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132: Prologue To
Apocalypse 133: Clown's Caress
134: A New Kind Of Pain  Post: 12.26.2005Date: 09.10.2196 Time: Night Prologue To Apocalypse I know I’m dreaming, and that’s what disturbs me the most. With that knowledge firm in my mind, I don’t know whether I can’t wake up, or if I just don’t want to. I’m lip-locked with 3-43 back on the island. I’m naked and scared but he holds me gently, even as the technosites crawl throughout my body. BLINK Eoas charge me. I know I’m going to die, but JACK shoves me to one side. She’s impaled on a bonespike, her body breaking out in furious rivers of blood. BLINK I’m in bed, unclothed between cool sheets. Hairstalks slide across my bare back. I’m shivering from sensation and fear. I hear my voice ask for more. BLINK 2-85 tells me he loves me. I try to tell him the same, but I realize that my hands are around my own neck—choking me I think, at first, but then I realize that I’m only attempting to stop the bleeding. BLINK A wirewitch youngling, with many small hairstalks, stands where the ocean meets the sand. She’s crying because she’s the last one left. BLINK A warlock, above me, on top of me, metaskin moving against mine on a thin film of sweat. BLINK 2-85 again, cutting off his own hairstalk. When he hands the severed bundle to me, it comes apart into thousands of individual strands. BLINK Washing my face in a sink. Looking up, swirling blue eyes stare back at me, accusingly. Oh glitch, I’m a— I come awake hard, my whole body jerking involuntarily. Baby is awake too, doing back flips in there. Wish it’d stop that. On my glitch, that was a bad one. I’m thirsty. “…alright?” JACK murmurs beside me. She doesn’t get as much room on the bed as she used to. One hairstalk pats the sole of my foot. “I’m fine,” I whisper. “Just gonna get a drink.” “…kay.” Rolling out of bed, I’m only in my undergarments, so I slip into my cloak. It’s the fastest and easiest way to cover myself during late night water runs. Plus, I’m a complete scorchie in it. Out into the hall, past the room shea(3)va and van(9)nis share, and then into the common room. The lights aren’t off in here, just turned low; everybody knows how often I get up during the night. If it’s not thirst, it’s the baby waking me up with well-placed kicks against my ribs. Any day now, and it’ll be out. Any. Glitched. Day. The gur (dan) says I’m overdue. It’s difficult to calculate because of my memory being glitched up beyond belief, but I’m inclined to agree with her. The common room is a clash of decorating styles. van(9)nis has gone to great lengths to make sure that shea(3)va’s style—or lack of one—doesn’t interfere with how he believes their home should be decorated. Paintings, created by van(9)nis himself, dot the walls, hanging at extreme angles that somehow make a lot of sense when viewing the room as a whole. The pieces work off of each other in an unexplainable way. And then there’s shea(3)va’s contribution: a solitary sculpture in the middle of the room, right between two plain but comfortable couches. The sculpture is an unidentifiable mass of flowing stone that looks like frozen projectile vomit. It’s hideous. Everybody thinks it. Everybody knows it. Even shea(3)va. But it isn’t going anywhere, that’s for glitched sure. shea(3)va won’t answer many questions about it. I can barely look at it without feeling nauseous. Out of the common room and into a small area set aside for preparing meals. A thick circular table centers the room. Around it are storage units for utensils and other necessities. An especially wicked array of knives are fitted into hangers along one wall. The ceiling is populated with six large light fixtures. I know my way around well enough now, and I grab a cup without turning the lights on. A sink is set between several storage units. The water pours from two of the four curving tubes tied to the plumbing for the dome. Two of the tubes are for cold water, and two are for hot. Not sure why it’s necessary to have two for each. I down the first glass and pour another. Bladder’s compressed these days, so drinking this much will force me to relieve myself sooner rather than later, but glitch it, I feel dehydrated. Seems like I’m always thirsty. I keep telling myself it’ll be over soon. shea(3)va keeps telling me that it’ll be just beginning soon. Yeah, looking forward to that. What the glitch do I know about taking care of a baby? I can’t even taken care of myself. World’s too dangerous for me, let alone a helpless youngling. Gonna do my glitched best though. I’ll die before my baby does. I swear it. Walking back to my room, the baby goes active, and I realize that I’m not getting any sleep anytime soon. Best to take a walk. There’s a timekeeper on the wall in the common room, and it’s almost midnight, so I really shouldn’t be walking outside, but that’s exactly what I find myself doing. Static raises just a notch the second my bare foot hits bare ground. The sky is actually clear of clouds and pollution tonight. There’s even a sliver of the moon visible, showering grey light down on the entire city. The tops of the domes glint with haunting, silvery lights. Air temperature is cool, but my cloak provides adequate protection. The surrounding area is quiet, and I can’t see anybody out. I know there are guards on duty throughout the city, but I probably won’t see any—they’re too good at what they do. Don’t see any of the wirewitches either, though there’s one out there right now watching me. Probably 2-85. It always seems to be him whenever I’m actually looking for them. I walk. Not sure where I’m going, but maybe toward the city center, which’ll only take me a few minutes to get to. Don’t want to go to far. For safety, there are no lights on outside. But the stars and moon give me enough light to see where I’m going. Thinking about 2-85 just sets my mind adrift on all the unhandled issues in my life. I haven’t talked with 2-85 yet. About us. About. Said I let him know when I was ready. Actually, I am ready, or pretty close to ready. Just haven’t let him know yet. I see him every day, but if we talk, it isn't about him and me. He hasn't pressed. Yeah, the conversation is awkward at times, really awkward. I'm the one holding things up. I'm stubborn, I guess. (or scared) Can’t put it off too much longer. Dreams like I had today don’t help. It's been six weeks since my little confrontation with nin(9) in the Haven, and I haven’t told anybody about what she said to me. Haven't seen much of her since I stopped training with shea(3)va. For now, I'm fine with that. The less I see of her, the safer I think I am. nin(9) called me sis, as in blod (sis)! Very, very disturbing. Doesn’t make any sense. Can’t be true. Only my mind won’t let go of it. Can I really be blod (sis) with both shea(3)va and nin(9)? Perhaps my failure to grasp the implications of such a possibility are the reason I haven’t told anybody yet—even the one person who actually is my blod (sis)! Seeking out nin(9) directly is an option, but I’ve been too much of a coward to attempt it. I even have a suspicion she wants me to come to her—that she’s waiting for me. The thing is, I’m not going unless I’m armed, and I’m just too much of a target inflated like I am. Besides, I don’t want to willingly put the baby in danger like that. Not to mention myself. So, I’m gonna wait until the baby comes. Already been a month and a half, what's a few more days on top of that. A week or two after that, I’m going to find out what’s up with me having one more blod (sis) than I’m supposed to. Oh, and I need to make her tell me what I did to her. What promise I broke. Haven’t talked with Kiiziiziixii either, about her old Atharan name. So many things I’m putting off. Some of them are probably really critical too. The animosity between nin(9) being one of the most critical—it’s the one that seems to put me in the most immediate danger. (what about the warlock he’s) (very very dangerous) I know, glitch it. I know all about warlocks. At least I kept my promise to cyn(7)dar. Kept myself from being a total glitchhead. The day after my encounter with nin(9) and m(3)gan, I went and visited him at the dome he’s housed in. We sat and talked, much like we did before our failed blod (mat) ceremony attempt, drinking fruit-injected drinks. Don’t know if I explained myself well—most likely not—but at least we were talking. The majority of the time I was with him, he kept an aura of calm around him. Wrapped it so tight around him, that I could tell he was seething on the inside. He has so much power, so much anger and frustration. I find myself intimidated and more than a little scared by the raw energy he’s keeping contained. Have to admit though, that much power, that much vibrancy, is glitched attractive. Still, he’s as impatient as I am, and what he wants, he wants now. And what he wants, is me. He thought he had me, but that was really just