It's as if someone replaced my spine with a lead pipe after beating me within an inch of my life with it. I massage the splitting pain in my temples, but no matter how hard I press, the pain won't dissolve. It lurks behind my eyes and mocks me from within.

My mouth itches. I try to scratch it around the blue tube stuck to my upper lip. The protruding tab was wedged between my teeth, making it impossible for my jaw to close. When I try to rip the device from my face, I only succeed in increasing the agony.

After a few more minutes of exhausting effort, I slump to the floor, defeated.

My suit and helmet are gone. The stone floor chills the back of my naked thighs. All I have between me and the alien atmosphere is a thin, stiff shift made of what also feels like sheets of compact sand.

Screeching from the release of air from the complex hydraulics of the Xani startles me. From the shadows of the room, its eyeless face peers from within the shadows. Its slack mouth drools orange gobs that pile under its forehead.

I can't shove myself in the corner of the room fast enough.

I open my hand to request help on my PAHLM, but the device is gone. My arm is naked.

The room isn't cold, but the second I recognize how bare I am, my body shudders. My arms wrap around my knees as best they can around my bulging stomach. Something is not right inside. There's mismatched wiring, a burner that never ignited, an obstruction in the airflow. Something is wrong. "Hello?" I cry out again. "I need help."

My heart, or his heart, or something, is beating too fast.

"Calm down," I say to him. I repeat it over and over until it becomes a prayer.

The Xani shifts, kicking up a cloud of dust, obscuring it in a cloud.

I press myself farther against the wall, flinching at the soreness in my bones. It's how I imagine iron feels when being smacked into alignment with a hammer.

Rapid clicking footsteps approach – a beat I know so well.

"Pama!" I flip to my knees to stand, but it's impossible. My legs are too sore to work.

The brown wall in front of me breaks into dust. It cascades down until there is nothing between me and the next room. Two pink guards and Commander Hayomo appear. She is regal in her black and gray battle dress.

"What you have done tonight, Commander Lorn, disgraces the URE."

I expect as much.

"You sneak away from the ship alone. You wander, unaccompanied through one of the six largest intergalactic stations in the galaxy and managed to find an establishment lurid enough to commence your own bar brawl. You're no different from the impetuous child I scraped from the bottom of your family's vile junk-pile eatery. What you have done tonight is an embarrassment. And on top of it all—" stares at the swell of my middle.

She shakes her head and turns away from me as if this whole ordeal has personally offended her. Her chest rises and falls with the release of a tight, unhappy breath. I feel the immense pressure of her insurmountable disappointment.

She drops down to rest on her haunches. "How far along are you?"

"Twenty-two weeks."

I wrap my arms over my shoulders, attempting to shield myself. The way she scrutinizes me, almost as if she was appraising a cucumber at the bottom of a crate, makes my skin crawl. I feel like vomiting. I need help.

She stands to leave. "Are there any last requests?"

I waffle between how much I want to say and how much I'll regret not asking. Do I incriminate those whom I trusted? Something isn't right. "Can you send someone to check on the baby? I'm . . ." I don't want to acknowledge that something is wrong. But I have to. "I'm not feeling well. Can you send for a medic?"

"I will." She pivots toward the exit.

"Medic K," I shout before our barrier returns. "Please. Can you send Medic K? Knuckles?"

She departs without acknowledging if she heard me begging. When the sand and stone wall collapses into place, my own strength crumbles. I coil inward, hoping that by the time Hayomo returns, I'll be dust particles.

The Xani settles on the ground with me. The top of its head rests on the ground—its jaw hangs open with ooze running thick rivers around its cheeks. It stares at me with open sockets.

I sit up and push up against the wall, folding my hands below the swell, pressing around, feeling the contours of my child. We're alive. I face the Xani. "So you helped me."

I can see down its open gullet right into the wall behind it. Its mechanical crab legs are folded underneath its silver abdomen, the two sharp front blades rotating casually in the dust. It doesn't move otherwise. Watching it in its calm state, un-agitated by its incarceration, unaffected by the fact that it's stuck here, completely fine with the fact that it's trapped while our ship is docked somewhere above us — I clench my jaw. Sharp tension shoots through my shoulder again.

I gather my courage and memorize its contours. In its mouth, the orange outline of teeth appear. It has a wide, smooth face and perfect almond eyes. It doesn't have hair. Not even the mold of hair. The perfectly spherical dome frames a long nose with gentle flares. If its jaw wasn't dislocated and hanging open, I'd imagine that the face was a nice one. The neck leads to a svelte orange chest. I can see the outlines of its muscular form, but there are no muscles. Only goo.

"Lorn?" A musical voice, distorted through the crackle of a helmet's speaker, punches through the silence.

The gravel slides down again and reveals Knuckles and Coodi behind its thick surface.

"Knuckles! Lady Almighty, I never thought I'd be so happy to see your face." I try to roll over to my side to pull myself up, but I can't. My muscles won't exert the effort.

