total ennui the guards at the door glanced at his penis and waved him through.
“What a swell job,” Jay gritted. “Like the V.D. patrol in the army. These guys must get really sick of inspecting penises—”
“Even as sterling a representative as yours?”
“Shut up. Now if they got to check out the women—”
“They do.”
Jay forced his mouth closed. “Where do they get to look?”
“The left nipple is pierced.”
“Oww.… Wait a minute, why are women coming into a harem?”
“Takisian boys don’t leave until they’re fourteen. Also,” Mark gave the shorter man an ironic glance. “Takisians aren’t as fucked up about sex as we are, man.”
Jay tried to picture Tisianne—male or female—in the midst of a lesbian orgy. Found it wasn’t that hard a stretch. Now that he was actually inside the forbidden zone, Jay found it wasn’t all that exciting. That wasn’t to say that the women weren’t exciting. Whatever else might be said about the psi lords of Takis, they sure as hell bred Miss America beauty queens. Unfortunately, an awful lot of them had shapes more reminiscent of overstuffed armchairs than bathing beauties … but those faces. Maybe it was just the result of an overactive imagination, but Jay felt as if he were being damned with every look. He was glad they thought he was a eunuch. A fertile man might be in danger of his life.
“Are they ever not pregnant?” Jay whispered.
Meadows looked at him in surprise. “Most of the time. Otherwise they’d be up to their eyebrows in baby Ilkazams.” Mark eyed him shrewdly. “You’re disappointed.”
“I guess I was expecting the shiver of beaded curtains, eunuchs slipping past with poisoned goblets, or on some secret mission—”
“Don’t we qualify?”
Meadows had him there. The tall ace paused at a door and lightly knocked. Cillka answered. Quick assuring nods were exchanged.
“Right, then.” When she smiled, she had a habit of catching her lower lip between her teeth. It gave her a vixenish, impish look. Reaching out, she tugged a ribbon. The embroidered vest released and slithered to the floor. “All in working order.”
Taking Jay by the lapels, she tugged him through the door. It didn’t take much urging. “You.” A light finger to Meadows’s chest. “Better get around to Tis.”
“Is she all right?” Alarm quickened the normally hesitant voice.
“Fine … well, as good as can be expected.” Mark stood in the hall like an orphaned puppy. “We’re monitoring. I’ll have our magician to the suite when Tis gives the word.”
Meadows wandered disconsolately away. Cillka turned that smile back on Jay, pushed the door closed with a suggestive wrist flick. Jay’s mouth went dry.
“Disrobe, dear one, while I get dressed,” she said.
“I thought the idea was to undress.”
Her head snapped around. “You’re not neutered. I would never consider it. I am Zal’hma at’ Irg of the House Ilkazam. I do not mix my blood with that of inferior beings.”
And suddenly she wasn’t so beautiful anymore. Jay’s ardor dropped like his softening penis. He dropped into a chair muttering, “’Scuse me, groundling, for a minute there I almost forgot I was scum.”
“How you doin’?”
Tis paused in her slow, careful pacing back and forth across her suite. “Not too badly.” In a dry, pedantic tone she added, “Did you know the average labor lasts sixteen hours?”
“Don’t be clinical, talk to me.”
“And what should I tell you? It hurts? Well, it hurts. I know it is going to hurt a hell of a lot more before very much longer.”
“So should we go now?” Mark was nervously wringing his hands. Tis wanted to scream at him to stop it.
“No, it has to be hard labor.” She gripped her elbows, walked again. “I would not wish to impose upon the hospitality of Jay’s lady for too long.”
“You’re really weird, man, when you get all Takisian and toplofty.” Mark moved to her, placed his hand on her shoulders. “What is it you’re really saying? Really feeling?”
Lightly she traced the bony arch of his beaky nose. “This woman is my subject. The first I’ve been permitted to see since my return. And I’m embarrassed. I come to her rolling in the straw like a birthing farm animal. Ideal take it, I’m her prince. How can I rule her without her respect?”
“What makes you think you’re going to lose it? Jeez, Doc, there’s not many men who’d do what you have to protect their child.”
“Most men don’t end up in such a ludicrous position.”
“Doc, if you were an ace, getting into weird scrapes is, like, definitely your superpower.”
“How very disheartening. Where do I go to cash it in?”
Her breath suddenly seemed to get pinned somewhere between chest and mouth as a particularly sharp contraction rippled through her belly. There was a nervous, questioning blast of confusion from Illyana. Tis wanted to scream at the infant to wait. I’m not ready yet. Do we have to do this? But the body, urged by the drugs, had begun its autonomic function. Neither of them could back out now.
