by Rena Marks
Glory muttered the whole time. “So much formality. It would be much simpler if you merely called my own daughter to meet me. We could bypass all these transactions.”
“I understand your wishes to simplify, ma’am. But Robyn is a busy woman, and is busy in Systems—“
The woman gasped. “How dare you call her by her given name? It is Mistress Saraven to you.”
Behind him, Beau snickered. “Lady Saraven, this is your daughter’s significant other. They live together.”
“Nice to meet you.” Steele’s smile was pleasant. He hardly showed any teeth. “My name is Steele.”
She ignored his outstretched hand, instead reaching into her handbag to put white gloves on her hands. Even Beau was silent now.
But Steele’s voice was mild. “Please step into the chamber separately to be searched.”
“Chamber? Searched for what? I refuse to be scanned like a commoner.”
“Then you will be escorted outside the gates like a commoner. You can wait out there while your car is brought back to you.”
“I demand for my daughter to be contacted right now. If she is not, I will have the President’s office call here. This is beyond incompetent.”
“You are welcome to forfeit your visit long enough to call your president,” Steele said. “Good luck getting credentials again. I heard security has been tightened.”
He had her and he knew it.
“Jasper, enter it,” she snapped.
The manservant jumped to do her bidding. The chamber, made of clear glass, rotated him ever so slowly as it scanned his body. Various lights flashed. Glory’s focus was on the scan, missing when Steele made a hand signal to Beau to slow the process.
The rotation crept ever so much slower.
“What is taking so long?” Glory snapped.
“These things take time,” Steele said.
She began to tap her foot impatiently. “If this is how the mother of your creator is treated, I’m going to demand your intelligence is tested,” she snapped.
The chamber pinged. Her manservant exited the other side. Through the clear glass, they watched him turn and wait.
“Your turn.” Steele smiled, sweeping his hand outward toward the chamber. The hand she would barely look at.
She stomped toward the device, hardly ladylike, but more like a bull in heels. Steele kept his face expressionless.
“Same speed?” Beau asked him, as soon as the doors closed.
“As slow as you got. And right before it reaches the end, stop it.”
“You got it.”
They waited for excruciatingly long minutes as Glory was paraded on the turntable. As promised, the lights went out of the chamber. From across the way, her manservant looked confused, and the lady herself looked up at the ceiling of the device as if she could figure out what was wrong.
“Manual code,” Steele said softly to Beau.
Beau hid a smile as he triggered a small alarm.
“I apologize for the inconvenience, Lady Saraven,” Steele called out toward the opened speakers. “It is mandatory that you be physically searched.”
“Physically searched for what?”
The small door to the chamber opened, and Steele entered the small unit, dwarfing it. Glory looked decidedly uncomfortable with his large presence.
“Please remove all outer clothing.”
“You must be joking. Don’t you know who I am? Who my daughter is?”
He nodded. “You have made it clear. Please remove all outer, unnecessary clothing.”
“I will not.”
Steele extended his hands. “If you do not remove outer clothing, I will be forced to remove it for you.”
She gasped, her jaw working slowly as her mouth opened and closed. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“I am security for Xenia. The scan would not complete on you. It is a physical search or you do not enter. You can remove your outer clothing, or I have the authority to remove anything I deem necessary.”
“Don’t you touch me with your filthy hands!” Glory said. She stripped off her gloves and the small, decorative veil from her face.
Now, he had a full view of the bottom half of her face. Her lips were thin and mean. Nothing like Robyn’s.
She tossed the items onto a small shelf.
“Please spread them.” Never had words brought Steele so much joy.
Glory turned her back to him, facing her manservant, and placed her hands on the glass. Her legs weren’t spread at all, but that was more than okay with Steele. The manservant’s eyes were wide.
“I will have your head,” she spat.
Steele quickly patted her down, ignoring her flinch as his four-fingered hands touched her. From behind her, he leaned in. The scent of expensive hair product wafted past his nostrils.
