They all appeared to be asleep, and I wasn’t sure I would even know if they were in trouble. Watching them sure beat scrubbing air ducts. At one point, the woman moaned and I rushed over. Lamont had left a few pain pills by the patient’s bedside in case she needed more.
“Are you in pain?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said. Her voice was thin and weak.
“The doctor has pills.” I moved to get her a glass of water, but the woman grabbed my arm.
“A pill can’t ease this kind of pain. Can you sit and talk to me?”
“Sure.” I pulled a chair beside her bed. We sat in uncomfortable silence for a while.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“Ella.”
A half smile played on her white lips. “That’s it? No family names?”
“Oh. Ella Garrard Sanchia.”
“Still no mate, then?”
“No. I’m Doctor Lamont’s intern.” I needed to tread carefully and watch what I said.
“Did you… Did you see her?”
Only one possible ‘her.’ The baby. “Yes. She is beautiful.”
“Really?” The woman bit her lip.
Instinct took over. “She has long dark eyelashes and already a full head of hair. Her face was a perfect oval, her chin came to a little point with a dimple. Skin so smooth and as soft as the underside of a sheep’s ear.” My surprise matched the woman’s. I held the baby for minutes, yet I could form a life-like picture of her in my mind’s eye.
Unfortunately, my description caused the woman more pain. Tears flowed and her chest heaved in quiet sobs. Feeling terrible, I tried to ease her anguish. “Don’t worry so much. She will be loved in the lower levels. The care facility is broken into units of ten children per Care Mother. The Mothers love all the children and she will grow up with care mates, who will look after her. I’m sure one of the older boys will become very protective and she will fuss about his attention, but be his staunchest supporter.”
The woman stared at me as if I had sprouted wings. I didn’t know what caused me to say so much. At least, I didn’t lie to her. Care mates could be very protective.
Instead of questioning me on how I knew so much, the upper sighed in relief. “What do you think they’ll name her?”
“Hmmm… She’ll need a pretty name, but not too girly as I think she’ll be a bit of a tom boy.”
“Gillie? I always liked the name.”
“A good choice.”
We discussed Gillie’s life, her toddler years, her schooling and her career.
“I think she might gravitate to working in the care facility. As a helper to start and then a Care Mother,” I said.
By this time, the upper’s tears had dried. She smiled proudly. “Yes, I’m sure she will love the little ones, and have enough patience for the active two-hundred week olds.”
“And the nice man who works in recycling, you know the one who made her those metal flowers?”
“Do you think he wants to be her mate?” she asked.
“There’s not much time or material to make those buds for just anyone. He’s interested.”
We talked through Gillie’s life, from start to finish, including all her accomplishments and major life events. The woman fell asleep with a dreamy half smile still on her lips.
I remained by her bedside. Cog would be amused by my efforts to comfort an upper. No. Not amused. Proud. I liked Ella. She was a good sort, much nicer than Trella, and I hoped she managed to survive the next thirty hours.