an illusion. Nobody can lay claim to me like that, apparently. Not even now, when I know our history together. Not even now, when I know what happened between us on the island. Not even now, when I have his baby inside me. No one can claim me. Not cyn(7)dar. Not 2-85. Not Ph— (say it, angel, just) (say it) (and you’ll feel better, you can’t let go of him, so) (SAY IT!) No. Glitch it, I won’t. (you have to choose) (someday) cyn(7)dar and I sat in that common room for several hours. Talking and talking and sometimes just sitting there with nothing but silence between us. Sometimes, there was just nothing else to say. He still doesn’t understand, or maybe he’s just frustrated at how things turned out. He wants everything to be the way it was. He wants time undone. He wants it to be before. As in before syl did what she said she was going to do by leaving her people and wandering the continent till she ended up on an island, got impregnated, and then lost her memory. That kind of before. Nothing I can do about that. What’s passed is past. I told him going back wasn’t an option. He wanted to know what going forward meant, and if that there was any chance for things between us. The conversation began to sound familiar, and that’s when one of those long silences settled around us. I didn’t have answers for him, or at least any answers that were going to make him happy. So, yeah, I talked with him. He never raised his voice. In the end, he seemed to resign himself to the fact that he was going to have to start from the beginning. Even though he put a baby in me, our relationship had been reset. Neither of us are the type to take things slowly, but given our history, it’s the only thing that will allow me to keep my sanity. Whatever the case, we need to learn more about it each other. In his case, it’s learn about who this new, improved (2)syl is, and in my case it’s relearn everything I should already know. Not going to be easy for either of us. Especially since I’m not sure I want him in the room with me while I’m pushing this baby out from between my legs. Not really comfortable with spreading my legs in front of him. Again that is. We didn’t broach that subject, but it’s gonna come up soon. I’ll have to make a decision before too long. Glitch, too many decisions like that lately. Shoulda opted for the easy life, but I chose wrong. The center of the city is a cleared, flat area used for a variety of purposes, but it’s primary use is as an easy, open gathering spot for larger crowds. The area is covered with a flat, circular area surrounded by stones that have been flattened on one side to allow people to sit on them. The circular area is inset with tiles in lesh (writ)-like patterns that I find rather pretty. I sit down on one of the stones to catch my breath. Close my eyes for a second, no more, and I realize that I’m not alone. Eyes go back open, darting and scanning. Dark, but not that dark. Plus, my eyes are adjusted. There, over by that dome next to the gad (rin). A shadow moving. “2-85, is that you?” I'm shocked to find myself hoping that it's him, even though I know it's not. The shadow disappears. It didn’t move back, it disappeared, as in ceased to exist. I push to my feet, but I know it’s a futile move. Mind’s already picked up on what’s happening, or at least it’s coming up with a glitched good explanation for what I’m seeing. Photon redirectors. Don’t always work well in low light. And the only person I’ve ever met who had photon redirectors was— The air shimmers a few meters in front of me, and then he snaps into visibility. “Hey, Blue Beauty, did you miss me? I have two more secrets that I just can’t hold in anymore!” —Calamity Carl, my very own insane rivot bot stalker. |
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Post: 12.26.2005 Date: 09.10.2196 Time: Midnight Clown's Caress Glitch me, I'm in trouble. I reach for my sever-whip, but it’s not there of course—it’s back in my room where I’m supposed to be. Got no other weapons on me, and as a bonus, I'm practically naked underneath this cloak. I try to think of something I can use as a weapon, something I can throw at him, distract him while I run for help. All I have are my cloak and what's underneath. Glitch, I doubt Calamity has an aversion to having women's undergarments hurled his direction. Then again, my bloated, naked body is probably enough to stop a charging eoa, so maybe I should go for it. Out of habit, I reach for my sever-whip again. Glitch, still not there. I’m not very good at this blod (eth) thing. “Didn’t miss you,” I say. “Not a bit.” I shouldn’t, but I sit back down--what else can I do?-- exhaling, actually somewhat relieved that it’s Calamity and not some new threat. Not that there isn't a bit of fear mixed in with that curious sense of relief, but it's as if I can't quite hold onto the fear, as if Calamity is projecting a field of calm around him. Like that makes a glitched bit of sense. This bot's insane. He's stalking me, and he's been right about everything piece of bad news he's every told me. But he's never hurt me. It’s dark enough, and he’s far enough away that I can’t make out specific details other than his overall shape, but Calamity Carl’s shadow sags. “Blue, now that’s not a nice thing to say. After all I’ve done for you, is this how you’re going to talk to me?” “Done for me?” I say, raising my voice. “And what the glitch have you done for me other than be mysterious and harass me?” “Have you forgotten the droid city already? Really, Blue, it wasn’t that long ago! Must be the hormones. I saved you and your boyfriend from certain death. First from all those Slaughter Droids, and then from that other one. Do you know what that creature would have done to you? I do, and let me tell you, it would have been ugly, and hurtfully painful! Tell me you remember!” “I remember,” I say. Glitch, point goes to Calamity Carl. “But I don’t know why you did it, and that makes me not trust you.” He steps closer. All those spikes and blades on his body begin to catch starlight and moonbeams. Even though parts of his body are covered in metal, his mass looks like it’s absorbing light. As he moves, the shadows that cover him, punctuated by pinpoints of reflected light, make it look like a piece of the night sky is moving toward me. Really wish I had my sever-whip. “You can trust me, Blue,” Calamity Carl says. “I will never lie to you. Sometimes I say the opposite of what I mean, but I won’t lie to you.” I sigh. As I do, the static ramps up. Pressure in my head increases. Now I’m seeing stars of my own. “Just get it over with, Calamity,” I say. No need to ask him what he wants anymore; it’s always the same. He spews some secrets at me, then disappears. Funny story, but I’m tired of it. “So impatient!” he says, clapping his hands like a little child and shifting his feet so he’s inching toward me. “That’s close enough,” I warn. He stops and sighs loudly, sounding much like I did a second ago. He’s shaking his head, that tall crown of his waving back and forth. “You have intimacy issues, I know.” “This intimate enough for you?” I ask, pointing to my stomach. “I noticed. You don’t even know who the father is do you? Poor you.” “Actually, I do.” “Oh, then poor him.” “Glitch off, Calamity. I’m not in the mood for you.” I briefly wonder where my wirewitch watcher is. 2-85, are you seeing all this? Actually, it’d be better if he didn’t. Calamity has never hurt me, and if any of the witches show up now, things will spiral out of control pretty glitched quickly. Yeah, you stay away, 2-85. “Speaking of your boyfriend,” Calamity says, “where is he?” “He wasn’t my boyfriend, and I don’t give a glitch where he is. This isn’t why you came here, so stop stalling. Tell me your secrets and get the glitch out of Athara.” “This isn’t Athara anymore, Blue, you know that. And besides, I came here to talk to you! I missed you! Wanna give me a hug?” “Not really.” “Your loss. I’m severely huggable.” “You’re severely dangerous. You have blades and spikes all over your body. Hugging you wouldn’t be fun, just lethal.” “Just for you,” Calamity says, his smile shining suddenly in the darkness, a sliver of moon in the starry darkness of his silhouette, “I’ll retract them.” “No thanks.” “You left him, didn’t you?” “Phoenix? Yeah, I left him, but stop acting like you don’t already know all this. You know all about me. Somehow you know.” “Calamity does know so much!” he claims, then looks around, leans forward as if he’s conspiring with me, “That’s all part of the deal! I get to find out things before everybody else! And I get to know so many good secrets! Blue, if only you knew what I knew, you’d…” He trails off, and the smile disappears, and there’s a strange hint of sadness when he finishes with, “…well, I guess you probably wouldn’t like it.” “I’m sure I wouldn’t.” There’s a silence between us then. I’m not sure why I’m talking to him so calmly. Maybe I’m stupid. Maybe I’m insane. Maybe I’m just tired. Whatever the case, I’m definitely not scared of Calamity anymore. Glitch. Stupid and insane. Definitely some combination of those two. “Calamity?” I ask quietly after a few minutes of us listening to each other breathe. “What is it, syl?” He called me by name. He’s never done that before. I’m…unsettled. What does this signify? “You can tell me your secrets now.” “Okay. Anything for you!” He’s overly cheery now, even for him. Something’s wrong. Something’s upset him. Wait, why do I give a glitch? Simple answer there: I don’t. “Yes, let’s hurry, syl,” he says. “We’re about to have visitors.” I look around, and sure enough, there’s somebody coming this way. Speedily. Wirewitchily. One hairstalk. 