“Your daughter moans instead of flinches,” he whispered into her ear.
“Bastard!” she hissed.
He stepped away, and the door to the chamber swung open. She grabbed her flimsy items from the shelf and hurriedly left the device as if she couldn’t wait to be away from him.
“This way is the shuttle.”
They walked the short distance outside to where a row of open-faced shuttles were parked.
“Are those actual wheels?” the Lady of the Manor sneered.
“Yes, ma’am. It shall be a bumpy ride. Also windy. No windows,” he said unnecessarily, waving his four fingers over the open areas of the shuttle. Wind shouldn’t be a problem with all the hairspray holding her coiffed hair in place. She ignored him as her manservant helped her board the two steps onto the bus. Steele stepped in after them and punched in Systems as the destination, before taking the seat behind them.
It would make them uncomfortable to be stared at.
Chapter Fifteen
Robyn heard loud voices sounded out in the main entry. “Where is she? Where is my daughter?” Her mother’s voice was supercilious as if she thought she owned the compound. Her tone hadn’t changed at all unless she chose to use the lovingly fake voice for vidcam conversations.
“This way.” Steele’s voice rumbled with its usual sexy undertones, but a thread of impatience was holding him in check. Good. Robyn felt grim. He had a taste for exactly how she felt toward her mother.
She waited, seated behind the desk like a coward until her mother and manservant were brought into her office.
“Robyn! It is you. Finally.” Her mother spoke around the veiled kerchief she wore at her mouth. Only the highest societal rungs patronized the veil. It was never admitted, but the veil was a small attempt to keep germs at bay. Instead, the women pretended it was a fashion statement.
“Mother.” Robyn nodded formally. “Jasper.”
Her mother didn’t respond, and after an awkward moment, her manservant did. “Mistress Saraven. A pleasure to see you again.”
“I see you’ve met Steele.”
“Steele?” Her mother’s hard eyes flicked toward him as if noticing his skin color for the first time. Even behind the mask, Robyn knew her lips tightened.
“I introduced myself.”
“Did you? I imagine the color is why they named you that.” Her eyes flitted over his skin, dismissing him.
“That and the fact that it’s a name,” Robyn said.
Ignoring her, he came around to Robyn’s side of the desk. “I will leave you to get reacquainted,” he rumbled. “Unless you’d rather I stayed?”
“No, it’s okay.” She raised her face for his kiss, ignoring the deeply indrawn breath of her mother. He lingered during the kiss, giving her time to change her mind. She enjoyed the kiss, squeezing his hand.
“I won’t be far.”
Steele left, closing the door behind him.
“Really, Robyn. If you were lonely, I’m sure we could have found you a companion.” Her mother stared at her manicure, frowning slightly as if it wasn’t impeccable.
“Quite capable of finding my own companionship, mother.”
/> “Nonetheless, I find I must still remind you—the way I always did when you were younger—that our family has a certain protocol to follow. Especially with your brother’s title. We mustn’t mar our line.”
“You seem to forget I’m untitled.”
“Untitled? That’s ludicrous. You are the Mistress Saraven of the fifth floating city—“
“Technically...the sixth.”
“Excuse me?”
Robyn smiled thinly. “My father was born to Zeta Six. You were not. Neither was Michael. It is my inherent right to claim Zeta Six.”
Her mother’s eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared. “How dare you speak of your brother as if he is some creature beneath you?” As usual, her tone implied that he was better than Robyn. He was certainly higher in social status, that was a given.
But Robyn sighed. She didn’t have time for this. “Why did you come all this way?”
“I am simply a mother, Robbie.” Glory Saraven swept her arm around in a queenly fashion. “A mother makes sure her child is well.”
Robyn deliberately stood. “Of course, I’m well.”
Her mother’s eye was drawn to the tiny baby bump.
