\n\u201cChih-Tih!\u201d Nall squeals, probing the translucent air bladder.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cYes, baby, Chitlids.\u201d<\/em> My voice comes out tight. The spring has been so late, so cold\u2014I\u2019d thought we\u2019d seen the last of the Chitlids. But this morning we awoke to hundreds of them, dragging their long tentacles through the air between the swaying dandular trunks.\n<\/p>\n \nNall grasps at a Chitlid that puffs just out of xer reach. Pursuing, xe runs through a patch of yellow irrenes, spore pods bursting, and I hurry after. A rustling from a large spench bush pulls xer up short. A turam bolts from it, long legs and orange spots flashing as it disappears into the dandulars.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cJaff!\u201d Nall cries, clapping with glee.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cIt does <\/em>look like a giraffe, doesn\u2019t it?\u201d I laugh. \u201cBut giraffes are from Earth, baby. That\u2019s a turam calf. Tu-ram.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cTuhm,\u201d xe repeats, breathless with wonder, and my heart cracks. The turam\u2019s diet relies heavily on spench berries. As our summers shorten, spench yields drop.\n<\/p>\n \nA familiar dread settles in my stomach, as I imagine the day I\u2019ll have to explain to Nall that all the animals xe\u2019s learning to name so lovingly will soon be gone. \u201cWe didn\u2019t know,\u201d I\u2019ll tell xer. \u201cNot until you were nine months big in my belly. We didn\u2019t know that a solar system away, a star was collapsing, wrenching Coron from its orbit.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nPast the dandular canopy, our sun shines at high noon, a few dozen light-years farther away than it was at this time last year. Next year, it\u2019ll be farther still. And ten years from now, after the last perihelion, we\u2019ll be too far gone for it to ever pull us back. All the humans on Coron will descend into the subterranean caverns we are fervently constructing, to live off geothermal energy as Coron hurtles into deep space.\n<\/p>\n \nI wrench my mind back to the present, to Coron\u2019s surface, where it\u2019s, \u201cnap time!\u201d for this toddler.\n<\/p>\n \nI carry Nall back to the habitat as xe howls and makes xer joints all loose in their sockets, trying to slip from my arms. If Nall had xer way, we\u2019d never come indoors. We\u2019d explore gladial patches and hunt cardizes until xe passed out from exhaustion.\n<\/p>\n \nBack in the nursery, I dim the walls and set them thrumming with white noise. Nall calms down as soon as xe starts to nurse. Our bodies curl together on the bed, and I bury my nose in xer hair, wishing we were simple beasts. Turam and calf. Ignorant of the terrible future. When xer breathing slows to a snore, and my nipple slips from xer lips, I ease up out of bed.\n<\/p>\n \nBut as I stand, the room reels. My vision clouds with spots, and I have to fight for consciousness. After a few moments, the dizzy spell passes, and I creep from the room, sealing the door behind me.\n<\/p>\n \nI must be anemic again. I\u2019ve been breastfeeding Nall for almost two years now, and I get so sick of the daily nutrient injections. The med-droid will remind me to get my postnatal shots, and I\u2019ll snooze its alert again and again, sometimes accidentally shutting it off for weeks at a time. So I keep making myself sick like this.\n<\/p>\n \nNow I summon the med-droid from its storage alcove and press my fingertip to the quick-read sensor, flinching at the prick. My vital stats appear on its face. Iron count could be higher, but I\u2019m not quite anemic. I need some B12 too. One line of my health report is flashing red, and the information there is so unexpected that my brain takes long moments to process it.\n<\/p>\n \nHuman Chorionic Gonadotropin detected.\n<\/p>\n \nFor a thousand years, we\u2019ve known that HCG in the blood means one and only one thing.\n<\/p>\n \nI\u2019m pregnant.\n<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \nSomehow I make it to the couch and collapse, dizzier and shakier than before.\n<\/p>\n \nHow could this have happened? A vague memory surfaces\u2014me, in the middle of cooking, Nall fussing, and the med-droid flashing, reminding me to take my last ovulation suppressant. I must have snoozed it\u2014or did I turn it off?\n<\/p>\n \nAnd then there was that night Mikkle\u2019s parent babysat, so we could watch the double lunar eclipse from the Cliffs of Jethem.\n<\/p>\n \nMy rational mind, the me<\/em> of me, tells me to call the med-droid and do what must be done. I count back to my last menstruation\u2014five weeks. The zygote may not have implanted yet. One quick injection from the med-droid, and it never will.\n<\/p>\n \nBut there\u2019s a surprising tumult of voices inside me, protesting this plan. Memories of pregnancy sweep through me, and I can feel <\/em>it all again\u2014Nall turning over inside me, xer first hiccups\u2014little butterfly jumps\u2014kicks pushing against the skin of my abdomen.\n<\/p>\n \nI try to remind myself of all the aches and pains of pregnancy, the nausea and heartburn. But the thought of a new baby is making me swoon. A tiny, cooing thing who\u2019d fit in the crook of my arm. Gummy smiles and macaroni fingers curling and uncurling around my thumb.