"You know, you go to school, you work hard, you fly a spaceship... then you end up shoveling horseshit for a living." Peet sighed dramatically and dragged the chair closer to Zana's bed. "If someone had told me I'd be a stablehand in the service of walking, talking apes, I'd have called the guys in the white suits for them. But here I am." He dropped an orange into her lap. "Here, brought you something. Tastes a bit better than the stuff that crusty old doctor forces you to drink all the time."
"That's so sweet of you," Zana murmured. "I'll eat it later, if you don't mind."
"Nah, 'course not." Peet plucked the orange from the bedcover and began to peel it. The sweet scent of citrus filled Zana's nose. "For later," the human said. "Ready to eat... ready when you are."
For now, Zana was content to inhale the fresh aroma of the fruit; she didn't think she could eat anything at all without throwing up. She turned her head to squint at Peet, who was still focused on peeling his orange. "You don't smell like horseshit," she whispered. That earned her a sideways glance and a quick smile.
"I washed up before I came here. I'm civilized, y'know?"
"No you're not," Zana murmured, smiling against her will. "You're a feral beast, but I like you that way."
"Feral, huh?" She heard him snort; her eyes were falling shut again.
Fighting against the drowsiness, she forced them open again. "So what's going on? Galen won't tell me anything." If he kept talking, perhaps she could stay awake a little bit longer. This constant weariness was beginning to worry her.
Peet shrugged and leaned over to put the peeled orange on her nightstand; he kept the rind, rubbing it between his fingers. "There's not much to tell, really. Galen has hired us out... I'm down at the stables, shoveling oats into one end of the horses, and shoveling the shit that comes out of the other end, and Al ended up with the women and old people to make baskets and stuff. Because of his leg, you see? Can't do any hard work anymore."
He paused for a moment, chewing his lip. "Al doesn't talk much, but I can't imagine he's taking it well. He's always been fit and, and active, and now he's suddenly being treated like a useless cripple... can't be easy for him."
"He'll get better," Zana whispered. "Kira said it, too, it just takes a long time for a nerve to heal. He needs to be patient."
Peet snorted and leaned back in the chair. "I think Al's done with being patient. He wants to go home so badly, it's like he's gonna explode any moment. He's getting all quiet and... and concentrated, you just know something's coming, something big."
Zana remembered how Alan had been when they had been searching for Peet; how he had exploded when they had tried to talk him out of his idea to go into the ruins to search for something to help him get home. If Peet regarded that incident as minor, she didn't want to know what a big outburst would look like. "What do you suggest we should do?"
Peet shook his head. "No idea. It's not as if any of us could get him home, right? Oh man, here I'm talking your ears off about Al, when it's you who's in pain! How are you anyway? How's your head?"
"I'm fine," Zana lied. "Just tired all the time."
"Yeah, you bumped your head pretty hard," Peet said, his eyes fixed on the orange peel in his hand. "Al is... is really sorry about that. He feels responsible... even if he didn't tell any of us to come with him."
"I'm not holding him responsible," Zana whispered. "It was my own decision to follow him into that city."
"That's... really decent of you, but I doubt it'll change anything for Al... or for Galen. Galen's really mad at him." He huffed a laugh. "He's even mad at me, by extension. Humans, eh? They're all the same." He sighed. "Can't really fault him for being angry, though. Guess Al would've been like this, too, if it had been his wife..."
"Galen will calm down again." She didn't really feel up to playing peacemaker right now. "As soon as I'm recovered, this episode will fade for him, too. We'll be up to our ears in another disaster by then, anyway."
"God, you're starting to sound as cynical as me. Must've been the blow to your head." Peet finally raised his gaze again, his dark eyes scanning her body as if he could detect her cuts and bruises through the bedspread. "What about the rest, by the way? Did you... did you bump your belly, too? Any pains or, I dunno, anything different than before, down there?"
