Chapter 5: The Volunteers Arrive
The communal lounge smelled of fresh coffee and something floral from the potted plants that lined the windows. Becca had claimed the corner sofa, her back pressed into the cushions, her rounded belly a warm weight against her lap. Chloe sat beside her, close enough that their shoulders touched, one hand resting on her own swollen middle.
They had arrived twenty minutes early. Neither of them had said much on the walk over.
"You think they'll show?" Chloe asked, her voice low.
Becca shrugged. "Amber seemed pretty gung ho. Jasmine too. Lydia, I could go either way on."
"She'll show."
Becca glanced at her. "How do you know?"
Chloe's lips curved into a small smile. "She's got that look. Like she's been waiting for something to matter for a long time." She paused, then added, "I know the look."
The creatures stirred in both their bellies, a soft pulse that Becca felt against her ribs. Or maybe it was just her heart. Hard to tell anymore.
Amber came through the door first, a paper cup of coffee in each hand. She wore sweatpants and a faded band t-shirt, her messy bun slightly lopsided. She surveyed the lounge with the practiced eye of someone who'd been in government buildings before.
"Gotta be honest," she said, crossing to them and handing Chloe one of the cups. "I didn't sleep worth a damn."
Becca raised an eyebrow. "You brought coffee for us?"
"You two look like you need it more than me." Amber dropped into an armchair that creaked beneath her, then leaned forward, elbows on knees. "So. The big day. You feel different now that it's real?"
Chloe wrapped her hands around the cup. "Different how?"
"I don't know." Amber gestured vaguely at Chloe's belly. "Reading the briefing docs is one thing. Seeing you two waddle around like you're smuggling beach balls under your shirts is another."
"Waddle," Becca repeated flatly.
"Gently. I said gently." Amber grinned, and for a moment the tension in her shoulders eased. "Your girl's got the whole Mother Mary thing going. It's weirdly calming."
Chloe laughed, a soft sound. "I don't know about calming. I woke up yesterday morning and thought I'd swallowed a medicine ball."
Jasmine arrived through a side door, her dark hair swept into an elaborate braid that fell down her back. She wore tailored trousers and a silk blouse, immaculate even at nine in the morning. She took a seat on the bench opposite them, folding her hands in her lap.
"You're all smiling," she observed. "That's good. I expected more weeping."
"We're saving it for later," Amber said. "Gotta pace ourselves."
Jasmine's mouth twitched. "Smart."
Becca watched Jasmine's careful composure, the way she kept her spine straight and her hands still. There was history there, the kind of history that made a person practice stillness so no one saw them shake. She wondered what Jasmine's scars looked like. She'd probably know soon enough.
The lounge door swung open and Lydia slipped in, smaller than Becca remembered, her sharp features framed by a dark cap pulled low. She hesitated at the threshold, scanning the room with quick, darting eyes. Then she walked over and perched on the edge of the armchair nearest the windows, keeping the garden at her back.
"Sorry I'm late," she said. Her voice was quiet, almost flat.
"You're not late," Chloe said. "We're early."
"Still."
Silence settled over them, five women scattered across a sunlit room, each lost in her own thoughts. The creatures pulsed in Becca's belly, a slow rhythm like a heartbeat heard through water. She felt the hum travel through her, down her spine, threading into the air between them.
Amber shifted. "Okay, someone say something. The quiet's making my teeth itch."
"Where'd you hear about it?" Becca asked. "The program."
Amber's grin faded. She studied her coffee for a moment. "Sister was in the armed forces. Knew some people who knew some people. After I got out, I wasn't doing much with myself. Seemed like something worth doing."
"Got out of what?"
"The army." Amber's jaw tightened. "Medical discharge. Knees went bad." She shrugged. "So here I am. Can't run anymore, but I guess I can carry."
Jasmine cleared her throat. "I was contacted through my work at the university. A colleague vouched for me. I study evolutionary biology." She paused. "When they explained what the Xanthari were facing, I couldn't say no. It's one thing to spend your life studying extinction in the abstract. Another to stand in front of the last of a species and turn away."