2-85. Inbound. “Hurry,” I say, pulse racing and static rising. If 2-85 gets here and Calamity is still here, there'll be blood. “Come here,” my rivot bot pleads, his arms wide and inviting. Don’t want to, but it’ll be faster not to argue about it. I push up, walk straight to Calamity, and throw myself into his arms. Stupid and insane, yeah, I know. His blades and spikes retract silently, and I never feel them. His body is too wonderfully warm for words. His body isn’t as unmovable as I remember Aran’s being, but it’s close. “Just tell me,” I say breathlessly. “And leave before he gets here.” “syl…” Calamity whispers, his head next to mine. “Please!” I urge into his ear. I misjudge the distance in the dark and my lips brush his lobe. He shudders. “Anything for you,” he repeats. “Now, Calamity.” “First secret: You have to take them with you, or they’ll die. Every last one of them.” “Who?” “Second secret: The spark dies within twenty-four hours.” That second one trumps the first, my heart sinking. Is he saying that—? No, it can’t be true! I won’t let it be! I grab onto his thick, coated forearms. “Tell me more, Calamity! Don’t leave me like this!” “There are rules that bind me. I can’t protect you from everything, syl, and I can’t tell you too much at one time.” “Tell me where I’m going, and who I’m supposed to take with me?” “I’m not supposed to—” “Tell me my baby’s not going to die!” “We have five seconds before your current boyfriend gets here.” “Not yet!” I’m frantic to keep him here. Keep him talking. Calamity Carl’s eyes flash briefly despite the darkness. “I can’t tell you anything else, but I can do one thing for you. It’s not much, but it will help.” “What is it?” “This.” A hand on my belly. I recoil because it’s his bare hand on my bare skin. I push him away, but then I’m pushing at nothing and my cloak is fluttering closed. Once again, Calamity Carl has vanished in an instant, and there’s nothing I can do but dread the time he’ll un-vanish himself right back into my life. 2-85 is beside me. “syl, are you okay? I thought I saw—” “Saw what?” I ask, my hands going to my belly, where a curious tingling is tracking across my skin. Did 2-85 really not see Calamity? Does he have a way to hide himself from the wirewitches? 2-85 looks around. “You looked like you were—what are you doing out here at night?” Unsteady, I waddle over to a stone bench and sit down, my insides tightening in a way I’ve never felt before. “Oh wow, that’s an easy one. At least it is now.” Static’s rising. Muscles contracting. I struggle for breath, trying to inhale, forcing even exhales, find my focus. “What do you mean?” he asks, positioning his body directly in front of me, leaning into my face. I stare directly into his eyes, which are somehow illuminated, and say, “I’m going into labor.” |
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Post: 12.26.2005 Date: 09.11.2196 Time: Morning A New Kind Of Pain Hour 23: 00:46 - 00:59 2-85 is as shocked at my words as I am, because he stands there without saying anything, and even in those pupil-less eyes, I can see disbelief. “Are you sure?” he asks. His hairstalk has gone completely still. I’m doing my breathing thing, but I can still talk. “I guess it could be a false alarm, but I’m pretty sure that my uterus is contracting.” “Tell me what you need, syl.” “I’ll be fine. Give me a minute until it stops, and then we can walk back.” Nice, regulated breaths. I don’t have much to focus on other than 2-85, so I do just that. I stare, and he stares back. What are you thinking? What’s behind those big blue spheres of yours? They’re torrents of technosite rivers, 2-85, and I can’t read you. Heh, probably just thinking that the blue-haired girl in front of you still hasn’t talked to you like she promised to do. You think she’s toying with you, don’t you? That’s not it, you know. She’s just confused. Don’t give up on her just yet. I blow out a big breath as the contraction ends. That feels better. Can breathe easier now. I smile because this is it. The end of the line. Soon my baby will be out of my body. Will be nice to have my body back. Be nice to have a flat belly again. Be nice to see my toes. Be nice to not waddle everywhere like some bloated sea mammal. “You’re smiling,” 2-85 comments. “Yeah, I am.” I grin wider, able to let go of all my other worries because right now they don’t seem all that important. I’m going to have my baby today! Hooray! “You ready to go back now?” 2-85 asks. “Yes.” He offers me his hand, and I take it. What static there was disappears. “Thanks,” I say, but before I can stop him, 2-85 throws my arm around his neck and scoops me up. I give out a squeak of surprise. “I’ll be carrying you,” he states, his voice gravelly and serious. I scurry to close my cloak across my belly, where it’s flapped open, revealing a hump of bare flesh and my white undergarments. His arms are underneath my back and my knees. My cloak is long enough that I can’t feel his arm at my knees, and that’s probably a good thing, since I don’t really need him touching my bare legs today. “Okay, you can carry me,” I say, but I can’t hold his gaze with my face this close to his. It’s too glitched intimate. “Just this once.” He moves effortlessly, but I grab for his neck with both hands. As he walks, his hairstalk swished back and forth, brushing against the back of my arm. Stray strands of blue divide my view. I’m tired, drained, so I put my head down, resting it on his shoulder. There, the texture of his skin, and the throb of his pulse are against my forehead. I sigh, completely content for few rare moments. Sorta nice to have somebody carry me. 2-85 is strong, and I’m pressed up against quite a few of his muscles. Those technosites really enhance a person’s physique. Of course, he also has a certain level of cellular control over his body. He can heal. He can regen. He can shift his shape. I’ve seen him do all of those things. Pretty amazing. Glitched scary too. Yet, with him holding me like this, I feel safe and protected. He’s tried to witchkiss me. I didn’t like that at all. He’s tried to realkiss me. I can’t hold that against him. He’s such a contradiction. There’s no way we’re compatible. Just tell that to my mind and my body. The trip only takes a few minutes, and part of me wishes it were longer. In his arms, the static goes away. I felt safe, like nothing could ever hurt me, as long as I had my warlock protecting me. Okay, yeah, there’s something glitched up with me. Instead of setting me down at the door, 2-85 carries me over the threshold.
Hour 22: 01:00 – 01:59 I briefly debate going in to talk to JACK, or even waking up she(3)va, but ultimately decide against it. I rest on one of the couches in the common room while 2-85 waits with me, sometimes sitting, sometimes standing, always alert and tense till I tell him to either stop fidgeting or to leave the room. No contractions, so I head back to bed after a quick stop to relieve my bladder. I let my cloak slide from me, where it crumples into a pile beside the bed. Crawling in beside JACK, pushing her hairstalks off my side of the bed, I arrange my pillows until I’m comfortable and force myself to relax. A hairstalk brushes my calves and stays there—her way of making sure I’m there. Doesn’t even know she’s doing it. I drift into a rather easy sleep.
Hour 21: 02:00 – 02:59 Blackness.
Hour 20: 03:00 – 03:59 Nothingness.
Hour 19: 04:00 – 04:59 I wake up because my uterus is contracting and the baby is kicking. It’s a lethal combination that has my on my hands and knees beside the bed, clawing for my breathing technique and my focus. I find both. Only lasts a minute, and I get through it. Don’t even wake JACK up. Back in bed, back to sleep.
Hour 18: 05:00 – 05:59 Again, blackness. But I’m somehow conscious of it. I toss and turn, as if sensing a blackness in an unavoidable future.
Hour 17: 06:00 – 06:59 Dreams of pain. Dreams of blood. Dreams of witches and warlocks and rivot bots and Technomancers and con artists. Nightmares of sunshine and flowers and love and kisses and sex. I wake in a sweat, but instead of getting out of bed, I scoot backward until my back is against JACK’s. The contact soothes me, and I soon fade away again.
