Chapter 20 — by lhansenauthor

Picture credit pixabay, cordi_vahle.

A blue ball, mottled with cloud systems, grew in the distance until it filled the view screens.

"Hey, Captain, we've achieved Earth orbit," ALI said.

Hana groped for something to say, but found herself to be plain out of words. They'd done it. They found the lost cradle.

For quite a while, no one said anything, not even ALI.

"Shall we go down?" Sanju was shifting in xeir seat as if it harbored a pile of Mushorhavian fire bugs.

Hana cleared her throat. "Yes. Yes, please."

"Let's do this in style, shall we, Captain?" ALI said. Seconds later, a metallic klaxon filled the bridge, whooping louder than a drunk Hiwjshi.

"Initializing shuttle separation. Starting descent." ALI's voice projected the charm of an empty cargo container. It also echoed like one.

A tremor traveled through the lander, followed by an odd squeaking noise.

"Oops," ALI said, still in her container persona. "Looks like the clasps need a bit of TLC. Oh, well. Shit happens."

The squeaking grew in volume until it shut off with a jerk, only to segue into a lurching motion that pushed little Phili uncomfortably close to Hana's bladder.

She squeezed her legs together as the shuttle bucked again, slamming Hana into her harness. Distant stars drifted along the forward view screen like pale embers lost in the dark. The lander was in its final descent.

"Doesn't sound like proper landing protocol to me." Hana dug her fingers into the padding of her captain's seat. It didn't help one bit with the bucking. Instead, she dug a hole into the cracked cover. Discolored foam poured out.

Sanju clawed at xeir crest. "In the name of all plorks, ALI, what are you up to?" The purple of xeir skin had paled to a washed-out magenta, a sure sign the Hiwjshi agent wasn't happy. Bright orange spots surfaced on the scales, only to vanish again.

Why did xe survive? Why not Phili?

The thought wasn't worthy of Hana, so she shoved it aside.

"Hey, there's a lot of rubbish hanging around here, you know? It's not all easy to maneuver. You better hold on, both of you. Especially our expectant mother. In such a late state of pregnancy, unexpected movements can have nasty side effects. Not at all advisable to—"

"Cut it out," Hana snapped. "Told you I've had it up to here with the expectant mother comments."

The turbulent ride didn't do a thing for her mood. And there was an odd sensation now spreading in her belly. It wasn't pain—yet. It wasn't bad—yet. A warmth that shouldn't be there sent a dull ache crawling through her nervous system.

"Noted." ALI's voice was more metallic than ever.

The lander bounced again and then dropped as if buffeted by a windstorm.

"Surely we haven't reached the atmosphere yet," Sanju said. "There's no reason for all this—whoa."

Their transport executed half a somersault and straightened again. ALI didn't respond while the lander gathered speed, dropping, dropping all the time.

Something pinged. Such a tiny noise. Why did it send an army of chilled spider-droids down Hana's back?

"Proximity alert", ALI screeched.

Hana's heartbeat launched itself back to the Kuiper belt as the lander careened sideways and the harness cut into her chest, blocking the air supply. Bruise-colored blotches rose in front of her eyes. The pressure on her belly increased, followed by a spasm that made her gasp. Fortunately, it was gone as fast as it had arrived.

Something large zipped past the port viewer. Hana had a brief impression of solar panels, a tube-like body, and weird little protrusions. Then the thing was gone. Or rather, they'd shot past it.

Mind the dreck.

Hana jumped in her seat, and this time the bounce wasn't caused by the shuttle's gyrations.

The voice, immaterial like a dream, had enough power to echo through Hana's brain. It also gave the distinct impression of being not one voice, but many. Or a voice composed of many beings.

Something along those lines, anyway.

"There's another one." ALI had dumped her container voice and sounded simply scared. It didn't improve things.

More bucking and lurching, as another huge object blurred past the viewer, this one rounder and smaller.

We seriously advise you to mind the dreck.

"Who...who are you?" Sanju asked.

"Oh, you can hear it....them...xem as well?"

"Telepathic entity detected," ALI said. "Keep your dirty mind away from my neurons."

If you don't want to suffer her fate, take it easy on the attitude.

"Whose fate?" Hana asked. Another cramp sent a sharp pain into her belly and she winced.

What the void was wrong with her? It couldn't be little Phili. He wasn't due yet, not for quite a while. Please?

"Are you experiencing, uh...procreation issues?" Sanju asked, xeir scales still pale with panic.

Yes, she is. So was the other one. Do you want help or not?

"Is this Earth?" Hana asked. "If it is, yes, we'd like to land safely, please."

"I can do this," ALI said, sounding hurt.

