Sun Touched (Diamara Book 1)

by J. C. Hart

Before she had got everything ready, the boy shuffled into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. "Morning," he said with a yawn.

  "Hey." She bit her lip, watching as he pulled himself onto a stool. "You feeling okay this morning?"

  He nodded, giving her a brief smile. She pushed a cup of tea towards him, and watched as he took a sip. His nose crinkled up, but he took another sip anyway.

  "Thanks."

  "Do you want something else? I could make you a hot chocolate instead."

  "Yes please." He pushed the mug back towards her, and waited patiently as she made him a new drink.

  "Hungry?" She held up a box of cereal after she'd served his drink.

  "Starving." He grinned as she poured some into a bowl and then sloshed milk after it. "Thanks."

  "Jaxon." She waited until he was looking at her again before speaking, and reached a hand across to place on one of his. "I want you to know that I meant what I said last night. I want you to stay with me for as long as you want to."

  "I do want to. I really do." He was so earnest, eyes damp with hope and vulnerability that she could have cried.

  "That's great!" She smiled at him. "Bear with me while I figure a few things out, okay? I've got to head into work today, talk to my boss, and...we might need a bigger place sometime, but don't worry about that. It's my problem, and I'm sure if I put a request in with Housing they can sort us something out soon enough." She breathed deep, her shoulders relaxing a little, feeling like maybe she would be able to handle this after all.

  She could ask her sister for help. She could find a school for Jaxon and make up some story about why he was living with her. Her father would ask a million uncomfortable questions, of course, but maybe Sarai was right and he would want to feel needed. She could ask for help, and if he rejected her now, it wouldn't be any worse than the other times he had disagreed with her, or been disappointed that she wouldn’t live up to his expectations. She poured her cereal and gulped it down, feeling eager to get on with the list of things she had in her mind. It was a new day, one that held the kernel of hope, and she was going to have to make the most of it while it lasted.

  "Do you think you'll be okay here? I hate leaving you alone, but I don't really have another choice right now."

  "I'll be fine. You've got food, and I like to draw."

  "Excellent." Madea laughed. He was so easy to please. This wasn't going to be as hard as she'd imagined.

  She let herself into the lab, locking the door behind her. She didn't want anybody interrupting what she had to do, or she might lose her nerve entirely.

  "Sully?" Madea called out then waited for a response. It brought back a sense of déjà vu from a few nights before—only this time she didn't expect to find comfort in his arms.

  "Maddy.” Sullivan came through the office door. He was wearing his glasses today and his lab coat was stark white and wrinkle free. “You're late, and you didn't check in yesterday."

  "Sorry, something came up. Something I need to talk to you about." She walked towards him, but his eyes were still on the chart in his hands, and he moved toward one of the benches, fiddling with some tubes before turning toward her, his eyebrow raised.

  "Do you want to do this in my office, or out here?"

  "Office." She pushed past him, through the door and perched on a chair, torn between feeling sad he was being so brusque, and pleased that he was keeping this professional.

  "Okay." He entered and closed the door behind him. "What's up?"

  "I just need to tell you that I'm pregnant, and..." A wave of nausea swept over her, whether in response to the words she had spoken, or to the hormones, she didn't know. She swallowed hard and continued, "And, as my boss, and the father, I thought you should know." She nodded, released the breath she'd been holding and finally looked up to see his reaction.

  He was noticeably paler. "Pregnant?" Both of his eyebrows were raised now. "Pregnant." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Pregnant...right. Well. Are you sure?"

  "Am I sure?" Madea's laugh was shrill. "I took a test. The test confirmed what I already knew. Yes, I'm bloody well pregnant. Why would I tell you if I wasn't sure?"

  His shoulders slumped. "It's mine, isn't it." He scratched his chin. "How far along are you? Let's run some more tests."

  "What?" Madea narrowed her eyes. "That's all you have to say?"