Hour 16: 07:00 – 07:59 I wake up. JACK wakes up, stretching and asking me why I’m on my hands and knees on the floor. I give her an irritated look. She laughs a vibrating laugh and then kneels beside me, massaging my legs, my back, and my shoulders until the contraction is over. Her mouth goes into overdrive, and she doesn’t stop talking for a good thirty minutes. I don’t mind. I like listening to her talk in her own unique rapid-fire rambling. Besides, it takes my mind off what’s happening to me. No bath this morning. No sonic shower either, but a real water shower. It’s relaxing, and I feel better and cleaner when I’m done. I struggle into my undergarments, and select a simple dress that will be easy to work with throughout the rest of today.
Hour 15: 08:00 – 08:59 I don’t eat anything. Not really in full labor here, but my digestion is getting ready to shutdown. No sense in complicating matters. shea(3)va sends van(9)nis to inform em(0) and the gur (dan) of my progress. Contractions aren’t close enough together yet for me to relocate to the medical dome, but it won’t be too much longer. Contractions are getting more intense now, and the static is intensifying to match. It’s making it more difficult than ever to concentrate on my breathing. “You’re doing fine, syl,” JACK says, squeezing my hand. I’m kneeling on the floor, my arms on one of the couches in the common room, my belly nicely suspended. “Just maintain your focus.” The contraction ends. I force a big breath in and back out. Ah, much better. “Which of us do you want with you when it’s time?” shea(3)va asks. “You and JACK. That’s it.” Yeah, let’s keep the viewing of this particular event to a minimum. No sense in carelessly adding to the number of people that have seen me naked. shea(3)va looks at JACK. A glance shared between them, but a glance is more than just a glance when it’s between two females. There’s an avalanche of data compressed in that one glance. Glitch. “What?” I ask. “cyndar,” shea(3)va says. I shake my head. “Absolutely not.” “He is the father. He does have a right to be there.” “I’m not sure I can take him being there.” “It’s the right thing to do, sis.” “Maybe. I don’t know. I’d feel really uncomfortable.” “You let him impregnate you. That’s what’s uncomfortable.” “No…well, yes, but it’s more that I don’t really remember it. Okay, I do…sort of. Still—” “At least think about it,” shea(3)va says. I turn to JACK. “And what do you think?” “My only real concern is for you, syl. He may be the father, but you haven’t exactly embraced him as such. If you are going to let him be the father, then you should consider it, but if that role isn’t his anymore, then I don’t see any reason for him to be there. He’ll just be a distraction. If he’ll make you uneasy or uncomfortable, then he probably shouldn’t be allowed in.” I let out a short laugh. “cyndar will be a distraction whether he’s in there or not.” “I don’t doubt that,” JACK says. “What would you do, if you were me?” I ask. JACK shakes her head, waves traveling down her hairstalks. Her lips spread, giving me a glimpse of those circuit-stained teeth. “I can't really say. Births are not common among wirewitches. Family is not a concept wirewitches understand. The coven is all that matters. If the father of a child was from outside the coven, he would be witchkissed." "Some help you are," I say, frowning, thinking of Die Droid Die, and what happened there. shea(3)va sits down beside me, brushes hair out of my face. “There’s another aspect of this to consider here. If you keep him out at this important event, it will probably end your relationship with him. I know him, and he’ll take it as a serious attempt by you to cut him out of your life.” “I know,” I say, thinking back to my conversation with cyn(7)dar from several weeks ago. Don’t really want to take it that far. Everything is supposed to be reset between us; we’re back at the beginning, as if we’ve just met. Still, it is his baby too… “Okay, I’ll let him in too. I owe him at least that much. Not sure what arrangement we’re going to arrive at when it comes to raising this baby, but I shouldn’t deny him the right to see his child brought into this world.” shea(3)va brightens, one-arm hugging me, her oranges mixing with my blues as she leans her head against mine. “Good girl. You’re doing the right thing. I know everything is mixed-up between you and him, but you’re pushing right past all that.” “syl’s stronger than she looks,” JACK says. “I’ve seen her be stronger than a wirewitch before.” “So have I,” shea(3)va says. Don’t agree with either of them. I’m weak, and I’m vulnerable. Even wielding my sever-whip, I still very much prey—maybe not as much prey as I am without the sever-whip, but prey nonetheless. I’m only strong when I’m with my friends.
Hour 14: 09:00 – 09:59 Still in the common room, because the couches are long enough for me to lay down on. I’m comfortable enough as long as I have pillows to arrange around me to support my belly, my back, my thighs, my head, and my arms. I spend my time resting, almost sleeping, but never quite. There’s activity all around me—mostly shea(3)va and JACK. PIIX, 7-07, and 2-85 are tasked with making sure that nobody enters this dome without permission. Normally, most domes are open to casual traffic, but since this is Athara-Meeatora that’s giving birth, extra precautions need to be taken. Whatever. It’s just me. Nobody special.
Hour 13: 10:00 – 10:59 em(0) arrives. I’m sitting up on the couch, feeling the beginnings of another contraction as she enters the common room. “Hello, syl,” she says, in that calm voice of hers. She moves in front of the couch. Her hair is windblown, but she’s tucked those two red streaks—longer that the rest of her hair—back behind her ears. Unconsciously, she checks to see if they’re still there when she notices me looking at them. Reminds me of my own similar mannerisms. Wonder if I learned them from her. She looks so wise and happy to see me that I can’t help but smile back up at her. I’m glad to see her too. I work to maintain my breathing. She senses what’s happening to me, grabbing my hand. Grateful, my fingers clamp down. That simple contact is completely soothing, and the contraction passes with less discomfort than the last one. “Thanks,” I say when it’s over. “Anything for my daughter,” em(0) says. “Are you scared?” “Maybe a little,” I say. “Don’t be. You’ll be fine. The baby is coming, and there’s nothing you can do to stop that.” My laugh is filled with more unease than I’d like. Really, I’m not that nervous, am I? em(0) brushes stray hair behind my ear. “Just keep telling yourself that it’s almost over.” “It’s almost over,” I say, and that pulls a laugh from us both.
Hour 12: 11:00 – 11:59 Everybody’s eating. I’m not. Doesn’t stop my saliva from running at the smells. Glitch them all. I smile and tell them it doesn’t matter and that I feel fine. Sucking on small blocks of ice is all I need. Yeah, right. Deep down, they’re taunting me, and they’re doing it on purpose. I just know it. G’ekks.
Hour 11: 12:00 – 12:59 Contractions are coming about every twenty minutes now according to the timekeeper on the wall. If I were having any more fun, I might explode.
Hour 10: 13:00 – 13:59 Static is getting to be a real glitch. Oh, it’s as constant as it’s always been these past few months, but now it’s spiking up right through the annoying zone, settling easily into the discomfort zone, and staying just shy of painful. The baby’s stopped kicking, not moving around as much. Probably cause its huge head is getting ready to pass through my small cervix. Yes, looking forward to that. Gonna be a whole new kind of pain. I’ll be taking some medication to help ease some of the pain. There are some that will take all childbirth pain away—just not in Athara. Lack of foresight by somebody no doubt. Still, it’s probably better that I’m semi-conscious during this whole event. My first child being born is something I can only see once. Don’t want to miss it. The static hits me hard as another contraction starts. I see little silver stars in my vision. Hurt and ouch. Hope this doesn’t get any worse.
Hour 9: 14:00 – 14:59 It’s worse, oh so much worse, and getting more worse by the contraction. Haven’t yet lost consciousness, so there is that, but I have feeling that I’m only forestalling that occurrence by sheer force of will, or maybe just plain old luck. Lady Luck, as Phoenix would say. Glitch me, didn’t mean to go there. I’ve been praying. Maybe it’s helping, maybe it’s not. I feel marginally better for having done it. Still not sure why. Still not sure who it is I’m praying to, though now’s not the time to get into the details. I know there’s Somebody, and I’m talking directly to Him or Her. Okay, not so much talking as asking to have this glitched static taken away, and to please oh please protect my baby, don’t let it die like Calamity said it would. Not many hours left in that twenty-four he mentioned. The spark dies… (noGodnoGodnoGodpleasenoGodplease) Please let my baby live. I’ll do whatever you ask of me, just let my baby be born. I haven’t descended to the take-me-instead level of prayer, but I’m very close. Almost all of me believes that my baby feels the static just like I do. It feels most everything else that happens to me, so why not the static? Why wouldn’t this horrible curse be passed onto the blue spark within me? It’s only logical. Makes sense. Is perfectly frightening. I’m harming my baby just by having it inside me! I’m supposed to be its protector, it’s sanctuary. It’s Haven. Too bad, my body, like so many other Havens, isn’t safe anymore. Sign of the times. Sign of the death’s persistent onslaught. Sign of the dawn of the grave. We all die, but some of us go sooner than others. Some even in the womb. Maybe it wasn’t like this in the beginning, but all this glitched world wants now is to kill us. Well, me first. If you have to take somebody, take me instead. Don’t let me live long enough to see my baby die.
