Discovery (28 page)

Not paying attention, she allowed him to guide her to the medical facilities. A baby. She was pregnant.
Impossible
, her mind screamed, and then on the heels of that, she thought how happy she was. Protectively, wonderingly, she moved her right hand to cover her flat belly again. Questions streaked into her head with all the fury of a meteor shower.

How can being pregnant have made her so sick? So tired? She’d learned women of her race were buoyant, energetic, radiant, even more sexually aware, when pregnant. Only in the last days did any discomfort occur and that was from the impending delivery, the shifting of the baby, the contractions, and the effort of birth.

“Utterly remarkable,” said the physician for the millionth time, guiding her into his examination area. “I think we’ll have to consult the Folonar. The people on the planet below—”

“Humans,” corrected Povre automatically.

“Humans,” tried the doctor without missing a beat, “are supposed to be similar physiologically and it might also hold true for the early part of gestation—”

Oh, Kent!
Povre thought, a keen pain dampening her shifting emotions.
A baby. Your baby. Our baby. If only…No,
she decided.
It’s better he never knows. He can’t know. It would kill him to know and not be able to come.

She laughed aloud.
“Biologically impossible,”
she had told him.

Obviously the Goddess knew better. Only She could have made their genetic material combine. Povre closed her eyes and thanked Her for the precious gift that would fill her empty future: one that would never know another man’s love.

* * * * *

“HOW WILL HYPERSLEEP AFFECT
the child’s development?”

“It’s not advisable that any lifeform enter hypersleep in a gravid condition.”

The Kemmerian captain fluttered her tentacles, agitated. Povre’s pregnancy affected the ship even more than her unusual behavior. They were scheduled to start the return voyage in another five months. Sirgel females normally carry for close to a year. Leaving her and the baby, should it be carried to term and born alive and well, out of hypersleep for some extra months shouldn’t cause a problem. The starship’s crew always rotated sleep-periods on long journeys and at all times at least five essential personnel remained awake.

But what was normal about Povre’s condition? How would the alien’s genetics blend with hers? There was no telling how the pregnancy would progress.

All the physician could interject between his mantra of “Remarkable” was “I really can’t answer that,” to the captain’s and anyone else’s questions. A thorough search of the databases, including consultation with the Folonar, offered no solutions, only hypothesis.

Because something like this had never happened before. Ever.

And her landing party team leader, the steady and reliable H’renzek, was a man devastated. Bad enough his daughter had bonded with the unbreakable permanency of her race, dooming her to incredible loneliness for her lost life mate. Now Povresle carried the human’s child.

“He wanted to come. We should have allowed it.”

“What?” The captain swiveled her eyestalks toward H’renzek.

Raising his shaggy head, which seemed to have silvered more in a matter of days, H’renzek gazed back at her. His eyes were dull and he looked old, so old.

“He’s not dead, like Silpova. He wanted to come. He loves her. She loves him. He deserves to be with his love and with their child. It’s wrong to keep them apart…”

“It’s wrong to take him from his world.”

“Povre needs him,” H’renzek insisted.

“It’s abduction, pure and simple.”

“Hardly. He asked to come. He begged it.”

“His authorities will see it differently.”

“They don’t need to know.”

The captain remained firm. “You think his sudden disappearance will go unremarked?”

H’renzek slumped back in his chair.

“Don’t encourage Povre with such thoughts,” advised the captain. “She’s unsettled as it is. Since she’s found out, her emotions are fluctuating like the energy discharge from a pulsar.”

“It’s my greatest concern at this time,” agreed the physician, who stood at the captain’s side. “Her health is dependent on settling into a definitive regimen, physically and mentally.”

“I won’t have to mention it if he’s changed his mind,” came so softly from H’renzek the captain wasn’t certain if he spoke at all. “And if he’s dead, he wouldn’t be considered abducted.”

The captain left her seat, taking the most direct route between them. She slithered across the conference table, her tentacles trying to find a purchase on the slippery surface. She almost landed in H’renzek’s lap, except she reached for his shoulders and used him instead to brake her momentum.

“What did you say? Dead? Are you insane? What are you proposing?” She tightened her grasp and shook him hard, appalled at her behavior, but needing some way, extreme as it was, to reach the pensive commander.

He raised his head. His face hardened once more into the rugged firmness they all were familiar with.

“I’m
waiting
, Commander H’renzek! If you said what I thought you did…”

“Whatever the consequences to me,” he said, voice and gaze steady, “I propose going to the human’s dwelling place, speaking to him, and arranging his apparent demise so he will be free to join with my daughter and her unborn child. Povre deserves to be happy. Her child deserves a father. I know firsthand what it’s like to raise a child without a mate. Some species do it well. Sirgels do not.” He paused long enough to remove her tentacles from his shoulders and guide her to the empty seat next to him.

“Besides, the man will be a valuable addition to our Affiliation. He is a trained scientist and can add to our own knowledge of his world, give us insights the Folonar can’t. Or won’t. With Povre, he can share familial duties as well as those essential to the advancement of science. Our society is not xenophobic and will accept him without reservation. And unlike Povre, who can’t survive on his world, he can survive wherever we go, since we know the Folonar can, and we have the equipment and technology to adjust whatever is needed.”

The captain couldn’t believe it. Stunned, she sat limply, feeling herself spread a bit more than normal, as if her skin couldn’t contain her gelatinous mass. “We’re not sure of that. It’s a nice theory, H’renzek. But it’s yet to be proven.”

