Slave Race: 4/?
by Nan Smith and Linda Garrick
**********
"Not even in a case such as this?"
"No. No, it's not the child's fault."
"It's hardly a child yet, Miss Cornwall. After what you have been through in the past week, I shouldn't be at all surprised if you miscarry. It's rather surprising that you haven't, already, in fact. You had lost a good deal of blood when you were brought in, and were in shock. If you do carry the child to term, there's no way to be certain it will be normal."
Loreen swallowed. "I'll take that chance."
"And besides, you have no way of knowing what this baby may turn out like. The father was certainly a ruthless criminal. We know for certain that such tendencies are inherent."
"He's half me."
"And half his father. You haven't said much about the man who... who fathered this child."
Loreen looked away.
"Perhaps you don't know who the father is. I understand it was a gang."
Loreen closed her eyes. "I'd rather not talk about it, doctor."
"Miss Cornwall..."
"I won't terminate the pregnancy, doctor, and I don't want anyone to know about it."
"What? Not even your parents?"
"No."
"May I ask why? There's no blame on you, you know. You were taken by force."
"I know. I'd just rather no one knew. It might reflect on the child."
"Don't you think someone might guess? A pregnancy isn't something that can be hidden forever."
"I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. I won't terminate it."
"Very well, Miss Cornwall." The doctor sighed. "Since you are an unmarried woman, I must honor your wishes in this. But I think you are very foolish."
"Thank you, doctor."
"It's your decision, remember. I advise against it, and if the pregnancy does continue, I make no guarantee as to the final result."
"I understand."
"I must go." He stood up. "Are you all right now?"
"Yes. Doctor?"
"What?"
"How long do I need to stay here?"
"You can go home today if you agree to stay quiet and not try to get up. I'll send some pills home with you to help you relax."
"They won't hurt the baby."
He shook his head, frowning. "I must say, Miss, I have never seen such concern for an impending offspring in a case such as yours. One would think you had been in love with the man who assaulted you."
Loreen looked away. "That's crazy. It's just that it's not the baby's fault."
"I see." He lifted an eyebrow, gave her a noncommittal smile and departed. Loreen lay back and closed her eyes, thinking.
She was a widow at the age of seventeen. Edwin's child, conceived four days ago on the day of her wedding, would grow up with the stigma of a criminal father--unless she could somehow prevent it. Edwin's death was an aching loss within her. She knew it would be with her for a long time, but she mustn't show it. Edwin was dead, and nothing could bring him back; but inside Loreen a part of him survived in the person of his son or daughter. It was up to her to see that that son or daughter received a fair shake out of all this, and there was only one way she could see to accomplish that.
Very slowly she reached over and removed the engagement and wedding rings from her finger. She pressed them to her lips for a moment, tears stinging her eyes.
"Goodbye, Edwin," she whispered, and slid the articles beneath the bandage which swathed her shoulder.
**********
Chapter 4
Edwin White felt the knife pierce his chest, heard Loreen scream, and tried without avail to turn his head to catch one last glimpse of her.
He couldn't see her, but had the impression that she was fighting her way toward him. He could hear her screaming his name. There were other sounds, too--yells of anger and grunts of effort. He had a glimpse of Devin's face close by, struggling with another member of the gang, and beyond him, Cory, kicking frantically in the grip someone had on him.
Edwin could feel his life draining away, feel consciousness fading. The scene dimmed, the sounds of battle grew more and more distant and finally were gone.
**********
He struggled back to consciousness, trying to bring his hands up to protect himself, only to realize that his hands were now tied down. In sudden panic he fought the bonds, uselessly. They were like iron, pinning him down. Gang execution! No! He must escape!
A voice reached him through the mists of panic. "Ed! Take it easy! Calm down!"
He opened his eyes and stopped struggling.
He was lying on a large, ornate bed, covered with an intricately patterned quilt. His wrists were immobile because they were secured to the sides of the bed with what felt like strips of cloth. Cory stood beside him, his head bandaged. His shirt was gone, and a second bandage swathed his ribcage. He wore a pair of loosely fitting breeches, which dragged to the floor.
"Cory!"
"You okay now, Ed?" His friend's voice shook.
Edwin turned his head to look around. They were in what appeared to be a luxurious bedroom, soft carpeting of a deep golden hue, a large, expensive bureau, two beds, one in which he lay, carven decorations in the shapes of fantastic animals on the walls, two soft, overstuffed chairs. "Where are we? Cory! Let me go!"
