Everyone shouted at me. They loaded guns, but nobody fired.

I kept running.

I didn't know where anything was, or what lay ahead. I saw rows of locked numbered doors, their contents ambiguous due to lack of windows or clear labels. I passed a morgue, but didn't go in.

I found a laundry, its pressed linen smells blowing out in large clouds, and nearby, a small elevator blocked by a laundry cart. Behind the cover of the cart, I sent the elevator up to a random floor, dashing into the laundry room. I could only hope this would throw my enemies off my track.

Although the scent was old, I could tell Pillow had been down that hallway. She didn't always use the elevator.

The laundry room contained several industrial machines, chrome washers that looked like beer fermentation tanks, driers with doors big enough to fit a torpedo through, and commercial pressing machines large enough to de-crease a sheet for a queen bed.

The stations had been abandoned. The people appeared to be on break or something.

Sheets, uniforms, towels, blankets and such sat in giant canvas carts, mostly soiled. I climbed into one of these bins, straining my ears for sounds of my pursuers over the hum and tumble of the laundering. I peered through eyelets on the sides of the cart, and over the lip, but saw nobody.

I checked my soggy bandages. They had held pretty well throughout the swim and everything, though they really shouldn't have. I adjusted the butterfly clips, and it was fine.

About ten minutes passed without event.

A soldier poked his head through the doorway, looking back and forth, but then he went away.

I waited a few minutes longer.

My cart tipped over, and a thick muscled bald man shoved a mound of soiled whites into one of those shiny chrome washers.

It wasn't whether or not the man would see me, it was only when.

When he came back for another load, I threw some dirty pants at him, diving around his grasping arms. By the time he started shouting, I was already back in the hall, tracking Pillow's scent.

For the moment, it seemed I had eluded Bishop and his companions. Not wanting to push my luck, I didn't stay anywhere for more than half a minute.

The scent stopped at a pair of double doors that refused to budge without the use of a card key.

I've seen a few spy movies, so I knew, intellectually, that swiping my badge might alert people to my location, but I really had no choice. One single chance to find Ernie, and Pillow's scent was all I had to go on . The trail lead through the double doors, so that was where I needed to go.

I swiped the badge. The machine beeped in response, but stayed red.

It seemed I couldn't go that way after all. I would have to find a way back to the elevator.

As I turned to search the connecting corridor, I heard a click.

The door still showed a red light, but I pushed on it anyway. A door at my school did the same thing when it was unlocked.

It actually worked. I slipped inside, searching for a hiding place.

I saw nothing but more locked doors. If I tried my badge on any of them, it would only make it easier for them to find me.

"Gonna be your man in motion," I heard someone faintly singing from somewhere. "All I need is a set of wheels. Take me where my future's lying, Saint Elmo's fire!"

"Hello?" I said. Nobody answered me.

I pushed on the doors, to see if someone forgot to lock any of them.

Nope. They remembered.

"Psst!"

Fearing I'd been discovered, I spun around and saw a little blonde girl waving to me from behind a half opened air register.

The face and hair looked eerily similar to someone else I knew.

I rushed to the vent. "Who are you?"

The girl just held a finger to her lips, beckoning me inside.

Seeing that I had no pursuers yet, I joined her in the darkened compartment.

She hurriedly pulled the cover closed, using an automatic screwdriver to seal it shut behind us. "I'm Sarah Wakweha."

All of a sudden, it clicked. "I have a friend that looks just like you. Her name is also Sarah."

"There's a lot of me's around here." She broke into a coughing fit.

"I know how you feel," I said. "There's a lot of me's in this place too."

Sarah crawled deeper into the ventilation system. "C'mon. The cameras probably saw you come in."

She coughed some more.

I followed her. "Are you all right?"

"I have lung cancer, so no."

"You smoke?"

"No. I just fell asleep one day, and when I woke up-" Coughing. "What are you doing down here?"

"Me?" I said. "I was in an experiment, but I ran away to look for Ernie. How about you?"

"I spent all my life in a little room. I got tired of it."

Sarah led me up a short shaft into a higher vent, fastening a piece of aluminum over the hole the moment I got in. "They'll follow us this far, but they won't know about the panel."

She crawled down another tunnel.

"Listen," I called after her. "I'm looking for Ernie. I'm sure I can find her if I can get safely back in that hallway, when the coast is clear, of course."

"The elevators have cameras in them," Sarah said.

I crawled closer. "What do you suggest I do? I don't know where anything is in this building. I'm only following a scent."

"What scent?"