Lydia hadn't spoken. Becca looked at her, at the way she hugged her arms to her chest, the way her gaze kept drifting to the floor.
"Lydia?" Chloe said gently.
Lydia's shoulders rose and fell. "I don't have a story like that." Her voice was barely audible. "I just wanted something to do. Something that mattered." She looked up, and her eyes were older than the rest of her face. "I've been drifting for a long time. Nobody notices the quiet ones. Nobody cares." She rubbed her arm. "But this, someone sees me. Even if it's just a bunch of aliens with tentacles."
The creatures in Becca's belly hummed, a low vibration that seemed to resonate through the floor. She saw Chloe's face shift, felt the same thrum in her own body. The air thickened, charged with something unspoken. The creatures were reaching. Testing. Greeting.
Amber let out a low whistle. "Okay. That's a weird sensation."
"You feel it too?" Jasmine asked, her eyes wide.
"I think that's them," Chloe said. "Tasting the water."
Lydia's hands had fallen still in her lap. She was staring at her own belly, frowning. "It's warm," she said. "In here. Like someone put a hand on my stomach."
Becca felt her creature pulse again, stronger this time, and she placed a palm over her belly. It swelled beneath her touch, the eggs shifting inside her. She looked at the three women seated around the room, at their hesitant smiles and guarded eyes, and thought about the words Chloe had spoken the night before. We're not alone.
"I know this is scary," Becca said. "I was strapped to a table six days ago, thinking I'd made the worst decision of my life." She paused. "And then I felt it. This thing inside me, wanting to live so badly it was almost painful. And I realized I wanted it to live too."
"Same," Chloe murmured.
Amber leaned back, blowing out a breath. "So what happens now?"
Becca looked toward the door, where Dr. Vance would come to fetch them. "Now we find out if they choose you." She extended a hand to Chloe, who took it, and together they rose. Their bellies pressed together briefly, warm and solid, and for a moment the five of them stood in the sunlight, something fragile and fierce passing between them.
No one spoke. No one needed to.
The quiet held them for a long moment, the five of them suspended in the golden light like figures in a painting. Then the door at the far end of the lounge opened, and Dr. Vance stood in the frame, his white coat crisp, his glasses catching the sunlight.
"Ladies," he said, his voice carrying a note of careful neutrality. "If you're ready."
Becca felt Chloe's hand tighten around hers. She squeezed back, once, then let go.
The walk to Lab Zero was short. The corridor smelled of antiseptic and recycled air, and Becca's creature stirred restlessly, as if it could sense the weight of what was coming. The three women followed in silence, Amber's boots scuffing against the tile, Jasmine's heels clicking a sharp rhythm, Lydia nearly silent at the rear.
The lab was exactly as Becca remembered it. Cold white light, gleaming instruments, the antiseptic sting that made her nostrils prickle. But the single examination table she'd been strapped to six days ago was gone. In its place stood three, side by side, their restraints already unfastened and hanging loose.
Vance moved to a console along the wall, tapping at a screen. "Given the nature of this trial, we've streamlined the setup. No technicians available this morning, I'm afraid. Staffing is thin across the complex." He turned to look at Becca and Chloe. "Which means you two will be assisting me."
Becca blinked. "Us?"
"You know the procedure from the patient side," Vance said. "And you're the only ones who've successfully bonded. I need hands that are calm, steady, and familiar with what's about to happen." He gestured to the three tables. "It's simple. They undress, they lie down, we secure the restraints. The creatures will do the rest."
Chloe's jaw worked. "You want us to strap them in."
"I want you to help them," Vance said, and there was something softer in his voice. "I know what you went through. So do they. You're here to make it easier, not harder."
Amber stepped forward, stripping off her band t-shirt before anyone could argue. "Fine by me. I've been poked and prodded enough to know the drill." She kicked off her boots, unbuckled her jeans, and stood in a sports bra and underwear that had seen better days. "Where do you want me?"
"Any of them," Vance said. "They're identical."
Amber picked the middle table, hoisting herself up with a grunt. "Okay. Let's do this."
