Slave Race: 5/?
by Nan Smith and Linda Garick
"Let go of me!"
"You will obey me! I'm your husband."
"You aren't acting like a husband--or a father, either. A father's supposed to care for and protect his children. You want to kill the first one you've produced!"
"It's my child, and you're my wife. I can force you to terminate it, but I'd rather not. If you'll just agree peacefully, we can have another baby in six months or so..."
She pulled her arm free and faced him. "If you try to force me, Cecil, you'll have to drag me to the clinic, screaming and kicking. And if you do force me, you'll find me gone the next time you return from work. I won't live with a man who cold-bloodedly kills his children."
"Loreen, be reasonable."
"Forget it. I'll have the baby and take care of it, myself."
He laughed. "And where are you going to get a job?"
"My father will hire me."
"You think your father'll take you back?"
"I know he will--especially when I tell him the reason."
He went white. "So, you run to Mommy and Daddy with our first disagreement, eh?" His tone became nasty. "Not if I have to lock you in a closet."
Loreen backed away from him. Never, in her wildest dreams, had she envisioned this. "If you're worried about talk, just try to lay hands on me again. I'll scream so loud the neighbors ten doors down will come running. And after they get here, I'll tell 'em the whole gang had me, and every one of them was a better man than you!"
"How dare you! Have you gone crazy?"
Loreen ran to the window and pressed the control. The pane slid up letting in the cold evening air.
Cecil froze. "Wait! Don't scream!"
She waited, her eyes fixed on her husband. All the color had drained from his face. "Don't scream, Loreen!"
"Are you going to lock me in a closet?"
"Of course not. Close the window."
"I don't trust you anymore."
"Loreen, please, don't say that."
"Why not? It's true."
"Loreen, please." He took a step toward her. "Come away from the window."
"No."
"I've had a bad day, dear, and this just topped it off."
"I don't care about your day. I don't trust you."
"I've acted badly. Please, I'm sorry. Can you forgive me?"
Loreen regarded him levelly. "What about this baby?"
He hesitated only an instant. "Very well, you can keep it. I will allow it."
"Do you promise?"
"Loreen, for God's sake what do I have to do?"
"Swear on your honor that you won't hurt me or this baby."
"I swear. Loreen come away from the window, now."
Still she hesitated. Cecil's face went red again. "You still don't believe me?"
Slowly she reached up and closed the window. Cecil relaxed, shrugged and grinned, sourly. "Well, wife, I've just seen a side of you I never knew existed. You're a very determined woman and I admire you for it. Bring me another cold beer." He turned and went back into the sitting room.
**********
Chapter 6
"Lord Comishvor's coming, Ed!" Cory stood up and went over to his friend. "Ed! Listen to me! Please! You've got to snap out of this!"
Edwin didn't move. It was nearly three months now since he had heard of Loreen's death. The days had passed in a blur at first, with Cory always beside him, anxious, sympathetic, and grieving, too. But Cory recovered more quickly. Edwin had never known such desolation. He couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, and had no interest in his surroundings.
Cory grasped his shoulders and shook him. "Ed, please! Don't you understand? His Lordship's getting impatient with you! Remember what he said about our usefulness? You've got to put Lori behind you, pal, for both our sakes!"
"I can't!"
"If you don't, he's going to kill you! I saw it in his face the last time he was trying to train you. You're no use to him like this-- just another mouth to feed. And if he kills you--" Cory's voice broke. "If he kills you, Ed, I'll die, too."
That brought Ed up with a jolt. Cory was right. Painful as it was, he must snap out of it--for both their sakes.
Lord Comishvor entered the room. Cory knelt, eyes down, and Ed did the same.
"Rise, Terrans." The Jilectan's voice was remote. He drew the jeweled blaster from his holster. "Edwin, I deeply regret this..."
"M'lord!" cried Cory. "I've talked to him. He's ready to learn, now."
The Jilectan glanced coolly, then returned his gaze to Edwin. The blaster muzzle glinted faintly and the jewels studding the weapon glittered in the artificial lighting.
"It's true, M'lord," he said quickly. "I'll try to learn whatever you want to teach me. I've been stupid. Please give me another chance."
An eyebrow crawled up. "Very wise of you, Edwin. I understand grief, believe me. I have had my share of it. But we cannot let it cripple us forever. Life goes on."
"I know, M'lord." Edwin looked at the carpet. "You're right. It's time to start living again. It's just that...I loved her so much..."