"Don't move, you moron. You're bound to injure yourself further. I'm coming in."

He drops to his knees beside me while Coodi watches the door. When he grabs something from the satchel at his side, we all jump when the Xani bristles to activity and, within nanoseconds, covers my body. Coodi pulls Knuckles out of its path in just enough time to avoid being skewered by the spinning blades.

"What the fuck is this?" Knuckles screams. Coodi pants behind him, holding his chest to keep him from being its next victim.

Knuckles is pale with terror. It's a terror I'm suddenly a stranger to. I don't know why anyone is afraid. Not sure, but propelled by some gut instinct, I gently touch the panel above my head.

The Xani shudders. We all wait while it deflates, sinking lower and lower and bobbing sideways until it returns to its corner in the shadows. With a chest still raised, it's neck flipped over, it watches us without eyes.

With a look of abject horror, his glasses completely askew across the bridge of his wide nose, he fumbles for words.

Coodi keeps her sharp eyes honed on the Xani.

"It's okay," I say. "I don't think it'll come close again."

Knuckles leans forward, his hands shake as he slides on his knees and convulses while pulling himself together on his own. The sight makes back of my eyes sting. A single tear leaks out.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Sniffling, I wipe it with the heel of my hand and wrap my arms around Knuckles to pull him toward me. Dean's arms helped me, so maybe that's all he needs. Our position on the floor is awkward. I stretch up painfully to hold his neck close to mine while his fists tremble at his side.

"I'm fine," he croaks out from my neck.

When he fully retreats from my embrace, I catch the hardened look of Knuckles that I'm so used to seeing. Behind him, Coodi returns to watching the door. Her eyes dart back the Xani frequently.

"What the fuck were you thinking? Traveling here alone, to a foreign planet without anyone else who knows the customs, the language, the territory? You're mad. Certifiable."

I grab his hand as he places little electrodes over my dirt dusted skin. "Is he okay?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out if you'd let me get on with it." He pulls his hand from mine.

He's mad.

Little clear tabs stick to my skin. He opens his PAHLM and scrolls through the analytics.

"He's better now. Stabilized." His words are flat.

"Better?" I ask, sitting up to try and read the information in his hand.

"Yes, better. Why do you think I sent you six thousand PIMs? It wasn't because I missed you."

"What happened?"

"Your child was in massive distress. It caused accelerated heart rate and increased Cortisol. I was terrified. I tried to get you to come up to the lab, but at that point, I didn't know that you had wandered down the rabbit hole."

I cock my head to the side. The Xani, from his corner, does the same.

"But readings are stabilized now. I won't know how the event will affect him until we get back to the clinic onboard. My fear is that this high-stress situation will impact your timing. You may go into early labor. You will most likely be confined to bed rest."

My jaw drops. Me? Bed rest?

"Since it seems as though you're stuck here for a while, bed rest might finally be an achievable prognosis for Commander Janika Lorn."

I shake my head dismally. "I'm only stuck here for a few sondits, they said. I'll be back in your clinic and bugging you before you can say 'lab rat'."

"Based on what you disclosed to me about the method of calculating time, you're going to be here over thirty Earth days."

"Thirty. . ." I stammer. "Thirty? Thirty Earth days?" I look to Coodi who has not met my eyes once this entire time. "I can't stay here for thirty days."

"I'll request that they give you more garments for warmth. Apparently, they considered even your basest necessities a bit of armor."

I roll my eyes and scoff. They've obviously never had to wear a bra before.

We're silent as he cleans up the little stickies, rubbing them dry and returning them to his satchel.

"Knuckles," I grab his wrist again. "Thank you for coming to help me."

"I didn't come here for you."

"Don't go. Stay. Please."

He hesitates. "I'm sorry, Lorn. Unlike you, I'm good at following orders. No matter how much I despise them."

"Please?"

Coodi finally turns to me. Her eyes, usually lined in thick black kohl, are running with streaky streams over her cheeks. I couldn't see her tears through the helmet, but the black rivulets are a dead giveaway.

"Coodi. Stay."

"Hayomo's orders."

"And that old bitch scares the crackers out of me. Specialist Coodi? Let's be on our way." He looks down at me. "Stay off your feet. Rest. Allow your body this one chance to sleep and slow down. This may be the best thing that has ever happened to you."

"I severely doubt that."

"Hm, yes." He checks around the room as if realizing he was in a room for the first time. "Well, I believe you're right. This is incomprehensibly drab. Good luck then, love. I will return shortly."

The wall opens for them and they slip out. Before they have a second to turn and wave goodbye, the sand cascades like a curtain and shields them from view. Again, enshrouded in the darkness, the Xani and I wait. We settle into our silence and hope that the next hour moves quicker than the last.

At least that's what I'm thinking. I have no idea what's going on in his jello cap.

I wish I had Dean's book. Even Brave New World might provide entertainment.

I laugh alone in the dark.