HMS Valediction

Chapter 7

Like a good little echelon, I return our unit to Hayomo in the Nest for a full report.

"So we wait," she says, resting her hip against one of the SCOPE terminals. "In the meantime, tell me about this time system again."

I mirror her body language, leaning against a nearby terminal, arms crossed, eyes downcast as I stare at my boots, waiting for her to explain where she's been. I clench my fist, concentrating my frustration on the brief strain of its compression.

"I'm not entirely sure I could break it down for you. Not in a way that would make sense. McCroy could."

Hayomo nods. She swivels around to peer out the enormous windows at the marketplace below. I face the opposite direction and observe SCOPE TOP operators in their natural habitat. Coodi occupies a vacant station in the corner of the Nest. She peeks furtively at us from time to time, watching us under her dark, lowered lashes. Her hands rest in her lap, gentle and patient. I get a distinct impression that seeing me and Hayomo together doesn't seem to please her.

Regardless of how she feels, she calls McCroy to the Nest.

When he arrives, I wave him over. "Come share some of those brains you got with us. What was all that time stuff about?"

He steps up to Hayomo and salutes us with a sharp hand at his brow. We return the salute as he dives head-first into the explanation of time in space.

When he's done, Hayomo nods, turns and walks away. She exits the Nest without a single word of praise or gratitude. She leaves this kid here for me to clean up.

"Thanks, McCroy. So I'm guessing numbers are your thing?"

He shrugs.

***

For once, Knuckles is motionless, soaking in all the information I possess on my trip to Xeno A-320.

"And there's these pulses that emit from the Core of the universe. It's like a giant master-clock that regulates the beats that pulsate through all the galaxies. For every one beat of the universe, there's—".

I double over, clutching my distended belly. A sudden fluttering cuts my words from my mouth. Panic flitters as the internal pops of movement stun me to stillness.

"Are you to leave me in anticipation or are you going to finish your explanation?" He picks up a prosthetic hand from the table.

It happens again. I clutch my belly. "What the fuck is happening?"

With agonizing carelessness, Knuckles lumbers over toward me and pushes my hand away to pull up my shirt and expose my skin.

He makes contact. I shriek when the strange internal rush returns under his fingers.

"It's nothing to worry about." He takes my hand and lays in on the expanse of my belly.

We wait.

Then, my world collapses.

A little push. A little push so tiny, if I hadn't been compressing that exact spot, I would have missed it.

"Knuckles!" I grab his arm and squeeze. "Is that him? What's he doing?"

"Beating the shit out of you from the inside from the looks of it."

"Why is he doing that?" I can't hide my smile. This is the first time, after having many long-winded, one-sided conversations, he finally responds.

"That's what fetuses do. You never read the HHP introduction pamphlets, did you?"

"No one said it was required."