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Linnea put the baby back in the crib and helped Mira to wash, finding her some clean lab overalls to put on. She also got some absorbent film from a drawer for the residual bleeding. When she was dressed, Linnea helped her back on the bed.

‘Bleeding might go on for a few days yet. Just keep yerself changed and clean, and there should be no problem. Like I said, the placenta looks healthy enough.’

Then she showed Mira how to hold the baby in the crook of her arm and manipulate her breast so that the baby could attach its mouth to her nipple. Mira found it easy to overlook her natural modesty with the woman’s practical ways, and after several painful tries the baby began to suck.

‘Now, all yer gotta do is relax.’ Linnea laughed again. ‘Damn easier said than done. Nothing like a hungry babe working its gums to put you through the roof.’

Mira smiled through her discomfort. Something about Linnea soothed her.

‘What you gonna call this babe? Can’t be going too long without a name. Not good for your bonding. Yer got someone you c’n name her after?’

‘My sister Faja. Or her friend Estelle. They died on Araldis.’

‘What about the father? I’m assumin’ if you’re from that planet, you still choose fathers the old fashioned way.’

‘They choose you,’ she countered abruptly.

Linnea pulled a face, but was smart enough not to pursue it.

Mira stared down at the baby. The infant looked back at her, even though it was feeding, and its tiny fingers curled and uncurled against her breast. How could her child be so alert? It seemed unnatural.

Milk blew in little bubbles from the corner of the baby’s lips, and Mira thought of Vito’s solemn face and quiet manner. Her heart contracted. Linnea was right: she must name her child.

‘I’ll call her Nova. Because she is new and fresh.’

Linnea shrugged and nodded. ‘Seems to fit. Now, time to swap over.’

The galley supervisor helped her move the child to the other side, and went through the same steps. But Nova fussed, and kept pushing Mira’s breast away.

She lifted the baby so that their faces were close. ‘What is it, little one?’

The blue-grey eyes blinked with intensity, as if trying to tell her something. Mira stared into them, remembering how active Nova had been in the womb, especially in times of danger.

The next moment the doors swung open and the clinicians returned, led by Dolin. He stopped alongside the bed and held out his hands for Nova. ‘It is time.’

Mira refused to hand her over, sliding her feet onto the floor. ‘What do you want to do?’

‘I would simply paste a little trace substance in her mouth.’ He waved at the wall. ‘The nanites will transmit their analysis here, and we will be able to verify your daughter’s health and many other things.’

Mira hesitated. Did she really want to know those other things?

Nova flailed her small fists in the air, her fingers curling and uncurling again. She seemed irritated, but that was ridiculous. A newborn could not be that way.

‘Can the nanites harm her in any way? What will happen to them when they’ve done their job? Do they remain in her system? What if she is allergic to them?’

‘They are completely benign, medical-grade, and will degrade and be excreted within a short time.’

Mira sought Linnea for reassurance, but the scientists had pushed her to the back of the room.

‘Very well,’ she said. She stood on shaking legs, and pushed determinedly past the observers to stand in front of the screens. ‘But I will administer it, and you will explain everything to me as the nanites transmit.’

Dolin hesitated, glancing around the group.

Mira wondered why he’d been appointed spokes-person. Was it because they thought she would relate best to him, because of his biozoon experiences? Had they hoped to make her more sympathetic to them?

Dolin moved closer to her and produced a small tube from the pocket of his coat. Detaching a small applicator from the lid, he squeezed some paste out onto it.

Mira took it from him and held it near Nova’s mouth. The blue-grey eyes stared at her again, and the little lips pursed.

‘Come, little Nova.