The silence was suddenly thick and suffocating; Zana brushed her hands over the bedspread, over her belly. "I don't... I'm not sure," she said in a low voice. "The baby is... very quiet, since I woke up."
"Maybe... maybe it just needs some rest, too?" Peet suggested hesitantly.
"Yes. Maybe." And maybe she shouldn't talk about these things with a human, but in a way, it was easier to talk to them than to an ape; a human didn't judge. "But it should move at least a bit? At least some of the time? It just... I just don't feel it moving anymore at all!" She finally looked up at him and saw her own worry reflected in Peet's eyes.
"Have you told Galen, or that doctor?"
"No, I-" A sudden stab of pain made her eyes squeeze shut, and for a moment, she couldn't see, couldn't talk.
"What? What's wrong, Zana?" She heard the chair's legs scrape across the floor as Peet jumped up.
"Zana! Talk to me, girl!" Peet was hovering over her, grabbing her shoulders.
"Just a cramp," she gasped, when the pain subsided. "A, a cramp in my back..."
Then the next wave came, and this time, it wasn't just in the small of her back, but lanced into her thighs, and her belly, a sick, dragging pain that made her insides feel weak and hot.
It felt wrong.
"It... hurts..."
Peet was still grabbing her shoulders; his face was tense with worry. "Have you had this before?"
The next wave of cramps hit her with full force, and she could only shake her head.
"I think we should call the doctor..." Peet began, but she grabbed his wrists in sudden panic.
"No, not the doctor. Not the... Galen. Call Galen..."
Peet nodded. "Okay. Okay. I'm gonna get Galen here. Just... just don't panic. It's gonna be okay. He'll know what to do."
Zana froze, her breath trapped in her chest. Above her, Peet went pale. "Zana? Don't... what's wrong?"
"I think my water just broke," she whispered. There was something hot and wet spreading under her, soaking the mattress, soaking her nightgown.
Peet stared at her for a moment, then, before she could stop him, lifted the bedspread. She saw his nostrils flare at the sight; his face went from pale to gray. "Shit!"
He dropped the blanket. "I'll get Galen."
"Wait, what's..." But he had already bolted. Zana swallowed and threw the bedspread stared at the mattress, the nightgown, the blanket...
Everything was soaked with blood.
Galen tried not to look at what the midwife was doing between Zana's legs, which was difficult, because he had been seated at the headboard to hold Zana's hand, and was literally with his back against the wall. So he stared down at their intertwined fingers, knuckles white from the intensity of Zana's grasp, and stroked her arm with his free hand. Zana was staring up at the ceiling, trying very hard not to cry.
The room stank of blood. That was the other thing that was hard to ignore.
Finally, the old chimp straightened, drew the bedcover over Zana's legs, and walked to the water basin in the corner of the room to wash her hands. Her old, wrinkled face was unreadable when she came back to sit on the edge of the bed opposite of Galen. She put her hand on Zana's arm and spoke only to her:
"That baby in your belly isn't moving anymore."
Zana nodded. Galen could hear her swallow.
"That baby also doesn't have a heartbeat anymore."
Zana drew a long, wet breath. A sigh, a sob.
"That baby must go now, or it will take you with it into the spirit world."
Zana pulled her hand away from under the midwife's hand, and covered her eyes. She was sobbing now, through clenched teeth, still trying to suppress her anguish, trying to maintain her composure.
Galen wiped his own free hand over his eyes.
"You need to drink this tea, as much of it as you can, all the time would be best," he heard the midwife's voice. "So that your bleeding stops. And this one, you drink one cup every four hours, and during the night, every five hours. This one will make your womb pull together and push out the baby."
Galen took a deep breath and let his hand fall into his lap again to see what the old chimp had dropped on the nightstand. Two leather pouches, one of them red. "The... the red one is to push out the baby?" he asked hoarsely. Despite his misery, he was faintly curious which herbs she was using, but didn't dare to ask. The healers and midwives looked with distrust at the learned young doctors from the big City down south, and he didn't want to alienate her.
