Chapter 2: New Family.
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In the middle of nowhere
Cecil' POV
A small two-seater aircraft flew across the endless ocean, its shadow barely visible against the morning dawnlit waves below.
As for it's surroundings? There was nothing there except pure ocean.
No nearby land.
No ships.
There was nothing visible over the horizon.
Then suddenly—
The air in front of the plane distorted, like glass cracking beneath invisible pressure.
A massive hidden island revealed itself from beneath some kind of advanced camouflage field, the illusion peeling away layer by layer until dense jungle and artificial structures appeared beneath the clouds.
The aircraft descended toward the private harbor as it landed in the water.
Moments later, a man stepped out onto the dock.
Black trench coat, black gloves, black boots.
With the most noticeable thing about him being the scar running along the lower right side of his jaw.
Cecil Stedman narrowed his eyes toward the mansion sitting deeper within the island.
"What could possibly justify a 911 call…" he muttered under his breath.
But despite the annoyance in his voice, it also carried trace amounts of worry. Because when it came to his younger sister, disaster had a disturbing habit of finding her, or perhaps it was the opposite.
Sometimes he genuinely wasn't sure anymore.
As he approached the mansion, instinctively one hand drifted toward the pistol hidden beneath his coat.
And while this island spotted the most complex of security systems while also being off the map, experience had taught him that whenever Martha was involved, "impossible" tended to become a temporary suggestion.
Reaching the front entrance, he quickly input the security code. The reinforced doors slid open with a mechanical hiss.
Immediately, Cecil drew his handgun.
His movements became silent and precise, carefully scanning every corner of the ground floor.
Nothing looked damaged.No signs of forced entry.No blood.No explosions. Which honestly only made him more suspicious.
Slowly, he made his way upstairs.
Then—He froze.
A sound echoed faintly through the hallway.
Crying?, a baby crying?.
Cecil frowned deeply 'No, that couldn't be right' because while his sister was eccentric, dangerously eccentric, there was absolutely no way she would kidnap a child.
…Right?
The crying grew louder as he approached the room at the end of the hall.
And the moment he stepped inside—His remaining hope died instantly.
"Shhh—shhh—please Kal, you need to drink your milk," Martha Stedman pleaded softly, near tears as she desperately held a cup toward the crying infant in her arms.
"You haven't eaten since you got here…" The baby only cried louder.
Martha looked moments away from crying along with him.
Cecil stared blankly at the scene.
Then very slowly lowered his gun. "…Whose child is that, Martha?" His voice had gone frighteningly calm.
Martha immediately turned toward him, relief flooding her face. "Cecil!" she cried. "You're finally here!"
She practically stumbled toward him while holding the baby. "You have to help me, he won't drink anything I give him—"
"Whose child is that, Martha?" he repeated.
Martha blinked.Then tilted her head innocently.
"...His mine of course"
Silence.Cecil stared at her."Martha."
"Hm?"
"Explain."
"Oh." She looked down at the baby in her arms.
"I just said his mine, what more do I need to explain"
"Martha."
"Right, right, you mean how he got here, He crash-landed on my island inside a spaceship."
Silence."…What?"
"He came from space!" she said enthusiastically, eyes sparkling despite the situation.
Cecil simply continued staring at her.Not blinking. Not speaking. His mind frozen under the ramifications of what he had just been told.
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Cecil pulled out his phone and dialed one of his numerous subordinates.
The line connected almost instantly.
"Director Stedman, what can I do for you, sir?"
Cecil glanced toward the crying baby still in Martha's arms before speaking in the same calm tone he used during global security crises.
"Agent, I need you to send breast milk in a baby bottle to my location."
Silence.Then— "...Sorry, sir, but what?"
Cecil pinched the bridge of his nose. "You heard me, Agent. I need it here immediately. No questions asked."
The man on the other side straightened instantly."Yes, right away sir!"
A brief pause followed. "Anything else, sir?"
Cecil looked back toward the baby, still rejecting the cup of milk. "…Make sure it's lukewarm."
"…Understood, sir."
The call ended.
A few minutes later, the agent called back.
"Sir, your location appears to be under some form of anti-spatial interference. We can't lock onto your coordinates."
Cecil walked toward one of the nearby control panels built into the wall.
A few swipes.
Several taps.
Then—
"Try it now."A second later, a baby bottle materialized in front of him with a soft flash of light.
Cecil stared at it for a moment.Then sighed internally.
How his agents managed to acquire breast milk within minutes was a question he absolutely refused to ask.
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The brother and sister now sat across from one another in heavy silence while Cecil carefully fed the now quiet infant from the bottle.
The baby had calmed down almost instantly after finally being given proper milk.
Cecil honestly wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or concerned by that. "…Now," he said quietly, "give me the full explanation."
The only reason he was even entertaining the idea of feeding the child without hazmat protection was because he trusted Martha that when it came to science, she wouldn't cut corners.
While his sister might act like an absent-minded disaster most of the time, when it came to research she became terrifyingly meticulous.
