Chapter 28/?
"Gata," a blessedly familiar voice, her husband's voice breaks through her panic. "Gata, you must calm yourself."
Though she has difficulty seeing him in all the brightness, she feels one of his hands against her cheek, and the other slipping into one of hers. His touch steadies her instantly, soothing her soul – she would recognize it even in the deepest level of darkness. She clings to the sound of his voice, the warmth of it and the distinct lack of panic. The last time she heard his voice, it was flooded with the emotion as she surrendered to the darkness, expecting to awaken in Rao's Light.
'Is this Celestia?' she wonders, her voice not quite ready to express such questions. 'Had her Trel somehow preceded her into the afterlife and arrived early enough to greet her?' That doesn't sound quite right. 'What of their son?' Her mind now races with questions and terrifying worries. Gata grips tightly at Trel's hand in hers, fiercely, as through her grip tethers her to the cliff's edge.
"My love?" she croaks, her throat dry and cracking from lack of use. Gata searches the fog and brightness for him but finds nothing, only the grip of his hand and comfort of his voice. "Where are you?" she begs, her breath coming in rapid bursts as panic threatens to overtake her. "I can't see you."
A cool, dry hand rests on her face, not warm like her husband's. Not firm like her husband's. Gata shies away from it.
"It's all right, my love. This is Al-Ex; a Physic of great talent, I'm told. She will not harm you." Trusting her husband's judgement, she remains still for the Physic's examination.
"I'm just going to check you pupiliary response, Gata. Is it alright if I call you Gata?"
Gata consents with a nod of her head. It's been ages since anyone other than her mate has called her by her given name. It is a welcome change from the treatment that came with the being the daughter of a High Council Elder, and then later the honorifics heaped upon her as the wife of the Prince Regent of Daxam.
"Pupils are fixed and dilated…and non-reactive to light," the healer determines, threads of disappointment woven into her voice.
Before Gata can react, the small hand on her cheek is replaced with Trel's, his knuckles brushing along her cheekbone. "You're all right," he promises. "I put you into stasis until we could get you medical assistance. Do you understand?"
Sensing his need for a verbal response she nods slowly and replies, "I understand. Stasis blindness?"
"Stasis blindness?" the woman's voice queries. The physic sounds confused, as though never having heard of such a concept.
"The blindness is a rare side effect of the stasis chems," Trel explains. "It only happens in about one in five thousand cases." His words are for Al-Ex, but he directs them at his wife, unwilling to leave her alone in the darkness he forced upon her.
"Is it permanent?" the healer asks.
Unhappy with remaining a blind observer in her own situation, Gata answers the woman's queries before her husband can. "It's only permanent in the rarest of cases. Usually in patients with already compromised vision. Suddenly it all rushes back to her, the fight for her life in Lure's Clearing, the desperate begging for her own life and that of her child, and then, finally, the shock and horror as her attacker's blade slid into her belly, the cold fire of false, unearned rightenousness in his eyes. Her hands grip at her belly, relieved to find the ungainly protuberance still there. "Our son?"
"Still lives," Trel hastens to comfort her. "Rao has delivered us to safety, and Al-Ex assures me that our son's heartbeat is strong."
"How?" she demands, her eyes staring blankly into the white light. "How is that possible? My wounds must have been mortal, to both me and our son. There was so much…blood."
"Are you not the one that promises that Rao makes all things possible for those who seek his Path?"
"Tell me," she insists, in a tone of one unaccustomed to the denial of her desires.
"A Kryptonian spy named Haru caught wind of the Triniatarian plot to kill you and Daxam's scion. Ever loyal to you, she risked exposing her mission to warn you…but arrived too late to stop the attack. She was able to provide you with a stasis gem, in hopes that we could buy enough time to get you medical assistance. Haru…hid us away until she was able to facilitate our escape from Daxam."
"And what was her mission?"
Trel reveals to her the existence of the Aether, a Daxamite secret of the highest classification, and Haru's assignment from the Kryptonian Military Guild to steal the technology for purposes unknown. He skirts around the edges of the hardest truths, watching first to see how she accepts the easier ones. Purposefully, he sticks to the story of Haru's scheme to take refuge in the Aether until rescued by the Kryptonian military or the Science Guild.