"Her name is Pillow. She's an alien."

Sarah looked excited. "You know Aunt Pillow?"

I nodded. "How do you know her?"

"She visits me sometimes," she sighed. "I feel bad about her family."

"I feel bad for you," I said.

"Don't be. When I die, I'll get to go to Chisda and live with Pillow and other Abreyas forever. I'll even have a tail."

"Can you take me where Pillow lives?" Then, to make sure she understood, "I mean, here. I'm trying to find Ernie. I'm sure I can pick up her scent trail from wherever she stays."

She didn't answer the question. "What's that crinkling sound?"

I offered her some of the snacks I had in my pockets.

The girl dug into them like she had been starving for some time.

"This is much better than the stuff in that ship!"

"Ship?" I stammered. "What ship?"

"Follow me. I'll show you."

We crawled through a twisting maze of dark ventilation ducts for a long time, Sarah ahead of me, munching snacks the whole time.

And then I saw it through the ventilation grills. A gray boomerang shaped thing a little larger than a private jet, with a large spheroid at one end.

It looked haphazardly patched, a mishmash of seamless futuristic sections and earth junk, like someone had taken parts off an old space shuttle and wielded them to the frame.

The passage above the vehicle was barrel shaped. When we reached its far end, Sarah opened a panel, unfolding a little emergency ladder.

"It was in a scrapyard," she explained. "It took me awhile to punch the holes far enough apart to match up with the hooks. I almost got caught."

I followed her down the ladder a couple stories, into a large hangar. In order to reach the roof of the ship, we had to hang a few feet off the bottom rung and hop off.

Sarah said she had to jump to get back up there, difficult to do with her breathing problem. I promised to help her when the time came.

The hangar contained only the ship and a bunch of machinery, mostly aircraft repair equipment.

Sarah urged me to climb to a lowered boarding ramp on the side of the craft and look around its interior.

Kitchen, bedrooms, a medical lab, and a small Christian chapel. The walls were a gray lavender, and they had a giant Venus flytrap-like furniture piece attached to the floor, its mate removed by a wielding torch. As I stared at the burn marks, I remembered seeing the plant out on the concrete, near a computerized diagnostic system.

The place was rich with old smells. Pillow, Shasharmazorb, David, Golic and others. Only Sarah's scent seemed new.

Sarah opened a freezer inside the kitchen area, showing me its contents. Not very appetizing. Containers of what looked like Timothy hay, things with eyeballs all over them, stuff that looked moldy and worm infested..."I ate most the good stuff, like the pizza and hamburgers. There's a container of giant shrimp, if you want it, but I have to warn you, it doesn't taste like shrimp. Also, that bread in there only looks like it has worms in it. They don't move. It's actually not bad, but I prefer your stuff."

Hearing a noise, Sarah pulled me behind a table, pressing her back to the oddly textured surface.

We held our breath, listening for security people. I thought I heard footsteps.

Sarah pointed to a tunnel on the left. "Go into the room with the saddle. There's a secret compartment in the floor."

I rushed that way, staring through doorways.

Gray bedrooms with jellyfish-like beds, closets and drawers along the walls...

Decoration varied from room to room. It appeared they once held a great deal more, but items had been removed by someone. What remained was mostly terrestrial, one room displaying posters from scifi movies, earth books and videos, another with Disney princesses, Dora the Explorer, and stuffed animals.

The alien artifacts that remained did not appear to be of great usefulness, a cone shaped device that featured a floating image of a forest of massive mushrooms on some alien planet, a glowing device resembling a surfboard, a metal object that looked like a horn, covered in symbols.

I found the saddle on the floor in a room decorated with posters from classic films, Gone With The Wind, Wizard of Oz, E.T., As Good As It Gets. A pile of books lay scattered on the floor around it, romance, western, fantasy.

I don't know what kind of animal that saddle was supposed to go on, but it didn't look like something a horse could wear.

Having no time to figure it out, I immediately set about searching for the secret compartment.

It was a little tricky, but I found a hidden catch, opening a section of the floor.

The compartment was crammed with books, like The Hardy Boys and Narnia. I thought I saw some alien devices, some earth toys and maybe a weapon, but I had no time to examine them. Already I heard the sound of boots clomping up to the room.

I made myself small and climbed into the compartment, closing the lid. As the latches clicked in place, and I lay there silently holding my breath, I imagined this was probably how it felt to be buried alive.

I didn't move a muscle, keeping my breath slow and even. Men's voices murmured as boots clomped through the doorway, then back out out again.

