“Justinian risked his life.”
“Justinian had an ul xaolat in his hand and a destination clearly in mind that the monster would not be able to visualize or find. Precious Wind taught him how the gadget works. Nonetheless, he did risk his life. He was brave and perfect. He looked and sounded the part.”
“Like the pictures.”
“Exactly like the pictures. I don’t know precisely what Precious Wind and her friends concocted to put in the maintenance tube. I overheard them talking about flesh of some kind, and some kind of narcotic. And a poison which did not cause pain.”
“And the monster just died.”
“It just died. Its pain went away. Perhaps it did not die totally until it was blown up, but it’s gone now.” He laughed, an uncomfortable laugh. “I keep waking in the night wondering if it really was the last one.”
Lok-i-xan said, “Abasio, you will have many worries left in your life if you do the traveling you propose to. I believe this is one worry you can dispense with. Unless slaughterers were made that weren’t on the monitors, that worry is over. I’ve seen all the original papers. I’ve seen the original monitors. Every monitor led to a vault, and every vault was cleaned out. Eventually. Just because we knew where each one was didn’t mean they were easy to find! Some of them were a hundred feet down in stone. Some of them could only be reached by tunnels that opened miles away. It took over a hundred years for our people to find and enter one hundred and seventy-two vaults. We dropped one hundred and seventy-two chunks of concrete into ocean trenches. This one was number one hundred and seventy-three. It was the only one left.”
“No more Big Kill.”
“Not until the waters rising reach the tops of the mountains. And by then, most of us should be able to swim.”
Abasio didn’t reply. His life had run into more than a few ironic happenings that were the antithesis of what he had planned and expected. “Should” was a word he distrusted. Along with “probably.” And “we believe.” A lot of people believed that he and Xulai probably should have a child that could live underwater. He simply leaned back in his chair, took another helping of whatever it was he was eating, and smiled at Lok-i-xan.
Abasio was having his own concerns, concerns that each morning required a new analysis. Today’s had been that if Xulai gave birth to a cephalopod, at least the birth would be easy as there’d be no skull to worry about. The idea did not cheer him, but nothing would be gained by sharing his own doubts. Lok-i-xan had earned his optimism. Let him enjoy it.
Lok-i-xan thought that Abasio seemed very cheerful. Well, he had earned his optimism. Nothing would be gained in voicing his own nightmares about genetics that didn’t turn out right, the possible birth of monsters that either couldn’t or shouldn’t live! No, let Abasio enjoy this peaceful time.
Both of them replayed these thoughts some days later as they sat together with Justinian in a kind of anteroom in the hospital. It had been strongly suggested to them that they wait as patiently as possible out here, because they would be in the way otherwise, and everyone needed to concentrate on what was happening. Lok-i-xan, gray faced and weary, had not moved from his chair since he had arrived. Justinian changed chairs frequently. Abasio had not sat down.
Xulai yelled at intervals from the next room. Really, more of a scream. Really, sometimes, more angry than pained.
“She’ll be glad to get back to traveling,” Abasio said. “She said so yesterday. She’s felt very . . . stifled.”
Lok-i-xan smiled. It was the slightly condescending smile given by a man who had been a father, many times, to a man who had not. “She won’t want to leave the child, not for a moment,” he said. “Young mothers are all alike.”
“Yes, but, in this case . . .”
“There’ll be some adjustments. One has to expect that. Don’t be disappointed when she doesn’t want to accompany you, Abasio. Later on, when the children are independent, you’ll have plenty of time to travel together.”
Abasio walked into a wall and stood there, wondering if hitting his head on it would help. What would “independent” mean in this case? His child living in the Sea King’s castle, saying “Whassat, who’s he?” to passing fish? He could hear the voices in the next room, some men, some women, all of them “medically trained,” whatever that meant. They had the books from the Before Time, and they had a lot of the same equipment. However neither they nor anyone else on the face of the planet had delivered . . . ah. What?
“Stop that!” screamed Xulai. “Leave it alone!”
Justinian turned gray. Abasio bit his lip. It bled. He found a handkerchief and polka-dotted it with red.
A voice shouted, “Another. Hold that. Don’t move.”
Lok-i-xan panted, “Oh, my. I wonder what—”
Someone said, “I don’t believe this. I simply don’t believe this.”
Someone else in the next room said, “People have twins all the time. It’s not unusual.”
Xulai screeched what sounded like a curse. At the very least, a malediction.
The first person said, “This is unusual.”
Someone said, “Of course, dogs have litters of eight or ten all the time. More than cats.”
Lok-i-xan got up hastily and left the room. He looked decidedly unwell. Justinian went after him.
Someone said argumentatively, “Dogs have eight teats. Or is it ten?”
Someone else said, “Shut up and hold this. You, go get a very large kettle.”
“Kettle?”
“Kettle, pan, bucket, pail, whatever. Move!”
Long silence. Very long silence. Splashing sound. Abasio told himself they must be washing themselves off. Births were sort of messy, he