"But this isn't Krypton," Gata concludes, after Trel breaks down Haru's plan to rescue them from the Aether after Krypton had a chance to build its own projector. Even blind as a newborn fennick, she feels that this place isn't her homeworld. The sounds, the smells and the way the staff around her speak give away the game. "Where are we?"
Trel swallows before answering. "On a planet called Earth. In the Sol system."
Gata allows his words to sink in, the shock of this revelation taking her breath away. Another solar system? Decades ago, Krypton first employed superluminal space flight to explore, and in some cases to terraform and settle outposts on the edges of their own system, but to her knowledge they had never traveled into other systems. They were only just beginning to theorize what that might mean, what they might encounter, and how such action could benefit or even harm them.
"How is this possible?" she wonders. "A stasis gem only lasts a…fraction of one day. Not nearly enough time to traverse the galaxy, even at superluminal speeds."
"The Aether is a place that exists outside of our normal space-time," he explains. "So, our stay there extended the length on your stasis gem for…longer than normal. But something went wrong with the plan."
"Went wrong?"
"It must have done. Haru must have been killed by the usurpers after helping us escape or been somehow unable to return to Krypton. When the Kryptonian Science Guild found their way into the Aether, they began using it as a prison, sentencing their criminals to languish there. Haru never came for us, and I was never able to get close enough to the gatekeeper to explain that I…we…didn't belong there. Not until the people of Earth came for us. They learned of the coup and came to our rescue," he told her, in the simplest of terms.
Listening to her husband's story, Gata shakes her head, resolutely. How entrenched must the Trinitarians have become now, how fortified against any restoration of her husband's power? "Your father?" she asks.
"Dead. Allic, as well."
"Allic," she sighs, her throat tightening and tears springing to her blinded eyes. He was a child and a kind-hearted soul. While others had looked at her with suspicion and barely concealed disdain at her entrance into Daxam's Royal family, Allic had immediately welcomed her with an open heart. Trel and Allic's mother had died before Allic even learned to walk, and so he quickly latched onto Gata as a mother figure.
His death will not go unanswered, she decides.
"We must return," she insists, hauling her upper body into a sitting position. "To establish our son as the rightful ruler of Daxam when his time comes. We must not allow the Trinitarians to tear down all that we've worked for – to give in to their barbarous, deceitful tactics."
"My love—"
"Hasn't it always been your philosophy that the best change comes slowly, because it comes with acceptance? Acceptance and surrender aren't the same thing. You taught me that. I cannot bear to think what life the Trinitarians will force upon the people of Daxam – our people – if this insurrection is allowed to continue."
Trel smiles – a sad, small orphan of a smile that she can't see. "This is the first time you've referred to the people of Daxam as our people."
Gata licks her lips, one hand rubbing the side of her protruding belly, just where she was stabbed. "Well…I guess when you consider that I almost died for them, it's hard not to think of them as mine now, too." Sitting up fully, she throws off the thin blanket covering her and hauls her legs over the edge of the bed. "Which is why we cannot rest until these murderous rebels stand before the Judicious Eminent and face their verdict."
Trel can do little more than to watch in shock as his determined, tenacious wife levers her oversized body from the infirmary bed, afraid that attempting to belay her would only shift her ire in his direction. Shamefully, he is quite comfortable with the current direction of her ire, until her knees buckle beneath her weight and he's forced to lend her support. In his haste to render aid, he forgets the vast lack of parity in their strength levels when his arms embrace her.
It takes her breath away, the crush of his arms, his hands digging into her back, pressing her body against his like a vise holding her in place. Gata gasps for a breath, a chore already made difficult for the full-term fetus taking up most of the space her fully extended lungs should be allowed. "Trel!" she gasps, her voice hardly audible.
Immediately, his grip around her loosens, though he doesn't let go of her completely. Without taking the full weight of her, he manages still to become her balance. "I'm sorry, my darling. I didn't mean to hold you quite so hard. Are you all right? Did I hurt you?"
Catching her breath, to the best of her limited ability, she nods. "I didn't mean to frighten you to the point of such…force." Unable to see, her grasping hands and body against his quickly registers the stark difference in his once robust frame, and her mind is unable to reconcile such strength with the frailness beneath her fingertips. Bony shoulders, protruding collarbones, thin arms and a chest that is far more sunken than her most recent memories. "I don't understand," she frets. "What happened to you?"
