Sunlight Moonlight

"Wake up, space man." Red Hair's obnoxiously cheerful voice sounded close to Micah's ear. "There's some bread and a glass of water to your left. A basin to relieve yourself in on your right."



"Lainey?"



"She's fine. I'll be back in ten minutes."



Micah sat up. Sometime during the night, Red Hair had freed his right hand. He explored the mask that covered his face. Thick leather straps criss-crossed from back to front, holding it in place. A small padlock prevented him from removing it.



Defeated, he reached for the glass of water and drained it in a single swallow, then reached for the basin, need outweighing his pride.



As promised, Red Hair was back in ten minutes. "Hold still now," he said curtly, "I'm gonna draw some blood."



"You could have saved yourself the trouble and taken it last night," Micah muttered. "It was flowing freely then."



To his surprise, Red Hair laughed. "I never realized aliens had a sense of humor."



"I never realized earthlings were so barbaric," Micah replied contemptuously.



He waited, hardly breathing, until he felt Red Hair's hand on his arm, and then he grabbed the man's wrist and gave it a cruel twist reminiscent of the hold that was commonly used by security officers on the prison planet of Enguath to subdue inmates. "Release me!"



"No way." Red Hair groaned as Micah applied pressure on his arm. "Go ahead, break my arm. Break my neck. It won't do you any good. I don't have my keys with me, and this place is soundproof. You'll both starve to death before anyone finds you."



Micah's grip tightened on Red Hair's wrist. Everything the man said was true and yet it was tempting, so tempting...



Muttering an oath, Micah released his hold on Red Hair, then fell back against the wall of the cage, his whole body tense as he waited for the earthling to retaliate.



But other than shackling his right hand to the wall again, Red Hair didn't seem inclined toward vengeance.



Micah felt the prick of a syringe as the man drew some blood. He heard Red Hair's footsteps as he left the cage, the sound of the key turning in the lock, and then there was only silence.



Lainey? Fear clawed at his insides when she didn't reply.Lainey, can you hear me? Please , cominza, answer me if you can .



Micah...



Are you all right?



Yes. Micah heard the revulsion in her voice.He's examining me .



Micah clenched his fists as he imagined Red Hair's hands on Lainey, touching her intimately. He felt the rage well within him, the urge to kill surprising him in its intensity.



To his shame, Micah remembered the exhilaration he had experienced when he destroyed Red Hair's two companions. Killing went against everything he had ever been taught, and yet he had not know a moment's regret at taking the lives of those two men. They had threatened Lainey, and he knew he would gladly do it again.



He felt the power rise within him, felt its heat build. Immediately, he forced himself to relax. The mask was made of metal. Should he unleash his power, the heat would incinerate his face before it burned through the mask. He wondered how Red Hair knew such a thing, and then, in a flash of intuition, he realized that the alien whose skeleton stood in the corner had incinerated himself rather than submit to Red Hair's experiments.



Micah, no!



Lainey's fear burst into his mind. Too late, he realized she had been reading his thoughts, that she was afraid he was thinking of doing the same thing rather than allow Red Hair to examine him further.



Lainey, don't be afraid. I won't leave you.



Promise me?



I promise, Micah said, but he knew in the depths of his soul that if it wasn't for Lainey and the child, he would destroy himself rather than submit to more of the earthling's crude experiments.



The next few days were like a nightmare that wouldn't end. Red Hair's constant cheerfulness made Lainey want to scream. He spent hours at her bedside, trying to convince her of how important his work was, of what he hoped to gain. Chief among his goals was the need to prove to a doubting world that aliens existed. There were other extraterrestrials prowling the earth, he said, he was sure of it. And he would find them.



But it was her child that was Red's primary interest, and it was that topic that made up the bulk of his conversation as he wondered, over and over again, whether she carried a boy or a girl, if it would look completely human, or if it would have some of Micah's alien characteristics. Or if, in blending two races, she would deliver a monster. He speculated often on that, too. Would it be inhuman, fit only for a sideshow, or be born mercifully dead?



Sometimes Red took her into the lab and made her watch while he examined Micah, wondering aloud how it was possible for their two races to be so alike, and yet so different. Red constantly pestered Micah for information about Xanthia, its inhabitants and their lifestyle, even though Micah refused to answer him.



Red took copious notes, recording everything he did, jotting down Micah's reactions to various drugs, to pain, to drastic changes in heat and cold.



He took numerous blood samples in an effort to learn why Micah's blood was brown; he took skin samples to try to determine what caused the blue glow to darken when Micah was agitated and faded when he was at rest or asleep. He took X-rays and countless photographs. And made more notes.



