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Greatodinsraven agreed to beta this story four edits ago; her assistance gave it a great headstart.  SparkApCider made an awesome banner for this story under the title Love on a Distant Planet.    I tried to submit this for SciFiBigBang, didn’t work.   Anyway writers who submit a draft are partnered with an artist the artwork above is from skylarOgrace.  Thank you, Ladies.





Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


Chapter 1

 

Atlanta Research Institute for Interspecies Health...

 

"Morning." Stacy, Dr. Richardson's graduate assistant threw at the security guard seated behind the desk of the welcome center.

 

"Morning, Stacy.  You're here early."  He returned her greeting as he watched her swiped her ID badge over the large display embedded in a section of the counter.  "Several hours early." He added.

 

"Doctor Richardson left a ton of work.  Hoping to complete everything before the break next week."

 

"Five day weekend sounds good.  Traveling?" 

 

"As far from here as possible."  Stacy replied, as she swiped her badge across the sensor at the entrance to the annex housing the newly established Institute for Interspecies Reproductive Practices.

 

Settling in at her desk Stacy, logged on to her computer.   From a stack in the middle of her desk she plugged in a data stick.  Opening a folder on the machines' desktop, she clicked the Copy/Continue button and waited for the Data Transfer/Complete button to pop-up on the screen.    She clicked on the button and then the Confirmed button that popped up seconds later signaling that the file had been uploaded,  and a copy created at the Institutes' IT Center.  A click on the eject icon allowed her to move to the next. 

 

Hours later, needing a break before inputting Dr. Richardson's personal notes, Stacy headed to the break room with a stack of the doctor's written notes.   Dr. Richardson's cramped scrawl often required a read through before input to save time.  She often grumbled to herself how old fashion the talented scientist was.  No voice dictation for him, everything began in his 1000 miniature sized letters crammed on a line scrawl.  As she made her sandwich and tea Stacy opened the first folder.  This file was number 140.  So many women willing to place their futures into the hands of strangers still puzzled her. 

 

Break finished hands clean Stacy sat back at her desk.  Opening the corresponding file in the database she clicked on the voice recognition icon and began to turn the doctor's scrawl into history.

 

Clinical trial 10-4012 - Steven Richardson, MD, MPH

 

CDC - Atlanta, GA-Earth 

 

Group four contains 25 subjects.  All 25 arrived Tuesday, 26th-10-4012 and have    completed initial processing.  This cohort consists of:  45-65age range, all racial groups            represented with required 1/3 categorized as mixed heritage.  Preliminary data indicates out of 25 have health risks and those four have signed waivers.  The next phase of psychological and emotional stability testing should prove interesting.   

 

End Report-Personal Comment.  I have requested additional time to refine the safe guards for several of the DNA sequencing procedures.   What we've accomplished is           remarkable but I have doubts which have gone unheeded in the midst of our government and scientific communities' lust for advancement of their agendas, and the Liegelian's need to survive.  We should be wary that the human genetic pool is not only being shared with aliens that may one day have the biological means to mutate the human genome but also cause irreparable change to who we are as humans with that mutation.                  Transcribed...25 October 4012 sgd

 

Stacy clicked the Saved button wondering if the doctor's fears would make anyone else nervous.

 

Chapter 2

 

Getting out of the car and walking through the ornate gates of the community cemetery.   I stare upward, thinking it's comforting that the sky is always a brilliant calming blue whenever I visit.  It's as if Q has made arrangements with the head honcho. 

 

Even though I visit often it still takes a minute to find his gravesite.  Standing near the headstone I wait for my system to quiet after the half-mile hike.  "Q, I have something important to tell you, it's why I'm visiting earlier than usual."  I brush away a layer of translucent cobwebs and specks of dirt from the words carved into the top I WON'T FORGET.

 

Quietly I tell him, "I'm going to have a child."

 

I lower myself the ground, my back against the cold marble.  Looking out at the afternoon sky wondering what kind of sky I'll be staring at a year from today or if I'll be alive to stare at any kind of sky.  I listen to the sounds surrounding me, memorizing everything so I can pull the memories when I need them.  It's painfully-peaceful sharing this time with Q in the beauty that surrounds his resting place.  Row upon rows of neatly kept graves covered with grass tinted deep green, a sky filled with huge white clouds and the occasional bird call or car alarm.   

 

"The planet is called Golden 5.   The newswires say their governing body joined the Counsel years ago, causing uproar because a majority of the planet's inhabitants are separatist or at least they were until now."

 

I turned the side of my face against the stone whispering to him, like we use to.  Early in our marriage, we'd lie in bed together and he'd place his lips against my ear and I listen as he'd talk for hours about how brilliant his students had been and what he wanted to accomplished at the university.  What we'd do once he retired.  Now it's my turn to whisper and his to listen. 

 

"It seems some type of pandemic has crippled the Liegelian's, that's the human name for the planet's inhabitants.   Something has damaged their ability to reproduce causing them to seek assistance.  Scientists belonging to various Counsel Worlds came up with some fantastic solutions.  One of those is the trial study I've enrolled in.  Groups of human women will be fertilized with gestation and birth on the planet itself.  Even stranger Q according to the person who enrolled me in the study, a greater number of women over age 50 have been able to progress past the fertilization stage and carry a fetus to term, no matter what their previous reproductive history has been." I wipe at the tears forming.   

 

"Most of your family and my friends think I'm deficient in functioning brain cells for even considering the idea and they might be right, but the possibility of having a child the one we were supposed to, makes this chance worth taking.  I'm tired of being here alone, without you, facing old age and death by myself.   Doing this will never make sense to everyone else but what they think is no longer important to me."  Standing up I dust a few bits of grass from my pants and place both hands on his marker. 

 

Q, I need...I need you to keep a watchful eye on me.  Guide me; let me know when I'm going too far off the deep end.  Be that little voice in my ear."  Taking a small hammer and chisel from my purse I chip off a sliver of stone and place it in the locket around my neck.

 

Chapter 3

 

Wireless electrodes are attached to my wrists and temples, and the back of my skull, reminding me that a faceless entity is sitting in a room somewhere monitoring my reactions, judging my responses.

 

Psychological Form 4-10a...Test Subject: Dalton, Terreece.  ID#1117722...Using 2000 words or less, describe your mental and emotional well being at this phase of the trial.

 

 I read the instructions again with a growing sense of reluctance.  Delving deep into my psi isn't my plan for the day, nor is putting my truths in a permanent form for eternity.  Perhaps, my reluctance to blab about myself has bled through from my other psych evals, because the other ladies exiting the room had commented that their tests had been a variety of multiple choice, true/false, fill in the blank two to three page questionnaires, while the questionnaire on the table in front of me is the Blue book of psych forms.  This bothers me because even though I love writing, lately it has led to my rehashing whatever issues happens to be hiding in the miasma that serves as my screwy reasoning.  So I procrastinate...

 

 "Where do I start?" I mumble out loud.  "What do you want me to say?"  I know talking to oneself is an indicator or mental illness, but I like me and somewhat trust my judgment, so why not talk to me my best friend.  "I could do this better if I wasn't sitting in this cold-assed room in an exam gown that can't provide warmth to keep a gnat alive."

 

A mechanical voice fills the room.  "If you require assistance, please push the button on your wristband."

 

The room is feeling colder and I'm tired of sitting in isolation so I take a deep breath and say my mantra.  "I signed up for this. Not the sitting nearly naked in an uncomfortable room part, but the doing what it takes to participate in the trial study part." 

 

The same monotone sexless voice fills the room.  "Voice recording is unavailable at this time.  Please record your expressions via the data pad."

 

"All.  Right.  I get the point."  I mouth an indelicate profanity, pick up the stylus and write. 

 

•(1)                I believe Mother Nature has a  warped sense of humor

 

I can't stop the words flowing from my mind and onto the pad.  Can't halt or change the truths revealed, truths I'm not quite ready to face, but I'm a grown up, so I'll deal.

 

(2)        The icon Bette Davis is noted to have said, "Old age ain't no place for sissies," she is so right. 

 

(3)        Getting old is hell on a woman...I don't care how well preserved she is.  The knees creak and pop and refuse to either go up or down stairs and don't try to kneel on them for more than a few seconds and expect them to cooperate. The breasts sag and exams that either flattens them like pancakes or eradiate them becomes more urgent with each click of the hormonal time clock. The hips spread, the youthful jiggle becomes a ripple that never ceases and pushing sagging flesh into a decent pair of pants is near impossible. The feet hurt, the arch flattens and the spikes and heels of your youth become instruments of torture to flesh battered by years of living.    The back bows, deformed by life and time.           The hair grays or falls out, becoming delicate due to medicines, or hormonal changes or years of satisfying societal standards of beauty. It's a fact of life growing old is hell on a woman.  I know men grow old.  I don't live in a bubble of self-denial.  It's not the same for

 

them.  The neck wrinkles, the chin sags and sometimes there is more hair on your face and neck than on your head.              Time never stands still.  It demands our attention.  Fingers curl and thicken and ache from years of hot water, bleach, steam and pushing buttons and curling hair and pealing vegetables and gutting fish and digging potatoes and signing agreements and gripping steering wheels.   Veins become distended, skin thins, and nails become rock hard or peel or pop off with a tap. Teeth loosen, enamel crumbles and gums recede.  The stomach rumbles too often, and the bowel grows sluggish. Growing old is hell on a woman, no matter how well preserved she may be. The blood thins and a hundred degrees is not warm enough.   Food smells enticing but the effort to eat becomes a chore. Extremities tremble from the smallest amount of exertion.   The eyes dim, and the world they see becomes darker with each passing year.   The ears hear at a different pace.   Each breath is precious.  Each time you open your eyes is a blessing.  Each time you tell your legs to stand, your feet to move, your mind to form a coherent statement and they do, a miracle occurs.  Growing old is hell on a woman, no matter how well put together she is.      But even as I grouse about the process.  Even as I rail against the idea of aging, even as I try to erase the evidence of another passing year, I understand growing old is not a privilege given to anything or anyone.  So I'll try to appreciate the promise of each new day and the certainty of another gray hair and the assurance that another body part will sag or creak or eventually fall off.  And the hope that dreams come true.

 

Last word written, I tap the submit button and cringe at the same time.  The cringe is for how much of myself I've revealed.  This issues some of the many.  Written in heavy block letters against a grayish screen; permanent.  The pain I've been trying to ignore; the fear of growing old and dying alone, put into a form others can see, judge, analyze.   Before I can continue my introspection or hit the delete button a healthcare worker is in the room wearing their standard ever-ready smile that grates on my nerves.  She whisks the pad from my hands, exits the room leaving me with watering eyes, snotty nose, aching breasts, numbing butt, and every atom of my being demanding to be somewhere else, somewhere warm.  

 

Thirty minutes later I'm still in the room, but happily wearing my own clothing, with the room's temperature a more comfortable just below freezing.  My stomach tenses as a researcher enters the room and plants a lanky body in a seat across the table from me.  He looks too comfortable in a long sleeve shirt and white lab coat sporting a large violent red name badge with black letters, spelling out D. Patterson, MD, PhD, and the most ass ugly tie I've seen in ages.  The only indication that he feels the coolness is the slight redness of his rather long and narrow nose.  He must be slightly presence because he looks up from the pad resting on his lap just as I'm wishing him a very long and painful freezing of his, in my mind's eye, pea size testicles.  It's totally unfair of me to wish him discomfort, but he's in this room, in control of my comfort and hopes for the next few whatever so he deserves my ire.

 

After several moments of staring at each other, his stubby fingers tap at the pad.  A rectangle forms on the tale between us, it brightens then becomes opaque and pages of information begin to flash across the section.  I recognize my name.  I can hear the stylus move against the researcher's data pad and the movement stops. I can see my scribbling highlighted by yellow, red and gray blocks.

 

"Is this a valid concern?  Is this how you see yourself?"

 

I look away from the table to watch him watching me.  He's serious and so I have to be also. 

 

"At times?"

 

"Your answer seems facetious. Did you answer as thoughtfully as you could?"

 

"Sorta."

 

"Explain."

 

His briskness is beginning to push my buttons, but I'm striving to be calm, so I count to ten before answering.  "Humor has always been my way of handling tough issues."

 

"You think your answer was humorous?"

 

"To me, kinda, but."

 

"But?"  He taps several buttons and the data-pad resting on his leg.

 

"Some truths crept in."

 

"Truths?"

 

I looked down at the floor, at the wall behind his chair, gathering my thinning patience.  Anywhere but at him.   I want to tell him about his self but after several moments I realize that my anger with him is misplaced.  What he's asking about, is my issue and fate is forcing me to deal with it.  I decided to give him a simple answer to a complex question.  "I dread dying without leaving something of me behind."

