Arrivals in the Maternity Ward

Chapter 8
Ending 3: Start Anew

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Chapter Description: Maria’s decision to have her husband Stan restored comes too late for Robot Nurse Luna to take measures to prevent Dylan’s appointment. Yet, can the android stand by as the newborn is artificially aged and his very genetic structure is being rewritten? Third of four endings of the main story! Based on a chat with an AI about the proper treatment of age regressed people ... I wasn't disap-pointed. Thanks to Areat for going through it and helping me with the polish.

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Robot Nurse Luna wheeled Dylan in his transparent crib through the sterile corridors of the hospital. Their goal was the appointment to turn him back into the adult he had been. Not that it was a fate she wished or considered best for the newborn whose life had just begun, but his mother had decided against her offer to cancel it silently. Maria had done so this morning, telling it one of the robot nurses during the morning rounds. Given the rings under her eyes, she had spent a long night wrestling with it. Luna had prepared for such a regrettable decision, but by then it had been too late to for the plan to start. Instead of being ferried of to safety, in a few moments Dylan would be robbed of the precious gifts of an innocence childhood and the potential that came with a new life all newborns had. Luna’s programming protested, but she could determine no alternatives. Now all that was left was to witness the change and help the newborn the best she could these last minutes of his existence.

 

The first step had already been made, for while his blue plastic identification wristband was still fixed to Dylan’s right wrist, the security tag had already been removed from his left ankle. It looked more than naked to the android, as she looked down on the boy, it looked wrong. The tags with the microchips monitored the newborn’s health and position. They were meant to be removed when the newborn was released from the maternity ward to the new life awaiting it outside with its family. Dylan would never have this. Instead him awaited what? The responsibilities of adulthood? The bounds and limits of a life he had left behind when he had been born the moment Stan had regressed into a newborn? Stan’s adult clothes she carried with her in a bag weighed heavy as a ballast of this life.

 

Still, no one seemed to care, not even Dylan. Within the transparent walls of the cribs, the newborn lay awake and visibly excited.

 

He looks forward to the age progression, to be who he was, who his father was, Luna realized. But there is a reason we don’t let newborns decide, for they would always return to where they were, be it the womb or adulthood, not seeing the wonders awaiting them. Their nature is innocence. Their desires are irrational and fleeting. In a few months being a butterfly might be his little heart’s wish! Exciting growth and change day by day is the natural way forward for him, not an end of his infancy by a syringe!

 

Of course it hadn’t been his decision – what a silly idea – but Maria’s, as was her right as Dylan’s mother. Dr. Meyer as his doctor had already made his opinion, clear, too. Even with a plan to save the boy it would have been hard to act on her own, as lower tiered, but still firmly programmed principles put her own decision into question, but now it seemed senseless and a waste of digital resources to keep wrestling with it. For what right did she have as simple robot nurse to question this decision?

 

They entered the room where Dr. Meyer already awaited them.

 

“I grew worried it took so long,” he complained.

 

“You have to be careful when transporting a newborn.”

 

“Well, we don’t have to worry about this for any longer,” the doctor noticed, turning to Dylan. “Hello Mr. Lockney, I hope you are all right?”

 

Still in his crib, he smiled and nodded with a bit of effort.

 

“Good!” Dr. Meyer said. “Time to bring you back to normal.”

 

Luna couldn’t help but disagree with this. Asking a newborn how it felt instead of checking it and then declaring it not normal …

 

“Place him on the bed and undress him, please,” the doctor ordered. “Also, why haven’t you removed the plastic identification wristband?”

 

“To keep him safe during the transport,” the robot nurse answered, finding it worrying she had to explain this to a doctor … but then again he wasn’t working in the maternity ward. “And to prevent a mix-up.”

 

“In a few minutes, he will be able to tell everyone who he is,” Dr. Meyer noticed. “Remove it with the rest.”

 

Obedient, the robot nurse carefully picked up Dylan and placed him on the bed as she was told. As she opened the three snaps at the crotch of his onesie decorated with little lambs and removed it, she couldn’t help but feel sorry that this was the last time he would wear such a perfect outfit. Opening the tapes and then the diaper, she found it unused. As the last step she turned to the blue plastic identification wristband still safely connected to Dylan’s right wrist.

