by Gini Koch
CHAPTER 15
“WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?” Jeff’s voice sounded strained.
I considered lying, but didn’t have the energy for it. Besides, now this affected our child, so it was probably the time to get the pertinent details. “Terry showed it to me. In the implanted memory you put in way back when.”
“Oh.” He sounded no less strained. “What . . . what did you see?”
I contemplated how to safely answer this while I desperately focused on flowers in the hopes that he wouldn’t see or feel what I was thinking. I was pretty sure Terry had shown me her last acts before she died, when Jeff and Christopher were both ten. I didn’t think, based on the complications everyone seemed to insist I’d had, that Jeff would be able to handle seeing and essentially reliving those moments.
“Oh, God. You saw her dying?” He clutched me. “Baby, I’m so sorry.”
So much for my ability to multithink just after having given birth. Oh, well, nothing for it. “Jeff, it’s okay. She showed me so I’d understand, when the time came. So I’d know how and why she’d programmed you to find me. It wasn’t a bad thing for me to see—it was like seeing someone else’s dream.” And it had helped me to save the day during Operation Fugly, so, in my opinion, it was all good.
“Is the implant still . . . in you?”
This wasn’t really the conversation I’d planned to have to welcome our new arrival, but under the circumstances, I just went for it and hoped Jeff wouldn’t freak out. “No. There was a trace of Terry’s consciousness in me for a while, but ACE removed it. That part of Terry is a part of ACE’s collective consciousness now.”
“Does Christopher know?”
“No, and neither does Richard. Paul knows, and me, and now you. And that’s all. And I think that should stay all. I really don’t think Christopher could handle it.” I wasn’t sure that Jeff could handle it, and it was only his beloved aunt, not his beloved mother.
“No, you’re right. And you were right not to tell anyone else.”
“Are you sorry I told you now?”
He hugged me. “No. In some ways, I wish you’d told me earlier, but I can understand why you didn’t.” He sounded guilty, as he always did in regard to the implanted memory.
I sighed. “Baby, you need to stop with the guilt. It’s silly, especially after all this time. You didn’t do anything wrong.” I snuggled nearer to him. “I think the benefits received have far outweighed the fainting spell when we first met.”
Jeff’s body relaxed a tiny bit. I noted that Jamie wasn’t reacting to any of this. In fact, she was asleep. We hadn’t burped her. My first hour as a mother, and I had a feeling I was already a failure. It figured. But pressing matters being what they were, I decided to merely start a list of my motherhood screw-ups to save everyone time and get back to the issues at hand. “The blocks you put into Jamie are really strong, aren’t they?”
“Yes.” He took a deep breath. “You want to know about the cube, don’t you?”
“Yes. And how the blocks do and will work for Jamie. But if it’s too upsetting for you, we could wait.” Even though I wasn’t sleepy any more. Stressful conversations with my husband tended to wake me up for some reason.
“No, it’s not upsetting. When I was born and had . . . so many problems, Aunt Terry realized someone was going to have to find a way to protect our stronger empaths, beyond isolation chambers and what we did typically, because she figured if there was one who manifested early, there could be more. When Christopher was born and turned out to be as strong an imageer as I was an empath, she realized stronger talents could be cropping up all over.”
Considering most A-C talents showed up in the teenage years and Jeff’s and Christopher’s talents had appeared at birth, Terry being the only one worried about the potential for stronger, earlier talent manifestations seemed odder than the fact that she’d figured out what to do about it. But my experience with the A-Cs had shown that most of them really didn’t like to rock the boat or question the status quo or those in authority, even if they weren’t happy with the rules they were living under. That Terry had and Jeff did regularly identified them as mavericks, not trendsetters, of the AC community.
“Makes sense. What did she do?”
“She created a program, almost like a computer program, that could be implanted into someone’s mind.”
“Sounds pretty advanced.”
