Amina
I hear it, and it’s like hearing English for the first time when you’re in a room full of people who don’t speak English. It’s like a lifeline to the familiar. It’s the moment you’re the only Black girl in a new hire session and you spot that one other ethnic person across the room, and you think, thank god!
It sounds just like a human. The reedy, lamb-like wail. I step away from the desk where Kwarq is talking to the receptionist and follow it, no longer paying attention to the various beings moving around me. The sound gets louder until I discern it’s coming from a small bassinet that’s sitting just inside a room a little ways down the hall. I look around to see if someone will stop me, and then I tip toe through the door to find a Lyqa woman resting in a bed.
She has the tired expression of a woman who has just given birth. Her body is limp against the stacked pillows behind her, and her chest rises and falls in deep, exhausted breaths.
She turns when I enter, and I shrink back at being caught creeping into her room. Before I can duck out, she smiles and waves me in.
“Um, hi.” I wave and she frowns but nods kindly. Maybe she doesn’t speak English. I point to my eyes and then to the bassinet. She smiles and nods again before turning away and letting her eyes drift shut. These people are really trusting. Not only am I stranger, but I’m clearly not from this planet. I could be a baby-snatcher for all she knows, but she’s all, go ahead, have a look.
Still I inch a little closer to the cradle, listening to the familiar sound of a fussing baby coming from within.
Unease constricts my chest as the inhabitant of the bassinet comes into view. I can’t imagine what I’m going to see, but I brace myself for the worst while at the same time telling myself that it can’t be that bad. After all, all babies are cute. Even baby sharks are cute.
Trembling, I finally get close enough to peer over the edge, and I can’t barely stop the smile that pulls at my mouth.
“Awwww!”
It’s just…a baby. I look it over, letting my eyes travel from the downy shock of thick hair to its two wrinkly little feet. If it weren’t for the strange mix-up of features, I would think this was a human baby. Its little legs pump as it continues to grunt out its twitchy displeasure. A small cloth diaper is tucked beneath its belly to allow room for the remaining umbilical cord still attached to the navel. It’s all so normal that I’m overcome with relief. Until this moment, I imagined the thing inside of me to be just that, a thing. Something unfamiliar with the potential to frighten, or worse.
“Look at you. You’re such a cutie.” I cluck my tongue and make kissy faces as I regard the small, wiggling being.
I do notice a few minor differences. For instance, this kid is big. It has the chalky, wrinkly skin of a newborn, but it’s probably the size of a four or five month old human baby. The round little face is scrunched up in anger, and I lean down to coo at him, hoping to soothe him a bit. When I look up, his mother is watching at me with a curious smirk. She says something in her language, and I freeze.
“Uh—“
“Nah’ah lehti, qa’ahni tahl qih’an.”
Kwarq’s deep melodic voice sounds out behind me, and I turn to see him looking down affectionately at me.
“She asked if you were trying to talk to him,” he explains with an amused smile. “I told her this is how one comforts babies in your culture.”
“Oh.” This kid is kicking up a fuss, but his mother doesn’t seem to be in a rush to address it. “Is she just going to let him cry?”
Kwarq shrugs.
“She can sense what is wrong. They have lehti’an, the bond between mother and child. He is fine. Just testing his new state.”
“Oh.” The bond between mother and child.
I look back down at the baby boy, who has quieted now. He’s a soft, sable brown, even though his mother is the palest Lyqa I have seen so far. His jet black hair is straight and plentiful. He looks like a little wookie. When his eyes open and fall on me, I notice that they are bright and—yellow. They shimmer in the dim illumination of the room, and I can’t help but wonder if that’s what Kwarq and my child’s eyes would look like.
“Lehti we are almost out of time.”
I ease away, but take one last lingering look on the little boy before waving to the woman, who regards me with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. She nods back.
I let Kwarq lead me back to the reception desk. When we get there, the woman working the station, maybe she is the Lyqa version of a nurse, smiles and gestures to a machine situated to the right of the desk. It looks almost like the blood pressure machines at the pharmacy I used to play on as a kid when my mother was grocery shopping.
“You must put your hand in, Amina.” Kwarq’s voice is gentle and patient.
I do as he instructs and let my forearm rest in the tube. A bright green light shines over my skin, and I think about the shining little eyes of the baby down the hall. How his tiny fisted hands pushed into the air. How his mother rested easy knowing, instinctively, he was okay. They had the bond between mother and child. I know by now that Kwarq does not speak in metaphor, which means this bond he speaks of is a real, tangible thing. I can’t help but wonder what it’s like. My connection to Kwarq is unreal, and all it does is make our hearts beat together. I can’t imagine what it would be like to be connected on such an profound level with someone I’ve carried in my body. I’m human. Would I even have the bond? This lehti’an. Furthermore, would our baby have its daddy’s eyes?
“Kwarq, if I don’t do this, what will happen?“
I think I see a glimmer of hope on Kwarq’s face before it’s gone just as fleetingly. He reaches out to take my hand and pulls it to his chest where he holds it like it’s his most prized possession. His grip is tender and almost reverent.