Hour 8: 15:00 – 15:59 They’re coming every ten minutes now. em(0) has the gur (dan) visit, just to check me. shea(3)va and JACK walk me back to my room for that. I’m not ready to go to the medical dome, and I’ll be glitched if I’m going to be examined in the common room. That sculpture of shea(3)va’s is just too glitched much to take while your crotch is being poked and prodded.
Hour 7: 16:00 – 16:59 “Okay, everything looks normal, but it’s time to go ahead and move you to the medical dome,” the gur (dan) says when she comes back into my room. She’s a short, stocky woman by the name of synnea(6). She has some of the longest hair I’ve seen on a Driftling—even longer than of that Sphek member ikki(5). synnea(6)’s hair is down to her ankles, falling in cords of dark purple. She’s bound the hair in a single, massive bundle with a gold ribbon that ends in a simple knot. My mind pictures a big gold bow at the end of all that hair, but the knot she’s tied there is definitely the more practical approach, and it certainly doesn’t detract from all that glorious hair. She’s wears something I’ve never seen any other Driftlings wear except for the ones that work inside the medical dome: a loose white shirt and pants combination. The shirt is sleeveless, and the pants only come to the middle of her calves. The design on the back of her shirt is a black +, but overlaid with lesh (writ)-like writing that I don’t understand. A black belt and double-shoulder harness hang from her torso. She’s got gadgets a-plenty—most of them I couldn’t even begin to guess their use, though I have had firsthand experience with more than a few of her utensils. Soft white shoes and smooth white gloves complete her outfit, though the shoes are actually brown from the dirt outside. The lesh (writ) on her arms coils, as if she has serpents wrapped around her biceps and forearms, little serpent tails wriggling onto her knuckles and palms. Outside of her gloves, her hands are skilled and quick, smooth, but somehow tough at the same time. “It will only take me a few minutes to get ready,” I say. synnea(6) nods. “I’ll leave to go brief my staff. A room has already been prepared for you.” “Thank you,” I say as she leaves. “2-85 is gonna want to carry me,” I say to JACK, who’s been standing over in the corner. I like to have either her or shea(3)va near at all times. Makes me feel better. Helps get me through the contractions and the static. I’m afraid I’m developing some unsettling dependency issues. Gonna have to work those out after this is all over with. “And why does he think he’d be able to do that?” she asks. I struggle back into my undergarments, trying not to blush, because glitch it, I don’t have any reason to! “He’s being a little overprotective,” I say simply. “I don’t know what you told him, but he’s taking your orders very seriously.” (excellent, angel, do you think she bought that? how) (blind would she have to be to not know how he) (feels about you??) JACK laughs. “He is very intent on protecting you.” “Just like the rest of us,” shea(3)va says as she enters. She glances at JACK for confirmation, something silent passing between them. “I hear we’re taking a little walk over to the medical dome now.” “syl might want to be carried,” JACK says. “Nobody is carrying me again today.” JACK presses me. “You’ve been carried once already today?” “I meant nobody is carrying me over to the medical dome.” “That’s not an answer,” shea(3)va points out. “At least not a very good one.” “It’s the hormones. I can’t talk right.” I try to swing my legs off the bed, but my muscles don’t seem to want to lift the bulk of my belly in that manner. “Anybody want to help me off the bed?” Looks like they’re both willing to let the issue of who’s been carrying me around Athara drop because they both come over to help me up. Even though I’m done and waiting, it takes awhile to get everybody else ready to go. We’re about to step out the front entryway when we realize that there’s a crowd gathered. Wanting to get a glimpse of me in my finest hour or something glitched up like that. The wirewitches and the city guard are holding the throng back, but clearing a path would involve more force than anybody wants to use. And so, I wait with shea(3)va and JACK in the common room until the situation outside is back under control. Eventually, em(0) arrives and convinces the masses that Athara-Meeatora really wants to have her baby in the medical dome instead of the floor of a common room that contains a sculpture of partially digested food being expelled at a high velocity. Or, at least that’s what I imagine she said. Had to be something along those lines. Whatever it was, it worked. I’m moving and out the door, flanked by the wirewitches, em(0), and shea(3)va. I only have to stop two times to let contractions pass. Each time, I caught 2-85’s eyes. Now, the second time, he is definitely smiling at me. Want a ride? those eyes are asking. Glitch you, I let my eyes speak back to him. But, yeah, that’d be nice.
Hour 6: 17:00 – 17:59 My delivery room is about five meters by five meters, and I am queen and ruler of it. In the center is my throne, a bed, wide enough for multiple people, layered with white sheets and more movable parts than a Slaughter Droid. It’s neoplastic, and about as comfortable to lay on as was the deck of that boat I woke up on at the beginning of the year. There’s a couch off to the left of the bed, where I will allow cyn(7)dar to sit as I attempt to pass a baby out through my vagina. At my right hand are two wheeled stools, where JACK and shea(3)va can either hold my hand and encourage me as I give birth, or have races around me. Their choice. Stacks of equipment flank the bed against the wall, and I fully expect to be hooked up to most, if not all, of them. I’m sure it’ll all make nice bleeping and blooping noises when the time is right. There’s a movable cart over there in the corner, right next to a sink and a counter. All the lights in the room are near the ceiling, but they’re turned down to a very soothing level of illumination. Other than the light fixtures, the walls are bare. They wouldn’t give me a room with a window. Not that I wanted the ability to have other people looking in on me during this momentous occasion. A nameless assistant comes in and gives me an outfit to change into. All it consists of is a shirt, barely long enough to cover my belly. I remove my undergarments, put the flimsy thing on, and crawl under the sheet on the bed. Contractions coming every ten minutes now. Static’s been holding steady, which means that it still hurts like glitch, and I think blood vessel’s are exploding in my brain. Actually, a blood vessel exploding in my brain might be less painful, seeing that I’d be dead. So no, can’t have that happening. At least not until the baby’s free and clear of this desecrated Haven that is my womb. I’m praying for the strength to make it the rest of the way. Didn’t get much rest today, and haven’t had anything to eat. Bad combination. I feel weary all over. Can’t really go to sleep when something grabs your uterus and squeezes every ten minutes. Glitched annoying. shea(3)va feeds me ice chips while JACK massages my back and my legs. Yeah, this is the good life. Yeah, I am in hell. Get this baby out of me.
Hour 5: 18:00 – 18:59 cyn(7)dar arrives. Takes his place on the couch. He definitely wants to be up here with shea(3)va and JACK, and I’ll probably let him. For now, he stays on the couch. If he’s upset, he hides it well. synnea(6)’s staff make frowns at the number of people I’ve let in here, and they reserve some special nervousness for the presence of a wirewitch. Guess I can’t blame them, but it took a long time for my trust in JACK to develop, and I’m not going to back off of it now. Besides, we have Covenant Zero between us. None of the coven will infect anybody else while I’m still alive. JACK’s here for my comfort and protection. Getting more and more difficult to say I hate what the wirewitches are when I’m intentionally keeping them near all the time. Guess I don’t make a whole lot of sense at times. All three of them are staying with me through this. cyn(7)dar is the only one I think I could do without, but when a contraction and a static attack hit me harder than ever, I’m reaching for his hand and crying out his name. The second we’re touching, the static plummets. Even thought I’m concentrating on breathing and surviving this contraction, I’m able to turn my head and send cyn(7)dar a look of gratitude. He smiles back at me, and it’s good to see both the concern and the relief reflected there. He doesn’t know what effect skin contact with him has on me, but he looks happy to know that his presence is able to help me in some way, that he’s doing some measure of good here. Oh yes, he’s doing good. Only a few more minutes, and I’m crushing both his and JACK’s hands as another contraction starts. I can feel the static trying to break through, but my grip on cyn(7)dar keeps it at bay. I'm using him. There's a little guilt there. Not doing anything about it though. The baby is definitely low in my abdomen. Quite a bit lower than it was earlier. Won’t be long now.