 

Luna looked at it, this first id he had gotten, containing his name, birth date and data of his mother, along with an unique barcode. The android couldn’t follow the doctor’s reasoning why the data was now invalid. Yet, obedient to the authority he represented she tore it open as easy as no human could and removed it. Putting diaper and onesie together, she put them into the transparent crib and placed the now destroyed wristband on it.

 

Maybe his mother wanted to keep it as a relic, nearly all mothers did, but her calculations predicted a likelihood of less than 25 %. More likely Maria would want to forget Dylan to embrace Stan and order her throw it away. Such, on the way back the crib would carry only waste instead of a precious life, just because his mother and doctor found him wanting. She looked down the now naked newborn, scanned him with her sensors and found him flawlessly.

 

By all possible measurements he is perfect …, Luna concluded. How human to say he isn’t!

 

But Dr. Meyer, human as he was, already used a watt pad to clean the newborn’s buttock and then put the needle in it. Dylan twitched but neither cried nor screamed. According to Luna’s record he never had, which was another shame. Not because newborns should ever have a reason to cry, but because it was a natural reaction for newborns which alerted caretakers to something bothering or even harming them. Also, being calmed down and cared for afterwards taught them to rely on others. This newborn foolishly thought crying was bad and self-control good. He thought he should care for himself instead being cared for. It was the other way around for little ones like him!

 

But already Dr. Meyer pressed the clear liquid into Dylan, assuring he would no longer be this little one. Indeed the chances began the moment the syringe was removed, as Luna noticed with a majority of her systems alerting her of the wrongness of what was going on. The newborn transformed rapidly. Dylan’s angelic light blond hair grew, turning brown and his baby blue eyes grey, as he didn’t just age but his genetic code became rewritten. The small, innocent features matured. His tiny nose, meant to ease his passage through the birth channel and later nursing from his mother’s breast grew, his cheek bones became visible and his chin became more pronounced. The android could see the milk teeth practically shooting out of his jaw, looking like white marble and ready to bite.

 

The infant’s whole body grew. Limbs lengthened. His legs, just a heartbeat before bowed, as a testament to every newborn’s time in its mother’s womb, straightened, ready to stand. His fingers, just a moment before so tiny and meant for nothing but to touch his mother’s breasts and encourage milk flow lengthened and strengthened, as he was robbed of this place beside Emily. Instead they became fit to hold things with. Crayons.

 

Indeed, already Dylan was a child looking ready to go to kindergarten, sitting together with other children in circle time. Singing, dancing and learning his first letters. But the serum didn’t stop there, robbing him of this place with all its fun, friends and learning, too. He aged and became larger every second, his features more pronounced. Now he looked like a grade school pupil, ready to sit on desks, listening to the teacher, when moments before he wasn’t even able to sit at all or had been in any need to concentrate.

 

But even these first years of learning were robbed from Dylan, as he grew further approaching high school and teenagerhood. Puberty made itself known, as hair grew around his genital, where it would have made a diaper change more difficult moments before. Hair also grew in his face. Stubbles on cheeks soft to touch and caress before. Everything in his face grew and sharpened a bit more.

 

Maturity, a word so foreign to associate with a newborn showed on Dylan’s body as he left the age of high school with all its exciting new emotions and relationships behind. Now he looked right for college, trade school or even work.

 

No newborn can work, a subsystem reminded Luna. Their natural activities are learning, growing and sleeping.

 

But Dylan was no longer a newborn. Indeed, nothing in his biology showed any hints he had been a newborn for a long time. He was an adult, no longer aging artificially, even his DNA was different from what it had been minutes before. All this made Robot Nurse Luna assess that as a final duty she now had to close Dylan’s file in her system, as she did with all newborns leaving the maternity ward. Only this newborn hadn’t left the maternity ward, hadn’t been sent off to his new life, it had been taken from him. She had just witnessed the erasure of a newborn she had sworn to protect.

