Page 58 of What Makes an Alien a Dad?

Kear obviously didn’t put status as a priority when selecting his patients. Instead, he took those who needed him most.

“Professor Kear Umhra Thormus,” the organizer announced.

Kear took my hand, rising to his hooves.

“Do you really want me to come with you?” I whispered, feeling suddenly apprehensive as the public attention seemed to intensify tenfold. “It’s you they want to hear.”

“Everything I’m planning to say is about you. If it weren’t for you, none of it would happen.”

I climbed to my feet. As if to prove his words, the space immediately erupted into cheers and applause. The Voranians stomped their hooves in approval, creating such a racket, I wondered how the floor didn’t collapse.

“See?” Kear smiled.

As much as he disliked people’s attention, he seemed to genuinely enjoy their appreciation of me.

I smiled, awkwardly bowing my head to the crowd as he led me to the center of the stage.

“Madam Maya Gupta,” he introduced me loudly.

The cheers intensified. With a nervous giggle, I bowed once again. Despite what Kear had said, I didn’t feel deserving of all this enthusiasm. I couldn’t really take credit for my uterus being so cooperative with Kear’s efforts. But I just smiled and waved, accepting their gratitude.

A drone descended toward the stage from the upper rows. A holographic screen fanned out above it, displaying a complicated chart with a gazillion labels in Voranian language.

“The current state of our study,” Kear announced. With a few hand gestures he made some parts of the chart bigger, explaining the numbers and highlighting the difference between a normal Voranian pregnancy and mine.

He kept it short, probably mindful of me standing next to him. The moment he finished, several hands rose in the air. The assembly drone registered them, putting them into a queue for questions.

The charts were gone from the screen, and a list of names appeared instead. The first person, a woman with an armband I’d seen reporters wear on TV, rose from her seat.

“Madam Maya Gupta, what do you think about the study?”

“Me?” I glanced at Kear, and he gave me an encouraging nod. “Well, I’m happy to be here. I mean, I’m glad I’m able to help.”

A man jumped before the woman even managed to react to my answer. “What compelled you to participate in it? Money?”

Kear growled softly. But I wasn’t taken aback by the man’s assertive tone.

“Money certainly didn’t hurt,” I said. “Initially, it might’ve been my main motivation. But the more I get to know your country and your people, the more excited I am about doing something positive for the Voranians and their human spouses. It’s a good thing. And I’m happy to be a part of it.”

Another man got up when his name came up on the list. “As someone outside of the Voranian culture, will you find it difficult to part from the baby after giving birth to it?”

“I came here as a surrogate, not a future mother. That’s the state of mind I’ve been in ever since. Of course, it’s impossible not to get attached to some degree.” I placed a hand on my belly, smoothing the ache from another kick of a tiny hoof inside. “But I’m looking forward to delivering a happy, healthy baby for an expecting couple.”

“Do you know who the parents of the baby are?”

“No, I don’t...” I looked at Kear again, but he volunteered no information on that. “It depends on their contract with the study team, I suppose.”

Kear lifted his hand. “No more questions. Maya has stood here long enough. She needs a break to rest.”

Standing for a prolonged period of time was tiring, but being in the spotlight of everyone’s attention was worse. It got really overwhelming after a while.

We hadn’t made it even a quarter down the list of the people who wished to ask questions. In a rising panic, people jumped from their seats, shouting their questions at us.

“Maya, how much longer are you planning to stay on Neron after the baby’s birth?”

I shook my head. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“Will you accept Professor Thormus’s invitation to stay for another month?”

---