by S. H. Jucha
“How do we unwind those tails?” Pia asked, concerned that nothing she’d brought could do it gently enough to prevent damaging the appendage.
“Scanner, lower right abdomen,” directed Miranda, rolling up her right sleeve. She pulled a sterile glove from a pack and slipped it on up to her elbow. She created a pinprick-sized hole in the index fingertip of the glove and sprayed an antiseptic sealant over the opening. Then she stretched out on the pallet between Nyslara’s legs.
“Wait,” Pia said and grabbed a gel lubricant from the pack, spraying the material over Miranda’s glove. Then she knelt and positioned the scanner where Miranda requested it.
The SADE slid her hand up and into the womb. She concurred with Pia. There was no way to unwind those delicate tails from around the siblings’ limbs without damaging them, but there was always encouragement.
Miranda went after the mewling closest to the womb’s exit. Following the scanner’s image, she traced the tail that was wound around the mewling’s limb. It led to the female, and Miranda poised her index finger over the female’s rear, shifted algorithms to reverse the electrical signal, which normally flowed from synth-skin sensors to kernel, and delivered the tiniest of shocks to the female’s buttock. The tail uncurled from her sibling and sought the new attacker.
Quickly, Miranda placed her hand over the head of the freed mewling and pulled him downward. Then she repeated her action on a male mewling, whose tail was wrapped around another of her target’s limbs. Once freed, she guided the mewling out of the womb, through the birth canal, and into the light.
A female Dischnya hissed her pleasure and dropped to her knees beside Miranda. She trapped the mewling’s arms against its body with both hands and snapped through the umbilical cord with her sharp teeth. The second female in line bound the cord with a piece of thin animal hide.
The first female’s long tongue licked the mucus from the mewling’s face, causing it to suck in air, cry loudly, and then snap repeatedly at the air. The female held the mewling firmly, while she continued to lick it clean. When the mewling calmed and began to whimper and cry, the female brought the tiny male to her breast to feed. Then, without a word, she exited the room.
A female Dischnya, discerning the bewilderment on the aliens’ faces, said, “Eldest of us gets the first male. She will raise it as her own. It’s a great honor to care for the queen’s male offspring.”
“But there’s three of you and only two males left,” Renée said apologetically.
“I’m here,” the youngest female said, “to gift the queen’s heir to the creatures of the plains, if you don’t succeed.”
“Let’s keep going,” Miranda said, diving back into position. “Left side of the abdomen, Pia.”
Now that Pia realized Miranda’s plan, she located the male mewling in the scanner and traced the single tail holding it to its nearby brother.
“Excellent,” Miranda intoned and touched a buttock. It took her some effort to reverse that mewling’s position. It was feet down in the womb. In the meantime, its sibling’s tail tried to wrap again and again around its brother. Eventually, Miranda successfully removed the second male, and a Dischnya female chuffed, as she gripped the mewling, cleanly cut the cord, and licked the male. The third female tied the cord off, and the moment the mewling nursed, the second female hurried from the room.
The two remaining Dischnya kept their eyes focused on the reader’s small display, fascinated by the procedures, and they whispered continuously between them.
Miranda easily extracted the third male with a couple of judicial touches of current to tiny hips, and the mewling was delivered to the third waiting Dischnya.
“Wait,” Cysmana said urgently, startling Renée and Pia, who hadn’t heard her enter the sleeping quarters. “You must first wake the queen. Only she touches the heir. Your scent will confuse the mewling.”
Pia looked questioningly at Miranda, who said, “The queen might be dilated, but I haven’t felt contractions since I’ve been in the womb. If we wake Nyslara, she still might have difficulty birthing the female, and we’ll have one distraught queen on our hands.”
When Cysmana saw that her warning wasn’t heeded, she moved to intercede, but the last Dischnya female, who had been observing the proceedings, blocked her way. “Sister, we should hear Dassata’s soma. They understand many things we do not. Did not queens travel to Sawa with Dassata and return without harm to their nests?”
Cysmana briefly acquiesced, and Renée stood to face Cysmana, adopting a nonaggressive pose. She indicated Miranda and said, “Dassata’s metal soma. No scent. Do you understand? No scent.” She must have gotten through to the upset Cysmana, because the attendant nodded and back off.
“Let’s do this together, dear ones,” Miranda said. “Pia, please hand Renée the cold laser to cut the cord. I’ll pull the female out and hold the mewling in front of Nyslara’s face. Then you reach from behind me and snatch your device from her temple. Please stay behind me. My body is your shield.” After the preparations were complete, Miranda looked at her compatriots’ faces, and asked, “Ready?”
Pia positioned the scanner, and Miranda reached into the womb to grasp the female by the neck and shoulders. The mewling’s tail found Miranda’s wrist and wrapped tightly around it. The SADE turned the female and pulled her toward the womb’s exit. She released her grip to touch a flank and free her wrist. Then she gently gripped the head and pulled the mewling out.