"Forget her, Edwin. There are other women in the galaxy."
"Yes sir."
"You have been very lucky. Few Terran psychics are given a second chance in this sector. It would be foolish of you to throw that second chance away."
"Yes sir."
The Jilectan's tone was suddenly jovial. "Excellent. Now, Edwin... get up, Terran!"
Edwin rose quickly.
"I know of your powers of telepathy," the Jilectan continued. "You are quite talented in this area, but I would also like to know of your other abilities. Cornelius has several interesting talents, but I suspect from your aura that your range is wider."
"What do you want me to do?"
The Jilectan thrust a hand into the velvet robe he wore and drew it out again, fingers closed into a fist. "What am I holding?"
Edwin concentrated a moment. "A tenth credit, sir."
The Jilectan smiled. "Can you see the date on it?"
Again Edwin concentrated. "2160, sir."
"Excellent. You are a strong clairvoyant. Tell me, do you have the talent of precognition?"
Edwin shook his head. "I don't think so, sir."
"You never sense things before they happen?"
Edwin felt his eyes cloud with tears. "If I could do that, Lori would still be alive."
"Sooo... sooo." Comishvor placed a large, gentle hand on his head. "Quite true. I should not have needed to ask. A pity, though. Precognition is a great asset."
"Cory's a precog."
Comishvor made an abrupt, dismissive gesture. "Yes, but his talent is of such short range to be nearly useless. That raid last week--he did not warn me until ten seconds before Gorishvar's ships appeared."
"I'm sorry, M'lord," Cory said, humbly.
"Ah, well, short range is better than none." He paused, rubbing one multijointed finger over his eyebrow. "You are both telekinetics, I know. How many kilos are you able to move, Edwin?"
"I've never tested myself, sir."
"Then I shall test you now. Come over here."
Edwin went over to stand beside the Jilectan. Cory watched as Comishvor pointed to the chronometer on the bedside. "Bring the chronometer to me, Edwin."
Edwin concentrated. Telekinesis was one of his strongest talents. It took practically no effort to close his mind around the article, lift it and move it over to hover in the air before Lord Comishvor. The Jilectan took it, grinning broadly. "Excellent, my psychic, excellent!"
"Thank you, sir." In spite of himself, Edwin felt a thrill of pleasure at the Jilectan's praise.
"We will develop that talent more later. It will be of great use to me." He regarded Edwin for a moment more, then spoke again. "I feel certain that you have other talents. Do you know of any?"
Edwin considered. "Well...I learn languages very easily, sir."
"All psychics do. Is there anything else?"
"I can make people see things that aren't there--and not see things that are."
"Mind manipulation?" The Jilectan regarded him for a moment dubiously. "I have never heard of it referred to exactly as you describe it."
"Not mind manipulation, sir. I can't control what people do, but I can make illusions--which sometimes accomplishes the same thing, if they don't realize it's being done."
Another long look. Then, "Very well, Edwin, make me see something that is not there."
Edwin swallowed. He hadn't expected the Jilectan to offer himself as trial subject. "Uh... what do you want to see, sir?"
"A lovely Jilectan Lady."
Out of the corner of his eye, Edwin saw Cory grin. Illusions on a Jil? Would it be as easy as with a Terran? Could he do it at all? He could only try.
Nervously, he reached for Lord Comishvor's mind, feeling the Jilectan's powerful psychic aura. He tried to ignore it, and scanned briefly, trying to glean from Comishvor's emanations what his idea of female beauty entailed. Okay, he had it. Carefully he formed the image--a tall, slender Jilectan Lady with a wealth of pale blond hair and long lashed, violet eyes. She smiled invitingly at Lord Comishvor, one slender, white hand unfastening the top of her sweeping blue gown.
He heard Comishvor's exclamation of alarm and jumped convulsively. Instantly he released the alien's mind, allowing the image to fade.
Comishvor loomed over him, face a mask of pain and anger. He took a step forward, raising his fist.
"How did you know about her?" The question was soft, but the pirate's tone was deadly. "How did you learn of my Lady Frishville? Treacherous Terran psychic! Where have you met my Lady before? Are you taunting me! You will suffer for this!"
Edwin stepped back from the Jilectan's fury, but Comishvor reached out and grasped his arm, yanking him brutally forward. "Answer, Terran worm."
"M'lord, I didn't know! Please, I don't know any Lady Frishville. You told me to create a beautiful Jilectan Lady, and I made one up that I thought you'd like. M'lord, please..."