"No, that one is to stop the bleeding." She didn't come forward with an explanation of the ingredients.
"I'll make sure she drinks the tea," Galen promised. He rose and followed the healer to the door. "What if... if the bleeding doesn't stop?" he whispered.
"Then you have to call Doctor Lemar," the old woman murmured. "And he'll need to take out the bleeding womb. Otherwise your wife will die. She may still die from that surgery."
Galen jerked back. "But that... that would mean she'll never have another baby anymore!" Zana had kept her baby secret from him for months, because she was worried he'd demand an abortion. She had wanted this baby so much. She would never agree to this surgery.
He shook his head. "Oh, we... we won't do that. That... surgery. I'm, I'm sure it won't be necessary. You're a very knowledgeable healer, and I have complete faith in your skill."
The old woman looked at him with something like pity in her eyes. "Your wife looks as if she had been torn apart by wild animals. She is very lucky to be alive herself. But the damage to the child was too great."
"But the cuts over her belly weren't that deep," Galen wondered. It couldn't be true, it couldn't. "Not even the muscles were injured!"
"You told me that she had a fall, and that she probably fell on her belly," the old woman reminded him. "Something was torn inside, and that is what's bleeding so much. She can bleed to death on the inside, just as one can bleed out."
"I understood that," Galen said hastily, "and as much as it pains me to lose our child, I'm glad that I didn't lose Zana, too. But if she loses her... I mean... she'll never be able to have another child. And she loves children! She'll never be happy again!"
The midwife patted his arm gently, as she had done with Zana before. "Happiness is found in the spirit, not in other people. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. The Mothers will decide if she will have other babies in the future."
"Isn't... isn't there anything else you can do to save my wife?" Galen asked desperately. "I heard that some healers use needles, or burn incense..."
The chimp scrunched her nose. "I don't use needles. But Doctor Lemar does. Maybe you ask him about that." She hesitated, then added grudgingly, "He's quite good with them."
"I'll make sure to ask him right away," Galen promised. He'd try anything to save Zana's... Zana's happiness. For some reason, he was absolutely certain that if Zana had to undergo that surgery, she'd convince herself that he'd welcome her infertility, irrational as that conviction would be. Even after he had confronted her with the truth, she had accused him of pressuring her for an abortion, although he had never done such a thing.
He closed the door behind her and leaned his head against it for a moment, before he strode to the little tea oven to get more hot water for her tea.
"Don't say it," Zana ground out when he returned to her side to prepare her tea.
"Don't say what?" Galen repeated, puzzled.
"Don't say, 'I told you so'," Zana said, her voice thick with tears. "Don't tell me I should've stayed in the City, with your parents, that the baby could still be alive, and..."
Galen put the leather pouch down and sat down on the edge of her bed. "I'd never even think of blaming you for that, Zana!" He caressed her face. "And with the latest developments in the City, I don't know if you'd be that safe there now, either. All I want is for you to be safe. If anything, I'm blaming myself for being so reckless..."
"I don't regret coming with you! I don't regret being with you! I just regret going into that human city..." She took a shuddering breath, digging her fists into her eyes.
Galen dropped into the chair and buried his face in his hands. Something big and dark was moving under his anguish, something furious and implacable. He didn't dare to look at it; if he did, it would come rushing at him, into him, and when it was moving through him, there was no knowing what he would do.
"But Alan told us we could wait for him, it was my own decision, it was my fault..." Zana sobbed, and Galen felt the darkness hiss inside him, felt it flare up like a black flame.
Because it wasn't Zana's fault. It wasn't. It wasn't .
It was his own fault, for allowing a human to make the decisions for their group, for letting a human take the lead. What kind of insanity had possessed him to follow a human, instead of making it follow the ape?
And how predictable the results had been... Let Man lead, and it will lead you into the Wasteland. Man was the harbinger of death. The death of their baby.
Maybe even the death of Zana, too.