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the room with wide, coal-colored eyes. "Mommy?"
Niobe smiled. She opened her arms. "C'mere, Yves."
They hugged, her son strong and healthy in her arms. She tried not to dwell on that. He felt the twinge through their bond, though, and said, "Look what I can do!"
He ran up the wall on two feet. She watched him dance upside down on the ceiling while the second egg hatched.
Yvette was tall and lithe - or would have been, were she of normal size - with waist-length auburn hair, sharp cheekbones, and almond-shaped eyes. Stunning.
Thanks, Momma. The girl kissed Niobe on the cheek, then settled in her lap. She smelled like summer rain.
"Mom!" Yves kept dancing overhead. He moved on to an Irish jig, complaining, "Mom, you're not LOOK-ing!"
"That's fantastic, kiddo! We should sign you up for Riverdance." Better yet, Niobe imagined, a trip to Ireland.
The third hatchling, Yectli, had pale, nearly translucent skin, a shock of white hair, and eyes like the wide, bright New Mexico sky. Albinism as a mild form of jokerism? The kid got off lucky.
"Better than that, even," he said, reading her thoughts. He swelled his chest and cocked a thumb at himself. "Watch what I can do."
Yectli turned toward the mirror and held his arms out. Ten little lightning bolts crackled from his fingertips to the mirror. Through the wall Niobe heard a crash, then somebody yelling for a fire extinguisher.
"I did it for you, Mom," said Yectli. "I zapped that camera good!"
The room smelled like ozone.
Drake was securely belted into a helicopter seat with a soldier on either side of him. This was so nuts it almost made him laugh, but he was too miserable for that. He wondered why he needed to go someplace else in the first place. The doctors and soldiers scared him, but he wasn't going to show it. And he wasn't going to let them make him cry.
The helicopter was flying over desert scrub and they were headed more or less toward the setting sun, so Drake figured they were headed west. They might be flying over Pyote. Hell, it could be New Mexico or Arizona for all Drake knew. Desert didn't look like much from the air. The soldiers spoke to each other every now and then in some kind of military talk that didn't make much sense to him, but most of the time they were quiet.
Drake was already tired when they took off, and by this point he could barely keep his eyes open. The seat hurt his butt, but the discomfort didn't keep him from sliding off into sleep. He couldn't tell when the dream started.
He was naked in the middle of a landscape covered with fires. His feet burned. His ass hurt. Even his nose and eyes hurt. The whoop-whoop-whoop of helicopter blades caught his attention and he began waving his arms. The chopper door opened and something silvery fell heavily to the scorched earth.
"Pick up the garment and put it on," boomed a voice. The helicopter settled to the ground, sending a cloud of dust into Drake's nose and eyes.
Coughing, Drake unfolded the silvery suit. It was like nothing he'd ever seen before, one-piece, but zippered everywhere, and he struggled to get his arms and legs inside. He was relieved to have something to cover himself with, but this was bulky and he'd sweat like a pig in it. There was a hood with dark plastic where his eyes would go, but Drake didn't pull it over his head.
A person dressed in a suit like the one Drake had just put on beckoned to him from an open door. Drake squinted and ducked down as he moved toward the helicopter
"Hey, kid. You okay?" The soldier on his right side was nudging Drake in the ribs.
Drake sat up straight, straining his belly against the confines of the safety belt. He was still having the dreams, even without the medication. Maybe there was still some left in his system. That must be it. "Yeah, I'm fine."
The helicopter slowed and descended rapidly. Drake craned his neck and peered through the window plate. The chopper was kicking up a bunch of sand around the small, asphalt landing area that was ringed with a few blinking lights. There were more soldiers, or guards of some kind, waiting when he stepped outside.
One of the soldiers from the helicopter held Drake aside while the other one talked to a uniformed man who'd been waiting for them. The man was young, Hispanic, and built