Yes, this is Earth. And no, you can't. There's more of the stuff lurking in LEO.

"In what?" Sanju asked. "Are you referring to the stellar constellation visible from Earth—"

We're referring to Low Earth Orbit. Space debris, to be precise. After all this time, it should've dropped back to the planet's surface, but some of the smaller bits are still whizzing about. Just because they can. They can also punch a hole in your alien body faster than you can say—what did you say earlier? Plork? We like that.

"Plorks aren't likeable."

Sanju was cracking xeir finger joints, and the popping noise grated on Hana's overwrought nerves. Wanting the shit to stop, she opened her mouth. But she closed it with a snap as another cramp burrowed deep into her being. Something was wrong. Seriously wrong, and she needed to get down to the surface. To safety. Like now.

"Do it," she yelled.

Do what?

"Get us down."

All righty. On it.

"Listen—"

"ALI, do me a favor and cut the decibels," Sanju said.

"You don't know this entity, but you trust it more than me? Me, your loyal AI? The AI that—"

The pain was searing, as if giant claws were digging into Hana's innards. She gasped—and bit her cheek. A metallic taste flooded her mouth.

Ow!

Sudden clarity lifted the fog in her brain. The smarting cheek wasn't her biggest problem by far. Nor was the "dreck" in orbit and the weird entity controlling the lander.

Her heart fisted. Those were contractions. She was in labor.

Here and now, while the shuttle was jerking and twisting as if chased by a mindless nightmare. Here and now, when it was much too early.

"Please, can't you wait a bit, Phili? It's not...convenient."

Another spasm.

Right here and right now.

The front viewer lit up in fiery colors. Warmth radiated from the walls. The lander groaned. Its jerking and shuddering became more pronounced.

Going down. Relax, we gotcha. Bit of a wreck, this thing.

A burnt chemical reek drifted through the cabin.

"Atmospheric descent," ALI announced, sounding peeved. "I like atmospheric descents."

She said more, but it was swallowed into the cramps.

A concerned gray-blue face surfaced in Hana's mind, a face without a body, the kind mind behind it lost forever. Worried eyes reflected the vast emptiness of the void between the galaxies.

Phili, dead because of her.

Was she dying now? She and little Phili both?

"Hana?" Sanju said. "Hana?"

"She's about to give birth! Push, you need to push. Oh no, hang on. Too early for that. Breathe, focus on your breathing."

Just like last time.

"Get us down," she whispered. Then the pain took over, and her environment fizzled out into nothingness. Only the pain remained and stayed with her for a long, long time.

Until an intense heat crested in her body and exploded in a last convulsion. A feeble wail reached her ears.

Then nothing.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the world returned. First, there was a tickle of warm rays on the skin of Hana's bare arms. Then the surface she lay on registered. It shifted as she moved and crackled quietly. A plasti-sheet? No, it felt—natural. Plant-based fibers, more likely.

She blinked.

Something blinked back, so she opened her eyes.

And squinted them shut the next moment. A bright, tangerine glare stung her eyes, drawing tears. She wiped them away.

Her body was oddly light, lighter than it had been for a long time. It also felt sore, plagued by the memory of a monstrous pain she never, ever wanted to experience again. It was crazy, really. How could anyone be forced to endure such a pain?

But a part of her had left along with the torment. A precious part.

Hana's hands flew to her belly, soft and sagging.

Little Phili was gone. She'd carried him all the way to Humanity's lost cradle—and now the cradle was empty.

It was too much. First she lost the original Phili. Now her baby, little Phili, was gone as well, leaving her with a yearning as sharp as the pain had been.

"Noo." Hana's scream was lost in the light.

Cool it. Your baby's fine. It's your hormones acting up something chronic. Your AI explained.

Hana gulped down another scream. "Where's my baby? I want my baby." Her boobs ached in response.

Your alien midwife is looking after the mite. He's fine. A bit on the small side. We thought human babies would be bigger. But your AI cooked up some nutrients, and he's sleeping. Leave him be. He's fine.

"I want to see my baby."

Let him sleep, we said. Mamma Mia, hormones must be a beast.

The entity was worse than ALI. But xeir words had the ring of truth she needed to wrestle with the rising crazy.

Hana scrambled to her feet and shaded her face with her hands. The cover someone had placed over her slipped into the sand. White and soft, it spread all around her to a rounded beach where wavelets lapped and glugged, emissaries of the glittery ocean that lay beyond. An enormous ball of fire was nearing the horizon, framed by a bank of clouds. Sol was setting.

White and gray birds circled, sending their raucous caws into the reddening skies. A breeze cooled first her face, then her breasts and belly.

