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Part 39
Despite having every intention of tracking Alec down and picking up where we left off earlier, I’m kinda getting the impression that Alec and I won’t be having hot, sweaty sex in the immediate future after all. TC is a zoo.
There are more transgenics here than ever before, with more pouring in by the minute. And I swear to god, I have never seen so many pregnant woman…or girls actually…on the brink of giving birth before in my whole life. There are only two or three that already went into labor, but despite their comparatively small number, TC seems to be filled with moans and groans and screams of agony, not to mention curses thrown in the direction of Manticore and all men walking this earth.
Note to self – never get pregnant. It’s obviously so not worth it.
So basically, everyone with even a hint of medical training is assisting with the births of the babies or monitoring the pregnant women who are still in the pre-labor phase, just in case.
That wouldn’t be me by the way.
I’m just cooking water – despite not having any clue what exact purpose that supposedly serves – and making sure that there are enough clean sheets and blankets around – helping things along with a bit of alien mojo since we are most definitely not even close to having enough of anything that’s actually clean.
Alec however is helping, and I swear to god he’s enjoying being cursed at, happily letting one of the X5’s call him names that even the devil himself would blush at, crushing his hands in a death grip while she’s trying to survive the obviously intense agony of the contractions.
Biggs is doing the actual work – well, actually the girl is doing the actual work, but he’s giving her instructions, telling her to breathe and when she should push, informing her that he can already see the head, reassuring her that it’s almost over…
I’m watching them from a distance, torn between fascination, sympathy and the urge to get sterilized.
Don’t get me wrong, I always wanted children, but if an X5, who is so much more resistant to pain than a normal human, can barely stand it, how are we lowly humans ever supposed to bear it?
Suddenly Biggs glances in my direction, spotting me. “Hey Liz, be a doll and grab a clean towel, will ya? I’ll need one once this little sucker pops out.”
I roll my eyes at Biggs’ choice of words, but I get a towel anyway. As soon as I’m back the baby does ‘pop out’ and promptly starts wailing. But instead of taking the towel from me, Biggs simply dumps the baby into my arms. After cutting the umbilical cord, he says, “Clean it up, will ya? We still have work here.”
I just stare at him. Is he crazy? I mean, sure, I’ve held babies before, but I’ve never been responsible for a newborn. It’s covered in blood and slime, its skin is all red and horribly wrinkly and it has a strange-looking patch of black hair covering its head.
I take a peek. It’s a boy. Figures. That’s probably why he’s so ugly.
I sigh. Oh well. This can’t be that hard. Not like I haven’t given a bath to a baby before. But then, this is a newborn. What do I know about newborns?
I try to remember something from the magazines I’ve leafed through at my gynecologist. Wasn’t there something about not bathing babies until their umbilical cord stump fell off? Well, that’s hardly the case here. Sponge bath it is.
Now I just need a sponge. And water. And towels. So I head over to the nursery…if you can even call it that. Last time I saw it, it was dirty and dusty and generally looked like a dump.
When I walk into the room I stop in my tracks.
Woah. Did I take a wrong turn somewhere? This looks totally different. Gone is the dirt and the dust and the junk scattered around the room. It’s clean, and there are actually real cribs. Wonder where they got them from. Then again, I don’t want to know. I know exactly what the chances are that they got them through means that would earn them a year or two in prison if they ever got caught.
There’s also a shelf that is empty except for a rather ragged looking stuffed animal and two old books – children’s books I assume – and a dresser. Someone really seemed to put a lot of work into this.
Suddenly M comes into the room followed by Joshua, both carrying boxes that seem to be filled with baby stuff – clothes and bottles and diapers and god knows what else. Joshua smiles when he sees me, M looks like she’s been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
Guess I know who’s behind all this. Kinda figures.
M drops the box she’s carrying onto the dresser. “Who’s that?”
“Baby of an X5 who just gave birth. Think her name is Lea. It’s a boy.”
M comes closer. She wrinkles her nose. “Kinda ugly.”
I smile. “Yup. But he should look better once the blood and slime is removed. You got a bathroom around here for the babies?”