\n<\/p>\n \nI try to remind myself of the sleepless nights caring for a newborn. How Nall puked up every type of formula I printed\u2014how xe screamed and thrashed every time I brought xer near <\/em>the nursing droid. The claustrophobia of cluster-feeding, when xe\u2019d nurse for six hours in a stretch, and I couldn\u2019t get away.\n<\/p>\n \nBesides, there\u2019s only one thing to be done here, on a planet that is spinning out of orbit.\n<\/p>\n \nIt\u2019s not illegal to carry a baby to term, not yet. But space and resources in the caverns will be limited, and Parliament has issued a decree, urging us not to have children until they can pass population control. They\u2019re still debating the best way to go about it. Will we have to formally apply to procreate? As a second-time breeder, I\u2019d certainly be denied. Will there be punishments for those who break the law? Birth control in the water supply? Forced abortions? Earth history teaches us that it\u2019s not an easy thing\u2014defying biology\u2019s most urgent imperative.\n<\/p>\n \nAnd there\u2019s always the possibility that the caverns won\u2019t be completed before the last perihelion. That there may not be room for all 100,921 humans on Coron to live below ground when the surface turns to ice.\n<\/p>\n \nSo how dare I consider creating the 100,922nd?\n<\/p>\n \nNall wakes up squalling then, and I head into the nursery. I decide to wait until Mikkle gets home to do anything. Mikkle will convince me of what I already know I need to do.\n<\/p>\n \nBut part of me\u2014what is rapidly becoming the loudest part of me\u2014hopes xe won\u2019t.\n<\/p>\n \n \nBy the time Mikkle\u2019s transport lands, dusk is falling. The flock of Chitlids has already thinned, as they chase the first pollens of spring up the spine of the continent.\n<\/p>\n \nMikkle breezes into the kitchen, floral shift fluttering. Nall runs towards xer squealing, and xe scoops up our baby under one arm and plants a kiss on my cheek.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI didn\u2019t feel up to making dinner\u2014\u201d I start.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNo worries,\u201d xe says, setting Nall on the counter. Mikkle is always cheerful in the evenings, energized by xer work. \u201cWhat\u2019ve we got to cook?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cA few squashes from the greenhouse, but they\u2019re scrawny,\u201d I say, holding up the yellow vegetables. \u201cAnd we foraged for spench berries, but I felt bad taking too many from the turam.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI\u2019ll print up some rice and protein for a stir-fry. Ooh, and I can print some ice cream to go with the berries\u2026I think we have enough lactose\u2014\u201d xe starts sorting through our ingredient canisters.\n<\/p>\n \nI can\u2019t seem to spit out the words I know I need to say. \u201cHow was work?\u201d I manage, pulling the knife from the block.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cExcellent! The new geothermal regulators are working with better efficiency than predicted. In a way, you know, we\u2019re lucky. Coron\u2019s molten core will provide a stable source of energy for 90 million-ish years\u2014way longer than our star would have lasted.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cLucky,\u201d I repeat, slicing the squash paper-thin. \u201cI think it\u2019d be luckier if our planet stayed in orbit. If Nall could grow up topside, instead of living underground like a crust-vole while we hurtle through the endless, freezing darkness.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cHey now, who\u2019s to say the freezing darkness will be endless?\u201d Mikkle says. \u201cThere\u2019s a one-in-a-billion chance we\u2019ll find our way into orbit around another star. Or we could always fall into a black hole.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nNormally a bleak joke like that would be just the thing to make me laugh and break a dark mood. But today, I drop the knife and press my eyes, fighting back tears.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cHey\u2014hey! What is it?\u201d Mikkle asks.\n<\/p>\n \nNall picks up on my energy too, reaching for me with grabby hands. I pick xer up and hold xer on my hip, turning to Mikkle. \u201cWill there be room?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nMikkle looks at me quizzically.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cIn the caverns. You\u2019re in those systems director meetings. You must know. Will there be room for everyone?\u201d I\u2019ve never asked Mikkle this directly before. Maybe I was too afraid to know the answer.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cCapacity is our top priority,\u201d xe says. \u201cWe\u2019re tunneling as fast as we can.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cDon\u2019t give me that official soundbite.\u201d I drop into a chair, and Nall nuzzles inside my shirt, taking shelter from the tension in my voice.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cIt\u2019s not just a matter of beds, you know? Each additional person requires more space for food production, waste management, water storage\u2026but we should have space for everyone.