[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

'I thought I . . .' Isthia faltered and looked keenly at Elizara.
'Did you catch anything?' Elizara frowned but she was patently sharpening her
senses, listening with that other sensitivity which all three women had in
generous measure.
There! Isthia said.
The Rowan had felt something, just at the very edge of her own deep range.
Too distant. Anger! Pain!
Whose? Isthia added in a very thoughtful tone. The source defeats me. I
don't think it was human!
Elizara regarded her with surprise. How could you hear it, then?
'I heard it, too,' the Rowan reminded the medic. She grimaced.
'None of our kin at least,' she added to reassure Isthia. Or shall I give a
shout and be sure for you?
Slowly Isthia shook her head, frowning with puzzlement. Then, shaking off the
brief thrall determinedly, she smiled at the other two.
'If it had been you, Rowan, we could put it down to prenatal nerves.
The Rowan sighed with deep exasperation, and stroked her extended abdomen.
'C'mon, now, son, get in to position and let's end this waiting. You're old
enough to be born now.
Two days later, as splendid Jupiter rose to obscure deep space from those in
the Callisto dome, Jeran Raven decided to take his mother's advice. The baby
dropped his head into the birth canal, precipitating the breaking of the
Rowan's waters, and almost before
Elizara could help the Rowan block the pain, long and intense contractions
began.
Just off duty from the Tower, Jeff arrived as Isthia and Elizara were making
the Rowan as comfortable as possible.
'Now is the time for hands-on,' Elizara told him, 'to reassure your son. This
is the difficult part for him and he must not draw back or resist.' It
comforted the Rowan tremendously to have Jeff's strong body supporting her,
his hands stroking her; to join mental forces in urging their son to endure
this brief discomfort and be made welcome in the world of the living.
Isn't it a shade hypocritical of us, the Rowan said very privately to Jeff, to
require him to leave the safety of the womb, for how can we promise him safety
when we've never known it?
So you want to stay pregnant for the rest of your life? Was
Jeff's reply as he smoothed back silver hair already damp with sweat.
Page 126
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
NO!
Then push! Elizara urged. Take Isthia's hands!
Isthia's strong hands anchored her through the massive contractions that
followed: hands that also soothed and eased the involuntary spasms.
'Those contractions are fierce, Isthia remarked.
'Not unusually so,' Elizara replied, 'and at five minute intervals.' 'Is he
resisting or is it me?' The Rowan asked, panting with relief as a particularly
severe contraction ended.
'A little of both,' Elizara replied, and the Rowan could find no qualification
in the Talent's mind. I never lie to my patients!
Not to this one, you couldn't!
Nor in the present company she's keeping, Elizara added, her tone amused.
'All right, now, here comes another one.' They all sensed the child's sudden
reluctance as the pressures of his mother's womb caught him in an inexorable
rhythum. He disliked the sensation: it frightened him. He was instantly
reassured of warmth and love and comfort if he did not falter. He did not
like this experience at all.
I'm not much enjoying it right now myself, my son, the Rowan told him and then
could not even think as a particularly hard contraction seized her. She
clasped Isthia's hands in a grip that she feared would bruise the flesh.
Hold hard!
To the Rowan, caught by the inexorable process of birthing, the struggle with
her son seemed to go on interminably. The contractions came more frequently,
lasted longer and but for the nerve blocks she would have been in some agony.
As it was, the muscular strain wearied her.
Please, Jeran, please! she cried, wondering how much more of this she could
endure.
Gripped by yet another massive contraction, she felt Elizara and
Isthia place hands on her heaving abdomen, and this contraction seemed to be
abetted by their minds, overruling Jeran's resistance. As the boy's head
passed out of the birth canal, he gave a terrible cry, mental and physical, of
protest, of resentment, of fear.
'You are born, my son,' the Rowan cried with mind and mouth as she opened her
eyes to see Elizara receive the baby's wet and wriggling body in her hands.
Jeran wailed again, a confused and angry cry at the difference of environment,
the noise, the cold, the disorientation.
There, there! three adult minds consoled him. There, there. You are loved,
you are wanted. Here, now, you will be warm. You will be comforted.
Elizara deposited the baby on his mother's newly deflated belly while she
performed the necessary post natal offices.
'Even upside down, you're beautiful,' the Rowan told Jeran, intercepting one
of his violently waving hands as he continued to
complain on several levels about the brutal treatment he had just been
through. He's so strong!
So angry! and Jeff's tone was immediately proud and relieved.
Now, now, my beautiful boy! Its all over.
Lord no, i?s just starting, Isthia replied. 'Good lungs on him,'
she added approvingly.
He has obviously inherited your voice, mother, Jeff said.
That birth shout was loud enough to reach Deneb!
And you're sori-spoken? Isthia teased back, beaming with joy, at the
successful birth.
'Just over four kilos,' Elizara said, pleased. 'You wouldn't want any heavier
a child, Rowan. And no worse for the passage. Now we will all soothe him on
the most primitive levels.
Ganging up on my poor son? asked Jeff, fatuously smiling down at
Jeran.
Soothing your not at all poor son, Elizara rebuked him.
Page 127
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
This is the most important part for a child as obviously Talented as Jeran is.
Hands-on! Isthia, begin on the metamorphic levels.
Rowan won't want him operating on a psionic high over the next few months.
As Isthia stroked the sturdy little feet, she began to croon softly. Elizara
and Jeff sponged him clean, all the time soothing him with touch, mind and
voice. Soon he was yawning and quite willing to drift off into sleep.
When the afterbirth was delivered and the Rowan made comfortable again in her
bed, the sleeping child was placed in her arms and Jeff stretched out beside
them both, his eyes dark and brimming with love.
I never thought I would feel quite this intensely about a baby who will
shortly drive us both demented with infantile needs, Jeff said.
On his forefinger, he tipped up Jeran '5
little hand which opened to curl about it. I'll be the most impossible father
in the galaxy.
Jeran IS quite the most marvelous baby, the Rowan agreed, as fatuous with [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]