The Chosen 7: Renewed
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G. M. Marks
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Nature’s Failings
Book 7: Renewed
FRIZZ
Frizz tapped his nails against his teeth as he sat before his console. His forehead was sore from frowning, and his eyes felt heavy enough that they felt like they were hanging out of his head.
Worried was not a big enough word.
Leaning back in his seat, he smoothed his hands over his bald head. The authorities were not going to like it, but he had no choice. They had no choice.
Their species had no choice. Difficult things had to be done.
God knew there was nothing Frizz desired more than bringing new Zibons into the world, holding their tiny, squirming bodies carefully in his giant hands, hearing their healthy lungs screaming, enjoying the astonishment on the couples’ faces as he handed them over. It was the best job in the universe.
But nature could be brutal sometimes, and those with the means (like him) must step in and correct its failings. Zibon lives were at risk. Rictorian lives were at risk.
The whole family unit.
He’d read about Aisha. How she’d almost died. They must be more careful.
She, for one, might not survive if she fell pregnant again too soon.
There was no telling. These bonds were strong. Too strong. And if male Zibons were now forced to stay because of that strength…
Six weeks. It was already six weeks since the first birth. Time was running out. Zibon mothers were already fertile again by six months.
As for Rictorian mothers…who knew?
Frizz tapped his teeth again, then pulled out his I-Spy. The last thing he wanted was to disturb the happy couples. Though this particular couple wasn’t all that happy.
He glanced at the time. It wasn’t too late.
He signaled and waited.
“Hello?”
“Tor, I need to speak with you and your lovely Chloe. Would it be best if you came to the examination room, or would you prefer I came to your quarters?”
“Why?”
He was immediately suspicious.
“It is about your contraception. I want to employ it.”
Silence. Then, “We’ll be there.”
Frizz sat on the couch by the door. He stared at the examination bed, thinking of all the women and babies he’d been assessing over the past few weeks.
The women’s quarters had never seen so much activity, and he was tired.
His chin dropped to his chest, then jerked up again at the knock on his door.
In entered the couple.
Frizz stood and grinned. “Welcome. Please, sit.”
He gestured at the bed.
Both were frowning as they sat on the edge of it. Chloe’s mouth was tight, and she was looking down into her lap, shoulders hunched.
Her long brown hair shielded the mark on her eye. Tor was looking angry. Despite all that, their hands were clasped tightly.
“What’s this about?” Tor said. “Bit late, isn’t it, to be thinking about contraception?”
The girl sniffed.
Frizz sat back down. “I’m sorry about that. I’m new to this.”
He leaned forward, hands clasped between his knees. “I need you to make more of these—condoms. I want to see them.”
“Why?”
“I’m worried. We cannot have our females conceiving again so soon after birth. They need time to recover, or it could prove dangerous. It is one of the reasons why we keep you men away. To protect them.”
“And now you can’t do that.”
Frizz nodded. “It is a new era. We require new practices.”
The girl lifted her face. Her tearful eyes were like daggers. “You should have given me the option. You should give us the option because it’s our choice and our right.”
“That was Neeson’s doing, not mine,” Frizz said.
“Would it have made any difference?”
Frizz opened his mouth, then shut it.
“And what do you mean by ‘so soon’?” Tor said.
“One year. It should be one year, at least, before they conceive again.”
“Speak to Chloe, not me,” the Zibon said with a huff. “She’s the one this impacts the most.”
Frizz swiftly turned his focus to the girl. “I am sorry. One year. We should give you one year to recover.”
“And then what?” she said.
He could see her mark now, arching over her left eye, feathery and delicate. It made her look even more beautiful.
“And then what, what?” Frizz said.
“What happens after one year? You’ll just take it away from us? Along with the power over our own bodies?”
“It is natural…”
“Don’t give me natural,” she snapped.
She gestured at the room, at the console, at the ceiling lights, then out the window into the green sky.
“What of any of this is natural? Why is all this technology perfectly acceptable but not my own personal rights?” She scoffed. “Natural. God’s plan. It’s what my father used to say. Well…fuck him. And fuck you.”
Tears were rolling down her cheeks. Her lip was trembling. Tor gripped hard onto her hand. Her distress was unsettling.