\u201d Xe pushes back xer long hair with both hands. \u201cBut there will be setbacks\u2026 earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, gas pockets\u2026\u201d Xe sighs. \u201cWe\u2019re working as fast as we can.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nNall stretches towards my other breast. \u201cAnd if we\u2019re not fast enough?\u201d I ask, shifting xer to the other side.\n<\/p>\n \nMikkle picks at a spot on the counter. \u201c\u2026There\u2019s been talk of a lottery.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nI groan, imagining the horror of waiting on some official to tell us whether we\u2019ll be allowed below or left to die on the surface.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAre you worried about us?\u201d Mikkle kneels in front of me. \u201cLeira, we\u2019re department heads. Essential personnel. You\u2014me\u2014Nall\u2014our family will have a place, no matter what.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nI knew this on some level, but it\u2019s so good to hear Mikkle say it. I sag with relief, and part of me hates myself for it. For not feeling guiltier.\n<\/p>\n \nI bury my nose in Nall\u2019s curls. \u201cAnd what if it\u2019s not just the three of us?\u201d I mumble.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhat?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhat if it\u2019s not just you, me, and Nall?\u201d I force myself to look up, and I hold Mikkle\u2019s gaze. For a few heartbeats, xer brow furrows in confusion, then widens in understanding.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cOh. Oh, shit\u2026The eclipse\u2014?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nI nod, biting my lip, watching xer closely as emotions sweep across xer face. Mikkle lets out a long breath, steeling xerself. When xe speaks again, xer voice is devoid of emotion, like xe\u2019s discussing a broken thermal regulator. \u201cYou know what you have to do, right?\u201d The question, the coldness in xer voice, cuts like a knife to the gut.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cDo I?\u201d I ask, voice shaking.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cIt\u2019s irresponsible to make more people.\u201d Mikkle gets up and starts pacing. \u201cUntil construction on the caverns is complete? It\u2019s just wrong, Leira. We already have one child!\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nI can\u2019t believe that xe is scolding me like this, and my voice comes out in a snarl.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cMaybe you should\u2019ve thought of that before you came in me.\u201d It\u2019s an ugly thing to say, and I want to take it back as soon as it\u2019s out. Mikkle\u2019s eyes fill with pain, then harden.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cMaybe you<\/em> should remember to take your shots.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nI\u2019m mad at myself for that too, but I\u2019m furious <\/em>with xer for saying it out loud.\n<\/p>\n \nNall rips off my breast, teeth scraping my nipple, and starts wailing. Xe hates when we fight. I press xer into Mikkle\u2019s chest, because suddenly I can\u2019t stand being in the habitat another minute.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cLeira, wait\u2014\u201d Mikkle starts.\n<\/p>\n \nBut I\u2019m already ducking out the hatch into a double-moonlit night.\n<\/p>\n \nI take off running down the path through the fistle grove, following the path towards the lake. I go fast, so my heartrate spikes, my muscles scream for oxygen, and adrenaline dilutes the cocktail of painful neurotransmitters that are making me feel so utterly miserable. It occurs to me that if I let nature take its course, soon I won\u2019t be able to sprint like this, another miserable side-effect of pregnancy. Another reason I should be eager to put an end to it.\n<\/p>\n \nAfter a mile, the fistles thin, and I pick my way down the slope towards the lake. My boots slip in the Brakke-moss along the shore, releasing that musty odor the rock-leapers love. I clamber up onto a glittering boulder of aurum jutting out over the moonlit waters.\n<\/p>\n \nThe temperature has probably dropped twenty degrees since this afternoon, and the film of sweat beneath my light clothes makes me shiver. I wish I\u2019d brought a heated jumper.\n<\/p>\n \nA mournful cry echoes across the lake, and the bioluminescent spines of a naweh pierce the surface of the water. All the arthropods chittering in the shore-reeds hush, as if in reverence, and the beauty of the song tugs on all the knotted emotions inside me.\n<\/p>\n \nI briefly consider the logistics of bringing a naweh into the caverns. Just one of the great serpents might need what\u2014five, six acres of hunting ground? Ten acres of flooded cavern, then, for a single breeding pair. It would never get approved. If they\u2019re not extinct already, all the naweh will freeze in their lakes shortly after the last perihelion.\n<\/p>\n \nThe boulder beneath me rumbles, then lurches, nearly bucking me into the lake that appears to be boiling. An earthquake. I grasp for the lip of the boulder and flatten my body to the rock as it heaves beneath me. After a minute, Coron stills. It was only a small tremor, but I slide to the ground in case more will follow, gripped with a sudden fear for the fragile life inside me.