 

"Explain?"

 

"Timing and opportunity."

 

"Meaning?"

 

"I've always considered my life as a series of scenes, not fluid, but choppy, roughly edited, nothing planned.  Things just happen to me.  I was born into a warm, kind but strange group of human beings.  I met my husband at university because I stepped on his foot.  We married and were supposed to live happily ever after but he became ill and died two years short of our twenty-eighth anniversary.  We tried to have children but couldn't.   We tried adoption but his parent decided he wanted to raise him.   I'm an only child with few close relatives.   So, I decided this study could provide the opportunity to have what Q and I wanted.  That's what I mean.   But you know all this."

 

With an intensity I find fascinating, the researcher scribbles with a different stylus, this one shaped like a dead finger.   I'm still staring at the very realistic instrument when he dismisses me.

 

Chapter 4

 

No one says, Congratulations, you've successfully survived the thousand mental and physical exams given you, and now we're going to use your bodies to make half human-half alien children.  Instead what we get is a folder full of forms; a series of vaccinations that causes rashes and days of nausea, and more hours of being poked, probed, and swiped in places a select few have seen or touched. 

 

"Cycle 3: Message three for Dalton, T.  ID# 1117722.  You are required to assemble in the Commons at 5 am.  There you will receive further instructions." 

 

Feet dangling over the side of the bunk, rubbing night junk out of my eyes, I realize that it's exactly nine months and one day after my visit with Q and my entrance into the Research Institute and if the rumors are true, today I'll leave Earth, my home for maybe the last time.    Dressed and somewhat functioning I join several of the ladies for a hurried breakfast which I'm too anxious to enjoy.  In the corridor leading to the Commons I and about fifteen others are pushed into a semi-formal arrangement for a photo before being allowed to enter the large circular room.  Free from the crowd I plant myself in an empty seat as close to the nearest exit as possible.  The whispers around me say we're about to be introduced to the world.

 

The weight of the video pad in my hand reminds me that I should finish my info dump on Golden 5.  From what I've read our arrival is not the hot news our departure from Earth seems to be.  The various new sites and blobs hint that portions of Golden's population have expressed displeasure at off world assistance, but that the possibility of extinction has forced a grudging concession.    I bookmark the current site as a new group of stranger's troop into the room.   Consisting of men and women wearing military drab and others in light bright lab coats.  They gather at the front of the room in neat rows.   I groan in frustration because I can see this "brief" update going on ad nauseam.    An imposing figure with a chest full of shiny buttons and colored ribbons steps away from the group to the microphone.  His fingers tap the head of the microphone until the roar of the numerous conversations became quiet whispers. 

 

"Ladies and gentlemen, I am Vice General R. Truman, and I, am here today to thank each of you on behalf of the members of the Planetary Council."   Many of us shrug in pain as his voice booms causing an annoying burst of noise from the podium's microphone.  He looks at the microphone as if it has attempted to sabotage him.  He tries again as everything settles.  I'm thinking the Vice General doesn't need a mic at any volume.    "This is a momentous occasion where great scientific and cultural strides are being made.  You, the women of Earth are the heroes in this endeavor.  You have helped to guarantee the perpetuation of Earth and Golden 5's futures."  He stops expecting the light sprinkling of applause he receives.  I can't stop myself from thinking that if I had a few cans of pineapple juice and brown sugar that he'd make an excellent Christmas ham.

 

I'm so deep into my daydream that I miss a portion of his introduction... "Dr. Joeanna Pembleton will explain the logistics of the remainder of your time here and what we expect to happen once you leave earth and arrive on Golden 5.   Before I leave the podium, I want to reiterate that you have the thanks and the blessing of a grateful Earth.  Dr. Pembleton."

 

The sounds of bodies shifting in the uncomfortable plastic chairs, feet shuffling and video equipment being reloaded echoes in the silence as Dr. Pembleton moves to the front.  She is a willowy thin woman, with delicate hands and heavily lidded eyes.  With a nod to the Vice General she begins.

 

"As the Vice General Truman stated I am Dr. Pembleton, here to provide a brief snapshot of the research conducted and what we hope will happen once the starship Excellence reaches Golden 5.     Twenty-three years ago diplomatic overtures were initiated with the inhabitants of Golden 5 located in the Oro* galaxy.   For an unknown period of time the planet's inhabitants have been experiencing an alarming decrease in the ability to reproduce viable offspring.   Three years ago the Council was contacted by the planet's leaders for assistance.  Scientist throughout the Council believes the problem stems from chromosomal destruction caused by transfer of unknown genetic material by sources unknown.   The scientific minds from partner worlds have been seeking solutions to reverse the effect but until this is accomplished and the source of the contamination eradicated, several temporary-permanent solutions has been found.  This research study is one of them. "

 

A man holding a recorder stood motioning at the speaker.  The doctor paused and looked to her right at the Vice General, who stepped forward.

 

"As stated in the waivers each of you signed all questions were to be submitted before this meeting and answered in the information disseminated upon your arrival."

 

With a look at the contingent of armed military stationed around the room, the recorder disappeared into the man's jacket and he lowered his long frame back into the chair.

 

Dr. Pendleton continued her eyes locked on the back of the room.   "Through joint efforts research has proven that a viable human/Liegelian hybrid can be obtained, with the hybrid being able to mate with either another human or Liegelian.  Thereby allowing the Liegelian's to reestablish the ability to reproduce without outside help within two generations.  Testing indicates that the implantation process works best with women aged 50 years and older, this age group having the highest rate of successful implantation results.   Data also indicates that an off-world reproduction process is the feasible approach.   Researchers have concluded that a non-Earth environment facilitates neonate stability, and full-term growth.  Those few hybrids born on Earth during the initial trials experienced extensive birth defects while those born on Golden 5 not only survived but also experienced accelerated development. Therefore the 200 human women selected to participate at this phase will be leaving Earth in less than 48 hours.  

 

A collective sigh could be heard from many of us.  "Finally, thank  God," and several other declarations were shouted.  I don't think it was from me but it could have been.  Over our interruption the good doctor continued to talk. 

 

"The following scientific protocols have been authorized.  Those women that remain healthy after leaving Earth will be implanted by a Liegelian donor; gestation will be closely monitored during the journey to Golden 5.  Pregnancy terms average at this time eighteen to twenty-four months.  Once labor begins the trial subjects will be transported planet side.  Immediately after delivery the hybrid and mother will be immersed in waters from one of Golden 5's naturally occurring seas to initialize and strengthen the mother and child's immunity."

 

Murmurs of surprise ripple through the visitors among.  Understandable, I guess, many in the audience are hearing for the first time the biological facts we've had time to digest.

 

"After delivery, during a yet to be determined time the hybrids will live in their human parent on Golden 5, until the hybrid is considered mature enough by Liegelian standards for the hybrid/mother de-bonding.  At that time the child will join their Liegelian parent's house.  If the human mother decides to stay on Golden 5 permanently she may petition for dual citizenship.   The Liegelian leadership has guaranteed that any human woman choosing to stay will be granted full approval."   Dr. Pembleton, stopped talking and look at group behind her, finding what she needed she turned back to us.   "Ambassador Taylor will give a brief overview of what you can expect once you reach Golden 5."

 

Dr. Pembleton is quickly replaced at the podium by the Ambassador.   My attention is half in the room and half with Q, telling him that I've made it this far and for him to whisper a couple of words in the Father's ear on my behalf.  

 

"...Ladies, you and your children will have unprecedented standing in Liegelian society"

 

I focus on the Ambassador and my spidey sense says that the information he's regurgitating is for public consumption only.  To semi-satisfy the media and foster our government's need for apparent transparency. 

 

"You will be given..."

 

My sense of self preservation says no one really knows but the strangers we have given our lives over too, what our situation will be on Golden 5.    I try to concentrate but I'm distracted, because in a few hours I'm leaving Earth for a place that's a speck on the celestial map. 

 

Chapter 5

 

Starship Excellence - Day 1...

 

I stare down the line of women recognizing faces as we slowly shuffle forward.    Each face wears a different emotion some excitement, some bored, and others look like I feel-tired-anxious.   Tired of standing in line, tired of clutching the one case we've been allowed to carry on aboard.  I need a distraction so I tap a button on my wristband turning on the portable entertainment center in my carry-on.   Music pours into my brain and I sigh in satisfaction.  I can handle just about anything as long as Anthony Hamilton is crooning in my ear.  I feel better.   But additional hours of the line's sloth-like motion, a multitude of "Thank you, and yes, ma'am," from youthful faces that are starting to blur and my feet hurting, the urge to be petulant is overriding my need to be a good citizen.  I nod at faces instead of talking hoping this will keep the words, I'm going to have to apologize for, inside.  I'm elated when I'm finally at a table labeled:

 

Registration

 

Last Names    A - E

 

At the table in relatively quick order I'm given a room assignment and my very own personal chaperon.  The Lord loves me, he really does or he's just tired of me calling on his name.

 

"Mrs. Dalton, this is the ship's airman Iroc, he will be your guide and troubleshooter for the duration of your voyage.  If you need anything, contact him using this pager."  I take the sliver of plastic and fit it into an empty slot on my wristband, promising myself that I would make a serious effort to forget it is there.   We stare at each other, the youngster standing at attention at the end of the table and me, the woman who probably reminds his of his grandmother.

 

"Mrs. Dalton, please follow me I'll show you to your quarters."

 

I sigh at the idea that I remind maybe 60% of the crew of their grandmothers.  I don't try to keep up with the airman's brisk steps and he finally gets the idea.  Side by side we discuss the basics of navigating around the ship as well as who's able to answer my questions and who is not.  At a door labeled 404C he stops, pulls an IDplate from the folder in his hand and slides it into a holder and hands it to me.  "Your room.  As soon as you can, please join me here and I'll escort you to the briefing area." 

 

Inside I drop my carrier and jacket on the closes table.  Kicking off my shoes I reach behind me to unhook my bra.  I had planned to stay in my room and vegetate but knowing that the airman is standing outside my door changes my plan.   I throw water and soap at the important places, change into more comfortable clothing and follow the airman to a room filled with plants and plastic furniture.  I look for a seat where I can watch everyone else but airman "I Live to Follow Commands" guides me literally, with a hand at my back to a seat near a group of stiffly dressed men and women looking seriously constipated and dutifully anxious to be responsible for a ship full of about to be pregnant females, and the aliens about to impregnate those said females.   Iroc waits patiently until I'm seated before leaving for his place with others along the walls.    My stomach grumbles and I'm thinking that the Dining area should be open and I can have a large plate of finger cut fries and a garden salad covered in creamy Italian dressing with a loaf of bread covered with garlic butter.  I look over to summon my personal index for directions to the Dining hall when I notice that the noise level has lessened and the lower ranking personnel are standing at attention.  Someone passes behind me, pulls out the empty chair to my right and sits.  It fascinating to watch the line of airman's posture transform from board-stiff to board-relaxed and I wonder why the shift.

 

 "Good evening," says the body to my right.

 

The voice has a richness that's packaged with eyes with iris colored deep chocolate, salt and pepper hair worn in pony tail, and a well toned physique incased in a starched uniform.

 

 "Good evening."  I parrot back.  He's an officer, probably a high ranking one by the way the airman acted.

 

I look over at him like he's grown another head, I can't help it I'm puzzled.  Why would an official of the Excellence chose a chair next to me?  Close next to me.  Close enough that I can smell his cologne.  See the slight stubble on his chin.  I'm itching to ask, but Q always said I could be too blunt.  So I hesitate.  But I think being blunt has helped me to keep people and situations in their proper order and since I've been that way for fifty some years change won't be immediate.  "Why are you sitting here instead of with your personnel on the wall?" Subtle aren't I.

 

I expect him to bristle, instead he moves the chair closer until our legs are touching, making me aware that I'm letting a stranger into my miles wide bubble of required personal space.   

 

"We don't know each other, but I have seen you before."   More official looking people enter the room and he stage whispers, "You have been a part of my memories for years."

 

Oh joy, I think.  Even men on spaceships have awful pick up lines.

 

Chapter 6

 

"Welcome ladies I'm Doctor James Stevenson, my specialty Reproductive Medicine and one of the team of reproductive specialist you will become familiar with while here on the Excellence.   My task today is to introduce several of those persons to you.   Seated in the audience is the captain of the Excellence, Haruto Nakashima." 

 

Out of my side vision I watch at my new, bestest friend waves his hand in a fair imitation of a beauty queen.  I do a lousy job of hiding my grimace. 

