Shalia's Diary Omnibus

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Shalia's Diary Omnibus Page 125

by Tracy St. John


  When Oses finished me, I finally looked from the vid feed. His cocks loomed over my face. The dripping tip of the larger prompted me to part my lips to catch the spicy sweetness. I licked it as Oses rubbed himself, his excited expression and thick shaft filling my vision. I was also imagining what the recorder captured: my eagerness as I watched the Nobek readying to climax and fill my waiting mouth with his passion. The thought was as exciting as anything else we’d done.

  Oses glanced over his shoulder, toward the monitor readout. What he saw there made his breath catch. He stiffened and groaned. Hot semen jetted. I caught most and swallowed, but my cheeks and chin received a few errant sprays. Oses yelled and poured more ecstasy.

  Later when I felt up to talking again, I told him, “Make sure you thank Clan Seot for the vid recorder along with putting me in the mood.”

  Oses chuckled. “It certainly has its place in the sleeping room. I’m buying one for myself.”

  July 16

  Today was the last day we were in range of the wormholes that make possible instant communication to Kalquor and near-instant communication to Earth. I had it count as well as I could.

  First thing this morning, I spoke with Clan Aslada. It was the middle of the afternoon for them, but they took off from work to talk to me. That counts for a lot. They are important men with duties that affect people well beyond themselves. Yet they arranged their schedules to accommodate a last conversation with little old me.

  They were starting to loosen up a bit with me. No, we didn’t talk intimate compatibility as I had with Clan Seot yesterday ... thank goodness. They’re yummy enough to leave me in the same state that Oses found me in. I did not need to be left frustrated since I knew Oses was on duty. Instead, Clan Aslada and I had a friendly and non-sexual conversation. I’m not saying there wasn’t some flirting. There was, particularly from Aslada. It was the kind you get on a first date; some innuendo but nothing truly overt. It was fun and sweet.

  Things are moving slower with Aslada, Meyso, and Jaon than my previous relationships. There is nothing wrong with that. I appreciate their steadiness and reliability. I have no doubt Meyso would be perfect to help my mother when the day comes to treat her for the bipolar illness and dementia. Aslada has charm to spare, and I’m into the idea of being able to help further his career. My excitement for video production – even the kind that has squat to do with Oses porn, ha-ha – has returned. Jaon couldn’t be more perfect to keep Anrel safe and secure, particularly with Nang roaming about with who knows what kind of plan cooking in his obsessed head.

  I am looking forward to getting acquainted with them better. Much, much better.

  Later this afternoon, I spoke again with Clan Seot. Once again, we lost track of the minutes that passed. I swear that if I hadn’t arranged to contact the Dads at a certain hour, I might have been yapping to that clan until our waning communications range cut us off.

  While the situation with Clan Aslada is moving along at a slow simmer, I am close to boiling with Clan Seot. I’m not sure; maybe I’m moving too fast with Seot, Cifa, and Larten. They are so easy to talk to and joke with! Is it possible to feel the connection I do so soon? I’ll have to put the brakes on once I show up on Kalquor ... I can’t jump headlong into a full-blown relationship with my first option. I do have to weigh more of my choices. Common sense says to not limit myself even to the two clans I enjoy to the extreme. I should check out at least five clans, right? Five sounds to be a logical number.

  I was laughing my head off at Seot, Cifa, and Larten as they presented their backsides ... fully clothed, unfortunately ... to settle the argument who had the best butt. Heavens, they love to flirt and are unabashed about it. Larten was hilarious, flexing his ass muscles for all he was worth. That was when the alarm I’d set went off, warning me to head to Medical and ready for the last real-time contact with the Dads. They had to see Anrel once more before we were forced to resort to delayed messages that take days to reach each other.

  In a way, it was good I had to sign off when I did. How was I supposed to choose between butts so firm and chiseled, round and ripe, succulent and grab-able? Still, I wished we had more opportunities to speak face-to-face.

