Shalia's Diary #7

by Tracy St. John

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

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

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

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

  Later this afternoon, I talked again with Clan Seot. Once again, we lost track of time. I swear that if I hadn’t arranged to talk to the Dads at a certain hour, I might have been talking to that clan until going out of communications range cut us off.

  While things with Clan Aslada are moving along at a slow simmer, I am close to boiling with Clan Seot. I don’t know; maybe things are going too fast with Seot, Cifa, and Larten. But they are so easy to talk to and joke with! Is it possible to feel the connection I do so soon? I don’t know. I’ll need to put the brakes on things a little once I get to Kalquor ... I can’t jump headlong into a full-blown relationship with my first option. I do have to weigh more of my choices. Common sense says to not limit myself even to the two clans I like so much. I should check out at least five clans, right? Five seems like a good logical number.

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

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

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

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

  “Especially one that was a choice,” Cifa added. “How wonderful is it that they wanted you to be their daughter and you wanted them for fathers? I cannot imagine a more precious gift.”

  It was impossible for me to rush saying goodbye, but Seot – the ever-leading Dramok – made our parting caring but quick. “One final word before we’re back to speaking every few days,” he instructed his clanmates.

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

  When they disappeared from my com vid, I almost cried. I am going to miss talking to them.

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

  Anrel was awake and to judge from the chirpy noises she made, in a good mood. I wasted no time in comming the Dads. They were in front of me in an instant.

  “Sorry, I know I’m late,” I rushed to say.

  “Only by a couple of minutes, my daughter,” Bitev said, his smile warming his face. “Is everything all right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  The rest of our conversation was nothing of note. It was nice to just sit there and make small talk with my dads. Anrel’s every move and sound was cause for comment. The Dads caught me up on their Matara’s news ... there wasn’t much. Joelle is having a much calmer trip to Kalquor than I am. I made a mental note to com her soon.

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

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

  I got the final rounds of well-wishes and remonstrations to take care of myself. Loads of love was spoken to Anrel. Even Rak blew her noisy kisses, ignoring any ideas of looking less of a warrior-bent Nobek. Nayun and I called out ‘I love you’ over and over until the transmission failed for the last time.

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

  July 21

  It’s been a few days since we left the wormholes. Everyone I talk to is moody as hell these days. It’s like the first week at work after being on vacation. Actually, it’s worse. We’re fresh into missing loved ones again and feeling like time stretches into forever before we ca
n get together with new friends.

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

  Of course the gang is rallying around my little girl. Every chance they get, Candy, Katrina, Oses, and Betra are in Medical to check up on Anrel and sit with me. Things are a little strained yet with Betra as he and I try to keep our exchanges pleasant and yet distant. I am grateful that he’s still devoted to Anrel. That has not changed for one second. It hurts my heart to catch him looking at me with sad want every now and then ... but there is nothing I can come up with to say to him to make things better.

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

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

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

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

  It’s one of the most hilarious things I’ve ever seen, but I don’t dare laugh at Siko or protest the profanity. He might get mad at me.

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

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

  July 22

  We now know why Anrel is sleeping so much and not eating. My baby is ill. I am wrecked over it.

  Tep’s in-depth tests uncovered a problem with one of her heart valves. It’s not working properly, occasionally impeding blood flow. It leaves her exhausted and weak. Because she sleeps so much of the time, her metabolism is slowing and she doesn’t want food so much. But without eating like she should, her metabolism slows even more, creating something of a vicious circle. Her poor little body isn’t getting nutrients it needs, weakening it further.

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

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

  “I’ve got several medications I can try to treat the problem and keep her comfortable. We’ll also get her the nutrition she needs through intravenous infusions. It looks to me like it’s a developmental issue, something that might correct itself if given time.”

  “And if it doesn’t?” I didn’t want the bad news sugarcoated. I needed to know what my daughter is up against, even if there isn’t a damned thing I can do about it.

  “Surgical correction may be called for. I see that as a last resort option, however.” Tep grimaced. “At the very least, she needs time to get stronger in case that becomes necessary.”

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

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

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

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

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

  July 23

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  I shook my head. “You care. Maybe more than you should, but it’s still nothing to apologize for. I’m just sorry I’m the cause for you being upset.”

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

  “I don’t even know that Seot’s bunch will be my clan,” I pointed out. “If you think about it, there’s nothing to be jealous about yet.”

  “That’s what I’ve been telling myself these last few days. My damned heart doesn’t want to hear it though.”

  I was worried he was about to tell me we were done for good. Yet I just couldn’t bear not knowing what was going on ... it’s worse than wondering. “So where do we stand?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “I’m going to stop being a jerk and thinking only about myself. Anrel is having difficulties. She needs me. You need me, and that’s more important than anything else. I am here and I will stay here for the two of you until you either kick my ass out or we reach Kalquor.”