Summary: By Ari Goelman Read by Veronica Giguere Discuss on our forums. Originally appeared in Strange Horizons All stories by Ari Goelman All stories read by Veronica Giguere Rated 13 and up for language Origin By Ari Goelman This is how I find out that I’m pregnant: I wake up to find Carter standing next to my bed. The fire escape door is open behind him, so the rising sun silhouettes his body. A human silhouette, albeit a little crisper than it should be, as his body bends the light towards him, powering up. Always powering up. “You’re pregnant,” he says. No particular emphasis on the words, which is as per usual, his voice being run through vocal cords that are not human, formed by lips that have blown hurricanes off course. It’s not that he doesn’t feel emotion, he tells me and anyone else who’ll listen. It’s just that he doesn’t have the same biologically hardwired ways of showing it. Usually I believe him. “What?” I rub my eyes, push up on one elbow. “That’s not possible.” He leans over me, and touches my stomach. “I was flying by your apartment, thinking about you. I heard the heartbeat.” “You told me that was impossible,” I say. He frowns and asks, “I told you it was impossible for me to hear the . . .” “Conceiving, Carter,” I say. “You told me it was impossible for us to conceive.” “I thought it was. I was wrong.” His frown deepens. “I could take care of it for you right now if you want.” I push Carter away from me and sit up. “For me, Carter?! You mean for us, right?” “Right. That’s what I meant.” A pause, then. “You’re freezing the bed, Margaret.” I glance down. Damn it. I’ve covered myself and the bed with a thin layer of ice. I take a deep breath and try to calm down before I do any permanent damage to my bed. It strikes me that this whole thing smells of Dr. U. “Any idea where Dr. U is these days?” I say. Carter shakes his head. “Ambrosius is reformed. This isn’t one of his plots, Margaret. You—we—have to decide what we’re going to do.” He winces. “Shoot. Bank robbery in Chicago. I have to go.” He’s gone before I can respond. “I should never date other supers,” I say, not for the first time. I put my hand on my stomach. Crap. I can barely keep a spider plant alive. There’s no way I’m ready to be a mother. I look back at the bed and wave my hand at it, heating the molecules surrounding it until the sheets are dry and warm. Then I call in sick to my norm-identity job at the advertising firm, and get back into bed. Of course I can’t sleep. After an hour of lying in bed, I get up and spend what’s left of the morning surfing the Internet for information on pregnancy. My Battalion cell phone rings a few times, but I don’t pick up. A few minutes before noon, I hear a tap on the window behind me and find Carter is hovering outside. “Come on in,” I say. A blur as he detours through the fire escape door in my bedroom and into my apartment. I know. It’s weird—he lets himself in while I’m asleep, but if I’m awake, he’ll always wait until I invite him in. He runs his hands through his hair. “Why weren’t you answering the phone?” I roll my eyes. If he wants, Carter can fly faster than the signal on a phone. “What, did the bank robbery in Chicago hold you up?” “It’s a tough conversation. I thought it might be easier for you to have it from a distance.” “Easier for me?” I briefly consider incinerating Carter’s costume. I’m pretty sure I could keep the heat contained, but if I’m wrong I’ll end up having to evacuate the building and pay the fire damages. Again. Still, I’m thinking it might be wor[...]
