The Dark Tower (Page 11)

"Push, you gods-damned lazy bitch!" Scowther almost howled, and Roland and Eddie suddenly disappeared through the ceiling for good, as if blown away by the force of the man’s breath.

For all Susannah knew, they had been.

She turned on her side, feeling her hair stuck to her head in clumps, aware that her body was pouring out sweat in what could have been gallons. She pulled herself a little closer to Mia; a little closer to Scowther; a little closer to the crosshatched butt of Scowther’s dangling automatic.

"Be still, sissa, hear me I beg," said one of the low men, and touched Susannah’s arm. The hand was cold and flabby, covered with fat rings. The caress made her skin crawl. "This will be over in a minute and then all the worlds change. When this one joins the Breakers in Thunderclap-"

"Shut up, Straw!" Haber snapped, and pushed Susannah’s would-be comforter backward. Then he turned eagerly to the delivery again.

Mia arched her back, groaning. The rathead nurse put her hands on Mia’s hips and pushed them gently back down to the bed. "Nawthee, nawthee, push ‘ith thy belly."

"Eat shit, you bitch!" Mia screamed, and while Susannah felt a faint tug of her pain, that was all. The connection between them was fading.

Summoning her own concentration, Susannah cried into the well of her own mind. Hey! Hey Positronics lady! You still there?

"The link… is down," said the pleasant female voice.

As before, it spoke in the middle of Susannah’s head, but unlike before, it seemed dim, no more dangerous than a voice on the radio that comes from far away due to some atmospheric flaw. "Repeat: the link… is down. We hope you’ll remember North Central Positronics for all your mental enhancement needs. And Sombra Corporation! A leader in mind-to-mind communication since the ten thousands!"

There was a tooth-rattling BEE-EEEEP far down in Susannah’s mind, and then the link was gone. It wasn’t just the absence of the horridly pleasant female voice; it was everything.

She felt as if she’d been let out of some painful bodycompressing trap.

Mia screamed again, and Susannah let out a cry of her own. Part of this was not wanting Sayre and his mates to know the link between her and Mia had been broken; part was genuine sorrow. She had lost a woman who had become, in a way, her true sister.

Susannah! Suze, are you there?

She started up on her elbows at this new voice, for a moment almost forgetting the woman beside her. That had been-

Jake? Is it you, honey? It is, isn’t it? Can you hear me?

YES! he cried. Finally! God, who’ve you been talking to? Keep yelling so I can home in on y-

The voice broke off, but not before she heard a ghostly rattle of distant gunfire. Jake shooting at someone? She thought not. She thought someone was shooting at him.

TWO

"Now!" Scowther shouted. "’Now, Mia! Push! For your life! Give it all you have! PUSH!"

Susannah tried to roll closer to the other woman-Oh, I’m concerned and wanting comfort, see how concerned I am, concern and wanting comfort is all it is-but the one called Straw pulled her back. The segmented steel cable swung and stretched out between them. "Keep your distance, bitch," Straw said, and for the first time Susannah faced the possibility that they weren’t going to let her get hold of Scowther’s gun. Or any gun.

Mia screamed again, crying out to a strange god in a strange language. When she tried to raise her midsection from the table, the nurse-Alia, Susannah thought the nurse’s name was Alia-forced her down again, and Scowther gave a short, curt cry of what sounded like satisfaction. He tossed aside the forceps he’d been holding.

"Why d’ye do that?" Sayre demanded. The sheets beneath Mia’s spread legs were now damp with blood, and the boss sounded flustered.

"Won’t need them!" Scowther returned breezily. "She was built for babies, could have a dozen in the rice-patch and never miss a row’s worth of picking. Here it comes, neat as you please!"

Scowther made as if to grab the largish basin sitting on the next bed, decided he didn’t have quite enough time, and slipped his pink, gloveless hands up the inside of Mia’s thighs, instead. This time when Susannah made an effort to move closer to Mia, Straw didn’t stop her. All of them, low men and vampires alike, were watching the last stage of the birth with complete fascination, most of them clustered at the end of the two beds which had been pushed together to make one. Only Straw was still close to Susannah. The vampire with the firesword had just been demoted; she decided that Straw would be the first to go.

"Once more!" Scowther cried. "Foryour baby!"

Like the low men and the vampires, Mia had forgotten Susannah. Her wounded, pain-filled eyes fixed on Sayre. "May I have him, sir? Please say I may have him, if only for a little while!"