Micah communicated telepathically with Lainey whenever he had the chance, but Red Hair kept him heavily sedated most of the time, and she realized that Red kept Micah that way as much as possible because he was afraid of Micah's strength and power, even though Micah's hands were chained to the wall and he was locked in a cage.



They had been Red's prisoners for five days when Lainey went into labor. It began with a small twinge in her back, a slight pain that gradually grew stronger and more intense.



Red was ecstatic when her water broke a few hours later. He practically danced around the bed as he freed her hands and helped her into a chair, warning her to stay put while he gathered up the soiled sheets and replaced them with clean ones, then removed her clothes and dropped a pale green hospital gown over her head.



When she was clean and dry and settled into bed once again, he went into the lab and gathered his instruments together. Returning to the bedroom, he pulled a baby blanket out of the dresser drawer, along with diapers, baby powder, and a soft flannel gown.



Lainey writhed on the bed, wracked by pain and fear. What would Red do with her once the baby was born? Would she be dispensable then, a witness to be disposed of? Helpless and afraid, she cried out as the time between contractions grew shorter and the pains grew stronger.



Death seemed to hover around her as the pains went on and on. Fleeting thoughts of dying in childbirth began to cross her mind, and she wondered if she would die in labor and save Red the trouble of disposing of her. Near exhaustion, she prayed that it would be over soon, that Red would allow her to hold her child, Micah's child, before she died.



Micah...



Lainey, don't be afraid. Try to relax. Don't fight the pain. Relax... relax... everything will be all right...



His voice filled her mind, sure and strong, giving her hope, a lifeline to cling to, as her body sought to expel the child it had sheltered for so long.



As from far away, she heard Red urging her to bear down, to push just once more. There was a blinding flash, and she realized he was taking more of his infernal pictures.



She screamed as the head crowned. A moment later, she heard an infant's cry.



"It's a boy!" Red said.



"Let me see him. Is he all right?"



"Perfect," Red said jubilantly. "Just perfect."



And he was. Tears filled Lainey's eyes as she gazed down at her son. He was small and beautiful, with pale golden brown skin, curly black hair, and his father's silver-blue eyes. An extra bit of webbing stretched between his thumb and forefinger.



She watched through half-closed eyes as Red clamped the cord, then cut it. Taking the baby, he washed and diapered the infant as though he had been doing it all his life.



He slipped the nightgown over the baby's head, wrapped it in a blue flannel blanket, then placed the boy in the top drawer of the dresser while he took care of the afterbirth, washed Lainey, and helped her into a clean gown.



When that was done, he laid the boy in Lainey's arms, then stood by, looking as proud as if he were the father, while she nursed the baby.



There were no words to describe the incredible joy that filled Lainey's heart as her son nuzzled her breast. For a moment, she forgot the hours of pain, the fear, the uncertainty of the future as she cuddled the tiny miracle in her arms. For once, she didn't mind when Red snapped another picture.



It wasn't until Red leaned over the bed and reached for the baby that reality returned, and with it a fiercely protective surge of mother love.



With a wordless cry, Lainey grabbed the water pitcher beside the bed and smashed it over the man's head, satisfaction zinging through her when, with a muffled grunt, Red toppled to the floor.



Ignoring the dull ache that accompanied her every move, she clasped her son to her breast and slid out of bed. Dropping onto one knee, she began going through Red's pockets, looking for the keys that would free Micah, but all she found was a set of car keys, and the key to the handcuffs Red had used on her.



Clutching his car keys, she climbed to her feet and hurried into the laboratory.



"Micah!"



"Lainey?" He turned toward the sound of her voice. "What's happened?"



"I knocked Red out. Do you know where he keeps the keys to that cage and the shackles?"



"No."



With the baby pressed to her shoulder, Lainey searched the lab, her frustration growing by the moment. Damn, where had Red put those keys?



A cry of mingled triumph and revulsion escaped her lips when she finally spied what she was looking for dangling from one of the skeleton's bony fingers. With a shudder, she plucked the keys from the skeleton's hand and crossed the floor to the cage.



It took several tries before she found the key that unlocked the door. Placing the baby on the floor beside her, she knelt down beside Micah and removed the mask from his face.



He stared up at her, blinking against the light.



"Are you all right?" she asked.



Micah nodded, his gaze moving to the blanket-wrapped bundle on the floor beside Lainey.



It took another few precious moments to free Micah's hands. "Come on," Lainey urged, "we've got to get out of here before he wakes up."



But Micah was reaching for the baby, drawing the blanket away from the infant's face.My son , he thought.