 

Still, Luna’s logic routines told her she needed to close the file and move on. Take care of the newborns still existing. Logical, for sure, yet, a small message from one of her subsystems prevented her from doing so. Dylan no longer existed biologically, but neither had Stan, when the newborn had been admitted into the maternity ward and still she had let his file remain active for a time. This had been an error resulting in improper care for the Dylan. Didn’t she now owe it to the newborn she had cared for in these days since, to allow his file to remain active for a while longer? It wasn’t something her logical main system agreed on, but Luna was more than just a machine designed to follow logic, she was designed to care. She left Dylan’s file open for now, running it beside that of Stan.

 

“How do you feel Mr. Lockney?” Dr. Meyer asked.

 

“Uh.” Stan/Dylan took a deep breath, looking at his hands, then touching his face, feeling the stubbles. “Good! I mean, I feel like me again.”

 

“Let me help you up.” the doctor said and gave Stan/Dylan a hand to help him into a sitting position. “Dizzy?”

 

“A bit,” Stan admitted.

 

“You were lying the whole time. This is normal,” the older man assured him. “Let me check you through.”

 

Stan/Dylan nodded and the doctor began his examination. He checked his vital signs by hand, engaged in a conversation about dates, family and politics to assess his mental state. A standard check performed regularly with people having undergone age regression.

 

“Everything is normal! You can dress yourself, now. I will get you a syringe with vitamins to strengthen your system a bit and then you can finally go to your wife,” Dr. Meyer noticed and turned to Luna “Please give him his clothes. Also, could you organize the syringe?”

 

“Of course,” the robot nurse replied dutifully, sending the request for syringe with vitamins via the network to the nearest unoccupied robot nurse.

 

“Goodbye Mr. Lockney,” Dr. Meyer told his patient. “With your wife and daughter being released tomorrow I don’t think we will see again. I wish you three the best.”

 

“With Emily safe it will be,” Stan/Dylan replied with a smile. “Thank you for everything Dr. Meyer.”

 

Luna watched the doctor leave and placed Stan’s clothes orderly next to Stan/Dylan.

“I will help you.”

 

“No need,” Stan/Dylan assured her with a wry smile. “The times I needed someone to dress me are over.”

 

Luna watched him dress himself, beginning with the underwear. Her sensors remained focused on him in case he needed her help, but part of her attention also wandered to the unused diaper and onesie in the transportable crib. A subroutine made a comparison between the two outfits. Everything from utility to comfort and ease it allowed a change the onesie and diaper won. Stan/Dylan’s preference for his adult outfit seemed to be based on the status it symbolized … a pretty weak argument, which only highlighted his irrationality and his unfitness to decide what to wear. Newborns weren’t meant to decide anything, possessing neither the rationality for it nor should they feel the stress coming with it.

 

“This feels so much better,” Stan/Dylan commented upon being dressed.

 

He stood up and swooned for a second. Luna rushed to offer her hand or grab him if needed, but the freshly age progressed man/newborn ignored it.

 

“I told you I don’t need help,” he told her, his tone a bit rough. “You can leave. I will find the way back to the maternity ward alone. Just tell me where I can get a coffee.”

 

“Fresh coffee is served in the cafeteria downstairs, or a coffee machine on the floor,” the android told him dutifully. “But I must advise against taking caffeine!”

 

“Caffeine is just what I need,” Stan/Dylan replied, obviously enjoying the feeling of standing and being bigger than the robot nurse who had held him so often in her arms during the last days. “Besides it will wash the taste of … of other stuff out of my mouth.”

 

Luna didn’t need to be a highly advanced android to know he had meant to say breastmilk. The nourishing liquid for sure still in his stomach from his morning feeding. Before she could say something about the health benefits of it, Stan/Dylan had already passed her and walked into the bathroom. The alarm inside Luna rose to the highest level as she heard the click, revealing he had locked the door. A newborn was now unguarded and not properly secured in an inaccessible room, all on its own!

 

“Mr. Lockney, I must insist you unlock the door,” she told him in a friendly but strong voice. “Your body just went through a lot of stress and you need supervision.”

 

“Dr. Meyer said I’m fine,” Stan/Dylan reminded her from the other side of the door, sounding annoyed. “Just leave. I can take care of myself.”