Hana looked down. She was standing on the Human home planet, buck-naked apart from her necklace, blood smeared over her legs.

This wouldn't do.

She marched toward the shore and splashed into the water. Warmer than blood, it welcomed her aching body into a reduced-gravity embrace. As tempting as the water might be, she craved to hold her baby, to reassure herself that little Phili really was fine.

Hana dove under and surfaced again. She shook herself, sending droplets flying from her wet strands, which she then wrung out. At least the blood had washed off. It would have to do for the moment.

Something moved in the water, drifted up, and swirled around her legs.

With a shriek, Hana jumped backward, stumbled and splashed around until her feet hit the sand and she stood again. Slowly, she crab-stepped toward the shore.

No need to freak. If we wanted you dead, why would we have guided you through the dreck?

"Huh?"

She bent over the surface. The orange glow of the human Sol setting sent sparks dancing on the water and made it hard to work out what might be going on under the surface. It looked like a long, shimmery band of particles, some of them smaller than the nail of her pinkie, some as large as her hand. The band was in constant motion, always drifting and shifting in synch with a soundless beat.

Hello. Welcome to planet Earth. We're very glad you made it.

"Thank you. I guess, without your help, it would've been a bit more difficult."

Impossible, more likely. The debris broke up, got smaller all the time, and couldn't be mapped anymore. They got the orbiters out to the ark ships while they still could. Lost quite a few. Eventually, they had to stop and the sorry rest of humanity was marooned down here.

"Why did they evacuate in the first place?"

Look around you. What do you see?

She looked. "Uh, an island? A funny-looking mountain rising from the jungle? Lots of ocean?"

This used to be the Keelee-Mmanjaroo. A volcano. A high volcano, we should say. Humans fucked around with global warming. Sea levels rose at a speed no one thought possible. And what was left was polluted. Like the oceans. And the atmosphere.

Hana's stomach clenched. "Uh, I swam in polluted water? You're telling me the cradle is toxic?"

Cradle? Is that your name for this place? Nah, it's okay. We sorted things out. Took a while.

"And the remaining humans?"

Are a goner, I'm afraid. Most of their cities are under water, anyway.

Hana swallowed. "So, I'm the first human to walk the Earth in—what—over two-thousand years?"

Walk, yes. The other one never got as far.

"Amber."

We don't know her name. But she carried a little one, like you. She wanted the girl born here. But she refused our help. Didn't trust us, see? We can show you.

The ghost of the nausea returned, but Hana pushed it away. "Later."

There were several pertinent questions she should ask, such as who the entity was and where it came from. And why it helped them. The simple fact it did was enough for the moment.

Her baby was safe. Only little Phili mattered.

She waded from the water and wrapped herself in the discarded blanket.

"Ah," Sanju said from behind. "You are feeling better. I've got something for you."

She swung around, the ruby pendant swinging over her breasts.

The Hiwjshi towered over her, a happy red flushing xeir scaly body. Xeir long fingers interlaced and supported a tiny form swaddled in palm fronds, a little green packet Sanju held against xeir chest.

The color clash was wild, but the fondness in Sanju's eyes more than made up for it.

Sanju extended xeir arms and presented her with a sleeping baby. "He's all yours. But you were totally out of it, so we did what we could. Even the entity helped."

Hana accepted the precious bundle and gazed in wonder at the tiny face, the delicate fingers, at eyes all scrunched up, at little flower-bud lips that latched on to her breast and suckled.

The desire to protect this amazing new person burned fiercely, hotter than a supernova. Swamped by love, she felt like bawling, whooping, and swooning all at once.

But that would confuse the baby.

Her son. Her little Phili. Born in the cradle of humanity, the first Human in two millennia. Her mother would be so proud. Okay, she'd been wrong about the sex, but who cared about such things. Later, she'd slip the necklace over his head, like her mother wanted.

Breathing in the unique baby scent of her beautiful son, she whispered, "Thank you. For everything."

"Uh, well, your timing was...interesting." Green spots flickered over Sanju's scales. "If you are ready, Nano—that's the entity—wants to take us to...Amber."

Hana held her baby closer. "She died."

"Yes."

With Phili in her arms, she had the strength to do anything and be it facing Amber's bones, so she followed the Hiwjshi along the ocean shore. The sun was hovering over the horizon, painting a long golden trail over the water as if it wanted to build a bridge between the lost traveler and her.

She wasn't usually so maudlin. Maybe ALI was right for once, and the hormones were acting up. After the recent turmoil, her hormones had the bloody right to act up.