"I look a fright, it's true," Trel confesses. "Though much better than when Al-Ex and I first met. She promises that I'll be back to normal in no time. And who knows? You might even prefer my trim new physique."
"Not likely," she replies, worrying her lower lip between her teeth, a deep furrow crinkling between her brows. "It feels like hugging a bag of bones."
"I'll heal."
"And bathe," she adds. "You smell terrible and…what are you wearing?" Beneath her fingers she can feel only the thin layers of threadbare rags, and not the rich quality of clothing she is accustomed to her husband wearing.
"We've only just arrived," he excuses. "There hasn't been time for such niceties. Only time to be concerned for my wife's health."
Gata makes an effort, and a point, of gathering her strength and shifting her weight back onto her own legs. "Well…your wife is fine now and would very much appreciate it if you would take the time to take care of yourself."
"You always seem to know best, my love," he chuckles. "I would be happy to avail myself our new friend's hospitality, just as soon as you are settled back in where you belong. Are we in agreement?"
"I will agree to anything if it means getting that smell out of my nose." Gata allows her husband to help her back upon the bed, surprised that, for his slightness, he seems much more capable of lifting her bulk than before. Mentally, she's keeping track of all the details of their story that don't add up, and she adds this one to the list.
Trel turns to Al-Ex and suggests, "Perhaps one of your servants can escort me to your grooming facilities, and provide a change of clothes, if it's not too much—"
Before Trel can indulge Gata's wishes, she's wracked with a pain that sends fire racing through ever part of her. What little breath that remains in her lungs escapes in a low groan as she rolls to her side, her interest in the discrepancies in her husband's tale all but forgotten. "Rao," she wheezes, unable to catch her breath. "Something's wrong."
Through the torrent of pain, she's aware of people rushing about, words shouted and spoken but that carry little meaning beyond her barrier of torment. With her mate's blessing, she grips Trel's larger hand with all of her strength. She can hear only his voice as he encourages her to breathe, never once complaining about her crushing his fingers. Slowly, the pain subsides and she's finally able to breathe again.
"What's wrong?" she asks, when her breath evens out.
"Nothing's wrong," Alex replies, her voice far too pleased for Gata's liking, at the moment. "Your last contraction coincided with your waking, so it might have gone mostly unnoticed in all the confusion. But the fetal monitor recorded the frequency at four minutes. You're in active labor now, Gata. What you're experiencing is perfectly normal," she reassures.
"I don't understand," Gata manages, silently praying for the pain to stop. Rao hears her prayer, and the pain eases up, slowly dissipating until it's manageable.
"Did no one explain labor to you?" Alex asks, her eyes casting back and forth between her patients.
Trel shakes his head. "Daxam transitioned to birthing matrices many generations ago in an effort to create a heathier, hardier people. The Physician Eminent was studying what few physical records remained from the time before, but several hundred revs old. Qubigital records on natural births were stored in a crystal construct accessible only through the Daxcess."
"They were stored in orbit, he means to say," Gata adds. "In a satellite – which Kryptonian forces destroyed during the War of Aggression."
"Revs before I was even born."
"The Physician Eminent of Daxam was doing his best to learn what he could before the scion arrived, even making secret back channel requests to Krypton's Science Guild for any information they might be able to provide. But she hadn't received the data packet yet when…last I heard." Gata deflates as the last of the pain seeps away.
"Well," Alex sighs, "we have enough information from Kryptonian data crystals, to know that Kryptonian gestation and delivery is similar to humans…Terrans," she corrects, diplomatically.
"You have access to the data packet from the Science Guild?"
Alex shares a panicked look with Trel. "Uh…no. Not exactly. Krypton had a natural birth some thirty-five years ago. Since the father was an esteemed member of the Science Guild, the pregnancy was well-documented."
"Who was this member of the Science Guild?" Gata interrogates, her voice laced with suspicion. Something here isn't adding up. Even without her sight, she can sense the hesitation in the healer's responses, as though the information she's receiving is carefully edited.
Alex holds her breath, hoping the floor beneath her will open up and swallow her whole right about now. The floor does not oblige. "Uh…someone from…the House of El," she drawls, as if the answer is being dragged out of her.