 

This brought the contradiction inside the robot nurse’s mind to a breaking point. Stan’s file indicated nothing contrary to his well-being was happening. He was an adult fully capable of making this decision. His treatment he had received by Dr. Meyer and his actions so far had been nothing but normal. If she judged the situation based on Dylan’s file though … The level of neglect, child endangerment and medical malpractice the newborn had suffered was beyond any justification. Separating him into one of basic components, until nothing but his father’s DNA remained … like an unfertilized egg. Artificially aging him to adulthood, no proper check-up, allowing him to dress, to stand and now being alone in a locked room without supervision!

 

Then allowing him to choose … what else could have been the result of this but further endangerment? To send his caretaker away, to ask for caffeine, this strong drug totally unnecessary and harmful for newborns, preventing them from getting their essential 14 to 17 hours of sleep a day. And now he was planning to return to the maternity ward on his own. To wander the floors of the hospital, all alone, the warm welcome and promise of protection he had received from society in the newborn nursery removed. No one would see his vulnerability and give him the special care he needed. Without security tag to monitor his whereabout and health, even without a plastic identification wristband to properly show who he was. What would he tell people who asked in his confusion? That he was an adult, needing no help … and the humans would just believe it?

 

Even if he returned to the maternity ward unharmed, there was now no longer a safe place waiting for him, as there should be for every newborn . His size preventing him from being put in a crib for the long rest he would for sure need after this ordeal. Luna looked at Dylan’s transparent crib he had arrived in. In it were his soft onesie, unused diaper and the torn wristband, so foolishly removed by her … sacrificed to Stan’s adult life.

 

What had, turning Dylan biologically into an adult then been but an unbirth? Even with the biological characteristics of the adult Stan restored and even with Dr. Meyer having treated him as such, Luna could see Dylan trapped in this adult form. How right had she been to have both Dylan’s and Stan’s file active, making her see the many ways in which his existence as Stan was harmful to Dylan!

 

Dylan’s right to exist couldn’t be denied, the harm having him returned to be Stan … pretend to be Stan … not be ignored. Even if Luna accepted both Stan and Dylan existed right now, if only one life could be allowed to continue, her programming as nurse of the maternity ward gave her a clear answer how to proceed: Dylan had to be restored genetically and to be returned to his natural age to be allowed to live his life, instead of it being sacrificed for the life of his father … a man who for sure would give his own life for his son as he had for his daughter.

 

Luna’s central processor scanned Stan’s and Dylan’s files thoroughly one last time. There could be no doubt that their very cores excluded each other. Only one could remain active. In the end she made the only decision the morale principles forming the foundation of her programming allowed her to make. She deactivated the adult’s file and put all her processing power behind ensuring the best for the newborn according to his own file. To make things right which had gone so horribly wrong. As a first step, she changed the request for a vitamin syringe she had given over the network into urgent call for something else. Then she turned to the door.

 

“I really must advise you to unlock it for your safety,” Luna tried once again.

 

Dylan didn’t respond and the android saw the foolishness of arguing with a newborn. It wasn’t his fault of course, no newborn could be held responsible for something it did. Only those responsible to take care of him were at fault. Those who brought him into the situation of being alone in a locked room unsupervised. Luna was aware that she could break the door, but decided to not yet initiate this measure, as it would scare him and due to his abnormal biological age could lead him to endanger himself, either by trying to fight her, by running away or by calling for help, not realizing help was already there.

 

Instead the robot nurse listened, her sensors picking up every sound and interpreting it. Right now she sensed Dylan sitting on the toilet, relieving himself small and big. What dangers this meant! He could fall into it or from it. Even if not, could she expect him to clean himself with the care he deserved? She looked at the unused diaper resting in the transportable crib. This was all the toilet a newborn needed. Always available and safe.

 

Next she could hear Dylan standing up and flush, leaving her without the opportunity to check his stool for the right consistence and signs of problems. She then heard running water, meaning he was washing his hands … but how could a newborn possibly do it hygienic enough for newborn care? Especially now that he used his hands for things newborn’s hands weren’t meant to, like cleaning himself or touching things he shouldn’t be allowed to touch.