"Okay." Cory bent down and released his hands. "Don't try to get up, though. The Doc said you were to keep quiet. Sorry about the restraints, but you kept pulling at the bandages."
"What doctor?" Ed tried to sit up and fell back at a stab of pain. His head swam.
Cory's hand was on his arm. "Easy, Ed. Please lie still. You were hurt awfully bad. I... I thought you were... going to die." His voice broke.
"So did I." Ed closed his eyes until the swimming in his head subsided. Memory was coming back--the surprise gang attack, the knife in his chest. "Cory, tell me what happened. Lori! What happened to her?"
"I don't know. I was fighting that Fernando guy--you know--the Skullrat's leader."
"Yeah."
"He'd gotten me a couple of times really good. I saw his first Lieutenant go after Lori with a knife. Jake was down, and Devin was still fighting one of the others. It looked bad for us. We were outnumbered at least three to one. Two more guys jumped me, and I figured I was finished. I was bleeding bad, and one of them managed to get my arms behind me--and then, out of the blue, reinforcements showed up."
"Reinforcements?"
"Yeah. I don't know who they were. They were in an aircar, and were armed with blasters. They shot the guys who were trying to kill me, shot the one who stabbed you, and got one or two others. The rest all ran--including Devin. I saw these big, weird characters coming toward me, then. I tried to get up, but I was too weak. I saw one of 'em pick you up, and another one picked me up. That's the last I remember until I woke up here about two hours ago. There was a man here--a Doctor Jocki, he called himself. I tried to question him, but he didn't talk much. He was working on you--said you were in bad shape, but with luck you might survive. He told me we both owed our lives to his boss. I guess your heart had stopped when they rescued us, and Jocki started you up again in the aircar, then did some emergency surgery on you. He said you'd be all right now, if you just stayed quiet."
Edwin stared at his friend. "But who are they? Didn't the doc tell you?"
"Not a word. I tried to read him, of course, but he was shielded! I swear it, Ed!"
"Shielded!"
"Maybe it was natural. I don't know. But I couldn't read him."
"That's incredible!"
"And you know, Ed, I got the weirdest feeling that he *knew* I was trying to read him. He kept grinning every time I'd try."
"Can natural shielders tell?"
"You got me. That damned Fernando never seemed to."
"Could this Jocki guy have been a psychic."
"Could be. How could I know?"
"And he didn't tell you anything?"
"Not a word." Cory sat down on the bed beside him. "How do you feel?"
"Awful sore, but otherwise not bad. How about you?"
"The same." Cory glanced uneasily toward the door and lowered his voice. "Ed, do you sense a Jil nearby?"
"A Jil?"
Cory nodded. "I keep getting traces."
Ed concentrated, and sensed it too--a trailing wisp of psychic energy. "You're right! That's a Jil! Halthzor's hangnails! Maybe we're prisoners of the Autonomy."
"But I haven't seen any Patrol! Dr. Jocki was wearing the craziest clothes you ever saw, Ed, and his fingernails were painted purple! Besides, if we were prisoners of the Patrol, wouldn't they have us guarded?"
"It seems like they would. Maybe they think we're hurt too bad to try to get away. Still, I can't see this Dr. Jocki as you describe him, in the Patrol. He just doesn't fit the picture of a 'trol."
"Well, maybe we..."
Cory didn't get to finish. The door swished open, and Edwin knew a moment of blank surprise for he'd sensed no one approaching. Two men entered--two fantastically dressed beings. One of them approached the bed and set a self standing tray beside Edwin. "Eat hearty, kid. Doc's orders."
Edwin tried to extend a psychic probe, and met with a solid barrier. Shielding. He couldn't get through.
The man grinned and ruffled his hair as though he were a child. "Don't waste your energy, kid."
Cory was on his feet, facing the other man--a tall, muscular individual wearing a deeply rushed pair of pantaloons and a satin shirt that sagged in deep folds about his chest and shoulders.
"Please, sir." Cory spoke very politely. "Where are we?"
The man grinned, placed another tray on the table and went to the door. Cory started to follow him. "Please, sir, tell me where we are."
The two men went out. The door closed behind them.
"Now what?" Cory turned around.
"I don't know."
Cory went over to the door and placed his hands on it, running them over the panel. He concentrated hard for a moment, then relaxed, turning back to Ed. "It's locked, but I can probably open it."
"There are probably guards. They know what we are."
