At least now they had a proper bottle to work with. Becki had tried to look on the bright side, but had come up with no better observation than this. The Palace had quite an interesting variety of things stored away in its storerooms, and it had taken some searching, but they'd found a regular, standard size, (Winnie-the-Pooh design even) baby bottle.
But the ravenous ke Hanadi baby, at three in the morning, was inclined to be fussy. Even fussier than she had been at the midnight feeding. Becki wasn't sure if it was the milk that she didn't like, or the question of who was giving it. "You miss your mama," she sighed, pacing the hallway outside the mess hall with Thirteen cradled in her arms, trying to get the infant to stop crying long enough to give the bottle a try. She'd drunk a couple of ounces, then all at once had seemed to give up on the effort.
The baby had been quiet and content enough early on--though perhaps that was simply due to relief at falling into human hands again, after Zee's stint as babysitter. For a time, on the Red Home mostly but somewhat when they reached Mendellia too, the others in Terra Group had pitched in to feed or at least to hold the baby (very rarely, to take a turn at diaper-changing), but gradually it had become clear that their Parisian souvenir favored Terra Three. No one else, save perhaps Raymond, had quite as much success at quieting the baby. No one else (save Raymond again; for this if for nothing else she was glad he'd tagged along with them) was willing to tackle the necessary but repulsive aspects of childcare. Perhaps it was just that everyone else was quicker at finding a reason why they *couldn't* tackle it, not just now anyway. Becki herself was only doing it out of a sense of self-preservation, since an unchanged diaper meant an unhappy baby, and an unhappy baby knew how to let the world know about it.
Even with her diaper fresh and a warmed bottle within suckling range, Thirteen was letting the world know about it now. Becki sighed, then started to hum a last-ditch-effort lullaby even as she gave up on the thought of ever catching any sleep that night.
"After this, assuming I survive this, I'll think twice--no, thrice--before ever having kids of my own," she grumbled. And just then Thirteen deigned suddenly to notice the bottle; apparently her hunger had reached a point that made finickiness impracticable. She drank with a gusto to match the strength of her earlier cries, and even through exhaustion, Becki had to smile. "Well, that's once, anyway," she muttered. "Twice more, and after that I suppose I'll have to give in."
With relief she lowered herself to a chair tucked back in a niche of the hallway, closing her eyes and cradling the baby close. At least after tonight this responsibility would be off her hands; there was no question of taking the baby along to Jerusalem, and they planned to leave the next day, as soon as Kristy could finish her tests on the baby's DNA. Raymond had been suggested as a caretaker for the child while Terra Group went back to its mission, but he was adamant to accompany them in their search for Cheriss. Becki planned tomorrow to find Iris and somehow convince the old nurse to take on a new charge; failing that . . .
Failing that, she'd figure something else out in the morning. "Whoever watches you, I'll miss you," she whispered, stroking the child's wisps of dark hair. "But as soon as we can, we'll bring your mama back to you."