Becca moved toward her on instinct, her hands finding the leather restraints. She'd been on this table. She remembered the cold leather against her wrists, the panic that had clawed up her throat when they'd tightened the straps. She remembered the creature sliding inside her, the impossible weight of it, and then the strange, terrifying warmth of acceptance.
"Breathe," she said softly, and Amber let out a shaky laugh.
"Who's breathing for who, Holloway?"
"Both of us."
Chloe was helping Jasmine onto the adjacent table, her movements gentle, careful. Jasmine's composure held until her back hit the leather, and then something in her face flickered, a crack in the polished surface. Chloe noticed. She took Jasmine's hand and pressed it briefly.
"It'll be over fast," she said. "And then it's just... waiting."
"Waiting," Jasmine repeated, as if tasting the word.
Lydia was still standing by the door, arms wrapped around herself. Her cap was pulled low, hiding her eyes. Becca finished securing Amber's left wrist and looked over.
"Lydia. You're up."
Lydia didn't move for a long moment. Then she pulled off her cap, revealing close-cropped black hair, and crossed to the third table. She undressed without ceremony, folding each item of clothing with precise, deliberate folds, and lay down on the table like she was settling into a coffin. Her hands were at her sides, fists clenched.
Becca moved to her, holding a restraint. "You okay?"
"No," Lydia said, her voice small. "But I'm here."
Becca secured her wrists, then her ankles. The leather was soft against Lydia's skin, padded enough to avoid chafing. Becca remembered how it had felt, the helplessness burning through her. She touched Lydia's shoulder, feather-light.
"It's going to feel wrong at first. Like something that shouldn't be there. But it'll pass. Give it time."
Lydia's throat worked. "How much time?"
"I don't know. But it passes." Becca straightened, looking at the three women laid out before her. Amber, eyes closed, jaw set. Jasmine, staring at the ceiling, one hand trembling against the restraint. Lydia, small and pale against the white leather, her breath shallow.
Chloe came to stand beside her, their shoulders touching. "Did we look that scared?"
"Probably." Becca's voice was thick. "I couldn't see myself."
Vance had disappeared through a side door. The silence stretched, broken only by the hum of machinery and the soft rhythm of breathing. Becca felt her creature pulse, a slow, questioning thrum. She felt Chloe's creature answer, the two of them humming in the quiet like a held note.
Then the side door opened.
Vance emerged pushing a cart, the same cart Becca remembered. A translucent tank sat on top, filled with dark fluid that sloshed gently with the movement. Something moved inside it, a shape that twisted and turned in the depths, catching the light.
Becca's breath caught. She remembered that shape. The round, bulbous body, the trailing tentacles, the eyes that had looked up at her through the murk.
Vance positioned the cart between the three tables. The fluid settled, and for a moment, everything was still.
"The procedure is unchanged," Vance said. "The creature will be placed within the host's body and will remain there for ten days. The bond is immediate, if it chooses you." He looked at the three women, then at Becca and Chloe. "It will be up to them now."
Amber's eyes were open. She was watching the tank, her face unreadable. "They're in there? All three?"
"Yes."
Jasmine swallowed. "Do they know who they're picking?"
"They know," Becca said, and she didn't know how she knew, but she did. The creatures could feel them, their fear, their hope, their reasons. "They've been listening."
The fluid stirred. One of the shapes pushed toward the surface, tentacles pressing against the glass. Then another, and another, drawn to the warmth of the room, to the quiet hum of the two creatures that already called these bodies home.
Lydia's breath hitched. "They're moving."
"Let them," Chloe whispered.
The tank wobbled, fluid sloshing over the lip as the first creature pressed against the opening. Vance stepped back, hands clasped behind his back, watching.
The first of the Xanthari rose from the dark water, its eyes glowing faintly in the harsh lab light, tasting the air. It turned, slow and deliberate, and Becca could have sworn it looked at her for a moment, a flash of recognition, before it turned back to the three waiting tables and made its choice.
Jasmine's breath hitched as the creature's eyes locked onto her. Her pale face blanched further, the composure she'd worn like armor cracking around the edges.
"It's me," she whispered. "It chose me."
