Birth of the Alliance

by Alex Albrinck

  The nurses left. A few moments later, a man wearing a doctor's coat walked in, introducing himself as an intern. The man told Richard and Rosemary that the hospital was part of a group of innovative institutions testing a new technique which allowed them to identify numerous disease markers. They were offering the service free of charge to all mothers- and fathers-to-be. It was a simple blood test. Richard and Rosemary communicated with no more than a glance, and moments later both had provided blood samples for the test. The intern thanked them, capped the samples, and walked out of the room.

  The doctor walked in moments later, holding Rosemary’s chart, a frown upon her face. She glanced up at them. "Mr. and Mrs. Stark, you’ve refused to hear the results of any tests conducted during Rosemary’s prenatal care, correct?”

  The couple both nodded, beaming brightly. “We know what we're having,” Rosemary stated. Her voice was firm, emphatic. “There was simply no point.”

  “I admire your faith in your own judgment,” the doctor replied crisply. “But I must warn you that there is a significant chance that this delivery will result in a C-section.”

  Rosemary’s face fell. That was not part of the plan. “I… I don’t understand. How is that possible?”

  Richard glared at the doctor. “Why wasn’t this mentioned previously?”

  “The results of the ultrasound tests hinted strongly at this probability. If you’ll recall, all of the doctors in my practice repeatedly requested that we spend the time to discuss the test results, and you refused each time. We were told, in no uncertain terms, that you had no interest in hearing any information related to what we learned. However, you no longer have that option, because we are at delivery day. I am telling you now: you are very likely to deliver successfully only via a C-section.”

  “No,” whispered Rosemary. “That… that can’t be right. This… this can’t be happening.”

  “I’m afraid it is.” The doctor's voice was professional, calm. She was not enjoying delivering the message any more than the couple was enjoying receiving it. “We can begin with the C-section. Or we can try to avoid it. If you choose the latter option, I reserve the right to order the emergency C-section if and when I deem it a medical necessity.”

  “I don’t want to be cut open,” Rosemary whispered, tears streaking her face. "Just… just give me my baby girl, healthy and happy.”

  The doctor's face hardened and her eyes narrowed. “Right. I’ll assemble the team and we’ll begin the delivery momentarily.”

  Hours later, Rosemary was exhausted, Richard was beside himself with worry, and the doctor and attending nurses were whispering among themselves. “I’m sorry,” the doctor told them. “It’s simply not going to happen this way.” She turned to the head nurse. “Alert them to prep the room for surgery.”

  Rosemary was too tired to argue. Richard was too emotionally drained to notice what they’d said. He instead stared at his wife’s face, streaked with sweat and tears, her eyes closed as if in a deep sleep already.

  They wheeled her down the hall toward the surgery room. Richard never left Rosemary’s side. He held her hand while they raised the surgical curtain. A nurse fitted the hairnet on his head, helped him into latex gloves after forcing him to wash his hands vigorously. He was at her side moments later, wondering what part of their plan this experience represented.

  The process seemed to take hours. Doctors and nurses bustled in and out of the surgical room, their movements a dance Richard didn’t understand. The anesthesiologist checked Rosemary’s drips, pronounced everything sound, and left. The intern returned to act as an observer, learning how to handle such a situation in his own career, but would also fetch supplies, often bringing them even before they were requested. The obstetrician watched it all with a detached calm, her face never changing from the slight agitated frown they’d seen since she’d first entered Rosemary’s room. Richard started to wonder, for the first time, what she wasn’t telling them. What they’d foolishly insisted she not tell them. This entire process couldn’t be normal, couldn’t be what you went through to get your baby girl into the world so you could take her home and continue with your life’s plan. It had been so much simpler with Seth, almost like a vacation, save for the part where Rosemary had to push and cry and scream. They’d both forgotten that part until now; now, it seemed an almost heaven-like experience by comparison.

  The doctor scrubbed her hands down and went behind the surgical curtain. Richard watched her as he continued to hold his wife’s hand. Her eyes never changed their emotional timbre.

  They heard a great deal of conversation, and, Richard thought, voices filled with shock and disbelief. What were they seeing that was triggering that type of reaction? He longed to know, to go see for himself. The realization that to do so would mean leaving Rosemary’s side, and would mean he’d need to view the inside of her abdominal cavity, held him back. The waiting, the beeping of the heartbeat monitor, the smells of antiseptics and sweat, were too much for him to bear.

  Fifteen minutes later, they heard the sound of a baby crying.

  Richard and Rosemary looked at each other and tears filled their eyes. After all of the effort, all of the struggle, all of the chaos they’d been through, that sound filled their hearts with joy. It was the sound that had thrilled parents throughout human history with a joy beyond explanation, a sound that spoke to a limitless future, to the idea that the human race would now continue beyond their mortal lives.