Comishvor let him go and turned away, staring at the bulkhead. The anger had drained from his face, leaving only the pain of memory. Beyond him, Edwin saw Cory quietly replace a large, solid paperweight on the desk.
Comishvor didn't notice. His shoulders slumped suddenly and he sat heavily in an armchair, sinking his face into his hands. Edwin cleared his throat.
"I'm... terribly sorry, M'lord. I didn't realize the illusion would hurt you."
Comishvor didn't move. "Terran psychics!" His voice was muffled. "Who would have thought that creatures of such insignificant appearance could possess such incredible abilities?"
Edwin glanced across at Cory. "Uh... would you like us to leave you, sir?"
The Jilectan waved a hand vaguely at the door. Cory went quickly across the room and opened it. The two Terrans went out, closing the panel behind them.
"Whew!" Edwin turned to his friend. "I sure messed that up!"
"I guess M'lord must have had an unhappy romance," Cory said, thoughtfully.
"I guess so. I touched his mind--just briefly, you know, to sort of get his impressions of beauty where Jil Ladies are concerned."
"I guess you hit too close to the mark for comfort. Can you let me see her?"
"Sure, I guess so." Quickly Edwin formed the image for Cory. His friend raised his eyebrows and whistled softly.
"Pretty," he remarked. "Wonder who she is, and what the circumstances were. Must have been real painful for His Lordship."
"It was sort of painful for me, too," said Edwin, rubbing his arm where Comishvor had grabbed him.
"Yeah, I'll bet. I thought you were in for it."
"So did I." Edwin grinned at his friend. "I saw you holding the paperweight. What were you going to do--beam him with it?"
"Only if necessary," said Cory soberly. "You'll learn quickly, pal, that M'lord tends to act impulsively sometimes. He usually regrets it afterwards--but sometimes his regrets are too late."
"Really?"
"You'll find out, now that you're back in the land of the living. Just at a guess, I'd say M'lord isn't an empath. Listen, what say we go to the galley for some coffee?"
"Okay."
They strode toward the lift. Comishvor's ship contained six decks and at least a hundred pirates manned it. Cory had made the acquaintance of most of them, Edwin practically none. He had been too immersed in his own misery over the past months to care.
Cory clapped him on the shoulder as they boarded the lift. "Feeling better now, old buddy?"
"Some. You were right, Cor. I needed to snap out of it."
"She was a great girl. I'll never forget her."
"Neither will I." Edwin gulped. "You know, Cor, somehow I can't envision her as being dead." He paused. "You know, all we have is the word of those two guys."
"They saw her. We didn't. If there was the slightest chance of her being alive, I'm pretty sure Comishvor would have gone after her. He doesn't like to have investments fall through, and you were an investment, Ed. I think he was about to scrap you when you came around."
"I know." Edwin swallowed. "Intellectually I know she's dead. I don't know why I keep wondering."
The lift reached the second deck and they disembarked, heading for the galley. A group of pirates went by and several called greetings to Cory as they passed. Cory raised a hand in return.
"See that guy?"
"Which one?"
"The Procyon. The one who looks like his head's exploding."
"Yes."
"That's Ch'Ving. He owes me six hundred credits now."
"Cory!"
"Aw, it's okay. He's a compulsive gambler, but I don't push him to pay up. He's a dangerous guy, I'm told."
"In what way?"
"He killed a guy who drew on him when Ch'Ving caught him cheating. He's fast for an owl--and he didn't even use a blaster."
"What did he use?"
"A knife, I'm told. He takes his gambling very seriously."
"Most Procyons do. If you're a Procyon and you don't gamble, you're nuts in their books."
"Yeah, I know. This Ch'Ving owes everyone on the ship money, and yet he keeps right on gambling."
"Sounds like potential trouble." Edwin entered the galley, Cory beside him.
The room was full people at early lunch. Cory and he got their coffee and sat down, Cory pointing out different beings to his friend.
*That guy there--the fellow with the golden curls, his name's Rufus.* Cory spoke telepathically so he wouldn't need to keep his voice low.