"El?" Gata echoes, chuckling a little. "It figures. Those Kandorians love to buck the traditions. I've only met one El…Ter," she provides. "He was matched last year with my cousin, Charys. They seemed quite well suited at the time. Did he have a natural born sibling?"
"No," Alex replies, trying to modulate her pitch so that it doesn't go any higher than it already has. "This was a more…distant relation.
Something in this story stinks more than Trel's ratty outfit. Gata had been uncertain about Charys matching with Ter-El when she'd heard the news. Everyone knew that his sire, Val, while indeed a member of the Science Guild, was seen as more of a crackpot than an esteemed scientist. Though, getting his mate pregnant just so he could document her gestation seems like the kind of out-of-the-box thing he'd try.
"Anyway, back to labor and delivery," Alex redirects. "Your labor pains are about four minutes apart. We can expect them to grow in intensity and for the time between to shrink, as the cervix, the barrier between the womb and the birth canal, opens to make way for the baby. When I last examined you, while you were sleeping, you were dilated to seven centimeters. Unfortunately, that's already too late to start you on an anesthesia or pain blocker. So…you're doing this old school…as we say here. On Earth. It means…the old-fashioned way."
"So…that pain is just going to get worse?" she asks, incredulously.
"Ahem…uh…yes. There's no way around that."
"For how long?" Trel inquires. "How long will I have to watch her be in pain?"
"Hard to tell. Impossible really. Every baby's different and first babies…well…they tend to take longer. But the good news is that my mother says the moment they put that baby in your arms you forget all about that pain."
Gata leans forward, her abdominal muscles clamping down. "Oh…I find that very hard to believe!"
"My wife has an excellent memory," Trel points out.
"That's ahead of schedule," Alex rushes over.
"Is that bad, Al-Ex?" he asks.
"Uh…no! Not necessarily. Things are happening fast, so you might be meeting your son sooner rather than later."
"Arrrrrrgghhhhhh!" Gata screams, as the pain level continues to climb.
"Breathe, my love," Trel urges, himself trying not to panic.
"Yes, it will help control the pain. We find that screaming only exhausts the mother. Gata, focus on the feeling of your husband's hand in yours and breathe like this." Alex demonstrates by taking a deep breath and puffing it out in short bursts.
Gata sees little point to this breathing scheme but complies simply to stop people from shouting at her. She focuses on Trel's hand. The thin bony appendage that feels nothing like the strong, sure hands that once intertwined his fingers with hers. No matter how hard she grips, she hears no complaint from him, and even stranger, she can't feel the bones and muscle grinding in her grip. If anything, his hand is doing more damage to hers, as if she's gripping sharpened stone with all her might.
Something isn't right here. The story doesn't hold up. Is the man holding her hand really her husband? Is he even a man? Robbed of her eyes, she has only her senses of touch, smell and hearing to judge, all of which seem to be compromised. He sounds like Trel, but the voice is the easiest trait to replicate. Some alien species can shapeshift to some extent, though not perfectly, which might explain the difference in the way his body feels. And the smell! Perhaps a ruse to hide the fact that a person's unique scent is impossible to reproduce, especially to someone intimately familiar with them, as she is with her husband.
So, as the pain cycles down, Gata uses her most reliable remaining sense to get a more comprehensive lay of the land. She slips her hand out of the imposter's, under the guise of needing to rub her belly. For the first time since awaking, she notices the manacle on her wrist, confirming that she's a prisoner. Krypton uses such devices to keep accused lawbreakers on house arrest while awaiting trial. Surreptitiously, she uses her fingers to search for the keyhole or some other method of removal, her heart leaping when it stumbles on a hinge of some kind and a seam where the manacle opens.
This might be easier than she thought!
As if an answer to prayer, a subhealer delivers a surgical tray to Al-Ex, in case there's a need for something called a C-section. Do these 'Terrans' wish to dissect her, or worse, her son? The subhealer rolls a cart with the tray closer to the bed, within reach in case of immediate need. Convenient for her, as she is in immediate need of a weapon. With any luck there's a sharp implement or laser tool on the tray. She only needs to find a way to distract her 'husband' for a few moments.