I must have laid there for twenty minutes, impersonating a dead man.

At last, the bootsteps and voices faded away.

Slowly, I fumbled around for some way to remove the lid. When I couldn't find one, I panicked, my heart rate jumping to an unsafe level.

That's when I heard Queen's Flash Gordon theme blaring in my ear.

The voices, had faded just moments ago, now resumed their original volume, boots tramping all around my compartment.

Well, I thought. So much for being buried alive.

The music had come from a round device that looked like a makeup compact. The thing had a lot of confusing buttons on it. I couldn't tell what was what. When I opened it, I found myself staring at a bearded brunette with a furry neck, in a round room with walls patterned like a purple rattlesnake. I guessed this to be some kind of video chat system.

The man sat

"David?" the man said a little too loudly.

I pressed my finger to my lips.

"Who are you?" he asked, but I just shushed him, pointing up.

I pantomimed being choked, shaking my head.

The man frowned, and I saw his hands doing something off screen.

A second later, words appeared on the screen next to his face.

Are you in danger?

I nodded.

Should I call emergency services?

I slowly shook my head.

Do you know how to use a Pelmobad?

I shook my head again.

Above me the men kept mumbling, stomping around, banging on the floor.

Where is David? said the message on the screen.

I'm not that good at pantomime. The only thing I could think of was spreading my fingers and putting them over my face, and the screen, like bars.

He's been attacked by an alien face hugger.

I gave him a nonverbal no.

He's in jail?

I nodded. Close enough.

What did he do?

I just sighed.

The noise above the compartment lessened somewhat. I guess they couldn't figure out the compartment.

One good thing about the device. It provided illumination. I could, for example, read the copy of The Sorcerer's Stone beside my head if I wanted.

I searched around in the clutter for something to get me out.

I found a gun. A real life firearm.

The moment my hand closed around the handle, I heard the man hissing, "Shit! Put that back!"

The boots above got agitated. I thought for sure I'd be discovered.

I mouthed no.

Where are your parents? said the text.

I shook my head.

The gun was empty. I didn't see any bullets.

Where are you? How did you get this Pelmobad?

I raised a finger to signal `one moment.'

The sounds faded once more.

I held the device to my mouth, whispering answers to his questions.

Then I waited for the boots to come back.

I heard Sarah scream, and the whole ship became silent.

I held back a sob. I couldn't have helped her if I wanted. I didn't even know how to get out of the compartment.

I waited a few more minutes, just to be safe, then spoke freely. "Who are you?"

"I'm Matt Gannon. You?"

I told him.

A gray faced woman appeared on the screen, nuzzling against his neck. Her body looked fuzzy too. "Who is this, wusudamuqegu?"

"David's friend, apparently." He gave me an apologetic smile. "Would you like me to send a ship to your location?"

"I don't know," I said. "They have drones and machine guns."

He scowled. "That...sounds a little difficult. I'm not a general or anything. I'm technically not even royalty..."

I sighed. "Does this gun have bullets?"

"I don't know. I wasn't even aware that he had a gun! You know we're Christian. We don't kill people over our possessions and stuff. Not when we have treasure in heaven. Zadoori is a real stickler over that."

"Who's Zadoori?"

Matt looked worried. "You haven't seen him?"

I shook my head.

The compartment was getting hot from my breath, and stuffy from the carbon dioxide of my exhalations. Something had to be done, and relatively soon.

"Do you know how I can get out of this compartment?"

Matt frowned, pushing buttons. "I'm going to do a search for the Quidsy 385 operator's manual. This might take awhile."

So I waited while he tapped buttons. "How did David and Pillow meet?"

"It's funny," Matt said. "We were out Grunkiahu riding, and he fractured his leg. Or maybe it was his tailbone. At any rate, he ended up in the hospital, being treated by her. She'd joined the church just a day before David was admitted. I hear, after they released him, he hung around the hospital for a few days, bugging her until she went out with him."

"Can this ship fly?"

The question made him frown. "I...don't know. From what you told me, I kinda don't think so...did you even see a place to fly it out through?"

"No."

"Gleenzag?" the gray one asked him, rubbing up against his body.

"Dista," Matt groaned. "I just woke up!"

"That is also when it wakes up." Her voice never once changed inflection or tone, almost like a robot.

He stared at her for a moment. "You're right, but it's going to have to wait. This kid's in trouble. Why don't you take a cold shower or something?"

She sighed and nodded. "I am proud to have you as husband, Wusu butt."

"Dista," Matt scolded. "What did I tell you about using Quana's thing? You know how that makes me feel."