Vance rolled the cart forward, positioning it between Jasmine's parted legs. The creature slid over the lip of the tank, its bulbous body glistening, tentacles trailing like wet silk. It moved with a strange, deliberate grace, crossing the short distance to the table with an almost reverent slowness.
Becca moved to Jasmine's left side without thinking. Chloe took the right. Their hands found hers, clasping tight, grounding her in the present moment as the creature came to rest at the junction of her thighs.
"Look at me," Becca said softly. Jasmine's eyes, wide and dark, found hers. "Don't watch. Just look at me."
"Breathe," Chloe added, her voice steady. "In through your nose, out through your mouth. Slow."
Jasmine's breath shuddered out of her. The creature pressed a tentacle to her inner thigh, and Becca watched Jasmine's face as the touch registered. The tentacle was wet, warm, seeking. It traced a slow path up her skin, leaving a glistening trail, pausing at the crease where her thigh met her hip.
"Okay," Jasmine exhaled. "Okay."
The creature shifted, its body rising slightly, and Becca felt her own creature pulse in sympathetic response. She saw Chloe's hand tighten around Jasmine's, saw the tendons in Chloe's wrist stand out.
The first pressure came as a tentacle found Jasmine's entrance. Jasmine's jaw tightened, her breath hissing through her teeth. Her hips twitched involuntarily against the leather restraints.
"Squeeze my hand," Becca said. "As hard as you need to."
Jasmine's grip was crushing, her knuckles white. The creature pushed deeper, its tentacle working its way inside her, and Becca watched the flat plane of Jasmine's stomach ripple with the intrusion. She was thin, all sharp angles and defined bone, and the creature's presence was visible almost immediately, a shifting bulge beneath her skin.
"It's stretching you," Chloe murmured. "That's normal. It has to open you up to get inside."
"I know," Jasmine ground out. "I read the briefing."
"Reading's not the same."
"No," Jasmine gasped. "No, it's not."
The creature's body began to follow its tentacle, its round mass pressing against her opening. Jasmine cried out, a sharp sound cut off as she bit her lip. Her body arched against the restraints, her spine bowing off the table.
Becca's heart hammered in her chest. She'd wanted to forget this part, the impossible pressure of being filled by something too large, too foreign, the body's panicked fight against the invasion. She remembered the straps biting into her wrists, the terror of being unable to move, unable to escape something that wasn't supposed to be inside a person.
But there was also the other part. The moment her body had finally surrendered and the creature had settled into her, the panic replaced by a strange, humming warmth that had felt almost like being held.
"It won't last," Becca said, leaning close to Jasmine's ear. "The hard part. Just a few more seconds and it'll be inside you. And then it'll be okay. I promise."
Jasmine's body shuddered, a full-body tremor that ran from her clenched jaw to her curled toes. The creature's bulbous head pushed past the entrance, stretching her impossibly wide, and Jasmine let out a broken sob that was half pain, half sound of surrender.
Chloe pressed Jasmine's hand to her own belly, letting the creature inside her hum against Jasmine's palm. Jasmine's eyes went wide, her sobs catching in her throat.
"Feel that?" Chloe asked softly. "That's what's coming. That's what it'll feel like when it settles in."
Jasmine's lips parted, and something shifted in her expression. The fear didn't leave, but something else came into it, a flicker of wonder breaking through the terror.
The creature pushed deeper, and Jasmine's stomach visibly distended as its body slipped fully inside her. Becca watched the bulge travel across her abdomen, the creature's mass claiming the space beneath her ribs. Jasmine's thin frame made the shape unmistakable, the swell of it rounding her belly into a pronounced curve, as though she'd been suddenly six months pregnant.
And then, with a final, wet shifting, it was done.
The creature settled inside her, its body finding its place, and Jasmine let out a long, shuddering breath. Her body went limp against the table, her grip on Becca's hand loosening.
"God," she whispered. "Oh god."
"Is it...?" Chloe started.
Jasmine's hand slowly rose, trembling, and came to rest on the swell of her belly. Her fingertips spread across the taut skin, feeling the shape beneath. The creature shifted inside her, a slow, rolling movement, and Jasmine's breath caught.
"It's moving," she said. "I can feel it. It's just... sitting there. Like it's waiting."
