"Oh God! Shoot it down!"
"Engaging hyperdrive...with the X14 in tow...."
" . ..we are the proud parents of our two young children, our son, Zyler and our daughter, Kathryn. My wife, Corene, is giving birth to our third child and neither of us are in the room.
Each of the other women in this delivery room are cleaning and treating their patients. Midwives, nurses and a doctor with a baby in her arms walk about, filling in where they are needed, since this is a birth center, with a midwife in attendance.
I am sitting and watching, probably out of boredom, cause I have been asked to leave the room twice in the past half hour.
Laughter and playful jesting erupts from the surgical table and into my ears as the midwife, Dr. Donelly, pushes her hands forward on her abdomen, forcing the baby out gently and slowly.
Soon, Dr. Donelly was up and walking away from the table, striding in my direction. I walked towards her at the same pace and she walked beside me for a short distance before I asked, "Shall I fetch the father and daughter?"
She gave a soft laugh, her eyes sparkling, "I think they are in the cafeteria. He may be the happiest father on the planet; he almost cried when he saw the baby."
From the corner of my eye I saw the baby move. She had two hands that she cotinuously pushed into her forehead, and she looked just like every other baby that had a similar type of birth. She seemed to be in pain.
"I'll get you some ice cubes," I told her, "or a cloth dipped in cool water. Maybe that will help. Can some of the other midwives help you as you help her?"
I found myself alone in the hallway with the beautiful little girl as the other women ran toward the medical room. I heard a shriek. I stopped and glanced to the right as the door to the medical room opened. Dr. Donelly was standing on the very edge of the door, staring at the ceiling, and holding her chest. I wondered if perhaps she had a heart attack. Her eyes looked glazed and she gasped for breath. A midwife hurried to her, "Dr. Donelly, you are having a heart attack! Call an ambulance!"
A few minutes later, the ambulance appeared. I instinctively stood where I was just as the paramedics entered the hallway. An Emergency Room nurse recognition scan was carried out.
"That's her!" the paramedic exclaimed.
"I know," I replied, "and this little girl is her daughter." The little girl, Zoyler, was now appearing to be an odd, curious mix in regards to her features.
"She must have alien genes!" the EMT exclaimed.
"Tallahassee. My husband is flying in from there in an hour. Can you send them along?"
"Sure! What happens now?"
"I'll take this baby to the nursery and get her cleaned up and put to bed. Donelly opens her eyes to stare at the nurse's standing above her. Then she glances around the room before she closes her eyes again.
"Doctor?" they asked.
"I'm going to be fine," she replied and then they left the hospital. I lifted my daughter, Zoyler, and followed the other staff members to the nursery.
"Close your eyes, baby girl," I told her. She was on my shoulder and I began kissing her tiny head as I cradled her in my arm.
"Ow!" my daughter, Kathryn, exclaimed. I looked down to see that my baby girl had poked me in the eye with the corner of her "cute little nose."
Kathryn closed her eyes, expecting me to kiss her just like I did Zoyler. I did kiss her cheeks then and I said, "My name is Shalandra Swenson and in a few minutes you will be breathing on your own for the first time. I know it might seem scary and you might cry during those first few minutes. But, I want you to know that I am still here for you and Kathryn, you will never be alone."
She did cry for a very short period of time and she was later running to examine her surroundings. I was never allowed to know what Kathryn had seen the day before. They always told me that I and her mother, Zoyler, were just fine.
I took my daughters home to our new home in the District of Columbia. My husband, Robert, had moved there in order to work for the Federal Government, the same day that I got my employment notification from the center.
It took us a little longer to realize that Kathryn was just like every other baby. She learned to walk and talk at about the same pace as any other child. She was able to catch a ball, she would use sharp knives. She has always had a fear of falling out of high places.
It was Zoyler that told us that her sister was different. She said, "I already know what you are about to say to me. Yes, she looks different, but she thinks and feels differently. I think she is part alien and I know she has a very short attention span. She is very sensitive to her environment and she cries easily."
"Kathryn," I began.
"Yes, mother?" she replied.
Zoyler interrupted, "She is not sensitive. She is a little psychic. If someone cuts you, she will know before you do."
That unpleasantry was resolutely nipped in the bud. I told them both, "Kathryn is my precious girl and she will be loved and nurtured as if she were just like everyone else. Sleep now. Tomorrow is going to be an exciting day."
It was a long week. My husband, Robert, came home from work a few hours late. He told me that he had been asked to help with some "top secret" scientific projects that would require him to be gone for the next few days. They will only ask me to watch after Kathryn.
I received a phone call from the Center that afternoon to confirm an appointment for Kathryn. I was very uneasy. We had just picked up a new puppy that afternoon and she was being trained to be a lap dog. I may have to take the elevator in order to visit Kathryn; I do not want to reveal to the doctors that I am afraid of heights.
My husband, Robert, was told that he would receive a phone call around midnight the night before. During that phone call, the Director of the Center called and told my husband to head straight home. That is what was said at that time.
Robert left work a little after eight in the evening. We had already planned a romantic dinner for our anniversary. We liked to use the Tchefuncte River as our background music. Our daughter, Kathryn, came running into the room and closed the door, making the dog, Tasty, bark.
"I don't like her Daddy," she proclaimed. She was age 6 and she is as happy as a big girl can be.
"She is my Isla," our petite 7 year-old daughter said. "She came with me from The Center. She is my best friend. Do you have her?" We both looked at each other. We picked up Isla and walked towards the kitchen. My husband had served us our dinner and he sat down to eat. Then he looked up at us. We were standing in the kitchen, holding Isla together like children with a new toy.
"I think she is a robot," my husband declared, "and I think that one of you is an alien robot. The techs from the corporate headquarters that came to see us today want you to be good girls and have no secrets from them. If you do, you go away for a lot of time and I stay behind."
"Daddy, I do know quite a lot of secrets," Kathryn stated. She was an enigma. She could not only read the minds of others, but she said that she can listen to what was being said. She could hide in plain sight. She could also pick up a little alien language, and mingle in their society. I asked her, "Do you think that you are a robot?"
"Yes, I think that I am," she responded. "What are you doing with my dog? You don't look at all alike!"
Thus began many revelations, discoveries and assumptions.