 

"The distinguished gentleman to my left is Dr. Hernandez, ship's physician, and trial study consultant who will help me explain our expectations for you during your time aboard the Excellence."  The ship's physician nods taking time to make eye contact with as many of us as possible.    "Before leaving Earth it was explained that the final two stages of the trial will take place aboard the Excellence and on Golden 5.  Here on the Excellence myself...," he points a finger at his chest.  "Dr. Hernandez and several Liegelian physicians will oversee the various stages.  The First Pryian..." Dr. Stevenson paused and looked to his left.  I imagine the sound of 400 eyeballs moving in the same direction, watching as a Liegelian scientist enters the room.

 

The women around me grow silent as the air fills with the smell of rain.  We stare; at least I do, at the figure now standing next to the doctor.   I do a mental handclap at the doctor's showmanship.  Giving silent acknowledgment at how well the last few minutes have been orchestrated.

 

"The First Pryian will explain the implantation and birthing processes."

 

I keep wondering if those around me are thinking the same as I, that I'm dreaming an actual Liegelian.  There have been photos and video and written descriptions in each packet of info given but the reality.  The physical evidence makes sitting here feel surreal.   

 

His digits are long; the same five as on a human hand but without visible joints, but the width of his palm is broader.  Without thinking I grab the Captain's hand thinking to compare it to the First Pryian's.   He clears his throat and I place his hand back against his thigh, slightly embarrassed.  

 

First Pryian's clothing gives a hint of arms and legs filled with thick cords of muscle under layers of almost translucent flesh, tinted reddish-yellow.  Hairless human shaped head with large dark colored eyes, narrow lips and small ears high on the side of the head.  Its voice...no his voice... it's not unpleasant, just difficult to understand until the ear becomes accustomed to the sound of syllables produced under miles and miles of water.  

 

"Earth-Mothers, my following words will surprise or distress some of you but I want to assure you that we have your welfare as our main objectives but due to the scarcity of viable Liegelian genome each woman will be required to mate with two or more representatives of the House you have been genetically paired to, if implantation does not occur during the first immersion.   Each encounter after the first will be several days apart and the cycle will continue until implantation occurs.  Your medical team will closely and carefully monitor each encounter."

 

"Oh hell," is out of my mouth before I can stop myself, but I can't help thinking this is a sexual freaks fantasy.  I feel the Captain's glance and I face him.  He's wearing an expression that says either you're bizarre agreed to this or I'd like to get in on this action  I shrug knowing that I'm probably projecting my insecurity on him, especially since I'm still trying to wrap my mind around having sex with aliens.

 

The Liegelian physician leaves the podium and the still silent audience to Dr. Stevenson.  "As you leave the room tonight you will be given another information packet similar to the one you were given at the institute with updated data regarding the implantation process, your rights and responsibilities and the medical team assigned to assist you throughout your times on the Excellence.  Please read everything very carefully.  Doing so should guarantee a successful experience and help reduce any cultural, physical or psychological difficulties.  Tomorrow morning each you will be introduced to your Liegelian House and first donor."

 

With a few additional words of greetings and encouragement from other members of the ship's staff we are dismissed and I escaped for my quarters unwilling to mingle or perform the expected group niceties.  I desperately need to be alone to absorb and prepare.   I've never had a successful plan and tonight is no different.    I'm alone in the corridor waiting for the doors of the elevator to open, thinking about alien sex, how fast I can get out of my bra once I have some privacy and how much several large glasses of wine will help alleviate my angst.  The elevator door opens with a soft whoosh.

 

I step aside as a ships member exits his hand raised to salute.  "Captain."

 

I step inside with the Captain a step behind me.  Okay, so I'm not going to be alone. Sliding my IDstrip across the recorder in the wall to my right, I stare at the panel waiting for the Captain to do the same.  He doesn't.  The door closing and the numbers flashing on the panel are the only hints that the elevator is moving.  The silence bothers me.  The Captain in the same enclosed space as I am bothers me.  It's irrational on my part I know but I'm tired, a little frightened about what faces me tomorrow and I'm too aware that I'm in a small box on a man-made machine traveling through the blackness of space.  There are no soft landings out here and the man everyone is depending on to safely deposit us on another world is standing inches away from me wearing this all-knowing smile on his face.   The box stops and I step out into the shared lounge that leads to the three wings of guest rooms.   Captain Nakashima steps out also.  It seems we're going to finish our conversation.  I crawl into one of the large loungers and wait for him to begin.

 

"During the summer of ‘016 I attended a revival performance of ningyo-joruri."  

 

The words sound familiar but I let him translate.

 

"Japanese puppet theatre."

 

"Bunraku," I murmur remembering the Q with a huge smile on his face.  "It was our 9th anniversary and we gave each other our most outrageous wish.  Q...my husband had read an article about an all day performance of the ancient art form.   The theatre was packed.  He was enthralled.  We had to watch every performance."   It takes a moment to move Q image and focus on the captain's face.   I searched for any memory of him. "I don't remember meeting you."

 

"We did not meet.  I watched you and your husband among the group of artists and musicians after the performance?" 

 

"Yes, Q wormed his way back stage.  He talked for ages to a group of artist dressed in some of the most beautiful costumes I had ever seen.  You were there?"

 

"I watched you waiting for him.  You would signal hurry up and he would smile hold up a finger or two to signal how much more time he required.  After a time you smiled walked over to where he stood with the others, said something that made him smile.   You pulled on the lapel of his dress coat until he bowed his head then you kissed him and walked away. 

 

I smile at the memory.  "I went back to our hotel.  The kiss was a reminder of..." I stop talking. That memory was mine not for anyone else. 

 

"That was Q.  He loved ancient cultures and the people they formed.  He had dreamed of traveling the migration routes of early humans from Africa to Asia to South American, before he became ill."

 

"You were married?"

 

"We met in college.  He was my first and last lov..."  I stop again, thinking that was way too much info.  This getting to know each other was too one sided.  I needed to talk less and listen more.  A loud beep sounds from my wristband interrupting the silence.  I push the pink light and the beep goes silent.

 

"You're being summoned."

 

"Seems so." 

 

"Do you want me to escort you?"

 

"No, I'm going to ignore whoever it is and rest.  Long day tomorrow."

 

The Captain rises to his feet.  He doesn't say that we'll finish this conversation another time; it's his nod to me that tells he would like to.

 

Chapter 7

 

House of the Fourth Waters of Golden 5 aboard the Excellence - Day 10...

 

It takes me 20 minutes to convenience my hand to move over the reader that will give me access to the Liegelian House I have pledged my allegiance to.   You'd think that after all I have talked myself into doing to achieve my dream that I'd be eager instead of hesitating.  I'm thinking I should go back to my room, pray and ponder about the meaning of life and wish fulfillment as the door opens with a soft hiss and the decision is taken out of my hands. 

 

Expecting to see First Pryian's twin, I'm surprised by the being standing before me.  Though the body type is similar, this Liegelian's coloring is heavier in the yellow hue.  The pupiless eyes the color of Earth's summer sun.  Even his voice is different, deeper, and clearer.

 

"I...Nge bring you welcome.  The children of Khrysos...Golden 5...House of the 4th Waters bid you enter and walk with us for the remainder of our lifetime." 

 

His brief pause and the closing of his eyes causes my fevered imagination to think we've, I mean us humans, have incorrectly renamed his planet.  Khrysos I repeat silently.  His pronunciation of the word had sounded reverent.  I want to ask if my assumption is correct but I won't interrupt his formal greeting.  I remember it's considered impolite to do so.  I'll just have to ask Dr. Hernandez.

 

As he finishes I know I'm supposed to say something in reply to the gracious welcome.  But I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that this is the being I'm about to invite into my body.     

 

We stand facing each other, judging, taking in the sameness as well as the differences between us.   I can't stop wondering what he sees.   Does he see or acknowledge that I'm something more than an Earthier?  Someone with eyes that requires artificial aid to function fully.  An individual with hair that covers 90% of its body with skin degrees dark than his own.  Skin that sweats and hides muscle and bone.  A human female that smells of artificially produced air and enclosed space. 

 

He steps away from the door, giving space.  His movement is fluid, exotic in a disturbingly unfamiliar way; opposite to human men who walk heavily, dominating the space around them.  This Liegelian seems to be a part of the space surrounding him. 

 

I step inside stopping just inside the door watching as he turns his back to me, leading the way across the room to another chamber.  This space, I remember, on Golden 5 is called the place of greeting.  Visitors gather there with House members before moving to other parts of the dwelling.   It is larger than I expected.   The walls are covered in an ice blue color that feels of deep spaces and cools the skin.  There are no furnishings to speak of, just objects that protrude from the wall in random places. 

 

Nge summons to me from another doorway.  With a few hesitant steps I'm inside the room.  Its walls are the same color as the previous room.  This one has furniture.   Three large brownish mounds nearly knee high are positioned in front of the part of the wall forms a large tub made from an unfamiliar material.  It is filled with a burnished colored liquid that smells like a kitchen full of fresh garden greens being steamed.

 

I wish the dispensers of the information had given us more details of everyday Liegelian life.  You know like what a chair or a light fixture looks like.  What kinds of plants or structures are you likely to find inside or outside a Liegelian's House.  Do they flush every time or every other?   Then maybe I wouldn't have to guess.    Common sense says ask but I'm too caught up to do what easy.    So I wonder about everything expect for what is on the wall opposite the door I'm stationed in front of.   The tub.

 

The tub's use has been explained in every update we've been given, reminding me of the bits and pieces from the last info packet.  Like the fact that Liegelian's mate in the waters of their planet.  They either use the tub or visit each House's ancestral waters.   They do not verbalize during mating but are willing to do so in an effort to make humans more comfortable.  That aspect I was curious about.  Making love in complete silence.  No music, no grunting or groaning.  No dirty words or expression of gratitude for a good time.  The idea that there is no conversation between us is comforting.  I didn't need any words.  They will not alleviate the knot of nervousness forming in my stomach or stop the thought that I just wanted to get this done and over with.  Curiosity and the need to do something unusual are no longer the reasons for my participation.  Only the need to give birth to a healthy child keeps me from running out of the room and demanding I be sent back home.

 

Nge removes his clothing without preamble and I wonder what he's thinking.  What he feels.  I'm thinking I should stop wondering what he thinking and do what I came to do.   He stands in stillness waiting for me to remove my clothing.     The moisture laden air cools my skin but not my embarrassment.  I knew this had to happen but it has been fifteen years since I've made love.  Fifteen years for time to leave its marks on my body.  Dark spots, sagging skin, dimples inside of dimples.   My body looks elegant inside my clothing, I've been told this many times, but without the camouflage of fabric, well...

 

Standing inches apart I watch cautiously as he leans forward until his forehead touches mine.   His skin feels cool, slick.     His tongue flicks across my eyes which automatically close at the intrusion.   That's a new one.  His lips touch mine.  His tongue seeks entrance.  With a deep breath preparing myself I open my lips.  His taste is not unpleasant just acidic like licking fresh lemon juice from your fingers.   I keep reminding myself that this is not a human to human kiss; its purpose to arouse.  This kiss between Liegelian and human is a first step.  The required first mingling of body fluids that prepares my body to receive and hold his seed within my womb; the sharing of fluids ends and we avoid staring at each other and the urge to wipe our lips of each other's lingering after taste.     

 

He moves closer, his body molding to me from chest to toe.  How does he do that I wonder before I have to concentrate on what he's saying.  His lips against my ear, "tell me what you need to increase the chance of implantation."

 

I'm quiet, working on how to not to lose myself in the feeling of his body melding into my own.  This feeling of immersion is foreplay I could get use to.   It's like uh...uh.  I feel a change between us and I can hear his words again. 

 

"For us the act of mating does not require emotional attachment but we have studied the need of some human females to have a certain amount of attachment to those they mate with.  It has been explained that because of the brevity of our joining this attachment can be fostered by asking and then emulating what pleases you.  So I will ask again.  What physical aspect of joining do you need to achieve satisfaction?"

 

The only time a male has asked me what I need to fully participate in a sexual act has been never and when one finally does, he's an alien and I'm stumped.    The Romance novels make the act seem so easy, he asks and she says touch me here or there and they both experience the most exquisite orgasm of their existence.  Hell, in the real world that's not even close to what happens.   At the beginning of our marriage Q would ask but he did not truly understood until late into our marriage.   It took years in which we experimented and fumbled and at times disappointed each other until we finally began to click, our knowledge of each other  in sync.

 

Now I find myself standing in a darkened room, in a spaceship, light years away from Earth, waiting to receive a stranger into my body.  We are separate entities that for a period touched and that touch showed me being with him is not as I expected or feared.   I know what I want.

 

"I want to experience the feelings of earlier.  I want that again."  Picking me up into his arms Nge walks us to the tub.  The water is warmer than I expected, the scent muted.    We move against and with each other in the almost silence.  Our music the swish of liquid around our bodies. 