Tisianne forced a rictus of a smile. “Shouldn’t be too long n
ow.”
Something touched his neck. Jay bellowed, flopped like a hooked fish in his armchair. Snorted awake. The fringes of the nightmare were receding like wind-torn clouds. Cillka was bending over him.
“It’s time.”
“Goddamn, it’s about damn time.”
Getting out of the chair revealed aches and cricks in muscles he didn’t even know he possessed. Jay groaned, stretched, shook back a sleeve to check his watch. Two A.M. or the Takisian equivalent thereof. He knew the days were slightly shorter on Takis. It was too frustrating to figure out. Maybe it meant he was living longer to have extra—
The memory of the preceding night and day finally penetrated. Memories of bone-aching boredom. Meals had been the highlights. He thought he’d eaten eight just to pass the time. Guiltily he recalled that Tisianne probably hadn’t had such an easy, boring day and two nights.
“Poor little thing. Isn’t this kind of a long time?”
“The body’s small, it’s the first, and … he’s resisting.”
She led him into the corridor. Pandasala and Tri’ava fell in behind like flanking guards. They looked tired. Cillka snatched the query from his mind. “No one is due to birth tonight. We’re having to block Tisianne’s pain from the women’s quarter lest someone alert Zabb. It means we absorb it. It’s not easy.”
“Yeah, and you get to divide it six ways. How much more pleasant for Tisianne.”
The doors to Tisianne’s suite opened when they were a foot away. Roxalana playing door guard. Only a single lamp was lit. In the shadows Jay heard a desperate panting. He remembered rabbit hunting with an uncle one autumn. He had wounded a doe and trailed the blood into the woods. The sounds emerging from beneath the bush were very reminiscent of this.
The other three sisters abandoned him. Roxalana softly closed the door. Jay found his knees were shaking as he approached the bed. Mark had his arm around Tisianne’s shoulders as if he’d just assisted the girl onto the edge of the bed.
Jay wanted to say something, but the words seemed to be jammed up somewhere in the back of his throat. Tisianne looked awful. Her face had gotten very puffy in the final weeks of the pregnancy, and with its current ashen color it looked like three-day-old dough. The pale eyes were bone dry, but rimmed by red, and the gilt hair had lost its glitter. It hung like dirty cobwebs around her shoulders. Jay did some mental arithmetic and figured that the alien had been in labor around thirty-seven hours. Small wonder she looked like shit.
Roxalana plucked a package from a table. It had been wrapped in a glistening rainbow paper and tied with gold and silver ribbons.
“She’ll need clothes. There are also several changes of diapers, and a breast pump and self-heating bottles.” Jay swallowed hard. His part in this was suddenly starting to look a lot more complicated.
Mark accepted the bundle and shifted Tisianne’s medical bag to his other hand. “Send me first,” he instructed Jay. “I can make sure things are ready for the Doc. Give me, say, five.”
“Got it. Sure hope Hastet is still waiting. She expected us last night.”
Tisianne’s unresponsiveness was starting to scare the detective. She just kept staring off into space, her arms clutching her belly.
“If this Tarhiji doesn’t know her duty, she at least knows what’s good for her,” was Roxalana’s cold reply.
Again Jay was seized with a dislike so intense it was almost physical. Then Tisianne let out this horrible grunting sound. In a lot of ways a scream would have been easier. Anxious to do anything, Jay popped Meadows.
“My,” was Roxalana’s terribly well-bred reaction. “What a very useful skill. I have longed for it at particularly dull parties.”
“Unfortunately I can’t do it to myself,” Jay said as he watched the sweep hand on his wristwatch.
“What is the range?”
“I don’t know.” And then Jay remembered the hideous parasite Ti Malice, and that place, and wondered how far away nightmares lived. Decided he really didn’t want to know—he was afraid it was no farther than the floor beneath his bed. Just thinking about the place was giving him the cold sweats. Time. Jay teleported Tisianne.
Once she was safely away, he asked, “This is taking a lot longer than I expected. Are we likely to have any little surprise visits from Zabb?”
Roxalana shook her head. “I expect this House to be under attack within the month. That should hold his attention more than tormenting Tis.”
“Why didn’t we involve Taj?”
“Because he would not support our actions. He believes the child should die.”
“So why are you involved? You ladies have always struck me more as the Furies than the Graces.”
The smile was as calculating as the light from your average computer. “Because however flawed and inferior this child might be, she still carries my brother’s blood, and mated to a properly bred Ilkazam, she could produce a valid claimant to the Raiyis’tet. And knowing she lives will make Zabb sleep less easy at night, and may … may keep us alive. I am a mother too, Mr. Ackroyd. I wish to see my children thrive. And now we must see you safely through the doors of the quarter.”