Becca smiled, something loosening in her chest. "It's getting comfortable. Getting to know you."
Jasmine looked at her, and for the first time, the mask was gone entirely. Her eyes were red, her face blotchy, her hair coming loose from its elaborate braid. She looked naked in a way that had nothing to do with the white leather beneath her.
"It didn't hurt," Jasmine said, her voice cracking. "After a moment. It was like my body just... opened up and let it in."
"That's how it works," Becca said. "When it chooses you, your body knows. It doesn't fight it anymore."
Jasmine's laugh was wet, disbelieving. "I thought I'd be sick. I thought I'd panic, and it would hurt, and I'd regret everything the moment it went inside me."
"But you didn't."
"No." Jasmine's hand pressed firmer against her belly, and the creature pulsed beneath her palm, a gentle greeting. "I didn't."
Vance had been watching in silence, a tablet in his hand. He stepped forward now, making notes, his face carefully neutral but his eyes bright with something like satisfaction.
"Excellent," he said. "The bond appears to be forming rapidly. That's a very good sign."
Becca looked past him, toward the other two tables. Amber was watching Jasmine with wide eyes, her face pale beneath its flush. Lydia had turned her head away, her body rigid against the restraints.
The tank sat between the remaining tables, two shapes still moving in the dark water. The creatures were waiting. Watching. Choosing.
Amber's gaze had been fixed on the tank since the cart had stopped rolling. She'd watched Jasmine's bonding with one eye, cataloguing the process, filing away the details for later. But the other eye, the one that had been trained to spot threats in the dark, had never left the water.
One of the shapes kept pressing against the glass nearest her table. Its tentacles would flatten against the transparent wall, then slide away, only to return a moment later, like a hand testing a door. The third creature circled at the back of the tank, slower, more patient, as if waiting for something.
Becca noticed. She saw the way Amber's chin had lifted, the way her eyes had narrowed to focus on that one shape in the water. There was something in her posture that hadn't been there before, a stillness that had nothing to do with being strapped down.
"Amber?" Becca said. "You okay?"
"I feel it," Amber said, her voice low. "That pull. It's like a fishing line hooked behind my sternum, tugging, telling me to look. It's been doing it since the cart came in." She swallowed. "I thought it was just nerves. But it's not. It's them."
Chloe moved to stand beside Becca. "The creatures are reaching out. Trying to find the right one."
"The right one." Amber's laugh was quiet, rough. "He keeps pressing against the glass. Look at him."
They all looked. The creature nearest Amber's table had both tentacles pressed flat against the wall of the tank now, its glowing eyes fixed on her. It wasn't moving toward the opening. It was just watching her, its body pulsing with a steady, urgent rhythm that seemed to match the beating of her heart.
"He's staring at me," Amber said. "I haven't been stared at like that since basic training, and that was a drill sergeant who hated my guts."
"Different kind of attention," Becca said softly.
"Yeah. This one wants in my pants for a whole other reason."
Lydia, on her table, let out a shaky breath that might have been a laugh. Jasmine had turned her head, her hand still pressed to her belly, watching Amber with a strange, knowing intensity.
"It's not a joke," Jasmine whispered. "What you're feeling, that's the choice. It's happening right now, inside you, and it doesn't care about anything you think you know."
Amber's jaw worked. She stared at the creature in the tank, at its round, bulbous body, its eyes that glowed like small moons in the dark water. She thought about her knees, wrecked and useless, the medical discharge that had ended her career with a form and a handshake. She thought about the years since, the drift, the nothing.
"Back in the lounge," she said quietly, "I said I can carry. I meant it."
She sat up.
The restraints had been loose on her wrists, she'd levered herself up on her elbows, pushing against the leather. The straps were still secured, but there was enough give that she could lean forward, could angle her body toward the tank.
"Amber, you need to lie down," Vance said, a note of alarm in his voice. "The creature can only bond when you're—"
"I don't give a damn what the creature can only do when." Amber's voice was steel. "I've spent my whole life following orders, doing what I was told, lying down and taking it because that's what was expected. Not this time. This time I get a say."