Frizz had never encountered a female who didn’t want to have babies. And he certainly hadn’t encountered one who didn’t want to have the baby they were pregnant with. Though, he doubted it was as simple as that.
Emotions were always complex surrounding childbirth. Especially when it came to Rictorians.
“We can speak of it later,” Frizz said quickly, not knowing what to say.
“We can speak of it now.”
“Okay. Okay. I’ll consider it.”
“You will do it,” Tor growled as he sat stiffly beside her. “If you think the breakout of the men’s quarters was bad, just you wait.”
Frizz frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Anything. Everything. The bond means I feel what she feels—and I hate feeling powerless.”
He fisted his free hand in his lap until his knuckles turned white. “It is not in my make-up to submit, especially when it comes to the welfare of my female.”
His yellow eyes were sharp with ferocity.
“All right. So be it. I will petition the authorities. I will fight for you, if that is what you wish.”
Chloe pursed her lips doubtfully. Tor unclenched his fist.
“Good. Good.” Frizz exhaled the tension away. “I want to see this contraception. Neeson said it was plastic.”
“Rudimentary,” Tor said with a grimace. “I’ll admit I did not like it.”
“It won’t work anyway,” Chloe added.
“What do you mean? It seemed to work perfectly well. No pregnancy for about ten months.”
Red glowed in her cheeks. “I think it… I think it has something to do with Zibon semen. It—it has to be i-inside me, the—the regular way.”
Her cheeks flamed further.
“It keeps the bond happy,” Tor explained. “It was virtually unbearable using those damnable things.”
“In what way?”
“It was making us sick, angry—”
“Itchy,” Chloe finished for Tor, rolling her shoulders with a wince.
Frizz’s heart took a little dip. “That makes things…difficult.”
“But you can do other things,” Chloe said desperately. “We do, back on Earth. We take tablets…”
She paused to think. “I think they’re designed to make a woman’s body think it’s pregnant. That’s all I know. You could do that, couldn’t you?”
Her eyes were bright with hope. “You’re smart.”
“I suppose… It will require a team effort,” he said doubtfully.
He was more than doubtful. It sounded impossible. Particularly with their time restraint.
He had to protect these women now.
“We have two very experienced medical specialists here on the ward, plus a science officer,” Tor said pointedly, observing his hesitation. “And then there’s all your team. That’s a lot of great minds thinking together. I’m sure it can be done.”
The two Zibons’ eyes locked. Neither were hopeful.
“Then we better get started. Time is of the essence.” He looked the girl over. Her hair was shielding her face again. “How are you feeling with yours? It’s four weeks now.”
“I don’t feel any different,” she said. “Not yet.”
“My team and I will support you in any way you need,” he told her quietly.
She sniffed and turned her head.
“Thank you for coming,” Frizz said in finality, trying to sound lighthearted. “You have given me much to think about.”
He stood. Tor and Chloe did the same.
“I’ll see you in a couple of days to check your progress. And how is your…unique bond?”
“As tight as ever,” Tor said.
“Strangulation tight,” Chloe agreed.
They smiled grimly at each other. Though their lives weren’t yet perfect, their eyes glittered with such an intense love for each other, Frizz felt a stab of longing that was so poignant it was almost a physical pain.
Their hands were clasped tightly as they left.
Frizz watched them go enviously, then sat back down on his couch, thinking. After a few minutes, he got up and went to his console.
He would need to get his team together. He suddenly felt hopeful. Just like Tor said, they had plenty of skill and experience available.
Surely, they could concoct something. If the Rictorians could do it, Zibons certainly could.
He began typing up both Chloe’s and his request, then sat back into his seat, anxiously tapping his teeth again. They could not refuse Frizz’s personal request at a year’s delay for second births, surely.
But what if they did? He imagined the coming years and winced. He’d come to love these women; he didn’t want them harmed.
Thinking of Chloe, Frizz suddenly shivered. These Rictorians were so delicate, so fragile, when compared with their Zibon partners. If it wasn’t for the bond, they would have no power at all.
It would be so easy to more than just harm them.
Goosebumps popped up all down his arms. Why did he get the feeling something terrible was about to happen?