\n<\/p>\n \nI\u2019m not the only one. A light pings in the upper-right corner of my vision, and I press the sensor under my temple, answering the call.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYou okay?\u201d Mikkle\u2019s disembodied face appears before me.\n<\/p>\n \nPart of me wants to thaw, but I can\u2019t seem to crack the ice coating my voice. \u201cI\u2019m fine.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYou should come back, in case there\u2019s another tremor.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYou know everything I should <\/em>do, don\u2019t you?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nA long pause.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI\u2019m sorry, Leira. I\u2014I should\u2019ve asked what you wanted.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYeah. You should\u2019ve.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cPlease come back. Nall\u2019s asleep. We can talk.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201c\u2026Fine,\u201d I say, pretending at reluctance, though really I\u2019m desperate to get back to the habitat and crank up the heat. I\u2019m desperate to make up with Mikkle, who\u2019s better than xe acted tonight. We\u2019re better than we acted tonight.\n<\/p>\n \n \nBack home, as soon as I drop onto the couch, Mikkle starts unlacing my Brakke-caked boots. \u201cWhat are you doing?\u201d I ask, though I think I know.\n<\/p>\n \nMikkle slides one off. \u201cI want to start over.\u201d Xe starts unlacing the other boot. \u201cSo. How are you feeling?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI don\u2019t know? Freaked out?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nMikkle nods and lifts my bare feet into xer lap. I can\u2019t help but smile. When I was pregnant with Nall, xe read about this old Earth custom spouses did for pregnant partners. One day, early in my second trimester, I complained of aching feet, and Mikkle pushed the med-droid away, insisting on massaging my feet with xer own two hands.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAnd?\u201d xe asks, sliding a thumb along the arch of my foot. I sigh at how good it feels.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI know I have to end it. I know that\u2019s right, but\u2014\u201d my voice catches.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cBut we had always talked about having two kids. Before everything\u2026\u201d Xe gently tugs on each of my toes.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThe med-droid can only do the procedure for another couple weeks. After that I\u2019d have to go to a doctor\u2014\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cSo? Then you\u2019ll go to a doctor,\u201d Mikkle holds up my foot by the heel and starts punching the sole. \u201cYou don\u2019t have to decide tonight.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nI lean back on the couch, pressing a palm to my abdomen, where I\u2019m starting to feel familiar twinges. \u201cI don\u2019t have to decide tonight.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n \nThe next day, I\u2019m surprised that I can\u2019t wait to get to the lab. Lately I\u2019ve felt robbed by every day I spend working underground. Robbed of every word Nall learns from the daycare center droids, rather than from my lips. Robbed of the warmth of our star on my face for every hour spent under cold, subterranean lights.\n<\/p>\n \nI became a biologist because I couldn\u2019t stand being cooped up indoors. I wanted to spend my life exploring the wilds of Coron, cataloguing the hundreds of millions of species that inhabit our lush planet. But when the astronomers\u2019 council gave us the terrible news, I was conscripted into designing subterranean habitats. My team decides which species to save\u2014which few thousand are hardy and useful enough to warrant cultivation below ground, in pitiful approximations of Coron\u2019s infinitely complex biomes.\n<\/p>\n \nIt depresses me.\n<\/p>\n \nBut today, I\u2019m eager to drop Nall off at the learning center. I take the elevator without the usual dread settling heavier on my chest with each passing sub-floor. Throughout our morning briefing, I can\u2019t seem to concentrate, as each habitat supervisor updates us on the various pests plaguing their biomes. I\u2019m itching to stretch my legs\u2014to get to something, <\/em> though I\u2019m not sure what until I\u2019m halfway to the fog marsh habitat.\n<\/p>\n \nI pass through the bio-lock into a warm mist and the stench of carnivorous peat. A suspended walkway winds over hungry pools, sucking down red gnats by the dozens. Rounding a stand of turam\u2019s-tail grass, I come face-to-face with the focus of my restlessness.\n<\/p>\n \nDr. Emie Ryndoll is hunched over a patch of thorny veevet, cradling a baby cabbit in one hand.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cOh. Dr. Murris. You startled me,\u201d xe says, proffering the animal. Its left hind leg is bleeding. I squat down. \u201cIt wandered away from its warren and got caught in the veevet. I think the cabbits are all disoriented by the new environment.