The next morning, while bleary-eyed from lack of sleep, Eryn tugged on her uniform. How could her pants be tighter than the day before? She’d gotten the zipper up; no way would she be able to fasten the button, and her swollen breasts, a cup size larger at barely three months ago tested the seams of her shirt. Standing in profile in front of her mirror, she sucked in her gut. But doing so made no difference. Already up a full uniform size, if she went back and requested another, they might suspect.

She’d have to go untucked to cover her gaping waistband and hope her big boobs didn’t pop a button on her shirt. Her shoulders slumped, and she sighed. Attempts to hide her bulging baby bump were pointless. Yet what choice did she have unless she wanted to confess all and immediately get stuck behind a desk?

Crossing to her closet, she rifled through her clothes until she found her oversized slicker. On the training field, the tent-like, shapeless garment would easily hide her wardrobe issue if the forecast for more rain held true. But what about the next day and the one after? Or today, during her class? While she stared into her closet full of clothes she couldn’t wear, she spied a summer cardigan, pulled it out, and held it up against herself. Although nothing was tolerable in this heat, the loose-woven, midnight-blue sweater would reach the tops of her thighs. If anyone questioned the nonregulation garment, she could use the air-conditioning which ran 24/7 as an excuse.

After putting it on and gauging the fit, she realized Lana had been right in one respect; she couldn’t go on this way. To conceal her rapidly expanding belly much longer would be impossible. But gazing at herself in the mirror forced her to consider how her pregnancy would impact her security assignment. Short term, it meant a dreaded desk job, the very idea making her brain numb from boredom already. After the baby came, as a single parent, her options became even more limited.

What should she do? Resign her commission? She’d been in the USIF for twelve years and didn’t know anything else.

Perhaps EPIC, the Earth-Primarian Integration Council, would be interested in taking her on full-time. Everyone knew they required help, and when interest increased in the program, the need would grow. Just getting off the ground, the fledgling integration program would last for years. She already worked with prospective mates in the evenings and on Saturdays, holding introductory classes and answering questions about Primaria, its people, and what space travel would be like.

She still found it hard to believe EPIC had approached her to be a counselor. At first, she’d refused, convinced she wasn’t the best representative after her less-than-positive experience. She’d reconsidered when rumors began to fly, most brought about by outrageous headlines in the tabloids which barely contained a shred of truth. So she’d stepped forward. Her people needed this alliance to work, which meant willing, eager females shouldn’t be scared off by erroneous information. It went a long way in fulfilling Odyssey’s original mission—finding a new home.

And they didn’t have time to waste. Only last week, a 6.3 quake had hit the New York area, the third of its magnitude since she’d returned home. The damage had been minimal, limited to shattered windows and things falling off walls, and any injuries had been minor. Folks called it a harbinger of the “big one,” believing they faced a devastating major quake which would cause extensive damage and loss of life in such a large, closed-in city.

For days, the entire Northeast had been sweltering in a heat wave. The 100 degree temperatures would be unusual in July or August, but unheard of in the middle of May. What’s more, in the aftermath of the torrential rains a few days earlier, several of the city streets had flooded, not just on the coast but downtown, too.

Experts predicted they didn’t have much time before things got so bad no place would be safe. She hoped the alliance with the Primarians had come soon enough.

Eryn cradled her burgeoning belly and for the hundredth time, posed the disturbing question plaguing her more than any other. What right did she have to bring an innocent into such a fucked-up situation and an even more fucked-up world?

Heaving a long-drawn-out sigh, she made her way out of her room and turned down the short hall to the living room. Grabbing her security badge from the high counter of the breakfast bar that divided the kitchen and main living area, she gazed out the large picture window on the far wall facing the street. Through layers of light-blue sheers—Lana’s favorite color and the same that covered the plush couch, accented the abundant toss pillows, and was liberally splashed throughout the apartment her roommate had painstakingly decorated—Eryn could see dark, pervasive gray clouds. Already, she could feel the weight of the air outside, thick with humidity. Not looking forward to yet another sticky, hot, draining day ahead, she forced herself to exit her apartment and go down the three flights of stairs. The instant she set foot out of the main doors, leaving the coolness of the climate-controlled interior, a wave of oppressive heat smacked her square in the face.

She felt like an idiot wearing a sweater. Worse, she’d be drenched with sweat by the time she reached the conference center two blocks away.

Grumbling to herself and hoping her deodorant didn’t let her down, she hadn’t gone more than half a block before it began to drizzle. Glaring up at the sky, she muttered, “Well, isn’t this shaping up to be a perfectly miserable day?”

Because of their work with EPIC, she and Lana had scored an apartment close to headquarters and the conference center where most of the integration events took place. A prime location on the base—not that it’d proved an advantage today. By the time she arrived, the twenty-five mate candidates she’d been scheduled to meet with had already gathered, eagerly awaiting her words of wisdom on how to catch and live with a Primarian mate.

If they knew their expert speaker had been a complete failure in her own attempt, they would have most likely stayed in bed.

But she put her cynicism and bitterness aside. These young women represented their hope for a future.

With fatigue dragging her pace, and the series of restless nights taking their toll, she decided Lana had something else right, darn her. She had to do something about her persistent nightmares and interrupted sleep.

Being Saturday, the clinic was closed. No help for it. She’d go on Monday, or better yet, on Tuesday.

Denial had worked well until now; she planned to let this same strategy ride as long as she could.

---

“Push it,” she called to the two new recruits bringing up the rear.

