by Rachel Clark
* * * *
It very literally took hours to make, but it seemed that they’d finally managed to fashion a type of USB plug to link her laptop to the Kobarian technology.
Sektannen gave her a tight smile. If it didn’t work this time she wasn’t sure what to try next, but it had been rather exhilarating to tackle a problem she’d never even considered, let alone encountered, before.
The screen filled quickly, flashing with symbols and squiggles that she couldn’t even hope to understand in the brief glimpse she was given. She was a little surprised to find Sektannen and Karriak both smiling. “What’s it doing?”
“Sorry,” Karriak said quickly, “it’s flashing up error reports as it fails to find the ship’s systems To’h is supposed to monitor and control.” She must have looked confused, because he added, “That’s actually a good thing. It means To’h is definitely in there.”
She smiled worriedly, her memory flashing back to all of those horror movies where the computer was the real culprit.
“Karriak-Sektannen,” a strangely melodic voice said via the laptop’s speakers, “I am in need of your assistance. Please confirm that the ship’s network is working correctly.”
“It’s all right, To’h,” Sektannen said, leaning just a little closer to the tiny microphone hole near the camera. “We took you offline to do some diagnostics. It appears that you’ve been malfunctioning.”
“Nonsense,” the computer said dismissively. “I do not malfunction.”
“Then why did you create a rift in time to bring Amanda here?”
“Oh, so you know about that, then?” To’huto asked in an unrepentant tone.
“We also know that you changed the navigational files to make us believe we were hovering over the area where the Ardipithecus ramidus supposedly lived.”
“Yes, well, it was necessary,” the computer said. “Otherwise Amanda wouldn’t have met you for another 4.4 million years.”
“I would have met them anyway?” Amanda asked as her heart climbed into her throat. “When? What year?”
“You met Kar, Riak, Sek, and Tannen the year you turned seventy-one.”
“That’s more than forty years from now.” She shook her head sharply. “Um, forty years from when I was before I was here.”
“How do you know this, To’h?” Sektannen asked. “Karriak-Sektannen purchased your program in our own time. It would have been the equivalent of the Earth year 2027. That’s long before Amanda would turn seventy-one.”
The computer made a sound of annoyance. “Amanda, do I have your permission to explain this?”
“My permission?” she asked with a squawk. What the hell?
“Yes, Amanda Hasbro, your permission,” the computer said again in as close to an exasperated voice as her state-of-the-art-yet-primitive laptop would allow.
“Why?”
“Because you are the one who created me.”
Chapter Nine
Because you are the one who created me.
The words seemed to bounce around in Amanda’s head over and over.
“To’huto, please explain,” Sektannen demanded.
“Not until I have my creator’s permission.”
Karriak and Sektannen both turned to her. “Of course,” she said quickly, “you have my permission to tell us anything.”
“Thank you, Amanda Hasbro.” The computer seemed to take its time to prepare an explanation, and then after a soft sound that she recognized as one common to her computer’s switch-on sound, it began. “Once upon a time in a land far f—”
“To’h!” both Karriak and Sektannen shouted at the same time.
“Oh, all right,” the computer said, sounding miffed. “Don’t blame me if I was programmed with a sense of humor. That would be my creator’s fault.”
Amanda shrugged her shoulders and gave both men a wry smile. “I’ll remember not to next time. Please continue, To’h…without the fairy-tale beginning.”
“Fine,” the computer said in a voice that practically made the word sound insulting. If she did create this program she’d certainly gone heavy on the attitude. “Amanda Hasbro met Kar, Riak, Sek, and Tannen in the Earth year 2062. She was seventy-one and they were approximately, by human standards, about sixty-five. They married and lived together happily for 9.267 years before three of the brothers were killed in a devastating accident.”
* * * *
Sektannen felt his throat close over—not at the thought of his own death, but rather at the fear of being the one left behind. To have remained close enough to his brothers to all marry the same woman many, many years from now, losing them in the blink of an eye would have been devastating. And for a woman who’d loved and accepted four men into her life it must have been beyond horrific to lose three in an accident and the fourth to depression.
He could completely understand why she would try to change their history, and it was very easy to believe he would have loved her no matter what age they met. He pulled the woman into his arms. She’d given them all a second chance and he planned to grasp every moment.
* * * *
Karriak swallowed hard and tried to follow the computer’s rather disorganized explanation. They’d met and loved Amanda in a different time and place? “Why now, To’h? Why here?”
“My creator did not explain why she did it.”
He glanced at Amanda, wondering if the woman she was now would be able to interpret the actions of the woman she might never now become.
“To’h, did I say anything? Anything at all about my feelings for these men?”
“Only that you missed them and had always wished you’d met them when you were younger.”
Amanda smiled slightly. “I suppose that makes sense. If I didn’t meet you until I was in my seventies it means I probably spent a lot of time alone. I’ve always been pretty focused on my career.”
