A day and a half. It took a day and a half for my water to finally break. Despite anxiously waiting the entire time, when it finally did happen, it caught me totally off guard. A strange popping release of pressure at the end of a contraction. I honestly thought I had peed myself until I stood up, and it really began to gush out of me every time I moved around. The comfortable carpeting had been a huge mistake by whoever designed this stupid shuttle. That and the lack of a shower. Personal hygiene was already challenging enough. I had just accepted being gross at a point.

  Much to my continued frustration, nothing really changed. Nicole washed my pants in the bathroom sink and hung them up while I sat on the toilet and waited. The contractions were getting more intense and more frequent.

  “At what point am I supposed to start pushing?” I groaned, leaning my head on the edge of the sink as I tried to shake a cramp out of my leg.

  Nicole hummed. “As we have no idea how dilated your cervix is, I will conservatively estimate a few hours.”

  “A few hours?” I hissed.

  “There are too many variables, you’re an Uxor, you’re very ill, just… you will know when to start pushing,” Nicole grimaced, washing her hands. “You will certainly feel it, an urge to push. Stillbirths increase the likelihood of complications significantly, but the baby is underdeveloped and likely quite small, which will be beneficial.”

  “Nicole,” I whined. I just wanted answers. I couldn’t catch my breath, this stupid fucking oxygen mask trailing in from the cabin. I pulled at my hair, the change of pain oddly soothing.

  “I do not know!” Nicole snapped. “I don’t— I don’t know…”

  I shrank at her outburst. Never had I seen her angry before. I didn’t like shouting. But Nicole composed herself; she didn’t yell anymore or throw a fit. But I could see her anger. I breathed through another contraction, unsure of what I was supposed to do now.

  “I am sifting through facts and statistics, and all of it means nothing,” Nicole said, rolling her neck out. “I am blind, Elsy. Your heart could give out, your kidneys fail, any blood loss could be catastrophic with your anemia. I am far too aware of the consequences of complications. The environment isn’t even sterile; all it would take is an infection,” she spoke, near frantic.

  “You’re scared,” I summarized.

  “Of course I’m scared,” Nicole shuddered. “I am supposed to be useful. And yet there is so little I can truly do.”

  I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. “You can be with me,” I pointed out, holding out a hand. “Night, day, whenever. I’m terrified, Nicole, but knowing you’re there makes it bearable.”

  Nicole took my hand but said nothing.

  “You know, I’ve never been pantless with someone in the bathroom before,” I pointed out.

  “What?” Nicole frowned.

  “I don’t know, just not something that’s happened before,” I shrugged. It was an absurd thing to point out. But considering the horrors, I needed some absurdity.

  Nicole did not smile. Apparently, less able to find humour at a time like this.

  “Everything will be fine,” I reassured, not remotely believing it myself. But I wasn’t trying to convince myself, I was trying to ease Nicole’s suffering. But that was something I could do. “I’m not dying until I find a nice patch of dirt to stick my fingers in.”

  Nicole still didn’t smile, sitting cross-legged on the metal floor.

  “Everything okay?”

  I recognized Stoyer’s deep voice. She was polite enough not to barge in. Simply knocking on the half-open door.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “If there’s anything we can do, just let us know. But obviously, we can just stay out of the way, too,” she added with an awkward chuckle. “But yeah, just say the word.”

  I looked at Nicole, who still said nothing, her eyes closed and so very still. “All good,” I replied. “But we’ll definitely keep that in mind. Thank you!”

  Stoyer’s response quickly morphed into some anecdote about her aunt. I immediately tuned out. “Actually, some quiet would be great,” I interrupted, a false cheer shining through my voice.

  “Right, sorry,” Stoyer mumbled. “I’ll leave you… to it.”

  I didn’t have the energy to feel bad. “Nicole,” I prodded her in the cheek. “What are you doing in that head of yours. You can’t outthink every problem.” I tried to be jovial, I really did.

  “I am not thinking,” Nicole replied simply. “I am doing what one does when out of tangible options. I am praying.”

  Time passed frustratingly slowly. The contractions became more intense and frequent. Yet it took hours, trying desperately to get comfortable, lying down, standing up, sitting on the toilet.

  Nicole had me do various stretches that supposedly helped. She kept giving me water even though it seemed to go right through me. She held my hand, rubbed my back, fluttering around and doing everything she could think of doing.

  Except for talking. Nicole was unsettlingly quiet. Which, out of nervousness, made me feel the constant need to fill that silence. I didn’t know what I expected her to say; she answered my questions, smiled at my attempts at humour, but something was lacking.

  I sipped more water between breaths from the oxygen mask. Everything hurt: my back, my abdomen, my pelvis, my head. I had pain in places I had never considered before.

  Nicole slid the needle into my arm, injecting me with more of the amber liquid. I had planned to ration it, but needed to get through this. Nicole had not put up any protest.

  Everything soon got a little softer. The sharp edges muddled, my tongue tasting like a cloud. I threw up. Nicole made me drink more water as I lay on the floor, my head propped up against the wall. The cold metal against my neck provided some semblance of soothing.

  When it was finally time to push… it was clear. I couldn’t even begin to describe the feeling other than the fact that my body was suddenly on board with getting this thing out of me. I crouched, holding onto Nicole’s forearms as she guided me through agony. I was exhausted, drenched in sweat, vision blurry, desperately pushing with each contraction.

  Staying balanced in a crouch was its own cruelty. I kept tipping over, lacking the strength or balance to stay upright. Eventually, I settled for just semi-collapsing onto Nicole.

  “I don’t know if I can do this,” I ground out, between clenched teeth.

  Nicole slid her arms around me as I strained, again and again. “You have no choice, Elsy. Be strong. This is not a situation you can back out of.”

  I nodded, digging my face into her shoulder, clinging to her for support. A pained whimper came out as a scream. More liquid splashed my toes. I kept my eyes closed to stop the spinning, the spotting blotches of darkness disorienting.

  Another contraction rocked through me. I pushed, and God did it hurt.

  More liquid spattered against the floor.

  “Elsy,” Nicole said gently. “Stop.”

  “Stop?” I repeated in confusion. Was it over? The construction was still happening. I blinked my eyes open, everything a blur.

  “Stop pushing,” Nicole grimaced.

  I looked down between us. So much red, bright and angry. So much… blood. Was that my blood? There was no baby, nothing that once would have been a baby. Another contraction wracked through me, spilling more blood onto the ground. Oh… it was my blood.

  I fell forward onto my knees, trying desperately to see through the spots filling my vision.

  “Shh,” Nicole said softly, rubbing my back. “Just breathe.”

  I did. The stupid oxygen mask was still around my face. “What now?” I mumbled, the word difficult to enunciate.

  “Now you sleep, Elsy. Now you close your eyes and go to sleep,” Nicole replied, gently laying me back even as another contraction made me arch.

  Everything sounded like I was underwater. Nicole was crying. That was probably a bad sign. Stony faced, yet tears rolled down her cheeks as she knelt beside me.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said.

  “S’okay,” I mumbled, taking her hand to reassure her. “I can’t die here, there are no flowers in space.”

  Nicole nodded somberly, squeezing my hand. “That is very true.”

  I struggled to keep my eyes open, not that my vision grew any clearer. It was only getting darker, or maybe that was just my eyes closing.

  I was very tired.

  Nicole leaned forward, pressing her lips to my forehead. “Good night, Elsy. I will bury you among the flowers. I promise.”

  “Good night,” I whispered, and then I slept.