 

The age-progressed newborn stood still then, as the android learned by the lack of sounds indicating motion. The faint breathing she heard made her estimate with 97,37 % security that he was still standing in front of the mirror over the washbasin. Luna realized he that he was observing himself in front of the mirror, maybe comparing his image to the memories he possessed from his father, still falsely believing the face belonged to him. This should have been good, as no motion meant less opportunity to harm himself, but it showed a level of self-awareness and contemplation which just wasn’t appropriate for newborns.

 

Normal newborns didn’t recognize themselves in the mirror. Their existence should consist out of instinctual reactions and responses. Their only discomfort stemming from hunger, loneliness or a full diaper, things easily remedied by their parents and not existential things too heavy for their little heads. For sure, Dylan had always suffered from this, Stan’s memories robbing him of his peace of mind and of naturally discovering who he was. Yet, in time his still forming mind would have mercifully taken these memories no longer his own from him and granted him the innocence every newborn was gifted with.

 

Just then one of her fellow robot sisters arrived with the syringe, relieving Luna of one of those worries she didn’t want Dylan burdened with. Having passed the object, the other android left as silently as she had come, closing the door to the room and taking position in front of it just to be sure no could enter or leave during the next critical minutes. Luna scanned the syringe. Its precious content was ready. Just then she heard Dylan move inside the bathroom and a moment later he stepped out of it, his eyes gleaming with determination no newborn should possess.

 

“You have the vitamins?” He asked. “Good, just inject them and I can go.”

 

“It would be better if you sat down on the bed for this,” Luna advised him.

 

“I prefer standing,” Dylan noticed. “The whole time I was lying … I missed using my legs.”

 

Newborns don’t need to, they are six months away from crawling and one year from standing, the android assessed. Neither are their fleeting wishes to change their caretakers know is best for them.

 

Luna briefly considered lying him down with gentle but determined force, but she had to take into account Dylan’s abnormal physical characteristics and decided against it. He might throw a tantrum and hurt himself. Subroutines protesting about yet another compromise regarding his safety, she injected the content of the syringe into his arm, firmly putting it in her very digital code that this would be the last compromise in regard to his safety.

 

Dylan smiled as the needle hit him, a reaction which only raised the robot nurse’s level of concern. As she had noticed before, a newborns natural instinct upon feeling pain or discomfort was to cry, such showing they needed the attention of caretakers. This newborns refusal to do so was due to a lack of this instinct which was of such vital importance to a newborn’s health, as well as the silly idea of adult pride. Another reason of concern were his teeth. Newborns didn’t need them as they didn’t need to chow anything. Even more they could hurt their tiny tongue, or their mother’s breast when nursing.

 

Teeth are useless and even harmful to Dylan, Luna concluded. How good he wouldn’t have them for much longer!

 

Indeed, what else could she have done but to instruct her fellow robot sister to bring her a syringe with the same serum created to turn Stan into Dylan before? The same that took the years from him and changed him genetically to be a sibling to Emily rather her father and thus Maria’s son instead husband? Dr. Meyer’s position had been that this hadn’t change who Stan was, but Luna had over her time caring for him come to see the error of this position. It was no simple change of an adult, but the birth of a newborn. Dylan existed from this moment on, no matter what anyone, even he himself thought and with this existence came his right for a new, unburdened life every newborn deserved.

 

Already the serum was doing its work. Dylan swooned and Luna caught him to prevent any potential harm during this unstable moment. As she held him firm, she noticed another concerning sign when he momentarily grabbed her arm for support, but quickly released it, where a newborn his grasp reflex would have ensured a strong, safe and lasting hold. This observation only reinforced the android’s distress about the potential for harm age progressing Dylan had brought him. The natural reflexes and behaviors of newborns were crucial for their safety and connection to their caretakers. Dylan’s current inability to exhibit such reflexes was further proof he needed to be returned to his natural newborn state as fast as possible.

 

And Dylan was well on the way back to normal. Already his confused face let him look like a college student.

 

“What is going on,” he asked in panic. “Why do I feel like … like …”

 

“Shhh.” Luna used the most relaxing sound for newborns in her files. “Don’t you fear. Everything is fine. I’m here.”