“I will care for you until you give birth, and I will love and care for you and our child after.”
It’s said so easily. Like this is the most natural thing in the world. Like three hours ago we weren’t strangers on a train, and a week before that we weren’t strangers in a movie theater. And yet, I believe him, and regardless of how strange and sudden it is, I want this too, just like I wanted him to make love to me a few hours ago. There’s something in my spirit that calls to this Lyqa man, and I can fight it, or I can let someone take care of me for a change. I’m still apprehensive, but I believe Kwarq when he says he’ll make sure I’m okay.
“Do you still want to do it?”
Kwarq’s whispered question break through my thoughts. I look up to find him watching me with fathomless patience and consideration, though there is also something of hope there. He wants this, too. He will support any decision I make, but he wants it. I shake my head.
“I want to keep it.”
Kwarq’s sensual, full mouth breaks into a wide, toothy smile. He brings my hand from his chest to his lips and kisses the back before turning to the woman behind the desk. He rambles off something in his language, his voice excited. I can almost feel the pride coming off of him, and he entwines our hands, binding our solidarity in this moment. The receptionist smiles back, stands away from her desk, and turns to disappear through a door directly behind her. She’s gone for a moment. When she returns, she’s carrying a large, covered basket which she passes off to Kwarq before holding her open palm out to me.
“She needs to see your wristband,” Kwarq supplies when I look questioningly at him.
I hold my arm out, and she runs a short wand over the band before tapping something into the keypad on the desk. Her head jerks in a short nod when she’s finished then she looks up from the screen to me.
“Congratulations.”
“O-Oh,” I stumble, surprised to hear the breathy English word come from her mouth. “Thank you.”
Kwarq executes his own abrupt head nod and says what I am assuming is an appropriate response. He reaches out and lightly grasps the woman’s arm then leads me away with a possessive hand at my back.
&nbs
p; “How does she know English?” I glance up questioningly at Kwarq as we make our way down the hall. I don’t bother to look where I’m going. He pulls me against his side and maneuvers me back to the entrance.
“She is a public servant. She is equipped with a learning implant that allows her to adapt to the language of anyone she may need to assist.”
“Wow.”
That’s pretty cool, and it makes sense. This and the general kindness of the few people I have interacted with only reinforces my impression that Kwarq’s culture is about as polite and accommodating as they come. A learning implant sounds kind of badass.
“Can I get one of those? Is it expensive?”
Kwarq’s mouth twitches in amusement as he glances down to me.
“You do not have to worry about expenses, my lehti. I have said I will take care of you. The implant is somewhat invasive, I would not recommend it, but if you would like to receive a device that will help you with translation, I can arrange it.”
“But is it expensive? If it’s like some crazy luxury, never mind.”
He rolls his eyes. It always looks funny when he does it. Unlike my causal flicker of eye lid, Kwarq’s imitation of my gesture is precise and slow. He’s such an alien.
“It is not a luxury. In fact, I can fit you with one myself later.”
“You can? Is this where you tell me that you’re a linguist/doula/implant specialist?”
Kwarq’s deep, rumbling chuckle vibrates through my body where we touch.
“No, this is when I tell you I am a linguist, which means I deal with languages. You want a language translator. I believe that falls in my realm of expertise.”
I keep forgetting that Kwarq is a real person. He has a profession. He’s kind of legit.
“Oh, right. Well, if it’s not too much trouble.”
“It is not.”
We fall quiet until we’re outside of the hospital, or as Kwarq calls it, the healing center. We loiter a few feet from the doors, and I turn to him, needing to say something. Needing to clarify my earlier misgivings.
“It’s not that I didn’t want this baby. I just wasn’t sure if I was ready. I was scared. I still am,” I admit. He listens patiently, letting me say everything I need to. “Three hours ago, we were sitting in a coffee shop, and now you’re telling me that I’m pregnant, and I just can’t wrap my brain around it, right now. But if this is really happening, if I’m really going to have a baby, I want to try. I mean, I want us to try and figure out how it will work. If it can work. You’re an alien, for goodness sake.” I cover my face with my hands and groan. “I’m sorry I keep saying that. I don’t know what I’m thinking or feeling right now.”
Even though he told me not to be ashamed of my initial decision to terminate—and I really wasn’t, just terrified and confused—I know that it wasn’t what he wanted. I didn’t miss the pleasure on his face after he smelled my conception. He was like a kid on Christmas. And still, he’d been ready to stand by me if it meant I was sure of my decision.
“Thank you for being here for me in all of this. You could have left me back home to deal with it myself. I know this is your whole culture and what makes sense to you, but it has to be hard for you, too. I’m not Lyqa. I’m sure that has to be a little strange.”
“It is not strange,” he replies without hesitation, and the sincerity of it sends a spiral of warmth through my body. “From the moment I saw you, you made complete sense to me. I will never question you, my lehti.” He lifts my hand and places it on his chest where I feel the strong thud of his first heart. “I will never question this. You are my reason for living. Your happiness is more important to me than anything. Even having offspring.”
