do but lend her further support?
âIf Star wants my company, Iâll grant it,â she concluded aloud.
It was promptly accomplished. Star simply moved back to the bunker where she had once lived. The neighbors already knew her, though they confessed to thinking of Aliena when they saw her. She curtailed her global travels, on the valid pretext of her pregnancy. Gloaming also stopped his, because of Lida. Thus the bunker became the grand central base for the starfish.
They did practice community relations. Both Gloaming and Star attended the local nondenominational church and sang both solos and in the choir, not displacing anyone else; it was strictly supportive. The two women went shopping together, and Lida was surprised to receive almost as much attention as Star did, perhaps being considered more approachable. She subtly guided Star, as she did Gloaming, in the nuances of human social interaction, so that the starfish generally made a good impression in the little ways, apart from being world famous. Sam and Martha were always nearby, along with other guards, and no crazy ever got close to the starfish or their companions. They got along, in part because Lida was now experienced in relating to starfish, and Star genuinely appreciated the guidance.
And Star was lonely. She was the center of global attention, one of the worldâs most beautiful women, respected by almost all people, with enormous power at her beck and call. She had a husband who loved her. But she was the only starfish in woman form. She had come from another planet and parked her own body to become the brain of an alien host, and had assumed a highly public role. She needed a kindred soul, and Lida, married to a starfish and similarly pregnant from a cross-marriage, was it. Lida could be trusted, and she understood. What could she do but provide that companionship? The story of the millennium was the compatible contact between two completely different sapient species, but beneath it was the simple need of one person for a friend. Empathy came hard to starfish, but Lida had it in abundance, and it bound her to Star.
Their next visit to the space station was together, along with Maple, leaving the husbands behind. The starfish robots were as interested in their pregnancies as the human media were, perhaps for a different reason: they wanted to be sure that there would be no defects in the babies. In Starâs case, that there was no triggering of the immune response that had taken Aliena out. Aliena herself was pleased; Maple was hers, and she wanted Star to have her own. Quincy, knowing that Lidaâs child was genetically his, was completely supportive.
Time passed, and the babies were due. Lida bore hers first, by a few hours, and named him Quill, as close as she cared to come to Quincy. Starâs was a girl she let the Smythes name, as she was their granddaughter by blood and Mapleâs little sister. They chose Bliss. The news media went into a frenzy of discussion, pictures, and speculation, as if the children were royal. Would they grow up to marry and found a new dynasty? When the two women went out for a public walk with matching prams, one baby in blue, the other in pink, it was as if a new world had been created.
Lida thought this was a lot of foolishness. But she realized that she was satisfied with it. She finally had what she had wanted at the outset: a loving husband, friends, and a child. Only the details differed from her expectations.
Part 2
Alien Host
Quincy woke somewhat blearily. Was it another immune attack? It felt different, but no less strange. Then he remembered: he had volunteered to exchange bodies with an alien creature, because the alternative was death. Lida had agreed, for his sake, though it meant that she would have to be married to the alien. He did not care to dwell on that aspect.
So he had been taken to the local hospital. He had signed the necessary papers. He had been drugged unconscious.
âIf Star wants my company, Iâll grant it,â she concluded aloud.
It was promptly accomplished. Star simply moved back to the bunker where she had once lived. The neighbors already knew her, though they confessed to thinking of Aliena when they saw her. She curtailed her global travels, on the valid pretext of her pregnancy. Gloaming also stopped his, because of Lida. Thus the bunker became the grand central base for the starfish.
They did practice community relations. Both Gloaming and Star attended the local nondenominational church and sang both solos and in the choir, not displacing anyone else; it was strictly supportive. The two women went shopping together, and Lida was surprised to receive almost as much attention as Star did, perhaps being considered more approachable. She subtly guided Star, as she did Gloaming, in the nuances of human social interaction, so that the starfish generally made a good impression in the little ways, apart from being world famous. Sam and Martha were always nearby, along with other guards, and no crazy ever got close to the starfish or their companions. They got along, in part because Lida was now experienced in relating to starfish, and Star genuinely appreciated the guidance.
And Star was lonely. She was the center of global attention, one of the worldâs most beautiful women, respected by almost all people, with enormous power at her beck and call. She had a husband who loved her. But she was the only starfish in woman form. She had come from another planet and parked her own body to become the brain of an alien host, and had assumed a highly public role. She needed a kindred soul, and Lida, married to a starfish and similarly pregnant from a cross-marriage, was it. Lida could be trusted, and she understood. What could she do but provide that companionship? The story of the millennium was the compatible contact between two completely different sapient species, but beneath it was the simple need of one person for a friend. Empathy came hard to starfish, but Lida had it in abundance, and it bound her to Star.
Their next visit to the space station was together, along with Maple, leaving the husbands behind. The starfish robots were as interested in their pregnancies as the human media were, perhaps for a different reason: they wanted to be sure that there would be no defects in the babies. In Starâs case, that there was no triggering of the immune response that had taken Aliena out. Aliena herself was pleased; Maple was hers, and she wanted Star to have her own. Quincy, knowing that Lidaâs child was genetically his, was completely supportive.
Time passed, and the babies were due. Lida bore hers first, by a few hours, and named him Quill, as close as she cared to come to Quincy. Starâs was a girl she let the Smythes name, as she was their granddaughter by blood and Mapleâs little sister. They chose Bliss. The news media went into a frenzy of discussion, pictures, and speculation, as if the children were royal. Would they grow up to marry and found a new dynasty? When the two women went out for a public walk with matching prams, one baby in blue, the other in pink, it was as if a new world had been created.
Lida thought this was a lot of foolishness. But she realized that she was satisfied with it. She finally had what she had wanted at the outset: a loving husband, friends, and a child. Only the details differed from her expectations.
Part 2
Alien Host
Quincy woke somewhat blearily. Was it another immune attack? It felt different, but no less strange. Then he remembered: he had volunteered to exchange bodies with an alien creature, because the alternative was death. Lida had agreed, for his sake, though it meant that she would have to be married to the alien. He did not care to dwell on that aspect.
So he had been taken to the local hospital. He had signed the necessary papers. He had been drugged unconscious.
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