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The Coalition is still my best hope for achieving this, so I head into town towards the Leewark Hotel, acting as the delegates’ meeting point. I don’t have to look very hard to find him outside, standing guard at the front door with dark glasses and a small earpiece sticking from his blue fur.
“Private Drex.” His voice is smooth but stern. “You better have good news, son.” I smile as he relaxes into a grin, with a toothpick running through his teeth.
“I do, sir. It’s twins.”
He pauses, letting out a low whistle as it sinks in. “Twins, well. Congratulations, Private.”
“Thank you, sir. And I need to get them off Armstrong, sir. As soon as possible. I don’t care if it doesn't work for the Coalition. I’m not leaving without them. You can rip up my contract if you want.”
“Relax, soldier. This diplomatic mission has led to a temporary cease-fire for the next two weeks. We’re going to evacuate as many civilians as possible during that window. You, your mate and kids, and whoever else will be out in week three, when the rest of the military moves out. It’ll be heavy, but we’d rather keep you together. The last thing I need is the Ambassador accusing me of leaving any families behind.” I can’t believe what I’m hearing.
“Thank you, sir.”
Kyltic’s gruff exterior fades momentarily as he places a hand on my shoulder. “Twins, eh?” He grins, adjusting the toothpick from his lips. He pats my shoulder. “Get some sleep, soldier, you look like you could use it.”
“Thank you, sir.” I won’t reveal my relief too much, but the grin under my cheeks remains in place as I shake his hand.
“Be ready to move out in three weeks, you understand? It won't be pretty, but it’s your one shot out of here. You may wait years for another one, depending on how the war goes in the rest of the galaxy.”
“We won’t miss it, sir. I’ll make sure of it.” As I turn to leave, a wave of relief takes over me, freeing my expression.
I’m walking through rubble and debris. I'm stepping over concrete barriers and showing my pass to move from one part of the town to the other. It’s crazy. It’s hellish. It’s war, but I’m on cloud nine. It seems despite all we went through to get here and the fear that I’d never find her, things are finally looking up.
As I re-enter Sophia’s hospital room, I see my family huddled in sleep together. Sophia has both twins in her arms, while Isa snoozes on the sofa nearby. I loathe to wake them, and the drowsiness of the room beckons me to join, but I feel vigilant to stay alert for the time being. They can rest easy now, knowing that true peace awaits them as soon as I get us off this rock.
Sophia’s eyes open, taking me in. “You’re back.”
“I am,” I say, walking to her and cupping my palm around her face. “I've got good news. We’re off Armstrong in three weeks. All of us.”
25
SOPHIA
One of the babies is crying. I thought human newborns could be loud, but they’re nothing compared to the lungs of a Kaleidian baby. With a groan, I roll over.
“You want me to take it?” Drex asks, sitting up.
“It sounds like an ‘I’m hungry’ cry,” I reply, already out of bed. “And I only have one bottle left from the last time I pumped. You can take the next one.” Because there will inevitably be a next one. As soon as one of the twins starts crying, the other joins in the chorus.
It’s not a matter of if but when.
Little Bianca is the hungry one this time. I check her diaper, find it clean, and pull down my shirt to feed her. She latches easily and starts sucking, her wails becoming little grunts.
Isa appears in the doorway. “Need help?” she asks, her voice still bleary from sleep.
Rocking Bianca back and forth as she feeds, I wave her off. “I can handle it. Go back to bed.”
She yawns. “Okay. Goodnight.”
I smile. “Goodnight.” Once the baby lets go, I set her on my shoulder and pat her back until a few good burps bubble up from her belly. “Okay, Beebee, back to bed,” I say, lifting her and pressing a kiss to her pudgy little cheek.
She waves her little hands, cooing even as her eyelids droop. Humming a lullaby, I set her in the crib next to her brother, who has already begun to stir. I sigh. Of course, he would be hungry, too.
Azel’s little face screws up as he gets ready to wail, but I pick him up before he can wake Bianca after she had just fallen back asleep. “Time for a midnight snack,” I whisper, holding him to the breast Bianca had not used.
While his sister has their father’s teal eyes and silvery hair, Azel takes after me with his brown eyes and brown hair. I hum the same lullaby Mama used to sing to me as a kid. My heart squeezes as I realize that I have forgotten most of the words, and I’ll never be able to ask her what they were.
She was so close to meeting them. If she had just hung on a few more days, then maybe…
