The Amelioration Expedition
Chapter 16
When the food was ready, Marlin had to wake Donte so he could eat. She had allowed the bowl to cool and he drank the broth first. He waited a while before eating the meat, and told her to wait an hour before eating any of it to see if he had any reaction. After an hour had passed and he was feeling no ill effects, they both began eating the meat off the bones. It had no seasoning and it was tough, but it still tasted better than fish.
Later, when she began to have a stomach ache and Donte didn't, she wondered if Mascots could eat it, but not colonists. The cramps kept getting worse until she was afraid it might have been poisonous. At the point that she was certain she would die of food poisoning, her water broke.
Donte was immediately at her side, mothering and smothering until she finally barked at him to leave her alone. He walked away and squatted by the fire, watching her.
"Why don't you get some water and heat it," she said.
He immediately took the bowls to the river and rinsed them, filled them with water and set them beside the fire. Then he put more wood on the fire.
Marlin paced between contractions and leaned against the rock groaning through the pain. Natural birth wouldn't have been her choice if she had wanted a baby. With all the technology available, here she was trapped in a cold damp cavern with not even a midwife. All she had was a male who wasn't even completely human. He was supposed to know so much about delivering babies, but he just squatted there beside the fire, watching the water get hot.
The pains were coming one after another and they were intense. She glared at Donte. "Are you just going to sit there and do nothing?"
He immediately stood and came to her. He put an arm around her waist. "Lean on me and we'll walk a little more."
"What good will that do?" she snarled.
"It's going to be all right. Let gravity assist you." His voice was calm and gentle.
She walked with him until she could stand it no longer. "Let me rest."
He helped her sit astride two smooth rocks. Let gravity assist her. It made sense, but if it was the right thing to do, then why did doctors make a woman lay on her back to deliver? Donte had delivered babies, but they weren't human babies. Was it so different when a human gave birth?
She gripped her stomach and leaned forward as another intense pain engulfed her body. She gritted her teeth and groaned.
"You're doing great," Donte said. "I think you're getting close. Let's get these wet clothes off you."
She was beyond modesty – beyond caring what happened. Her loose blouse was long and Donte went about his job in a methodical way. He examined her and stood.
"It won't be long now. When you have another contraction, go ahead and push. Cry if you want to, but take deep breaths. The baby needs oxygen."
When the next contraction began, she grabbed his arm and squeezed it as she strained. She looked at Donte. "Something is happening."
His smile was reassuring. "The baby's head is beginning to show. Keep up the good work and it will be over in no time."
Before he finished what he was saying, another agonizing contraction struck. She cried out with the pain of it. She couldn't have stopped straining if she wanted to. She grabbed Donte's shoulders and screamed as another pain pushed the baby from her body.
Donte lifted the baby so she could see it and hung it by its feet, smacking it soundly on the back. It made a gurgling noise, coughed and sucked in a ragged breath. There was a moment of silence before it wailed.
The baby's hands and feet looked blue, but the rest of her was dark red with pieces of white stuff all over her. Marlin looked at Donte. "Is she going to be all right?"
He glanced up and smiled. "She looks perfectly healthy."
He folded the umbilical cord and tied it with a piece of cloth before laying the baby in her lap. "I'll clean her up for you in a few minutes."
Donte didn't leave her side until she was resting comfortably on her back in a bed of sand he had created. Then he took the baby to the fire and used the warm water to wash her with a white cloth.
Marlin was wondering where he got the white cloth when she fell asleep. Later he woke her to feed her some warm broth. He said she needed it to provide milk for the baby, so she drank some of it. It would have tasted better with some salt and chicken. She fell asleep again.
***
Donte used the water he had heated to bathe the baby. He used a soft white cloth he had cut from his undergarments and washed a few days ago to gently clean the infant. She looked like any other baby – no different than his children had looked when they were born. He had promised to love her. That wouldn't be difficult. He spoke to her softly in the language of Bergen and she watched his face as if she understood.
He held the infant on one arm, her head resting in the palm of his hand. It was difficult to understand how Marlin could look at her and not want her. Rianne would want her. There must be other infants like this one on Oriel. What happened to people that made them no longer cherish new life? Was it an instinctive thing because Oriel was overpopulated? Were there people on Purlieu who felt the same way?
When he finished cleaning the baby, he removed his shirt and placed the baby in it. He tied it so that it held her in a fetal position. Then he tied the shirtsleeves around his neck, allowing the baby to rest against his warm chest. He couldn't keep calling her the baby. Should he name her now or would Marlin want to name her? He placed a hand over her tiny back and held her close. She was the first human baby born on Opus, but she was more than that. She was a bond between him and Marlin. In a sense, she was an envoy. He would call her Gezant.