His words trigger the prickle of tears in my eyes. I observe him—all golden skin and shining yellow eyes—and feel something dangerously close to love. I wonder if that instinct I felt when I first noticed him in the movie theater, that I should know him, be connected to him somehow, was leading to this moment. It seems unreal that in the space of one day, I have found a man who is solely committed to my happiness and have literally started a life with him. It’s almost too good to be true. Optimism makes me want to go all in on this, but a lifetime of cynicism borne from experience has taught me that it’s best to walk into these kinds of situations with my guard up.
We stand quietly for a few more minutes. My hand is still pressed to Kwarq’s chest as he stares at me like I hang the moon. After a while, it gets awkward and I ease my hand away, missing the contact almost immediately. When I tentatively hold my hand out to him, he takes it.
“So what do we do now? Do you still have to take me home right away?”
He shakes his head.
“I told the receptionist that we would need an extension on your stay considering your condition. You have been permitted the equivalent of four Earth months here.”
“Ooh, I have a Lyqa visa. I bet no one else on Earth can say that.”
“With the option for residency should you desire it.”
He says this last part carefully. I nod but put that little tidbit aside for another day. I can’t think about leaving Earth to reside on another planet right now. One thing at a time.
“You can, of course, go home whenever you want in that time,” he adds quickly.
“Okay. So what about now? Do you guys have hotels on this planet? Or do you have an apartment here where we can stay? How does this work?”
For the first time since we’ve been here, Kwarq smiles a real smile that is not tinged with sadness or relief or careful understanding. It’s big and boyish.
“I do not have an apartment. In my culture, we live in extended dwellings with our immediate family.”
“So what does that mean?”
His smile get’s wider.
“I am taking you home.”
Chapter 14
Kwarq
Amina has made me happier than I ever thought I could be. It would have been enough just to have her, but now she has decided to gift me with not only her partnership, but with our children.
I keep to myself the fact that by the time we made it back to the reception desk, it was already too late to perform the procedure within the optimal range of safety. I’d been prepared to petition for an exception. Anything for her until she was ready.
I’m glad I didn’t have to, and it’s what she wants. Watching her with the infant in the healing center warmed my heart to a point where it had been nearly impossible not to toss her over my shoulder and take her some place where I could convince her to give this a chance. However, it is never my intention to force my lehti. I would only have wanted her to come to this decision if that is what she truly wanted.
I now get to take her to my home. I get to introduce her to my family as my lehti and introduce her to the culture that our children will share.
Our children. Over the last twenty minutes, I’ve noticed Amina’s scent changing. The swirling mix that signaled her conception has taken on two distinct smells. This is only a mild surprise. Among my kind, twins will almost always produce twins. My father is also a twin. His twin, my uncle, has twins, my cousins. I’m overjoyed at this realization, but I will wait to tell Amina. She has had enough surprises for the day.
“Where is your home?”
Her small, warm hand grips mine tightly as we walk through the nearly empty streets. It’s considerably late at night. Lyqa days are longer than Earth’s, but most of my people have retired to their homes by now. I’m curious to see how Lyqas will respond to Amina. Not many humans have been to our planet before, but we are an accepting people. I suspect my kinsfolk will be curious about her, but she is in no danger from anyone here.
“It is a short walk. Perhaps about twenty Earth minutes. Is that okay? We can take a transport if you like.”
I know that humans don’t walk as much as Lyqa. Amina doesn’t know it yet, but her body will begin to feel the effects of her pregnancy soon. She will be more tired than usual. Perhaps
she is already feeling exhausted.
“It’s okay, we can walk. Honestly, I’ve been kind of scared to look around. I keep feeling like something crazy is going to happen. Like something is going to try to get me.”
I laugh. She’s so cute. I love that even when she may appear ridiculous, she is honest.
“Nothing crazy will happen to you while I am here. Nothing will get you. We are the dominate species on this planet, as you are on yours. However, my people are warm and kind. We are very in tune to the feelings of others. While we are not perfect, we try not to intentionally hurt one another. It would hurt us more to do so.”
She looks at me sideways, her expression disbelieving.
“I don’t know if the guy on the train back home would believe that.”
Her reminder does not inspire even the least bit of shame in me. “He was trying to harm you. As I have said, my people are kind but not stupid. We do not tolerate the abuse of others, and I will never tolerate anyone attempting to harm you.”
When her small hand squeezes around mine, I look down to see her smiling up at me, though her expression is tinged with that little bit of sadness I have come to expect as the undertone to any happiness she may feel.
“Thank you for protecting me. No one has ever done anything like that before. I don’t think I would ever expect it.”
This pains me. She is so convinced of her vulnerability.
“You can be sure of it now. You do not ever have to doubt your safety. I love you. I will not let anything happen to you.”
She nods and then clears her throat.
“Um, about that. Can you, maybe, kind of, stop saying that?”
Kwarq (Lyqa Planet Lovers Book 1) Page 13
