Amelia opened her robe and pressed him directly against her chest. He cuddled in like a bean, rubbing his head against where Ferulis assumed her pulse soothed him.
“Beautiful,” he said, looking at Amelia with an uncharacteristic softness. “Muru grace us.”
He let the words out in front of a human for the first time and cleared the rasp in his throat. Amelia seemed to understand the implication and bowed her head to him as Dr Zarabi joined her, Matteo asleep on his bare chest.
“We’d like to suggest that Dr Singh stay,” he said.
Ferulis stared at the infants and responded without thought. “Of course.”
Amelia sighed with relief. “Thank god. There are two more pregnancies in the co—”
“Two?”
“Fully human,” Dr Zarabi cut in. They glanced at each other. “Humans don’t have an adaptive period like the hjarna, shilpakaari, or venandi. They simply acclimate to new environmental pressures. We’ve commissioned a contraceptive study from Samridve, and the pilot program has been successful so far.”
Ferulis sat with a stunned expression. Reality crashed down on him. The first generation of humans was already being born off Earth. He filled a glass withiquaand threw it back. “That’s unexpected.”
“Mammals, what can you do?” Amelia laughed gently.
Mammals or not, to the rest of the Union’s species, their family was a miracle. Diversification happened often for families lucky enough to afford it, but new species had always taken a generation or longer to warm up to the possibility. The first venawren hadn't been born until fifty years after integration, and early attempts often failed. But here was the first hukaari within two orbits of theParamourraid, born out of arguablythe most DIY diversification process on record. Just two lovesick doctors, a clandestine donation, and some petri dishes.
He had a hard time accepting that Amelia wasn’t divine after all.
“The other maras… Are they healthy?”
“Oh yes,” Amelia said, pushing up her seeing frames. “Blood pressure is a concern for one of them, but imaging and vitals observation are so advanced compared to Earth. She vid comms a doctor in Samridve once per satbit, and Dr Singh has her certification in cesarean operations. Even if we need to induce early because of preeclampsia, she’ll be well taken care of.”
Most of that flew over Ferulis’s head, but he nodded. “You let me know if you need anything at all.” He smiled at the slumbering whelps. “Welcome into the world, little ones. You be sure to let your mara and para rest now.”
“Good night, Chairman Ferulis. Apologies for disturbing your sleep,” Dr Zarabi said with a bow of his head.
“Nonsense. I expect a barrage of snaps to entertain me during dull meetings. Consider it an order. Now go call Ambassador Zufi and wake that bastard up too.”
The screen went dark and Ferulis pushed off the bartop, running his rough palm over his mandibles.
Fully human babes in his colony…
He picked up his glass with a snarl and threw it at the floor-to-ceiling windows. The cut crystal shattered on impact, raining down on his tiles like glitter. A short service door hushed open and a cleaning drone trundled out, flicking its little broom and sucking up the shards while he paced.
There were pregnant Mur—humans—and infants relying on him, but their security was slipping through his fingers. No matter how desperate his grip, there were always cracks to exploit. Like weeds popping out of concrete.
And further, it complicated their status. A refugee colony fell under his jurisdiction if he claimed it under victim protection law. That provided him with the cover of a moratorium, hidden coordinates, high security visas, a vetting process…
With the first generation of Yaspurian humans being born, the shilpakaari homeworld could file a challenge. They could claim them as Yaspurian citizens, which would open humans to voting rights, academy, freedoms that all other Union citizens were guaranteed. In any other circumstance, that would be ideal. He would celebrate.
But Ferulis’s wards were still too vulnerable. The danger only grew more sinister after Endar Burdam hung himself in his prison cell, and Chairwoman Guei’s pockets were deeper than he’d expected. He needed more time.
He needed guidance.
Ferulis came to an abrupt halt, lifting his holotab. He brought up the biognostic face of his oldest living ancestor and watched Jharisi Ferulis’s five optic lenses stare back with their unfathomable wisdom and age. Jharim—the name he used now—had been among the humans for some time. He would know what to do…
His holotab buzzed again. Bael’s face replaced Jharim, rotating with a straight-laced frown.
“What,” he sighed.
“Ah, good. You’re awake.”
Who spoke to their superiors like that? Come to think of it, Baella had never been big on superiority either…