 

Chapter 8

 

 I leave heading to the infirmary determine to...what.   A feeling of heaviness inside interrupts my pondering.  Motion, alieness.  Irrationally I want to rid myself of whatever is inside me while needing to protect it.  Maybe this feeling is why we were instructed to go directly to the infirmary after the encounter.  I stop walking my thoughts jumbled.  It doesn't feel good.  I need clarity.    I walk back to his door, focused on remembering each moment, each sensation since entering Nge's rooms.   Focus in remembering so that my child, if there is a child can hear from me about his or her beginning.  A child deserves to know where and from whom they came from.  It's not being focused on one set of thoughts that brings clarity, but time, distance between my encounter with  Nge.

 

I recognize the nurse exiting one of the many doors lining the room.  She pulls a pad from a slot at the desk and walks to where I'm standing staring at the few other women sitting in the quiet room, looking as disorientated as I feel.     

 

"Ms. Dalton?"

 

"Yes."  She smiles at me. 

 

"My name is Jamey Walters and I've been assigned as your on call nurse while you're here on the Excellence. 

 

You can wait for the doctor in exam room 6."  She notices that I'm slow moving forward.  With one hand at my back she places the other under my elbow.  Her touch is warm, fingers strong as she guides me forward.  We walk to a door with the number 6 etched deep into the metal.   Inside she begins what I've come to think of as assessment 101.  She checks my eyes, pulse, ears, blood pressure and lungs.  Several quick taps of the stylus verifies the data showing on her pad and my arm band.  Finished she looks at me. 

 

"I'm going to step out while you change into the gown on the chair next to you.  I'll stay if you need help."

 

I shake my head no.

 

"Once you've changed, rest here until Dr. Hernandez arrives to complete your exam."

 

I move between semi-consciousness and deep sleep before feeling Dr. Hernandez's hand on my shoulder shaking me awake.  "Terreece?"

 

"I'm here."

 

He smiles at my answer.   "I'll be taking tissue samples, blood and conducting a pelvic exam."

 

I move to get more comfortable as the end table begins to move upward, my heads now pointing at the floor. "By now with all the medical progress mankind has made you'd think there would be a more dignified way for a physician to look at my sexual organs."

 

Dr. Hernandez chuckles.

 

I try to stay focused as he moves around the room, preparing but my eyes won't stay open; it easier to let them close.

 

"Terreece."

 

"Humm."

 

"Congratulations the first implantation was successful."

 

I nod too sleepy to form words or stop the tears filling my eyes.  It's happened.  I'll deal with the emotional stuff when I wake up.

 

Chapter 9

 

I wake up in pain similar to the cramps I used to experience as a young adult.  My short trip down memory lane is interrupted by Nurse Walters working with the IV dripping a cool solution into my arm. 

 

I struggle to sit up.  "When did?

 

The nurse smiles at me.  "The doctor had you moved.   Deep slumber seems to be a side effect of the implantation.  The medical team believes it's your body's way of giving the zeogoate a better chance of successful maturation.  How are you feeling?"

 

Achy."

 

"If you experience too much discomfort or an extreme burning sensation, push to the call button immediately." 

 

"How long will I be here?"

 

"Your body is experiencing an extraordinary rate of change, to be safe we'll monitor you for the reminder of the night.  I'll notify Dr. Hernandez that you're awake.  Are you hungry, thirsty?"

 

I shake my head no and she leaves.  When I awake again, it's to the sound of my name and voices in whispered conversation.  I close my eyes to refocus and when I open them I see Dr. Hernandez talking with Captain Nakashima, and Nge...no it's not my child's donor but the Liegelian physician from the briefing. 

 

"Tired."  I hear myself murmur in answer to someone's question. 

 

The Liegelian physician moves closer to my bed.  The scent of Golden's waters fills my nose.

 

"Earth-Mother-Dalton-Terreece, the overseers of the houses of Khrysos acknowledge your contribution.  Your medical data indicates that the implantation should be successful.  But should this beginning end, you will be welcomed again."

 

"Goody!" I whisper.  "The possibility of more alien sex in a tub of warm syrup."

 

I hear laughter and a sound like hard rain against a window.

 

Chapter 10

 

Shedding the hospital gown I step into the large tub.   I've been pregnant approximately forty days and I can't enjoy it.  It's not fair this constant feeling of tiredness.  Everyone from the medical team assigned to me to one of the servers in the cafeteria, has said the feeling will disappear once my body has adjusted to the changes it's experiencing.  I need to believe them but HELL, it's still unfair and all I can do is force myself to  concentrate on the routine so I can function.

 

"Ms Dalton, let the fluid cover you from chin to foot."

 

I tell my body to relax, my fists to unclench.  Finally I'm able to stretch out in the fuscous fluid.

 

"Good.  Remember you will have to complete these emersions for the remainder of your pregnancy.  The fluid's mixtures of organic materials that will help keep your body from rejecting the fetus. 

 

Stepping out of the tub I dread the walk to the showers.  Leaving one type of fluid for another today is one action too much.  I long to be home sitting against Q headstone soaking in the heat of the summer sun.  Standing under the beat of the water I promise myself the sun.

 

Chapter 11

 

Starship Excellence - Day 124...

 

I enter the exam room ready to start my weekly rant about the room's temperature and having to wait for my inquisitors, but I'm stumped.  The room's temperature is almost pleasant and Dr. Hernandez enters the room almost walking on my heels.   He asks ten questions, not the usually 40, gently prods my growing stomach and I'm sitting upright ready to hear my exam results.  I'm not only stumped, I'm impressed.   He sits on his miniature throne swinging his knees back and forth, humming his usual tune as he manipulates the face of his data pad and I feel that he knows he's earned bonus points.  When he's finished he's all official, business at hand.

 

"Your cholesterol levels have risen and you've gained several pounds.  The weight gain is okay but I want you to begin an exercise regimen instead of my prescribing medicine to control the cholesterol."

 

"Exercise?"

 

"Exercise," he repeats.  "Nothing strenuous at this phase of the implantation.  Begin with ten minutes of effort, three times a week in the ship's NG room."

 

"NG?" I ask.

 

"No gravity, but for you it will be a low gravity environment.   It may take two to three visits before your body adjusts allowing you to reach the levels we want without over taxing your cardio and reproductive systems.   We'll also team the exercise with the daily baths.  This should keep you and the hyb...the baby in excellent shape for delivery once you reach Golden 5."

 

"So in addition to walking, you want my oversized frame to flail around in a near weightless environment?"

 

 "Yes, even more I'm requiring it until your levels lower."   Husband #1 as the ladies have nicknamed Dr. Hernandez, my name for him is...well its unsuitable for young audiences, uncrosses his legs and stands.  "I'll step outside while you dress.  When you're ready I'll walk you to the cafeteria.  We both need to partake in some nourishment."  He smiles at me.  "I'll even be magnanimous enough to let you count the walk as part of this week, required steps."

 

 

 

"Okay as long as you remember I have to make ten steps to your one and I'm carrying a being that weighs the equivalent of a bowling ball."

 

 

 

True to his word Dr. Hernandez is waiting for me in the hallway and as we walk he actually remembers to shorten his steps, for the most part.

 

 

 

 We join the line just inside the cafeteria doors.  Acting like the old world gentlemen he thinks he is, he motions for me to step in front of him.  As we move through the line a thought occurs to me.  "Doc., we were told at the Institute that the waters of Golden 5 along with whatever medical mojo currently available would keep us healthy enough to conceive and produce viable children.  Won't soaking a few hours more in that thick soup help regulate my levels?"        

 

My friendly Dr. Frankenstein smiles and I know he's going to enjoy poking holes in my screwed logic.  "Let me explain why you're going to faithfully follow the exercise plan I've developed for you.  We earthers view our bodies as vehicles to be abused and misused until they're regulated to the "useless shit pile."

 

I know I have that "I'm so lost" look on my face but he just continues in his patient country doctor persona. 

 

"Even though the waters of Golden 5 are able to in laymen's terms ‘change the old into new', your out of shape aging self has a heavy duty job to do and to do it you need to establish and maintain a certain level of care.  And for you, right here, right now that level of care is?" 

 

He looks down at me, expecting an answer."

 

"Exercise."

 

"Exercise.  Isn't it great to have a clear understanding?"

 

I walk forward before the words circling my brain, reach my tongue.

 

Chapter 12

 

Ever had one of those days?  Everyone has except maybe the newly born.  Everyone of my generation has heard the saying, "those that can't, teach," and it's a true enough saying to hang around a few thousand years more.   Anyway, it expresses how I'm currently feeling about Doctor Hernandez, as I'm depositing used body fluids into the waste disposal bin outside the NG room.  The sadist neglected to explain that a person who has not accumulated themselves to how low grav or no grav works then goes to play in the romper room will embarrass themselves.   What he should have told me is, Terreece, you can eat your fill, take a 4-5 hour nap, sit in observation or watch a couple of hours of video and then on an almost empty stomach walk by NG on your way to wherever.

 

It wasn't the twenty minutes of weightlessness or the three or four times I tried to touch my toes or even the awkward knee lifts that made me ill.  It was the stomach churning squeezing as they turned up the gravity to normal a level.

 

"Towel?"

 

"Thanks."  I say into the cloth.    Standing up I look into the face of the man who will become my newest best friend.  Not today because while I feel like crap, smell like sweat and vomit and look like a fifty year old pregnant woman, while the good Captain looks capable, relaxed and in control of his world.  "I'll return this after my turn in the laundry."

 

"Come on I'll walk you back to your suite."

 

All I can do is nod okay; cover my mouth with the towel and work really hard not to throw up again.

 

"What about..."  I stop talking-stop breathing because my stomach had decided it doesn't like fresh air.

 

"I can finish my workout after you're settled."

 

We walk slowly or rather I do, stopping as my stomach dictates.  At the door to my rooms I try to say thanks but my insides decide to empty its contents again and I leave him standing with a slightly queasy look on his face.

 

Chapter 13

 

"Tea?"

 

The sound of a male voice and the smell of mint and flowers and my stomach reacting to the smell wakes me up and the voice in my head says, the person with the tea is Haruto and he's sitting on your bed and then it tells me that he shouldn't be sitting on my bed.  My stomach makes noises saying it doesn't care so I reach for the cup between us.  I sip and the noises disappear and the sleep clogging my mind sloughs away.  I take another sip, before speaking, hoping the mint has freshen my breath because Haruto and I are almost nose to nose. 

 

"Thank you."

 

"You're welcome."

 

I scoot backward until I can look at him without my eyes crossing.  "How long have you been here?"

 

"Long enough to find and brew a pot of tea."

 

My bladder begins to scream at me and I hand him the cup as I move off the bed and toward relief. 

 

Chapter 14

 

"You've been ignoring me since last week in the library," greets me as I enter the living area.

 

I flash back.   Having decided to ignore Doc H's order to exercise I'd instead camped out in the library reading the trashest novels I could find.  It was fun guilty pleasure until my back began to itch.  You know in that place between your shoulder blades just out of reach.   I squirmed in the chair for a while but that didn't work.  I looked around for someone I can ask to scratch my back, but it seemed I was the only occupant.  So I got up and walked down a couple of stacks out of eyesight, so I thought, and rubbed the spot against the closest object.  I was just getting some relief when I heard a cough.  You know the one where someone is trying to get your attention without screaming your name. 

 

I look in the direction of the cough, the itching ignored for the moment.  "Captain."

 

He's wearing a smile that says "I caught you looking stupid."

 

"Go ahead and laugh."

 

"You should ask one of the officers in ship's stores for a back scratcher."

 

"Until then would you?"  I grab his hand before he forms an answer and turning my back to him, guide it upward.

 

"Yes," I moan a real moan.  "Right there, harder."

 

"Thank you."  I'd released his hand and scurried away with a hasty garbled, "thanks" and his laughter following me.

 

"Would you like another cup of tea and something to eat?  And you're right I  have."

 

"Is there a reason?"

 

"I try to limit my embarrassing moments to once a month."

 

"Using my hand as a back scratcher was an embarrassing moment for you?  And yes I'd like something to eat."

 

"The other?"

 

"I've been a hormonal time bomb and as you were scratching my back I was seriously considering asking you to be my boy toy, to you know, kill the urge."

 

His laughter fills the room.  "What if I'd agreed?"

 

I hand him a sandwich and glass of ice tea.  I have no answer for his question.

 

Chapter 15

 

"It's day twenty of my attempt at exercising." I whisper to the lump entrenched under my ribs making the left side of my stomach bulge.   I drag myself back to my room grateful that my child and stomach has remained settled.  Inside I'm greeted by strands of Bach from the room's messaging system.  My mind says answer it may be important.  My intuition says DON'T, its trouble.   I ignore the feeling and point the remote at the wall monitor.  The screen flickers then fills with the faces of six or seven individuals each with glasses of liquid in their hands and wicked grins on their faces.