She nods at one of the doors. “Through there.”
“Thanks.” I go into the bathroom and look around. There seem to be enough supplies to take care of all the newborns of Settle.
I fill a basin with water that’s warm but not anywhere near hot before placing the baby on one of two makeshift changing tables.
Grabbing some cotton balls, I moisten them and start cleaning the baby’s face. Still ugly if you ask me. And still crying. I know babies need to cry to strengthen their lungs or something, but Jesus, can’t he do that while I’m not there?
When I grab a washcloth to take care of the rest of the blood, I realize that it’s not anywhere near soft, so I wave my hand over it, taking care of that. Then I dip it into the water and gently clean the rest of his head, mindful of the soft spot on top of his head, before drying it.
The washcloth is already kind of yucky so I wave my hand over it again to clean it before starting with the rest of his body. That’s when I notice M. She’s standing in the doorway watching me, and there’s something in her eyes…
“Wanna take over?” I ask her, ignoring that she must have just witnessed me using my powers. I don’t think she even noticed.
Judging by the look on her face, I might as well have asked her if she feels like jumping off the Space Needle. Her eyes are as wide as saucers and she looks like her flight instincts are about to kick in.
“You’re not scared, are you?”
Her eyes narrow as she straightens her shoulders. Somehow I just knew that that would do the trick.
“Of course not,” she sneers.
I smile. “Well, then…”
I move a step away from the baby and M takes over the spot I had just occupied, but then she hesitates. “I’ve never touched a baby before,” she confesses after a moment.
I shrug. “They’re tough little critters. Besides, he’s a transgenic. Just don’t drop him and you’ll be fine.”
I wet the washcloth once again before pressing it into her hand. “Just wipe down his body with this.”
She does as she is told, twice as gently as the situation demands. Guess she really is scared of breaking him.
When it comes to cleaning his back, she seems to be at a loss. So I spread a towel over my shoulder and pick the still wailing baby up. Holding him to my chest, M has access to his back and she goes about cleaning it as well.
Once she’s satisfied that he’s clean we put some diapers on him before wrapping him into a towel. He finally stops wailing and I have to admit, while he’s not exactly cute, he looks much better than before.
Before she can protest, I hand the baby over to her. “Here. You take him back to Lea.”
She looks up at me and for the first time since we met, I see something other than hostility and suspicion in her eyes. She nods, not quite smiling at me, before she turns and leaves.
-------
I don’t know what Alec’s problem is. I was only on my feet for a couple of hours before he gets this strict Alec-knows-best look on his face and sends me back to bed.
Not that I listened. I mean, who am I to be ordered around by a guy?
Needless to say, he didn’t like it. So what does he do? Caveman that he is, he just plucks me up, throws me over his shoulder and hauls me off to bed.
Bastard.
And he doesn’t even have the decency to try and ravish me. Not that I would let him touch me after what I just witnessed. Dad was right after all. Sex is bad. Sex is very bad. Sex leads to pregnancies, thus to unbearable pain, which is never ever worth the few moments of pleasure it can bestow on you.
Anyway, after dumping me onto his bed, he just walks out again.
So what do I do? Right. I get up again.
And what does he do when he sees me? Right. He hauls me off to bed again.
Deciding that repeating the whole thing a third time is more than my pride can take, I stay in bed. And just to spite him, I wear myself out practicing my powers. Setting his bed on fire would be the perfect punishment for his unacceptable behavior.
But to my slight dismay and big surprise, nothing bad happens. Not once during the whole three-hour period do I unintentionally blow something up, set something on fire or damage something in any other way possible. Unless it’s on purpose, of course. Small and petty, but very satisfying I can tell you. Alec won’t like the bedsprings poking him into his back…and other body parts.
But still, it’s all very strange. I did count on at least one small explosion.
So I get up again and search for Ava, careful to avoid any places where Alec might be.
Back in Alec’s room, we go through all my powers together. And while they don’t always work quite the way I want them to, they never backfire.
Strange. Hell must have frozen over. I’ve actually mastered my powers.
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