Emerging from the trees, they hit upon a small lagoon filled with crystal clear water—and the burned, rusted remains of a broken spaceship. There wasn't much left. Only the rounded tip of what might have been the pilot cabin and a few other jagged pieces scattered on the beach.

"To me, this looks like her lander broke up in midair," Sanju said gently. "She never stood a chance."

Hana's tears blurred a scene that was oddly peaceful. Weeds and mosses covered the remains like a green, furry pelt.

"She wouldn't have suffered much, would she?"

"Most likely not. The remains...her body dropped into the sea, and Nano buried her there. Made sure it was...safe." More green spots flickered on Sanju's scales.

"You mean, safe as in...not eaten."

"Uh, yes."

Little Phili smacked and blew moisture from his lips. But he remained fast asleep.

"Who is Nano, anyway?"

"Xei better tell you that xemselves."

Hana turned her back on the pathetic wreckage and faced the setting sun over the sea. They sky was criss-crossed with clouds, which made the blue in between burn with a fierce determination, as if it wanted to hold out as long as possible

The sea...oh, galaxies, the sea.

It was rising in a frothy rippling line that reached from the shore to the horizon, sparkling with gazillions of components, some of them finned, some of them just scraps of material.

The entity...Nano was huge.

"Uh..."

You're getting all upset again.

Hana hugged her child closer. "Well, yes. You are pretty scary."

No, we're not.

A blue-gray water creature arched from the swarm, hovered in the air for a moment, glittering with moisture and waggling its fins. Then it re-joined the others.

Had the critter been grinning?

The swarm shimmied over the surface of the sea, forming and reforming patterns so strange they felt familiar. Nano moved and danced, shifted and drifted, all washed in the peachy glow from the setting sun.

"You're also beautiful."

Thank you. We believe we are.

That made her laugh. She shifted the sleeping bundle in her arms. "Did Humans create you?"

In a way, yes. In another way, we're dreck, just like the stuff you sailed through. Humans used the oceans as a rubbish tip and there was plenty of nano-plastic and stuff drifting around and giving the water critters a hard time. But this planet is amazing. It can create life from anything.

"The leftover sandwich that spawned life on Earth."

You got it. Mind you, the dreck in space got the short end of the deal. Out there, it'll never be sentient. But we bonded with the fish—they were full of us anyway—and then bang, there was intelligence. Us.

"And...the Humans?"

Had just gone extinct, so we took over what was left and fixed what we could.

"I think you are amazing," Hana said, meaning it.

"This planet is amazing," Sanju said. "It's as if it will create life, no matter what happens."

It does. Even Amber isn't lost.

"How is that possible?" Sanju asked. "She crashed and died."

We buried her in the sea. Her memories are now ours. Through us, she lives on.

Oh? Did Nano send her a projection of Amber all the way to New Earth? She didn't dare to ask.

What are your plans now that you found this place? You're not scuttling off again, once you're fit, are you? We could do with a bit of company.

"I'm no Human. I'm Hiwshji," Sanju said.

Doesn't matter. You're welcome to stay. And maybe bring in some more peeps? We like to talk to people.

Hana and Sanju looked at each other.

"What about your mission?" she asked. "You wanted to find amber. Real amber, didn't you? For your agency."

Disgust flitted over Sanju's scaly face. "I've changed my mind. I'm done with being an agent."

Little Phili suckling softly sent another wave of all-engulfing warmth into her core.

"Your boss—"

"Is a plork. I'm done with xem as well." Xe looked around and nodded. "This I like much better. Endless spaces. Endless chances."

Business opportunities?

"That as well, but let's not overdo it. You turned a disaster into a paradise. We'd better not revert the process."

"Hah," Hana said. "A handful of people might be fine. But they'll soon turn into a crowd."

We are the crowd.

Hana snorted. "You are quite the character. But this is your home planet now. Do you really want to share it?"

Why not? As long as we keep a lid on things, it should work out. See, there's no point in having great beaches and plenty of water, when there are no beach bars.

Sanju grinned. "I like that. But we need alcohol. And a place for this." Xe wriggled the lava lamp dangling from xeir fingers.

Your ship is in orbit, so you can go shopping anytime. But in the meantime, you can start with the coconuts. And there's plenty more on the other islands. Enough for some really inventive cockatiels. No, hang on. Cocktails, the things were called. Sorry, it's been a while. Lots of information lost.

Hana swung around, facing the lander parked under a cluster of spindly palm trees. "ALI? Do you have access to cocktail recipes?"

"You only just gave birth. It's not advisable—"

Hana sighed.

Some things never changed.

Dedicated to Elisabeth_Long for the great coop

Interview with the author of this chapter