"Yeah." Cory concentrated again. "I think there's two, but they're shielded. I don't sense their minds. I just see their forms behind the door."
"It figures." Edwin sighed and removed the cover from the dish, revealing a bowl of steaming soup. The smell was wonderful. He picked up the spoon. "Well, I guess they don't mean to starve us, anyway."
"I guess not." Cory seated himself and uncovered his own tray. "Steak!"
"How come you get steak and I get soup?"
"You're still convalescent, I guess. Don't complain. If they're feeding us, they must be planning to keep us alive--at least for awhile."
"I'm not complaining. I just wish I knew what happened to Lori."
"So do I. And I wish I knew where we are." Cory took a bite of steak and sipped from the glass on the tray. "Hey! I don't know what it is, but it's good stuff!"
"Let me try it."
Cory hesitated, then grinned and brought him the glass. Edwin pushed himself up a little higher to take it, stifling an exclamation as he did so. His ribs felt as though there was a knife sticking in them still.
Cory grimaced. "Take it easy, pal. You were hurt bad."
Ed tried to look nonchalant. "It's nothing." He took the glass and sipped from it. "Mm! You're right. I wonder what it is."
"Maybe they're giving us a last meal before our execution."
"If so, they put their hearts into it. This soup's not bad either--for soup. I just..." He stopped, feeling a nervous prickle run over his skin. Cory jumped to his feet.
"The Jil's coming!"
"What'll we do?"
"I don't know. What can we do? He must know we're here!" Cory went quickly to a door to one side of the room and looked in. "A bathroom. No place to hide."
"He'd find us anyway." Ed swallowed hard. "Cory, I think we've had it."
"Me, too." Cory came over to the bed again and yanked the lamp loose from it's magnetic grip on the table.
"What are you doing? Cory, put that down! If you try to fight him, he'll just kill you all the sooner."
"Better now than later in the execution chair."
Edwin started to protest, then fell silent. Cory was right. "Help me up!"
"You stay put. Let me handle it."
"You alone against a Jil and his flunkies? Don't be stupid. Help me up."
"Ed, stay there. You can't help me. You'll just be in the way. Lie down before you rip those stitches out!"
"As you say, better to go now than later!" Edwin made it to the edge of the bed and staggered to his feet, clutching the beautifully carved bedpost for support. Pain lanced through his ribs and he bit back a gasp. Cory grabbed him, clamping an arm around his shoulders.
"Stay back," he ordered. "Only interfere if I go down. He's probably armed, you know."
"In that case, it'll be quick."
"Unless he decides to stun us."
"Yeah. Oh God! Here he is!"
The Jilectan's presence was directly outside the door now. Cory's arm pushed Ed down. Too weak to struggle, Edwin folded to his knees beside the bed, clutching at the coverings.
*Put the lamp down, Cornelius.* The alien voice spoke in Ed's mind. He saw Cory jump and clutch his weapon more tightly.
*Put the lamp down, you little fool. I am coming in, and I do not wish to stun you.*
Cory's eyes flicked to Ed. "What'll I do?"
"I don't know. There's not much point in fighting. He's armed and we're not. But I don't want to end up in the execution chair."
"You won't, Ed. I swear it. I won't let him take either one of us alive."
The door slid open, revealing the forms of two burly Terrans, and behind them was the taller, slimmer shape of the alien. Ed saw blasters in the hands of all three beings. Cory's arm went back and he hurled the lamp straight at the newcomers.
The lead Terran tried to duck, but the lamp curved downward, impelled by Cory's telekinesis, and struck the man on the side of the head with a resounding thunk. He dropped like a stone. The other Terran leaped forward, pursuing Cory's scrambling form as the boy crossed the room, grabbed a chair and swung it with all his strength.
Edwin made it to his feet. He heard the Terran's blaster hum just before the chair landed, taking the man in the ribs. The fellow staggered back with a grunt, but Cory, brushed by the stunbeam, folded forward to elbows and knees on the carpet.
Edwin had already located his weapon--the desk chronometer, and had cocked his arm to throw it, ignoring the pain in his side, when he saw the Jilectan's blaster centered on him. He froze, fully aware that M'lord's reflexes were quicker than his own.
"Place it back on the table, Edwin," the alien commanded.
Edwin obeyed, suddenly aware again of the stabbing pain in his side, and of the fact that it was hard to breathe. Black spots whirled and danced before his eyes.
