Serge was stenciling a chair rail of ferns around the guest room, which would soon become the baby's room, with the door closed. Marina Saunders, he'd stopped tormenting her with the wrong name, was meeting with Een in private for their monthly check-in. Procedure. Serge understood that now. There couldn't be any question of him constraining Een or influencing his answers in any way. For his part, Een enjoyed the visits, eager for the chance to practice his swiftly improving language skills. He even played host since he'd learned to make coffee and he insisted Serge always have small cakes on hand for human visitors.
The sudden wail from the front room made him drop the paintbrush on his foot and nearly stopped his heart. He ripped open the door and raced to the front of the house, nearly taking himself out on the corner at the end of the hall while Een called out in full operatic voice, "Serjeh! Serjeh!"
"What's wrong? What?" Serge pulled Een into his arms, glaring accusingly at Marina. Damn her, she just smiled at him. "Een! What's happened?"
Een pointed to Naim's nursery tank, singing rapid-fire Aalana words.
"Whoa, slow down." Serge stroked the faiina of Een's back, surprised that they were soft and settled. If Een was so upset, then why…? Oh. Oh. "Naim's hatching? Or bursting? Or whatever it is?"
He leaned close to the tank in time to see a long crack in the pod widen. A tiny hand forced its way out, a perfect little shoulder shoving against the pod to open it farther. Een clung to him, shivering, his silver eyes wide. The flow of words settled to a lovely crooning, perhaps a song of welcome or encouragement.
"Hey." Serge turned Een to get his full attention. "What do we do? Do we help?"
With an alarmed trill, Een took both of Serge's hands. "No. She must…come out. Without us. It is important. When she is out, we can lift her. Then she can be in air. With us. Without the…struggle, her stomas do not open. Not be ready for air."
"She? You're sure now?"
"Yes. The fingers, the lim are different." Een nodded to the tank where a beautiful round head with tiny vermicelli-sized lim waved and twitched. "She. Naim. Our Naim."
Serge hugged him tight, watching her emergence from the pod in rapt fascination though his sight kept blurring with tears.
"Congratulations, you two," Marina said softly, as if afraid to disturb the moment.
"Thank you," Een sang as the first leg kicked free of the cracked pod. When Naim shoved herself out, kicking the pod away from her, he lifted the lid from the tank. "Serjeh, now. Together."
Serge reached a hand in at the same time Een did, and together they lifted the tiny, perfect Aalana child from the water, her body barely big enough to cover their joined palms. She wriggled and kicked, opening her silver eyes to stare up at them and let out a clear, perfectly pitched triad cry. With her first sounds, Een was no longer the only Aalana voice on the planet, and with the government helping to gather information and the technical expertise from other resident aliens, perhaps more would join them some day.
Someday, too, the faceless enemy that had chased the Aalana across the stars might arrive, but the refugees had come to the right planet, one with experience in all things martial and destructive. Hell, humans had engaged each other in warfare throughout their entire history, almost as if they'd been practicing for this. Together, they would be prepared.
Naim kicked the heel of Serge's thumb and cried out again, yanking him back from his wandering thoughts.
"Welcome, little one. Our breath greets yours," Een sang softly. "We are your parents, Een and Serjeh."
She caught hold of Serge's thumb and clung on hard, her strength astounding. Serge leaned in to kiss her button nose and whisper, "Welcome." In the circle of Een's embrace, in the earnest regard of those newborn silver eyes, the universe became whole again.