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cIt\u2019ll take time for them to acclimate,\u201d I say.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cShould I intervene, do you think? Or let nature take its course?\u201d Emie strokes the creature\u2019s fur with a thumb. It purrs, watching us with eyes like three oceanic planets.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhat would you have done if I hadn\u2019t dropped by?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI was about to heal it,\u201d xe admits, like a child caught cheating.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cCarry on then.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nXe pulls a pocket-sized med-droid from xer satchel and sets it to cellular regeneration. The baby cabbit bucks a little as xe inserts its bleeding limb into the droid\u2019s aperture, then stills as the healing light blazes out. After a few moments, the aperture snaps open, and the cabbit pulls its leg free. Emie sets it in soft bog-grass, pointing it away from the stand of veevet. It lopes off, gaining strength with each bound.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cSo. What brings our fearless director to the fog marsh?\u201d Emie asks, as we both straighten. Xe\u2019s wearing a long, ruffled shift\u2014the kind of thing Mikkle likes\u2014that clings to xer swollen belly. My eyes flicker back to xer face, but Emie has caught me staring. \u201cFunny. I haven\u2019t been getting many visitors lately. I know this is one of the smaller habitats, but I was starting to think we\u2019d been forgotten.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nXer hand rests on the reason people avoid the fog marsh. These days, no one is sure how to act around someone so unashamedly pregnant.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI\u2019m sorry you\u2019ve felt neglected,\u201d I say. \u201cThat\u2019s why I came by to check in directly. I\u2019d like to see your most recent data.\u201d It\u2019s a lie\u2014I barely listen to Emie\u2019s report as we head towards the genetic lab, past clouds of sweetly stinking foxbends. The fog marsh is a minor habitat, approved on a trial basis, to see if it can serve as a biological water filtration system for the caverns. A living sewer. But so far, the marsh has been plagued by rampant toxic fungal growth.\n<\/p>\n \nIn the genetic lab, we sit at a bank of holoscreens full of data. Emie insists that the fog marsh will soon become a viable contributor to the cavern meta-ecosystems. I try to pay attention, but truthfully, I\u2019m just waiting for xer to finish, so I can start up another conversation.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cExcellent work.\u201d I say, when the toxicology talk finally dwindles. \u201cSo,\u201d I take a deep breath. \u201cWhen are you due?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nIt\u2019s a question I was asked ten times a day when I was pregnant with Nall. But that was before. Emie eyes me warily, like the question is a trap. \u201cI\u2019m thirty-seven weeks.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cOof, I remember that last trimester.\u201d I imitate the chatty, conspiratorial voice Mikkle uses to strike up friendships with complete strangers. \u201cNall\u2019s foot got stuck up under my left rib. It was so uncomfortable.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYes, same!\u201d Emie breaks into a cautious smile. \u201cIt\u2019s right here.\u201d Xe rubs a spot beneath xer ribcage.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAny heartburn?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cTerrible! I can\u2019t sleep at night.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nWe chat more about xer symptoms, and Emie slouches lower in xer seat, rubbing the sore place beneath xer rib. When we run out of things to say, Emie\u2019s eyes glisten. \u201cThank you, Dr. Murris. For asking. You don\u2019t know what it means.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cIt must be very lonely for you,\u201d I say.\n<\/p>\n \nXe shrugs. \u201cOh, it\u2019s not so bad. My partners have been wonderful. And my parents are thrilled. I\u2019m the only pregnancy in this area, but there\u2019s a bunch of us scattered around the settlements. We chat in pro-proc discussion forums, and a few times, we\u2019ve met up to hang out. You should see peoples\u2019 faces when a whole bunch of us show up in the town center!\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nI laugh along with xer, feeling a stab of guilt. I recall joking with Mikkle recently about \u201cthose pro-procreation crackpots.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cMostly I just get nasty looks.\u201d Emie cradles xer belly. \u201cBut I don\u2019t care. This one\u2019s totally worth it.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cIt used to be so different,\u201d I say. \u201cIf you\u2019d been pregnant when I was\u2014\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cOh, we were trying then,\u201d Emie interrupts, anger flashing behind xer eyes. \u201cI had four miscarriages. So I wasn\u2019t about to give xer up, just because some star collapsed.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nI nod with more understanding than xe knows, resisting the urge to touch my own abdomen.