Arms encircled and lifted him. He felt the softness of the bed beneath him. Vision cleared and he saw the Terran that Cory had hit with the chair straightening up, rubbing his ribs with one hand, a rueful grin on his features. Behind him, the Jilectan was advancing.
In a kind of numb terror, Edwin took in the alien's appearance--tall, slim, but with well-muscled shoulders. His silvery blond hair hung in curls over those shoulders and his eyes were large, piercingly blue, and surrounded by thick, curling blond lashes. His skin was a flawless alabaster, set off to advantage by the tight black bodysuit he wore. Red flashed from his ears and throat, and every digit of his six fingered hands was adorned with sparkling gems.
A rustle of movement drew Ed's attention. He turned his head to see the Terran that Cory had disabled with the lamp getting to his feet. Blood smeared the man's face, caking his eyelids. Stumbling slightly, the fellow crossed the room to Cory, grasped him by the hair and jerked him to his knees.
"Gently, Ivan, gently." The Jilectan's tone held unconcealed amusement. Ivan released the boy's hair and caught him beneath the arms, lifting him to his feet. Instantly Cory began to writhe in his hold, kicking feebly at the man's legs. Cursing, the fellow yanked the boy's arms behind him, pinning them in a clever hold. Cory squirmed, then yipped and became still.
The Jilectan's lips twisted into a wry smile and he turned back to look down at Edwin. Fists on hips, he surveyed the Terran, and Edwin found himself unable to meet the alien's gaze. He shrank back, making himself as small as possible on the wide, luxurious bed.
The Jilectan spoke, tone still edged with amusement. "I fear that I underestimated you, Terran psychics. I did not realize how formidable you could be. This has been a most enlightening demonstration."
There was a scuffle of movement and a muted curse from the man who held Cory. Edwin spoke to his friend telepathically. *Stop fighting, Cor. It's no use.*
"Quite correct, Edwin." The Jilectan again smiled fractionally. "Still, I admire your friend's spirit, as well as your own. You will both fit in well."
Edwin had hardly been listening, but the alien's last words caught his attention. His eyes connected again with the alien's. He waited, not speaking.
The Jilectan lifted a carefully plucked eyebrow. "Oh come now, little Terran, you are not going to ask my meaning? I can see the fear in your mind. You expect death, and so you should, for death is dealt out to all of your kind by my species. However, I do not choose to kill you, unless you do something to merit death."
Edwin could hardly believe his ears. Was it possible the alien was speaking the truth? Why should he lie? He had the upper hand. Edwin and Cory had no hope of rescue.
Cory, breathless and angry, spoke from his captor's hold. "Why shouldn't you kill us, M'lord? It's obvious you know what we are. If you keep us alive, you'll be disobeying the laws of your people."
The man holding him laughed shortly, and the Jilectan's face broke into a wide grin, as though he found what Cory had just said very amusing. He took two long steps to stand before the boy, reached down and hooked a long, multijointed finger beneath Cory's chin. "Disobeying laws has never disturbed me unduly, Cornelius."
Edwin surveyed the Jilectan and the gaudily dressed Terrans, a sudden, incredible suspicion forming in his mind. He felt Cory's start of realization an instant before he voiced his thought.
"You're a pirate!"
M'lord's face turned back to him. He was still grinning broadly. "Quite correct, Edwin," he said.
Cory sagged abruptly in his captor's hold, staring up at the Jilectan with wide eyes. "I know you! You're Lord Comishvor!"
"And again correct! What intelligent, well-informed little Terrans you are! You recognized me from my wanted posters, I assume?"
"I... I... yes, M'lord."
"Excellent. I have never thought the posters did me credit, however. Do you?"
Cory gulped, clearly unsure of his ground. "Uh... no, M'lord, they don't."
The alien smiled. "A lie, but one must expect lies from a Terran in fear of his life." His expression hardened suddenly, and so did his tone. "Never lie to me again, Cornelius, even if you think I will not like the truth."
Cory gulped. "I'm sorry, M'lord."
The alien nodded to the man holding Cory. "Release him."
Cory straightened up as the man obeyed. Lord Comishvor reached out, caught the boy's arm, and propelled him over to stand beside the bed. Cory went, unresisting. The Jilectan stepped back, seating himself in one of the large easy chairs. He glanced at one of the Terrans. "Wine, Mort."
"Yes sir." The man went to a wall communicator Ed hadn't noticed, and spoke into it.
