Chapter 24: The Battered Earth — Part 2

After the discussion, Susan returned to her village, to look after her family’s most recent adoptions, a task more tiring as the days drew on. “Children, be careful when traveling through the wetlands. There are bad things out there.” Susan warned Joni and Trina as they half ran and half glided out of her sight.

They seemed completely oblivious to her warning, however, and Susan knew that they weren’t paying attention. They were considerably more capable than others their age. Growing up on Vodia, where their natural predators were human adults, the two had well-developed reflexes for observation and a cautious attitude abut self-preservation. Refocusing such reflexes for a less populated environment proved easier than Susan would have expected. The brother and sister team were inseparable, but they were also young and foolish. The children were still nearly a century from full maturity, as measured by Antansi standards. She let her mind drift off of them, motioning at Drake absently with her hand. Drake looked angrily at the children, and Grumpy hissed arrogantly, as if being given the task of nanny was below his stature.

“Do I have the words ‘baby sitter’ tattooed across my ass?” Drake asked sarcastically. “And why wasn’t I on the advance team to Earth?”

Susan sighed, noting that Drake did indeed have a tattoo on his back that snaked up over one arm. “I’ll tattoo those words on your butt myself, if you argue with me. You’re needed at home, that’s why you’re not on the advance team. There are threats to Antans that require me to keep certain minds close.” It was obvious Drake wasn’t given the answer he wanted to hear. So Susan extrapolated, after an impatient sigh. “Vertigo and Jonathan, Seva and Charles were sent because they have firsthand experience with military surveillance.”

Grumpy made an abstract guffawing sound. Full grown and semi-bipedal, Grumpy could stand as tall as Drake (taller than Susan by at least a foot) and considered most of the creatures Susan feared to be quite appetizing. The fluffy lizard had also gained something akin to intelligence, a trait that was not uncommon in his species. Susan looked straight into the reptile’s eyes, judging the weight of its thoughts. It started to whine something incoherent to anybody but Susan. Susan nodded to it appreciatively, but pointed at the children and spoke sternly.

“Stop complaining and track down those kids. If something eats them, I’ll eat you.”

Without further complaint, Grumpy followed Drake into the brush. With Grumpy and Drake well out of range, Laura materialized next to Susan, as if she were being transmitted from some place distant. She had actually been just a few hundred yards off, and had moved quietly to Susan’s side when Susan’s conversation with Drake and Grumpy had ended. Laura had moved so quickly that the fog had been dragged along behind her. As the fog resettled around her body, moving away from her hot skin in random whorls and sliding over her shoulders and between her legs, Laura focused keenly on Susan’s rather haggard-looking posture.

“Why didn’t you go after them Susan? I know you love to play with the children.” She asked with a careful choice of concern and consideration.

“I’m tired is all.” Susan said.

Laura gave her a stunned look. Not in over a century had she heard Susan use those words. “A nap might help, right?”

“Laura, I’m tired, it’s as simple as the babies growing in my belly.” Susan put her hand on her stomach and smiled with genuine appreciation. Even the smile seemed to take effort.

Laura smiled as well. “Who’s the father?”

“Who do you think? Devon of course.” Susan scratched her cheek, as if wondering at the possibilities. “He said that we should raise the kids together.”

“Devon has always been a romantic at heart.” Laura said. Laura didn’t seem to know what to do with her hands for a moment, then took one of Susan’s and squeezed it tightly.

“Being pregnant is the only reason I’m not going to Earth myself.” Susan said.

“If I knew getting you pregnant would make you act more like a leader I might have encouraged it centuries ago.” Laura turned to the sound of many feet, passing in the distance. “The human need to travel strikes again.” Laura noted, as if Susan’s needs were unrelated to the migratory urges of others. Small families and groups of families were always fading into the swamps. Humans were travelers by nature, apparently, and Antans seemed to accept that.

“Have you thought of a name?” Laura asked.