She reached out with her free hand, stretching as far as the restraint would allow. She couldn't reach the tank. It was too far. But she reached anyway, her fingers splayed, her arm trembling with the effort.
"He's been reaching for me," she said. "He can meet me halfway."
The creature in the tank went still. The tentacles that had been pressing against the glass slid away, and for a long moment, it hung in the dark water, its eyes fixed on Amber's outstretched hand. Then it moved.
It rose to the surface of the water in a single fluid motion, bursting through the surface with a wet gasp. It clambered over the lip of the tank in a tangle of tentacles and slick, pale flesh, dripping water across the tile floor. It moved toward her table with a speed that surprised everyone in the room, its bulbous body undulating, its tentacles pulling it forward like small, seeking hands.
"Shit," Amber breathed. "It came out."
The creature crossed the space between them and stopped at the base of the table, its eyes level with hers. It regarded her for a long, silent moment. Then it raised a single tentacle and pressed it against her outstretched palm, the touch cool and wet and strangely gentle.
Amber felt the pull, the tug behind her sternum, but it was different now. It was warm. It was welcoming. It was like a hand closing around her heart and squeezing, not to hurt, but to hold.
"Hey there," she whispered. "You've got good taste."
The creature's tentacle slid from her palm, tracing up her arm, leaving a glistening trail on her skin. It paused at the crook of her elbow, then moved higher, up over her shoulder, along her collarbone. Her breath hitched as it reached the hollow of her throat.
"You're going to let it in?" Chloe asked softly. "On your terms?"
"That's the deal." Amber's voice was steady. "It meets me halfway, I open the door. But I'm doing it standing up, metaphorically speaking. I'm not lying on my back for anyone, human or alien. I've done enough of that in my life."
The creature's tentacle traced down the center of her chest, over the hollow between her breasts, stopping at the waistband of her sports bra. Becca could see the creature's body pulsing, a slow rhythm that seemed to resonate with Amber's heartbeat.
"What do I do?" Amber asked, looking at Becca. "It's not exactly following the script."
"I don't think it cares about the script," Becca said. "I think it cares about you."
Amber laughed, a rough, honest sound. "Okay." She pulled her sports bra up, exposing the flat plane of her stomach, the soft skin beneath. She slid her hand down, pressing it against her belly, just below her navel. "Come on, then. Room's open."
The creature's tentacle came to rest on her hand, layering above it. For a long moment, nothing happened. Then Amber gasped, her eyes going wide, as the tentacle pressed through her skin, as the creature's body began to follow, sliding into her through the opening it had made, through the space her hand had been.
Becca saw it happen. She saw Amber's face as the creature entered her, saw the fear and the wonder and the stubborn, unbroken defiance all fighting for dominance in her expression. She saw Amber's hand curl against her own belly, as if she were holding the creature steady, a guide rather than a victim.
"God," Amber whispered. "God, you're big."
Her stomach rippled as the creature's mass settled into her. The flat plane of her abdomen began to swell, rounding out in slow increments, the alien shape pressing outward against the soft flesh. Amber watched it happen with wide eyes, her hand pressed flat against the growing mound.
"That's a lot of tentacle," she said, and there was a laugh cracking her voice open. "How much of you is in there?"
The creature pulsed inside her, a gentle answer. Amber's breath caught.
"I'll take that as a lot." She looked at Becca, and there was something fierce and vulnerable in her gaze. "Did I do it right? Did I do it the way it wanted?"
"I think you did it the way you wanted," Becca said. "Which is what it was hoping for."
Amber's laugh was wet now, but it was real. She sank back onto the table, the new weight in her belly settling against her like a sleeping animal. Her hand never left it, her palm pressed against the curve, feeling it move.
The creature had chosen her. And she had met it halfway.
The moment hung in the air, Amber's breath still evening out, her hand pressed to the swell of her belly. The room felt smaller now, warmer, charged with the strange intimacy of what had just happened. Becca let herself breathe, watching Jasmine and Amber, two women who had walked in rigid with fear and were now lying back, hands on their new curves, faces softened by something she recognized.
Then a sound cut through the quiet.
