Chameleon Ch 43

“Where did you learn to cook?” Tom asked. As they wrapped up the meal, Rianya picked up plates to carry to the kitchen. A single sharp look, and Zalara hopped up to help her, as did Honey.

“I have my father to thank for that.”

“He taught you to cook?”

“No, after he died my mother had to do all the cooking and she was terrible.” Tom let out a chuckle. “But thank you for bringing the roast game. I can put a meal together if it doesn’t have to be fancy. It’s not what I usually do.”

“Usually you have bugs on fruit?”

“Not all humans dislike them. Some visitors ask for them.”

“How do you know? I thought you worked at the power plant.”

“I do, but word gets around. I haven’t always worked there. Just the last year, since I’ve been alone.”

Tom struggled with a dozen issues swirling in his head. The boy’s mother, the power plant, Maria Mitchell, Rianya, the language barrier, Jake himself, to name a few. Rianya returned to the table.

“I’m going to read to the girls. I can’t understand what you two are saying.”

“I’m sorry.”

“When are we going?”

“Going?”

“Leaving.”

“After dinner?”

“What you not tell me with words, I see in your body.”

“I don’t know yet.” It was the truth, technically. If her eyes had been lasers, they couldn’t have drilled harder into his brain. “We’ll talk in a minute.”

“What to talk on? When we go back to ship?” Tom stood and gave her the lightest of hugs.

“Jake, I –”

“Don’t mind me. I should get ready to work soon. Will be a busy night; all the power’s coming back on in the morning.” The man excused himself leaving Tom and Rianya alone. She sighed and sat down.

“There’s a problem,” he said touching her hand. “We can’t get back to the ship yet.”

“I not want hear problem. I must return Maria Mitchell, soon.” Her face strained to hold back a panic, her eyes wide and the pupils large and round, without a hint of the normal scalloped edge. She snatched her hand out from under his and tapped her abdomen.

“As soon as we can, we will go.”

“What wrong?” she demanded. Tom hesitated. How could he avoid upsetting her any deeper? He knew it would come to this, but he’d still not formulated an answer. What had Adams called her? A bee hive? “Just tell. I find out no matter,” she growled. Her hands clenched into fists.

“Maria Mitchell left orbit. I can’t contact anyone. Varona and I found it going to Novissimus. A Kiian ship is following, and a scout from Novissimus is on its way to meet it.”

“Why we not take shuttle?”

“We’d never catch her.”

“Someone else here can take us?”

“They’d never catch her either. They can get to the same speed but she’s half a light year out already. We’ll just have to wait until she comes back.”

“Wait? I can’t wait!”

“We’re not taking a Pegasi ship. If it were the last ship leaving the planet for the next ten years, we wouldn’t take a ride from Pegasi.”

“Kiians!”

“They’re too slow.”

“Tom!”

“It’s beyond my control.”

“No!” she yelled in her native tongue. “No, no no!”

“Lovely—”

“No!” She stood up, the chair under her scraping across the floor. “How long?!”

“I’m not sure. Sit down, Ri’. Please.” She stepped back from the table, wide eyed, fixed on his face.

“How long?” she pleaded.

“A week. Maybe two.” She began to shake; a mist broke out on her forehead, and her mouth fell open. He got up and led her back to a chair. She didn’t resist, but just sank like a deflated balloon, still round but no longer floating. Her face fell in defeat. “How about I go get you some purple tea and we’ll just stay here tonight. Try not to worry.”

“No! Purple tea bad to babies, Mosi say.”

“I forgot; I’m sorry!”

“I not talk now,” she said, transporting herself to the great room where the two girls played a hand game in front of the fire. The same spot where she’d been napping was where she landed, permanently it seemed. The anxiety in her aura vibrated intensely, stabbing him like thousands of hot needles. He found an old woolen blanket and approached her gingerly, and covered her, tucking it behind her back.

“Just sleep, Love. I’ll be here.” Tom sat with the two girls but didn’t interrupt them.

“Captain Tom,” Jake called from the kitchen room. He struggled to his feet and staggered in. Tom hadn’t realized his exhaustion until that moment.

“Jake, where is a medical clinic? A hospital?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Rianya is worried,” he stammered.

“About the baby? Why? Is she sick?”

“She’s afraid the baby might come before we get back to the ship.”

“Why does she need a hospital for that? Everyone there is sick. She’ll get sick if she goes there. That’s the last place to go.”

“Can I have a doctor come here?”

“I could send word to Katida, she can find a midwife for you, but doctors not help women have babies.”

“You know, that might make things worse,” he said, thinking about the tattooed, green woman with bedroom eyes. Rianya was crazed enough as it was without a strange woman poking and pestering her. “I’ll just try to keep her calm.”

“You can go to our power plant on the omnibus in the morning if you want to see a doctor. They don’t usually see sick people there, just hurt people. But those doctors not help babies come either,” Jake said. “If she’s not sick and not hurt, I am not sure what else to say.”

“It’ll be all right; I’m still upset about my ship. We just both need to calm down.”

