Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 48929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 245(@200wpm)___ 196(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 245(@200wpm)___ 196(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
The mortling is adorable as he tries to lug my pack that’s twice as heavy as him. His face turns red and he makes exaggerated expressions as he drags it my way.
“Thank you, little one,” I say as I reach for the pack, dragging it closer to me.
He squawks, landing on his rump, and points at my hand. “Scary.”
It’s a natural response for me to let my claws come out when grabbing for something. I retract them and give him a gentle smile.
“Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you,” I assure him.
He maintains his distance but watches me with unguarded interest as I root around in my pack. I find a microbot injector and depress it into my shoulder of my good arm. As the microbots begin their work, I fish out some electrolyte tablets and manage a few sips from my water. The mortling inches closer and closer, his brown eyes wide with awe. He scratches at his arm and then his neck.
“Boo-boo all better?” He cocks his nog at me, as if trying to understand.
“They’re pretty nasty wounds, so it might take a couple of solars to fully heal, but I’ll get there.”
His small hand reaches forward and touches my chest, where the microbots are already healing the flesh. I frown at the temperature of his hand on me. Too warm.
“Do you feel all right, little one?”
“My tummy hurts. I don’t want to frow up again.”
I skim my eyes over to Stella. She’s still asleep. It makes me wonder if she’s ill too. If they have The Rades, they’ll certainly perish without proper treatment. I’ll need to keep watch to see if they worsen.
Unless I get it too…
Rather than worrying about what I can’t control, I focus on the mortling. I dig around in my pack until I find him a pouch of goldenroot candies. They’re sweet, so the humans usually enjoy them, but they’re also good for nausea, hence another reason why the pregnant females favor them.
“Want to try a goldenroot candy?” I offer him the pouch.
He takes it from me and plucks one out. His brown eyes squint as he inspects it. Then he sniffs it before licking it. When he deems it safe, he puts the whole thing in his mouth.
“Mmm,” he says, grinning, scratching his stomach. “Mama can have one too?”
“Of course.”
I close my eyes for a moment, overcome from fatigue that my battle with the sabrevipes caused. I’m not out very long when the mortling pokes my arm.
“Gawen?”
“Hmm?” I crack my eyes open.
“I scared.”
My spine straightens and I turn my nog to the battered door, listening for sounds. In the distance, I can hear booms from the Kevin attack. With each one, the earth rumbles.
“Come sit by me,” I tell him since his mother clearly crashed from exhaustion. “I won’t hurt you.”
With the goldenroot candies in hand, he scoots until he’s close. The little one wriggles a lot, searching for a comfortable position against me. My still healing chest smarts in pain, making me grimace. I bite back a sound and wrap an arm around him to pull him close.
“If you get sleepy, you have to spit out the goldenroot candy, okay?”
He nods. “I not sleepy like Mama.”
Each time a boom hits, he trembles and I pat him gently, trying to soothe him. He crunches on the candy happily and scratches his stomach over his shirt. Of all my creations, I’m most thankful for the goldenroot candy. I never imagined it’d comfort a little one. One solar, I’ll give my own little ones candies I create. The thought warms me.
“I itchy, Gawen.”
I’d noticed him scratching. Though sores are common with The Rades, it’s more of a mindless clawing when those pop up, not general itchiness. Regardless, I’m worried about the little one. Even if it isn’t The Rades, it’s something.
Breccan would have already locked himself in a decontamination chamber. Always so worried about the world beyond the Facility’s doors.
I’m not Breccan, though.
If I’m exposed, so be it. It doesn’t change the fact Henry is ill in some way and it’s my duty as the male here to care for him.
“Let’s see, little one,” I urge. “Let me take a look.”
He lifts his shirt to reveal red circles all over his stomach. It reminds me of a time when Hadrian was small and got bit by a tiny flying creature. He was feverish and had a rash and nausea. I try to think about what else happened.
After a few solars, he grew worse and worse and began having trouble breathing. The microbots weren’t programmed to treat what was wrong with him since it was a new creature we’d never seen before. I wasn’t quite as old as Breccan and Avrell at the time, but I remember Avrell treating him with a paste.
What was the paste made of?