Chapter Fifteen
Vil
“I don’t like this!” I paced Doc’s quarters as we reached the midway point of our journey.
Noel sat peacefully on an examination table, his little belly pushed forward and rounded. He seemed content as anything watching us with those big, dark eyes, spooky in how I could only discern that small odd ring of blue.
“Of course you don’t like this. I assume Noel likes it even less!” Doc waved a hand toward Noel, who dutifully ignored our argument in favor of fawning over his bump, which had acquired the beginnings of a calcified shell beneath it. The imaging software had my heart twisting as the little pulsing vein we’d seen a few days ago spread more and more, sending spidering tendrils of life throughout.
“Noel! Come on.” I stared at him until he lifted his head, blinking politely.
“I told you I won’t mind.” He settled his hips and smiled. “If we induce labor, it shouldn’t be too horrible if we keep the egg at the correct temperature. A day early won’t hur—”
“And what about you?” I gestured toward him and the question took him aback. “Do you want to handle that level of surgery within a day of laying?”
“Well, no. But I made that deal, so I’ll stick to it.” He shrugged. The thought of Noel being in pain brought me genuine anger and grief.
“But so soon after…” I couldn’t bring myself to call him gravid or pregnant. I couldn’t acknowledge the child that could be. I’d spent a lifetime with the understanding I’d never have something like that. And to have something like that with a creature like himself, that held all that power they revered the Progenitors for.
“Then it would be best you mind the egg while Doc sees to my surgery. You’ll be the one to do it, right?” The way Noel smiled at Doc made jealousy bubble in my stomach, settled only by his polite nod. “Good. I trust Doc. He knows what I’m like and why I’m like it. Plus, he’s capable of numbing my pain. He was even able to remove my implant without me knowing.”
That was news. I’d wondered if it’d run out of sedative at some point.
“I do and am. And you and Vil share a great deal of trauma in that department. See that he’s comforted, Vil. Though birthing and rearing a little one will certainly be emotionally and mentally challenging. Send them my way if they’re being too much. I’m doing as much research as I can on Naleucian young and making a list of things we’ll need.” Doc beamed happily. “I’m certain that we can get Noel out of this in one piece.”
But I wasn’t convinced. Roan Canthem had been a thorn in my side for near a hundred and twenty years. He’d run me out of salvage operations and levied so many fines on my ship that it had cost me several years of profits to function smoothly again. All for the sake of pride. And with Noel, I’d gained something so precious that was finally mine, something I could count on, and he’d wormed his way into that, too. “But fucking Roan? Really?”
Doc shrugged. “He said that if we did this for him, he’d drop all the pettiness.”
That had my attention.
“And?” I squinted at Doc.
“And if I kept my mouth shut about it, kept this off the record, so to speak, he’d reimburse you for the damages he cost you thirty rotations back.” Doc polished his nails on his jacket.
“That’s not my money though. This is Noel’s!” I froze when Noel snorted out a laugh. “I’ve no use for money as long as I’m cared for. File it away as a tab or something. I’m sure you’ll do right by me. After all, you have little choice if our bond is maintained.” Noel’s little self-satisfied smile made my heart warm somewhat. He was strong enough. He could do it, and he’d bear our egg. Maybe eggs, in the future, of course.
“I’ll care for you. I promise, and any young we have in the future.” I smiled and Doc patted me on the back. I was eager to keep Noel near our bed, the covers piled high and scented of us. He called it nesting, but I found it to be peak selfishness, like every minute we spent together was a little more important than the last.
“I’m sure in a dozen years or so, we could have more. Our cycles are very infrequent, as we are a long-lived species.”
“What are the odds of you being in season when I—” I nearly said fucked some sense into you , but that seemed disgusting. “Helped you out.” Those last three words fell flat.
“Claiming an omega triggers ovulation. The bite, the mating, you know? It’s in your venom. That’s why it was such a big deal to ablate omegas as soon as they matured.” Noel stretched out, his lithe features obscured by the clothing they’d given him, most of it too large and insufficient. The little peek of belly, pale and pink, transitioning to that delightful trout-freckled pearl and silver, darker gray intermingled. When it caught in the light, a sheen of rainbow shimmered across it, like some snakes I’d seen so long ago. Touching those scales, I’d learned, felt just as soft any way I rubbed them as any other snake stroked the right way, only warmer and with hearts beneath that beat for me, and as of late, they always beat in time with my own. Without asking more questions, I’d only been left to assume we’d united on some biochemical level. And as I found my hand seeking his, something mystical fluttered in it. “It helps us bond.”
