Matched

Brenda & Zibry

Zibry felt dazed as he, Quinton and Tor listened to Captain Ream's instructions. Roco had excused himself without reason or apology minutes before.

'I did not permit you to leave!' Captain Ream had called after him but the door had clicked shut behind him.

They were to return to Rictor 5's orbit. Far enough away that the Rictorians would not notice but close enough to take action if it were warranted. "Take action" because of what, Zibry didn't ask.

'Quinton, the authorities on Zibon 8 want you to conduct cellular matching for every man on this ship,' Captain Ream said. 'Every female must be fertile and healthy and of a certain age, understood?'

Quinton raised his eyebrows.

'They have sent me a checklist of criteria for you to follow. It's extensive and specific.'

'Everyone, Captain?' Quinton said.

'Yes, it includes me,' Captain Ream scowled. 'Those are the orders.' The captain turned and looked out through the window. The back of his neck was flushed. 'You know your duties.'

The three Zibons left.

'I cannot believe this,' Quinton said as they walked down the corridor together.

Tor was silent, his expression fixed. Zibry was staring down at his shoes as he pondered his future in a way he'd never done before. Unbidden images flooded his mind: the mark on Brenda's lovely face, little hands and feet, a baby's cry. It made his heart beat hard.

He felt strange, like his life had turned upside down. And if it does—are you prepared to go back to Zibon 8 and live your life as a father and nothing more? A father. He could be a father. The thought made him feel numb, like he was dreaming.

How would Brenda feel about it? She would be ecstatic, surely. They hadn't really spoken about conception since before they'd bonded.

And what about babies?

No babies. We cannot. We are too different.

Looking back now, he thought he remembered something almost like pain passing over her face, though he'd been to ignorant to really perceive it at the time, all thoughts bent on bonding with her. He should have been more aware. More present. All women wanted to have babies—it was in their nature. And he'd taken it away from her without a second thought.

But it would be different now. Drake and Alexis were pregnant. It had to be viable. And yet the heaviness in his belly wouldn't go away. He rounded his shoulders, feeling a pressure bearing down upon him. And he suddenly realised that the feeling wasn't his—Brenda was anxious.

He quickened his pace, the growing excitement in his own chest battling against Brenda's gnawing sensation in his belly. It was uncomfortable. A little sickening.

Zibry ignored the other two as he turned away towards his room. He could hear their footsteps echoing into the distance. Opening his door, Zibry stepped inside. He looked around the room.

'Brenda?'

She smiled up at him as she sat at their table, then lowered her face again, her expression shielded behind her long red hair. She was scrolling through one of his electronic notebooks.

'How was the meeting?' she said in a too-high voice.

He ignored her question. 'How are you?'

She shrugged but kept her face hidden behind her hair. 'Fine.'

'You can't hide your feelings from me. What's wrong?'

She shook her head. Zibry felt his own throat swell as her tears pressed against the back of her throat.