In order for Marlin to make milk, she would need nutrients. They couldn't rely on the primates of Opus to provide them with food. The fish kept them alive, but what Marlin needed was nutrients. The placenta provided protein as well as essential nutrients. He refilled one of the bowls with water and dropped the placenta into it.
The next urgent need was to keep Marlin warm. He washed her clothes in the river and hung them near the fire to dry. When the broth was ready, he woke Marlin long enough to feed her some of it. He had no idea how she would react when she discovered what he had fed her so he decided not to tell her.
He added more water to the placenta and let it boil into more broth. Putting more wood on the fire, he sat on the ground and leaned back against the rock. Gezant lay peacefully on his chest. It would be a while before she would be ready to feed and Marlin could use the rest until then.
Donte woke to the sound of Gezant sucking on her fist. He lifted the shirt sleeves from his neck and carried her to Marlin. He gently shook Marlin's shoulder and spoke her name. She opened her eyes and frowned at him.
"The baby is hungry," he said.
For a moment Marlin stared at him as if wondering what she was supposed to do about it. Finally, she tried to sit up. He helped her and let her lean her back against his leg. When he handed the baby to her, she looked confused. He explained how to hold the baby and stayed with her until she was able to successfully feed the baby. He helped her get in a position where she could lean against the rock and then walked away to give her privacy.
***
Marlin leaned against the rock, watching her daughter suckle. One thing kept running through her mind, over and over. She was a mother. She examined the tiny hand with its perfect fingernails. The baby's fingers were pink now instead of bluish purple and her face wasn't as red. Her hair was dark and soft. She was wrapped in Donte's shirt and when Marlin pulled it back, she discovered a soft white material was bound to her by an elastic band.
Marlin smiled. Donte's undergarments, no doubt. Donte had taken care of her while Marlin slept…but then, why not? Hadn't she told him he could have the baby? He only brought her to her mother when he had no way of feeding her.
She glanced up as Donte approached with a steaming bowl. He squatted beside her and offered the bowl.
"You need to drink some more of this."
Marlin frowned. "What is it?"
"Broth," he said.
There had been nothing left of the bird but bones. Maybe he boiled those. She took the bowl in one hand and sipped it. Whatever it was, it didn't taste good. Still, if it would give her the strength to get back on her feet, she was willing to drink it.
The baby slowed her suckling as she fell asleep. She needed a name. Would Donte name her, or should she? Normally a mother would have been thinking of a name before the baby was born, but she didn't want the baby and didn't want to become attached to it.
Watching the sleeping infant and feeling the warmth of it in her arms, she wasn't sure she wanted to give it up. There was no binding contract that forced her to give her daughter to Donte; only a few spoken words. She said she didn't want the baby, and she didn't…not then. Even so, it wasn't her conversation with Donte that made her hesitate; nor was it the fact that she didn't want the baby. What gave her pause about the idea of keeping the baby was her ability to take care of it. Of course, Donte couldn't do that any better – if as well – as she could. Donte wasn't going to let having an infant to care for change his plans. If he could drag the baby all over Opus, then why couldn't she? What about the baby? How would it affect her life? It would be at least four years before she would require formal education. By that time, they would have colonies on Opus, and probably schools. She might not be able to keep up with the technology on Oriel, but did she need to if she was going to spend her life on Opus? Would she want to spend her life on Opus?
Marlin snuggled the infant close and looked at Donte as he squatted beside the fire. What if they never got out of the cavern? What if the apes held them captive, feeding them like livestock? What would they use them for?
Donte had animal genes. He couldn't produce children with humans, but could he with the apes? Would he? He thought the female ape was trying to determine whether he was a male or female. Donte didn't have hair on his face and chest, but he didn't look like a female. Was the ape considering him as breeding stock?
Donte stood and walked to the edge of the water, gazing up at the open space. Head to toe, he was the most perfect specimen of a human that she had ever seen. And yet, he wasn't human. As she gazed at him, another thought crossed her mind. Did it matter? What if aliens from an advanced planet came to Oriel and decided the humans were inferior? Was that what happened to Purlieu? Was that what they were doing to Opus?
By any definition, Donte was certainly a person. He was mortal; even if his life expectancy was quadruple that of humans. He could starve as quickly as any of them. He was an individual. The only other Mascot she had seen was the man who bowed to Donte, yet even that man recognized that Donte was different. Donte possessed honor and integrity. He was kind and generous to a fault.
Donte turned and walked to her, kneeling at her side. She met his inquiring gaze.
"Thank you for helping me. I guess you knew what you were doing after all. I guess having four children gave you a lot of experience with childbirth."
His gaze dropped to the infant at her breast. "Actually, I had eight children, but only five of them are still alive."