 

"Come join us."

 

I can't help the sigh that escapes as I hit the pause button and stare at the image frozen on the screen.   My finger hovers over the end button.  They're good women at least I believe they are but lately with them there's a hidden agenda behind their including me in their fun.  Last time they used me to finagle a bottle of liquor from the Chef's stores.  That cost me hours of apologizing and a lecture from the Captain.

 

I clicking the start button and the screen is filled with someone's arm.  I wait until the laughter is not as boisterous before speaking.  "Ladies I'm too tired to join you tonight, but thanks for the invitation."  And I click off.    I'm lounging in Q favorite tee shirt half listening to the computer reciting the Liegelian alphabet for the third time when there's pounding on the door.  No one pounds on a door anymore.   Muffled laughter followed by loud whispers and I know.  I've never been good at ignoring that type of thing and I can't now.  Opening the door I'm face to face with the group.

 

"You wouldn't come to us so we.  Let us in."

 

"Yeah," a second voice adds as they crowd me.  "We've got food, drink and interested conversation."

 

I stand still physically and mentally refusing to let them enter.  "No.  Ladies say what do you want, so I can say no again and get back to enjoying the remainder of my evening."

 

Seven sets of eyes stare at me.

 

"You're friends with the Captain, right?"  So the ringleader this time is Stevie, my ex-roommate at the Institute.    

 

"Why?"

 

 "We've selected you to ask him for a favor."

 

Chapter 16

 

"Captain." 

 

He turns, wearing a look of wistfulness that makes him even more handsome. 

 

"You're looking better."

 

"I'm feeling better."  I walk further into the room until I'm standing next to him.  We stare out at the pinpricks of lights moving past the layers of glass and plastic separating us from the coldness of space. 

 

"It doesn't look as cold as the books say it is."  I give him points for not needing to fill the silence with chatter.  It's comfortable standing next to someone who seems to appreciate the need for silence like I do.  I dread breaking the silence with the ladies request.  But I said I would, and I do try to keep my word.

 

"Captain, I'm here for two reasons.   We were allowed to bring a few keepsakes with us and after our conversation I remember that Q had a signed program from that night.  I thought you might be interested in seeing it."   I hand him the rolled parchment and push on with my next task.   "The ladies would like to have a baby shower and "We Did It" celebration.  

 

I expect him to say no, instead I hear.  "I'll have to discuss this with the Doc and the Liegelians first, then give the ladies my answer."

 

I ease toward the door watching his back. "You, your officers and crew are welcome to attend."  I say the words so fast I'm not sure he understood.   The Captain looks over his shoulder in my direction.  "Ladies invite?"

 

"I believe so."

 

"We haven't had a party on the Excellence in quite so time."

 

"If it happens, it'll be an interesting night, knowing my peers."

 

I can't see his face but he nods in the affirmative.

 

Chapter 17

 

Starship Excellence Day 274 - Golden 5...

 

It's a very subdued audience the few of us sitting at the various groupings of furniture dotting the vast room.  The bolder ones stand on the walkway that runs the length of the ship's observation deck staring out at the orb of molten rock.  Many of us with bellies that are big and heavy with the unknown, others with only a slight hint of what is to happen; ideas and postulation become reality.

 

It is the colors of Golden 5 that I notice first, colors so startling different than the world of my birth.  There are no discernable continents just streaks of color.  Golden 5 is not perfectly round like Earth; it isn't blue, green, and white like Earth.  It's not the Earth; I keep telling myself.

 

I listen to the others whisper, some voices filled with fear others with excitement.  At the beginning of this journey I was one of those filled with excitement, memories of an old love and expectation of a new one.  Now I sit among the others hear racing, unsure of everything.

 

A grinding fear has started to fill my days.  I've fallen in love with the idea of what's growing inside me.  An idea that may or may not come to fruition.  An idea that once born once claimed by its Liegelian donor will be taken from me and I'll be alone again.  Old and alone again.

 

Throughout my time at the Institute it had been discussed ad naeusm that those willing to raise their offspring on Golden 5 may never return to Earth.  I look out the observation window telling myself that I know the reality of my situation.  In fact I'd told myself that each time we received the briefing, but staring down at the planet I realize that I'd lied to myself.  I had yet to acknowledge all the possibilities.  I stand up slowly and leave the deck to go hide out in my room.  I'm cold, tired and feeling foolish by the time I'm undress and seeking refuge in sleep.

 

 

 

Chapter 18

 

"You look like you're enjoying yourself."

 

Shading my eyes with my hand, I look up at the Captain, please to see him.  It's been awhile since we have spoken to one another.

 

"May I join you?"  He points at the empty lounger next to me.

 

"Yes."

 

Captain Nakashima sits on its edge facing me.

 

"Doc says things are going well."

 

I forced down the eyebrow that's risen at his statement.  The good angel on my shoulder agrees with Doctor Hernandez's diagnosis.  We been orbiting the planet for some time now with slightly more than half our numbers now planetside.   Those remaining have been informed that the children are born healthy with little to no unexpected trauma to parent or child.    Though the rumor mill said that one mother, Georgia, died after delivery.  A death...some death is expect the shocker is that the Liegelian House she was bonded to held a week long unbonding ceremony that made our ten minutes of silence seem disrespectful.

 

"I'm glad he thinks so."  I mumble.   The Captain says nothing about my long moment of introspection or sarcastic remark.

 

"You believe something different?"

 

I lower my hand, my arm's tired.  Beneath lowered eyelids I stare at him, looking for a connection.  I need someone to listen as a lover might with quiet whispers and soft touches, restraint, honesty and a large amount of strength.  The pages of my journal are no longer enough and the medical team, well.  Their real job is not to be my lover or a shoulder to cry on but to make sure I'm strong enough to give birth to a healthy child. 

 

"Honest conversation, Captain?" I ask.

 

"Haruto."

 

"Haruto."  I parrot.

 

"I can do honest." He replies.

 

"For many of the women, myself included, it's the waiting that's become an ordeal.  One moment I'm climbing the wall to leave the Excellence then I'm filled with this mind numbing fear at leaving my room."

 

Saying nothing the Captain, no Haruto; I have permission to call him that now.  Haruto picks up the folder he'd moved earlier.  He opens it, glancing over a few pages.  His silence gives me permission to continue.  I sit up my knees touching his.

 

"We were given this journal at the beginning of the trial study, it's supposed to help us deal with whatever mental issues we have, told to write something, everything, everyday.  Our triumphs, fears, opinions, etcetera.   Last night for some reason I decided to read some of my entries, I have five pages front to back of what ifs. Five  eight and a-half by eleven pages of will I be a good mother, will my to have a child make the being I'm carrying miserable, can I live on a planet alone for the remainder of my life where I'm the stranger, the foreigner?  How sick is that?"

 

I wait watching as he looks down at his hands, then at something over my shoulder.  When he speaks it slowly as if he's carefully choosing his words. "Have you talked over your concern with the doctors?"

 

"No."  I sit back from him.  "My med team has been very supportive but ruthless in explaining what they know of the kind of life we "human donors" can expect if we either decided to give the child up to its Liegelian parent or decide to remain on Khrysos.    I know the Liegelian's will never view us as life partners nor it seems will we be allowed to marry or cohabitated with human men and live on the planet."  I pause for him to say something.

 

He doesn't.

 

"Rumor is that the Liegelian Counsel has rejected Earth's request that human couples be allowed to live on Golden 5.  Their concern is that human couples with Liegelian children or human children smacks of colonization and the Liegelian's are not having that."

 

Haruto finally looks at me.  "You know how politics is.  Nothing is a certainty.  The universe is small, the human lifespan short compared to the universe and what's in it." 

 

It's my turn to stay silent.

 

"What you've started cannot be undone.  So indecision and fear seems useless at this point."

 

"Your advice is for me to live in the whine free zone."

 

"You're allowed to express your concerns whenever you want."

 

I begin to gather up my things, the heat of the imitation sun no longer comfortable or maybe it's Haruto's bluntness.  It takes a couple of adjustments before I'm standing.

 

He offers me his arm.  "Being an adult has its perks."

 

"Such as?"

 

"Friends willing to listen whenever you need, them to."

 

I link my arm through his, "thank you."

 

 

 

Chapter 19

 

Your tests results are much better the emersions and exercise are working.  It's just that..."

 

I shift on the exam table trying to get comfortable and not interrupt.  Dr. Hernandez hesitates two seconds too long and I do what I had determined not to.  "It's just that the beach ball I'm carrying has decided he or she doesn't want to be born on the date you and the medical team dreamed up."

 

Dr. Hernandez chuckles.  "Yes, no, perhaps.  After discussing your results with the others, especially the Liegelian physician, we've decided that if you have not delivered by the end of the week we'll do a surgical delivery.  In the meantime, tomorrow you will be transported to the planet.  Maybe with the pull of the planet and tidal effects will mature the fetus enough to release the hormones necessary to begin the birthing process.

 

I've hear some of what he's said, but not much after planetside.

 

"When?"

 

"Tomorrow night."

 

"You will stay at a waiting facility near the hospital."

 

"Okay." 

 

Maybe he thought I didn't understand because he sits on the stool in front of me and rolls closer until we're also forehead to chest.  "You're going to be fine.   There are several other ladies staying at the facility so you'll have company."

 

"Their status same as mine?"

 

"I can't discuss them with you Tee but I'm sure you won't be waiting long for the child to be born."

 

I smile.  It's a poor one I know but after all the waiting, the idea of leaving the Excellence has me thinking and moving in slow motion.

 

"Will you be at the delivery?" 

 

"Yes."  He moves back, his finger taps a button on the tablet balanced across his leg and the exam table slowly lowers until my feet touch the floor.  "I set an on-call appointment for you at the hospital.  You're expected to check in after checking into housing.  There you'll meet the new members of your medical team and the doctor scheduled to perform surgery if required."

 

 

 

Chapter 20

 

Haruto's door opens to my summons.

 

"Come in."  One hand encircles my wrist, the other takes the food I'd packed.  He steps back into the room, pulling me with him.  We sit shoulder to shoulder in silence on the oversize lounger near a large circular aquarium, the picnic basket on a chair near the door of kitchenette.    His hand still wrapped around my wrist slides downward over my fist closed around the locket-ring on my ring finger.  Strong fingers gently move each of mine like a flower opening its petals.  His forefinger moved the sliver of marble from Q's marker around my palm, touching stone and the skin of my palm at the same time.

 

"This is?"

 

"A chip from Q's headstone."

 

"Do you miss him?"  Haruto closes my fingers back around the chip.

 

I smile at him and bump him with my shoulder.  "I'm not here to talk about Q.  I came to celebrate with a friend. To show him how much his listening means to me."

 

I resist the urge to trace his raised eyebrows expressing his surprise at my statement.

 

 

 

Chapter 21

 

"I'm in the mood for tea."  Haruto says as he slides off the lounger and disappears into the small space that serves as a kitchen.

 

The meal had gone better than I imagined.  The conversation had been light but meaningful as we ensconced ourselves on the lounger like teenagers, eating finger sandwiches, pasta salad and fruit, and listening to Haruto's stereo.  He returns with two mugs of scented tea and hands them to me.   Once he's comfortable I hand him the mug he points out. 

 

"Where will you go once the last trial subject is planetside?" I ask waiting for the liquid to cool enough to drink.

 

"We'll stay in orbit long enough to give the women who want to return the opportunity to obtain their medical release and official permission from the Liegelian government.  After the Excellence has been refitted she's scheduled for a year tour in deep space."

 

"A year," I repeat.

 

"We can communicate by vid or the old fashion way."

 

"Which old fashion way?"  I ask.  "Are you talking about carrier pigeon, pony express or texting."

 

Haruto raises up slightly his body turned toward mine.  "Texting!"

 

"I was married to an educator, stuff rubbed off."

 

"I bet."  He quipped, relaxing back on the lounger.

 

"Do I need to apologize ahead of time to Mrs. Nakashima for taking up your vid time?"

 

He chuckles and I think I'd like to hear that sound more often.  "There is no Mrs. Nakashima to apologize to."

 

"Significant other?"

 

"No."

 

I feel him shift on the lounger.  His head is resting against the back, his legs crossed.  "Significant other.  That's an old term."

 

"I'm an old person."  I stare at the bottom of the miniature tea cup.   The Irises etched into the bottom a brilliant purple now slightly dulled by the tea dregs.