  "Well, no. But if I do the tests, then it will tell me what I need—"

  "I'm not a science experiment! I can tell you what you need to know: Yes, you are the father, and I've been suspicious for weeks now, months even, I only took the test yesterday. What more do you want?"

  "I could find out the gender, and exact date of conception, whether everything is okay—"

  Those last words sent icicles through her veins. What if he could tell that she’d been Touched? What if it showed that the baby was damaged? "No. I'm not a pin cushion. You can't make me take any tests."

  "But I'm the father." Confusion clouded his eyes.

  "Biologically, yes—but do you have any intention of playing a major role in this kid's life? You were saying a few days ago that you weren't the kind of guy to settle down and have a family." She took a deep breath then said, "And that's okay with me."

  "Oh." He seemed to deflate, as though he had expected she would want something more. But did she? Wasn't it kinder to tell him from the start that he didn't have to play a role? It was her choice to have this baby, not his.

  "I'm not trying to hurt you, Sully." She softened her voice and leaned towards him. "You mean a lot to me. You're my friend, my boss, my lover. But you didn't ask to be a sperm donor, and it's not something we planned or thought would happen. I'm not blaming you. I just..."

  "You don't want me to be involved."

  "I didn't say that!"

  "Actually, you did."

  "I meant that you didn't have to feel like you owed me anything. Like you were responsible for this." She gestured to her stomach. "It's my burden."

  "You don't have to carry it if you don't want to."

  "I do want to," she replied, her words as firm as her resolve.

  "Well, then you don't have to carry it alone."

  "But—"

  "Just shut up for a minute, would you?" He scowled and shook his head. "See, this is why we would never work—you get these ideas in your head and nothing I say can move you. But that's not what I wanted to say." He rubbed his temples for a minute. "You're right. I don't want to be a dad, or a husband. As great as you are. You said it though, you're my friend and as your friend I want to support you in any way that I can."

  "Oh." It was her turn to be stunned into silence. He wanted to be there for her. Not as the father, but as her friend—that was more than she'd hoped for. While she might have joked last night about him firing her, it had been one of the possibilities that flitted through her mind. Or running from her, screaming, never to be seen again...

  "Not often you go quiet." Sullivan smiled. "What's going on in there?" He tapped her forehead gently and she burst into tears. He gathered her in his arms, drawing her into his lap and holding her while she wept.

  "I really don't know what I'm doing," she confessed.

  "Who does? If it helps, I'm sure you'll be a great mother. You have compassion, which is more than a lot of people these days. That's a good start."

  "Thanks." She sniffed and climbed off his lap, placing herself back in her chair. "I'm sorry about this. I know it wasn't in your plan."

  "Ah, well. Life's unexpected at times. We all know that the colony needs more babies, new life. The children born on Diamara are going to help forge the future we've begun here, and now I can say I've contributed my genetic material, and if I'm to father a child, I'm pleased it's with you."

  She leaned back, trying to decipher the look on his face. He was taking this a lot better than she had expected. Almost too well.

  "What?" he asked.

  "This wasn't the response I expected. I still don't know how I feel about
it."

  "Relieved? At least, I hope so. I don't want to make this difficult, and I certainly don't want it to get in the way of our work."

  "Yeah, relieved. I didn't expect it to go down so well."

  "This is your idea of well? I didn't get down on my knees and beg you to marry me. Wouldn't that have been more fitting?" He laughed, the grin had returned and he seemed relaxed. At ease. Which meant he was doing better than her, or perhaps he was simply better at acting.

  "If you had done that then I'd have started thinking you'd been Touched." The old, judgemental words came out without thought. Madea stiffened and then forced herself to relax.

  "Ha! Well, you might have been right, if I had." He laughed and she made sure to join in, though hers was slightly more hysterical than his.

  She didn't know for sure that she had been Touched. Maybe the time she'd spent outside the domes before now would mean she could be exposed for longer without her brain being affected. What would he say if she confessed that to him? Would he retract his offer of help and force her into custody?