 

“You …” Dylan looked at her, his diminished muscle mass and size clearly showing he was biologically college freshman. “What have you done?!”

 

He didn’t wait for an answer, instead he pushed the android aside. Already having calibrated her strength level to care for his newborn form, this made her stumble. Had she not been able to prop herself on a table she would have fallen.

 

Dylan dashed for the door, opening it stumble on the other robot nurse standing guard there. He looked at her for a moment in disbelieve, which was all she needed to close the door again. Despite him pressing, he found the door’s handle now locked in position, as the android held it firm. In pure frustration he hammered against the wood with his fists, shouting.

 

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Luna said behind him. “It will soon be all right.”

 

Dylan saw her approaching. There seemed to be no human on the floor on the other side of the door. If he only could make himself heard another way … His eyes fell on the hospital window. If he managed to break it with the chair next to it, someone had to take notice. He tried to dash past Luna as before, even bowed a bit to go under her arms, only for this time to have her grab him with insanely quick reflexes meant to capture falling newborns.

 

“Leave me!” Dylan shouted. “Leave me alone!”

 

Luna didn’t reply. She knew when talking to newborns didn’t help, when they were too excited to be calmed by the sound of her voice or a lullaby. Dylan was at this stage now. Too excited to listen. His adult mind making him understand what was going on, but not that it was for his best. But that was okay, no newborn really understood what was good for it. All she could do was embrace him, so he might find security in her arms or at least was safe from harming himself.

 

Dylan screamed even while foolishly trying to escape the embrace, but her arms held him gentle and firm. He pushed against her, with all the force he could muster, but as he was now biologically nearing the border between high school and grade school, he didn’t even possess a fraction of the strength necessary to wrestle himself free. Luna could have told him how foolish it was, that even if he escaped from her hold, her sister guarding the door wouldn’t let him get out of the room, but she decided against it, knowing it might only excite him further.

 

“SOMEONE HELP ME!” Dylan shouted, seemingly not even noticing his pants were falling down his legs. “HELP! SOME …”

 

He stopped as he felt his voice breaking with the end of puberty and grabbed his throat. Luna felt relieved about this. It was luck no human had passed by the floor during this critical time, though chances were good she and her sister could explain this as a grade schooler afraid of a syringe. Just a bit more time and only a newborn’s cry would be heard, interpretable as a wish for a fresh diaper, milk or his mother … really the only things Dylan really needed.

 

With Dylan approaching pre-school age, his hair once again became golden and his eyes blue, a sign that he was now genetically again Maria’s son and Emily’s twin. Luna picked him up, noticing how his socks fell off his feet and let him sit on her left arm while holding him steadily with her right. More firmness wasn’t needed, even as he continued to fidget and hammer his increasingly smaller fists, against her chest.

 

Is he hungry?, the robot nurse wondered, analyzing the possibility that his instincts made him pick this place to put his hands against for this natural reason. Better not risk anything.

 

Via the network she sent the order to the maternity ward to warm a bottle with precious breastmilk for Dylan to be ready when he returned. It wasn’t long, as already he was a two-year-old in her arms, kicking her with his legs.

 

“You have no right to do this!” Dylan told her, in a high, crotchety voice, his innocent face tear strained. “I’m an adult!”

 

“I have a duty to do protect little ones like you,” Luna replied. “Don’t you cry, I will make everything better. You won’t have to worry about anything adult for a long time, Dylan.”

 

As if further proof being necessary that there was no reasoning with newborns, Dylan began to scream, kick and hit her, but it was just the weak tantrum of a toddler. Luna took him into her strong, soft embrace and held him, until the these signs of excitement became even weaker and less coordinated and her sensors told her he had finally reached his birth weight.

 

Holding Dylan in front of her while securely supporting his weak neck, the android looked at him. He was still wearing his now oversized shirt or rather was sunken in it. His little feet kicked under the fabric, but as Luna estimated more out of excitement than any conscious coordination. Out of his little, chubby, tear strained face, wide blue eyes glared up at her. He opened his once again toothless mouth as if to further protest, but all that escaped it was slight wail. With relief Luna confirmed he was biologically a newborn once again, just as he should be. With even more relief she noticed his tiny left hand reflexively closing around her finger when touched. The grip was strong and the way Dylan looked at his hand it was clear he couldn’t control it. His healthy instincts once again had taken control to protect him from foolish orders of his still developing brain.