"I am very sorry. I only wished to make you as happy as you were when geigy Quana was alive."

"She is alive, Dista. She's in heaven. In Chisda, right now."

Dista nodded, rubbing Matt's shoulder. "You should not point the Pelmobad downward. She will know you are unclothed from the waist down."

Matt blushed. "Go take your shower, Dista."

His companion hurried away.

"Hua kigo," Matt said. "I'm sorry."

"I don't care what you're wearing," I said. "Just help me out of here."

Matt gave me a grim nod, urgently punching buttons.

A diagram of a room appeared on the screen.

"`The Teegsug, or weapons compartment, is a feature of all Quidsy 385's...'" he read. "Like the Jeep or the Humvee, they ported these vehicles over to the private commercial sector, with some of their military features intact. `It is not advised for children to play on or around the Teegsug.'

"Here it is! `Child Safety Release Latch: In case of exterior button failure, child must strike activation panel and pull release ring located on panel three of Teegsug. If child does not own a tail, feet may be used to undo lever.'"

Behind a book by Oswald Chambers, I found a panel. I kicked it, and a panel slid aside, revealing a ring, set flush into the wall.

The problem was, I needed to do more than just pop it out.

I sandwiched the ring between my shoes and tugged, but it didn't seem to be enough. It kept sliding out.

"Abreyas have thumbs on their feet," Matt said. "And their shoes. I wish there was more I could do to help, but it's all analog, you know, in case the power goes out."

There wasn't room to bend over, but I could fold my legs a little, enough to pull off both shoes.

I wiggled my toes into the ring and pulled really hard. It didn't hurt as much as I thought it would.

It took me a great deal of effort, but I at last heard a pop, and the lid flew off. I sat upright, taking in deep breaths of fresh air.

"Praise God," Matt said. "Bravo, kid! Now if you can only escape from that jail!"

Stuffing the pistol into my scrubs, I dug through the drawers along the walls, searching for the bullets, but only found books, doll making kits, gospel music, oddly shaped lingerie, some rings and toys that looked obscene, and a sort of egg that exploded into something like underarm deodorant when I played with it.

"That doesn't look like a saddle for a horse," I remarked.

"It doesn't look like a saddle for a Grunkiahu, either, but that's its alleged purpose. Trust me, you don't want to know what it's really used for."

"What's a Grunkiahu?"

"It's...kind of a bird, but they're the size of horses and you can ride on them. Actually, fly on them, if you want to get technical. They're really beautiful creatures."

I crept around the ship, searching for Sarah.

I found her, all right, but Mr. Bishop and his soldiers were already dragging her away, kicking and screaming, to whatever lab she'd escaped from.

I sucked in my breath, ducking behind the Venus flytrap.

"What's going on?" I heard Matt asking.

"Shh!" I held the device slightly above the couch so I could see what had happened.

"Shit," he whispered. "I'm sorry."

I ducked back down, holding my breath.

The device was still on. When my fuzzy acquaintance noticed the state of his friend's spaceship, he cried, "They tore out the Hiarfamas!"

Bishop's head turned. I stuffed the device in my armpit to maintain the silence.

The android looked straight ahead again.

I waited silently for a few minutes, until they at last left the hangar, and the door clicked shut.

"How do I shut you off?" I said to the device.

"That's pretty rude for someone that just saved your life."

"Sorry," I said. "I'm grateful, but you almost got me caught. Can you please tell me how to use this thing?"

"There's a helpful instructional video," he said. "But it's completely in Wava. I guess I'll have to walk you through it."

I crept back into the saddle room, watching him give a demonstration with a second device. After the basics, he showed me some technical things, to the point where I lost patience. "I don't have forever," I snapped. "My friends need me."

"All right. Let me at least show you how to contact me."

I took a pen and paper out of a drawer, writing down the complicated symbols. "Thank you. It's been nice." I shut it off.

Sarah's ladder had been left undisturbed. This made me uneasy. Still, I had no other good way to get out otherwise, so I jumped up and climbed back into the vent.

I pulled the ladder back up, just to protect myself, not that it would do any good to conceal our little avenue into the place.

After crawling back to the junction we originally came from, I stopped, glancing back and forth in frustration.

I had no idea where to go. Sarah's scent took me all over.

An enclosed scrap yard with a ceiling.

An indoor pool.

A bathroom.

A room containing an epileptic Sarah clone, currently in the throes of convulsions.

A room full of boxes upon boxes of girl's toys, stuffed animals, and clothing.