  Madea wasn't going to breathe a word about it to anyone. Not until she knew for sure, and even then she would hold onto whatever shreds of sanity she could, for as long as possible. There was more than just her life at stake now.

  She'd been working for several hours when her back began to ache. Madea pressed her fingers against the curve of her spine and her vision swam, the air seeming to shimmer. She shut her eyes tight, and when she opened them again the blur was gone. Had she been getting enough sleep? This pregnancy thing was taking it out of her—first she fell asleep in the fields, and now she was seeing spots?

  "Sullivan," she called. "I'm not feeling so great. Is there any chance I can take the rest of the day off?"

  "Sure, in fact, that works well. I've got some testing to do on capsulim variant A." Sullivan didn't turn from his work, though she didn't expect him to.

  "Variant A? What's that?" She crossed to his bench, but he flicked the screen of his tablet dark and pushed away the microscope.

  "Something I've been working on for your father on the side. You'll be let in the loop when it's been approved."

  "By Father." She wanted to know more, but it didn’t seem like the time to press. Why her father had anything to do with their work, she had no idea.

  "Yes." He fidgeted, glancing over her shoulder at the door. "I shouldn't have told you."

  "Well don't worry, I won't tell anyone." Madea rolled her eyes. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

  "Call in if you need another day to rest." He waited until she'd thumbed the door open and crossed the threshold before turning back to his work.

  Weird. She had known he worked on things that he didn't share with her, but for her father? That was news.

  Sunlight filtered down through the dome, warming her back. At least the morning sickness was keeping at bay, though as she walked blurs streaked her vision occasionally, making her pause.

  "Jaxon," she called out as she entered the house. "Jaxon, where are you?"

  "Here." He poked his head around the doorway of the living room. "I'm hungry."

  "Right." She smiled. "Come on then, let's get something to eat." He followed her into the kitchen, reminding her of the puppy she'd had when she had lived on Earth—it wasn't often that she thought back to those days, now, but they were all tinged with a little sadness. Earth had been pretty wonderful, and while life here on Diamara wasn't horrible, it was something that had taken a few years to adjust to, what with living under the cover of the domes, and the vibrant orange of the sun, darker than the earth’s, a constant reminder of the threat of being Touched. Even now it seemed alien, and she'd been here for years.

  She quickly fixed some sandwiches, shoving a plate towards Jaxon as she picked one up and took a bite. The sweetness of jam hit her tongue and she gagged, spitting the chunk of soggy bread onto the plate before covering her mouth and swallowing hard, trying not to vomit.

  "They said my mum was really sick when she was pregnant with me," Jaxon said. "She puked all the time."

  "Bet you're glad you weren't around to see that." Madea took a deep breath, then grabbed a glass and got herself some water. It didn't take away the taste, but at least it made her mouth feel fresher, for a moment. Her eyes felt a little funny and she blinked, trying to clear the blotches from her vision. It only made it worse, because now she felt lightheaded and she could hear faint sounds that didn't seem to be coming from anything in the room. "I think I need to lie down for a bit. Are you going to be okay?"

  "I'm used to being by myself." Jaxon nodded, still eating his sandwich.

  Even with his mouth closed Madea could smell it in the air and this time she couldn't hold back the vomit. She turned and retched into the sink. "Oh God. Go in the other room, please. I don't want you to see this."

  "I won't watch. Promise."

  He climbed down from his seat, and his soft footsteps crossed the kitchen. His small hand was gentle on her back as he rubbed circles across her spine. Something about the gesture broke through her self-pity and she sat on the floor, bringing her cup with her. "Thank you," she said.

  "It's okay. It's not fun being sick. I don't like it."

  "Me either." She smiled at him. "You're a good kid. Has anyone ever told you that?"

  "Only Mum, but I think she had to. It's a mum's job to say that kind of thing."

  Madea laughed softly. He was so sincere, so sweet. "I'm sure she meant it, every single time she said it."

  "Thanks."

  Every time she said something kind, he looked like he might burst into tears. She felt the same way these days. They were an odd pair. Perhaps they could prop each other up. Having someone else who needed her right now was keeping her from spending all day moping about her life.