 

I look over at Haruto, his eyes are closed.  "I'm not attached romantically to anyone.  My close circle consists of parents, siblings, extended family and the Excellence."

 

"Are you close?"

 

Haruto opens his eyes and leans over and puts his empty mug on the table near the lounger.  "Do you mean to my family or my ship?"

 

"Your family," I say after a final sip.

 

"Do you mean physically or emotionally?"

 

"Both."

 

"Yes.  We're all within shuttle distance.  Emotionally, the answer is, most times.  My parents are traditionalists who having a wanderer for a son have made it difficult for them.  But they continue to nurtured each of us, celebrate our differences and accomplishments while holding us accountable for our choices."

 

The beach ball has decided to shift to right side of my body its feet pushing against my ribs.  I rub at the spot hoping he or she will take the hint and move.  The pressure easies.  Haruto watches me his eyes locked on the lump moving under my shirt.

 

"Why no wife or current girlfriend?"  I ask to break the silence, not to be nosey.

 

"I love women and each relationship has been satisfying in some way..."

 

I sit up straighter taking some of the pressure off my back.  "But out of all...." I intentally drag out the word,  "those relationships no one stuck?"  Standing up he takes my now empty cup and picking up his mug walks to the kitchenette.   I hear the clink of dishes, silence and then he's standing in the doorway staring at me rubbing my stomach again. The beach ball is back to using my ribs as exercise equipment again.

 

"The relationships fizzled out once they realized that being with me meant sharing me with the Excellence and the freedom of traveling in space.  So far I haven't found a woman willing to travel for years in space or wait for me, and more importantly..."

 

I scoot forward until my feet touch the floor, "excuse me."  The beach ball is how resting against my bladder and I seriously need to pee.  Two cups of tea and I feel like I'm holding back the Red Sea.  I stand slowly stomach leading.  I walk quickly past Haruto.    Sitting on the toilet I smile because one, I made it without wetting my underwear; two, it's a stream and not the usually slow drizzle so I won't be in the bathroom for thirty minutes and three, the beach ball has decided to move.  I wattle, no walk back into the living area.  Haruto is not there.  I go to the kitchenette.  He's drying dishes.

 

"And more importantly..." I prompt.

 

"Earlier," Haruto three points the cloth he's finished using into the recycle bin, "when your stomach was moving is   that as uncomfortable as it looks?"

 

"At times, not so much right now."

 

His hand reaches out and rest against my shirt.  We wait for the child to move.  It does after several seconds.  My skin is thinner now and I think my child reacts to body heat.

 

"And more importantly," I say again.

 

"And more importantly as I've grown older, wiser...I've gleaned that I need friends more than lovers."

 

I look up from where his hand still rests against my stomach, he's wearing this intense look. 

 

"So I focused my energies most days on being a better friend."

 

"Important lesson learned."  I lay my hand against his.  "When I lost Q I lost my best friend and it was years before I was able to see or acknowledge offers of friendship."  I smile, "it seems the beach ball likes your voice."  The movement underneath my shirt has grown still.   "I should go."

 

"No, stay.  I promise I'll make sure you're up in time to make planetside." 

 

"Why?"

 

"Do you remember the night of the orientation when we first met?"

 

"Yes."  He takes my hand and walks us back to the lounger.

 

"I've always remember the night when I first saw you and your husband.  The look of adoration you and he shared.  You looked at him as if he was special and when I've needed that feeling, I've recalled that night.  And tonight as we talked and laughed I felt light I didn't have to use that memory anymore because I have my own."

 

 "Oh."  Is all that I can say.

 

 

 

Chapter 22

 

In the time where my mind is clear from pain, I'm aware of my surroundings.  The swish of clothing moving against bodies, the beep of machines, smell of blood and water.  The med team has tried to prepare me for this but no one can truly prepare you for the experience of childbirth; no breathing techniques or exercises or self-hypnotism, nothing prepares you for this.  I feel the pressure building, my body tenses.  It knows.  My heart beats harder.  The beeping of the monitor increases as the ache in my lower back builds.  Soon every moment will be a cycle of pain.   Through the fog I hear Doctor Hernandez prompting me to breathe.   I can't remember how long I'm in the cycle of pain and relief but at some point the pain becomes the urge to push, to rid myself of the incessant pressure.

 

 "Terreece, push.  Again...again."

 

 

 

Chapter 23

 

Okay that as unpleasant.  Is my first clear thought, quickly followed by a sharp tugging in the lower region of my body; my brain registers tightness in my breasts.  Baby, I had a baby, is my next thought.  I open my eyes and look down and see a mass squirming under the sheet covering me.  And my brain screams monster, I had a monster that they don't want me to see. I have to see.  I push away the sheet, and undo the clasp holding the bandages around my chest and the lump attached to it.  Unwinding the cloth aggravates places that hurt more now than in the midst of my active labor.  In the middle of this is I'm praying let it be normal, please God let it be normal.  With the cloth gone the bundle falls downward toward the floor, I reach out and touch a mound of flesh and bone and bloody matter.    I scream.

 

I open my eyes and stare upward at the ceiling.  It's the third time I've had this dream or something similar since the baby's been born.  My mouth taste chalky and my back and lower stomach are still tender.  But I'm happy that my breast no longer feels like unripe cantaloupes.   I shift in the bed until I'm able to sit up and swing my legs over the side.  He's wrapped in what looks like miles of cloth.  Dr. Hernandez explained that he's having difficulty regulating his body temp and to keep him from developing pneumonia they're keeping him bundled.  So this is the first time they've left him overnight.  I'm glad.  I pull the bassinet closer.   It takes effort but I'm able to lift him up and into my lap.  I fumble at removing the swaddling fearful but pleased at getting to know my son.  I'm tired by the time he is finally unwrapped.  Eyes the color of an Earth's winter sunset, brilliant, vermilion and beautiful look up at me from a face I do not know. He's still as if he knows he's suddenly this is the most important moment in the universe. 

 

"Hello," I whisper.   I stroke an almost human face, arms, hands, and fingers.  He looks familiar, and I know I can love him.  I'm sad that my acceptance is growing because he more human than Liegelian.  I thought I was better than that, I'm not.

 

I look him over, seeking to memorize him as he is now before he changes as he must.    Long upper body, narrow from chest to hip, so different from a human infant; he will be tall.  Long limbs without obvious joints, wide feet each with five slightly webbed toes; his legs kick strongly at my touch. Sexual organs that look close to human normal.   It is his eyes that draw and hold me.  I hold him closer and his mouth roots for nourishment.  I help his lips find my nipple.  The first tugs are painful.   I watch him wondering what he's thinking, feeling.  Does he think as I do or as his donor?    When he finishes I place him across my chest and stroke his back.  He sighs, his thin almost transparent lids cover his eyes and we sleep.

 

 

 

Chapter 24

 

Golden 5 - Day seven...

 

I want to leave this place, the birthing chamber and go home, wherever that is to be.  But the baby isn't cooperating.    We've spent the last forty-eight hours in combat.  He refuses to sleep longer than minutes at a time; he's eating constantly never satisfied and being touched bothers him.    He screams at me from his crib but I can't pick him up, I'm too tired; too angry, too humiliated that I can't mother my child.   I pull his crib closer. "You don't know how long I waited for you."  I force myself to whisper afraid that I'll scream at him.  "  Please stop this."

 

He lets out another scream of frustration and I draw back, my hands clutch the edge of the bed and I look at him wondering what to do.

 

"Pick him up, Terreece." 

 

I look across the room to the voice.  I've had so many people in and out my room since I went into labor that it's become routine, they've become invisible.   Dr. Stevenson walks to the end of the bed, behind him is the Liegelian physician from the Excellence.

 

"Pick him up," He says again. 

 

All I hear is a demand that I do something that will make my child scream at me.    I feel my eyebrows rise at his request and the helplessness within me wants to snap back.  "He doesn't want to be touched." 

 

"It's going to be okay.  We've," he turns to the physician standing next to him, "discussed his problems and think the solution is to bath him in the Liegelian's waters earlier than anticipated.  Your child is stretching our learning curve.  From the other births we expected that chemically, human genes would dominate.   In this case your child Liegelian's genes dominate.    Your child's genes are producing proteins that are usually inactive active until Liegelian's reach puberty.  We believe these proteins are causing his distress.  We are certain that performing the Liegelian's puberty ceremony which includes immersing him in the waters will mature his system neutralizing the proteins."

 

I look down at my child, whimpering in discomfort.  "How long will this last?  What happens when he reaches puberty?"

 

"We are uncertain."  The Liegelian physician finally speaks.

 

"How soon?"

 

"Members of the donor's House have agreed to perform the ceremony.  They're preparing the bath now."

 

I ease off the holding bed and into the wheelchair Jamey's holding.  A quick jostle and the baby's screams fill the air.  Holding an infant that cannot be comforted drags time.  If they had allowed me to walk I'd have run the three floors to the Liegelian section of the care facility. Instead we troop down the corridors our own personal circus.  Finally we're there, the smell of the waters heavy in the air.  The room's decor is familiar.  It's similar to the room on the Excellence.  Near the door stand my child's donor and several other Liegelians.  Watching them stand there I pull the screaming infant closer suddenly afraid that these next minutes will be the last time I'm able to hold him.

 

What if this doesn't work?  What if it does?  I may have to let him go.  Everything feels too real and I began to distance myself from the events going on around me.  He's not mine.  He was never meant to be mine.  He's an experiment.  He belongs to them.  All this I tell myself, forcing myself to believe.  I hold him up and out towards his donor and my child knows.  His cries become less shrill and I wonder if it's because he no longer has the energy to cry or he feels safer, away from me.  A part of me is grateful that he's not crying so hard, a part prays that the Liegelians see him as unfit, a deviant. 

 

Instead of taking him from me the Liegelians move as a unit to a large seed shaped vessel held off the ground by a circular column.  It stands waist level to them, upper chest to me.  They stand behind the vessel facing us.  Words are spoken between them that I cannot understand.   To the words they add motion; their bodies rocking forward and back from the ankle.  Hands move in and out of the thick liquid.    Moments pass and the volume of their voice escalate, echoing about the chamber.  Their movement accelerates, stirring the waters, my gram would say.   Long ago I'd seen vids of such exhortation; men of a faith standing before a wall calling on their deity.  Maybe the Liegelians were doing the same for my child.    His donor moves away from the vessel coming to stand before me his hands held outward.  I willing lay my child in them.   He unwraps him with as much care as I would have and I know that they have accepted who and what he is, better than I would have if he had looked more Liegelian. 

 

We watch as he lowers him into the warm reddish gold fluid.  Tears of frustration blur my vision as the baby rest quietly against the liquid.  I look over at the only other full human in the room.  Doc is kneeling by my side.

 

"They will lower him until he is fully covered.  He'll breathe in the liquid but he'll be okay."

 

I watch those people, no strike that, they're aliens.  I watch them chanting over my child, making him more like them, alien.  The chanting and their movement stop and the Liegelian donor pull my baby from the red glutinous fluid.  As he does I move forward in the chair looking for sign that my child is better.  "He should be moving, what's wrong?"  I ask to anyone with an answer.

 

Dr. Stevenson's hand on my shoulder grips tighter, holding me in the chair.   "He'll be okay." He says the words with a doctor's smooth tone. 

 

"You don't know that."  I reply unwilling to be soothed.

 

The Liegelian donor is standing in front of me holding the being that is part of us.  He lowers him into my arms.  I place my hand in the middle of his chest waiting for movement.  His heart beats furiously underneath my fingertips, his chest rises pushing my fingers upwards.  "He asleep."  I whisper.  "It amazing the difference, no tears, screams of pain."

 

It feels good to hold him without anxiety between us.  I rock him gently.  His Liegelian donor stands quietly, still.  I remember his name, now that he has returned my son to me.  Nge.  He still carries the scent of his house, fresh cut plants and constant moistness and now my child carries the scent; their connection deeper now. 

 

"You're presence here is pleasing."

 

"Thank you."  I wait for the bad news.

 

"We have been notified that you will be able to leave the care facility soon."

 

I look for Dr. Stevenson to confirm.

 

He nods his agreement.

 

"Our House awaits your arrival to begin your journey."

 

"You're not taking him now?"

 

"He is not yet ready."  He answers.

 

I know I should thank him and the others for not taking...  I look down at the sleeping child and know that I have been unfair.  "He should have a name."  I'd thought of him as the child for long enough.

 

"He will not receive his House name until his rite of passage.  Liegelian pods may carry whatever name the female chooses. We have been instructed that a shadow name is often given to your human off-spring.  This is satisfactory with us.

 

"Shadow?" I ask.

 

"Nickname."  A Liegelian physician from the Excellence answers.

 

"Oh."

 

"Have you chosen?"  Nge asks.