Lainey's heart swelled with love as she looked at the two men in her life, but there was no time for father and son to get acquainted now.



"Please, Micah, we've got to go." Rising, her legs still weak and wobbly from the birth, she took the baby from Micah so he could stand up.



Using the wall for support, Micah climbed to his feet. He could feel the physical effects of the drug that limited his power wearing off and he took several deep breaths, hoping it would help clear his head.



"Ready?" Lainey asked anxiously. "We'll have to take his car."



Micah moved away from the wall and took another deep breath. Caught up in the excitement of the birth, Red had forgotten about the sedative he usually administered in the afternoon. "Let's go."



"Not so fast."



Lainey whirled around, felt the color drain from her face when she saw Red standing in the doorway, one hand pressed over the gash in his forehead, his other hand fisted around a snub-nosed revolver whose barrel looked as large and deadly as that of a cannon.



"Attempted murder and grand theft auto," Red mused. "Not a very nice way to repay the man who helped bring your baby into the world." He wagged the gun back and forth. "Step away from him."



"No."



"It would be a shame if I missed the alien and hit the child."



"You wouldn't!" Lainey exclaimed.



Red's eyes were as cold as winter frost. "Are you willing to take that chance?"



Lainey glanced at Micah. At his nod, she moved away from him.



Red was going to kill Micah. The knowledge of what was going to happen, and her inability to stop it, filled her with such excruciating pain she was certain her soul was being torn to shreds.



A slow smile of satisfaction was spreading over Red's face as his finger curled around the trigger.



Lainey stared at Micah, imprinting his face on her heart as she waited for the gunshot that would end Micah's life and destroy all her hopes for the future.



But the gunshot never came. Instead, a high-pitched whine filled the room, ringing in her ears, sending icy shivers down her spine.



The baby began to cry and she cradled him against her breast, wishing she could shut out the awful sound of Red's anguished scream, a heart-wrenching shriek that seemed to have no beginning and no end.



And then, abruptly, there was only silence.



She started to turn around when Micah's voice stopped her.



"No, Lainey," he said, his voice flat. "Don't look."



For a moment, Micah stood there with his head down, feeling the hatred, the power, recede.



He drew a deep, calming breath, and then he crossed the room and placed his arm around Lainey's waist. He could feel her whole body trembling as he pried Red's car keys from her fist. "Let's go."



Outside, Micah unlocked Red's car, helped Lainey inside, and closed the door. Going around to the driver's side, he slid behind the wheel, took a deep breath, and turned the key in the ignition.



Lainey looked at him dubiously. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"



"I've watched you often enough," he replied with a shrug, and put the car in gear.



They ditched the car two blocks away from home. Lainey stood in the shadows, unable to stop shivering, while Micah took a rag and went over the car inside and out, wiping away their fingerprints.



And then, ignoring her protests, he swung her into his arms and carried her and the baby home.



She was asleep by the time they reached the house.



Micah sat beside Lainey's bed, his son cradled in his arms. His son. He couldn't get over it - the miracle of life, the wonder of holding a child,his child.



He glanced at Lainey. She was sleeping peacefully, one hand pillowing her cheek. He thought of the physical pain she had gone through to bring his son into the world, the fear she'd experienced when Red abducted her, her courage in simply accepting him for who and what he was, for being willing to love him in spite of everything. She was a brave woman, with the heart of a warrior and the soul of an angel.



He gazed down at his son, lightly stroking the boy's downy cheek, fingering the thatch of curly black hair. Never in his life had he known such a sense of awe, such a feeling of protectiveness, as he felt now. He tried to imagine what the child's life would be like, but he couldn't imagine how it would be to grow up in a house instead of in a controlled environment, couldn't begin to fathom experiencing a mother's love and tenderness, a father's concern. How would his son feel when he learned that he was different from other children, that his father came from a faraway star?



Would his son be able to accept the fact that he was different, or would he resent it? And what of his physical differences? The size of his ears, the webbing on his hands, the slight slant of his eyes?



Micah stared out the window. And what of the power? Had his son inherited the inner power that Xanthians were blessed with? If he had, would Micah be able to teach him to use it with restraint? Would his son consider his innate power a curse, or a blessing?



So many questions, so many unknown factors to consider.



Glancing down, Micah saw the baby looking up at him, his expression strangely wise for one so young.



All in good time, his son seemed to be saying, and Micah smiled.



"All in good time," he repeated, determined to enjoy every moment he was allowed to spend with Lainey and their son, afraid, deep inside, that the day would come when he'd have to tell them both good-bye.



