“By the end of the rainy season,” she said, “I started to worry that some other family’s pheromones might be similar enough to yours to trigger a quickening. But by then, the scrap had already left for the gardens.”
“I’m Tevul,” said the scrap. “You can say my name.”
“So I had already missed the weaning,” Valun continued, “and the chance to share scents with all of you. The humans told me that they could end diapause artificially, so I could control when I had the baby. I was sure that you all still wanted him, so I agreed. And here I am. I timed him for the eclipse so that we could all, as a family, I mean…” There was a sudden, vast, and inevitable loosening inside of her, and once again she felt her body slipping from her control. Something trickling, tickling through her birth canal.
“You should have told us.” Silmien’s scent was bitter as a nut. “Why did this have to be a surprise?”
“Because she isn’t staying,” said Mam. “You want to go back to the aliens, isn’t that it? Your humans.” She made it sound like a curse. “Who are you having this baby for, us or yourself?”
“Mam, I…” Valun pumped her knees together convulsively, then spread them apart wide. “The baby…” She kneaded her belly. “Help, Silmien!”
Silmien and Tevul rallied to her. No question that she could feel the baby now, wriggling, pulling himself into her vagina with his ridiculous little arms. It occurred to her that at this moment in time she had family inside and out. What odd thoughts she was having tonight! She giggled again. The scrap was licking her face and sobbing, “Ma-ma-ma. Oh, ma!” Valun could feel Silmien’s hands on her vulva, delicately opening her as he had opened her just once before, controlling her as only a father should, fingers basketed to catch the baby. She had forgotten how much pleasure there was in giving birth, ecstasy of mind and body to smell hot, wet life scrabbling toward the world. “Oh,” she said, as the final dribble of birth waters leaked out of her, and Silmien held the baby high, offering it to the moons. “Oh.”
Silmien brought the baby down so that she and Tevul could see. He was just four centimeters long and almost lost in the palm of his proud father’s hand.
“He’s so tiny, so pink,” said Tevul. “Where are his eyes?”
“They’ll grow.” Silmien’s voice was husky. He brought the baby to his face and cleaned him gently with the tip of his tongue. The baby’s mouth opened and closed. The arms wriggled uselessly.
“Stop.” The harshness of Mam’s voice startled Valun. “What are you doing?”
“Washing the baby,” said Silmien.
“There is no baby.”
Valun propped herself on an elbow, her head savagely cleared of the moist joy of birth. Mam’s scent was like a hook up her nose; Valun had never smelled anyone so angry.
“Here.” Silmien offered it to her. “See it.”
“A baby has a mother,” said Mam. “There is no mother here, only a father. This is an experiment by the humans. Take it back to them. Tell them that it has failed.”
“Mam, no, Mam!” said Tevul. “He can only live outside a few minutes. He has to start crawling to your pouch now. Look, he’s already shivering.”
“Mam,” said Silmien. “Our baby will die.”
“Then put it on her.” Main turned contemptuously to Valun. “Let her open her pouch. Let her love it.”
“I have no pouch, Mam,” said Valun. “Only you can take care of him.” She could see that the baby was distressed. “Please, tell me what you want.” He curled into a ball and unrolled with a spasm. “Mam, I’ll do anything!” Whatever crumb of brain the baby had must have registered that something was wrong. He should already be threading through his Mam’s fur, not still flailing across his father’s hand.
“I have nothing to say to an out,” said Mam. “I will talk to its mother. Does anyone know where she is?”
“There’s no time for this,” said Silmien.
“What do you want from me, Totta?” Valun could tell that it had been a long time since anyone had used Mam’s name. “I’m Valun. The mother.”
Mam’s eyes narrowed. “I want you to care about someone else other than yourself,” she said. “I want your story to be a lovestory, Valun.”
Valun struggled up off the settle. The world spun crazily for a few seconds, but she got it under control. She cupped her hands and extended them to Silmien. “Give him to me.”
He brought his hands on top of hers and opened them. Silmien was sobbing as the baby slid onto her palm. Valun had never held a baby before. It weighed less than a berry and yet it was as heavy a burden as she had ever carried. “Will you take my place, Totta?” She nodded at the settle.
Mam hesitated for a moment, but then stretched out, facing Valun. She kept her legs closed, however, and clutched her knees to her chest to cover her pouch. Valun held the baby just above her.
“Totta, Silmien, Tevul, I will stay with you and be this one’s mother.” Valun astonished herself. In just one season the humans had taught her more about her own biology than she had learned in a lifetime of study. How could she turn away from that knowledge? “I’ll be here to give him his name,” she continued, “and I won’t leave until he has come out of the gardens with his own family. I will do this for the love of him and against my best interests. But I will not sleep with you, Silmien, and there will be no mam baby from this family. No more babies at all. I can’t be what you want, and you must all accept that. When Tevul and this scrap are grown up, I will go back to Pelotto again and study with the humans. I hope it won’t be too late. Until then, I will study patience.”
Mam did not unbend. “I heard many words, but hardly anything of love. What kind of mother are you?”
The baby was on the move again, scrambling up the side of Valun’s cupped hands. “I will love this baby because I have given up so much for him,” she said. “That is the truth, by my name.”
“It’s not a happy ending.” Mam was still not convinced.
“Totta,” said Silmien, “this is not a story.”
“Mam.” Valun tilted her hands to show her the baby’s blunt head. “Someone’s hungry.”
Mam closed her eyes. Her face was hard with grief as she opened her legs. Valun laid her hands on Mam’s belly and let the baby slip through her fingers. He landed on his back but flipped himself immediately. Driven by instinct, guided by scent, he crawled unerringly for the pouch. With each heroic wriggle forward that the baby took, Mam’s face softened. When she opened her eyes again, they were bright as stars. Valun tried to imagine herself as a mam. A difference in her family’s birth order and it could have been.
Valun could smell the buttery scent of relief melting from Silmien and Tevul. And once the baby had found the nipple, Mam’s nursing bliss filled Valun’s nose like spilled perfume. All these happy smells made Valun a little ill. This had certainly not turned out the way she had wanted. She wondered what fool had made all those promises. How could Valun keep them?
How could she not?
“Ma-ma-ma!” Tevul hugged Valun, just like she used to, but then she was still a tween and had so much to learn about being a mother.