 

In the silence I can feel them all looking at me and doubts crowd my mind.  What should I name him?   In my family naming is a fund thing to do without the cultural and racial ritual some families give it.   And now to know that to the Liegelian's the name I give is temporary, a stopgap until the real thing.   So what name do I give to my child who will not understand or know that the name he lives with for all of his childhood and some of his youth is without substance to the people who will finally claim him?  How do I explain?  My thoughts shift as I realize that my identify too has changed.  I'm not longer just Terreece Dalton, friend, co-worker, widower.  By giving birth I have been transformed.  I belong to someone else.

 

His name is "Galen Dalton."  My father's given name and the last name of the other man I love. 

 

 

Chapter 25

This morning Galen and I are leaving the care facility for the temporary lodging arranged for the off world mothers.  Several weeks from now we're to move to the Liegelian House of Galen's donor and I'll either stay on Golden 5 the remainder of my life or until Galen reaches puberty.   Galen begins to whimpers for the first time since the ceremony raising my awareness.   Haruto is waiting for us at least I hope it's for us.

 


Chapter 26

I hurriedly rinse out the few dishes from Haruto's visit, the need to record my thoughts from the past few hours prompting me.  The days and weeks after Galen's birth I'd been too involved in just dealing with him and my feelings of inadequacies to write.  Now that things are better I want to record as much as I can remember.  Before touching my journal I stop at Galen's crib watching him for a few minutes finally with pleasure instead of fear.    Sitting in the middle of my bunk I flip pages until I find a blank one. 

 

1.         It was so good to see Haruto, to have him hold me as we said goodbye.  It saddens me that it will be 2 or 3 years before I see him again, but not the deep moroseness I thought it would be.   We'll talk and I'll be satisfied with that.  2.         I'm a mother!!!   3.         I'm a mother...and I have no desire to give birth again at least not on purpose.  Being pregnant was a meaningful learning experience...but it shouldn't take hours for something that big to travel through a passage that short. 4.         Once I was alone and pregnant now I no longer alone or pregnant5.         My child is a realized human-alien hybrid, leaning toward more alien than human-is that good or bad?  6.         My son is an attractive alien-is that good or bad?      7.         Do I love my child enough to live on Khrysos for the remainder of our lives, my life?8.         My sex life has been interrupted by a series of long dry spells.  Puberty---college---Q's death---Galen's birth.  Will I ever have non-alien sex?  Even better question how will a human man compare to Nge?  That's a research questions and a half.  9.         maybe the books are right, having sex just isn't that important (put this one in the I'm lying to myself category)  but I'll leave to live without it10.       While Haruto was here my brain was saying that he'd be a perfect lover but my insides       were saying they were not ready.  Besides the doctors haven't discussed the types of birth control I can use or what additional sexual encounters might mean since my insides are acting younger than their actual biological age (see and internalize #9)

 

Galen makes a single cry and the front of my bra grows wet; he's hungry. 


 

Chapter 27

 

Galen will be fifteen turnings of Khrysos in three Earth months and I'm homesick.    I've lived seven and a half Earth years among familiar strangers, years of coming to terms with who my son is and what I am in relation to him.  Those first years were becoming familiar with the things I guess all new. mothers face, newborn cries with adult groans of frustration, matchless moments of laughter, doctor's visits, diapers and a suitcase of necessary items.  As we grew older together the special events in our lives were the daily then weekly and finally yearly baths that maintained Galen's ever changing systems, and bouts of fear as each day moved us closer to Galen's day of joining when he'd become a member of the Liegelian House of the Fourth Waters and no longer my child.

As the days seemed to pass faster and faster, I decided that before I lose him to his donor's world we'll go home.    Once I made the decision to begin the process it's taken a load of patience, long explanations and longer meetings before Nge's elders and members of the Liegelian and Earth Counsels before my request was agreed to be heard and finally approved.    Two months passed and today we're leaving the Liegelian House for the Excellence.  I dress us hurriedly, my movements jerky, unsteady.   Galen sits on my bed a puzzled look in his reddish-orange eyes.  I know my fear is unfounded.  The Liegelians are one of the few species that demonstrate an inherent integrity.  But still, I fear that we'll get to the Embassy or the shuttle and be refused departure.

 

I pull our one allotted piece of luggage off the bed and sit in its place, close my eyes, take a deep breath and face Galen.  He stares at me his expression calm.  His arms wrapped around the carrier holding his favorites.  "Are you ready?"

 

"Yes.  We're going on a long journey." He answers, repeating the words he's heard for two weeks.   "We're going to your home world, Earth."  Galen is not a touchy, feely child.  His personal bubble is yards larger than my own.  But he crawls into my lap and we sit cheek to cheek.  "It is a good thing."  He says in his quiet way.

 

I carry our bag out to the rotunda to await transport.  On the way, I passed the House's room of waters and wondered if I should let Galen bathe before leaving.  That process has been such an integral part of his growth and will always be a large part of his physical make-up.  I go back inside and he's standing in the middle of our bed, his balance on the moving liquid cushions amazing.  I pick him up and hug him close, tightly, praying that taking him to a planet predominately land and air will not endanger him.

 

 

Chapter  28

Our first stop is the Golden 5 Care Facility, expanded and now operated by the Interspecies Council.  It has become a quasi-Embassy and gathering place for the limited number of species living on this part of Khrysos.  Inside we wait hours more for additional paperwork to be completed and transport to the shuttle.  It's the first time in seven years that I've been surrounded by so many humans.     The Human-Liegelian medical team headed by Dr. Stevenson had become a traveling medical center.  Galen and I would see them every half turning and the fact that Liegelian Houses do not interact with outsiders except for pilgrimages led to even lesser interaction with other humans.  We will be off planet for Galen's second pilgrimage. 

The noise is deafening and the press of bodies and constant movement is making me nauseous.  Galen sits next to me his warm hand rubbing the back of mine clasped tightly in my lap.  I look at him in surprise he's adjusting to this way better than I am.  It takes awhile before I stop jumping at loud sounds and fighting the urge to gag at the mixtures of scents filling the air.  I worry about Galen as we sit in the midst of coughs, sneezes and people reaching out to touch him.  I move us to new seats.  The Father is merciful because we finally board the shuttle and leave Golden 5.

 

A feeling of déjà vu comes to me as we step onto the cavernous deck of the Excellence.  The group greeting us contains only a few familiar faces.  Dr. Hernandez's hug is warm, welcoming.

 

"Greetings, you look well."  I say in formal greeting.

"You also," he says.

Kneeling slightly he holds his hand out to Galen, who looks at him for several moments before shaking his hand.  

"Greetings,"  Galen says his voice small in the large space.  It's tone different than those standing around us.  Maybe my words too sound like a native. 

"Same to you," Dr. Hernandez's replies.  "I'd like to conduct several exams and update your and Galen's chart so we'll have enough baseline data.  Just in case.   Can we take him to the infirmary?"

 

"Ask him. He's Liegelian doctor, he understands way more than his looks indicate."

Dr. Hernandez's okay telegraphed his doubts.  "Will you come with me?"

"Yes."

"Terreece by the time Iroc escorts you to your quarters I should have finished Galen's exams.

 

I smile at Airman Iroc as I take his arm and he picks up our bags.  I point at the trimmed goatee.  "Looks good on you."

"Thank you madam.   The Captain sends his regards.  Once we're underway, he'll be by to visit you and Galen." 

I nod, "tell him it will be good to see him."

 

 

Chapter 29

Galen and I returned from medical a few minutes ago and it's time to "dial-a-dinner."   After our first days on board I decided it would be less stressful if we ate in our quarters.  It's not that the crew or other passengers are disruptive it's that Galen spent more time asking questions and touching things than eating.   I'm deciding with dressing to have with my salad when his hand taps my arm and he says "tag," and it's on.  We're chasing each other or more precisely I'm chasing him when the door announces the Captain.   I bear hug Galen and crabwalk him to the door. 

"Open."  We say at the same time.

Galen is a wiggling mass of child laughter as the door whooshes open.  I stop tickling him as Haruto smiles at us from the doorway.   It's been years since we've seen each other, and in seconds we're practically standing toe to boot.  He leans forward and places a quick kiss on my cheek.

"Greetings," Galen says from where he's trapped between the two of us.  I step back giving adult and child room to meet.

 

"Greetings in return and welcome to the Excellence."  Haruto says as he smiles down at Galen   "Forgive me; we have not been properly introduced."  Haruto nods in my direction.

 

"Galen Dalton, this is Haruto Nakashima, captain of the starship Excellence and my friend.  Captain Nakashima this is my son Galen."

"May I enter?"  Haruto asks as he shakes Galen's hand.

Galen looks up at me and I nod yes, slightly amused by their use of formality and sadden as it reminds me that Galen's days of childhood are quickly ending.

"Yes," I hear him say.

Haruto and I sit across from each other in our usual position of knee to knee a mug of tea clasp in our hands.  Galen sits behind me his feet pressed into my lower back, his concentration on the tablet resting on his lap.

 

"You look well. A few more gray hairs, otherwise time is still standing still for you."

 

"Thank you for noticing.  We expected you last week."

"I would have visited sooner but I let myself get caught up in the usual madness."

"He has grown a lot since our last vid."

 

My senses are filled with the scent of jasmine and mint, Haruto cologne, the keystrokes of Galen's fingers against the tablet, the rumble of the machinery circulating artificial air into the room.  "He had a growth spurt about three months after our last talk.    It was a hard time for him physically."

 

"How is he now?"

"I am well," Galen interjected.

I smile, "He is well."

"How is his mother?"  Haruto asks.

I take a sip of my team," his mother..." I stop remembering Galen is sitting behind me.  Haruto sits patiently as I stare into the brown liquid moving about in my mug wondering if I should send Galen out of the room as my parents would have, while I voice my concerns or let my child hear my fears.  I decide, as I told Dr. Hernandez that Galen can understand much more than his appearance dictates.

"His mother is running away from years spent on Khrysos learning about muscles, ligaments, cell regeneration, cell replenishment, Liegelian laws and customs, and prayer."

I look up to find Haruto staring over my shoulder.  I turn to see Galen slumped down his chin resting against his chest. 

"We explored several new areas of the ship today, must have tired him more than I thought it would.  He's asleep."

"You sound like that's unusual."

"It is.   Liegelians do not sleep as we do they cycle through the sleep cycles faster.   Galen usually catnaps.  I wonder if I should call Dr. Hernandez."

 

I watch him sleep before deciding not to call the doctor.   I put down my cup, stand and hoist my sleeping prince upward.  His head rests against my shoulder.  "Will you stay; I'd like to talk more after I lay him down."

"How can you tell that he's asleep?  His eyes..."

"Practice.  As an infant the layer of membranes making up his eyelids were much thinner and it was harder to judge if he was asleep or recycling the fluids that keep his eyes moist.  Humans' blinks, Liegelians shut their lids allowing the moisture to build to the appropriate level.  As he has grown older the membranes have thickened and I've become more adept at knowing how his body operates."

I start to shift Galen to the other shoulder.  I'm surprise when Haruto stands and motions for me to let him hold Galen.  I hold open the door to the adjourning room.  It's strange to see him in someone else's arms especially a male.  "Put him on the bed next to the wall."

He lays him down and begins to remove his shoes.

"I can..."

"No.  Let me.  It's been years since I've put my nieces and nephews to bed.  I'd like to do this."

I hand him Galen's night clothes and in the quiet I watch him maneuver Galen with an unexpected tenderness.  I realize I'm hovering in the doorway because I'm jealous of every encounter Galen has with someone else, because it's a reminder of how limited our time together is becoming and that I have a difficult decision to make.  I leave the room to make another pot of tea.

In the kitchenette I sit with my back to the door, concentrating on pouring scalding water over the tea leaves while working through my moments of possessiveness.  I feel Haruto next to me and I scoot over so that he can sit.  I hand him a plate of fruit and cheese.  We eat and drink surrounded by the sounds of African drums and Native American flutes.

"Have you ever wanted children?"  I ask suddenly needing to know.

"At times; when dating was fun and the possibility of being captain of a starship like the Excellence was just a plan.  Not often now."

He fills my cup.  "Thank you.  I've missed this."

"The tea," he's asking for clarification.

"Not just the tea."  I smile, deciding to be obtuse for a little longer.  "Though the Liegelian version is more like ten- day-old re-brewed mixture of chicory and vanilla beans."

 

"And the other things you've missed?"

I compare what I remember of the man I met years ago with the one sitting before me.  The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes are more noticeable, the splashes of gray in his hair and the track of veins on the back of his hand, more pronounced.   He's cut his hair.  He's bearing still leans toward military straight thought his shoulders slouch slightly.  He's dressed casually but his clothing covers a body still fit though slight softer, flesher in places.   Years of distance have brought changes to each of us.  The essentials have not changed.  His quiet since of humor, his ability to listen.

