Transformation Space - Marianne de Pierres [65]
That moment was something she struggled to hold on to as they shifted into a nightmare.
Geni-carriers circled Dowl station and Araldis like predators, their buffers up against the debris from the ships they’d destroyed.
Fewer escaped than I anticipated, Insignia remarked.
If Mira had not been submerged in Primo, she would have been sick. As it was, the biozoon’s nano-membrane adjusted her electrolyte balance and released an antispasmodic into her system to counteract the shock. Had we not had the benefit of imperfect shift, that could have been us. We could be those fragments of … of …
She began to sob. Not in any physical way, but in her mind, a completely sorrowful utterance triggered by the sight of the ruined ships and tiny bodies strewn about shift space.
Pitiless. The Post-Species are pitiless. Her mind dwelt on that while Insignia adopted a weaving pattern of sub-light movement. Much of the debris was caught in the sphere’s gravity, making entry and exit trajectories hazardous.
The Post-Species have contacted me. They wish us to cancel our signature broadcast, or they will renege on our arrivals permission.
Apologise to them and cease ’casting.
They wish to know more about Wanton.
Tell them that Wanton held the title Highness Most Capable of Cultivation: Tissue on the Hub world.
Mira—
Please. Mira cut short the biozoon’s scolding. This has been agreed between us. I would come back here and try. After this, you decide.
Insignia made a disgruntled sound. If there is an ‘after this’.
Mira left the buccal and took Nova to her cabin. The Primo vein had tended to all the baby’s nutritional needs as they’d travelled, and dealt with her wastes, just as it had done with Mira’s. Now, while they waited for the Post-Species answer, she had a little time to practise motherhood. She must find something absorbent to wrap Nova in, and feed her. Mira’s breasts, though heavy, were not dangerously engorged. Primo had gently massaged and drained milk from her to keep them healthy and functioning.
As she entered, her gaze fell straight on Wanton. ‘Wanton?’
Other than the faintest quiver, the Extro gave no response.
She sighed and shifted it gently to make space for Nova, careful not to touch the remaining mycose blisters. Then she laid her baby on the bed and gazed at her.
It was the first time since Nova’s birth that she had been able to sit and look at her, and she could see changes already. Her face seemed less wizened, her cheeks plumper and limbs stronger-looking. Her skin, though, was still translucent. Amazingly, in a few days she’d developed some neck control, and was rolling her head from side to side, looking around with bright eyes.
Mira was sure that ’esque babies normally took weeks to develop that kind of strength. She ran her fingers lovingly across Nova’s naked stomach, and the baby kicked her legs. Her little mouth opened wide.
You can do things already. More than I expected.
Si – Mama.
I know a little of babies, Nova. But you are different. I will have to learn. Speaking to her child in such a way seemed impossible, and yet perfectly natural. Instinct told her that little about Nova would be like a normal child. Wanton had admitted that in-vitro experimentation had occurred while she’d been captive on the Hub planet. Was her baby in some way like the Post-Species?
Nova’s grey-blue eyes watched her with intelligent interest. The level of comprehension in the baby’s expression was almost too strange to bear.
Mira – worry?
Mira shook her head and brushed her lips against Nova’s stomach, tickling her. Nova kicked her tiny legs again and made an ecstatic noise.
They played for a brief and precious time until a strong thought entered Mira’s mind: Hungry, Mama.
O-of course. She parted her robe and picked Nova up, lifting her against her chest. The infant latched on with little fuss and began to suck. It hurt for a time, but as if sensing her mother’s discomfort, she softened her grip