She knew that Revants had a shorter cycle with pregnancy, about five months. Clare had gotten pregnant four and a half months ago and had begun to show almost immediately, though she hid that with draped and artful clothing so she could continue to go on missions under the cover of carding and gambling.
But she had come back from her last mission recently and had been declared unable to travel for fear of injuring the child because she was so close to birth.
“Oh my God.”
Margie stood, her eyes pouting down to her belly. Sure enough, there was a noticeable bulge there!
“No! Oh no, no, no! If Jenny or Marik don’t tell on me, you will! You must not, don’t you know your father’s…”
The words broke off. An image came up, shimmering in the air before her and not in her mind. That flummoxed her so much she could not even breathe.
She watched as Jeval climbed aboard the ship waiting and the door closed.
“Oh my God.”
She swayed on her feet as she understood it then. It had been the baby that had shown her that vision of what would happen if the wormhole was opened and The Federation attempted to take on that other universe! It was the baby who had just raised that nearly holographic image in the hut she lived in.
“What are you?”
There was no answer. Hunger whistled up from her belly, and she staggered toward the wash basin, her mind trying to shut down and ignore the thing she had just seen, had just figured out.
Her baby was gifted in its own ways, and she had no idea if she wanted to know what that meant.
Jeval had said most babies born to those with gifts like him didn’t survive. She had known, before that moment, that it was possible that both she and that child would die, but now she was even more scared.
And more determined to try.
That baby was not just in there, swimming around in some senseless state. It could think and feel and everything else, and it could see what was happening, both in the future and at that moment. It was not just a nameless lump of flesh growing into a child: it was her child, hers and Jeval’s, and she had to protect that girl.
That girl.
Her hands stilled. Water and soap dripped onto the floor of the bathing stall. The slow trickle of water suddenly increased and then, it heated. The warm shock and pressure of it startled her so much that her fingers released the cloth she had been holding. It landed atop her right foot, and she stared down at it dumbly.
“You’re a girl,” she whispered. “Make the water a little faster if that is a yes.”
The water came faster. So fast that the small drain drilled into the floor could not contain it. Margie exclaimed, “Okay! Okay!”
The water slowed. She bent to pick up the soapy cloth and began to wash. Since the water was still coming fast enough to do so she washed her hair, a luxury she usually only engaged in twice a week because of the length of time it took to do so.
She cut the water off and stepped out of the little chamber, navigating the slippery boards and stones of the floor carefully for fear of falling and injuring her daughter in some way.
She dried and dressed quickly then sat down on the bed to brush her hair. She stared at the wall, unable to process the huge thing that was true, and part of the child within her. She asked, “Can you hear me? I think you can. How do you know those things?”
No answer.
Margie went out the door. Dusk fell so fast there that it always stunned her a little. Night had come in, right behind that brief dusk, and now the terrain was cloaked in darkness. The solar lamps and wind power lit up the communal eating area, and as she stepped into the pavilions, she felt the tension and hush that had come over her fellow citizens. They were all nervous as hell, and with good reason since there were Federation officers and guards and soldiers in their ranks now, all busy eating not just the printed food they must have brought down from the ships, but the fresh stuff that was the bounty of the planet.
Jeval sat with his siblings. Jessica and Jenny and Clare all sat huddled at a small table by the side of the pavilion and fresh worry hit. The brothers were rarely without their mates, but tonight they were seated with the general that had come down earlier, and many soldiers. What was happening?
Everything is well,a soft female voice whispered from within her.Be still.
She went to the serving lanes and took food then went to the table where the other women sat. They all gave her long and grave looks. She looked down at her plate. Normally the sight of freshly caught fish and harvested food would have ignited her hunger, but just then worry ate into her, stemming off her appetite.
She whispered, “Have they said anything at all?”
Clare shook her head. Lavender circles had cropped up under her eyes, and she shifted slightly, the high mound of her belly moving as her child moved in its sac. “No. Well, yes, but…”
“Jeval told me.” Her fingers went to the silverware. “I can’t let him go. He will die, and then what?”
