Busted Flush

“You poor darling, let me get you a sweater. It’ll swim on you, my mother is . . . large.” She is smiling up at me. There’s nothing conscious or planned about it. I bend down and kiss her. Her lips are dry, and a little chapped. For an instant they part. She tastes like vanilla and honey. Then she draws back. I, too, rear back. “Sorry, sorry. I don’t usually behave like an ass.”

At the same time I’m sputtering the apology she is saying, “Wha . . . what are you doing? What do you want my kids for? Why do you want me to have a clutch? You’re up to something!”

I’m completely at sea here. I wave my hands in front of her face. “Stop, stop, stop. It was just a kiss. If I wanted to seduce you I’d bloody well do it better than this.”

She clambers awkwardly to her feet. “Bullshit! This whole thing has been a seduction. The punting, the tea and crumpets, everything!” Her voice is spiraling into a tight, high soprano, and the words come like the chattering of gulls. “Well, I’ve got news for you, I can’t just whip up a clutch with the powers you want!”

“I say, hold on there! I’m sterile, remember.”

“Not with me you wouldn’t be. Not for my ace kids.” Her face is a bright red. “Just the act of sex starts it.”

Well, that stops me. “I could sire children?” My mind juxtaposes images of fathers at playgrounds with youngsters and the dying homunculus in the alley, but I can’t quell the buzz of excitement. “I wouldn’t be sterile with you.” I thrust my hands deep into my pockets and feel the pressure of a half-formed erection.

“You really wanted to kiss me?” She sounds very young and very insecure.

I turn back to her. “Yes.”

“But I’m ugly.”

“And I’m grotesque.” I force a smile. “I might get the kiss, but once my pants come off I get the kiss-off.”

“It can’t be more horrible than this.” She gathers the fat, bristly tail into her arms and stares down at it. “I’m sorry I got so weird. I just haven’t been kissed in a long, long time. He never kissed me at BICC. He just fucked me.” I can barely hear her now. “He never stayed to see the kids. He never came to say good-bye to them when they . . . when they . . .” Her voice is thick with unshed tears.

I take her in my arms and this time she doesn’t pull back.

They’re absolutely delightful. Four. Three girls and a cocky imp of a boy. It amazed me how quickly it happened after we made love, and alarmed me how much pain Niobe endured. I held her as the eggs were deposited and we watched together as they hatched.

The black-haired, blue-eyed boy clambers up onto the bed and gives Niobe a hug. “Hi, Mom.” She hugs him back fiercely.

Two of the girls join us on the bed. The joker is tiny and having trouble with the big four-poster. I pick her up and set her on the bed. She’s charming. She’s like those pewter and enameled figurines of fairies with shimmering translucent wings that flash in the sun like an opal, feathery antenna over her eyes, and pointed little ears that poke up through a profusion of lavender-colored hair.

Niobe is looking distressed. “I can’t remember. I think I was up to ‘D.’ ”

I remembered something from the reports from BICC, how they worked their way through the alphabet so they could keep the test subjects straight. My spine stiffens.

“No, these are our kids. We get to name them.” She looks frightened, then delight brightens her face and shines in her eyes. She looks up at me shyly, her arms are full of children. “You should name your son.”

I feel taller and broader and I realize I’m preening like a bantam cock. “Gabriel.”

Niobe nods in agreement, but Gabriel pipes up. “You better not call me Gabe.”

I give a bark of laughter. Niobe kisses the dark hair of two of the girls. “Delia and Bethany.”

I pick up my delicate princess. “And Iolante.” Her arms go around my neck. “Let’s go show your grandfather,” I say.

Woulda

Caroline Spector

I REALLY NEED TO get a new job.

Oh, I could handle the crazy hours and never having a moment to myself. But zombies? Christ, no one ever said anything about zombies.

I looked up from where we were working on the levees and saw a row of the ugly buggers watching us.

Earth Witch, Gardener, and Cameo (channeling Simoon today) were working with a Corps of Engineers guy to shore up the levees. I was too far away to hear what he was saying, but Earth Witch nodded after a while, then knelt down and put her hands on the ground.

A trench opened up a few feet away from her. But it wasn’t a deep one. It was low and wide and looked more like what you’d get from a bulldozer. Dirt flew from the edges as it sped toward the levee. A mass of earth was forming at the front of the trench. Enough dirt and they could do a decent patch on the weakened portion.

Cameo began to whirl. Even though the ground was still pretty wet, she managed a decent—if kinda slow and muddy—dirt devil. She spun toward the front of the trench and dropped a load of dirt on top.