A Story Written By Queenliz…
]How can eggs hatching be hard on Vage?
I don’t know how long I stand outside the doorway, but finally I conclude that I have to walk through it. I have to face what’s inside.
Commanding the ship to open this door, I step through.
Vage is not on the incubator, as she has been every other time I’ve been in here, and for just a moment, I wonder at that oddity, until my brain realizes that the children wouldn’t be in there, after they hatched. I sense her switches in an adjoining room, and open that hatchway before going in.
It takes me a moment to comprehend the scene before me. Vage is lying on the floor, her arms around some small, unmoving objects, and Varand has her arm around her older sister, trying to comfort her, and talking in their dual-toned language.
I take a step forward, my eyes and even my senses drawn to the six or seven objects that Vage is cradling. I can hear what I take to be crying from Vage, and only then does it really hit me that our kids haven’t survived.
I don’t know what to think, or even what to feel. My body is locked up in shock, as I try to form coherent thoughts. Yes, they are my kids, but they aren’t entirely human, and it’s not like I had helped incubate the eggs. The entire time Vage had been on that incubator, it almost felt like she was taking care of someone else’s eggs.
But now that I see the tiny things, it strikes home. These tiny things are the product of Vage’s and my coupling. I helped create these tiny creatures, and there is some small part of me in each one. My eyes can see that they’re gone, but my heart refuses to believe it.
I drop to my knees next to Vage, and only then do they notice me, but I ignore them. There is something. . .
I look at the tiny creatures, marveling at how they look. They have the pinkish skin of Vage’s race, but it’s tinged just a bit by the baby pink of a human newborn.
Their eyes are smaller than Vage’s in comparison to the head, which is also smaller in comparison to their body. I notice that some have four fingers and some have three. There are six in all, and they all have light tufts of hair on their peaceful heads. If I ignore the fact that they aren’t breathing, I can almost imagine that they’re sleeping peacefully.
All of this I note with the outside of my concentration, however. There is something. . . It almost feels like I can sense them, like I can with my switches, but I’ve never made switches in these little creatures.
“I tried to save them,” Vage’s voice penetrates the fog that surrounds my mind, distracting me.
“Our DNA just doesn’t mix,” I can barely understand her, as she tries to speak English through her tears.
“They all broke their shells, but didn’t live long past that.” Vage chokes up again, and Varand tries unsuccessfully to console her.
It strikes me as odd, her concern for the children. Hadn’t she intimated that her race didn’t care for their children? Yet, the death of these six is tearing her apart.
‘This was different,’ the words appear in my vision. Apparently I’d sent the question to her, and feel like a heel. In her depression, I’d accidently asked her a question like that.
‘What we did together was beautiful, not painful. Usually incubation is handled by machines, but my ship wasn’t designed for mating and children. I’ve come to care for them, as I care for you.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ I send back to her, but. . .
Why can I sense them, if they’re dead and I’ve not given them a switch? The question plays through my head a few times, before something occurs to me.
Without a word, I jump up and ran all the way back to the blue room. I don’t say a word as I burst in, only stopping long enough to grab Loveth’s wrist, and drag her after me. She yelps when she passes into the darkness, but I know her eyes will adjust soon enough, thanks to her wangers.
“Nick, what are you. . .?” she tries to ask me, but I just keep running.
As soon as we’re in the room with Vage, Varand, and my kids, I finally stop, and feel for them again. It’s fainter now, but I can still make them out. I have to hurry, or it might be too late.
“Take off your shirt,” I command Loveth, as I start to do the same. Will it be enough, or will it take more contact? I don’t know, but I have to try. I’m definitely in no mood to even try to wake my ccocck up.
“I hardly think now is the time—” Loveth starts to protest, but I cut her off.
“Just do it! Hurry, before it’s too late.” Loveth looks from me to Vage and back again, before quickly removing her shirt. I don’t think I have time to explain, my sense of them is fading too fast.
Vage and Varand start saying something in their language, but I ignore them as I hug Loveth close to me, and feel my strength with the switches magnify exponentially at the contact.
To Be Continued…