Doctor Who_ Beyond the Sun - Matthew Jones [1]
The enormous cloning machines were all that were left of yet another lost civilization in the universe, found lying among the debris of a long-collapsed society.
The spiralling ribbed tunnels inside the Blooms had been lit with electric lights fed by cables, which had been stapled to their curved fleshy walls. However, despite what the scientists had said, swimming through the gloomy tunnels still felt unnervingly like being inside a giant’s nervous system.
Kitzinger visited the children who floated in the nearest tunnels. The children were completely unaware of her care and attention of course. There was little to do for the sleepers now except wait for the umbilical cords of the human children to wither and tear and for the others to hatch out of their eggs.
Sometimes it was necessary to guide a newborn out of the tunnels; on other occasions the newly woken child would find its own way. And Kitzinger would be startled by their breaking the surface of the pool, coughing the liquid out of their lungs, eager to take their first desperate gasp of air.
There were over four hundred families of eight growing in this Bloom. Eight was the Ursulan family unit. One child to represent each of the eight species on Ursu.
An Oolian girl was curled in a transparent rubbery sac. There was a tear in the bottom of the thick bubble, and one of her thin, scrawny legs was poking through. The pink leg was scrabbling to get a purchase on the edge of the bubble in order to climb back inside. It was a comical sight and Kitzinger was forced to stop herself laughing as she began to hiccup the liquid in her lungs.
She dived underneath the soft egg and, cradling the child’s foot in her arms, explored the tear in the surface of the sac. If it had torn prematurely it would be necessary to tuck the child’s leg back inside and seal it so that the child’s development could continue without further discomfort.
Kitzinger peered through the transparent wall of the egg. The child’s skin was pink. The wiry red veins that had been visible until a few weeks ago had now disappeared and her wings had grown their first feathers. The girl looked as fit and strong as any four-year-old. Her eyes were screwed up tightly above her hooked beak. Her brow was heavy and tensed, a grumpy Neanderthal expression on her face. Kitzinger smiled in welcome at the little brutish face before her.
The split frayed and widened in her fingers. The egg was decaying naturally, its job done. The child’s awkward unconscious movements were freeing her from her first home. The little girl kicked out as Kitzinger ran a hand over her leg. Kitzinger recoiled in the water.
My, this child is strong, she told herself.
The small tear split wide open and, without warning, the girl dropped out of the sac and into a startled Kitzinger’s arms. It all happened so quickly that the girl had wrapped herself around Kitzinger before she had realized what had happened. The little girl’s wings opened suddenly, blocking out the light, their span wide for such a tiny creature. Kitzinger felt a thrill of emotion rush through her with the simple pleasure of being present at the birth of another person. She let out a small cry of emotion, the sound echoing around her head.
They floated in the dark, ribbed tunnels for a few minutes. Kitzinger could feel the child’s heart pounding against her chest, and she waited until it began to slow as the child adjusted to this new environment and to her first contact with another.
Slowly, and with some regret, Kitzinger made her way out of the dark Bloom and up towards the surface of the pool. She swam slowly, one-handed, holding on to the child with the other. It would be necessary to leave the girl in the shallows so that Kitzinger could attend to the remaining children in the Eight. It was important that the children should begin their lives in each other’s company and not form a relationship with her.
Kitzinger saw the dark figures lining the poolside from a few metres below the surface. She frowned, her body tensing without her knowing