Page 71 of What Makes an Alien a Dad?

Chapter 23

Maya

I was lost in an ocean of pain. Swells rolled through me, one after another. Kear’s voice guided me through each and every one of them.

“Breathe, Maya. Count the breaths with me.” When the pain ebbed and the pressure eased, he’d ask random questions. “Why do you like purple? What Voranian food is your favorite? Tell me about the last holiday with your family.”

The questions were annoying. Irritating. Maddening. But focusing on the answers took my mind off the pain. At that moment, I preferred irritation to the dread of waiting for another swell of agony to hit. Lying on my back seemed to make the pain stronger, all-consuming.

“I need to move.” I gripped Kear’s hand.

He helped me up, supporting me as I shuffled across the landing pad. My gaze crossed with Hezer’s glower. Trussed up like a turkey, he scowled at me.

The echo of the latest contraction didn’t stop my giggle.

“I bet you wish you had that combat training now,” I gloated.

Kear chuckled, soothingly rubbing my back. “He wouldn’t have made it through a single day of training.”

Hezer spat a curse through his teeth. But his words drowned in the noise of two approaching aircraft.

“Finally,” Kear exhaled as one landed nearby, the other one remained hovering over the dome.

A Voranian man dressed in the uniform of a law enforcement officer hopped out of the landed aircraft.

“Professor Thormus? A speed violation has been reported...” His voice trailed off as he took in the scene on the landing platform. Hezer, tied like a hog. Me, bent over in pain, clutching my belly. Egus banging on the glass of Kear’s aircraft from the inside. “Is everything alright?” the officer asked uncertainly.

“Not even close,” Kear snapped. “Get these two clowns out of here. They’re guilty of far more violations than you could ever charge me with. And get my tablet out of my aircraft while you’re at it, will you? The rest can be dealt with later, after we get the most important Voranian baby safely out of the most precious-to-me woman.”

* * *

MY PREGNANCY LASTED for eight and a half months. The labor seemed to be taking twice as long. As pain came and ebbed, reality filtered through to me in blurry images.

At some point, an aircraft arrived and took Kear and me to the clinic. The entire team was already there, along with a bunch of other people I didn’t know. Kear organized them all with brief but forceful commands.

I was brought into the delivery room and laid on the raised hospital bed. By then, I was so tired, my legs wouldn’t hold me to keep walking around.

“Not long now,” Kear assured me as the technicians strapped wires and monitors all over my body.

The pain finally seemed muffled somewhat. Someone must have given me something for it.

Kear fussed over me. His voice, clipped and commanding with the others, turned to gentle cooing when he spoke to me.

“You’re doing great, Maya. You’re brave and strong. So strong, my beautiful girl.”

I didn’t feel strong. My legs shook. My vision swam. I just wanted to curl into myself and sleep for a few months or so. The only thing that seemed wide awake was my mouth. The longer the labor took, the angrier I felt, and the more vocal I became.

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