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAnd I have faith in our engineers. They\u2019ll complete the caverns in time. And if they don\u2019t\u2026well, why should my baby\u2019s life matter less than anyone else\u2019s?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nBecause you defied the parliamentary decree, <\/em>I think. Because you decided to carry xer to term, knowing xe could take someone else\u2019s place. <\/em>But I don\u2019t say any of that, of course.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cPro-procs say that every child who lives to feel the sun on their face\u2014even if just for a few years\u2014has lived a precious life,\u201d Emie says. \u201cThey think we should try to be having more<\/em> children, more people who will remember the wildernesses of Coron.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nI notice xe doesn\u2019t say \u201cwe.\u201d I wonder how Emie reconciles xer work as a scientist with the pro-proc\u2019s wishful thinking.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAnyways, hopefully we won\u2019t even need spots in the caverns.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nI arch an eyebrow in confusion.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI\u2019ve applied for seats on the Ark.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nI can\u2019t conceal my shock. \u201cEmie, that ship\u2019s an antique! And there\u2019s no guarantee\u2014\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThat we\u2019ll make it back to Earth? That anyone\u2019s there to greet us? Believe me, I\u2019ve heard it all from my parents. There\u2019s also no guarantee that a massive earthquake won\u2019t destroy the caverns before the last perihelion.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cBut we haven\u2019t heard from Earth in a hundred years!\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhich could easily be because a relay satellite got hit by an asteroid.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cOr that a planet governed by warring nations and factions and religions and\u2014and even genders!\u2014A planet that has never experienced a moment of world peace, for all its millenia, finally destroyed itself.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThere were even fewer guarantees when our ancestors struck out for Coron. But if there\u2019s a chance my descendants can grow up playing beneath sky? On our home world?\u201d Emie trails off, staring up at the ceiling lights. A half a mile of rock separates us from open air. \u201cIt\u2019s worth the risk.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nEmie squints at me then. \u201cYou know, in the forums, they\u2019re saying anyone who wants more kids should be sure to do it soon. They might only have a few more ovulation cycles before parliament passes population control.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nMy face grows hot, and I can\u2019t meet xer gaze. How did xe know? \u201cThank you again, Dr. Ryndoll, for your, uh, excellent work in curbing the mycroa growth,\u201d I stand abruptly. I\u2019m dizzy again and a little nauseous. Early pregnancy symptoms, or just low blood sugar? I need to eat.\n<\/p>\n \nAs I practically flee from the fog marsh, I press my temple to send a message, asking Mikkle to lunch. Xe messages back right away. Last night\u2019s tremor caused a cave-in of a critical sub-station, meaning a lot of extra work for xer. Can we meet at xer office?\n<\/p>\n \nI catch a tram from the sub-habitats to the furnace, trading botanical gardens for a labyrinth of pipe-works and the glow of lava light. I find Mikkle outside xer office, huddled with a group of workers in shiny, thermal-protective suits. Mikkle\u2019s job will only get more and more difficult as our accelerating orbit causes more and more volcanic activity. That last summer will be the worst, as Coron whips around our star one last time, faster than ever before. And of course, that summer will be our last chance to put the finishing touches on the caverns before hurtling into deep space forever. You\u2019d think the stress would get to Mikkle, but xe\u2019s always calm and purposeful at work, beloved by xer team of geothermal engineers. They head off down a tunnel, and Mikkle embraces me. I linger in xer arms longer than I normally would at work.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI\u2019m swamped with these repairs. Can we eat down here?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cSure,\u201d I say, although the roaring of the lava chutes reminds me that another tremor could send the walls crushing in on us at any moment, and the stale air below ground makes me feel like I\u2019m choking.\n<\/p>\n \n \u201cOn second thought,\u201d Mikkle says, peering at me closely. \u201cHow about we go topside?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nMy heart chose so well when it picked xer.\n<\/p>\n \n \nWe picnic in a patch of blooming tsinara, eating our rice-and-squash leftovers amid photo-absorptive petals so purple that it hurts to look at them.\n<\/p>\n \nI tell Mikkle about my conversation with Emie. When I mention the pro-proc discussion forums, xe snorts. \u201cDidn\u2019t you say last week that all those pro-procs need compulsory psychopharmacological adjustment?