*Rufus, huh? Cute hairdo.*
*Yeah, isn't it? And the Procyon beside him is Ch'Pong. He's funny. You'll like him. Him and his sister, T'Frang, got caught smuggling Jil booze.*
*Yowee!*
*Yeah. Comishvor was one of his contacts, though--broke him out, and his sis, too, and took 'em in. Neither one of 'em'll say anything bad about old Comishvor.*
*I can see why. You know, I've never known any Jils, but he's not so bad.*
*He's a pirate, and we're useful to him.*
*I suppose. I know. Don't get inconvenient. He doesn't keep us around because of our sweet dispositions. And that bald guy over there is Patrick. He's a hot-tempered so and so. Watch your step with him.*
*I will. Cory, does Lord Comishvor have any wives? I've never seen any.*
*He's supposed to have one.* Cory looked uneasy. *She apparently doesn't show her face much, but I hear she's a real bitch.*
*Sh! We shouldn't even think such things.*
*I suppose not, but everyone does. They talk about 'em, too. The old lady is supposed to be a real hag, and runs poor Comishvor into the ground. He doesn't even like her.*
*Cory!*
*Okay, I'll shut up.* Cory grinned at him. "It's good to see you looking like yourself again, Ed." He spoke aloud. "I was awfully worried about you."
"Thanks." Edwin sipped his coffee. "I'm kind of hungry. What have they got to eat over there?"
"I'll go see if you like."
"I'll take a marshopper on white if they have it."
"Sounds good to me, too." Cory stood up, then froze. Ed turned.
His heart stood still. A Lady Jilectan had entered the galley. It must be M'lord's wife!
"It's Lady Gootishville!" Cory's whisper was horror-stricken. "What's *she* doing here?
Edwin jumped to his feet, along with everyone else in the galley. "Maybe she picked it up when we were talking about her!" he whispered.
"I'd've sensed her!" Cory whispered back. "I'm good at sensing eavesdropping Jils. Oh M'Gawd! Here she comes!"
The Lady was advancing toward the two psychics, and Edwin got a confused glimpse of her before he lowered his eyes. She was short as Lady Jilectans went, and her hair was a mousy, dishwater blond--not an attractive shade. Nor was she exceptionally pretty, for she had a plain, unremarkable face and a coarse, slightly pitted complexion. Somehow, Edwin had always imagined that Comishvor's wife would be a more striking individual--especially after his accidental re-creation of the Jilectan's lost love, Lady Frishville.
The Lady stopped before them, and her eyes swept them both. Edwin felt a chill crawl over him. Beside him, he saw Cory drop to his knees. Quickly he followed suit, keeping his eyes down.
The Jilectan's hand seized his wrist and he was lifted effortlessly upright. An instant later Cory was on his feet, too, wrist grasped in the Lady's powerful hand. The boy stood unresisting in her hold, his face white.
"Stupid, vile Terrans!" She shook them both fiercely. "How *dare* you remind my dear husband of that... that *female*!"
Edwin couldn't restrain a yelp as pain jabbed through his arm and shoulder. Cory groaned through clenched teeth. Around them the room had fallen utterly silent. Out of the corner of his eye, Edwin saw an Arcturian slip stealthily toward the door and vanish.
Lady Gootishville shook them again. "I am waiting for your answer, Terran psychics!"
"M'lady!" Cory gasped. "Please... we were just obeying instructions. We didn't know anything about.... about Lady Fri..."
The sentence ended in a sharp cry as the Lady twisted the boy's wrist hard. "*Never* mention her name in my presence, chol worm!" She flung Cory to the floor and drew back her foot.
Edwin cried out. "Please, M'lady! Don't! It was my fault! I'm...I'm the one who reminded him of her. Cory had nothing to do with it!"
"Are you?" Her eyes fastened on him. They were a hard, steely grey color, with flicks of yellow within the iris. Hatred was mirrored in them. "You did it? You confess, chol worm? Then take the consequences!" She slapped him hard, snapping his head to the side. "I will kill you, Terran! Never again will you torment my dear Lord in this way." Another slap rocked him. His ears sang.
"Release him, My lady."
Lady Gootishville froze. Her eyes lifted to the face of her Lord, who stood in the doorway. He crossed the room with a quick, light step and caught the Lady's wrist, which was poised for another slap. "Release him. Now."
The grip of her hand on his wrist slackened, then released. Edwin stumbled back, catching himself with one hand on the edge of the table. His head spun.
The Lord and Lady faced each other for a long moment, expressions unreadable. Edwin was dimly aware of telepathic communication between them, and closed his mind to it. Then the Lady's face crumpled. Tears ran down her cheeks and she turned, pulling her wrist from her Lord's grasp.
"Go!" he snapped.
She ran from the room.
For another long moment no one moved. Then Comishvor turned to the Terran psychics. "Are you in need of medical attention, Edwin?"