“She had help, I’d guess. Not sure from whom, but she was good with science and medicine, as well as being our Head Diplomat and a strong empath.”
Female empaths were rare, so Terry being unusual in other ways wasn’t too surprising. “But you don’t know who helped her?”
“No idea. She never said, and I could be wrong. No one has ever asked me or Christopher about the cube, so maybe she did it alone.”
I thought about it. “It could have been some older A-Cs who helped her, too. They might have passed away before you were old enough for them to ask.”
“That makes sense.” He sighed. “The cube was the transference system to get the programming into us. I don’t know that I can explain how it worked. We opened the cube, looked at it, and the information downloaded.”
“What happened to the cube?”
Jeff was silent. I shifted so I could look at his face. He was looking at Jamie, not at me, but his expression was one I was used to—he was trying to lie.
Chuckie’s undoubtedly accurate belief that there were some A-Cs who could lie notwithstanding, I surely wasn’t married to one of them. “Jeff, it’s me. Look at me, and tell me the truth, because whatever you’re thinking of saying right now is an utter fabrication, and I already know it.”
He sighed again and met my gaze. “Fine. The information was programmed specifically for me and Christopher. I think it was attached to our DNA in some way. The information went in, we both passed out, when we woke up, the cube was gone.”
Interesting. “Did you look for it?”
He shot me a dirty look. “Of course we looked for it. We couldn’t find it.”
“Where were you, when this happened? The Embassy, with Richard, or with your parents?”
“My parents.”
“Ah.”
“Ah?”
I sighed. “One of your family found it, Jeff. And if they didn’t understand it, they took it to figure out what was going on with the cube. However, since we don’t have this process as an open, admitted function, I’m betting whoever found the cube knew exactly what it was for and took it, either to hide it away forever or to use it against your people.”
Jeff looked worried. “I don’t know.”
Before we could discuss this any further, there was a knock at the door and my mother put her head in. “Kitten, Jeff, can I disturb you for a minute?”
Mom sounded strange. She kind of looked strange, too. “Sure, Mom. What’s wrong?” I asked as she came in and shut the door.
She gave me the “are you crazy, is that your problem?” look. I was garnering that one a lot these days. “Jeff, you all look very cozy, but could I have some time alone with Kitty, please?”
“Sure.” Jeff got out of bed quickly. “I’ll just, uh . . .”
“Jeff, find your mom and dad and ask them about what we were talking about. Really monitor for emotions. I’m praying one of them found it, but we need to know, either way.”
He nodded, kissed Jamie on her head, kissed me full on the mouth, hugged my mom tightly, then zipped out of the room.
Mom came over and sat where Jeff had been. “How are you doing?”
“Fine. A little tired. Breastfeeding is pretty cool. Oh, and Jeff implanted blocks into the baby.”
“Good, good.” Mom stroked my hair. She also seemed really distracted.
“Mom? What’s going on?” She wasn’t looking at Jamie; she wasn’t asking what we’d named her, nothing. Something was off.
She pulled me into her arms and gave me her by-now-legendary breath-stopping bear hug. “
I thought we’d lost you forever.” I realized my mother was crying.
This knowledge instantly freaked me out. I’d been too busy earlier to have the fact that my parents and Jeff’s parents had been crying in the delivery room register as anything other than a part of the general confusion. But I hadn’t seen my mother cry much in my life. Mom was always the one taking care of problems, handling emergencies, holding other people while they cried. “Mom, what’s wrong? Is Dad okay?”
She gave a strangled laugh. “Well, yes, we’re both okay now that our only child has come back from the dead.”
“I don’t remember the dying thing.”
“You did. You flatlined. We saw it. Christopher was hysterical when he came to get us and Alfred and Lucinda. I don’t know how he managed to be calm for Jeff while he was in the room with you, but thank God he did.”
I managed to get an arm around her and hugged her back. “Mom, you’re kind of scaring me right now. I’m fine, you can relax.”
She hugged me tighter. “I am relaxing.”