Gata finds herself trapped between the impossible choices of needing to bide her time, and quickly running out of it. Practicing a meditative breathing she often used for prayer and deliberation, she surrenders her needs to Rao and almost immediately feels a sense of calm wash over her. When she opens her eyes, the bright white of her blindness is now bleeding with color, spreading across the canvas of her vision and slowly taking on shapes. Tactically, she mentions this to no one.
When her next contraction hits, she focuses on the colors and practices her meditative breathing, rather than method demonstrated by her captors. To her relief, finding strength in her faith also helps alleviate her pain. Or perhaps it's the understanding that she must escape this ordeal sooner rather than later that provides her with ironclad purposes.
Trel notices her calm handling of her pains and it fills him with a sense of pride. His wife is the strongest, brightest and most resilient person he's ever known. He should have expected that she'd find a way to take this challenge and overcome it in a way all her very own.
"I think I'm getting this under control," she lies, rigidly schooling her features to present an outward picture of what she hopes is tranquility. "I don't wish for our son's first meeting with his father to be marred by…," she stops to take a deep cleansing breath, "your horrible condition. I think I can…," another pang calls for another deep breath, "…manage on my own for the time being…while you bathe and change."
"Are you certain?"
"Quite…m-my love." Gata forms her mouth into a reasonable facsimile of a smile. Perfectly acceptable for one in pain, she analyzes.
"Al-Ex?" he asks, looking for an excuse not leave her. Despite her brave face, he can see the pain beneath it al that she attempts to conceal. And the thought of her in pain, without him, and in the dark…is untenable. Though certainly more for him than, it appears, for his courageous and independent wife. Unfortunately for him, Al-Ex offers him no help in his quest.
"Her labor is progressing quickly, but I think we can spare you long enough for you to get cleaned up." Alex sides with Gata, her nose crinkling delicately, "You'd be doing us all a favor, to be honest."
"Listen to the physic, Trel," Gata urges.
"I'll have a change of clothes sent to the showers, and if things look like they're progressing more quickly than expected, you'll be called right away. How's that?" Alex bargains.
Trel looks back and forth between the two women, the one he loves and the one he's trusting to take care of her. "Very well," he capitulates with as much regal grace as he can muster. "I've always endeavored to make you happy and shouldn't stop now. Not when we're this close to being a family. It shall be as you wish, my love." Trel leans down to place a kiss on her forehead and when he stands up Al-Ex is waiting to escort him to the door.
"Try not worry so much," she whispers, placing a comforting hand on his back. "Women have been doing this since the beginning of time. Usually without the men present." Outside of the room, she points to a man wearing all black standing near the door. "Agent Erickson, I'm going to escort our guest to the gym locker room and show him how the showers work." To the agent, she orders, "See if you can midnight requisition him a set of Class 2 BDUs and a pair of boots."
"Ma'am," Erickson nods.
"Any news on Supergirl and…uh…Valor?"
Trel's head spins when he hears the name. "Val-Or?"
"Uh…yes. It's Mon-El's code name," she explains. "For when he's out doing the superhero thing. It's another word for courage."
"On Daxam, it's the name of the moon where the gods reside."
"Oh," Alex intones. Interesting. The choice of names, one that must remind him of home and in his heritage, make much more sense on an emotional level. As Alex is quickly learning, now that she's paying attention, Mon-El tends to lead with his heart.
"Supergirl and Valor have returned from a highrise fire. No casualties and minor injuries only that are being treated at the scene. I believe they're debriefing the commander."
"Thank you. That'll be all, Agent. Trel…try not to worry."
"My dear Al-Ex, that is like asking the moons to eclipse one another."
"So, I'm guessing that's something that never happens."
"Indeed. My gratitude for your concern though, Al-Ex."
"You're very welcome." Agent Erickson heads in the opposite direction as Alex leads Trel Gand down the hall and around the corner.
Without Al-Ex in the room, there is but one Physic present, a Doctor Danvers, and two subhealers, none of whom seem to have their attentions focused on her at the moment. Another contraction overtakes her, and she breathes through it until the pain drops off and she's able to relax again. It's hard to tell how long the pains last when they're happening, but when she opens her eyes afterward, the room comes more sharply into focus, as if the pains are returning her sight to her.
The tray of instruments is too far to reach without drawing unnecessary attention, and so Gata formulates a plan. Throwing back the sheets, she heaves her bulk out of the bed, carefully sliding from the perch until her feet touch the floor.