“What?” For once, her mother was at a loss for words, her mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air.
But Robyn let her stumble, rubbing her belly the way pregnant females did.
“Are you...pregnant?” The last word was drawn out in a horrified whisper.
“Very astute,” Robyn said drily.
“How far along?”
“Three months now.”
“His?” Her mother gritted out, looking toward the main room where Steele had left.
“Yes. The father is Steele.”
“Enough is enough! I will not allow you to throw away your future on some...some...hobby!” Her mother threw her arms in the air. “Yes, you take in sick and injured. But fine, now it’s set up. Take your rightful place in society and let others take care of this...project.” Her lip curled. “We can get this...taken care of. Gently. Quietly. We need never speak of it amongst us again.”
Robyn felt heat fill her, from her toes to the crown of her head. It rushed out, pouring from her skin in waves. Her belly tightened, giving her the instant urge to heave.
She breathed.
In through her nose, and out through her mouth. In and out. In, out.
Slowly, the heat dissipated though the tight feeling in her midsection did not.
“To make sure it’s never spoken of,” Robyn said, leaning in earnestly. “We’ll have to staunch all areas that may know the truth. Did you read the disclosure form you signed to enter Xenia?”
Her mother blinked. “Yes. I agreed to abide by all rules and laws of the city.”
“Those override your Earth citizenship,” Robyn said. “That gives Xenia the authority to squash the rumors by putting down all sources that know the truth.” She turned and looked directly at her mother’s manservant. “I can sentence him to death right now.”
His face turned white.
Her manservant—who her mother had been fucking for years—began to sputter, but the words wouldn’t come out.
Not that Glory cared for him. He simply took care of a woman’s needs as part of his duties. How it was acceptable to fuck an employee but not someone of her own status was beyond her.
It was too much for Robyn. All of a sudden, something inside her clicked—and released. A sudden a gush of wetness hit between her legs, running down her bare thighs to splash lightly on the floor.
She stared incredulously at the mess before hitting the communicator on her wrist.
“Amanda!” she gasped.
“Robyn?” Amanda’s voice rang with alarm, hearing the panic in Robyn. “What’s wrong?”
“My water broke.”
“What? It’s way too early. Stay right there. Don’t you dare move!”
It was less than a minute before the doors burst open. The room was flooded with Xeno Sapiens, and her mother’s eyes goggled at all the different faces. For once she was silent, which was probably indicative of the sheer size of the other beings.
“Robyn? Baby, are you okay?” Steele’s eyes focused on her, but her stomach cramped with an unmistakable pain.
“Oomph,” she gasped. “The baby! Steele!”
Amanda took over. “It’s okay, Robyn. We’re here. Irina and I are both here. Steele, take her to one of the med beds. Beast, you and Blaze make sure her...mother and her manservant are comfortable.” She gave them a look that reinforced they were guards.
Robyn screamed, another birthing pain shooting like fire through her abdomen.
Steele pressed his lips to her temple, murmuring against her skin. “I got you, baby.” He picked her up into his arms.
“It’s too early. He’s too small.”
Steele’s voice was calm. “Your water broke. There’s no stopping labor now. Whatever happens, we’ll work through it.”
He carried her away, pressing his lips to her forehead, leaving all the commotion behind them. He walked down the hallway to the furthest med-room, keeping as much distance as he could between them and the humans in her office.
Amanda and Irina were fast on his heels, closing the door as he laid her on the medical bed. She was quickly stripped from the waist down, and a sheet placed over her midsection. In a few more minutes, the other two doctors burst in, Eric and Sam.
“Legs up, feet in the stirrups,” Amanda said, even as she reached for Robyn’s ankles to guide her to them.
“She’s dilated,” Irina said, holding the scanner.
“Let me measure it manually,” Amanda said, inserting a gloved hand.
“Okay, Robyn, we’re miscarrying. Since labor is happening naturally, we’re going to see if everything expels properly without a D&C.”
