The room spoke with a female voice. “Birth at 09:48 12 August 2099; 21 Muhammed 295. Birth name Sandra Purcell O’Hara.”

“I didn’t know about the metal belly button,” O’Hara said.

“New thing. Makes the unplugging easier. It’ll come out in a couple of days.” He tossed the towel into a bin.

“Can I hold … Sandra?”

“Promise not to drop her.” He nodded at the assistant, who wrapped the baby in a fresh towel and brought her around to O’Hara. The creature was still screaming indignantly.

O’Hara cradled the child and softly brushed the side of her face. “Now, now. It’s all right.” She held her closer and the crying suddenly stopped, when the waving arm found a breast.

The baby grasped and squirmed around and sucked on the fabric. O’Hara almost did drop her.

“Strong instinct,” the doctor said.

“I’ll say.” She cleared her throat. “Could you induce, uh, lactation? If it was—”

“Physically, it would be no problem, just some hormones. But we can’t let the infant bond to you. It would make things difficult in the creche. It would make things difficult for you.”

“Of course. I know.”

“Better get her to Neonatal,” the assistant said. O’Hara handed him the baby and he swaddled her in another warm towel. She favored O’Hara with a sour old man’s frown, but didn’t cry.

O’Hara watched them take her through the double doors and rubbed the wet spot on her breast, thoughtful.

“Maternal instincts?” John said.

“Not really. Maybe a little. I appreciate the whys and wherefores of it. Bonding to the creche mother.”

“You had one yourself,” Dan said.

She looked at him curiously. “You didn’t. You had a real mother.” Dan was from Earth, from Pennsylvania.

“Wet nurse., So they tell me. I guess I never got the chance to meet her when I was old enough to remember.”

“I was suckled at me mither’s breast,” John said with his stagy Irish voice, “and sure you can see how much good it did me.”

FROM THE CRADLE TO THE GRAVE TO THE CRADLE

PRIME

Two days after witnessing the birth, or decantation, O’Hara attended a “specialty presentation” meeting that wasn’t really of much interest to her, but the woman leading it was a friend, and she didn’t want her embarrassed by underattendance. Twenty people did show up, including Dan, whose position as Earth/New New Liaison left him with a lot of time on his hands.

The specialty presentation meetings were informal get-togethers where one Cabinet member was given two hours to talk about his or her department, and elicit advice or at least sympathy from whomever showed up. This particular meeting was run by and for Sylvine Hagen, who was in charge of Cryptobiology.