  The obstetrician carried the baby to them a moment later. The infant was wrapped in blankets, cleaned of the gooey mess covering all newborns. They could see Rosemary’s green eyes and Richard’s jet black hair peeking out from under the hat placed on the baby’s head.

  “Say hello to your son.” The doctor placed the baby in his mother’s arms.

  They felt as if the wind had been knocked from their lungs. Their son? How could that be? “What do you mean? We just had a baby girl!” Rosemary protested. “We already have a son!”

  The doctor fixed her with a steady gaze. “The gender of your older child has no bearing on that of his younger siblings. We do not get to choose. The choice is made for us.”

  “But I was so certain… I knew in my heart I was… was having a girl. I felt so different than last time.” Rosemary was sobbing, unable to hear the cries of the infant in her arms, seeking his mother's comfort in his first moments in the outside world.

  The doctor fixed her with a piercing gaze. “You were going to have a girl. And a boy. Your daughter didn’t survive. She was stillborn, likely dead for weeks. She was still inside you. That’s why the birth was so difficult. She grew large enough to impede access to the birth canal. And yet…” She paused, her face of detached calm morphing to show a different emotion.

  Wonder.

  “What is it?” Even in her distraught state, Rosemary still wanted to know what it was that had so moved the seemingly emotionless obstetrician.

  “Your daughter was positioned to be born first. For whatever reason, her body would not position head-first or even breach, but sideways. That was our cause for our concern, the reason for our prediction of a C-section. Her body would not position itself correctly. With two babies, manually positioning her to emerge through the birth canal would have been nearly impossible. And then…” She shook her head. “Your son… somehow, as if he knew the danger, managed to maneuver himself around his sister. By the time we were in final discussions to perform the C-section, he had positioned himself to emerge through the birth canal. But then… he got stuck.”

  “What?” Rosemary found the story improbable, yet fascinating.

  “He was stuck because he wouldn’t leave her behind.”

  “Who?”

  “Your son. He wouldn’t leave his sister behind. It was as if he was trying to will her to be born, to come with him… and when she still didn’t move… he grabbed her arm, as if he meant to pull her out with him.”

  "That’s… impossible.” Richard seemed
to finally wake from his daze.

  “I would have thought so as well until I saw it with my own eyes. That little baby boy tried to save his sister’s life, tried to will her back from the dead, even when she was beyond our ability to save.” She shook her head. “It’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. I dare say your son will accomplish great things.”

  “Great things?” Rosemary whispered. “This child is here at the expense of his sister, the child we wanted. How can you expect great things from a child who only lives because another died?”

  “Your daughter died due to the incomplete formation of her lungs, something we detected as likely two months ago during a routine visit, but which you refused to hear about. While it is unlikely that we could have done anything to save her from a congenital issue, you would have understood that her stillbirth had nothing to do with her twin.”

  “It should have been him,” Richard hissed, glaring at the newborn in his wife’s arms. The baby was rooting, hungry, seeking nourishment, his coos and squeaks drawing tender smiles from the hospital staff.

  But his mother ignored him. “Let me see her.”

  “Mrs. Stark, I really don't think—”

  “Let me see my baby!” Rosemary shrieked.

  The obstetrician studied the new mother, turned, and walked back behind the curtain. She returned with a second bundle, one that seemed much smaller due to the lack of movement generated from within. There were no tears, no cries, no coos. There was no sound of a newborn rooting around seeking nourishment. That need had passed; the child had no further need of food.

  Rosemary reached for the dead child, seeming to forget the living one she’d held without interest. The intern sprang forward, catching the newborn boy before he hit the floor. The boy cried.

  “Quiet,” Richard hissed at his son, staring at the features of the daughter he’d now never truly know. “No one wants to hear you.”

  “I think he wants to say his goodbyes to his sister,” the intern said.

  “I really don’t care what he—" Rosemary stopped speaking, as the intern had leaned in close, holding the boy close to the still and silent girl, and his crying stopped. A tiny, tentative arm stretched out, miniscule fingers reaching, until they touched the cold, motionless cheek. The boy’s sobs had stopped, his eyes remained closed, but new tears slid from behind the closed lids. Every voice in the room had gone as quiet as death itself, watching the amazing display, the living twin saying his silent farewell to his fallen sister.

  “We should probably switch,” the intern said. His voice was quiet, gentle, full of compassion.

  Rosemary stroked the cold cheek of her daughter one last time. Then she nodded. Her face turned cold as her daughter’s face when the girl was replaced with her brother.

  “We do need a name for him,” the attending nurse said.

  “I don’t have a name picked out for a boy,” Rosemary snapped.