Renée sliced through the umbilical cord, tied it off, and Miranda crawled quickly to position the mewling in front of Nyslara. Pia leaned around the SADE and pulled her device from the queen’s temple. Reflexively, Nyslara’s tail swung high overhead to strike, but the female mewling’s wail prevented the powerful tail from slashing down on those who surrounded her with foreign scents. Instead, the tail’s dexterous tip coiled around the mewling, and, simultaneously, Miranda released her grip.
Nyslara returned to full consciousness, expecting another onslaught of pain, only to be greeted by the cries of her heir and a feeling of great emptiness in her belly. She lapped gratefully at the tiny female, held firmly by her tail, and continued to clean and caress the mewling until her scent penetrated its primitive mind. When the little heir mewed and cried for attention, Nyslara swung the female to her chest, and the heir latched onto a nipple, sucking greedily.
Her vision clear and the pain receding, Nyslara focused on who attended her. “Ené,” she said, recognizing Dassata’s partner.
“All four of your mewlings live,” Renée said, smiling, and Nyslara weakly bared her teeth in reply.
“My queen,” Cysmana said, stepping forward. “It was the Dassata’s soma who saved the heir and her siblings.”
“Of course, they did, Cysmana,” Nyslara replied, yawning. “If they can keep Dassata from death’s blackness, despite two wounds to head and chest, they can deal with a difficult birth. How did you know to come, Ené?”
“We didn’t,” Renée replied. “Pussiro called us.”
“My mate is braver or more foolish than ever I thought, if he allowed strangers near me at the birthing moment.”
“I think brave, dear one,” Miranda said.
“And I would agree,” Nyslara replied. “Should I know these soma?” Nyslara asked Renée, indicating an introduction was necessary. She saw Miranda pull off a soiled glove and could guess where it had been.
“This is Miranda and Pia,” Renée replied, indicating each one in turn. “They’re the ones responsible for saving the life of my partner.”
“Talented females,” Nyslara replied, yawning a second time.
“My queen should rest,” Cysmana said, and indicated the curtained doorway to the guests. The four females filed out, while Cysmana began cleaning the queen and the pallet.
“Does Nyslara live, Ené?” Pussiro asked anxiously.
“She and the heir are fine, Pussiro,” Renée replied.
The commander was overcome with relief, and he sank to hi
s knees, placing his forehead at Renée’s feet.
“No, Pussiro, rise up,” Renée urged. When Pussiro stood again, she gripped his upper arms, feeling the hard, stringy muscles underneath the layer of fur. “This is what friends do for one another. They help in times of need.”
“It’s a blade in my heart, Ené, that our initial actions caused the death of two of your soma. Yet, when we needed your help, you saved the life of my queen, the heir, and the future of our nest.”
“Beginnings are often difficult,” Alex said. “It’s the steps that we take afterwards that are important.”
Pussiro nodded gratefully and slipped quietly into Nyslara’s sleeping quarters.
“I’m proud of the three of you,” Alex said slipping his arm around Renée’s shoulders. “Your first alien birth, make that births, and you were utterly exceptional!”
“Dassata,” the female Dischnya who remained behind said. She’d stood quietly in the corner, waiting for an opportunity to speak. “I’m called Nafalla and would ask to be heard.”
“Feel free to speak, Nafalla,” Alex replied.
“Could a Dischnya female learn the ways of what Ené and her soma did for our queen?”
“It’s possible to learn, Nafalla, but there is much to learn, and it would take time.”
“Would Dassata’s soma be willing to teach the Dischnya?”
“Yes,” Miranda and Pia declared together, and Nafalla dipped her muzzle in acknowledgment.
“I’ll leave it in your capable hands, people. Nafalla, they’ll inform you when the school is ready.”
“School?” Nafalla queried.
“A place of learning,” Alex replied.
Nafalla nodded and quickly exited the room. Everyone relaxed, basking in the pleasure of success. The women chatted, discussing the intricate tapestries adorning the walls and the colorful fresco painted on the ceiling until Alex interrupted their conversation. “The nest will be waking soon. I suggest we make a quiet exit.”
The twins took up their previous positions, fore and aft of the group, and with everyone’s apps having tracked the way to the queen’s chambers, it was easy for them to find their way out. Warriors stood aside at their approach, and an occasional “Dassata” or “Ené” was heard as they passed.
“One of these days, I would like to hear my name spoken like that, as I walked by,” Pia complained.
Suddenly, everyone was saying Pia’s name in a hushed tone, imitating a Dischnya accent.
“Fine,” Pia grumped, after the snickering quieted. “Remind me to keep my thoughts to myself next time.”
The group gained the lookout’s room without incident. The same grizzled warrior was on duty when Pussiro had rushed past and called for help for their queen. When Dassata’s soma filed passed, his eyes beseeched them for news.
Renée briefly touched the warrior’s arm in passing. “The queen and heir live. They’re healthy.”
