Down And Dirty

"No. McCoy and I feel very strongly about this."

"Where is he?"

"Out getting coffee."

"You still insist on all this togetherness?"

"Yes.,."

"Husbands are a damned nuisance."

"I'd expect you to feel that way, Tachy darling." She managed to look almost sexy despite her condition. "And by the way, we're not married." Another spasm, and she panted, "How much longer?"

"You're just warming up."

"Terrific."

"Middle-aged mothers. It's harder on you."

"No encouragement, and now an insult."

"Sorry."

She reached out to him. "Tach, I was teasing."

"Try to rest. I'll see you in a few hours."

"It's a date."

Troll stuck his head around the office door. "You don't need me, do you?"

"Why?"

"Trouble at the Chaos Club. The call just came in."

"No, go ahead."

"Strange, there hasn't been a peep out of these goons for days. You'd think they'd have learned."

"Well, go and drive home the lesson again, Troll."

"You want to come?"

"Peregrine's in labor."

"Oh. See you later, Doc."

Tachyon checked with Tina and discovered they had moved Peregrine to the delivery room. In the locker room he stripped out of his peach and silver finery, shrugged into the green surgical gown, and scrubbed.

The intercom buzzed. He flipped it on with an elbow. "Boss," came Fi

"I've got a baby to deliver."

"Oh, right." Fi

A six-inch length of a switchblade glittered beneath Fi

An ambulance roared into the bay and disgorged a party of heavily armed men. Fi

When the idea of seizing Tachyon's clinic had first been proposed, Bre

But the word filtered down from on high: Tachyon can lead us to a woman who can sleep with a joker and cure him. Find her. And Tachyon needs to be taught a lesson. Get him.

Bre

The real irony was that Bre

The only problem was that he'd been jumped over Da

Bre

Eleven twenty-seven.

Bre

He had his own agenda. Right or wrong.

McCoy was holding up pretty well. At least he hadn't passed out and been carried out of the delivery room. He was even occasionally remembering to instruct Peri to pant, bear down, breathe. Her responses to these helpful reminders were direct and uncomplimentary Another brittle scream tore from her throat, and she arched in the stirrups. Tachyon, eyes flicking between monitors and her dilated cervix, said softly, "You're doing fine, Peri. Just a little more now."

He reached out and touched the unformed mind of the child fighting its way down the birth canal. Fear, fury at having its comfortable world so abruptly upset. (Definitely Fortunato's child.) Tachyon stroked and soothed, watched the heartbeat slow from its frenzied pounding.

You're going to be all right, little man. Don't give me the satisfaction of being right.

How many times had he hunched between a mother's knees, received a child, and had it turn to sludge in his hands? Too many.

There was a crash that swung him around on the stool, and the alien gaped in amazement at the three armed men who had plunged through the doors of the delivery room. Peregrine reared up on her elbows and eyed them with loathing. "OH, CHRIST!"

"What the devil do you mean by this?"

Tach retreated slightly at the aggressive thrust of an Uzi barrel in his direction. The two other intruders merely gulped and stared with reddened faces at Peregrine's private parts.

"You've broken the sterile integrity of this room. Get out!"

"We're here for you."

"I'm a little busy right now. I'm delivering a baby. OUT!" Tach made shooing motions with his gloved hands.

"Fuck this," yelled McCoy, doing just what Tachyon had prayed he wouldn't.

Tach's mind control dropped the cameraman in his tracks, and his seizure of the shootist sent the rounds spraying into the ceiling. Glass from broken light fixtures tinkled all about him.

"McCoy!" Peregrine struggled in Tina's grasp.

"Lay down! He's fine. He will live to be an idiot yet another day."

"Release my man or I'll kill you. One of the two of us will get you, or these women," shouted the nervous young Oriental. Dr. Tachyon released the gunman. "Now you're coming with us."

"Gentlemen, I don't know why you're here, or who you are, but I will be at your disposal after I have delivered this child. I can't slip away down the drain. I have to exit through those doors, so kindly wait for me in the scrub room."

He pulled his stool back into position between Peri's legs and resumed his quiet external and internal monologue to mother and child.

"McCoy," panted the ace. "Asleep."

Peri's screams and contractions were coming in waves. Tach didn't like her pressure, but… Suddenly baby slid free. Reaching into the vagina, he cradled the tiny head on his palm and helped slide John Fortune into his new world.

Tach tasted blood and realized he had bitten through his lower lip. He enfolded the child in waves of warmth and love and comfort. Don't change! Don't transform! By the Ideal, don't transform!

The baby lay in his hands, a perfectly formed man-child with a thick head of dark hair. The mucus was suctioned from the budlike mouth. Upending him, Tachyon massaged the tiny back, and a powerful yell erupted from the boy. Tach blinked away tears, wiped blood and mucus from the baby, and laid the child on his mother's flaccid stomach.

"He's all right. He's all right." Her fingers played gently across the bawling child.

"Yes, Peri, he's perfect. You were right."

The final details were handled; cord cut, child given a more thorough wash and wrapped in lamb's wool. Tachyon and Tina levered Peregrine onto a gurney, then heaved the snoring McCoy onto another. A face was thrust into the window of the delivery room. Tach hunched his shoulders and ignored it.

"Doctor, what's going on?" quavered Tina.

"I don't know, my dear, but I presume those armed gentlemen will tell me."

Bre