  “Must we pick a name?” Richard asked. It was if the man had decided that if they did not name the boy, the sister would replace him at their home.

  “Yes, you must do so before you leave,” a nurse replied. “Your doctor mentioned earlier that the boy showed a tremendous will to live, himself, and to save his sister, even when she was beyond help. Perhaps you should name him Will for that reason.”

  “Perhaps we should,” Richard agreed. “I have no better ideas, and no interest right now in spending the time needed to come up with an alternative.”

  Rosemary nodded. “Then his name is Will.”

  A nurse stepped over and offered to take Will from his mother, who happily passed the bundled child away. The nurse cradled the infant, bouncing him, and then fed him a small amount of formula. The boy finally fell asleep, and the nurse placed the newborn in the bassinet. They wheeled Rosemary back to her normal room after her stitches were in place, with the bassinet leading the way down the hall. Hospital staff saw the healthy, sleeping baby boy with the tufts of black hair sticking out from under the hat placed on his head for warmth, and smiled at the contentedness only a sleeping newborn can display. They then saw the vacant, empty expressions on the faces of his parents, and the looks of joyful wonder on the faces of the nurses and doctors pushing the mother and child through the hall, and felt confusion. They whispered among themselves, trying to figure out what had happened to create such a mixed display of emotions.

  The attending doctors and nurses whispered among themselves outside the Starks’ room. The bizarre behavior of the new parents was of the utmost concern. Was the life of the newborn in danger from parents who clearly only wanted a baby girl? Would they take their mad belief that they were destined to bring a baby girl—and only a baby girl—home from the hospital to such an extreme conclusion?

  The quiet decision was made. They would double the frequency of visits to the room to ensure neither Rosemary nor Richard harmed the little boy. And they’d keep Will away from his mother, in the nursery where he’d be around people who, if they didn’t specifically know him, at least did not despise him for a crime he’d never committed.

  After the decision was made, the Starks’ room gradually cleared out and became part of the hospital’s normal routine. The heartbeat monitor was unplugged and moved away. Doctors and nurses brought Rosemary medication to help manage the post-surgery pain and to check that her stitches were sound.

  The extreme quiet eventually led Richard to fall asleep in a chair. Rosemary cried herself to sleep. Will slept soundly in the bassinet after a feeding and diaper changed, both provided by the nursing staff.

  The intern reappeared in the room, his arrival so sudden that it was as if he’d appeared out of thin air. The man paid no heed to Richard and Rosemary, as if he knew both new parents were sound asleep and were at no risk of waking while he was there. Instead, he moved straight to the sleeping child.

  “I had no idea it was like this for you, Will,” the intern whispered. “I had no idea your twin died before she was ever born. I doubt you ever knew the truth. You only knew that there was some reason your parents withheld love and affection from you, something that drove them to blame you for some unknown crime. I can’t fix that. But I have a gift for you for the future, one I hope you’re able to use one day.” He reached into his deep doctor’s coat pockets, his fingers brushing the tubes with the blood of Richard and Rosemary Stark. He glanced down at his other hand, where the still form of Will’s twin sister rested. He’d never taken the remains to the appropriate part of the hospital for disposal, sensing, somehow, that he needed to take the twin sister of Will Stark back to the Cavern. “I don’t know what I can do for her, Will. For your sake, though, I’ll figure something out.”

  The intern reached out, rested a hand upon the boy’s forehead, and closed his eyes, breathing deeply. He opened his eyes a moment later, and there was a surreal glow to them. He reached down one more time, took a deep breath, and whispered to the sleeping child. “Good luck, Will.”

  And then Adam vanished from the hospital room, his presence long forgotten by all who had been there.

  Dear reader:

  Thank you so much for reading Birth of the Alliance. The story continues in Book Five of the series, which at the time of this upload is not yet available.

  If you want to know when the next book is released, the best method is to sign up for my mailing list by clicking here. You’ll get emails about new releases, and by signing up you’ll get access to content not available elsewhere.

  I hope you’ll take the time to leave a review at the site where you made your purchase…I look forward to hearing what you thought of it!

  Thanks!

  Alex

  alex@alexalbrinck.com

  http://www.alexalbrinck.com

  https://www.facebook.com/AuthorAlexAlbrinck

  Table of Contents

  Contents

  Title Page

  Prologue

  Visitors

  Cavern

  First

  Learning


  Scutarium

  Shadows

  Discovery

  Revolution

  Intelligence

  Dream

  Power

  War

  Control

  Harbor

  Mourning

  Search

  Secret

  Blood

  Partners

  Home

  Memories

  Copy

  Insertion

  Deception

  Bait

  Darkness

  Traitor

  Remorse

  Birth

  Author's Note