Chapter 219: News
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"Just because he's... blurring the lines... doesn't mean you get to behave inappropriately," chastised Clana. "How would you like it if Peter did that to you in front of his parents?"

Cluma tilted her head a little, looking mildly confused. "Uh... If he was just playing, I wouldn't mind?"

Obviously. If she'd thought it was a bad thing to do, the Law wouldn't have let her do it.

Camus facepalmed.

"You minded when he kissed you," countered Clana.

"It was only on the forehead," I muttered, but my heart really wasn't in it, and everyone ignored me.

"That's different!" exclaimed Cluma.

"No, it's not. Both are very obvious displays of affection."

"Okay, that's enough," declared Camus. "Peter doesn't seem to be complaining, and I don't think we'll ever be able to understand what those two are thinking. Now, don't you have news of our own to share, dear?"

News of their own? Despite not leaving the house for the past two weeks? What news could they possibly generate by doing nothing but...

Oh...

I looked at Clana, who was patting her belly, then at Cluma, whose eyes had opened so wide they were in danger of popping out of her head. She'd obviously hit the same conclusion.

"I'm going to be a big sister?!"

So many questions... Weren't they too old? They were older than average when they had Cluma, and it had been fourteen years since then. They were both over forty! At least forty-five in Earth years. Maybe even closer to fifty! And secondly, how did they know? How did they pick up a pregnancy that at maximum started twenty days ago?

I had a suspicion I was about to get another lesson in beastkin biology that I hadn't exactly asked for.

"Well, for the first few weeks, there's a risk... And we're not exactly in our prime any more... But so far, so good."

"I'm going to be a big sister!" repeated Cluma, the lack of inflection at the end making it clear it was no longer a question. She bounced at Clana before coming to a sudden stop, then going in for a far more gentle hug.

"Big sister! Big sister! Big sister!" she repeated on a loop while Clana ruffled her hair and scritched her ears.

I took a step backward, leaving Cluma to her excitement. Much to my surprise, Camus sidled around them and joined me.

"This is your fault, too, you know," he said with a wry smile. "Not that I'm complaining, of course."

"Huh?" I asked, suddenly distracted from the mother-daughter moment.

"Cluma was such a handful when she was a baby, we decided we couldn't possibly cope with two. But then she latched on to you, and... well, we were both looking forward to grand-kids."

"We're planning to adopt," I said, feeling my ears flatten slightly. They were funny like that. When I'd first got the fake ones, I was aware of every little twitch they made, but as I got used to them, I'd very nearly forgotten they were there. Now that they were real, each move they made subtly changed the sound of the blood flowing through them, once again bringing them to my attention. No doubt I'd get used to them again soon, but for now, I was being constantly reminded of their existence.

"You'll find that difficult. Orphans were rare enough before, but now that delving has become safe, they're almost unheard of. And even if you do adopt a child, they're likely to be closer to adult age than to a newborn. There simply aren't any orphaned babies."

Of course. There was healing magic and almost no deaths to disease or injury. Nor were there social services removing children from unsuitable parents. How could there be, when there were no unsuitable parents?

I gave a sad sigh, and, to my shock and horror, Camus responded by scritching my ears. Outside observers may claim that I squeaked again, but I was admitting nothing.

"Sorry!" he exclaimed, hurriedly withdrawing his hand. "With the way you smell, I keep forgetting that... you're... human?"

Camus ground to a halt as his face sprouted a look of confusion.

"Grover reached rank five and upgraded the enchantments," I said by way of simple explanation, not wanting to spoil Cluma's excitement. Alas, from the way Clana and Cluma were both staring at us, they must have seen everything.

"Dad!" exclaimed Cluma in shock.

"So, you've finally accepted him as part of the family," said Clana, wearing the same obscene grin she sported in her interventions.

"I... I... Sorry," he stuttered as he edged away from me and slumped over at the table.

"To reassure you, if you do adopt, we promise to treat your child no different to ours, whatever their species and bloodline," added Clana, who must have been listening to our conversation.

Of course they would. The Law again. That wasn't something I needed reassurance about.

"And I'm going to spoil my little sister whether or not we have one of our own!" declared Cluma.

