Renewed

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 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 them …

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 the Rictorians … 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 signalled 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 stood and sat on the couch by the door. He stared at the examination bed, thinking of all the women and babies he’d been assessing 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 examination 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. ’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. ‘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. Around her right eye. Like the rays of the blazing sun. 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.’

Frizz stared, surprised at her anger. ‘We can speak of it later.’

’We can speak of it now.’

’Okay. Okay. I’ll consider it.’

’You will do it,’ Tor said. ‘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.’

‘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. ‘I want to see this contraception. Neeson said it was plastic.’

‘Rudimentary,’ Tor said. He grimaced. ‘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.’

Red glowed in her cheeks. ‘I think it … I think it has something to do with Zibon semen. It … it has to be in-inside me … the … the regular way.’ Her cheeks flamed further.

‘It keeps the bond happy.’ Tor agreed. ‘It was virtually unbearable using those damnable things.’

Frizz frowned. ‘That makes things … difficult.’

‘But you can do other things,’ Chloe said, a little 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. ‘You’re smart.’

‘I suppose … It will require a team effort.’

‘We have two medical doctors onboard, plus a science officer,’ Tor said. ‘And then all your team. I’m sure it can be done.’

The two Zibons’ eyes locked. Neither were hopeful.

‘We have time, at least,’ Frizz agreed. ‘Time to get this done.’ He looked the girl over. ‘How are you feeling with yours? It’s four weeks now.’

‘I don’t feel any different,’ she said. ‘Not yet.’ And she looked away.

‘Okay, thank you for coming.’ Slapping his knees, Frizz 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 left.

Frizz watched them go, then sat back down on his couch, thinking. After a few minutes, he got up and sat at his console. He would need to get his team together. Just like Tor had 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 a petition for the authorities. They could not refuse Frizz’s personal request at a year’s delay—surely.

As for the young Rictorian’s request …

… he would try.