By Wakefield Mahon
The wall three feet away from Lilit exploded. She tucked the bundle in her arms under her cloak and surged forward. She jumped through the wormhole portal just as it closed.
She exited in a tropical oasis of some sort. Before she could take stock of her surroundings she collapsed from exhaustion.
She awoke with a strange garden with a tall gray-skinned man with large eyes in an oversized face kneeling over her with some sort of scanning device.
She tried to remember her elementary education. “Centaurian?”
“Oh good, you understand me. Are you a healer?”
“Physician, yes. My name is Mikal. You are going to be alright. You’re safe now.”
“Nothing will ever be alright again. I couldn’t do anything to save them. I stood by helplessly while the Siriusians systematically exterminated my people.”
“But you escaped. You made it here safely, that’s something. And you are a very fertile people.”
“Doesn’t matter, I’m the only one left. Well except for Havah.” She panicked, momentarily, looking around for the bundle she’d been carrying.
Mikal held her up. “She’s fine, I checked.” He completed Lilit’s scan. “So, you see, all hope is not lost.”
Tears fell as Lilit shook her head. “I don’t know about Centaurian physiology, but two female Terraxians cannot reseed a race.
“Perhaps this will ease your mind.” He showed Lilit the results. “Congratulations, it’s a boy.”
Her tears became tears of joy. “Oh my little piece of earth from Terrax. I will call you Adam.”