Edwin rubbed his wrist. The feeling was beginning to come back, and the room had steadied. "I don't think so, M'lord."
"And you, Cornelius?"
"I'm okay, sir." Cory got shakily to his feet. "Thanks for helping out."
Comishvor didn't answer. He turned and followed his Lady from the room.
**********
Chapter 7
Corala,
June 2170
Loreen Warren sat up in bed with a muted scream. Edwin! She had been dreaming of Edwin. He had been in terrible trouble. No, he *was* in trouble! His face was before her eyes. Pain ground through her. She cried out and muffled the sound with her hand.
Beside her, Cecil turned over with a muffled grunt. Loreen got out of bed and went into the bathroom, rubbing her face. Edwin's face was still before her eyes and she could hear his voice clearly. This dream had recurred over and over since that first night it had awakened her, now nearly six months ago. At the time she had been so certain that she had heard Edwin's voice that she had gotten up and searched the apartment for him. But now she knew it wasn't so. It was only a dream. Still, even now it seemed so real!
She stood still, clutching the wash basin, and trying to quiet her pounding heart. Cecil mustn't guess. He mustn't suspect. Since the night of their confrontation over the pregnancy, he had been amiable and compliant. She must have scared him, she realized, and perhaps he now regretted his earlier thoughts and actions. When he saw the baby, he would probably accept it without problems. After all, he believed it to be his child--at least, he had never given any indication that he didn't believe it.
Edwin's voice had been silenced, and his face was gone from before her eyes. It was only a dream. That was all it had ever been. But what a vivid dream!
She drank a glass of water. She wasn't sleepy, and her back ached. According to the doctor the baby could come at any time, but he had, (against the rules) respected her wishes and placed the expected due date three weeks from now. Loreen knew, though, that the pregnancy couldn't possibly continue that long. By her own calculations she was already overdue by five days. All day yesterday she had experienced cramps. When she had gone to bed her back had ached, keeping her awake for some time. And her back still ached.
As she started to return to bed the ache suddenly intensified, spreading around her middle and into her lower abdomen. She stopped, clutching the doorframe for a moment, surprised and a little frightened. Slowly the pain subsided. Had it been a contraction? Somehow it hadn't felt like she had expected it to feel.
She waited, leaning against the doorframe, eyes on Cecil's slumbering form. It was probably a false alarm, she told herself. The first contractions weren't supposed to be really painful. It had probably been a gas pain or something.
Five minutes passed, and suddenly she felt it again, a slowly building pain in her lower back which radiated to the front, accompanied by shocking pressure. She clutched the doorframe again, waiting for it to subside. After a minute or so it did. Was labor beginning, then? If it was, she would instigate her plan. But first she must be absolutely sure.
Her hand was on her stomach, and she felt the baby stir beneath her fingers. She rubbed the spot gently and spoke softly, as though the little one could hear her. "Don't worry, little baby. Everything's going to be all right. I'll take care of you."
Cecil still hadn't stirred. Loreen crossed the bedroom and went into the sitting room. She glanced at the chronometer on the mantelpiece. 0330. Her cat, Xavier, which she had brought into the marriage with her, looked up from his perch on the back of the sofa and voiced a silent meow. Loreen touched his head and ran her fingers down his back. He started to purr, stretching luxuriously beneath her hand.
Here it came again, building quickly to a painful peak. Her back hurt terribly, like someone had a knee in it and was pushing with all his might. She clutched the couch, waiting for the pain to subside. Xavier purred, rubbing his head against her. The baby kicked against her hand again. This couldn't be false labor! It just couldn't be!
But still she waited. She must be sure before she acted. She wouldn't get a second chance.
And here came the next one. Good grief! They were only about three minutes apart. Labor wasn't supposed to be this way! The pains were supposed to begin slowly!
It was hard to endure it in silence, but she managed, clutching her belly and biting hard on her lower lip. The infant kicked hard and squirmed beneath her touch, no doubt protesting the change in its surroundings. Loreen rubbed her stomach, forcing herself to wait. The pain subsided.
This must be it, then. No false alarm could possibly be this intense. Loreen stood up, entered her bedroom again and strode toward the bathroom. Placing both hands on the small bookshelf beside the wall, she shoved it over.
It fell with a terrific crash, books sliding from the shelves and the small glass ornament on top smashing to a thousand pieces against the wall. Loreen dropped to the carpet amid the debris, feeling another contraction building within her.