"I miss the intimacy.  Touch.  The art of human conversation.  Flirting.  Humor." Haruto smiles at my answer. "The Liegelian are an intriguing species but it's naïve of us humans to believe that a few years of interacting with us would change their basic nature.  They cannot fully understand what is not of Khrysos, they may never.  I don't fault them...I'm just weary of carrying this fear that Galen may never truly integrate into Liegelian society and if he doesn't will we humans accept his differences?"  Tired of sitting I began to pace in the small space.

"I'm being unfair because so far the individuals of Galen's donor's House have treated us respectfully.   With their assistance I've been allowed to attend several of their educational institutions and I have permission to work."

"But," Haruto whispers as he grabs the end of my shirt, pulling me close.  I speak to the top of his head unwilling to look into his eyes.  "I haven't dealt with the idea of living the remainder of my life on a world that may never truly accept who I am."

 

Haruto tugs on my shirt and everything I've tried to be brave about suddenly overwhelming me.  I finally look at him my eyes burning with tears I feel ashamed of and Haruto reminds me of what I once told him I needed, a friend"Hard decisions do not need to be made in the darkness or when the mind is tired.  Rest, think about it tomorrow.  You can make a decision next week or one day soon."

I smile, "yeah."

"See me out."

At the door he stops his hand still grasping my shirt.  "I'll try to check on you and Galen tomorrow.   No promises."

"Okay." 

Before stepping out the door he lets go of my shirt and kisses me on the cheek.

 

 

Chapter 30

I've finished packing.  We're leaving the Excellence in the morning and I put Galen to bed early so that we could remain civil to one another.  He kept asking questions.  They weren't unreasonable questions or foolish questions or the usually out of the blue questions, it was his insistent that the answers be truthful and seem sensible.  It was easy to tell him why Earth's sun was the color melted gold. It was a little harder to tell him why the Earth was made up of more soil than water.  It was fun to tell him about all the places and sites I wanted him to see.  But I had to hedge when he asked when we we're going to return to Khrysos and he immediately zeroed in on the lie.  Because I hadn't made up my mind to return.  The only ties I have to Khrysos are my son and the idea that I can convenience him to live on Earth was growing.  If things go in my favor I kept think he may learn to love the Earth and its people even though I and now he are misfit toys currently fitting in nowhere.

 

 

 

Chapter 31

 

 

 

Galen and I sit side by side, purposefully ignoring the view and each other as the shuttle moves away from the Excellence.  We haven't said much to each other, each wrapped up in our own drama.  I think Galen's slightly peeved at me because of last night and I don't blame him.  He's getting to the age where being made to go to bed is an insult to his impending manhood and he's always hated not being given the information he needs to make decisions.  He's rabid that way.  The landing is uneventful and after getting through customs we're standing like lost lambs in front of a bank of windows at the airport, watching an unbelievable amount of humanity move around us.  They're like the waves of the Liegelian seas, constant movement and for the first time since our journey began Galen plasters himself to my side, his hands gripping the fabric of my skirt as if he's afraid.  Truth be told he isn't alone in feeling uncomfortable.

 

 

 

Chapter 32

 

 

 

I look at our reflections in the aquarium glass as an Albino whale glides past.  The closes aquarium is usually our first stop and one of our favorite places in all the cities we visit.  Galen's second favorite is the zoo and mine is the all-you-can-eat food courts.  Out of the corner of my eye I see a small crowd gathering to Galen's left, so I stand behind him far enough away to allow him breathing space but close enough to interfere should someone want to touch him.  That seems to be the way, people see him as a beautiful oddity; something to be fondled and cooed over.  No one believes that the individual who stands only inches shorter than me with skin the color of dried sunflowers is only eight years old.  Galen has taken to wearing sunglasses as the sunlight causes his eyes to dry out faster than his body can remoisturize them.  So people age him as an adult and it's been a chore getting the more persistent to understand and a couple of times it's taken the help of the local law enforcement to provide the extra dose of understanding.

 

 

 

"Galen it's time to go back to the hotel in order to catch the shuttle for our next destination."

 

 

 

We walk away ignoring the pointed looks and whispers.  Outside while we wait for transport, I hold Galen close my arms wrapped around him like a shield as the world moves around us.  He's had another growth spurt that required a month at the Institute; the only place capable of handling his pain.  We've been on Earth for half a year now and it's time to leave, I'm taking Galen back to Khrysos.  Our time here has convenience me that Earth will not be a suitable home for my son and I cannot live a million light-years away from him.  So we'll return and I'll live the remainder of my life among familiar strangers.  I wrap my arms tighter around him trying to be his shield, letting him be my hope. 

 

 

 

We arrive in Atlanta last night in time to receive medical and custom service approval to leave Earth.  I think I feel regret at leaving but it's not real yet.  But it doesn't matter if or when it becomes reality to me what's important is Galen.  As the old ones use to say about the babies born, "they didn't ask to be here."  It was my choice, my need that brought him to life and it's my responsibility to make sure he's safe and blessed.

 

 

 

Chapter 33

 

 

 

"Mother-Teacher," I look up at Galen, wondering why the formal greeting.

 

 

 

"2nd Pryian, House of the 4th Waters of Khrysos."

 

 

 

"I've been considering our futures."

 

 

 

I put down the book I'm reading.  THIS IS SERIOUS, flashes in neon letters across my inner eye.  I've seen a

 

restlessness growing in him this past year, he's been at my apartment more and more often.  It's as if he wants

 

something from me without knowing how to ask.  He's now a mature Liegelian, able to demand and control his

 

future.  For an agonizing second I think he's going to tell me he has chosen a mate, but I quickly trash that

 

thought, but doing  that doesn't make it untrue, so I decide not to think in that direction.  After his manhood  

 

ceremony I had a selfish wish that he would suddenly be more human than Liegelian but he's not.  As the

 

waters of Khrysos helped give him life and gave me a measure of longevity it has matured my son into what he

 

is a full Liegelian citizen.

 

 

 

I sit up, straighten my shoulders, table my fear.

 

 

 

"Momma." 

 

 

 

I smile relaxing just a little, that's for me I think.

 

 

 

"I will hear your words."   My phrasing an effort to give what's coming the importance he wants it to have.

 

 

 

He nods and sits down next to me.  We stare out the half wall of windows.  My eyes greedily absorbing the

 

small strip of land.  Galen's focus most likely on the blood red waters of his donor's House.

 

 

 

"You are a child of Earth, of sky and soil, and I of Khrysos, water and sky."

 

 

 

"True."  I say in return.

 

 

 

"Since my rebirth, I am able to transverse both worlds."

 

 

 

"Meaning what?"  I feel him stiffen at my parental tone.

 

 

 

"I've decided to join the diplomatic corps of the Liegelian governing body.  Since the pandemic the true people

 

of Khrysos understand the necessity of prevention and the need for contact with other words.  I want to among

 

the first."

 

 

 

I'm surprised but pleased.  "Your donor's House has agreed to this?"

 

 

 

"Yes, with the provision that I return yearly to contribute enough DNA to help with the rebuilding and to one

 

day select a mate."  I can't help looking at him even though the occasion calls for a formal posture.

 

 

 

"Well." Is all that I can say.

 

 

 

Galen takes my hand in his and holds it between his.  "Before I leave for my training, I have a request.  I want

 

you to return home to Earth and perhaps to the Captain."

 

 

 

I try to pull my hand from his but he holds on.  "No disrespect momma but I want you to spend the remainder of

 

your life where I don't' have to worry about you.  Among people who care about you."

 

 

 

"I have friends here."  I blurt out.

 

 

 

He smiles.  "You have long time acquaintances that will be sorry that you have left but they will not grieve your

 

passing and I will not have you die here alone."

 

 

 

He says the last with more force than I expected.

 

 

 

"I need time to think.  When are you leaving?"

 

 

 

He stand and kisses me on the top of my head, "in one cycle.  I'll return before then to help you make

 

arrangements.  I'm sure the Captain would be pleased to have your companionship."

 

 

 

Chapter 34

 

 

 

I sit on the warm soil hands deep beneath the surface.  The strip is bare of the earlier hybrids I'd planted.  After my talk with Galen I'd decided to plant grouping of perennials and trees that will be here long after I'm gone.  Something that will cause others to wonder who had thought plantings from Earth was a good idea.  Khrysos second type of rain begins to fall.  Galen describes it as a movable opaque curtain of liquid that mothers Khrysos and blesses her people.  Sometimes to me it's just more water.  I pick up my tray of seedlings and blubs and walk back to shed.   Instead of going inside my apartment I walk to the back of the section of housing assigned to me.  There is a covered dock build up and out over the waters and I sit on one of the benches.  There surrounded by water and sky I ponder Galen's request.

 

 

 

My son is kicking me out.  Out of his life, off this planet.

 

 

 

Life truly is a circle.   Time passes faster as you age and cram your days with the "important" stuff.  Time passed as I decided to stay on Khrysos because it was best for him.   

 

 

 

When did the roles reverse and the son became the parent?  Ten years by Liegelian standards.   Maybe it happened then when Galen was given his Liegelian name at his manhood ceremony.  Or maybe it happened the day he realized that he was different from the people around him.  Time passed as Galen grew into the being he is now.  Time passed and our roles have changed

 

 

 

Maybe I should leave, many of my peers from the research trials have returned to Earth.  A few stayed just long enough to raise their children and then turned them over to their Liegelian donor and then others like myself decided to try to learn to become a part of this world.  True my friendships with the human women who have chosen to stay on Khrysos and even with several Liegelian women are only layers deep.    Life here hasn't been as difficult as it might have been.   And the need I had to bare a child changed into the need to nurture, protect and guide that child and it has changed again into the need to allow that child be the adult he was meant to be.

 

 

 

 I see bits of me in him, hidden among the Liegelian dominate features. 

 

 

 

Chapter 35

 

 

 

Galen told me to think about his request. If I write it all down maybe I'll make a decision.  Maybe not!  Can I start over againt? Can I live on a starship never have soil beneath my feet? How much living do I have left? Have I learned to live alone? What drives my life now? the focus?   

 

 

 

Good questions.  My reasons for living have shifted so many times.  Once it was growing up, becoming an adult, going to school, having a career, and finding love.  With "Q" I found the type of love I'd dreamed of and then I had to let that go and learn to live after his death.  My focused shifted and I seized the opportunity to have a child by leaving one world for another and now I must change my focus again and learn to live without that child.

 

 

 

I can't sit still and ponder my future anymore or write another should I or shouldn't I.  Besides I have questions that need answer I won't get from praying and meditation.   So I get dress for a night out.  There's not much in the way of entertainment for non-Liegelians but usually there's a few people up, mingling at the Care Facility.  So I walk.

 

 

 

Chapter 36

 

 

 

Galen stands with me.  There's just the two of us.  No other travelers are waiting to leave Khrysos.  No words pass between us, we said our goodbyes weeks earlier and Galen is not one for repeating himself and I don't have the emotional strength to drag out our parting.  I enter the shuttle and find the closes window.  I'm not in my assigned seat but I don't care I need to see him as we move away.  My child, now a man fully his own and my heart hurts because I'm no longer an essential part of his world and because again I'm forced to give up the most important person in my world.

 

 

 

Chapter 37

 

 

 

The computer monitor on Haruto's desk beeps and the mechanical voice trying to sound non-mechanical pronounces, "you have a message from Galen."  I put down the e-read and search for the keypad buried underneath the pile of paperwork and manuals on the desk.  I type in my code and Galen's face appears on the screen.

 

 

 

"Greetings, my mother-teacher."

 

 

 

"Greetings, my son-Galen."  I reply even though the message is days old.

 

 

 

"I just returned to Khrysos and I am pleased to know that you and the Captain will be visiting soon.  I have much I wish to share with you.  May we drink together, soon."

 

 

 

I turn off the unit and walk into the bedroom.  In the dim lighting I look toward the bed, listening for the light snore that tells me Haruto asleep enough for me to turn on the lights without waking him.  Instead of a snore he mumbles several unrecognizable words.  Not deep enough, I think.   As I prepare for bed in the attached bath and decide I'll tell Haruto about Galen's message in the morning, he'll be pleased that Galen mentioned us both.  After Haruto and I connected after my return to Earth, we'd often talk about Galen's place in our lives and our hope for his future. 

 

 

 

I stretch out in the space Haruto has left for me, filling my senses with his warmth and before I sleep I thank the Father and think I did good.

 

 

 

 

 

The end






Chapter End Notes:

I apologize if the formating makes this a hard read.





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