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Now I can think of nothing else. Am I already pregnant? Is there a several-mornings-after pill for caterpillar babies?
I am lost in paranoid thought when Order grips my wrist lightly, but firmly. “Let’s go to bed,” he says, his eight eyes searching my face.
I bet he’d like that. I bet he’d like to take me to bed and fill me all the way to the brim with mutant eggs. Why does the idea excite me almost as much as it horrifies me? Why do I feel a twinge of arousal at the same time as a wave of revulsion?
Thankfully, I have Obigor as a distraction.
“I need to take him up to go potty,” I tell Order. “I’ll be there soon.”’
Obigor snuggles into the crook of my arm, as I climb the stairs up out of the vault very carefully.
He snuffles under the moonlit sky, and I think about running away. This is all so completely, utterly bizarre, I feel like I might be going mad. There’s one person I can talk to about this. One person I have to talk to about this. I promised Chief Connor I would call him when I got in, and I have no intention of breaking that promise.
I take out my phone and give the chief a quick call. Or I at least try to. Before I can make contact, the phone is snatched out of my hand from behind. I whirl and see Order standing over me, blue eyes piercing.
“What are you doing?” We ask the question of one another at the same time in similarly strident tones.
“Give me my phone!” I follow the question up with a demand. I reach out and try to snatch the device back, but of course he’s taller than me and he has no trouble holding it up over my head. “Don’t think I won’t climb you!”
Order smirks. “I told you we have to go radio silent. My people are under attack.”
“Well, my people are wondering where I am. And where Sally is. My people are going to send people. Connor’s not going to let you take me and turn me into a mo… a ma… a mo…” I can’t even get it out. Mom. I am not ready to be one of them.
“A what now? What’s wrong with you? You’ve been tense all night.”
He asks the question, and the answer is ready to leap out of my head.
“Did you knock me up!? I am not ready to parent squirmy larvae.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” Order says, calming me immediately. “Spiderlings are much cuter when they hatch.”
His answer does precisely nothing to reassure me. I thought I might have kids one day, but not spider babies with a mutant who lives in a hole in the ground. I do have standards.
“Tell me I am not pregnant. Tell me it’s not possible. Tell me I am not going to lay fucking eggs, Order.”
“You are not pregnant,” he says, becoming instantly more serious.
“Are you sure? How can you be sure? We’ve had sex. You’ve…” I wave my hands about as I search for the right words. “Shot your seed inside me. Is it replicating up in there? Am I going to birth a cluster of spider-human egg babies?”
These are valid, if not entirely coherent questions.
“You’re not pregnant,” he says more firmly.
“How can you know that?”
He sighs and gives me an eight-eyed incredulous look. “I feel the IUD when I am inside you.”
“That’s right!” I snap my fingers. “Holy fuck, of course! I forgot amid all the…”
“You’re overtired,” he says. “Come. It’s time for bed.”
I hesitate. “Are you going to wrap me up and carry me down there if I say no?”
“Do you want me to?”
“No. I’m starting to feel like I’m being dragged around like an accessory.”
“Like my pet, you mean. The same way you take your little Obigor around.”
