Page 18 of The First Child
One moment Aniska sleeps peacefully in her carrier, her empathic field radiating the contentment that has become our new normal over the past week. The next, her tiny body burns with heat that makes my enhanced thermal sensitivity recoil in alarm.
“Hada.” I keep my voice level despite the urgency clawing at my chest. “Something’s wrong.”
She emerges from the kitchen where she’s attempting to master Zephyrian nutritional synthesis—a process that involves more creativity than human cooking and significantly more opportunities for spectacular failure. One look at my expression sends her military training into overdrive.
“What kind of wrong?”
“Fever. Rising rapidly.” I lift Aniska from her carrier, and even through the soft fabric of her sleeper, her skin feels hot enoughto cause tissue damage. “Her temperature has increased by four degrees in the past three minutes.”
Hada’s hand flies to Aniska’s forehead, and I watch her face cycle through concern, assessment, and the kind of focused calm that emerges in crisis situations. “Could be a normal childhood illness. Human babies get fevers all the time.”
“Not like this. The rate of increase suggests systemic dysfunction rather than immune response.”
“So what do we do? Call Dr. Velanni?”
I readily move toward the medical monitoring station built into every family housing unit, my fingers dancing across controls that display Aniska’s vital signs in holographic detail. What I see makes my markings flare with a bioluminescent alarm.
“Her cellular metabolism is accelerating beyond safe parameters. If this continues, the fever could trigger neurological damage.”
“Then we stop it.” Hada moves to stand beside me, her presence offering stability even as Aniska fusses with the restless energy that precedes empathic distress. “How?”
The question forces me to confront the limitations of my knowledge. Zephyrian healing techniques work through energy manipulation and telepathic intervention—methods designed for our physiology, not hybrid genetics that follow rules we’re still learning to understand.
“Traditional fever reduction involves redirecting excess thermal energy through controlled telepathic channels,” I explain, activating the chamber’s environmental controls to lowerambient temperature. “But Aniska’s human genetics may not respond to standard protocols.”
“What about human methods? Medication, cooling techniques?”
“Potentially dangerous. Her Zephyrian cellular structure could react unpredictably to pharmaceutical intervention.” I pause, studying the data streams that show her temperature continuing to climb despite environmental adjustments. “We need to combine approaches.”
Aniska’s fussing escalates to full crying, and with it comes the empathic feedback that turns the air itself into a pressure wave of distress. Her fever isn’t just physical—it triggers the same emotional chaos that nearly overwhelmed her during those first traumatic days after her parents’ death.
“She’s projecting again,” Hada observes, her voice tight with the effort of maintaining focus while Aniska’s panic washes over us both. “The fever is making her empathic abilities unstable.”
“Which will accelerate the temperature increase. Emotional distress triggers metabolic responses that?—”
“Sylas.” Hada’s hand settles on my arm, grounding me before I spiral into theoretical analysis while Aniska burns with fever three feet away. “Tell me what to do.”
The touch sends warmth through my consciousness that has nothing to do with temperature and everything to do with the way she looks at me—not as a repository of Zephyrian knowledge, but as her partner in keeping Aniska safe. The trust implicit in that gaze steadies me more effectively than any meditation technique.
“Monitor her vitals while I prepare the healing chamber,” I instruct, moving toward the alcove where I conduct most of my spiritual work. “We’ll need to cool her body temperature while simultaneously calming her empathic projection.”
“Both at the same time?”
“Both through the same process. Zephyrian thermal regulation is controlled by conscious intention channeled through telepathic connection. If we can establish dual contact?—”
“You and me. Both linked to her.” Understanding flashes across her features. “Like the night we helped her process the traumatic memories.”
“Exactly. But this will be more challenging. Physical healing requires precise energy manipulation, and her distress will make maintaining connection difficult.”
I activate the chamber’s focusing crystals, watching bioluminescent patterns flare to life across walls designed to amplify and direct telepathic energy. The space fills with harmonic resonance that should promote healing—would promote healing, if our patient were fully Zephyrian instead of a hybrid whose genetics defy conventional treatment.
“Ready,” I announce, returning to where Hada holds our increasingly distressed patient. Aniska’s cries have taken on the desperate edge that precedes complete empathic meltdown, and her skin radiates heat that makes her uncomfortable to touch.
“What do I need to do?”
“Maintain the empathic bond you established before. Provide emotional stability while I work on thermal regulation.” I settlecross-legged on the floor, gesturing for Hada to mirror my position. “But be prepared—this may be intense.”
She sits without hesitation, Aniska cradled against her chest with the protective instinct that has become as natural as breathing. “How intense?”
