Page 56 of Fresh Flesh

Maisie

The months pass,and my little baby bump grows larger and larger. Now it’s obvious to anyone that I’m very, very pregnant.

No one says a word to anyone at the Vegas farm about it, either. I know that the other Grens at least suspect the child I’m carrying belongs to Lurg, Mlarx, or Joras. But they know better than to let their tongues grow loose about the matter.

Today, I’m sitting in our living space, with knitting needles and twine, trying to make a onesie for the child that’s coming sooner than anyone seems to think. I’m having a hell of a time of it, too. When I was growing up in Oklahoma, my grandma tried to show me how to knit. I barely remember those lessons at all now, and I know that it looks like utter crap.

Lurg comes into the living room and frowns at me.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m knitting, or rather, I’m trying to knit.” I sigh as I hold up the attempt at a onesie. One leg is twice the length of the other, and the whole thing is so deformed and bloated it looks like the perfect onesie…for a football.

“What is that supposed to be?”

“Clothing for the baby, so it doesn’t get cold.”

His eyes widen.

“Oh no. I had not considered…the baby will need things, yes?”

“Yes,” I say carefully. “Clothes are just part of it. It will also need a crib, and diapers, and powder, and loads of other things that I just don't know how to get, or make.”

My voice has a slight tremble to it. I hadn’t realized how anxious I really was about the baby coming soon. Now I realize how woefully unprepared we are, and I feel even more anxious. In fact, I’m downright terrified.

I start to weep, covering my face with my hands. Lurg falls all over himself trying to comfort me.

“Maisie? What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

“I’m so worried,” I say between sobs. “I’m so afraid. And the baby needs so much…”

He holds me, his strong arms gentle and warm. At length I finish my crying fit and feel better. Some of my mood swings are no doubt hormonal, but I’m pretty sure I have legit cause for concern.

“How do we acquire the things the baby needs?” he asks.

“In human society, before we got conquered, we would hold something called a ‘baby shower’ and your friends and family would ‘shower’ you with gifts. Or, you could go and buy what you needed. Now I’m not so sure.”

His eyes brighten up considerably.

“I cannot help with all of your fears, but I can do one thing—I can get you everything you need for the child. We can acquire it in what used to be Las Vegas.”

“You have the kinds of things that a baby would need?” I ask suspiciously.

“Our females are rare, but they do exist, and we do have children. Grengoran children are very similar in their needs to earth children. In fact, there is a great deal of overlap. At one time, my people were cold blooded, but we evolved to be warm blooded creatures. We even drink milk from the mammary glands of our mothers.”

I start to feel a little bit better about it.

“Okay,” I say. “So, let’s go baby shopping.”

He grins, and then he assists me out to the open air shuttle. The air is crisp and clear as we fly to New Vegas, or whatever the Grengorans are calling it these days.

As it turns out, the Grens do indeed have their own shopping district. Including a maternity section. As we go through the various stores, he buys more and more things that the baby will need.

A crib, a swing, lots of diapers, and some things that a human baby would never need. Like a tooth sharpener and a scale buffer. I don’t know what our baby is going to look like. Will it have scales, or will it have skin? We’ll just have to wait and see.

When anyone asks him a question, Lurg tells them that the baby supplies are for his mate, who will soon give birth. He passes me off as his servant. There are so few female Grens on Earth that it’s not unusual to see a human slave. That’s what they take me for and I’m not about to change their minds.

In my heart, I believe that Joras is the father of my child. I have no basis for this other than intuition. However, I do admit I enjoy the three of them fighting for my affection and watching over me so closely.

When we get home, Lurg and the others help set up the nursery. Now I feel a lot better about the child. I may not be ready for motherhood…is anyone ever really ready for motherhood?...but at the least, the baby will have what it needs.

And that’s more than most children born into this conquered world can hope for.

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