Hour 4: 19:00 – 19:59 synnea(6) examines me, waving a small device over my lower abdomen. “You’re dilated,” she says. Oh, good, I always wanted to be dilated. “How far?” The wheels of the stool she’s sitting on vibrate against the floor as she pushes back, something out of alignment. “Five centimeters. You’re only halfway there.” “Glitch. I was hoping you were going to tell me I was at nine or ten.” “You’re getting there, but you still have some work to do. Are you in pain?” “Not really,” I say. “The contractions are glitched annoying, but I can handle them at the moment.” They’re nothing compared to the static, that’s for sure, and there’s nothing you can do about that. Nothing anybody can do unfortunately. As long as I can hold onto cyn(7)dar’s hand, I think I can make through this. I’ll fight the contractions; he’ll fight the static. Sounds like a cosmic arrangement to me. “I’ll check back on you in an hour or so,” synnea(6) says.
Hour 3: 20:00 – 20:59 No change in the frequency of the contractions. They’re as regular as can be, and with each one, I get a little more tired. Countless contractions, and now the pain from them is coupled with that of my weary, aching muscles. synnea(6) shoots me up with something that helps with that discomfort, then hooks me up to exactly one of the machines next to the bed. It’s basically a single device that can monitor my heart rate. Everything else behind me isn’t in working condition. Not sure if that’s because of the fall of cyberspace, or if everything is simply broken. Cyberspace access was restricted in Athara, but maybe there were exceptions for medical purposes. If this equipment was connected when cyberspace went flatline, then there’s a good chance it’s all useless now. Whatever the case, they’re keeping them around for some reason, though perhaps just in the hope that cyberspace comes back online someday. We’ll see. Don’t really remember what it was like back then, but I don’t think the world was a better place when everything was connected. Things may not have gotten all that much worse, but they certainly haven’t gotten any better. Ouch, uterus contracts, tight, tighter than ever. Really, how much longer is this gonna go on?
Hour 2: 21:00 – 21:59 Eight centimeters. Almost there. I can barely breath during contractions. Five minutes apart. Everybody’s being real encouraging and all, but part of me can’t hear them when the pain takes me. synnea(6) shoots me up again, this time with something stronger. Takes some of the edge off the pain, but has the very unfortunate side effect of counteracting cyn(7)dar’s ability to suppress the static. So now, instead of the pain from the contractions, it’s the pain of having my head sawed in half with a rusty blade. Thanks modern medicine. Glitch you.
Hour 1: 22:00 – 22:59 Nine. One more glitched centimeter and this baby can exit the building. I try to convince them that nine is close enough, and that we’re clear for launch, but nobody’s really listening to me. I try throwing in a few particularly creative invectives, but the others just smile at me and put cool cloths on my forehead. G’ekks. J’aa eaters. cyn(7)dar’s helping more than he knows, just by being here and letting me squeeze his good hand as hard as I can. He doesn’t show any pain—I probably can’t clamp down hard enough to hurt him anyway. The contractions are really really intense now, and I let everybody know it. The medication synnea(6) gave me helps with the pain, but I get out some good screams anyway, because the static is hitting me full force. “Do you need more meds?” shea(3)va asks. "I can call synnea." “No!” I say through gritted teeth. Any more of that stuff, and the static just might kill me. Please, God, let it be soon. I don’t know how much more of this I can take. It hurts. It really hurts. And if it’s hurting me this much, then it might be hurting my baby. Please. God. Help. Me! The contractions continue, unabated and endless.
Hour 0: 23:00 – 23:59 Blessed heaven. Ten centimeters. synnea(6) confirms it. I can’t even summon the strength to smile. Teeth clenched and fingers fisted. Eyes tearing up, and a serrated knife impaling my skull. I try to ask synnea(6) for something to knock me unconscious, but the words won’t form properly. shea(3)va wipes drool from my chin. “We’re here with you, syl. You can do this.” Maybe I can, maybe I can’t. Whichever it is, I’m past the point of speaking, I nod my head and concentrate on breathing. In and out. Rewind. Repeat. Loop. “Don’t push yet,” synnea(6) orders. She’s getting setup between my legs. The heart rate monitor beeps quietly to one side. cyn(7)dar on my left. JACK on my right. shea(3)va is at the foot of the bed. Two of synnea(6)’s assistants are setup behind her, ready to do her bidding. “Are you ready?” shea(3)va asks. “Glitch yes,” I growl. “Okay then,” synnea(6) says, “let’s see if we can get this baby out.” Fine by me. More than fine. There’s another contraction, and I’m focused on breathing my way through it and the static, so I miss something synnea(6) says. shea(3)va says something back: "Are you sure?" synnea(6) doesn’t answer, but there’s a curious look on her face now. Not quite concern—more like confusion. “What is it?” “Nothing, syl,” JACK says, but there’s a frequency in her voice I don’t like. Can detect it right through the contraction, right through the static. “Don’t lie to me. shea(3)va, what is it?” She has to tell me the truth. It’s her blod (sis)-ly duty. “Your amniotic sac is still intact.” “Is that a problem.” “No,” synnea(6) says. “It just means we have to break it now.” Her voice is too calm, like she’s putting too much effort into making sure I don’t know that she’s worried about something. “Don’t glitch with me,” I say. “Tell me what happened.” synnea(6) looks me straight in the eye. She’s strong and she competent, but she made a mistake. And she did it with the Athara-Meeatora. I can tell she’s thinking about potential consequences. “I scanned you with a portable device to measure your dilation. I never did a visual check. Your amniotic sac should have been broken when you were around eight centimeters. It wasn’t, so we have to do it now.” “Is that going to hurt the baby?” I ask. synnea(6) smiles, and it’s a real one. “Not at all. Listen, I made a mistake. I wasn’t as thorough as I should have been, but believe me, you’re gonna be just fine.” In denial of synnea(6)’s words, a sudden stab of pain cuts right through my medication and then I feel something give way inside me. There’s a flood of wetness between my legs, the sound of fluid flowing. Oh glitch, everything’s wet. I can feel it everywhere down there, soaking the bottom of the bed, coating my buttocks, splashing my feet. I can hear it dripping off the bed, splattering on the floor. Okay yeah, I’m guessing the amniotic sac is no longer a problem. |
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Post: 12.26.2005 Date: 09.11.2196 Time: Evening Gut Blood “I’m sorry,” I say. Glitched embarrassing. “You made quite a mess there, syl,” JACK says, looking at the floor. “Yeah, you’re gushing,” shea(3)va says, squeezing my thigh. Wonderful. “Thanks,” I tell synnea(6). “Don’t thank me,” she says, from somewhere down there, between my legs. “That was completely you’re doing. Now let’s just see if we can—” I don’t hear her complete her sentence because a static bomb goes off in my head and a truly apocalyptic contraction hits me. This isn’t the normal ramping contraction, but one that’s started in the middle of the cycle. I can’t help it, my butt comes off the bed, my whole body jerking as every muscle in my body contracts. My vision goes black, hearing goes muffled. Can’t feel my toes or my fingers or JACK or cyn(7)dar or shea(3)va. Abruptly, I’m in a world of agony, permeated with static and an utterly devastating womb-fire. There’s a loud snapping sound. Something or someone just broke. Voiceszzz bzztzzz. zzz “Oh God! What are you—?!?” zzz Thuds and impacts. ZZZ BZZT ZZZ! “She’s going to—” ZZZB ZZZ TZZZ! Heat and light. A sound…a familiar sound that I should know… zzzTHUD!zzz zzzWHAM!zzz Crashing sounds. Somebody broke something. ZZzz “Stay with her!” ZZzz zzzBBzzt “WATCH OUT! SHE’S GOING TO…!” ZZZz zzz!