Alien Proliferation

showed up—Jerry Tucker, Matt Hughes, and Chip Walker, three of my five flyboys. We were missing the female members of Airborne and their mates, I assumed because the girls had the brains to keep their men in their damn beds.
    My wellness was assured for the new arrivals, and now I had a stag party in the delivery room with me. None of them looked like they planned to leave. “Uh, guys? I love you all very much, and I’m really touched that you want to be in here to see the miracle of birth and all, but other than Jeff, if James wants to be here to give me someone else to scream at, that’s fine. But the rest of you? Clear the hell out before I go all Exorcist on you.”
    They stared at me. “But . . . you might need help,” Tim said finally.
    Tito looked around and seemed to notice the team in here for the first time. “What the hell are you all doing in here? Out! Now! Jeff stays. Period.”
    Reader shook his head. “Me too.”
    “Yeah, that’s fine.” Jeff stroked my hair. “But, everyone else, wait outside, handle the parents and family members.”
    “I don’t want any of them in here, not even my mother,” I added quickly. “Christopher, you’ll be the only one who can keep her out.”
    “Why don’t you want her?” He sounded confused.
    “Because I don’t want anyone jollying me up, telling me to be a big girl, sharing how it’s not as bad as their labor, or anything else.” Another labor pain hit and I yelled. All the guys backed up a step.
    “Out!” Jeff wasn’t bellowing, but his Commander voice was on full. The rest of the guys nodded and left.
    One of the Dazzlers dragged Jeff and Reader off to get washed up and into the scrubs and masks while another closed all the curtains in the room so I was no longer in a fishbowl. Tito was watching a machine near my stomach. “Contractions are about three minutes apart. That’s really fast to go from zero to this in less than thirty minutes.” He and the last Dazzler moved me into the stirrups and Tito took a look. “Jeff, James! Hurry up!” He looked up at me, from between my legs, which was a surreal moment for me. “You’re dilated to nine already. The baby’s coming fast.”
    “A-C babies do,” one of the Dazzlers said. I recognized her voice.
    “Emily?”
    “Yeah, Melanie’s getting the boys washed up.”
    “What are you two doing here? You’re science side.”
    She chuckled. “We’re doctors, too. We just like the science stuff more. But, under the circumstances, we wanted to be here with you.”
    The Dazzler on drapes duty came over. “I’m Camilla. I don’t think we’ve met officially, Commander.”
    I tried to say something polite back, but another labor pain hit, and I shrieked instead. Jeff and Reader were back and were installed at either side of me. I grabbed their hands and squeezed.
    “It’s okay, baby.” Jeff kissed my forehead. “I love you.”
    I usually did this same thing right before I slammed an adrenaline harpoon into his hearts, which I had to do often because when his empathic blocks were shot, or he was too past overexertion, he needed adrenaline or he’d die. It was horrible and agonizing for him. “I don’t need adrenaline, do I?”
    “No,” the third Dazzler said, and I recognized Melanie’s voice. “Just relax as much as you can, Kitty.” She and Emily were both massaging my legs. “Our babies come fast, because of the hyperspeed. It can be very hard on a human woman.”
    “Will it be hard on Lorraine and Claudia?” Melanie and Emily’s daughters, who were both due to deliver a few months from now.
    “No, they’re A-C. It’ll feel like normal delivery to them. Serene, too.” Speaking of our last Airborne member, who was right behind Lorraine and Claudia in our own Baby Olympics.
    Jeff’s hand tightened on mine. “How hard is it going to be on Kitty?”
    There was a pregnant pause, which I tried to find funny but could only manage ironic. “Ericka Gower did just fine,” Melanie said finally.
    “That you know of.” Jeff’s voice was crisp.
    “She had four kids,” I gasped out. “Clearly, she survived it.”
    “Contractions two minutes apart,” Tito said, sounding calm. “Dilated to nine and a half.”
    “At least it won’t be long and drawn out.”
    No one laughed. I got really nervous.
    Jeff stroked my head. “Try not to worry, baby.” Of course, he looked and sounded beyond worried, so I had a little trouble with the do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do