"Sister? You've already decided it's a girl?" asked Clana.

"Mmm! I want a little sister!"

I laughed at the family antics. Cluma in a social situation—a clump of excitement, bubbles and hugs crammed together into the shape of a catgirl—was very different to the more serious Cluma that stalked through dungeons and glared at Grover until he decided that axing my limbs off wasn't on his plans for the day after all. I'd seen more of the latter ruthless, stabby Cluma than the former recently, and while both were awesome, I was missing the bubbles.

Which is why I was disappointed when Cluma's face suddenly switched back to serious.

"Mana drift," she stated flatly. "Over there," she added, waving a hand to the east.

Finally. What took them so long?

"Mana what?" asked Camus.

"Earth opened another portal. I'll get back to the village and make sure Darren is ready," I said, dropping to the floor ready for [Redistribute]. "Want to come?"

"Mmmk," she said, rushing over and grabbing my hand, spilling out all her mana en route.

Seconds later, the pair of us were back in the village. Another minute, and I was outside calling for Darren while Mum got a change of clothes prepared. Ten minutes, and Krana turned up. Twenty, and we went flying off the eastern edge of the continent and out to sea, too far south to hit Serpent Isle.

"Why didn't they just close and reopen it until they came out somewhere with land?" I asked, breaking the silence. The weather was good, but it was hard to judge what the waves were doing below, and I suspected they were higher than they looked. It shouldn't matter; the wavelength was long and they were smooth, but given how easily I got travel sick, I didn't envy anyone stuck down there waiting for us.

"That is a question you will need to pose to them," responded Krana as the portal came into view.

This group was smaller than the previous, with six people sat in an inflatable boat, two of whom were armed. It looked more like a life-raft than a real boat; neon orange, box-like, with a collapsible roof that could be pulled over the thing. Maybe the waves didn't matter; it could probably be made watertight if they closed the roof. With [Mana Sight], I could see a surprising amount of equipment stored inside, too, none of which I could identify. Why had they brought so much stuff with them?

Of course, just because it wouldn't sink didn't mean the people inside were in a good position. They were in their hazmat suits again, and I could think of few things worse than throwing up in one. The portal was, thankfully, not far from the water level, so at least they hadn't had a big drop.

"Darren, can you remember where the portal leads?"

"Yup! Easy!"

"Okay, tell them they can close it," I said to Krana, and he dutifully repeated my message at dragon volume. The portal snapped shut seconds later, but not before I'd had a glance at the room beyond, which was far smaller than the last one I'd seen and seemed to mostly consist of plastic. Not only were a few more inflatable people standing around, but the entire portal was enclosed in a transparent bubble, the walls flexing inwards.

That rung a bell. Negative pressure, so if it sprung a leak, things would be sucked from outside in, rather than the other way around. These people took their biohazards seriously.

Dropping the last team back in the middle of a city must have caused issues...

"Should we drag them back to shore?" I asked, wondering how we were going to have any sort of conversation.

Thankfully, our problems were resolved simply by Krana being very loud, and being perfectly capable of talking to them from the air. It also helped that my new ears were sensitive enough to hear them from our distance, too, allowing me to easily translate for Krana, A few minutes later, Krana had grabbed some ropes on the front of the boat and was dragging it back towards the continent at high speed.

High speed did not make a good combination with the waves. The boat skipped from one to the next, at times leaving the water entirely. One of the passengers—too far away for me to recognise through his layers of plastic, and who none of my appraisal skills would function on—vomited, splattering the inside of his hood with oranges and browns.

We reached shore less than a minute later, where Serlv was waiting for us, but the poor visitor was obviously not having a good time.

"(Shall we send you home?)" I asked.

"No. Want. Stay," he responded in heavily butchered [Common], his voice identifying him as Doctor Withermark.

"(Stay? You have hydrochloric acid in your boots!)"

"No," he started, before frowning. "(I don't have anywhere near enough words. I was hoping for permission to stay here on a more permanent basis, along with a few researchers. It'll provide a massive boost to our research to have equipment on both sides of a portal.)"