@4 444#!! zzzzz zzzzz Something hits the bed hard, and it’s knocked sideways. Fresh surges of pain sear into me. Then vision’s fading back in, hearing returning, I realize the pain is centering between my legs, but no, it’s farther up. My head, which seems have fallen backward, comes up. Want to see what’s going— Something forces my head to the side—almost painfully so—and I can’t see what’s going on. Wirewitch eyes. It’s JACK, and she’s so close that her face is blocking out everything else. bzZZt “Listen to me, syl!” ZZbzzz ZZZ tzzzt Movement around me. Feet scuffling. Bodies colliding. Static’s fluctuating, fading in and out, and there’s pain, oh so much glitched pain, all coming from…down there. I’m trying to reach my hands down, to feel what surely must be an open wound of some sort. Feels like I’ve been cut wide. Body’s still contracting, every cell in my brain screaming at me that something’s gone wrong. Contractions are too strong; they’re tearing me up, ripping things. Something’s horribly wrong inside me. There’s movement everywhere, around me, inside my womb. Another sharp pain, but I can’t pinpoint it, and then sudden heat and wavering light and a sound, almost like the sparking of a sever-whip, then I sense more wetness hitting me…somewhere, only this wetness has more substance to it, heavier, thicker. zkkkzzzt“OH GOD!!!” somebody screams. BzzZZZzzt!“WHY ARE YOU DOING THI—” I hear a THUD! and whoever just said that goes slient. bzzzKk kKT!! “Look at me, syl!” JACK insists, but I’m still straining, trying to pull my head away from her firm grasp, trying to see past her head. She’s using her hairstalk to block me. “You have to trust me!” zzzZZZkkk KKKt! zzzBZZZT “What’s happening?!?” I manage through constricted throat and clenched teeth. “Don’t look anywhere else but me!” JACK screams, and this time her voice grates with wirewitch frequencies. Her eyes are blurs, the swirls in them moving faster than I’ve ever seen it before. I realize that my other arm is free. cyn(7)dar’s not there, and I can’t feel shea(3)va either. They left me… More voices. bkkxxxzzTT! “…her blood!!” ZZZ zzz More heat, more light, a scream and then something wet and heavy hitting the floor with a squelch. zzKKzzt!! “Is she…oh, God!” zzzZZZ “Help me!” I scream. The pain explodes then, and the static with it. I’m screaming, and it’s primal, full of everything I can possibly put into it. I’m arching and straining against JACK, clawing at her face, fighting with every ounce of strength I have left. The whole world goes dark. Eyes are clenched tight, but then the darkness goes nova, and the world behind my eyelids becomes as bright as the sun. This is what it’s like to die. Hurts so very much. Hope my baby doesn’t feel any of this when it ends for us. Very soon now. “OPEN YOUR EYES, SYL AND LOOK AT ME!!” JACK screams at me, and her shrill, vibrating voice gets through. I force my eyes open. Static is a little less and so is the pain. They’re both still searing through me, but endorphins must be dulling them a little. “Everything is going to be okay!” Her voice is still raised, but she didn’t scream that last part. “What happened?!?” I ask, still trying to look past JACK. “That doesn’t matter now,” she insists. “What matters is you having this baby.” “It hurts,” I say, and I realize that I’m crying. Not sure how long that’s been going on. “You’re going to be okay,” shea(3)va says. I can hear her breathing hard. “cyn(7)dar and I and JACK are all here with you. We’ll get you something for the pain. cyn(7)dar?” “I’m right here, syl. I’m going to get you something. I’ll be gone less than thirty seconds.” “JACK, can you summon the rest of the coven from here? I don’t want anybody else leaving.” JACK’s mouth moves, but I don’t hear anything come out. “They’re on their way,” she says when her mouth stops moving. “They’ll be here in ten seconds.” I’m still staring into JACK’s eyes, and suddenly I don’t want to look away. I’m frightened about what I might see. “I’m scared,” I say. “I’m not leaving you,” JACK says, brushing at my forehead with her hand. I’m contracting again then. It hurts, oh it hurts worse than all the other times put together! I’m screaming when the rest of the coven arrives, and I’m still screaming when I hear cyn(7)dar enter the room. A second later, I feel pressure on my thigh. Numbness flows through my lower body and I melt back onto the bed. Even the static recedes. JACK’s head follows me, making sure I’m still looking only at her, close enough that I can only see her. cyn(7)dar here too now, holding my hand again. shea(3)va’s voice rings clear. “JACK, have one of your wirewitches get vannis. em and the rest of the Sphek need to know about this.” I hear one of the witches leave, but I don’t see which one. “I want to look,” I say. Lips feel a little numb. “I know,” JACK says. “But don’t. Just focus at me.” “Where’s synnea(6)?” I ask, my mind finally starting to process data. A pause. “She’s dead,” shea(3)va says. “D-Dead? What do you—?” But then I’m contracting again and I can’t finish with my mouth, though my brain continues: —mean she’s dead?!? “No time now,” shea(3)va says. “What matters is that she’s not delivering your baby, and I don’t trust anybody else to do it but those of us left in this room.” JACK is encouraging me, talking me through the contraction. “There’s just one problem,” a strange voice says. It’s male and young. Maybe one of synnea(6)’s assistants? Don’t get distracted, angel, just breathe! “You can do this on your own, right, dath?” shea(3)va asks, addressing him informally. “With what we have right here? Tell me right now if you can’t.” “I can do it,” dath says, “but I’ve never done it before.” “What do you mean?” shea(3)va asks. “You saw what happened,” dath says, whispering, but loud enough for me to hear. “I’m the assistant, not the gur (dan), but I know for sure that she cannot have a vaginal birth at this point. We’re going to have to get the baby out through her abdomen.” |
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Post: 12.26.2005 Date: 09.11.2196 Time: Evening Spark I’m completely numb down there. Whatever they gave cyn(7)dar to give me, it’s working. For the first time since this started, I can’t feel anything below my breastbone. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. All those contractions for nothing. They’re going to cut me open and get the baby out that way, and they’re going to be quick about it. Have to do it before the baby progresses further down. I’m scared. Really scared of what’s going on and why it’s happening. The others tell me everything’s okay, and that I’m going to be okay—just like everything—but if that’s true, then why don’t they want me to look around? Why can’t I see my own body? It’s taking every ounce of will I have to not fight JACK and cyn(7)dar, to not try and sit up, to not see the room. To not see the aftermath. synnea(6) is dead. Doesn’t make a glitched bit of sense. She was just here, and then…something happened. She got dead. Didn’t ask any more questions. Didn’t ask if anybody else decided to get themselves dead in my delivery room. Gonna leave all those sorts of questions till after I get this baby out of me. Only, it’s not really up to me anymore, since my body isn’t going to complete the task that cyn(7)dar and I assigned to it when he came to my room on the island and we got naked together. All that time, all that work, and here I am, forced to lay back, numb and useless while somebody else takes a knife to my lower abdomen, cuts a smile in me, reaches in, and pulls my baby out. What a waste of time and energy. Gonna leave a mark too. Hopefully they have the tech here to patch me up without leaving a scar. Don’t really want one where they’re gonna be slicing. They took my shirt. I’ve got a sheet draped over my upper body, but that’s it. I try not to think about who’s in the room because there’s little I can do about it. “Are you ready, syl?” shea(3)va asks, her head appearing next to JACK’s. “Yes,” I respond. I’m ready to have the baby out, but not necessarily to have my gut cut. So sure, go ahead, do what you have to. Can’t feel a glitched thing down there anyway. As long as it stays that way, I’ll make it through. “Do it,” shea(3)va says. “Talk to me,” I say, closing my eyes and trying to relax. It will all be over in a minute. “I need to picture it in my mind.” There’s pressure on my lower abdomen. Not sure which part of me is detecting that, but I can feel something. Yeah, that’s the blade being inserted, the one that’s cutting a groove in your flesh. “dath is cutting you, right…well, there,” shea(3)va says. “It’s pretty low, so it should hide easily enough once your hair grows back.” Father glitch! They shaved me. Knew they were going to, so not a shock, but glitch it anyway, I’m upset. “There’s some blood. Not a ton. Now he’s cutting deeper. Okay, he’s quick with a blade. He went right through everything. He’s though the sac now. Okay, we’re stretching your skin now, making the hole as wide as possible. dath