The Jilectan leaned back in the chair and regarded his two prisoners benignly. "I will now make your positions clear to you, Terran psychics." His voice still held that faintly amused undertone. "I rescued you both from death. You are condemned criminals according to every law in the Jilectan Autonomy. You live only by my sufferance. Is that understood?"
The boys exchanged a glance. Then Cory nodded. "We understand, Lord Comishvor."
"Therefore, you belong to me and will serve me in any way I command. As long as you continue to serve me well, you will live well, with plenty to eat, a good place to live, women if you desire them, and no want of anything. If your usefulness diminishes, however, for whatever reason, you will cease to live well. If your usefulness ceases, you will die. Do you understand?"
That was clear enough, Edwin thought. He nodded and cleared his throat. "We do, sir."
A Procyon entered, carrying a ruby hued bottle and a tray of goblets. Carefully he placed the items on the table beside Comishvor, removed the cork from the bottle, and poured.
Cory spoke quietly. "What sort of work will we be doing, sir?"
"As you so succinctly observed, I am a pirate. You will assist me with my raids." He lifted the glass to his lips and drank, savoring the taste of the liquor for a moment before swallowing. "Ah, excellent! Serve our new crewmembers, Du'Frat."
The Procyon poured two more glasses and presented them to the boys. Edwin took his, annoyed to see that his hands were still shaking.
"M'lord," said Cory.
"Yes, Cornelius?"
"Could I ask something a little off the subject?"
"Well?"
"When your men arrived and saved us from the West Side s there was a girl there--a non psychic named Loreen. Did you see what happened to her?"
The Jilectan glanced toward the two men who stood nearby. "You were both there. Did you see a Terran female?"
One of the men shrugged. "Yeah, there was a girl there, but I think she got killed."
"Yeah, I remember," chimed in the other man. "One o' those bastards got her good. She wasn't movin'. Damn shame, too. She was sorta cute."
Edwin was aware of Cory's hand tightening on his shoulder. His ears were ringing, and a grey mist whirled before his eyes. Lori--lovely, sweet little Lori, the only woman he had ever loved, was dead. They had been married less than 12 hours.
"Ed! Ed, are you okay?" It was Cory's voice, faint and far away. "Oh, mister, get the doctor, please! Ed... !"
There was a roaring in his ears, and the grey mist thickened. He was aware of big hands on his shoulders, and a needle pricking his arm. Then another voice, rough, yet gentle. "Easy now, kid. Back off. His wife, you say? Poor kid. I guess it was quite a shock t'hear it like that. Let him rest. He'll be okay..."
And blessed darkness engulfed him.
**********
Chapter 5
Cecil Warren and Loreen Cornwall were united in holy matrimony three weeks and two days after Loreen was released from the hospital.
Her father had opposed it. It was too soon, he said. Lori's emotional wounds were not yet healed. She hadn't been herself since the abduction.
But her mother didn't oppose it. Loreen, clad in her white satin wedding dress, saw her mother's image in the mirror, watching.
She turned. "How do I look, Mom?"
Mrs. Cornwall came toward her and took her hands. "You look beautiful, Lori."
"My hair... is it all right in the back?"
"It's perfect." Her mother stood back, her dark eyes meeting her daughter's solemnly. "Lori, are you sure you're doing the right thing?"
It had always been impossible to lie to her mother. She shrugged, quickly averting her gaze. "Oh, mom, who's ever a hundred percent sure?"
Mrs. Cornwall hesitated a long moment, fussing with Loreen's veil. "I was," she said, suddenly.
"You were very lucky, Mom. And quite unusual."
"You know, honey, if you change your mind, even now, we won't care."
"I can't change my mind, Mom." It was out before she realized it.
Her mother regarded her solemnly. "Is there anything you need to tell me, Lori?"
"No, Mom."
"You can trust me, you know. Whatever it is, I'll understand."
"There's nothing, Mom."
Another long hesitation. Her mother's eyes fixed hers with a strangely probing expression. Lori looked quickly away.
"Happy wedding day, honey," Alice Cornwall said, quietly.
"Thank you, Mom."
**********
Their honeymoon, a gift from Loreen's father, was to Luna City. Cecil gambled almost the entire time, and Loreen tagged him around like, she thought, a puppy. They returned after two weeks, and Loreen moved into Cecil's home--an apartment in town not far from her parent's. Cecil returned to work for Gregory Cornwall, in his accustomed job as assistant manager for his export company.