Cecil hadn't moved. Loreen had been afraid of that. He was an exceptionally heavy sleeper, especially after consuming a few beers. She lay on the floor, enduring the contraction, and waiting.
When it subsided, she drew a deep breath and called out his name. "Cecil!"
No response.
"Cecil, help me!"
A muffled groan from the bed.
"Cecil!"
"Wha... ?" He sat up, a vague blur in the darkness. "Whassa matter?"
"I fell. Help me!"
"Oh Lori, for God's sake!" The lamp came on and she saw him climb from the bed, hair tousled, face flushed. "Damn! What a mess! What the hell did you do?"
"Cecil, please!"
He bent and pulled her to her feet, grunting with the effort it took. "Get back to bed. You can clean it up in the morning."
"Cecil..."
"What?"
"I..." Loreen felt the contraction building, making it very easy to feign distress. "Oh, Cecil, I think I'm having a labor pain."
"What? Don't be silly. The baby's not due for almost a month yet."
Loreen could hold back no longer. She cried out, clutching her belly, feeling the baby squirm beneath her hands.
"Loreen!" Cecil shook her. "Snap out of it! You've just had a good scare. Now get back into bed and stop being stupid."
Anger went through her at his tone, but she forced it back. "Cecil, when I fell, I hit my stomach. I think I might have done some damage. Maybe we should go to the hospital."
"No. For God's sake, Loreen, you're all shook up over this little fall. I won't take you to the hospital. They'll just send you home again. Get into bed now. I have to go to work tomorrow."
Loreen gritted her teeth, watching him climb back into bed. Well, let him think what he liked. No matter. Neither one of them were going to get much more sleep tonight.
She underestimated her husband, however. Twenty minutes later he was snoring peacefully while she squirmed in the grip of another labor contraction.
"Cecil!"
A faint groan. "Dammit, shut up and go to sleep, Loreen!"
She gritted her teeth and endured half a dozen more pains before speaking again.
"Cecil, please wake up!"
No response.
"Cecil!"
He grunted and turned over to glare at her in the darkness. "Loreen, if it is labor, you'll probably be at it all day. Let's try to get some more sleep."
She fell silent. Cecil turned his back on her and began to snore again almost at once. The chronometer's luminous face on the bedside read 0530.
Lori sat up. If he wouldn't take her, maybe she could drive herself. Still it was possible that he was right. First labors were often long and protracted ordeals. She had heard that often enough. It would be silly to rush to the hospital if there were still many hours to go.
Ouch! Drat, these hurt! Loreen stood up and clutched the bedpost again. Beside the bed the videophone buzzed. Loreen, busy with the contraction, didn't move, but Cecil turned over with a groan.
"Now what?" He pressed the button. "Hello?"
The screen lit up with the face of Loreen's mother. "Cecil, I'm sorry to wake you, but I've just been so restless. Is Lori okay?"
"Oh, hello, Alice." Cecil's voice became suddenly warm and polite. "Yes, Loreen's fine."
"She's not in labor?"
"She thinks she might be. We're sort of just waiting now to see if it stops or keeps going."
Loreen leaned past him. "I *am* in labor, Mom."
Alice took one look at her daughter's face and drew in a sharp breath. "Cecil! Get her to the hospital! What are you waiting for?"
Cecil's face twitched. "I'll take her in a couple of hours if the pains continue. For heaven's sake, Alice, trust me to take care of my own wife!"
"You take her now, or I'm coming over to take her, myself!"
Cecil's face twitched again. "Mrs. Cornwall, let me assure you . ."
Alice's face vanished suddenly to be replaced by the large, rugged features of Loreen's father. "Cecil, take your wife to the hospital, now!" His voice, reminiscent of the Viceregal Subcommander he had once been, carried the snap of command that brought Cecil upright with a jerk. His mouth dropped open.
"Move!" Gregory Cornwall roared.
Cecil gulped and nodded jerkily. "Okay, sir, maybe you're right. She *is* making an awful fuss..."
"Get going!" The viewscreen went blank.
Cecil pushed back the covers, stood up and glared at his wife. "Well, I hope you're satisfied, Loreen! You're parents must think I'm a monster."
Loreen couldn't answer. The timbre of the pains had changed, becoming incredibly intense. She was nauseated, too, and feared she might lose control. Cecil was yanking on his clothes, cursing under his breath. "Okay, you're the one so hot to get moving. You'd better get your clothes on. I'm not taking you out looking like that."
**********
tbc