A rapid, shallow breathing, like a rabbit in a trap. Becca turned. Lydia was still on her table, her body rigid as a board, her eyes wide and fixed on the tank. Her chest rose and fell in short, frantic bursts, and her lips had gone pale, almost blue.
"Lydia," Chloe said, stepping toward her. "Hey. Hey, look at me."
Lydia's head shook in small, jerky movements, her gaze darting from the tank to the door and back again. "I can't," she said, her voice thin and reedy. "I can't do this again."
"Again?" Becca moved to her other side, her belly brushing the edge of the table. "Lydia, this is your first time. There's nothing to do again."
But Lydia was shaking her head harder now, her whole body trembling against the leather restraints. "You don't understand. I've had things inside me before. Things I didn't ask for. Things that—" Her voice cracked, splintering. "I can't. I can't lie here and let something else in. I thought I could, but I can't."
Chloe reached for her hand, but Lydia jerked away, her wrists straining against the straps. Her breath came in gasps, audible, ragged, panicked.
"Lydia," Chloe said, pitching her voice low and even. "You're safe. You're in control here. Nothing is going to happen until you're ready."
"You don't know that," Lydia bit out. "You don't know anything. You both chose this. You wanted it. I just—" She choked, her eyes glistening. "I just wanted to matter. But I don't. Not enough for this."
Becca's chest ached. She remembered the helplessness, the fear, the white-hot panic that had clawed through her when the creature had first slid inside her. But she also remembered choice. Consent. The knowledge that this was something she had agreed to, however reluctantly.
"Lydia," she said, her voice soft. "Look at me."
Lydia's eyes, wild and glassy, found hers.
"I was strapped to that table six days ago, and I was terrified. Not scared, not nervous. Terrified. I cried. I begged. I think I might have called for my mother." She swallowed. "But it passed. Because the creature inside me didn't hurt me. It didn't take anything I wasn't willing to give. It just asked, and I said yes."
Lydia's breath hitched. "That's different. You had a choice."
"You have a choice too," Chloe said, leaning in. "We can unstrap you right now. Vance won't like it, but he can't force you. No one can. If you want to walk out of here, you can."
Lydia stared at her, tears spilling down her cheeks. For a long, trembling moment, it looked as though she might take the offer. Her body shifted toward the edge of the table, her hands curling against the restraints.
Then the tank moved.
The last creature, the one that had been circling at the back, rose from the dark water in one slow, deliberate motion. It didn't burst for the surface like Amber's had. It simply drifted upward, its round body breaking the film of the water with barely a ripple, its eyes glowing like twin lanterns in the dim lab light.
And those eyes found Lydia.
The room went still. Lydia's breath caught in her throat, her panic freezing mid-gasp. She stared back at the creature, her face gone slack, her body going very, very quiet.
"Lydia?" Becca whispered.
But Lydia didn't answer. She was watching the creature, and the creature was watching her, and there was something in that exchange, something ancient and wordless, that made Becca's own creature pulse in her belly, a single, resonant hum of recognition.
The creature slid over the lip of the tank, its tentacles trailing behind it, wet and glistening. It moved across the tile with a strange, almost reverent slowness, pausing once to look back at the tank, then continuing toward Lydia's table.
Lydia didn't move. She didn't blink. She just watched it come.
The creature reached the base of her table and paused. Its eyes were level with hers, close enough that Becca could see the faint patterns in their glow, the way they pulsed in time with something she couldn't hear. It raised a single tentacle, wet and patient, and reached toward her.
Lydia flinched, her body bracing, her eyes squeezing shut. She waited for the invasion, the violation, the return of every night she'd tried to forget.
But the tentacle didn't go inside her. It didn't push, didn't probe. It came to rest on the flat of her belly, just above her navel, light and warm. A second tentacle joined it, pressing gently through the fabric of her shirt, and then the creature simply held her there, a hand laid calm and open over the place where it wanted to be.
Lydia's eyes opened. She looked down at the tentacles on her belly, then up at the creature's glowing eyes. It was asking. Waiting. Offering a choice.
"I don't," she started, her voice bare and raw. "I don't know how to say yes."
The creature pulsed, a soft, rhythmic beat against her belly, like a heartbeat. Like a reassurance.