Back in Cillka’s room Jay donned the five layers he’d removed through that interminable night and day. As he stood, swinging his ridiculous hat by its ribbons, the woman suddenly reached up and mussed his hair, pulling a lock down onto his forehead. Her smile was pure mischief.
“If you had really spent this many hours in my bed, you would not look so tidy.”
“If I’d spent thirty hours banging you, I’d need a wheelchair, and you wouldn’t be awake.”
She arranged his hat and tied it in place. “You humans are the most awful braggarts—”
Whatever other insults she was going to offer got lost as she got that poleaxed expression that Jay had learned meant a heavy-duty telepathic message coming in. Whatever she heard it was bad. She pressed her hands against her mouth, yanked them down, and blurted, “My husband!”
“Oh, great!” Jay groused. “My nuts just became sweetbreads.”
“He doesn’t care about toys. The problem is he’ll recognize you.”
“And realize that I’m not a toy!” That aspect of the situation hadn’t struck her. When it did, her reaction was all that he could hope for. Cillka panicked and went screeching about the room like a frenzied hen.
“Look, I majored in ‘hide’ in detective school. You got a closet? Under the bed?”
“He’ll scan. Read your mental signature.”
“Too bad I was sick the day we did ‘invisible to telepaths.’ Okay, get out in the hall, distract him. I’ll—”
“He’s got guards. They’ll have surrounded the suite.” Cillka began to cry.
“What, is a conjugal visit to a Takisian wife like sleeping with a black widow? Hubby’s got to come armed for the fucking?”
“Help!” Cillka suddenly screamed. It didn’t do a thing for Jay’s already raw nerves.
“I’m trying!” Jay shouted back, then he realized that she’d simply voiced a telepathic all-points bulletin.
Roxalana, Melant, and Pandasala answered the call. Several connecting doors opened, and the three women came flying through, shedding clothes like trees losing leaves in an autumn storm. As Roxalana hauled Jay toward the bed, the other two applied themselves to physics of undressing while in motion. By the time they all tumbled onto the bed, the detective was down to a shoe, one sleeve from his breakaway outfit, and his hat.
He heard Cillka coo out a name, then the rest of the conversation went into the private mode, and he had no idea what was happening. Couldn’t see what was happening either, because his face was pressed firmly between a pair of milk-heavy breasts. Jay wondered if he ought to have a Freudian childhood flashback now? Instead he decided to avail himself of what providence had offered. He dropped soft little kisses onto the soft skin, felt one nipple crinkle beneath the application of a tongue tip.
A few moments later, and the bed o’ babes crawle
d off him. It was Pandasala he’d been kissing. He grinned at her. She slapped him. Stormed out. Jay shrugged. Roxalana held out his pants to him. Raised her eyebrows.
Chapter Thirty-one
THERE WAS A CRANE dismantling Jetboy’s tomb. The Great and Powerful Turtle and the Harlem Hammer were taking exception to this activity and were hammering on the crane—one from the top, one at the bottom. The racket was terrible. Jay approved of the sentiment, but then the crane collapsed, and it was heading right for him!
Ackroyd woke with a snort and a cough. Sat up on the couch. Pale light was creeping in the window. Haupi was seated on the sill preening her wings. The racket was still continuing from the direction of the kitchen. It ceased, and Hastet came hurrying through. She checked when she saw that Jay was awake.
“Ice chips,” she said, and tipped the glass so Jay could see. “The poor little thing is so thirsty, and she can’t keep anything down.”
“Still no baby?” Jay asked. He was surprised the words could force their way past the fuzz on his tongue. She shook her head. Jay checked his watch. Seven A.M. “Don’t you love it when a plan turns to shit in your hands?”
Hastet continued for the bedroom. The concern was a big change from the cold courtesy with which she’d treated Tisianne for the first few hours. It had all been your highness this, and your highness that. But somewhere in this endless night, distrust and resentment had turned to sympathy. Maybe it was something all women shared. That this suffering was unique to women drew them together. Except Tisianne wasn’t a woman—not really.
Jay didn’t want to go back into that bedroom. It was all too earthy, too primitive. Why wasn’t there some high-tech way to have babies? A culture as advanced as the Takisians ought to have artificial wombs. Unfortunately Tisianne got knocked up on Earth.…
He was stalling. Maybe it was because he just couldn’t stop thinking of Tisianne as Tachyon, and there was something so creepy about a man giving birth. Maybe he just couldn’t stand to see any creature in so much pain. Sucking in a quick breath, he pushed open the door and entered.
Wild Cards X: Double Solitaire Page 27