“Lag and get left behind, ladies.” She jogged in place, watching the stragglers climb the ropes of the twenty-foot vertical wall. She’d already done so and circled back to try to determine the problem.

One of the two, who needed to drop about fifteen extra pounds, was pouring with sweat and red-faced when she at last hauled herself over the top. The other, a small blonde, whose lack of upper body strength had become a real concern, got stuck halfway up, the same as she did every time.

“Dig, Simpson,” Eryn hollered. “Come on. The rest of the squad is enjoying an ice-cold beer and a burger while you and I are hanging out here in the mud.”

More like sludge after the previous day’s deluge. While the young woman struggled and gasped for air, her arms began to shake from the strain. Eryn knew at that point, today wouldn’t be the day she conquered the wall.

“Go around,” she ordered, when the young woman’s strength gave out and her hands slid several inches down the rope. “But you’re gonna have to figure this out soon.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Wheezing and red-faced, she dropped to the ground and, without meeting Eryn’s gaze, rounded the end.

With only one obstacle left, Eryn scaled the angled four-inch-wide piece of wood behind the cadet then crossed the same-width lateral board over a huge mud puddle and followed her down the other side to the finish line.

When they crossed it, Sergeant Terry Foster, who’d been waiting with a stopwatch, called out her abysmal time. “Damn, Simpson, my eighty-year-old grandmother can run this course faster than you.”

Snickers erupted at the young woman’s expense. Eryn would have put an end to them, but couldn’t, unusually winded and attempting to catch her breath by bending over with her hands on her knees.

“A final word, Chief?” Foster suggested.

Under normal circumstances, Eryn offered encouragement or a much-needed chewing out before dismissing them. Today, she waved it off.

“Squad, dis-missed,” she heard the sergeant call, followed by sighs of relief and a few whoops of jubilation echoing back as her squad left the course.

Eryn straightened, ready to get out of the muggy heat when, all of a sudden, she found herself flat on her back, staring up at the gray blanket of clouds that had persisted all day. Lying in the mud while rain drops hit her face, she tried to figure out how she’d gotten there.

“Chief Lockwood!” Sergeant Foster cried, racing to her side. “What happened? Are you ill?” She bent over and pressed the back of her hand against her cheek then moved it across her forehead. “You’re burning up but not sweating. Overheated most likely.” Sliding an arm beneath her neck, Terry brought a water bottle to Eryn’s mouth. “Drink, slowly.”

After taking a few sips, she looked up at a sea of concerned faces staring down at her. “I’m okay now,” she croaked through dry lips. She tried to sit up, except when she raised her head, the world started spinning again.

“You’re not okay, ma’am. Stay down,” Foster urged. “Heat exhaustion is a precursor to heat stroke. You need to get to medical. Haynes, Parker, bring a Jeep around.”

Just a few minutes passed until they lifted her into a hover Jeep they’d brought right to the edge of the course. Embarrassed, yet feeling like warmed-over crap, she let them help her get settled into the back. In a blink, they zipped her to the ER on the far side of the base.

---

“Dehydration from hyperthermia,” her doctor announced when she entered the curtained-off cubicle in the emergency room.

Once out of the suffocating humidity and heat, with a liter of IV fluids infusing into her arm, Eryn’s dizziness and nausea had quickly passed.

“I can go, then?” she asked, already swinging her legs over the side of the stretcher, ready to hop down and get out of there.

“Take it easy for the rest of the day, and when you get back to work, especially while training, frequent water and rest breaks are a must for you and your squad.” Pausing briefly in her swiping and tapping, the doctor glanced up from her tablet to add sternly, “That’s an order, Chief.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Eryn did well to contain her smile. A captain due to her physician status, Juna Foster stood five feet three and no more than one hundred ten pounds. She didn’t appear to be a threat. No one doubted, however, her seriousness when she gave an order. Woe be it to the unlucky soldier who wound up back in her care for not following one of her directives.

“Let’s talk about what else is going on with you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Is there anything else you want to talk with me about, Eryn? The weight gain, for example.”

“No.” She hopped down, pulling the gown together in back as she glanced around for her clothes. Seeing them neatly folded on a chair in the corner, she headed that way.

Not easily put off, Juna persisted.

“Twelve pounds in a month, Eryn. Prior to this, you’ve been one hundred and fifty pounds, give or take a pound or two, for ten years.”

Shrugging, she stepped into her pants, pulling them up while still wearing the hospital gown. “What can I say? I’ve been enjoying what I missed while away. Forgive me if I have a thing for Italian…fettucine chicken Alfredo, double cheese and pepperoni pizza—New York style, of course—lasagna, with ricotta mind you, not mozzarella or the god-awful cottage cheese some people use. And I’ve developed a fondness for Sicilian cheesecake.” She reached back and patted her backside. “Goes right here. Thanks for pointing it out, though. I’ll try to get it under control.”

Juna scrutinized her, making her feel like a lab rat or a blood smear on a slide under her super-powered microscope.

“I’m feeling better. Is that all, Doc?”

“Yes, but you need to take it easy the rest of today.”

Before she changed her mind or asked more probing questions, Eryn moved to the chair in the corner where she’d left her clothes. Facing away from the observant doctor, she began dressing.

Thankfully, the door opened and closed behind her and, after a quick glance over her shoulder to make certain she had gone, Eryn collapsed onto the chair. She’d had a chance to discuss her real problem, but couldn’t. She wasn’t ready. Still early in her pregnancy, she had plenty of time. She’d call the clinic next week and schedule a prenatal appointment. And she’d ask for someone other than Juna, who would be ticked when she found out what she’d been hiding.