Authors: S. L. Viehl
Tags: #Fiction, #Science Fiction, #General, #Adventure, #Speculative Fiction
“Cherijo, may I have a moment?”
I excused myself, then went with Reever to another unoccupied corner. As I looked back, Hawk began having a conversation with Alunthri, and two fascinated Jorenians who had approached them in my wake.
“I think we have another potential member for House-Clan Torin.” I looked back at Reever. “What’s up?”
“Why are you acting so agitated?”
“I’m just, uh, excited to be back where I belong.”
“If that’s so, why are you blocking your thoughts from me?”
“Because I’m thinking about killing two crew members with my bare hands.”
Duncan turned to the viewport and made a frustrated sound. “I could understand why you were blocking your thoughts on Terra. But we are among friends now, Cherijo. It isn’t necessary.”
Maybe it was time I went to find Xonea and Squilyp. “Stay here and I’ll—”
The crowd between us and the corridor door panel suddenly parted, forming a wide gap between them. I saw why, and froze.
Xonea was standing at the other end of the gap. In his huge arms he was holding a yawning, blond-haired toddler.
There she was.
“I know you think my telepathic abilities are an intrusion, but if you would only consider how they deepen our intimacy—”
She was a tiny thing. Of course the Jorenians made everyone look dinky. Her hair was so blond it was almost white, dead straight, and nearly touched her shoulders. Her features were rosy and yet not baby-pretty. No, she looked like a miniature adult.
“Uh, Duncan?” I blindly swatted at him, unable to take my own eyes away. “Turn around.”
Xonea started walking toward us. The sleepy child rested her cheek against the wide vault of his chest, making her look even smaller. Given her rapid gestation, the six months I’d spent in sleep suspension on the League ship, plus the time on Terra, she would be about a year old now.
Reever took me by the arm. “I love you, Cherijo. I don’t want there to be any more walls between us. Let me in.”
“I will, in a minute. Would you please turn around?”
“Even now you are distracted. Has someone—”
I grabbed his arms and shoved him around. He went very still. “Xonea.”
Xonea stopped a few feet away, and the entire room fell silent. “I regret I was not able to join you sooner. My ClanNiece Marel often becomes grumpy when woken from a sound sleep.”
I could sympathize with that.
“One of the disadvantages of being gestated in an embryonic chamber,” I said, my voice cracking a little. “You get spoiled.”
At the sound of my voice, the child lifted her head and looked at me.
Xonea gave me an indignant look. “She is not spoiled.”
Squilyp hopped down the gap after Xonea. “Yes, she is. In fact, she’s terrorized the entire ship since emerging from the chamber I raised her in.”
Marel reached out to the Omorr and smacked him lightly on the arm.
“She likes to hit people, too,” Squilyp said in a dry tone. “Just like her mother.”
Xonea set Marel down on her feet, and the little girl stared up at me. Hawk appeared on the edge of the crowd, distracting the toddler for a moment. He smiled as she headed straight for him, then patted the lower part of one of his wings.
“She has the same eyes as you, Cherijo.”
“Yes, she does.” I knelt down and held out my hand. “Marel?”
Marel took a couple of steps forward on unsteady legs, then looked back at Xonea. “Mine?”
“Yes, Marel.” To me, my ClanBrother said, “I showed her photoscans every day so she would know.”
The little girl pointed to me. “Mine.”
“Yes, Marel.” I’d waited over a year to hear that. “I’m all yours.”
The baby toddled over and reached up for me with her tiny hands. I carefully lifted her and closed my eyes at the feel of her slight weight in my arms. Her hair was so soft beneath my palm.
Oh God. She
was
real. “Hello, sweetie.”
“Mine mama.” She patted my cheek and gave me a delighted, four-toothed grin. Her eyes changed from green to blue. “Where been, Mama?”
My throat hurt. “I’ve been trying to get back to you, sweetie.”
Marel thought about that. “Stay now?”
“Yes, I’ll stay now. I won’t leave you again.” I turned slightly. “There’s someone else here who wants to meet you.”
She looked at Reever with a great deal of interest. “Him?”
“That’s him.”
“Mine?” She cocked her little head, then reached out her other hand.
Something incredible happened when that small hand touched Duncan’s face. The blank mask that I’d never seen him without vanished. Then he smiled.
Duncan Reever
smiled
.
Our daughter patted his cheek. “Mine daddy.”
—«»—«»—«»—
S.L. Viehl was raised and educated in South Florida, where she now lives with her two children. A U.S.A.F. veteran, her medical experience was gained in both military and civilian trauma centers.
[scanned anonymously]
[August 7, 2003—v1 html proofed and formatted by IrisBlue for ELF]
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