Robyn gasped. “There’s no way to stop it?”
Amanda’s light brown eyes looked sorrowful. “I’m sorry, sweetie. Labor is too far along.”
While Robyn knew this—she was a doctor, after all—she couldn’t help but hold on to the hope that her baby would live.
Another sharp pain cracked across her abdomen. Robyn’s body tensed as she prepared to push. “I can’t...stop,” she sobbed. “It wants out.”
She was determined to hold it in. She knew her baby couldn’t possibly live at three months of gestation. He was only four to six inches long, at best. A part of her wanted to squeeze her legs together and force him to stay inside, to grow and be healthy. But the doctor in her knew better. Her water broke, and she was in active labor. Or, a miscarriage as the accurate term would be. She was only in her thirteenth week. Hell, he wasn’t even classified as an actual birth until the twentieth.
“Get a camera,” she muttered. “I want to watch.”
Irina stood and entered the command into the keyboard at the wall. A camera attached to a long swivel extended from the wall, which she grabbed and aimed behind Amanda. The monitor extended from the ceiling, showing Robyn everything that was happening below her.
Dr. Sam moved up alongside her right, opposite of Steele on her left. His gloved hand moved along her abdomen, pressing and feeling with his strong fingers.
Another pain ripped through her. She could feel something—a lump—moving down her vaginal canal. From the inside, she felt pressure against her labia before they parted like the curtains of a theatrical stage. In the birthing cam, she watched a thick, swollen sac of bloody tissue drop from between her legs, landing softly in the bedpan held by Irina. Amanda took the bedpan away and covered the sac with a disposable cloth.
But then a tiny, muffled cry rent the air. Every single person in the room froze. Robyn’s confused brain interpreted it as perhaps a kitten.
Amanda scrambled, lifting the cloth from the dishpan. She placed the pan in her lap and grabbed a scalpel. Slowly, she sliced a bit of the tissue and very gently opened the sac. Lying in the middle of thickened tissue and blood—which looked like a morbid cradle—lay wh
at looked like a baby doll, no more than five inches long. The silver-tinted skin made the small being look dead. But it was alive. His tiny arms and legs kicked as he continued to howl in a squeaky tone.
Irina grabbed a scanner, running it over the tiny body. “My God,” she said. “There’s no umbilical cord attaching him to his mother. I think the sac must have had the umbilical attachment and pulled away during labor.”
“What?” Steele’s voice was a growl.
“He’s completely formed internally. I think he’s...healthy.”
“But he’s too small,” Robyn gasped. “It’s not a miscarriage?”
“No,” Amanda said, her voice stunned. “He’s a live birth. He’s kicking...and breathing...and crying. Even as quiet as he is.”
Irina grabbed a small sheet, tearing a corner off to wipe him. Amanda carefully picked him up and handed him to Steele, who’d moved down to where she and Irina were.
The large size of his hand made the tiny baby seem even smaller, but the infant calmed in the warmth of his father’s palm. Steele brought him up to Robyn to see. It seemed strange to carry a baby in the cradle of one’s hand.
The baby’s skin was a lighter shade than Steele’s. He almost looked like he was dead, save for the kicking of his tiny arms and legs. His head was too large for his skinny body, and his eyes were too large for his head.
But he was the sweetest, most beautiful being she’d ever seen.
Robyn took him out of his father’s palm, lifting him ever-so-carefully to bring to her chest. “You’re sure? He’s going to live?”
Irina was still in a state of shock, shaking the hand scanner repeatedly. “It says completely formed. If not for his small size, this is a full term baby.”
The baby had settled now and was sleeping peacefully on Robyn’s chest. His tiny back moved up and down with each breath he took.
“Congratulations, Robyn and Steele,” Amanda said, still staring at the infant. “I’m sorry.” She shook her head to clear it. “I’m still so shocked. Did this just happen? I can’t believe this happened.”