  “We’ll be out of range of the wormholes soon. I have to say goodbye to my dads. Sorry.”

  The three men wheeled around and gave me regretful but understanding smiles. “Don’t apologize,” Seot told me. “Parent clans are a priority.”

  “Especially parents who were chosen,” Cifa added. “How wonderful is it that they asked you to be their daughter and you wanted them for fathers? I cannot imagine a more precious gift.”

  It was impossible for me to rush saying farewell, but Seot – the ever-leading Dramok – made our parting caring but quick. “One final word before we’re stuck speaking by message again,” he instructed his clanmates.

  Our parting words were to the point. Larten reminded me to continue eating for strength. Cifa begged me to give Anrel lots of kisses on his behalf. Seot commanded me to take care of myself and get healthy. I thanked them for everything ... the gifts, the conversation, the laughs.

  When they disappeared from my com vid, I almost cried. I already miss them.

  Tears had to wait. I hurried to Medical. In fact, I hurried so fast that I flat-out forgot to bring my hoverchair in case I became tired. Oh well, I’ve been regaining more of my strength, so it wasn’t any big deal.

  Anrel was awake, and to judge from the chirpy noises she made, in a happy mood. I wasted not a moment in comming the Dads. They were in front of me in an instant.

  “Sorry I’m late,” I rushed to say.

  “Only by a couple of minutes, my daughter.” Bitev’s smile gentled the sharp planes of his features. “Is everything all right?”

  “Terrific. I got sidetracked with Clan Seot. Time flew by before I knew it.”

  “Oh really?” Nayun had been gazing with adoration at Anrel from the moment our feed came online, but he gave me a knowing smirk. “They are definite contenders?”

  “Both them and Clan Aslada. I chatted with my second prospective clan earlier.” My face warmed. I hoped Nayun didn’t decide to quiz me on the specifics of my latest conversation. Larten’s stories tend to be bawdy, Cifa’s innuendo couldn’t be more outrageous, and Seot is not above boasting about certain skills he possesses. The Ass Pageant we ended with is not a matter I plan to give my dads a report on. Aslada, Meyso, and Jaon are on somewhat safer ground ... for the moment.

  Fortunately, details were not asked for. Rak gave me a pleased expression. “Both clans are worthy of your consideration, from what my research into their histories tells me. I think either choice will guarantee you and Anrel a wonderful home.”

  At his mention of the baby’s name, every eye went to Anrel. The four of us exhaled a collective sigh. She kicked her miniscule feet, as if in recognition of being the rightful center of attention.

  “Tep’s reports are all excellent,” Nayun said after a few seconds of happy contemplation. “Anrel’s sleeping more than usual these past couple of days, and her eating is a tad off, but we detect nothing in her tests to be worried about.”

  “Good, because I worry plenty with her doing well.”

  “That’s a normal part of parenting. You’re looking better, by the way. In just these few coms, I see a difference in you. Whatever you’re doing, keep it up.”

  The rest of our conversation was of little note. It was nice to just sit there and make small talk with my dads. Anrel’s every move and sound were cause for comment. The Dads caught me up on their Matara’s news ... there wasn’t much. Joelle is having a far calmer trip to Kalquor than I am. I made a mental note to com her soon.

  As we crept closer to when the ship would move out of the wormhole’s range, our mood grew bleak. I didn’t want my dads sad, particularly Nayun. Forcing happiness into my tone I reminded them, “Hey, you can do this all over again with Joelle. She’s what, a month and a half, two months behind me?”


  I was glad that their mood brightened at the prospect of speaking to their love. When the feed began to fade in and out, they were all smiling.

  I received the final rounds of well-wishes and remonstrations to take care of myself. Loads of love was spoken to Anrel. Even Rak blew her noisy kisses, ignoring any ideas of seeming less of a warrior-bent Nobek. Nayun and I called out “I love you” over and over until the transmission failed.