Which meant before bringing this child into her home, she had absolutely run every biological, pathological, and environmental test imaginable.
So if Martha said the baby was safe—Then he believed her.
Unfortunately, that didn't make the situation any less insane.
(A full explanation later…)
Cecil sat there in silence, one hand rubbing against his forehead while the infant quietly held onto his finger.
"…So," Martha asked meekly, "what are you going to do?"
Cecil looked at her like she had just asked the dumbest question imaginable."What do you mean what am I going to do?"
His tone sharpened immediately. "I'm securing the ship and everything that came with it. Then the child goes under twenty-four-hour observation at a blacksite."
Martha's face fell.
"We can't trust appearances," Cecil continued. "For all we know, he could be some kind of biological weapon."
"He's not a weapon," Martha immediately argued. "Just look how cute he is."
Cecil stared at her blankly."Martha."
"What?"
"We just learned humanity is not alone in the universe."
His voice remained calm. Which somehow made it worse. "Everything we know about life, history, science, politics—everything—just changed overnight."
The baby yawned softly in his arms.
"And there's no universe where the World Security Council lets you keep him."
Martha's expression hardened slightly. "Then I'll stop selling them my technology."
Cecil immediately frowned."You can't do that."
"Why not?"
"Because the only reason they tolerate half the things you do is because you arm their militaries."
Martha crossed her arms defensively."Then this can just be another thing they tolerate."
"This is bigger than them, Martha."
For the first time since arriving, genuine exhaustion entered Cecil's voice. "This is bigger than us."
He looked down at the sleeping child. "You have to let him go."
Martha's fingers tightened around the edge of her sleeve."I can't." Her voice came out small. "His parents trusted me."
Cecil sighed. "They trusted whoever would have found him."
"No."Martha shook her head stubbornly."They chose me."
Cecil looked at her carefully as he realized something important, she was already attached.
Far more attached than he originally thought.
"Martha," he said more gently this time, "you barely know how to take care of yourself, much less a baby."
Her cheeks puffed slightly in offense. "Can to"
"A while ago he was crying because you were trying to feed him a shelf-bought milk through a cup."
"…honest mistake."
"You gave an alien infant whole milk in a coffee mug."
"I sterilized the mug."
"That is not helping your argument."
Martha looked away. "…It was a very clean mug."
Despite himself, Cecil almost felt a headache coming. Then he made the mistake of continuing.
"You just happened to find him. If their story is true, his parents didn't specifically choose you."
The moment the words left his mouth—He regretted them.
Martha's expression fell instantly. And before he could say anything else, she suddenly stood and hurried from the room.
"Martha—wait." But she didn't stop.The door slid shut behind her.
Silence filled the room.
Cecil exhaled heavily, looking down at the baby now sleeping peacefully in his arms. "…Damn it."
He leaned back into the chair. "I made her cry again."
A moment later, he pulled out his phone and dialed another number, the line connected instantly.
"I need a hazmat extraction team for a 689 and 690."
The agent on the other side immediately stiffened.
"Sir… those codes refer to extraterrestrial technology and a live alien organism."
Cecil closed his eyes tiredly. "Thank you, Agent, for explaining my own codes to me."
"…Sorry, sir."
"Just get the team ready." The line disconnected.
With the child now asleep, Cecil didn't waste time before leaving to look for Martha.
Partly because he needed to continue the discussion but mostly because despite everything—He still hated making her cry.
After searching through several rooms, he finally found her inside one of her laboratories.
She sat quietly at her computer, completely absorbed in a video playing on the screen.
"The first thing you need to learn about babies is proper support for the neck and spine—"
Cecil stopped at the doorway. As he watched what was going on.
On the monitor, a woman continued explaining proper infant handling techniques while Martha took notes with frightening concentration.
Cecil sighed. Then slowly pinched the bridge of his nose. "…Sometimes I'm way too soft on her."
Then walked into the room.
"You can raise him."
Martha froze.Slowly, she turned toward him.
"But," Cecil continued before she could speak, "I'm keeping an eye on both of you."
Hope immediately began appearing across her face.
"My people will be conducting monthly examinations."
The hopeful look grew brighter.
"He gets a tracker installed as soon as possible."
Now she looked moments away from exploding with happiness."And we keep the ship."
That last part sealed it.
Martha launched herself at him instantly.
"Thank you thank you thank you thank you—!"
Cecil grunted as she nearly tackled him to the floor.
"You're crushing me."
"I knew you'd say yes!"
"No, you forced me to, you know I can't stand it when you're mad at me."
"Same thing."
Cecil snorted softly despite himself.
Then Martha suddenly looked up at him again.
"…What about the World Council?"
Cecil's expression sharpened slightly. The relaxed older-brother look vanished instantly, replaced by the cold focus of a man used to dealing with governments and agents alike.
"Don't worry about them." With a smile on his face he added "Why do you think I took the job in the first place?"
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I am writing my A Levels this year so I'm already stumped and if you add the time I use writing I think I'm entitled to POWER STONES sooooooo give them to me