Chapter Thirteen: The Grudge — Part 2

Though Yap was delivering nearly a month early, she assured Orchid that the child would be born healthy, not premature. She looked worried despite her words, so Orchid stayed close, doing her best to act as midwife to the cyborg. Androids weren’t known for their expressiveness, so any emotional expression, no matter how insignificant, that managed to work its way onto Yap’s face might be something of a concern, even for Yap, who was known for her deeper emotional capacity. That momentary hint of fear, therefore, nagged at Orchid’s barely verbal portion of her brain, poking at her even as the head began to crown. Some moments later, Nikkei joined them.

Despite experiencing the same kind of pain and pleasure any woman might feel during childbirth, Yap bore her child in a calm, dignified manner, describing the pain of delivery as ‘conclusive and orgasmic.’ Orchid had no idea exactly what that meant, but cleaned and wrapped the child in a soft blanket, putting him directly into Yap’s arms. Yap held the baby boy close to her, Nikkei leaning over and hugging Yap, a carefully concealed sort of pride on her face. The baby was pale skinned, with red hair. He looked, for all intents and purposes, a happy, healthy child, not a month premature, with no immediate indication of poor health.

Two hours changed everythiung. The baby was struggling with some unexpected illness. The illness was causing his flesh to bruise and heal in a rapid, unnatural fashion. Each bruise in turn caused a spike of temperature, and a disturbing session of wails, while his little heart raced along at nearly twice its natural speed. His fever and collapse was synchronized with Yap’s unexpected decline. Yap fell into the android equivalent of a coma, and Orchid called her brother in to help bring Yap back online. Though Bamboo did everything he could to find the cause, it became apparent that he lacked an understanding of cyborg medical complications: Even with their combined mental resources, the twin geniuses found themselves without help. All that was apparent was that Yap’s organic components were dying, and her android self could not sustain its sensory network without the hume core. Nikkei was left with a sickened, hungry child whose mother could not breastfeed, and who might not be around to raise it into adulthood.

Bamboo suggested, with some considerable desperation, getting outside help. “Yap is dying from the inside out, both biologically and electronically. The only person in the galaxy with knowledge of Yap’s unique physiology is Elec. We can do nothing more for her.”

Orchid’s head dropped, angry that despite her incredible intellect, treating a sick and dying android was not something she was capable of. “Spunky, how long will it take for you to contact Elec?”

“Elec has been contacted and is in transit. She is due to arrive within the hour.” Glyph answered.

“Why did you contact Elec without my asking?” Orchid asked, though her question was more scientific in nature than one of concern.

“Because I came to the conclusion Bamboo did well over an hour and a half ago, and both Spunky and I knew it would take Elec considerable time to get here, given the tremendous distance of her home offices from Earth.” Glyph answered.

The minutes preceding Elec’s arrival stretched painfully. A massive Snap opened into Orchid’s study, sucking air out of the house in response to the pressure differential on both sides of the hole. Elec stepped out, an entourage of hume and android assistants following behind her, dragging dozens of portable monitors and boxes of medical supplies. Their bodies angled against the artificial wind, which stopped only when the gate of the Snap closed behind them. None of them looked happy to have been dragged across the galaxy, especially given the circumstances.

Yap had been moved to the study after the delivery, and Elec studied her creation with a number of curious handheld devices. With each new piece of information about Yap’s condition, Elec lost a little more color from her face. She put a hand on Orchid’s shoulder, squeezing until Orchid could feel the pressure build on her shoulder and collarbone. The embrace was meant to be a motion of compassion, but Elec’s hands, strengthened by years of working with metal and bone, could not relate a gentle touch.

“How’s the baby?” Elec asked.

“Weak but recovering. Nikkei is watching.” Orchid said.

“Tend to its needs. If its health worsens, bring it to me. You and your brother did well. I think I shall be able to salvage things from here on out.” Elec said, curbing her frustration with what seemed to be monumental effort, “No worries,” Elec said as they headed toward the kitchen, “The Yap you know and love is in no immediate danger. I doubt anybody is to blame for the complications she is experiencing. Please now, just let us get her to the kitchen.”