Coeus?

Chapter 60: ~Visit.~

Children are a pledge of partnership. The only problem lies in getting rid of them afterwards.

-Kaleid worldview

***Star-91896, Coalition Station 369***

***Gideon***

This is definitely strange. To think that such a place exists, it's like someone recreated a Star Wars setting. I am standing on a marketplace of the Coalition's space station 369 and none of the various aliens around me gives a shit about the fact that Cyla and I are humans.

This Coalition is certainly very open towards strangers. Cyla comments while being hooked to my arm. I've counted sixty-seven different species so far.

Yes, the Kaleid were boring compared to the Coalition. Even though they agreed to our teleportation node and ordered a few more, they didn't let us take a look at one of their cities.

In comparison the Coalition ambassador didn't even blink an eye-lid when we asked if some of us could visit their space station.

Cyla frowns and pulls me to another market stand. It's not like he had eyelids.

Right. The Coalition ambassador's body was an amorphous slimy mass, which can change its form according to his wishes. His preferred method of movement was changing into a slug-like shape to glide over the floor. He even left behind a trail of slime.

But to be honest I've seen enough. Can we go back now? Cyla presses even closer to me as a huge creature walks past us. It's like a mix of an elephant and a praying mantis.

Cyla, could it be that you have xenophobia? I ask with a teasing voice. Now that I think back I can see that Cyla never let her guard down when she got close to the Forlorn or Ayo. And here on the market she became unusually clingy.

Don't be ridiculous. I just don't like being around foreign creatures. There is no telling what their abilities are. Can we go back now? She denies her issues and repeats her wish.

I can't help it and poke further into the matter. But that's exactly the definition of being xenophobe. Maybe we could stay just a little while longer? I kind of like it when you are all girly and search out physical closeness. It arouses my protective male instincts, so I want to explore those feelings since they are new to me.

My eyes wander to a huge advertisement and I point the Coalition translator at it. It's a wristband which we got from the station's security when we entered the place. The translator informs me that there will be a fighter-race tomorrow.

The owner of the stall in front of us is eyeing Cyla and me with interest, so I decide to ask him about the race. Excuse me, what's a fighter-race?

The brown, stick-like creature with eight arms around its torso bobs up and down. I don't hear anything, but the translator starts generating an answer. They build small ships and fly them through a dense asteroid field. The fastest pilot wins and gets a huge amount of money.

Really? What about the ships? Are there any restrictions? I ask with interest.

Again the bobbing motion starts. Not that I am aware of. The only restrictions are to build the ship yourself. It's not allowed to be one of the standard models. The tonnage and size are limited to twenty metres. You have to access the net if you want more accurate data.

I thank the creature which I dubbed a Stickbobber in my mind. Surely they have a better name for themselves, but it's probably some kind of bobbing motion.

I hope you don't intend on joining this event. Who knows how dangerous that race could be. Cyla whispers from my side, pinching my arm with two fingers to draw my attention.

Nooo. Never. I answer, already searching the alien net for detailed information. But to my own dismay I find out that the time for applications is already past its limit.

Gideon Alvar. You are the worst of all liars. You opened a connection to the tournament website. Didn't you? Cyla huffs.

I sigh and admit my failure at hiding my access to the net from Cyla. Yes, I did. But there is nothing to worry about. It seems like joining this race isn't possible at this point in time.

I hope so! How could I tell our child that her dad died in a stupid accident just before her birth.

Exactly at that moment one of the furry, alien merchants jumps in front of us and waves some kind of meat on a stick in our faces, colliding with me and losing half of the meatballs from the box he is carrying.

The alien probably was just trying to advertise his snack to a pair of potential customers. To the merchant's misfortune the stench of the meat sets off something inside Cyla's stomach and she projectile vomits onto the alien.

I admire her skill in hitting the creature's snout, then dispersing her belly's contents over the rest of the rodent-like creature.

The merchant drops himself to the floor, crying like a dying rat while trying to get off the vomit. The entire scene causes the people around us to step back to a respectful distance. I already start fearing for the worst after a few seconds of screaming and rolling around on the floor. Maybe something inside Cyla's stomach was poisonous to the alien? I rub Cyla's back, who is still dry retching at my side. If she wasn't angry before, she'll be pissed after this.

Finally the merchant stops his exaggerated behaviour and touches himself from head to toe, or claws to be accurate. Oh! I am not hurt! The translator decodes his chirps.

No, you just caused my wife to empty her stomach because you pushed those stinking meatballs right in our faces. I explain and the translator dutifully translates my words to galactic standard.

So it's just vomit? By the trinity! I am so glad. You can't imagine how many nasty creatures are out there. I already thought I was hit with something like Valerian nerve poison or Screech acid. The alien gets to its feet and notices that all his meatballs cover the ground and are sullied with Cyla's vomit. He starts counting with his claws.

I immediately recognize the old street trick. That little rodent doesn't just look similar to a rat, he is one. It's highly likely that he rammed me intentionally to get some money out of his badly selling snack!

