Zygote

 

By

 

Gary Winstone

 

*

 

She couldn’t remember how she got here, those memories were no longer hers to peruse. There was only heat, and pain. She lay broken, surrounded by flame, shuddering through an adrenaline hangover. Her body certainly remembered something.

 

Her swollen abdomen clenched again, twisted tighter and tighter - she howled.

 

She rolled onto her side, the pain receded slightly. GET IT OUT, her mind shouted - it's all she can think, all she knows. A minute later, panting, eyes wide, her stomach started knotting up again as she rolled onto her back, trying to sit up. The voice of her final instinctual duty screamed in her mind - PUSH! She howled again, her throat shredding.

 

She felt her groin release the pressure and the pain flowed away with it. She felt a mass squirming between her legs and reached down, pulled it up onto her stomach. It slipped off to one side so she grabbed it again, pulled it back up and wrapped her arms tight around it. Her final strength was fading. The slimy mass screamed, her breasts reacted, and she felt its hunger. She guided it to a teet where it latched on hard. Bright blue eyes opened and stared into her matching own, let go.

 

She sighed as she wrapped herself around the baby girl, nestled her in close, and let the final decantation take the rest of her.

 

*

 

She was warm, cushioned and feeding. Great draughts gushed down her throat until her pulls drew no more. She still hungered and felt for the other nub close by. She clamped onto this one even harder, small teeth drawing a little blood, but the warm and soft other showed no reaction. Just held onto her, swaddling her. She sensed the other finally go still (mother? Part of her was amused at this), the chest stopped its heaving. She empathised, felt the relief, and drew down more thick fluid.

 

This one was soon empty too, but her tiny stomach was now full. The tough cord connecting her to the other began a rapid pulsating rhythm - another round of her screaming synced to its tempo.

 

She writhed there in a rough trench encased in a fleshy crib, the other's body gurgling below her, wrapping her even tighter as she sank deeper into it. Stretching, burning, grinding pain - everywhere.

 

The sound was awful - popping, crunching and more screaming. The cord twitched madly.

 

*

 

She slept in a soft sticky blanket, the outer skin of her progenitor. The loose flappy robe around her was all that now remained - still connected to her midsection by the long tough cord, threaded with metal filaments. She breathed deeply, eyes moving rapidly beneath their lids. Now ready, her mind finally finished slotting the rest of its pieces back into their proper places.

 

Time to move - her eyes snapped open. She rose on new legs, joints cracking, and just stood there for a moment - allowing her equilibrium to settle, surveying her surroundings. It was mostly smouldering debris and blackened vegetation. She was now too hot so shrugged off her gross covering (trying not to look too closely at it), and pulled the cord loose from her navel with a quiet pop. A naked, athletically built, dark-haired young woman stood there a little unsteadily then straightened up.

 

She started poking around the wreckage with a stick and found what she was looking for. A large oblong container half buried under earth and warped material. She knew better than to touch it as is and did the only thing she could think of. (With a slight tinge of regret) She bunched her old blanket around her hands and pulled the box free.

 

She cast aside her sizzling wraps and waved a finger over a protrusion on the top - the whole surface disconnected and fell to the floor beside it. She pulled out a small piece of material and stretched it around her frame - the edges flowed themselves around her body and sealed her up neck to toes. She reached in again and pulled out a simple harness dotted with small attached containers. She checked if their contents were secure and pulled it on. She retrieved an obvious hand weapon from the box and inspected it. Satisfied, it was attached to her side. She reached in a final time and removed a smaller box. Inside it revealed a crystal sphere - worth it. She closed it and hid it away.

 

She took a small item from a pouch and slipped it into her ear - tapped it three times.

 

A voice immediately snapped, “you had me worried”.

 

She started to croak a reply but her throat gurgled. She cleared it harshly and spat out something nasty, then pulled a small canteen from her harness. Finished, she finally replied

 

“Came in a lot harder than hoped, processed an emergency gestation. Fastest decantation yet, must be a record”.

“Again”?

“I know. There wasn’t a choice”.

“You’re getting reckless, how many do you have left”?

“We can swap places if you like,” she replied coldly.

“Funny - you know I can’t. How many”?

“That was my last zygote”.

 

There was no reply for a short time, she knew that wasn’t a good sign. She may have finally worn out her worth.

 

“The archive”? The voice asked.

“Secure”.

 

More silence - now she was getting anxious.

 

“The mission was a success, so we’re bringing you back. Don’t say I never do anything for you”.

“Thank you”.

She hadn't noticed she was holding her breath and finally released it.

“Stop by medical and replace your backups. These are your last soldier, no more recklessness”.

“Understood sir”, she replied, fully aware this was no empty threat. She sat thoughtfully on a nearby rock to wait.

 

A short time later she saw the retrieval falling towards her in a trail of plasma. She watched it slam into the ground 10 metres away and ran over. She palmed the side, the front swung open and she threw herself in. It leapt up from the ground after sealing, without any hesitation. She was pressed deep into her couch, the warm reaction gel squeezed around her frame. A creepy case of deja vu tickled her and she shuddered. You never get used to some things.