“Then let
him
decide to take the risk or not. Why should we be the ones to make the decision for him? We’ll be in orbit for a while longer.” H’renzek’s words now came firm and fast. “If being among us proves dangerous to his health, his return can be arranged as easily as his removal. Likewise any time in the future, should he have a need or compulsion to return for a short while, or Goddess forbid, something happens to Povre and he wants to return permanently…something can also be arranged.”

“It’s a logical proposition,” piped up the physician. “Two lives may depend on this…this
human’s
presence. And the ship has the capacity—”

“Enough!” cried the captain, firming her form and self-control. “Let me think. There must be another way, perhaps the permanent Folonar living below can—”

“They have already overstepped their own stringent rules of non-interference in assisting Povre’s return and dissuading the investigations,” H’renzek stated. “It would be unwise to involve them again, even if they were willing.”

She eyed the Sirgel. “You’re right, of course.” Here was a man determined. Much better than the front he presented a mere few minutes ago. She could see the energy crackling from him. “I am,” she said, placing just the tip of a now-pink tentacle on his forearm, “also reluctant to risk you, Commander.”

He shrugged. “I’ve given Exploration over five decades of dedicated service, and am near the age to retire. If Povre and I are banned from further service, I would only be too happy to spend it enjoying my grandchild and any others that might result. Who knows, I might even enjoy getting to know the human as well.”

Without another word the captain slid from her chair and left the meeting. She wanted to tell him
yes, go, be successful.
But she wasn’t the captain of an Exploration cruiser for nothing. She had to consider all the aspects and ramifications of H’renzek’s request.

She also had to live with her decision, should it affect the lives of her crew. Individual or otherwise.

She slithered down the corridor, eyestalks drooping. As she brooded over her most current command decision, she stared at the dull gray creeping back into her normally pink tentacles as they undulated along the smooth floor.

* * * * *

KENT ADJUSTED THE COVERING
over his BMW, picked up his grocery sacks, and went inside his house. Comet, the cat, leaped down from the loft with a husky meow and rubbed between his ankles.

“Get lost, cat, you’re going to trip me,” grumbled Kent. “Why didn’t Lynn take you with her?”

Because Jim is allergic to cats, stupid,
he told himself, hitting the light switch with his arm.

Still, Comet was company. The huge tom, weighing close to twenty pounds, had been a part of Kent’s life since he was a kitten no larger than Kent’s hand. He’d always said Comet was Lynn’s cat, but Lynn had presented him with the tiny kitten before their relationship even came to the point of living together.

With an easy leap, the cat jumped to the countertop and began sniffing delicately at Kent’s bags.

“Oh, all right. Stupid fleabag cat.” Kent roughed the tom’s head in affection and produced the bag of pre-cooked shrimp he bought for his dinner. He fished out a palmful and dropped them in Comet’s dish, shells and all. Comet was an expert at getting the tasty morsels from the shells and enjoyed batting the empty ones over the floor. That should keep the feline occupied while Kent put his food away and started cooking dinner.

Later, he plugged in his laptop and checked his e-mail. A note from Michelle, saying hello and she was back in France. A few others came from people he’d kept in touch with over the years, internet acquaintances professional and social he’d never met in person, but considered friends. He frowned, expecting a message from his sister.

“What’s up with her?” he wondered. She never failed to send him a Thursday email. Not unless she was on a difficult case.

Lately their communication, via email at least, had been steady. He’d inserted a big enough hint in that last letter to bring Kelly’s sharp detective qualities to the surface.

Jeez. No return email. No phone call. Good thing he hadn’t used her help as an option to keep Povre hidden. The possibility existed that she was out of the country again on some assignment.

For a moment his guts tensed in worry for her. Then he shrugged and let out a breath. “No sense stressing about Kelly,” he told himself. “If something happened to her, someone would knock on my door to tell me about it no matter where I was. I won’t worry. At least until tomorrow night. I won’t be subtle this time.”

He grinned as he composed a new note, talking aloud as his fingers racing over the keyboard.

“Where the hell are you? You haven’t answered my note in three days. Maybe I’ll send some Federal agents after you—heh, heh. Better yet, I’ll come East and check up on you myself. We have a
lot
to talk about, big sis, not in the least being the subject of my breakup with Lynn. I need to talk about it, okay? Love, Kent.”

His older sister was one tough customer and Kent’s “mother-henning” never failed to bring exasperated amusement to her. He was sure as soon as Kelly saw tonight’s note she’d be on the telephone, no matter what time difference there was between here and Washington, D.C. Kelly knew how to mother-hen too, when she had to.

Then he returned to Michelle’s brief message. Nothing had happened between them. Nothing at all. She kissed him, quite provocatively, after he drove her to her hotel, but he felt nothing. She might’ve been his sister. He sensed her faint disappointment, but she’d only smiled and said it was nice to have met him, again wishing him the best.

She understood. He wished her the best, too. Her and the others.

He ate his dinner without tasting it, and took a bottle of his favorite microbrew onto the deck in back.

Summer was in the air. It came early and lasted long in the Willamette Valley. Long and dry, the opposite of the winter season.

He gazed at the stars and thought of Povre.

Over the past several weeks he’d had a lot of time to think. He’d distilled an entire beaker of turbulent questions down to two short ones. Had he fallen so fast and hard for Povre because she was different and unique? Something so opposite of Lynn that he transferred his wounded and needy ego and emotions to take what she so willingly offered?

He’d soul-searched his response. He’d tried out several, in scientific fashion, covering every approach. There was only one answer, one solution, every time.

No. He loved Povre. For herself.

He doubted very much he’d ever get over it, no matter what Michelle Landreau had told him about time and getting on with his life. Povre’s memory would never be bittersweet. It would always hurt like a knife wound.