Author's Note- This idea has been running circles in my head for some time now, and it refuses to go away, so I'm going to put it down on paper and hope that shuts it up! enjoy!
Disclaimer- The fabulous Scott Westerfield owns every ounce of this fabulous set-up, but the characters are all my own!
In Pretty society, each Middle Pretty has only one child, every twelve years. They are incapable of handling more than one child at once, a fully welcome side effect of the bubblehead lesions, and a step along the road to end overcrowding.
But there is, of course, the issue of multiples. Each Middle Pretty is given a special pill to prevent more than one child from being conceived. But, as with most safety measures enforced by the City to keep the cancer that is man from once again poisoning the Earth, it does not always work one hundred percent.
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Beka Silverstream was pregnant. Her and Siam hadn't meant for it to happen, but it did.
"Okay," said the middle pretty technician, typing a few commands into the computer and smiling warmly at the young couple, "let's have a look at your baby."
She slid the sensor nimbly over Beka's bulging stomach, her warm eyes fixed on the monitor. "See," she said, pointing to a blotch on the monitor, "there's your baby's foot. And there's the head, and there's…" she trailed off, her eyes widening, her mouth forming a silent O.
"I'll be right back."
As the door closed behind the technician, Beka turned to Siam. "What do you think is the matter?" she asked, worried. Her forehead was creased with concern, and Siam did not like to see her that way.
"I'm sure it's just fine," he assured her, not a doubt in his mind, and her forehead smoothed, a smile playing over her full, perfect lips.
"Okay," said a man, entering the room. "Let's see what the problem is here." He walked over to the machine and picked up the sensor, gliding it over Beka's stomach just as the previous technician had done.
"Mmmmhhhmm." He mumbled, his forehead creasing. "Oh, dear."
"What?" asked Siam, straining to see the monitor, trying to make out the problem in the sea of blue botches on the screen. "What is it?"
"Miss," the technician said, sounding worried, "there's a little bit of a problem here. We're going to have to do some more tests."
At the look of panic on the young couples face, the technician smiled. It was just a little too bright, a little too forced. "There's nothing to worry about," he assured them, and they smiled too, relieved.
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The ultrasound technician ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. It couldn't be true. He was sure they had eliminated this possibility.
His footsteps echoed off the linoleum floor, resounding throughout the nearly empty building.
He reached the end of the hallway and pressed a button on the elevator, Conference Room B. As the elevator descended, the man tried to think of other things. It was his wife's birthday tomorrow. He needed to get her a gift. The paint on the ceiling of the elevator was chipped. His shoe was undone.
He reached down to tie his shoe, just as the doors whooshed open. He strode down the hallway, and entered the Conference Room through an unmarked door.
"Bentley." Said one of the men sitting around the table. "Glad you could join us. What is the problem?"
"I just did an ultrasound," said the man. "I found something…unusual. I'm worried." Bentley eased himself into one of the swivel chairs bordering the conference table. The other men nodded, a sign for Bentley to continue.
"This woman," Bentley glanced at the file in his hand, "Beka Silverstream. I believe that she's expecting twins."
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Siam Silverstream moved his hand gentley over his wife's protruding stomach, marveling at the gentle kicking of their unborn child.
"Can you feel the baby?" Beka asked, giggling. Siam nodded wonderingly, and took Beka's small hand in his own, placing it lightly on her stomach. Her face lit up as she too felt the kicking.
"Siam, this is amazing," she sighed.
"I know," he replied, grinning, "totally bubbly!"
Beka struggled to sit up, and Siam grasped her hands, pulling her into sitting position. "I'm starving!" Beka cried, giggling. "This pregnancy stuff is so hunger-making!"
Siam helped her to her feet, and supported her as they walked into the kitchen, a study of stainless-steel and glass.
What would you like to eat? asked the kitchen.
"Marshmallows!" cried Beka. "And peanut-butter!"
Beka giggled at Siam's side-long glance, a high, trilling, careless sound. "I'm hungry! I'm eating for two, you know, although sometimes it feels like it must be more than that!"
Thay both laughed at the impossibility of her words. More than one baby. Ha!