And yet distancing myself just seems impossible.
Chapter 9
Zina
“We’re done. You can get dressed once you’re ready.” The doctor turns away, and I hear his instruments clink in the cleansing sink across the med pod. “The procedure was a success, and I see no reason why your sterility won’t reverse in as little as three months. I was able to remove the sterility implant device and your hormones are currently at perfect levels for human procreation. Riya will help with the bandages, so please give her your attention.”
Once he exits the med pod, I sit up and touch my belly. “I feel numb.” My mind, too, is oddly disconnected from what just happened. After the experimentations done on me, it was hard to lie there and let a doctor examine me. I had to leave my body mentally and emotionally to keep from fighting him or running out the door.
But now that it’s over, I should be overjoyed to hear that my fertility is almost a certainty once again. Why am I so despondent?
“The nerve block will wear off in a few minutes. Are you dizzy?” Riya approaches with the bandages.
“No. I don’t think so.” I look around. “That was surprisingly quick.” The med pod is sterile and spare and reminds me of previous… I shudder, pushing away old memories. My leg. I focus on the efforts some being has made to render the place cheerful. There are gauzy curtains on the high, round windows, and a gorgeous drawing—probably setta chalk on a parchment, of a Zandian landscape. It’s calming, and I’m pretty sure a human female drew it. Zandian males don’t seem like they’re much for art.
She nods. “We’ve become quite familiar with the Ocretion devices, and the doctor has a high success rate with reversing
them. Really one hundred percent, to be honest, but we don’t want to promise just in case. You’ll just need to wait for your body to adjust. We’ll give you a medication to take for the next few months, which should help you get accustomed to the new hormones. You may feel more emotional.”
“Okay.” I clench my fists around the white gown. “I understand.” Anxiety gnaws at my gut.
Her voice is soft and gentle. “It will be all right, Zina. May I?” She lifts my gown and shows me the surgery site.
The wound is tiny, barely a centimeter long, and right over my previous scar from the insert surgery. “This will heal up in a few hours with the med pack.”
Even though I am familiar with the speed of Zandian healing, it still boggles my mind. “Wow.”
“By tomorrow you can do everything like usual.” She smiles.
“Great. I’ll go back to worrying about Enya and obsessing over Tarek without any issues,” I mutter.
“Excuse me?” She tilts her head.
“Great news. I’m so thrilled.” I glance at the door where the doctor exited, maybe trying to distract her from the fact that I talked about Tarek.
“I know the doctor is abrupt,” she apologizes. “But he’s the best on the planet, possibly in many galaxies. And as you know right now he’s focused on his mate, Bayla and her human child.”
“Oh, mother earth. His mate is Enya’s mother?” My heart pounds. “Why didn’t he say anything?” Tears well up in my eyes. “I’m her… caretaker. The one who helped her escape. Why wouldn’t he at least… thank me?”
She looks confused. “I don’t know. Maybe he doesn’t want to mix personal with professional. He’s not really the warm and fuzzy type. Right now, the important thing was to complete your surgery, not to upset you with discussion about it.”
I grab for my gown. “I want to go home.”
It’s just another example of how I’m not worthy enough to be treated like an equal. Great that I took care of Enya for solar cycles. Awesome that I helped her escape. Now that I’m here? Get away from her. Still second tier, even in this supposedly “free” environment. Great.
I pull on my sandals. “Thanks for your help.”
She hands me a satchel with some medications and salves. “We’ve updated your comm with instructions on how to care for your wound. Please inform your dorm mother, Mistress Kaal, at once if you have any pain…”
“Thanks. Bye.”
I leave as quickly as I can, not caring if I seem rude.
This is beyond frustrating. I need to see Enya.
Bayla
I don’t know what to say to my daughter.