Murphy’s law of Babies: When you look away for two seconds and your child has absconded, it will invariably be found in whatever situation would cause the quickest messy death or most political upheaval if an adult were in the same situation.
Luckily children can get away with anything by virtue of being children, and will not be immediately vaporised for hiding behind Graknor, Conqueror of Galaxies’ legs.
Sahra let her toddler go so she could tuck herself back in. Poor little Amba was having trouble with her solids and the perpetual search for something she could chew - besides Sahra’s nipples - was ongoing and arduous.
It was the other reason she brought Amba with her, this Meet. So she could see the best of the Galactic doctors and finally, finally, figure out what was going wrong.
Nobody had commented about her temporary exposure. But then, she wasn’t the only ambassador nurturing their young.
Unfortunately, her young was the only one going straight up to a Level Six Deathworlder’s spiked-armour boots.
Klacid the Conqueror of H’radiss, ruler of worlds, devastator of enemies…. did not notice Amba until the tiny girl threw up on his shiny shoes.
He stopped, mid-speech, and picked up the child. Sahra, already halfway towards the scene, inadvertently blurted her baby’s name. It was bad form to interrupt an Ambassador’s Introduction, but she wasn’t thinking clearly by then.
No mother at the Meet would blame her.
“What do you do, little scrap?” said Klacid the Conquerer. “This is the origin of the mighty humans?”
And then Amba grabbed hold of and bit his poking finger. Using all four of her sharp, new teeth.
Worlds could have died.
Sahra disengaged Amba with profuse apologies.
“Num num num,” said Amba. “Bas’da Numnum.”
O God… no. Sahra managed a pained rictus as she tried to retreat in a dignified manner to her appointed seat. Simy, one minute too late from running messages to the Mythos table, fielded Amba to place her in her playpen.
“She is a warrior,” crowed Klacid the Conqueror. “She has drawn blood before she has picked up her first weapon!” He roared with laughter. “These humans are admirable. I like them.”
It was only later that science would discover that H’radiss blood had an enzyme that Amba could not produce herself. Klacid merrily volunteered to bleed for her, and was very disappointed that the medtechs could not only synthesise the enzyme for Amba, but infect her with retrogenes that would fix the problem.
[Muse food remaining: 14. Submit a prompt! Ask a question! Buy my stories!]