Two months later Loreen decided it was time to break the news of her pregnancy to him. Sufficient time had passed since the marriage for her to be legitimately pregnant, and if she managed it right, he shouldn't suspect. He arrived home from work, and she handed him his carefully prepared beer, ice cold the way he liked it. He gave her a swift kiss and settled on the couch, flicking on the video. Loreen went back into the kitchen to put the last touches on his favorite dinner, and to gather her nerve. She heard the thump as Cecil settled his feet on the coffee table. With a deep breath, she went back into the family room and stood behind the couch. Cecil was watching the null-grav polo game between the Terran Tigers and the Arcturian Trippers.
"Cecil?"
"Hmm?"
"I have something to tell you."
He didn't glance around. "Can it wait until the commercial, dear?"
"I suppose." Loreen came around the couch and sat down beside him, feeling her eyes sting with repressed tears. Oh, to have Edwin beside her now--to be able to break the joyful news to him!
For so far, none of the doctor's gloomy predictions had come to pass. The pregnancy was proceeding without problems, and she felt fine--none of the nausea, dizziness, or fatigue other women spoke of. So far she could see no change in her figure, but her mother had told her that, with first babies often the pregnancy didn't become noticeable until the sixth month or so.
No matter what, she wouldn't let the circumstances of fate effect the child. Firmly she willed back the tears. There must be nothing--nothing that might lead Cecil to suspect. He must believe the baby to be his.
The play ended and the commercial came on. Cecil leaned back and took a swallow of beer. "Well? What is it?"
"I'm pregnant, Cecil. Isn't it wonderful?"
He stared at her, aghast. "What do you mean?"
"Just what I said. I'm going to have a baby."
He scowled and a dark red flush began to creep up his neck. "Don't tell me you haven't been doing anything to prevent it!"
"You didn't tell me you wanted it prevented."
"Well, you should have known. It's much too soon to have a baby! We've only been married a few months!"
"I can't help it now. It's happened. Cecil, think! We're going to have a baby--*our* baby! A blond little boy like you, maybe, or maybe a little brown haired girl with your blue eyes..."
He cut her off. "No!"
"What do you mean?" She tried to quell a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. In this Jilectan dominated society, the wishes of the male preceded those of the female. If Cecil chose to dispose of the child, he would be within his legal rights.
"No babies--not yet."
"Why not?"
"After--well, after your kidnapping and all, people might suspect..."
"Suspect what?"
"That... well, that it might not be mine."
"Cecil, I told you, they didn't touch me. Don't you believe me?"
"I believe you, but other people might not."
"That's their problem."
"It's my problem, too--and yours. I won't have this type of stigma on my family. The pregnancy will be terminated."
"No!" Loreen was on her feet, both hands pressed to her abdomen. "I won't kill my child!"
"It's not a child--not yet."
"It is! I'm two months along--the doctor... the doctor told me. I must have conceived on our honeymoon!"
"It doesn't matter. What matters is that people will talk-- especially if you go into labor a few weeks early."
"I won't terminate it!"
"You have no choice, my dear. This is the Jilectan Autonomy. What I say goes."
Loreen backed away from him. "Cecil, before I kill this child, I'll leave you."
He stared at her, then laughed. "Don't be stupid. You won't leave me."
"You don't think so?"
"I know you won't. Who else would have you?"
Loreen didn't reply. She turned and went into the bedroom. Trembling with anger, she snatched her suitcase from the closet and threw it on the bed.
Cecil appeared in the doorway. "What the hell are you doing?"
"I'm leaving you!'
"Loreen!" He came toward her. "You're only seventeen. Why is this one pregnancy so important to you? Are you afraid it'll be painful to end it? Labor's a lot worse."
"I won't kill my child. Get away from me. I don't know you anymore."
"You can have another baby. It's just that this one's... inconvenient."
"Inconvenient or not, I'm having this baby. You can go to hell."
He flushed dark red. "You will honor my wishes. I'm your husband."
"You're a man willing to kill your own child because it's inconvenient. Let me alone. Don't worry. I'll never ask you to support it."
"Loreen..." He hesitated, watching her hurl the clothes into the case. "Stop that at once!"
She ignored him. Her parents would take her in, she decided. She would tell her mother the truth.
Cecil might try to force her to come back, but her father would prevent him. Cecil was afraid of her father.
"You're not going!" Cecil seized her arm, yanking her back from the bed. She tried uselessly to wrench her arm free. He shook her hard, rattling her teeth. "You're not going anywhere!"
**********
tbc