The warrior chuffed, and his face lit in pleasure. “Ené,” he said humbly.
“See, that’s how you’re supposed to say my name,” Pia grumbled to her group, as they exited the lookout post, and her people chuckled.
* * *
In the early morning, several days later, Renée turned around in the refresher, enjoying the soothing mist. The day promised to be another full one. Ophelia and she would be supporting the crew shift changes between the Freedom and Our People.
Soon after the arrival of the Our People, the two women had toured the second city-ship with an eye to determining the possibility of upgrading its facilities to permanently host the Haraken workers. But, within two hours, they were back aboard their traveler and returning to the Freedom.
As Ophelia summed it up, “We had better accommodations the first year we were marooned on Daelon.”
Last evening, Renée and Ophelia entertained themselves with a vid from the Rêveur’s library. It featured the ancient Greeks of Earth and was full of gods and monsters. The women laughed and applauded the introduction of each fantastical figure.
“How little the ancients understood what truly awaited humans out here among the stars,” Ophelia had commented.
Renée was captivated by the Greek’s imaging of the star constellations by tracing their outlines and overlapping mythical figures and creatures to capture the formation. The incredible images floated in Renée’s implant, while she luxuriated in the refresher, and her mind made a connection. She hurriedly signaled the refresher off, grabbed a towel, and wasted little time drying before she leapt on the bed.
Alex was jostled awake, and he stared bleary eyed at Renée, who was kneeling by his side, her hair moist from the refresher. Her face radiated anxiousness, so Alex struggled to kick his brain into gear despite the lack of sleep.
“Alex, look at these,” Renée begged, and Alex received a bunch of strange creatures and figures. “These images were in a vid Ophelia and I watched last night.
“Interesting,” Alex commented, unsure why he should be interested in them.
“The ancient people wove their stories of the world’s beginning in the stars’ constellations and memorialized them with a figure of a god or creature.”
“Fascinating,” Alex commented drily.
“Wake up, Alex,” Renée said, delivering a sharp, light slap to his bare arm.
“I’m awake,” Alex objected.
“Look at the points connecting the lines in the drawings.”
“I’m looking. The figures barely encompass the points and lines. I guess the stories helped people, such as seafaring sailors, remember the stars.”
“Oh, Alex, you should read and watch more of the stories and vids in your own library. This is the way ancient people thought … our people … millenniums before our colony ships left Earth.”
“Understood, my love,” Alex said earnestly, trying to placate Renée. “I hear you, but I don’t understand you.”
“Alex, do you see any similarity between these ancient images and the tapestry of the strange creature, the one in tan and brown on Nyslara’s wall? The head resembled a feedwa, but the body appeared to be a concoction of other creatures. But I want you to focus on the blue orb in its mouth.”
Alex pulled the image of the tapestry from his implant database. It was a unique work of art, and he had recorded it, along with several other images, from Nyslara’s front salon. “Am I supposed to see some polygons, connecting stars, in the tapestry?” Alex asked.
“You would, if it was created by our people, but this was a Dischnya artist.”
“Why don’t you tell me what you think you’ve discovered?”
“I would if the connection was blatant, but it’s subtle and I’m wondering if I’m just imagining it.”
Alex sat up, propped pillows behind him, and drew Renée close. Her wet hair was cool against the heat of his chest muscles. He dropped his stored tapestry image into an implant app. It was an analysis tool that he had used many times. The app was able to detect anomalies. However, most of its return on this image would be due to the fact that the tapestry wasn’t a digital creation and contained natural imperfections.
After the app ran, the third item on the analysis list caught Alex’s his eye. It detailed color oddities, and he pulled up the data. It labeled the coordinates of small amounts of blue, which was surprising because the entire tapestry appeared to be done in creams, tans, browns, and touches of black, except for the multi-hued blue orb.
Alex selected the first set of coordinates outside of the orb and found a tiny blue dot placed by the artist along the creature’s neck, buried in the furred mane. He selected other coordinates and found that they were the same blue and the same size as the one on the neck. The dots, hardly visible to the naked eye, were located along the creature’s curved back, claws, limb joints, and face. There was no doubt in Alex’s mind of the artist’s intention to use the creature as a representation of something else.
Using the imaging app, Alex selected the dots similar to the orb
and signaled the dropout of the remainder of the tapestry. He stared at the remaining collection of dots, and his heart skipped a beat.
Renée felt the reflexive jerk of Alex’s muscles, and she sat up to watch his face.
Alex recalled the Sawa stone image, stored in his implant, and overlaid the two images. He resized the tapestry’s dots and rotated them over the stone’s image. He did get a match of sorts. The problem was that the stone had many more dots than the tapestry, but there was a definite alignment of many points between the two images.
It took Julien mere ticks to reply.
Alex watched the entire process via his implant, as Julien whirled the planets’ present positions backwards in time around Celus until the overlay had alignment with the stone’s red dots.