Of course he wasn't going to tell her about the ones that died while she was worried about giving birth. She frowned. "Did they die at birth?"
He shook his head and then hesitated. "One did, but my first son was murdered when he was only four."
Marlin caught her breath. "Who would murder a four-year-old boy?"
His gaze lifted to hers, confused and maybe a little surprised – as if she should know the answer. It took her a moment before she realized why he was looking at her like that. She shook her head.
"Grandpa didn't kill your little boy."
"No, he lived, but Captain Pacilio thought he was dead. He buried him alive."
She had heard that story. She sat up straight and lifted her chin, looking Donte in the eye. "That's a lie," she said. "He wouldn't do anything like that."
His eyes flashed a warning and his lips thinned, but he didn't respond. Probably no one had ever accused him of telling a lie. She wasn't going to sit there and let him tell her something like that. She knew her grandfather better than to believe the lies they had told about him after he was dead and had no way of defending himself.
"You beat my grandfather and shot him when he was unarmed."
Donte nodded. "I tried to get him to tell me where he buried Andras, but he laughed at me. He knew that the most painful thing he could do to me was to kill my child."
"Why would he want to do that?"
"He said Andras was a mutant. He hated me because I was responsible for the loss of his reputation. He insisted that Fontalo owned the Mascots and told me we weren't supposed to be breeding."
She frowned. "Well, they did own you, and you weren't supposed to be breeding. That was no reason for you to kill him. He was only doing his job when he came to collect the Mascots."
Donte stood and walked away from her. For a long time, he stood near the fire. When he finally spoke, his voice was controlled.
"They killed Bjorn when he was only four and Chiku died when she was four. Andras was four and I would have done anything to save him. I didn't mean to kill your grandfather. I wanted him alive because I wanted him to tell me where he buried Andras. When we found Andras, his skin was gray. I thought he was dead when Dad pulled him out of the rock pile. I hope you never know what that feels like."
He turned from the fire and walked into the darkness.
Marlin stared after him. It would be bad enough to lose three children, but all at the age of four? Andras had lived, though. He said Bjorn had been murdered. By whom, and how did Chiku die? Three of his children had died, one at birth. She looked down at the infant sleeping in her arms. Would she die in this place? The idea filled her with a dread that neared panic. Was anyone actually looking for them?
Later Donte returned with some wood and squatted near the fire. They might die here alone – three people. Did it matter if they were animals or human – or both?
"I changed my mind," Marlin said to Donte.
Donte stood and walked over to her. "About your grandfather?"
She shook her head. "About keeping my baby. I know I promised you, but…"
Donte nodded "I told you that if you didn't want her, I did. If you want her, then that conversation was pointless."
"She needs a name. I never thought about it…."
"I thought about Gezant."
She frowned at him, pronouncing each syllable. "Gezant – isn't that Dutch for envoy – like a messenger or a representative?"
"Donte frowned. "Dutch? It's the language of Bergen, but…yes, that's what it means."
"Gezant." Marlin repeated the name again. "I like it. It's different." She looked down at the sleeping infant. "Isn't she beautiful?"
"Yes, she is."
She looked back at Donte. "I still can't believe I'm a mother. It's a little overwhelming."
"It's an enormous responsibility, but I know you are up to it. I'll help you."
For a moment she studied his handsome face. He was sixty years old and not even human, yet he would make a good husband. "Do you think of me as a daughter?"
His gaze traveled over her face, obviously giving the question serious consideration. "I don't know how I think of you. I never thought about it before." He smiled. "Except as an adversary."
Warmth flooded her face. Of course he would see her that way. She hadn't given him much of a reason to look at her any other way.
She sighed. "I'm sorry. I blamed you for taking my grandfather from me – and my father. It wasn't your fault."
He squatted and brushed a strand of hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear. "Life certainly provides unexpected departures. I don't know why we feel the need to assign blame, but I guess it's human nature. When Beier died, I blamed myself for letting him come to Oriel with us. When my first mate and son died, I blamed myself for not being there to protect them, and when my daughter died, I blamed myself for that." He shook his head. "If I had done things differently, none of them would have died, but I didn't and I can't go back and change it. It's important to accept responsibility for the things we do wrong, because it's the only way we can learn from our mistakes and, hopefully, not make the same mistake twice."
If she had stayed on the Spero, they wouldn't be trapped now. If she had stayed home instead of going to a bar to celebrate, she wouldn't have been raped. If she hadn't broken up with Reyse, she wouldn't have gone to the bar. Choices had more to do with life than luck or destiny. Sometimes she felt as if she had been making the same mistake – only in different situations. No one had died because of her choices…yet.
She gazed up at him. "How did Chiku die?"
He sighed. "She had a respiratory infection. I left her and Heri with their mother in Nyumbani when I was exiled."