“Air . . . need air . . . relax the hug . . .”
Mom let go, though she kept her arm around me. “Well, you certainly sound like there was no harm done,” she said dryly.
“There wasn’t. Tito said I didn’t even tear. Down there, I mean.”
“I know what it means. How nice for your sex life. At any rate, I just wanted to tell you that I’m so thankful you’re still with us, kitten.” She hugged me one-armed and kissed my forehead. “I love you so much and I’m so proud of you, and I really thought I’d never get to tell you that ever again.”
I decided arguing that I hadn’t died was stupid. I’d almost never seen my mother this emotional and, as sluggish memory finally served, she was only like this when the people she loved most were in a danger she couldn’t prevent or protect them from. “I’m fine now, Mom. Not leaving you and Dad for a long time. I promise.”
“Good.” She kissed my head again. “I’m going to go home.”
“Why? You haven’t even really seen the baby yet.”
Mom sighed. “Your father and I went home after you . . . gave birth. We just . . . needed to be in your room, see your things, be alone without having to try to be brave or supportive or any other emotion for anyone else. Your father’s still there—he didn’t feel that he could see you right now and not break down in front of you and potentially upset you and the baby, let alone Jeff.”
Wow. My parents were wrecks. I felt hugely guilty for no good reason, but guilty nonetheless. “I’m so sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to upset you and Dad like this.”
She gave a strangled laugh. “Kitten, there’s no woman in the world who wants to die in childbirth. It happens, even to the healthiest and those with the best medical care. I’m just thankful God gave you back to all of us.”
There was something about that, what she’d said, that I felt I really and truly ought to remember. But nothing came. “Well, me too. You want some grandma time while you’re here?”
She stroked Jamie’s head. “No, not right now. I want to get home and reassure your father that you’re really okay. I want both of us to calm down, so that when we see you again, we’re the parents you’re used to.”
“I’m all for everyone getting back to normal as soon as humanly possible.” I thought about it. “And alienly possible.”
Mom chuckled. “You certainly seem like you’re back to normal.” She hugged me again. “Love you, kitten. Try to relax and enjoy this next phase of your life.”
“Especially since I’m here to have it.”
Mom sighed. “Yes. And thank you for proving that it was a good thing I left your father at home.” Mom’s sarcasm knob was turning. She wasn’t at eleven, or even close to it yet, but it was clear that eleven would again be a likely happening. Strangely enough, this comforted me much more than her crying had. I decided to table the mental and psychological ramifications of this for another time.
“I love you, Mom.”
I got the bear hug again, then Mom got off the bed. “We’ll be back later, once you’ve had some more family alone time.”
Jeff came back in as she said this. I wasn’t sure if he’d been lurking outside the door or the timing had just worked out. He gave Mom another big hug and she left.
“Is my mom still freaked out?”
He shook his head. “No, she’s normalizing.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I’ve never felt her that upset. Not that I can blame her.”
“Enough talk of me going to the other side and coming back and all the emotions stirred up therefore. What did you find out from your parents?”
“Not much. I can’t be certain, but I don’t think either one of them found the cube.”
“Why can’t you be sure?”
He shrugged as he got back into bed. “They’re as upset about what happened, and as relieved, as your parents. There’s not an emotion in the Science Center that’s not off the charts in some way.” He looked tired all of a sudden.
“You need to keep your blocks up. I’m sorry, I didn’t think.” The last thing I wanted was Jeff having to go into isolation right now.
He kissed my head. “Relax, baby. I’m fine. I kept my blocks up. But it’s why I can’t be sure with my parents. I’ll ask again when things are calmer. But I want you staying calm.”
“I know, I broadcast my emotions.”
“You just gave birth to our daughter. I want you to relax and enjoy this time.”
On cue, Jamie woke up and made some baby noises. She wasn’t crying, but my breasts were right there, and I gave feeding her again another shot. She went for it.