“Always?” Karriak asked as his chest tightened to the point that he could barely breathe. She nodded absently as she stared at the laptop that now housed To’huto. He wanted to ignore the feeling that they were missing something important, but he had to know. “Amanda, why did you design the vessel you arrived in?”
“So that humans could travel to other planets faster,” she said with a confused smile. When he nodded for her to continue, the smile grew brighter. “The propulsion system I designed made the craft ten times faster than anything else we have on Earth. Eventually, if my theories are correct, I should be able to create a ship that can travel to planets within the solar system a thousand times faster than the ships that first carried man to the moon.”
It was a little frightening, in quite a selfish sort of way, to see her eyes light up as she spoke about her work. It was obvious that she was still very passionate about the work she’d been doing, but what truly scared him was what she was giving up to be with them. As much as he wanted her to stay, was it even fair of them to ask?
“To’huto, do you have any historical data for Earth between the years of 2018 and 2062?”
“I seem to have quite thorough accounts, actually.” Even the computer seemed surprised by that revelation. Perhaps Amanda had expected this very scenario when they learned where and when To’huto had come from.
“Is there a record of Amanda’s career?”
“Not really,” the computer said.
Sektannen rolled his eyes. “Define ‘not really,’ To’h.”
“Not really as in the 2018 test was a complete failure. Amanda lost her funding and The President’s support when it was proven that her theories were flawed.” Karriak tilted his head at the computers emphasis on the word “proven.”
“Explain,” Sektannen growled, perhaps noticing the same thing.
“Amanda Hasbro’s theories have since been proven correct, but she was never credited with the work, so she is not even mentioned in the planet’s history.”
“Well, that’s it, then,” Amanda said with an overly bright smile. “My career was a bust. Someone e
lse took credit for my work. And I have four excellent reasons for staying here.”
She turned her face into Sektannen’s chest, obviously not as happy about the outcome as she claimed. Karriak moved to sandwich her between them, glancing at his brother. Sektannen nodded, and Karriak still knew his brother well enough to know what he was thinking.
They’d help her find a career that made her happy, and they would all love her for the rest of her life.
Chapter Ten
“Fuck,” Sektannen growled as he bumped his head on yet another doorway. “I seriously hate this part.”
Karriak nodded in agreement and carefully ducked the doorframe to avoid the same fate. “I’m actually looking forward to it this time. I feel like I haven’t made love to Amanda in years.”
In truth it had only been the last few weeks, but with both of them approaching their final telkobar they’d grown too large for intercourse to be comfortable for Amanda. For a while they’d found creative ways around the problem—and To’huto’s salve had been very handy for a time—but none of it really made up for the emotional closeness of being inside their woman.
“To’h,” Sektannen said as soon as they entered the surveillance room, “can you bring up yesterday’s video footage of Ardi and her family, please?”
Once they’d parked their ship over the right piece of Earth, finding Ardipithecus ramidus had been much easier. At the moment their research was mostly observation from a distance, but on rare instances when Ardi and her family stepped out of the shelter of the trees they’d been able to watch the interaction between them. So far the jury was still out on whether the Ardipithecus ramidus was related to Homo sapiens or not. Behaviorally speaking, Ardi could have belonged to either evolutionary line of ape or man or perhaps even one of her own. Not all species destined to be sentient survived the evolutionary process.
Unfortunately, the uncertainty meant they would need blood samples and further testing. They’d hoped to do this survey without having to bring one of them on board to do some quick medical tests, but it would seem the option was fast becoming their only choice.
“Anything new?” Amanda asked as she stepped into the survey room behind them. Apparently they weren’t the only ones scratching for work. Technically, Karriak-Sektannen should still have been the only person on the ship. With three of them pitching in it was getting done way quicker than they’d planned.
“We think Ardi might be pregnant,” Sektannen said as the female they’d named Ardi came into the camera view. “Compared to pictures taken several weeks ago, she certainly looks much thicker around the middle.”
“To’h?” Amanda asked the computer.
“On it,” To’huto said without waiting for her to actually ask her question. If there had ever been any doubt that Amanda had created the computer program, it had been wiped away every time To’huto correctly anticipated her wishes.
Several images of Ardi were placed side by side on the screen. It seemed quite obvious that the thickening around her middle indicated a pregnancy, and considering her relatively small frame, she was likely close to term.
“I hope she’s okay,” Amanda said with concern in her eyes. “I can’t imagine how frightening it would be to give birth without medical personnel and equipment all around me.”
“She should be fine,” Sektannen said reassuringly. “They seem to be a fairly healthy group, and she’s carrying enough body fat to survive for a while if they encounter some lean times.”
“That’s good,” Amanda said with a wistful smile. “It would have been nice to have children.”
She said it so quietly he almost missed it.
“Would have been?” Karriak asked, obviously having heard the same quiet words.
Amanda blushed. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m very happy, very, very happy, but with us being different species and all…”
“We’re compatible in a reproductive sense,” Sektannen said, trying to cut to the heart of the matter.