“Sure looks like it.” Doc snorted and sat, spinning in his chair. “So, we arrive at port in six days. Right around his due date, best we can figure timing-wise. I’ve asked Merriel to slow down a notch, so we’re only delayed by some hours. We’ll induce in five days and it should give him a day to recover if all goes well.” Doc pulled up a hovering window on his viewscreen and twisted his lips. He pulled up the latest image of Noel’s womb, zooming in on the little mass of cells within, so disgustingly clear as he filtered away the layers to see what we’d made. Which, at this point, might as well have been the world’s tiniest gummy worm or something.
I missed gummy worms.
“And what are the chances it’ll hatch, you know?” Saying that out loud made my stomach churn and sadness flare in Noel’s eyes.
“No clue.” Doc rotated the three-dimensional image and zoomed in farther. In addition to the growing mass of our egg, I could see he had a full bladder, so I didn’t want to draw him out too long. “But I’m seeing precardiac tissue. See this little pulsing thing? When it kinks up, it’ll be the first heart, and it’s pulsing fine so far. So that’s a good indication of continuing viability. And your gametes are not related, so there’s that. Likely, you’re a chimeric clone of N01 and N02. It’s fascinating.”
Noel’s head rose, brow furrowed. “So, he is Raziel and Nirem, cloned?”
“Not exactly. He is made of tissue taken from both of them allowed to undergo parthenogenesis, a genetic recombination that some self-impregnating species do. Distant genetic cousins, as it were. But his mRNA is tragic. I really think they sh—”
“Doc! Seriously.” I rubbed a hand over my face and gave him a lingering put-upon stare.
“Fine, fine,” he said, raising his hands in supplication. “But he is stable. So, you know, Noel.”
Noel nodded, finally pulled away from his trancelike fascination with the image and his belly. And hearing all of this again, I just wanted to snuggle him into our nest and protect him. “Is there any way we can just not donate?”
Doc drummed his fingers. “I suppose if we’re willing to never dock there again. I’d be on board, you know. Hell, he may die waiting?”
“I’ll do it. It’s fine. Honestly, the space scorpion stings hurt worse than donating a heart.” Noel shrugged, and my mind spun as I realized the timing lining up meant that Noel likely was carrying when he’d been stung. I opened my mouth to say something, but Doc shot me a nasty glare.
“All is well. Progenitors are fretfully hard to damage. Physically, at least.” Doc intensified his penetrating stare that silenced me.
“Space scorpion…” The words registered with me once more, circling back around from concern to irritation. “It’s a kanoik.”
“Disagree.” Noel sat up straight. “Space scorpion.”
He had every inkling in the world that this argument would continue on for the rest of their lives if he allowed it. “Do I need to pull rank on you?”
“You specifically said there was no rank. I am under no obligation to adhere to your terminology.” His smug grin drew me in to kiss his twisted lips.
“Shut up before I decide to change that.” I grinned against his lips and nipped, inviting him for more. He lingered but didn’t progress, telling me he was accepting of the contact, but not wanting more. He’d change his mind later, though, I was sure. His scent told me he needed his mate, and his mind needed the release. I wasn’t certain when the trauma of his isolation would hit, or if it ever would, but as I pulled away, a light singing note of joy reverberated in my head. He was a creature from my own time, a different era, but so new in so many ways.
“You’re happy, aren’t you?” Noel rested his slender hands on my shoulders as I stepped between his parted legs, dangling off the side of the exam table.
“I think so.”
“Your heart is singing. I can hear it.” He slid one of his hands down to rest over one of my hearts, fingers spread. “And if you listen, you can hear mine, too.”
He moved one of my hands to his chest and I realized that cheerful note I heard ringing about us was him. Noel inhaled deeply, eyes closing as the noise grew. I wanted so badly to record the sound and hear it again and again. “Why does it do this?”
“Because our link is forming. As we grow closer, it’ll grow stronger. We can share more. I remember Nirem and Raziel rarely spoke out loud because they could communicate with their hearts so well. They’d been bonded almost a century, then.”
My eyes burned with unshed tears as I imagined the song growing. I imagined the egg maturing, what its shell would look like. What Noel would be like guarding and brooding it. I didn’t understand why it had to happen so fast, but my instincts knew. “And I promise you we’ll be that, someday. I’ll try.”
“Since I cannot tell you with my mind, I’ll insist you feed me, and we go snuggle in our space nest.” Noel grinned, and I scoffed.
“It’s just a nest.”
“In space,” he corrected. And I didn’t want him to ever stop.