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nI don\u2019t smile. \u201cMaybe I was wrong about them.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nMikkle holds up xer hands, \u201cFair enough. What\u2019s changed your mind?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThis, obviously,\u201d I lay a hand on my belly. \u201cWe should\u2019ve been more careful, but we weren\u2019t. And now there\u2019s this zygote in me, and\u2014well, don\u2019t they kind of have a point? Doesn\u2019t xe deserve to see the sun, if only for a few years? Doesn\u2019t xe deserve to live, if I want xer?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cDo<\/em> you want xer?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nI know I have to be honest, but I\u2019m terrified of how Mikkle will react.\n<\/p>\n \nYes,\u201d I confess. \u201cMore than I\u2019ve ever wanted anything.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cMore than you wanted Nall?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhen I was pregnant then, I didn\u2019t know how amazing Nall would be. How much I would love being xer parent.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYou hated being pregnant, though.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cIt\u2019s torture. But it was worth it.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nWe stare into each other\u2019s eyes for a long moment, and then a smile cracks Mikkle\u2019s face. \u201cWait, so\u2026\u201d I\u2019m afraid to ask. \u201cAre you okay with\u2014?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cOkay?\u201d Mikkle crawls towards me and sets down my bowl. \u201cOkay?\u201d Xe grabs me around the waist and pulls me on top of xer. \u201cWe\u2019re going to have another baby!\u201d Xe kisses me, and I return it gratefully, my cheeks wet with tears. After a few moments, I feel xer hard against my leg.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cMaybe we should put twins in there?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYou know that\u2019s not how that works!\u201d I laugh. Mikkle loves to tease me by saying biologically-ludicrous things.\n<\/p>\n \nXe collapses next to me, squinting up at our distant sun. \u201cWe\u2019ll have to think of a name.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cIf only that were the hardest part.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n \nWhen I get back to work, I can\u2019t stop smiling. My team lead for the dandular forest sub-hab asks what\u2019s gotten into me, and I say I\u2019m just so excited about the progress being made on the fog marsh.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cChitlids!\u201d I exclaim, apropos of nothing.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhat about them?\u201d xe asks.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cIn the dandular forest. We should introduce chitlids.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cBut\u2014but they only breed after completing a trans-continental migration. Their diet consists of thousands of different types of pollens and spores. How can we possibly replicate\u2014\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cEh, a little gene-altering, and they\u2019ll adapt.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cBut they don\u2019t play a regulatory role in the ecosystem. They have no medicinal properties. They\u2019re not essential to the food chain. Why would we\u2014?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cBeauty!\u201d I exclaim. \u201cHope! Chitlids are one of the most charismatic species on Coron. There was nothing remotely like them on Earth. We should preserve some species like that, not just utilitarian ones.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nXe looks at me skeptically, but mutters something about scheduling an exploratory trial. As we wander the dandular sub-hab, I think maybe it won\u2019t be so bad for Nall and xer little sibling to grow up down here. Not if there are chitlids to chase after.\n<\/p>\n \nLater that afternoon, working with a sporg population model in my office, I smile when I start to feel cramps in my pelvic floor. These feel different than menstrual cramps, more of a tightening than a twisting. My uterus is already stretching to accommodate a growing human.\n<\/p>\n \nIn the bathroom, I spot a tiny blob of pink on the sanitary wipe, and I know what\u2019s happening\u2014implantation bleeding. I feel a thrill, imagining the clump of cells attaching to my uterus, making its home for the long months to come. And for the first time in two years, thinking about the future feels exciting.\n<\/p>\n \nA half-hour later, I have to use the bathroom again\u2014so many pregnancy symptoms already! A good sign\u2014But I frown down at the sanitary wipe. The spot of blood is no longer watery pink, but bright red.\n<\/p>\n \nI\u2019m not too worried, but I press the sensor under my temple and search the med-net for data on implantation bleeding. I read that it\u2019s perfectly normal to see a small amount of bright red blood. Spotting may even last a few days. I knew that already, I just needed to read it again to relax. I change into a menstrual catcher.