His explanation opened a smorgasbord of questions, but she waited in silence. He had been opening up to her before and she had cut him off.
He sat down and leaned against the rock, his gaze drifting to the river. "I killed their grandfather too." He waited a long time before continuing. "In the beginning, our colonies were forbidden to contact each other." He paused and looked at her. "There is strength in unity. Don't let them separate the colonies on Opus the way they did on Purlieu. Learning another culture doesn't make yours weaker." He turned his face toward the river.
Marlin had no idea why Donte thought she would have any influence in the colonization of Opus, much less any control. Still, she waited. This was a side of Donte she hadn't known before. He was talking as if he expected her to outlive him.
"Fontalo made the Mascots and put them in positions of control over the colonists. Then they decided there were too many, so they developed a serum that would sterilize the males. The serum killed something like 87% of those who took it – men, pregnant women, and male children."
That information was in the history books, but Fontalo hadn't intended to kill the mascots. They were merely trying to control the spiraling population.
He looked at her. "I'm sure you've heard about that, but there were even worse things. My grandfather was confined to a wheelchair for the last five years of his life due to complications caused by the serum. My father nearly died. Farasi, the king of Nyumbani, went insane. He lost all his sons and only had one daughter left. These are things they never mentioned in court."
Marlin said nothing. She wasn't sure why he was suddenly talking about it, but for some reason he obviously thought it was important for someone to know.
He leaned back against the rock and closed his eyes. "Farasi was indirectly responsible for the death of my mate and two children. He wanted an heir and had decided I would be the father. It's a long story and my part doesn't matter except that I did give him two heirs – a girl and a boy. I was a captive for six long years. One day Farasi's raiders brought in another captive – a woman mascot. He was going to execute her, so I killed him."
He opened his eyes and looked at her. "The woman was Akira, now my Dad's mate. I didn't know then, but that was the beginning of The Prophesy that would lead to the free planet of Purlieu. Chiku died that year." He shook his head. "I still miss her and often think of how it would be for her if she had lived. There were so many changes that year. Rianne exchanged vows with me and I was confirmed as second in line as Ruler of Bergen. I miss Liana and Bjorn, and the little girl I never got to know."
He smiled. "Then there was Petra and Andras – and after our trip to Oriel; Rikki and Arabella. I was the Ruler of Bergen. I had four beautiful children – and Rianne. I had it all…." He looked away. "…and then I lost it all. Now I'm back where I started."
Marlin looked down at Gezant. The baby was becoming heavy in her arms, but she was reluctant to put her down. One day Gezant would grow up and start a life of her own. It didn't matter what planet she lived on. What mattered was that she was loved. Gezant wasn't responsible for what her father did. She shouldn't have to pay for it by losing the only parent who cared about what happened to her.
Donte's voice interrupted her thoughts. "She went to Bosvrouwen one day and didn't come back."
Marlin wasn't sure if Donte was talking to her or simply thinking out loud, but she remained quiet, hoping he would explain what had happened to his relationship with Rianne. No one seemed to know.
"She sent me a message that she was going to stay there – that she released me from my vows." His voice sounded strained. He paused for a long time, staring into the darkness before he finally spoke. "At first I thought she felt lost because our last child had left home. It took me three months to accept the fact that she wasn't coming back." He paused again for a long time. When he spoke, his tone was poignant. "I still don't know what I did wrong."
For the first time, Marlin realized how badly he was hurt. It wasn't that Donte didn't feel anything. It was that Donte held it inside. His mate left him and he didn't blame her. He blamed himself.
Donte stood. "I'm going to see if I can find some more wood for the fire. I'll be back in a little while.
He didn't look at Marlin. He simply walked away. Marlin stared after him in shocked silence. Why hadn't it occurred to her before that he was struggling? Warmth crawled up her neck and invaded her face. She had been torturing him – trying to get some kind of response and thinking he wasn't human enough to feel anything. She was the one who had been inhumane. Donte wanted to love and be loved, like any other human.
She gazed down at Gezant. Donte had told her that if she didn't want the baby, he did. Like Rianne, Marlin had been willing to deny someone else love so that she could be happy. She had no right to point a finger at Donte – or Rianne, for that matter.
Tears of shame burned her eyes. Until now she had felt justified in challenging Donte about everything. She had been blaming him for taking her grandfather away when she was only six years old, and for the fact that they were in this mess now.
She leaned her forehead against her knees and began to cry. She told herself that crying wasn't going to accomplish anything, but she couldn't stop. Sometimes a person could see themselves better without a mirror. She saw herself for what she was and she was disgusted.
Donte missed Rianne and she missed Reyse. Reyse was right about her and she hadn't seen it then. Would she ever see him again?
Soft Science Fiction