  "Give me a hand up," she said, extending her arm. Jaxon leaned backwards, helping to pull her off the floor. "You might need to put on some more muscle. By the time I'm at the end of this pregnancy I'll need lots of help." She smiled at him as he flexed his muscles, showing off his thin arms. "If you get too bored, come and get me. Okay?" She reached for the bench, using it to steady herself as her vision blurred again.

  "Okay!" He left her to it, and she made her way slowly to the bedroom where she promptly fell asleep.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Nausea woke her. She rolled from the bed and knelt on the floor, trying to orient herself. This pregnancy thing wasn't very glamorous. The stories about a healthy glow and shining beauty had to be wrong because she had never felt more unattractive—and it was only going to get worse. There was a coppery tang in her throat so she reached for her glass of water, slugging it back as fast as she could.

  It didn't make a difference.

  Madea groaned, closing her eyes in the hope that it might stop the room from spinning. It did help, but she could hardly go through the rest of the day blind.

  With her eyes closed, she could hear people talking. Jaxon and...who was he speaking to? A bolt of fear pushed Madea to her feet and she groaned, reaching for the bedside table. She forced herself into the hallway, bracing herself for the worst.

  "And this one, that's a picture of my mum. Her name is Janae."

  "Where's your mum now, kid?"

  Rickard. It was Rickard. Madea sighed with relief.

  "She's—"

  Madea cut him off as she stepped into the lounge. "She's had to go away for a bit, hasn't she, Jaxon?"

  "Yeah." He nodded, eyes wide.

  "What are you doing here, Rickard? I wasn't expecting you."

  "Obviously." He raised an eyebrow and cocked his head towards Jaxon.

  "Why don't you come and help me make some tea. You'll be okay for a bit, won't you, Jaxon?"

  "Sure." He nodded again, gaze flicking back and forth between Madea and Rickard.

  "Great." Her broad smile felt fake. She headed for the kitchen and Rickard fell into step behind her, grabbing her elbow as soon as they were out of earshot.

&
nbsp; "What's going on, Maddy? One day you tell us you're pregnant and the next there's a strange boy in your house."

  "Why don't you tell me what you're doing here?" Madea asked. "How the hell did you get into my house? Because I know for a fact that Jaxon wouldn't have answered the door."

  "Sarai gave me a key. She asked me to check on you." Rickard ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "I guess I should have called ahead. But still, that doesn't explain what he's doing here. What's going on?"

  "I can't explain—"

  "You better try," he demanded.

  "I'm going to make a cup of tea," Madea said with a sniff.

  "I'll make it. You start talking." Rickard let her go and moved to the sink to fill the jug.

  Madea perched on a stool, relieved she didn't have to move around. "I provided the jinweed at a Hollowing a few days ago, and the woman spoke to me. She told me about her son, asked me to help him out."

  "You mean that boy? His mother was Touched?" Rickard frowned.

  "She was, and now she's Hollowed."

  The words hung in the air for a moment. A flicker of grief flashed across Rickard's eyes. He visibly shook it off before responding, his voice more subdued. "Well, that sucks."

  "No kidding." She rolled her eyes. "I needed to make sure he was okay, so I went to find him and...well, they pretty much ordered me to take him. They couldn't give him the life he deserved." She decided it was better to keep the grandfather's conspiracy theories to herself until she knew whether there was any truth in them.

  "So you brought him home?"

  "What else was I meant to do? It wasn't like I had a choice." Her shoulders slumped. "I was going to try and find another place for him but...he needs me." She glanced up at Rickard, who was staring back at her.

  "I guess that makes sense. But really, Maddy. You work full time, you're having a baby. Do you need this right now? As if your life isn't busy enough."

  "It's not about me. It's about him. Can you honestly tell me you'd abandon him if you were in my place?"

  "No, I guess I wouldn't." Rickard let out a long breath. "You sure know how to make a mess of your life, you know that?"