“We are?” she asked, sounding shocked. “We’ve been having unprotected sex for three months now. Don’t you think that maybe someone should have told me I could get pregnant?”
“So you don’t want to become pregnant?” Karriak asked, looking and sounding as confused as Sektannen felt.
“That’s not what I said!”
Sektannen stepped closer, trying to calm the potentially disastrous discussion down, but his woman took a step back. “Amanda,” he said quietly, praying for her to look him in the eye. He almost sagged in relief when she finally did. “Karriak and I aren’t able to impregnate you while we’re going through telkobar.”
Several emotions played over her face, but she finally asked, “You’ve been shooting blanks?”
He laughed at her choice of words. “Yes, beautiful, we’ve been shooting blanks the whole time we’ve known you. That will change, however, once we go through our final telkobar. We’ll need to discuss some sort of contraception before then, but I promise you we would have mentioned it long ago if it had been an issue.” He reached over and smiled when she let him touch her face with his fingertips. “We would never have made such a decision without you. We should decide together when to start a family.”
“I agree,” she said with a nod.
“So you do want to have our babies?”
“Of course,” she said simply. They must have both been staring at her with blank expressions because she finally looked at them both and then laughed softly. “I’m sorry. I just…well, I’d already convinced myself that life without offspring was okay, and now you’re telling me it’s possible and I suddenly want to jump up and down in celebration and run away screaming at the same time.” She took a deep breath and stepped closer to them both. Considering that they were nearly twice her height at the moment, she had a long way to look up. “I want children. I want children with you. I just want to make sure it’s planned properly…that we’re all in agreement on when is the right time.”
“Okay,” Sektannen said, lifting her up to press a kiss to her lips. Karriak moved behind her, balancing her tiny, fragile human body between their gigantic ones. “How about we start a family once we go through telkobar?”
She shook her head. “I was thinking maybe sooner,” she said with a mischievous grin. Considering that sex was pretty much out of the question at the moment and they were shooting blanks, he wasn’t sure exactly what she meant. He looked over her shoulder to see Karriak grinning.
Apparently, Sektannen was the only one missing the point.
“To’h,” Amanda said to the computer but with a wink in Sektannen’s direction, “please increase the oxygen levels in the bedroom.”
“Already done,” the computer said smugly as if it had anticipated Amanda’s request yet again. Sektannen shook his head slightly. It wasn’t really possible for a computer to be that intuitive, was it?
Although, considering that it was what the computer did without orders when she’d first come on board, and it was Amanda who’d programmed To’huto, then maybe it had been planned all along.
Amanda kissed his nose playfully. “Want to come make babies with me?” she asked with a wide grin.
He nodded, already moving toward the bedroom, his woman safely cradled in his arms.
Fuck, yeah.
* * * *
Karriak had only enough sense left to remember to strip off his clothes before they stepped into the bedroom. He’d never fit into them again, but he remembered well how irritating it had been to grow so rapidly and tear the super-tough, super-stretchy material with only his skin. Sektannen laughed when he noticed, but did exactly the same thing.
“Are you sure about this?” Karriak asked Amanda as she stood out of their way.
“I wouldn’t have suggested it otherwise.”
“But you only just found out that we’re compatible,” Sektannen added as he, too, managed to grab ahold of his sanity.
“Not being able to have babies with you was the one regret I had
in choosing to stay,” she admitted with a sheepish smile. “Now that I know we can, well, I don’t want to spend another moment waiting. Unless…” She seemed to hesitate and Karriak finally realized she was worried that they were backing out.
“It’s what we want, too,” he said, leaning over to carefully press a kiss to her forehead. She slipped her hand into his, smiling widely when Sektannen reached for her other hand.
“It’s probably best if you go in first. Make sure you stay far enough away so we don’t hurt you,” Karriak said as memories of their first telkobar slipped into his mind.
She reached up, her hand barely touching his cheek as she smiled at him. “It really hurts, doesn’t it?”
“It kind of stings,” Sektannen said with a soft laugh, “but not for long.”
“Maybe you should go find that purple number you were wearing our first night together.”
“Or maybe I can just wait for you naked.”
“I like naked,” Karriak said with a broad grin. “Go. Do that.”
She laughed happily, stepped through the bedroom door, and let it close behind her.
“You ready for this?” Sektannen asked.
Karriak raised an eyebrow. He still knew his brother well enough to know he was referring to their rushed telkobar, not making babies with a woman they all loved. “Can you ever be ready for this?”
Sektannen clapped a hand on his shoulder, took a deep breath, and opened the door to the bedroom. “See you on the other side.”
* * * *
Amanda waited nervously for Karriak and Sektannen to come into the room. It was obvious that they’d wanted to speak without her there so she’d given them space. But of course, she was nosy enough to want to know what they were saying.
“To’huto, would it be possible to make me a robe…or something?”
“Relax, Amanda, third time’s the charm.”