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Chapter 60 Chalee-Siri returned to the Tri one year after moving away. She was the only one Katrina called when she knew labor would begin soon. She and the baby had somehow discussed the schedule of her birth and several other topics before hand. It was because of that that Katrina was so very near calm when the contractions began and only verging on panicked the next day when Chalee-Siri finally arrived. “How bad does it hurt?” Chalee-Siri asked. “Nothing I can’t handle.” The Caminee laughed. “Unless you plan on holding the child in, that’s not much of an answer.” “It’s getting worse each hour,” Katrina admitted as she led her friend inside and straight for the Red Wing. “I’m sure,” Chalee-Siri said with sympathy. “But, when it’s all over, you’ll forget most of it and remember the joy of it. Has the baby kicked much?” “No, she’s afraid of hurting me.” Chalee-Siri laughed again. “If only they all showed such concern. My son was so rowdy I thought he was trying to find his way out through my stomach. Now, lay down and relax.” Katrina did as she was ordered, feeling only the smallest resistance to being ordered. Her bed was large and soft and she had already piled pillows carefully at its head for support and a little extra luxury. Chalee-Siri inventoried the warm water and clean cloth Katrina had already gathered at the foot of the bed. “You were about to do it alone, weren’t you?” “If need be,” Katrina answered, strained as a new flash of pain took her. “Well, now you don’t have to. If she’s ready, lets bring her into the galaxy.” An hour later, Amelia was born. Her pale skin was just barely tinted blue and her hair was far thicker and greener than most human babies or parents could hope for. She whimpered as cool air touched her for the first time and squirmed as the cord connecting mother and daughter was severed, but she did not cry or scream in any way. “She is darling,” Chalee-Siri crooned as she set the girl in Katrina’s arms. “She looks like TyraFem,” Katrina observed dispassionately. “Is that bad?” “No. Far better she resemble her grandmother than her grandfather. Still, I will have to remind myself not to blame her for it, for a while. She was created through my genes, after all. There could not have been too much to choose from.” “Quite the perfect being, isn’t she?” Guardian asked from where he now appeared at Katrina’s bedside. “I think I did quite well with this one.” |