"Then don't say anything," Chloe murmured. "Just let it happen."
Lydia's breath shuddered out of her. She looked at Becca, at Chloe, at Jasmine and Amber on their tables, all of them watching her with something that wasn't pity. It was understanding.
"Okay," she whispered. And then, louder, stronger, "Okay."
The creature's tentacles slid away from her belly, tracing down her sides, finding the hem of her shirt. It lifted the fabric, revealing the pale stretch of her stomach, the sharp jut of her hipbones. Becca stepped forward and helped, pulling the shirt over Lydia's head, and the creature moved again, its tentacles sliding down, down, to the waistband of her leggings.
Lydia closed her eyes. Her hands clenched the table's edge. But she didn't pull away.
The leggings came off. The creature positioned itself between her legs, its body rising, its tentacles pressing gently against her inner thighs, spreading her. Lydia's breath came faster, but it was different now, less panic and more anticipation, a trembling readiness that Becca recognized.
"Look at it," Becca said softly. "Don't close your eyes. Look at it, and it'll be easier."
Lydia opened her eyes. The creature was there, hovering at the junction of her thighs, its glowing eyes meeting hers. It reached up with a single tentacle and touched her cheek, wet and cool and impossibly gentle. Lydia flinched, then stilled.
"It sees you," Chloe said. "It sees all of you, and it still wants you. That's not something to be afraid of."
A tear slid down Lydia's cheek, catching on the tentacle that traced it away.
Then the creature pressed forward.
Lydia gasped, her body arching off the table as the creature's body began to slide inside her. It was slow, patient, waiting for her to adjust, to open, to accept. Becca watched the tremors run through Lydia's thin frame, watched her jaw clench and her fists ball, watched the creature's tentacles curl around her thighs, steadying, holding.
"It's okay," Becca murmured. "You're doing so well."
Lydia's breath came in short, hitching sobs, but her body was opening, the creature sliding deeper, its round mass pressing through her, filling her, claiming her. The swell in her belly was visible immediately, a small mound rising beneath her skin, the creature's shape pressing outward.
"Just a little more," Chloe said. "You're almost there."
And then, with a final, wet shift, it was inside.
Lydia's whole body went limp. Her head fell back, her chest heaving, her eyes half-closed. The creature settled inside her, and Becca watched the tension drain from her in waves, her shoulders dropping, her hands unclenching, her breathing slowing from gasps to long, trembling sighs.
She lay there for a long moment, her hand creeping down, almost unconsciously, to rest on the new swell of her belly. The creature pulsed beneath her palm, a gentle greeting, and Lydia's breath caught.
"It's warm," she whispered. "It's so warm."
"Take your time," Becca said.
Lydia's eyes opened, and they were clear now, no longer glassy with panic. She looked at her own belly, at the curve that hadn't been there an hour ago, and a fragile, wondering smile touched her lips.
"It didn't hurt," she said. "Not the way I thought it would. It just... it held me through it. I could feel it. It was like it was telling me it was okay, that I was okay, that nothing was going to happen to me that I didn't want."
She looked up at Becca and Chloe, and there was something raw and new in her gaze, something that had been waiting a long, long time to be seen.
"I think it knew," she said softly. "It knew I was scared. And it waited. It didn't rush me. It just waited until I was ready."
The creature pulsed again, and Lydia laughed, a wet, broken sound. "Okay," she whispered to it. "Okay. I'm ready."
Vance stepped forward, his tablet in hand, his face carefully neutral. But there was a light in his eyes, a quiet satisfaction, as he made his notes. Three women, three tables, three creatures, all bonded.
Becca looked around the room at them: Amber with her fierce defiance and her hand on her belly, Jasmine with her composure cracked open into something real, and Lydia, small and pale, transformed by the weight of the creature inside her, no longer drifting, no longer unseen.
Becca felt her own creature hum in her belly, a deep, resonant thrum that seemed to echo through the space between the four of them, a greeting, a welcome, a knowing.
And Chloe reached out and took her hand, their fingers lacing together, their bellies bumping gently as they stood side by side, watching the three women who had just become the future of a dying race.