is reaching in and…oh!” dath’s voice cuts in. “Steady! Do not stop holding her! Keep the skin stretched! I don’t care what happens, we are getting this baby out now!” “What’s happening?” I ask, searching JACK’s eyes. Her eyes have gone still, and she inclines her head, as if listening to something. shea(3)va’s voice falters. “…oh…syl…” “What’s happening?” I say, panic filling my voice. “What’s wrong?!?” “…I’m…so…” shea(3)va trails off. The next voice I hear is 2-85’s. “dath is pulling the baby from you. It’s head is out, and now one arm. And the other arm. Here come the legs. It’s out. He’s suctioning it’s mouth and nose.” I'm no longer pregnant. Weird. Really weird. The sound of my baby crying fills the room, and tears are suddenly pouring out of me. I sob. Oh God, thank you! 2-85 continues. “He’s putting a clamp on the umbilical cord. Now he’s cutting the cord.” The static flares briefly, cutting through everything, then slowly fades out, as if being drained away. “It’s a…it’s a girl,” dath says, winded, but also something else… cyn(7)dar’s gaze zips to our baby at that. Then he’s gone from me, pushing backward. He stumbles, and I hear him back into the side wall. “I want to see my baby,” I say to JACK. She’s still looking at me, her head still inclined, still listening. JACK’s eyes start moving, but slowly. “Okay, syl.” She raises up and triggers the bed controls. My torso rises, and dath holds my baby out to me. My blue spark wriggles and cries in her deliverer’s hands, but the only thought in my mind is that there is no way in glitch that cyn(7)dar is the father of my baby. Because my baby, if that's truly what she is, has metaskin. |
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Post: 12.26.2005 Date: 09.11.2196 Time: Evening The Dying (i) “No,” I say. “syl…” JACK begins. “No!” I want to shut my eyes, but I can’t—something inside me won’t let me—so I’m stuck staring at my baby. The one that’s oh so infected with technosites. I want to touch it, want to hold it. I want it as far away from me as possible. Get rid of it! (her) It’s a wirewitch! (it’s a her) No glitched way that came from me. (she’s your baby) She’s not mine! “I—I…” Words stick in my throat. The baby’s still being held out to me, cradled gently in dath’s arms. Set on a small towel, it cries, pure and loud, upset that it’s been yanked from the comfort of the home it’s known for months. Only a cold, cruel world is here to welcome it, and a mother who can’t bring herself to reach out and take it. “Somebody take this baby,” dath says. “I have to close up the incision as quickly as possible.” At first, nobody moves, and I briefly wonder if anybody will. Then 2-85 and JACK move at the same time. JACK makes twin movements with her hand and her hairstalk and 2-85 lowers his arms. JACK takes the baby from dath, pulling it to her chest and gently rocking it. Beyond my control, my eyes follow my baby’s path, from doctor to witch. Ten fingers, ten toes—they’re all there. Soft skin still slick with my fluids. While I’m staring, JACK begins to use the towel to wipe the wetness away. JACK’s hairstalks snake around from behind her, wrapping around her stomach till they’re cradling the baby securely, pressing it close to her body and the warmth of her breast. I want what she’s having. I want to hold my baby. I just don’t want that to be my baby. I look around. dath is working on my wound. The skin there is stretched and bloody and ugly. He’s inserting some cylindrical instrument in the wound. Can feel some hint of heat. He makes several passes before removing the device, then begins to work on my outer layer of skin, this time with a another device that I don’t recognize. cyn(7)dar is back on his couch, alternating between staring at the floor, at me, and the baby. The expression on his face is one of hollow disbelief. He looks as numb as I feel. shea(3)va has recovered from her initial shock enough to move beside JACK and stare in wonder at my baby. She reaches out to touch it’s arm, feel the texture there—that alien metaskin that indicates one thing. I want to cry when I see the smile break out on shea(3)va’s face. 2-85 has also moved close to JACK and the baby, but he’s intentionally keeping his distance from all of us. Not sure what happened with synnea(6), but he’s obviously not taking any chances. I see PIIX in the doorway, her back to me. No way in glitch anybody’s coming through that door. That means 7-07 was sent off to retrieve van(9)nis, em(0) and the Sphek. Oh, and there’s blood everywhere. It’s splattered on the wall, on cyn(7)dar, on 2-85, and on dath. shea(3)va looks to have escaped any splatter, unless she has some on her legs where I can’t see. I expect to see a dead body on the floor—synnea(6)’s—but it’s either been removed, or it’s down on the floor close to the bed where I can’t see. “You have a beautiful baby,” shea(3)va says, taking my hand. I don’t know what to say to that. Where can I even begin? Unraveling this is going to be…difficult. What I want to do is sleep. I want everybody out so I can sleep. Too much to handle. Just too glitched much. I’m tired, and my baby is half wirewitch. I don’t know how to react or what to think. (she’s yours) I ignore shea(3)va, don’t even look at her. I’m back on JACK. All I can think is how natural she looks holding a baby. Metaskin meeting metaskin. Brain’s not working well, so tired, but it’s starting to fire questions and accusations at me. How could this happen? This is impossible! What the glitch is going on? If cyn(7)dar isn’t the father, then who the glitch is? (been sleeping with) (wirewitches, angel) (???) “Get out,” I say, my voice cracking, my eyes tearing. “Everybody get out.” I wipe at my face, wetness streaking. I feel like glitch. Nobody moves. dath is the first to speak. “If you’re going to nurse the baby, you need to start within the next two hours. Do you know what to do?” “Get out,” I repeat. JACK leans forward, bringing my baby closer. “syl, don’t do this. This is your baby. Just because she—” “I said get out!” JACK recoils, and the baby, which had gone quiet for a minute, starts crying again. JACK begins to sway and whisper to the baby. “It’s okay, mommy’s had a hard day, but she won’t stay mad at you forever. You’re too beautiful, just like her.” Then, turning to me. “I’ll be back. You can’t push her away like this, and you can’t push me away either. I won’t let you.” With that, she turns her back to me and moves toward the door, cradling my baby with her arms and hairstalks. When she reaches the doorway, she turns to me over her shoulder and says, “I’m coming back in one hour. Your nipples better be ready.” Then she’s gone. 2-85 follows. shea(3)va leans over me and gives me a hug. I don’t hug her back. She wipes tears from my cheeks and pushes my hair back from my face. “This is a glitch of a lot to deal with. I’m here for you no matter what. I’ll be right outside the door.” I stop her before she can go, pleading, “Don’t let anybody else see me like this. Not even em. Please?” “Nobody is coming in this room,” she says, her hand going to her hip, where her sever-whip resides. I see drops of blood on the handle. cyn(7)dar looks at me wordlessly from the couch. He follows shea(3)va out of the room without saying anything, his hands on his bowed head the entire time. I submit to a final few minutes of dath’s poking and prodding and measuring, but then he leaves, lowering the lights as he goes, and I am alone. I close my eyes, wishing for sleep, wishing for release, wishing for escape. For sanctuary. Behind darkened lids, I find none. My baby is gone from me. My blue spark has died. Calamity told the truth. It’s out, and it’s dead. To me. I rejected my baby. Not it’s fault what it is. It’s mine, and… And whose? (been sleeping with) (wirewitches, angel) (???) And does it really matter? No, because I rejected it. Can’t bring myself to touch it. To hold and kiss it. To love it as my own. I know what I should do. I know what I need to do. I want to. I need to. I have to, if I want to prevent my soul from dying. But right now, I just want to sleep. To retreat from all of this. Just for a few minutes. Can I at least have that? Let me switch off my mind for a little while, and then I’ll see if I can begin to grip all of this. Let me crawl under this cold sheet and close my eyes. For a little while at least. My soul is dying. I killed part of it just now. A mother denying her own offspring. Can I get back what I lost? I think I can make things better, but… So tired. God, let me sleep. Please. Oh yes. Amen. |
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