“Mr. Tom, you make my home your home. My mother would have done that. She could have helped your wife with the baby.” Now there was an irony. “I have to walk to my job so I need to leave in a minute. I’ll be glad when the ‘bus is up again. And we can go to the radar shed if you want to see the new data.”

“I, uh, that’s fine. I don’t want you to be late,” he said.

“My home is yours. Eat, sleep, be warm.”

“Thank you.”

“Good bye young people,” he said, waving. They looked over at Jake, not understanding his words, but waving back just the same. “I will see you when the sun rises,” Jake said, patting Tom’s arm. He sauntered down the gravel pathway, turned at the last house, and vanished.

Resigned, with nothing to do but wait, he sat on the floor, grabbed a pillow, and decided he’d grab some sleep while it was a viable option.

“Girls, I need twenty minutes. Can you play quietly?”

“Okay, Papá,” Zalara said, coming over and hugging him, like a tonic. He kissed her on the head and relaxed, his face on the pillow, the faint fragrance of humus and herbs filling his senses. For once, nothing overwhelmed his mind. He thought of the girls, the fire, Rianya, Jake, and sleep. Then just Jake, and Rianya. The pops and snaps of wood in the firebox grew faint until he thought, and heard, nothing more.

þ

Tom awoke in the dark. The fire was gone but a handful of glowing embers invited him to stoke a few logs. Zalara had scooted up against him like a spoon, and Honey’s head was on Zalara, like a trio of dominos matching up on the floor. He slid out from under and took Zalara to the bed, then returned with Honey. Back in the room that used to be Quinaal’s pharmacy, he enraged the fire with some kindling and an iron poker.

Rianya had rustled off her blanket but still slept, albeit fretfully. She would twitch and wriggle, then would return to a calm slumber. Had there been room enough for two he would have joined her, but instead he replaced the blanket and returned to the floor. He checked his wrist watch: he’d been asleep two hours. Dawn was still an eternity away.

“Mylan,” Tom heard. He looked up and saw Rianya across an emerald meadow. She danced up to him and vanished. “Mylan, wake up.” She wanted something. He opened his eyes. Frolicking ribbons of yellow lit her face. He sat up on one elbow quickly, blinking the sand from his eyes.

“What are you doing up?”

“I can’t sleep. I think…I keep hearing something, in my head. I keep hearing in the middle of my head, not my ears.”

“What? Music? Voices?”

“I hear the sunrise.” Tom blinked hard.

“You hear the sunrise?” She nodded. “How can you hear it?”

“I don’t know. I just do. It gives me a boo-goo’ly.” He’d never heard that word before. “A funny, weird feeling, like I’m floating, and something is going to grab me, a spirit is trying to catch me. A boo-goo’ly.”

He sat up and pulled her onto his lap, realizing she was maybe twenty kilos heavier than normal. He held her close, breathing the familiar citrus and vanilla of her skin and hair.

“Do you hear birds, or the ocean? How do you hear a sunrise?”

“Maybe I am feeling it more than hearing it. I’m not seeing it.”

“It’s been a tough day. Maybe something you ate is giving you bad dreams.”

“That purple tea, I shouldn’t have that. Mosi told me the Pegasi women use it to stop a fetus from growing. He said they buy it by the kiloton. He said I shouldn’t drink it.”

“That’s probably what’s bothering you. I’ll get you some water.”

“No, I’ll just have to go outside five minutes later. Stay here, like this. This feels safe.”

He held her firmly, her head leaning against his chest. The serenity of silence, the song of the flames, the heat that bloomed around them, made it easy to forget the ship, the anger, the fear.

“I hear it again,” she whispered. “Oh, oh no, I know what it is, now.” She leaned back, breaking the bond.

“No.”

“Yes. Ouch!” she jumped. “The sunrise. It’s starting. It’s the baby.”

“Maybe some cider will help slow it down,” came an errant thought. “Is there an antidote to that tea? What stops it?” Tom’s heartrate spiked and he could hear his pulse drumming in his ears.

“I don’t want anything, not now.” Tom had to stand. Sitting was passive and unproductive and useless.

“How long?”

“I don’t know! It’s not up to me.”

“Adams would have something to stop it. Damn it all!”

“I don’t feel good. I feel sick. Tom, help me up.” Once on her feet, she fell against him, grabbing him around the waist.

“Love?”

“It hurts,” she cried. Tom moved into crisis mode, calm and sharp and steady, but there it ended. He had no clue what to do next. No clue at all. Wait. He must know something. Of course, he knew something. He knew someone else would be better equipped to help a woman deliver a baby! Rianya let out a low, loud groan and clung onto him like a bear.

“I’ll go find a doctor!”

“No! Don’t leave me alone!” Her face wrenched in agony, then it mutated into panic.

“I think you’re supposed to breathe, slowly.” She nodded. Without noticing it consciously, an odd blanket of calm wrapped him and consumed his emotions, leaving only practical application in control. He didn’t know what to do next, but he’d figure it out. He had to. At the very least, he had to appear in control for Rianya’s sake.

“Better now,” she muttered. “It’s over.”

“Over?”

“For now. The pains are coming more often and last longer and feel worse each time. It’s going to happen soon, now.”

That’s exactly what terrified him.