Lainey called her parents first thing the next morning. Dolores and Ralph were at the house less than thirty minutes later.



Dolores blinked back tears of joy and relief as she hugged her daughter. "Lainey, thank God, we were so worried. We called the police, but we had no idea where to tell them to look for you."



"It's all right Mom, I'm fine, honest. I'm just so glad it's all over."



Dolores nodded. "Oh! Ralph, did you remember to call the police and tell them she was home?"



Ralph nodded. "They thought I was nuts when I said she'd spent a couple nights at a friend's and we'd forgotten about it."



"Oh, Daddy," Lainey said, laughing. "Was that the best you could think of?"



"Shoot, I was lucky to think at all, what with being a new grandfather and all. Where's that grandson of mine?"



Micah went to make coffee while the new grandparents took turns holding their new grandson, counting his tiny fingers and toes, marveling over how perfect he was.



"He doesn't look much different from other new babies," Dolores remarked. "I don't think anyone will be able to tell he's..."



She glanced toward the kitchen, glad that Micah was out of the room. "It's still so hard to believe that he's an alien. I mean..." She made a dismissive gesture with her hand. "The baby looks perfectly normal except for that bit of webbing on his hands. His ears are only a tiny bit smaller than ordinary. And lots of people have eyes that slant a little."



"I can't help but worry, though," Ralph said. "What happens when he gets sick?''



Ralph looked up as Micah entered the room carrying a tray with four cups and the coffee pot. "We don't know how he'll react to normal childhood diseases like measles and chicken pox. I mean, they might be fatal."



"We'll just have to wait and see," Lainey said.



"My people have done numerous studies on such things," Micah remarked as he poured the coffee. "Our scientists have determined that a child born of an earthling and a Xanthian would be immune to whatever diseases the mother and father are immune to."



Ralph looked skeptical. "But they don't know that for sure, do they? I mean, it's just conjecture."



Micah nodded. "Of course. To my knowledge, no Xanthian has ever joined with a member of another race."



Later, after the baby had fallen asleep at Lainey's breast, Dolores and Ralph insisted that Lainey tell them everything that had happened.



Micah sat back, the coffee in his cup growing cold, his gaze fixed on Lainey's face as she told her story. She made light of her fears, glossed over the pain of childbirth, but Ralph and Dolores weren't fooled, and in the end she told them all of it, how scared she'd been, not only for herself, but for Micah and the baby.



She related how Red had kept her handcuffed to the bed, how he had kept Micah locked in a cage. She spoke of the innumerable photos the man had taken, the tests he had performed on Micah, the copious notes he had taken, recording everything from Micah's height and weight to the amount of food and water he consumed each day.



She told of being in labor, how frightened she had been, not only of the pain, which was worse than she had ever imagined, but for her child's life. Her words came faster as she told how she had hit Red over the head with a pitcher, how she had taken his keys and freed Micah.



"And that man?" Ralph asked, sitting forward. "Where is he now?''



"He's dead." Micah said, taking part in the story for the first time.



Ralph glanced at Lainey, then back at Micah. "You're sure?"



"Quite sure."



"And the body?"



Micah met Ralph's gaze squarely. "There is none."



Lainey's mother stared at Micah, a wordless sound of horror rising in her throat.



Ralph St. John held Micah's gaze a moment and then looked away.



Dolores took Lainey's hand in hers, but it was Micah to whom she directed her question. "What are you going to do now?"



"I don't know. It's up to Lainey."



"We'll stay here," Lainey replied. "The three men who knew about Micah are dead. We should be safe now."



"I don't know," Ralph said dubiously. "What about Red's notes? The pictures?"



"If we're to stay here, I'll have to go back and destroy them," Micah said.



"I'll go with you," Ralph said.



"I think it would be better if I went alone."



"Nonsense."



"I think Micah's right, Dad."



"I'll go tonight, if you'll stay with Lainey."



"Of course."



They spent the rest of the day trying to decide on a name for the baby. Dolores wanted to name the baby Ralph, after his grandfather; Ralph wanted to name the baby Monroe, after his own father; Micah said it was up to Lainey. In the end, they named the baby Micah Ralph Monroe.



"That's quite a handle for such a little tyke," Ralph remarked.



"He'll grow into it," Lainey said, smiling up at Micah. "In the meantime, we'll call him Mike, for short."



"Mike," Dolores said, grinning as the baby's tiny fist closed around her finger. "I like that. What do you think, Micah?" she asked, glancing up at him.



But Micah had eyes only for Lainey, and the infant cradled in her arms.



"I think I'm the luckiest creature in the universe."