"Ma'am?" one of the subhealers addresses her. She's young, female, with flame colored hair and close in height to Gata. Once armed, she's certain she can overcome the woman, assuming she is as she appears. "Ma'am, is there something I can get you?"
"I need to stand," Gata informs her. "Remaining stationary during these pains is not pleasant."
"But—"
"It's all right," Dr. Danvers interjects, coming over. "Standing during active labor can help speed the process."
The woman's voice is warm and kind, but so was that of the captor claiming to be her husband, and the one they call Al-Ex.
"I found it helpful to have my back massaged during contractions," Eliza Danvers tells the woman. "Perhaps you might find that comforting, as well."
"No," Gata shakes her head, placing her hands on the bed as though seeking support. "I prefer not to be touched."
"Fair enough," Eliza agrees. "I think every woman reaches that stage of labor." She walks over to the cardiotocograph and tears off a long strip of paper that reaches all the way to floor and then some, folding over itself several times. "Baby's heartrate looks steady," she announces. "I'm going to record this in the computer for your records. Don't hesitate to let me know if you need anything, or if any significant changes in your pain takes place."
With the Trel-imposter and the one they call Al-Ex out of the room, now is the time to act. With the exception of the hazy grey ring around her sight, her vision has all but returned. Nothing about the room tells her anything useful, except where the exit is located, but not what's beyond that. There are no windows to hint at her location, but the room is distinctly not Daxamite, nor Kryptonian. It feels… crude.
Furtively, glancing about to ensure that no one is looking directly at her, Gata steals a cutting tool from the surgical tray and palms it. She uses it to the jimmy loose the clasp on the perimeter tracking device on her wrist. Confirming that the device is now inert, the glowing stone in the center of the bracelet's setting fades to dark. With a little luck, no one in security notices. She hides the device in the folds of the bed's blankets.
This seemingly small victory imbues new strength in her. Though her pain doesn't leave her completely, the energies lost to battling it return with a vengeance and what's more, by Rao's miracle the greyness around the edges of her vision dissipates like frost disappears from glass when the heat rises. It's now or never, Gata realizes, while her body is on her side. Faking a contraction, she knocks over the surgical tray in a bid a distract and disarm her captors. It works a charm, sending one subhealer to her knees to start scooping up fallen implements as they skitter across the floor.
"Get another tray," Danvers tells the other subhealer, who departs the room with a nod through a second door behind them. Gata determines that the door behind them leads to a storage of some kind, and thus a dead end, while the door opposite leads to the larger complex and is more likely to provide an exit.
Adrenaline surging through her, Gata grabs the flame-haired subhealer on the floor and yanks the woman to her feet, surprised by her own strength. Gata brandishes her weapon, the tiny blade, sharp enough to slice through flesh, holding it beneath the woman's chin. The pulse ringing in Gata's ears, shifts into high gear.
"Gata!" Eliza Danvers' head snaps up, only a moment ago unaware of approaching danger. "I don't understand."
"This isn't right," Gata shouts at her. "Nothing about this is right!"
"Calm down, Gata." Eliza holds out her hands, hoping to appear as non-threatening and as unarmed as possible.
"I will not calm down," she maintains, as the woman in her grip whimpers pathetically. "What have you done with my husband?" Gata demands. "Did you kill him?"
"You sent him to bathe…remember?" Eliza reminds her, confused about what's transpiring, or what triggered it all. Her eyes dart quickly over to the wall behind her bank of computers, where there's a panic button that will bring backup, most importantly, her daughters.
"That thing was not my husband. You think I don't know my own husband? To whom do you pledge your loyalty? The Trinitarians?"
"I don't know who the Trinitarians are."
"Liar!" Gata shouts, gripping her hostage more tightly. She blinks wildly, casting glances about the room and expecting someone to attack from behind. Her vision has altered again, but this time instead of sharpening the images of everything around her, the room glitches as if she's looking at a mirage. Glancing back at the Doctor Danvers, Gata would swear that for a second she could see beyond and into the other woman's skin. Just for an instant. "What?" she gasps, shaking her head.
"Gata?" Eliza asks, noticing that her patient's distress has gone from pain to the appearance of instability. "Is your vision returning? Let me help you."