I blinked, once again immediately considering all the ways agreeing could go wrong. It didn't help that I couldn't see his logic at all. This was their first contact since the System had swept Earth, yet he hadn't even mentioned it. Instead, with no preamble, he'd asked to stay? Even putting aside his puke-filled suit, that sounded implausible. I squinted in suspicion, and the slightly abashed look on his face was more than enough to deduce there was more to it.

He had to know that I'd know, too. If it was attempted subterfuge, there were extra layers hiding somewhere.

"They wish permission to cross over permanently?" asked Serlv, who had managed to raise her level of [Language: English] at some point. The advantage of it being made into a skill; it could be advanced by practising what you already knew, instead of requiring any actual learning.

"(I'll admit, I would prefer you to make your decision very quickly, and send me home if you decline,)" added the suffering doctor, when I didn't translate Serlv, or say anything myself. "(It smells bad in here.)"

"(Is that safe?)" I asked, thinking back to what I'd seen through the portal, and their current state of dress. They couldn't stay isolated indefinitely... "(What about your disease precautions?)"

"(Given your survival, along with those around you, and claims about healing magic, we're prepared to take the risk, but it will be some time before we're permitted to return to Earth, if ever.)"

"Serlvrenalliacta? What's your opinion on a group of Earth humans joining the institute?" I asked, employing [Inspection] to grab her full name and hardly stumbling over the pronunciation at all.

Calling out the survival of me and the locals only made sense if they still thought I'd crossed over in body rather than soul, but the point about healing magic was still a valid one. If someone here got sick, a quick blast of healing magic was all it took to cure it. Adults rarely got sick to start with; normally it was kids with low endurance, giving us another layer of protection on whatever these people brought over from Earth.

"I see no issues with such an arrangement. The exchange of ideas should prove fruitful for both sides."

Putting pathogens aside, there were plentiful issues. Alas, thanks to being forced to trust these people, she couldn't see them... But as far as I knew, the institute had made no progress whatsoever on how to block portals, and I had no way to convince them that such research needed a high priority. Perhaps this was a chance?

A chance, but a risky one. [Soul Perception] revealed the chains of Law around all six members of this group, fully formed—not just Harry, who had visited this world before, but all of them, confirming it had spread through Earth. But while the chains were fully formed, they were not binding. They were still protected by their foreign souls. None of them could be appraised, and while each contained a System shard, they were all inactive. These people were not bound by Law, nor would they become so, and there was no way they'd work for any length of time without spotting what was up. Information that they'd assuredly share with Earth.

Earth would find out at some point. With the next generation infected and my inability to regain access to the ark, even if we completely cut off contact, they'd soon know. It was best to prepare.

"(How many people on your side are worried about us opening portals straight into sensitive locations and launching an invasion?)" I asked, causing the small group some surprise, and I didn't miss the guards frowning.

"(Lots, obviously,)" he replied. "(I imagine you're less worried, given our inability to control the exit point of our portals.)"

"(It's not at the forefront of most people's minds,)" I admitted. "(But we're still very much interested. If we let you collaborate with our research institute, can you share what you know about portals, and work towards ways of blocking them?)

"(Not only yes, but if it'll let me get out of this suit one second sooner, I'd even agree to wear the same clown ears you do.)"

I caught Cluma's smirk and hoped he wouldn't come to regret that flippant remark.

"(Just so you know, beastkin are real people in this world. I might be human, but she isn't. But one more question; what's your real reason for wanting to stay?)"

"(It really is an opportunity like none other, and something that would have happened at some point regardless, but I'll admit there's a story behind our rush.)" His eyes flickered to the guards. "(A long one, but suffice it to say, it's safest if we stay away from Earth for a while. A long while. Do you people have a concept of asylum seekers or refugees?)"

Ah. I could make a guess as to his real reasons, then. Ideally, I wanted to hear the full story, but was it fair to make him give it in his current condition?

I really hoped I wasn't going to regret this...

"(Then welcome to Erryn's world.)"

Doctor Withermark didn't respond, being too busy ripping his headgear off.

"(Ah, fresh air!)" he exclaimed, pausing only two seconds to inhale once or twice before moving on to pulling off the rest of his sloshing suit.

Of course, the stuff he was wearing underneath was still sodden.

"(I don't suppose I could impose upon you for a shower?)"

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