(Human Form)
Sometimes, it was amazing how the whole world could simply get up and move on, as if completely oblivious to the problems of others. Vega stared out of the tapcaf window, watching, but not really seeing, the people who walked by just beyond arms reach, completely engrossed in their own lives. Her elbow rested on the table, her chin propped up on her hand as she gazed out, gold eyes distant. A tiny object attached to a silver chain around her neck sparkled in the sunlight as it twirled between her fingers, throwing a delicate spray of red glitter on her hand and the clean, unblemished manila folder on the table, speckling it with bright specks of ruby. Next to it sat a comlink and a cup of caf that had barely been touched, both silent, the perfect image of indifference.
Vega had thought that there was nothing in the world that could surprise her…not after what she’d been through, all those years ago, but it seemed that she’d been well and truly proven wrong today. She still hadn’t gotten over the shock yet: she had the feeling that it would be a very long time before she came to terms with it...if she ever did. And to think, she’d come to believe that everything had gone back to normal, the way it had been…the way it was…they way it would always be. Yet, here she was, in the very last situation she’d ever have imagined herself possibly getting into. She was still wearing the ‘smart’ outfit that she’d had on this morning for her interview; a white blouse with black dress pants, her long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail that cascaded down her back. She could still remember that meeting, branded freshly into her memory with startling clarity. If she had known that what she was walking into would completely transform life as she knew it…
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The room was spick-and-span, spotlessly clean. There were very few objects that broke the empty whiteness of the walls: a desk, with a few pieces of stationary and a neat stack of papers laid out on its glossy mahogany surface, a leather chair, a bookcase filled with large, ancient-looking tomes, and one wall covered in official-looking, brass-mounted plaques that all read the same name with variations on a common theme beneath. The room had an almost…surgical feel to it. Then again, that would make sense: she was in a hospital, after all.
”Ah yes, you must be Ms. Syrena Moraes. Please, do come in and take a seat.”
The chair swiveled around to reveal a stoic-looking man, probably in his mid-50s, dressed in a grey business suit and tie and wearing an amiable, if distant, smile. So, this was Dr. Windsor, the chief surgeon and head honcho here at the hospital. As for her, she was Syrena Moraes, a young nurse seeking a position at the institution. Like anyone with half a brain, she never used her real name. All they needed to know was the fact that she could work, and where to send her paycheck.
”Your resume was very impressive, very impressive indeed, Ms. Moraes.” He nodded sagaciously for emphasis, his demeanor grave, down-to-business. ”Your skills are definitely ones that we can put to good use here.” Here he paused, studying her for a moment, as if weighing her up. There was something in his gaze though, that told Vega that what he saw was not necessarily what he had been expecting to see…whatever that might have been. Nonetheless, he maintained an unperturbed demeanor, his expression still pleasant as he addressed her. ”There is one slight problem though…” He leafed through the papers on the desk in front of him, pulling one out and laying it on top of the pile as he perused it carefully. ”It appears that you did not indicate your pregnancy here on your application. I’m afraid we cannot hire you, as your condition may interfere with your ability to work.” Vega didn’t even hear the second half of his statement: her mind had frozen stock still at the single weighted word in his sentence. ”My what?” Certainly she must have heard him wrong. Of all things, there was no possible way that he’d meant what she thought she’d heard. But she could have sworn that she’d heard…
”Your pregnancy, miss.” There was a slight furrow in his brow as he regarded her with a judgmental gaze, the faintest hint of worry in his serene tone of voice. ”You were aware of the fact that you’re with child…right?” The uncertainty in his voice was evident. Vega only gaped at him in shock, her protesting mind still asserting that there was no possible, earthly way she could be, of all things, pregnant. How could there even be the slightest chance? It wasn’t as if…
Oh.
Suddenly, something in her mind clicked. She blinked, still shell-shocked as she stared at the doctor, trying to convince herself that this was a mistake, that it was all a bad joke. There was a long pause before she managed to kick her brain back into action and find her voice, although it didn’t seem to be functioning quite right. ”How…?”
”From what I can tell, you’re likely in the mid-to-late stage of your first trimester. Around two or three months.”
Her vocal cords suddenly kicked back in again. ”That couldn’t be possible,” she snapped, more of an attempt to convince herself of what she was saying than contradicting the doctor.
”Well, miss, in the past few months, have you…?”
”I get the idea, thanks.”
A pause.
”If you’d like, we could run a few tests, and…”
---
”Are you alright, miss?”
Vega snapped out of her trance, glancing over to see the tapcaf waitress standing at the next table over, wiping it down with a wet cloth, but whose eyes were fixed upon her. Was she alright, the woman asked? No. Far from it. She’d just found out that she was pregnant, for crying out loud. She wasn’t mothering material, there was no way that she could possibly raise children. She’d tried the whole ‘caring for others’ thing once before, and the lasting aftereffects that the consequences had left still bore their marks on her conscience.
But the waitress had asked her if she was alright, and she couldn’t leave her hanging…or tell her the truth. So, she fell back on the age-old phrase that simply asked her politely to ‘buzz off’.
”Yeah. I’m fine, thanks.”
The woman gave her a searching look, but it wasn’t her place to barge in on other peoples’ business, so she went about her way, leaving Vega alone once again with her thoughts. The young woman sighed lightly, glancing down at the folder and the silent comlink next to it. She’d agonized over her situation for a good few hours before she’d finally picked up the comlink and entered the code. It wasn’t one that she’d thought she’d be using…at least, not this soon. When Vidown had picked up, she’d simply told him that she needed to talk to him and had given him her location. Explanations would have to wait for later. Whether he protested or not, she wasn’t sure…she’d killed the link as soon as she’d given him her message: she didn’t think that she was ready to talk to him. Not yet.
Once again, her gaze wandered out onto the street, watching the stream of bodies flow by like an unstoppable current. The dance of scarlet drops of light commenced once more as she rolled the bright crystal between her fingers, her eyes lost in the distance.