Sayre took her hand. The mask which covered his real face smiled. "Yes, my darling," he said. "The chap is yours for years and years. Only push this one last time."

Mia, don’t believe his lies! Susannah cried, but the cry went nowhere. Likely that was just as well. Best she be entirely forgotten for the time being.

Susannah turned her thoughts in a new direction. Jake!

Jake, where are you?

No answer. Not good. Please God he was still alive.

Maybe he’s only busy. Running… hiding…fighting. Silence doesn’t necessarily mean he’s-

Mia howled what sounded like a string of obscenities, pushing as she did so. The lips of her already distended vagina spread further. A freshet of blood poured out, widening the muddy delta-shape on the sheet beneath her. And then, through the welter of crimson, Susannah saw a crown of white and black. The white was skin. The black was hair.

The mottle of white and black began to retreat into the crimson and Susannah thought the baby would settle back, still not quite ready to come into the world, but Mia was done waiting.

She pushed with all her considerable might, her hands held up before her eyes in clenched and trembling fists, her eyes slitted, her teeth bared. A vein pulsed alarmingly in the center of her forehead; another stood out on the column of her throat.

"HEEEYAHHHH!" she cried. "COMMALA, YOU PRETTY BASTARD! COMMALA-COME-COME!"

"Dan-tete," murmured Jey, the hawk-thing, and the others picked it up in a kind of reverent whisper: Dan-tete… dantete… commala dan-tete. The coming of the little god.

This time the baby’s head did not just crown but rushed forward.

Susannah saw his hands held against his blood-spattered chest in tiny fists that trembled with life. She saw blue eyes, wide open and startling in both their awareness and their similarity to Roland’s. She saw sooty black lashes. Tiny beads of blood jeweled them, barbaric natal finery. Susannah saw-and would never forget-how the baby’s lower lip momentarily caught on the inner lip of his mother’s vulva. The baby’s mouth was pulled briefly open, revealing a perfect row of litde teeth in the lower jaw. They were teeth-not fangs but perfect little teeth-yet still, to see them in the mouth of a newborn gave Susannah a chill. So did the sight of the chap’s penis, disproportionately large and fully erect. Susannah guessed it was longer than her little finger.

Howling in pain and triumph, Mia surged up on her elbows, her eyes bulging and streaming tears. She reached out and seized Sayre’s hand in a grip of iron as Scowther deftly caught the baby. Sayre yelped and tried to pull away, but he might as well have tried to… well, to pull away from a Deputy Sheriff in Oxford, Mississippi. The litde chant had died and there was a moment of shocked silence. In it, Susannah’s overstrained ears clearly heard the sound of bones grinding in Sayre’s wrist.

"DOES HE LIVE?" Mia shrieked into Sayre’s starded face.

Spitde flew from her lips. "TELL ME, YOU POXY WHORESON, IE MY CHAP LIVES!"

Scowther lifted the chap so that he and the child were face to face. The doctor’s brown eyes met the baby’s blue ones.

And as die chap hung diere in Scowdier’s grip widi its penis jutting defiantly upward, Susannah clearly saw the crimson mark on the babe’s left heel. It was as if that foot had been dipped in blood just before the baby left Mia’s womb.

Rather dian spanking die baby’s bu**ocks, Scowther drew in a breath and blew it in puffs direcdy into the chap’s eyes. Mia’s chap blinked in comical (and undeniably human) surprise. It drew in a breath of its own, held it for a moment, then let it out.

King of Kings he might be, or the destroyer of worlds, but he embarked upon life as had so many before him, squalling with outrage. Mia burst into glad tears at the sound of that cry. The devilish creatures gathered around the new modier were bondservants of the Crimson King, but that didn’t make them immune to what they had just witnessed. They broke into applause and laughter. Susannah was not a little disgusted to find herself joining them. The baby looked around at the sound, his expression one of clear amazement.

Weeping, with tears running down her cheeks and clear snot dripping from her nose, Mia held out her arms. "Give him to me!" wept she; so wept Mia, daughter of none and mother of one. "Let me hold him, I beg, let me hold my son! Let me hold my chap! Let me hold my precious!"

And the baby turned its head to the sound of his mother’s voice. Susannah would have said such a thing was impossible, but of course she would have said a baby born wide awake, with a mouthful of teeth and a boner, was impossible, as well. Yet in every other way the babe seemed completely normal to her: chubby and well-formed, human and thus dear. There was the red mark on his heel, yes, but how many children, normal in every other regard, were born with some sort of birthmark?