Too bad for him. Actually I highly recommend to wash yourself immediately. While the stomach acids of my species aren't that strong, they are still very good at removing chitinous parts from prey. Like hair and such. If you don't want to be hairless by tomorrow-

I don't have to spin my tale any further, as the alien makes a beeline for one of the cleaning areas behind one of the market stands. Several other furry aliens who overheard my explanation jump aside to avoid contact with the con-artist.

As there is nothing more to see the crowd disperses fast and I can place all my attention on Cyla who paled even further after the little incident.

She got a handkerchief from somewhere and holds tightly onto my arm. Gideon.

Yes, dear? Should I teleport us back home? I ask. She will surely want to clean herself up.

Actually... no. Get me to the hospital. Right this moment! Cyla reaches for her belly. I think my waters broke.

My eyes widen. But isn't it a month too early?!

Cyla hisses and grabs me even tighter. The baby doesn't care!

***Star-91896, Aether***

***Cyla***

Press! The nurse urges me on while the doctor observes my vitals on a separate set of instruments. Gideon is holding my hand to offer me some comfort while another contraction hits me. I would've never thought that giving birth is so exhausting. And it hurts! At times I don't even realize that I am the one who is screaming.

Gideon, I just want to die! Why isn't it coming out. I complain. Three hours of being in labour. It feels like our daughter is trying to kill me. I just want to give up.

It'll be fine. Should we cast another healing spell on you? Gideon places a hand on my forehead and smiles which gives me comfort.

You don't have to worry. The doctor pats my shoulder. Probably your extraordinary medical circumstances caused a slightly accelerated pregnancy. I never had someone who mutated while being pregnant, so I got the date wrong. It differs for people who already went through the first stages of mutation. He gestures at his instruments which tell me nothing. Your daughter is strong and healthy. We won't even need an incubator. And you just have a few problems with the first stages of delivery, but that's nothing extraordinary. There is nothing to worry about.

The next contraction starts and I press with all my might, finally feeling something come out of me. At the end I fall back on the slightly elevated bed and the doctor uses a towel to wipe away the sweat.

Good. The head is already outside. Just once more on the next contraction. The nurse's voice informs me.

I gasp in relief at the prospect of ending this torture. Maybe I'll have to reconsider the idea of having a second child.

Gideon caresses my hand and I smile at him with affection. Halfway through this entire process I got some doubts about him being a father, but having him here at my side, taking care of me, washes all those fears away.

On my next contraction I once again use all my remaining power and finally feel the huge lump inside me slipping out. My heavy breathing is drowned by the screams of our daughter. Finally.

Say hello to your daughter. The nurse places a small body, wrapped in a towel, on my chest and can't help but feel happy about seeing the crumpled face of my baby.

I support her with my free hand and try to link our minds like the book suggested. It's very important to permanently supervise a techno-mage baby. If the child's mind accelerates accidentally and spends weeks or months alone it can do untold damage to the child's mental health.

Hello Aurelia Alvar. What do you think? That name fits you, right? I cuddle the cheek of the cooing baby which finally stopped crying after feeling the warmth of my chest.

You are so lucky to have such a fine man, Cyla. Not many fathers manage to stay the entire time at their wife's side. The nurse pats my shoulder with an envious expression. I've seen many who ran away half way through the procedure or simply didn't show up.

The doctor holds one of his instruments above me and Aurelia and smiles. She's perfect. Her lungs are okay, even if she's a little early. All that's left is the afterbirth. He flips a switch next to the bed and the green shimmer of a regeneration spell envelops us.

I sigh in relief and try to shift Aurelia towards Gideon. See, that's your Daddy.

But Gideon simply continues caressing my hand which he is holding. Now the smile and lack of reaction make the whole situation a little creepy, so I poke his cheek but get not reaction.

I curse and access the net to get one of the alien news feeds. A few thoughts are enough to display a certain sport event on the delivery room's holo-screen.

... and there the unexpected outsider weaves through the obstacles like nothing, leaving the current champion behind! Whoever built this little ship was a genius! What do you think, Aenf?

Yes, Enrm. Too bad that he didn't officially join the race. Simply barging into the restricted zone wasn't just dangerous, but also against every rule. I don't think that we can reward the pilot, even if it looks like he could've won easily fair and square...

I turn my attention to the doctor. Doc, are you ready to treat a broken bone, or at least a dislocated joint?

He blinks. Always. Why?

My hand snakes around the pinkie of Gideon's left hand, which is his favoured one. Then I concentrate on the race to wait for the best moment.

... that's the last obstacle field! After this lies just open space for the outsider. He already showed that his speed is unbeatable if he can bring his acceleration to bear!...

In a split second I bend Gideon's pinkie backwards until I hear a satisfying crunching noise.

... HE HIT ONE OF THE ASTEROIDS! He could have evaded like earlier, but this time he went straight into it! I doubt that there is anything left to salvage after such a collision!

Well, I think that was to be expected. He simply didn't leave enough space for his evasive manoeuvres. Sooner or later it had to happen...

OW! Gideon pulls his hand away to hold it protectively to his chest. Finally his attention is where it belongs. What happened? My finger! That hurts as fuck! Fuck!

I smile. Ah, it's nothing compared to what I had to endure. Maybe you should stop playing games and greet your daughter, Aurelia Alvar.

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