But Gata doesn't hear the doctor's plea. A flood of sound pours into her ears: hearts beating, machines beeping, heavy breathing, liquid pouring, metal clanking, and thousands of spoken words that string together without comprehension. "What…what did you do to me?"
Laboring women have been known to experience the kinds of adrenaline surges that can temporarily boost strength levels. Without it, many women might not survive the labor and delivery of their child, and many a husband has left a delivery room with broken fingers. But the nurse suspects the instant the much smaller woman pulls her to her feet as if she weighed no more than the scalpel used to threaten her, that the Kryptonian woman's inordinate extra strength might be attributable to more than a basic adrenaline rush. With a flick of her eyes, she confirms that the bracelet placed on her wrist to keep her unborn child safe, has been removed. Despite the threat to her own safety, the red-haired nurse risks opportunity to warn Dr. Danvers, saying only the words, "Blue-k."
Eliza's heart sinks into her chest as she too notices that the bracelet is gone, and nowhere to be seen. Talking down a frightened woman with a strength level comparable to her own is one thing, but her patient is unstable and too powerful to be physically overcome. But perhaps it's not too late to reason with her.
"Gata? Gata can you hear me?" Eliza recalls the early days when Kara first came to live with them. She theorized that, because of young age, her powers blossomed slowly over time, as they were triggered – just as Clark's had. But Gata is not only a full-grown woman, but one in the full bloom of labor and her hormones are likely triggering things inside of her that Eliza cannot begin to predict. Getting the blue kryptonite bracelet back on her wrist is paramount. "Focus on my voice," she instructs.
The voice of the woman named Danvers is louder than all the other noises and Gata flinches at the overwhelming sound. She must escape. Gata shoves her hostage towards the overwhelming voice, surprised at how the flame-haired woman flies across the room and collides heavily with the Doctor Danvers. Both women crumple to the ground, sliding across the room and crashing into a wall. Looking down, Gata finds the metal knife in her hands has broken into three pieces. What is happening? Is it designed to break apart easily for safety purposes? The sound of the dropped pieces bouncing on the ground rings in her ears.
While the healers lay stunned on the floor, Gata stumbles toward the exit, surprised to find the door unlocked and easily opened. In fact, the door pulls open so rapidly that the handle wedges itself firmly into the wall. The corridor appears empty, but its barren, utilitarian design provides no clues as to her best chances for escape. A cacophony of voices and other noises pounds in her ears making it difficult to think through her problem, impossible to find a solution to her current predicament. Gata stands frozen in the corridor hoping for Rao, who thusfar has provided for her needs, will continue to answer her prayers.
In the infirmary, Eliza struggles to remain conscious, having smacked her head quite violently against that of Nurse Fields. Reaching for the unconscious aide's neck, she checks quickly for a pulse out of instinct, even as her brain races to stitch together the shattered events of what just took place. Off balance, she manages to gain her feet and stumble over to the wall, one hand pressed to her temple, the pain pounding in her skull causing her vision to gray around the edges.
Eliza presses her palm against the large, red emergency button on the wall, and then immediately cups her hands over her ears as the klaxons begin to ring. "Kara," Eliza says, hoping her daughter, wherever she may be, will pick out her near whisper from the loud ring of the alarms and what other noises may obscure it. "Kara. She's escaped, and she's removed the bracelet. You have to find her. She believes this is a ruse." Eliza sinks into the arms of the other nurse, who heard the commotion from the storage room and came running. "There's no time to lose."
Three levels up, Kara and Mon-El have just wrapped up a debrief on the highrise fire and are leaving the conference room when the klaxons burst to life. For a moment, the sound threatens to throw the building into pandemonium, until commanders begin to call out orders and everyone falls back on their training. Stations are manned, weapons armed, and the technicians huddle around the computer terminals of the CIC searching for signs of intrusion.
On instinct, Kara blocks out the sounds of the roaring klaxons, pushing past their irritation to seek the existing threat, the possibility of it coming from within never occurring to her. She easily finds her mom's voice; a port in the storm raging all around them and absorbs her message.
When she turns to Mon-El, the expression on his face indicates that he is in receipt of the message as well, and that his strategically gifted mind already plots a solution. Meeting her eyes, he nods.
"I may have an idea, but you're going to need a distraction."