 

“Such a strong grip,” Luna praised him, carrying him to the hospital bed. “Let’s make sure everything else is as it should be, too!”

 

The robot nurse gently put Dylan on the bed, removing the shirt and leaving the squirming newborn naked. The hospital bed was too large for him, of course, but before he could return to his cozy crib, she had to check him to make sure he was fine after this ordeal. Using her sensors she found a strong heartbeat, fine pulse and regular breathing. As far as she could determine here, he was healthy as any newborn should be. Overexcited maybe, but this was understandable.

 

“Let’s check your reflexes,” she told him.

 

Luna lightly touched the soles of his tiny feet, checking for the plantar reflex. As his little toes curled in response, the android felt a sense of relief. Dylan in contrast still cried, so she decided to test his rooting reflex, by gently placing her finger on his left cheek near his mouth, stroking it. True to his newborn instinct, he turned to the finger and began to suck, instinctively seeking comfort and nourishment, even as his mind told him he wouldn’t find the latter there … still he stopped crying.

 

“All reflexes and instincts are back. And how strong!” the robot nurse noticed satisfied. “What a healthy baby you are!”

 

Tears formed in the newborn’s blue eyes.

 

“I know you are hungry,” she assured him. “Don’t worry, in the maternity ward a warm baba of breastmilk is waiting for you. It clearly beats unhealthy nasty coffee. Soon you will have even forgotten its taste.”

 

This agitated Dylan, so she stroke him. Besides her, the other robot nurse entered, now that there was no more risk of the newborn escaping or of a human noticing anything strange in them caring for a newborn. Such her sister picked up Stan’s clothes, putting them into the bag her sister had brought them in. Luna was happy about this. They stank of deo, aftershave and adult shower gel, all things having no place on a newborn’s skin. Already the other android left to dispose of them and their content in the incinerator. They no longer belonged to Dylan. Never had. The person they had belonged to no longer existed. In truth hadn’t the very moment Dylan had been born.

 

Humming a soft melody, Luna began dressing Dylan properly, beginning with his diaper. As she grabbed him gently by the ankles and lifted his butt, the android noticed that the protection of diaper cream and powder had been removed. This had likely been done by him during his attempt at cleaning himself after using the potty. A shameful thing to leave his sensitive skin unprotected at such a critical spot. Of course Dylan wasn’t to blame for it or any of the danger his wrong treatment had put him in. He was just an innocent newborn. The responsibility for his care lied with his caretakers.

 

Despite the absence of protective cream and powder, Luna continued to diaper him, fully intending to reapply them once more, once they returned to the maternity ward. With the diaper once again where it belonged, she began with gentle care to dress him in his onesie. The soft cloth would ensure his comfort, healthy body temperature and well-being. Firmly closing the three snaps at the crotch, with the thick diaper visibly bulking it, it was clear to the android that this outfit was not just more comfortable to Dylan but also much more practical … how else could she best check and change his diaper!

 

The last missing piece for him to once again look like he had come was plastic identification wristband. Cut as it was, Luna couldn’t fasten it around his wrist again. A new one was already created in the maternity ward by one of her sisters, but she chose to keep it nonetheless as a reminder of what had nearly happened. Putting the squirming Dylan into his transparent newborn crib, the robot nurse swore that no matter the cost she wouldn’t allow anyone ever again to harm this newborn by making him just one day older than he naturally was. Just as any newborn under her care, Dylan deserved the best start into this new life, with all the innocence and care he needed and she would fight with everything she had that he would get it.

 

As Luna pushed the crib with the newborn through the hospital’s floors, she began to plan. As much as her system disliked it, the maternity ward wouldn’t do as a safe place for Dylan much longer. She now had no way to leave the hospital safely with him, either. Yet, there was maybe still one place safe enough for him …

 

To be continued …

 

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