  I sat with Anrel for another hour, rocking her to sleep so I would remember that I am not alone. I’m not; I have Oses and Candy and Katrina ... and when he pulls his act together, Betra. I have Clans Seot and Aslada to look forward to in my future. No, I’m not alone ... just lonely. For the moment. Hopefully, that will soon pass.

  July 21

  It’s been a few days since we left the wormholes. Everyone is moody as hell lately. It reminds me of the first week at work after being on vacation. Actually, it’s worse. We’re fresh into missing loved ones again and feeling seconds stretch into forever before we can meet up with new friends.

  I want my dads already, the comfort of being able to sit down and consult with them at a moment’s notice. It’s particularly bad now, because I could use some one-on-one with Nayun. Anrel’s appetite continues to fall, and she’s lost a pound. That’s a lot of weight for such a tiny baby. Tep is running a lot of in-depth tests and signaling any medic within two-days’ com range to try and figure out why she’s not eating as she should. He may have to put her on IV fluids.

  The gang is rallying around my little girl. Every chance they manage, Candy, Katrina, Oses, and Betra are in Medical to check up on Anrel and sit with me. My relationship is strained with Betra as he and I try to keep our exchanges pleasant and yet distant. I’m grateful that he’s still devoted to Anrel. That hasn’t changed for a second. It hurts my heart to catch him gazing at me with sad desire every once in a while ... but I can’t come up with a single word to say to him to make it better.

  To my surprise, Captain Wotref and his Nobek Siko are also frequent visitors. Their Imdiko Dr. Ret works in Medical, so it’s no shock to see him around. I’m not sure if the captain’s clan is smitten with Anrel or if they come because they are so intimately involved with Katrina, Anrel’s honorary grammy. Despite the pervasive low mood of the ship, I get a laugh out of how Katrina treats her beaus in the presence of the baby.

  “Say hi to Grampy Wotref! Here’s Grampy Siko too. He needs a smile from his favorite girl. Come on Anrel, give your grampies a smile.”

  Despite all that long, gray hair and deep creases at the corners of his eyes, Nobek Siko doesn’t resemble anyone’s grampy. He seems more like the mean old man who would ‘accidentally’ run over the teenage hoodlums in his neighborhood if he could get away with it. Yet that grouchy Nobek comes in at least once a day to check on his becu – the nickname he’s given Anrel. She’s almost as tiny as the Kalquorian vegetable that reminds me of a brown pea.

  I sit there biting my lips when that old warrior lumbers up to Anrel and growls, “There you are, my becu, with your fist in your mouth. I will teach you to swing that fist at others’ mouths, should they dare to insult you.” Then he carefully guides her clenched hand in a swinging motion, punching himself in the nose with her fist. “Like this. With all of your strength, becu. Knock them on their asses.”

  It’s among the most hilarious scenarios I’ve ever witnessed, but I don’t dare laugh at Siko or protest the profanity. I don’t want that beast mad at me.

  I’m glad Katrina has Clan Wotref to lean on. I think she’s having a hard time of it. She had a short stretch to reunite with her long-missing family, and now she has to wait to receive their messages. She alternates between the extremes of joy and pain. One moment she beams from ear to ear, the next she’s blinking back tears. I try to be of some comfort to her, but most of my attention is focused on Anrel. Plus Katrina isn’t talking a lot ... she hedges when I ask her what her daughter and son think of her heading to Kalquor and her growing relationship with Clan Wotref. She constantly changes the subject on me. I’m beginning to wonder what’s going on with all of that. In the end, if Katrina won’t discuss it, it’s none of my business. I’ve settled for leaving the door open if she decides she could use a friendly ear. I hope she’s all right.

  Meanwhile, Candy is regaining her old energy. She’s started up construction on our club again. This morning she gleefully reported that it might be ready within a couple of weeks. That’s helping to cheer the gang up a bit. By then, even I might be up to partying again.

  July 22

  We’ve found out why Anrel is sleeping tons and not eating. My baby is ill. I am wrecked over it.