\n<\/p>\n \nWhen I pick up Nall from daycare, xe runs to me, squealing for \u201cbooby.\u201d I decide to nurse xer there before heading home. As xe suckles, I whisper that another little baby is growing in my tummy\u2014a friend who will always be there for xer, no matter what. Nall\u2019s eyes watch me, wide and happy, though I don\u2019t know if xe really understands.\n<\/p>\n \nAs we stand to leave, I feel a rush of blood slip out of me. It\u2019s a lot. Like at the peak of my menstrual cycle, and I\u2019m starting to think that something is wrong. I\u2019m in a shaky, cold sweat the whole transport flight home, although I keep reminding myself\u2014spotting for several days can be normal.<\/em> As soon as we\u2019re inside the door of the habitat, I head to the med-droid and let it prick me. HCG detected. I brace my arms on the counter, letting out a huge sigh. I\u2019m still pregnant.\n<\/p>\n \nI print Nall an approximated earth apple for a snack and we build towers with xer blocks and knock them down a few dozen times. By the time Mikkle returns home, I\u2019ve had to change my menstrual catcher twice. I tell xer what\u2019s happening, and xe holds me for a long time, reassuring me that it\u2019s probably nothing. But I see xer eyes unfocused all night, and I know xe\u2019s searching the net, reading all the same reports I have. Mikkle asks if I want to go see our doctor, but I say no. There doesn\u2019t seem a point. Why face the humiliation of admitting to an accidental pregnancy, because from what I\u2019ve read, if this is an early miscarriage, there\u2019s nothing to be done.\n<\/p>\n \nWe eat dinner. I give Nall a bath. I nurse xer to sleep. Mikkle and I curl up on the couch and watch an ancient earth-film. I bleed steadily. We go to bed. I lie beside Mikkle, listening to xer snoring in the darkness, my panic mounting. Two days ago, I didn\u2019t know this zygote existed, so how can I want it so terribly? As a biologist, I know it\u2019s ridiculous, but still I whisper into the darkness: You are loved. You are wanted. Please stay. <\/em>\n<\/p>\n \nThe cramps in my uterus are no longer little twinges, but a wrenching worse than anything I ever felt menstruating. In the middle of the night, I get up to pee again, and the flood of blood that comes out of me rips an inadvertent cry from my lungs.\n<\/p>\n \nI can no longer deny the evidence of what is happening. I stumble to the kitchen and summon the med-droid. There\u2019s an instant between the finger-prick and when my vitals appear on its face, when I still don\u2019t know for sure. When anything is still possible.\n<\/p>\n \nBut it only lasts an instant.\n<\/p>\n \nNo HCG detected.\n<\/p>\n \nMikkle appears in the doorway. \u201cI heard you\u2014\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nAs soon as our eyes meet, Mikkle understands. Xe pulls me close, resting xer chin on my head. \u201cWe could still try for one. If you wanted,\u201d xe says.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cIt\u2019s different, doing it on purpose.\u201d I snuggle my head against Mikkle\u2019s chest. \u201cI don\u2019t think I can.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nOutside the habitat window, I watch the last of the chitlids disappear into the dandular forest. Their migration has moved further north, maybe for the last time. I realize how absurd I was being earlier today, talking about cultivating chitlids in the caverns. Millions of years of evolution has made their anatomy dependent on nutrients from a trail of seasonal pollens and spores, spread out across a thousand different habitats spanning the length of the world. I can\u2019t think of a single animal more unsuited to life underground.\n<\/p>\n \nI press my temple, logging a note to cancel the exploratory chitlid trial, first thing tomorrow morning.\n<\/p>\n \nI don\u2019t cry for what\u2019s lost, or what will be. It was a passing madness.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" \u201cChih-Tih!\u201d Nall squeals, probing the translucent air bladder. \u201cYes, baby, Chitlids.\u201d My voice comes out tight. The spring has been so late, so cold\u2014I\u2019d thought we\u2019d seen the last of the Chitlids. But this morning we awoke to hundreds of them, dragging their long tentacles through the air between the swaying dandular trunks. Nall grasps …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":106748,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3,19941],"tags":[19942],"class_list":["post-137544","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fiction","category-tcl-33-autumn-2019","tag-the-colored-lens-33-autumn-2019","entry entry-center"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/137544","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/106748"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=137544"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/137544\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":137545,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/137544\/revisions\/137545"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=137544"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=137544"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=137544"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
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