“So, how are all these emotions affecting Jamie, implanted blocks or not? You said she was stronger than your sisters’ children—do we need to worry?”
“Probably. But not right now. Now’s for just being together.” Jeff was watching me breastfeed as though this was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. He was wrapped around me, kissing my head. I could feel his hearts, and they were pounding. Jamie finished up, and Jeff helped me move her to the other side. “I never thought it’d be possible, but those are even more spectacular right now than they’ve ever been before.” He sounded awed.
“It’s just a pair of breasts, when you get down to it, Jeff.”
“Your breasts have always been more than just a pair to me. Perfect breasts are a rarity, something to be treasured, held, enjoyed, and pleasured.”
“Hold that thought. For, I guess a couple of weeks. You get to burp her, they told me not to sit up.” He took the baby and did the against the shoulder thing. “She looks so tiny in your hands. I can’t believe how much she pumped my stomach up.”
Jeff gave a strangled laugh. “She’s eight and a half pounds. Thank God she came early. Any later and—” His eyes closed and he looked like he was going to break down again. Jamie burped, rather discreetly, and Jeff put her back into my arms.
“Are we supposed to sleep with her?”
“No, but we’re going to anyway.” He pulled the railing up on the side Jamie was on and then got back into bed on my other side. He wrapped around me again, and I shifted to have my head lean on his body so he could wrap both arms around me and the baby. Emily had brought in a blanket, and he pulled it over us. “You comfy, baby?”
“Yes. This feels nice. Labor was less horrible than I’d thought it would be.”
“That’s a matter of perspective.” His voice was shaky. “If you only want one, that’s okay.”
This was against everything he’d ever said. Jeff wanted lots of kids and had never made any comments to the contrary. With this and my mother’s reactions, whether or not I remembered it, clearly I’d had some real trouble during labor.
“You really don’t remember?” He sounded shocked.
“No, I don’t. Maybe the equipment was faulty.”
“Hardly. The only one who still had any belief you were really still hanging by a thread was James. Thank God. He wouldn�
��t let Tito take you off the machines.”
Thread. Hmmm. Why did that sound familiar? Couldn’t come up with it. Decided not to care. “Well, whatever. I’m fine, the baby seems fine, and once you calm down, you’ll be fine, too.”
“You’re still alive, you and Jamie are both okay, I’m better than fine.”
“You’re always better than fine.”
Jeff laughed. “I love how you think. Even right after a hard delivery, your mind is laser-focused.”
I snuggled closer and hugged the baby. She was already asleep. “It’s a gift.”
CHAPTER 16
THE BABY WOKE UP a few hours later, this time really wanting to eat. Which was good. I didn’t have breasts any more—I had torpedoes filled with milk.
Jeff was amazing. Changed her diaper, put her on one breast, took her off, helped me switch sides, put her on the other side, took her off, burped her, checked the diaper, back in the bed. He did most of this at hyperspeed, exhibiting yet another reason why A-Cs were superior mates.
“So, the blocks,” I asked as he snuggled next to me. “They work how? And will Christopher need to put some in?”
“Probably. I can’t really tell what talents she has, but with what she did in the womb, empathic’s in there for sure.”
“They work how?” I asked again. I’d never badgered Jeff for this info before, but that was because I already knew what to do to take care of him. I didn’t want to have to slam a huge needle filled with adrenaline into my tiny baby’s hearts unless I absolutely had to. Prevention seemed like a smart plan, therefore.
“I don’t know that I can explain it, but I’ll try. The ones I put in—I . . . rearranged things in her brain. Just a little. As she gets older, she’ll need some medically implanted blocks and to have regular injections of serums that all empaths use to control their talent. Imageers need less of this, but if she’s strong like the other hybrid women, I imagine she’ll need some. The implants and injections are slightly different for imageers, but the process is the same. As we get older, we learn to move the implants and blocks around in our minds on our own. The serums allow us to do this.”