  Tep’s in-depth tests uncovered a problem with one of her heart valves. It’s not working properly, occasionally impeding blood flow. It leaves her exhausted and weak. Because she sleeps constantly, her metabolism is slowing and she doesn’t eat a lot. Without eating as she should, her metabolism slows even more, creating a vicious circle. Her poor body isn’t absorbing nutrients it requires, weakening it further.

  Tep was quick to reassure me. “We expected problems of this nature since she was born so prematurely,” he reminded me. “Her heart and lungs have always been of concern, so we’re not entirely unprepared for this.”

  “What can be done?” I asked. I was working hard to not be hysterical. Freaking out would not help Anrel.

  “I have several medications I can try to treat the problem and keep her comfortable. We’ll also feed her through intravenous infusions. It appears to me to be a developmental issue that might correct itself, if given the opportunity.”

  “And if it doesn’t?” I refused to let him sugarcoat the bad news. I had to understand what my daughter is up against, even if there isn’t a damned thing I can do about it.

  “Surgical correction may be called for. That’s a last resort, however.” Tep grimaced. “At the very least, she needs time to grow stronger.”

  “How much danger is she in?” I asked.

  Tep wasn’t all doom and gloom, thank heavens. “We caught it early. We’re taking steps to make sure it doesn’t become any worse. You’re not losing her to this, Shalia.”

  He acted pretty certain of that, so I suppose I have to accept it. However, I can’t bring myself to leave Anrel for a second. My bathroom breaks might have set some sort of speed record. I’ve convinced Betra to bring meals to me, which I eat standing outside of Isolation and watching Anrel. I keep checking to make sure she’s still breathing, though the monitors on her vest would go crazy with alarms if she quit.

  No, there is nothing I can do for her. I can’t bear to be out of sight of her either. I’ve already informed Tep I am sleeping in her room with her tonight and heaven help anyone who says I can’t. He didn’t argue with me. In fact, he had a mat wheeled in and set up next to her incubator.

  If I sleep a wink, I will be the most amazed person in the universe.

  July 23

  It was a long night. I dozed in and out, suffering awful nightmares when I did sleep. Typical nightmares a woman has when worried about her child, I guess. I was searching everywhere for Anrel and couldn’t find her. I had a few dreams where I was back on Earth, from when I was in hiding with Mom. I kept asking her, “Where is my baby?” She stared at me as if I’d lost my mind. “What are you talking about, Shalia? I think you must have dementia.” Ha, I don’t require Sigmund Freud to figure out the symbolism there.

  In another dream, I was at the rescue site. It was under attack, and I was again hunting for Anrel. Then there must have been half a dozen dreams of me racing all over the ship searching for her. The night was not restful in the least.

  It was a relief to wake for the day. Betra was there, sitting on a seating cushion between Anrel’s incubator and my borrowed bed. He smiled as I blinked, my head pounding from fatigue and worry.

  “I’d say good morning, but hearing how you were moaning in your sleep, I doubt that’s the case,” he said.

  “Jeez, I feel
awful,” I told him, sitting up. “It’s worse than a hangover. Is she okay?”

  I leaned over him to gaze at my daughter. All the readouts were in the green, indicating she was within normal medical parameters.

  “She’s fine,” Betra said. “If you have an appetite, eat your breakfast before it gets cold. It’s outside the door.”

  His fingertips brushed my cheek. I stared into his purple eyes, barely able to breathe for hope.

  He gave me a sad smile. “I’ve been an ass. I’m sorry.”

  I shook my head. “You care. Maybe more than you should, but it’s not a matter to apologize for. I’m just sorry I’m the cause for you being upset.”

  “It’s not your fault, Shalia. I’m the idiot being jealous when I know better.” Betra shook his head at himself. “I thought I was fine, that I would be able to let go without regret once you found the perfect clan. Instead, I was overcome with the urge to find something to hit them all with.”

 

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