A den with leather chairs, a fancy desk, and giant bookshelves.

My path ended in a hospital wing. The vent was loose, so I climbed out, nervously checking to see if I'd been spotted.

I had. A Sarah stared back at me from an open curtain in one of the wards. A second clone gawked from the window adjacent, looking just as curious. Their behavior reminded me of videos I'd seen of meerkats.

I hid behind the front desk, then backed around the opposite side when a gray haired woman in one of those white old timey nurse's outfits marched by. She appeared to be busy with paperwork, singing Poker Face to herself, paying me no mind as she filed.

This proved to be an act, for a moment later I heard her singing, "Sneaking by, sneaking by, the nurse's station..." to that same tune.

She carefully laid a red plastic card on the floor.

"Uh-oh!" she said in a mock dramatic voice. "Jen-Jen's badge fell on the floor! I hope it doesn't get lost!" And she slid it to me with her foot.

I snatched it up right away.

"Second floor, second floor, Ernie's on the annex side..." she sang, shuffling more papers.

Hoping it wasn't a trap, I ran through the double doors at the end of the wing, to an elevator.

I could smell Pillow's scent all around the place. I knew I had to go what way, even if there were cameras.

The buttons gave me an option to go up to a fifth floor, maybe higher if I had a key, as well as to basement levels and additional depths, if a different type of key was inserted.

I picked 2F, then waited for the car to slowly rise to the appropriate floor.

"I'd strongly advise against this, Ellie," Mr. Bishop said through a speaker on the wall. "You're putting the lives of you and your friends in great danger."

He found me. Because of the cameras.

"I have to do this," I said. "You wouldn't understand."

Bishop fell silent.

The doors opened on the second floor, and I rushed out in search of Pillow's trail.

I caught her scent going both directions. She walked this floor a lot, apparently. There were few places she hadn't been.

I peered through a few windows, an empty cell that smelled of that lion thing we killed, a winged thing, a wolf boy.

Catching Shasharmazorb's scent around a door, I rushed to the scanner, swiping my badge.

Close.

Instead of finding Ernie, I found a small version of Shasharmazorb's species, roughly the size of a German Shepherd or other medium sized dog breed. A black, ant-like alien bug.

Toys, games and children's books filled her room. Machines monitored readings from rounded probes stuck in her head.

"Hi," the thing said to me as it scampered up to the glass. "You want to play?"

"Sorry. Maybe some other time."

She sighed in disappointment.

"What's your name?"

"Newt."

I told her mine.

The creature appeared to stare at me. "You...look like somebody I used to know."

"Friend or enemy?" I asked.

"Both."

I frowned, uncertain of what to say.

"She tried to kill me. I once told Sh'kassk'dwuissueblik I wished the woman would be put in a body like mine, so she'd know how it felt."

"You're speaking English," I said. "And these toys...Did you connect to a human's brain with worms?"

"It's more like it connected to my human body. I used to be human once."

Would I turn into one of those someday? The thought made me shudder. "Hey, I'm looking for Ernie. Do you know where I can find...her?"

The creature's head drooped, making me feel bad, you know, because I wasn't being a friend, just kind of using her to get what I wanted. "She's in 224."

"I'm really sorry," I said. "I'd like to play, but I don't want to get caught."

She nodded. "Go. And give Sh'kassk'dwuissueblik my thanks. I love what she did with Big Blue." She pointed a claw at a stuffed dog. "I can't fit in there anymore, but it was really cool while it lasted."

"I'll be sure to tell her. If I have time."

I swiped my badge at the door.

"Good luck, Ellie."

I had a room number now, so I sprinted down the hallway, eyes searching each and every number plate for the correct sequence of digits.

Some of the prisoners shouted at me, but I ignored it. That, and the hands performing card tricks.

I swiped my badge at door 224.

It beeped, I heard a click, but the door handle wouldn't turn.

I tried it two more times. Nothing.

I kept trying, like some kind of retarded kid attempting to shove a square block through a round hole. And that's how I felt. Stupid. It made me mad.

"That's as far as you get, Ellie," Bishop's voice scolded through the door intercom. "It's time for you to return to the town."

"No," I whimpered. "I have to see Ernie!"

"I'm sorry. I can't let you see him. It will have negative effects on what we're trying to accomplish."

"Fuck you," I said. "I'm going to see him whether you like it or not!"

"No, Ellie. You aren't."

I dropped to the floor and wept.

"Listen. My men will be upstairs in a minute. I want you to be a good little girl and cooperate with them, okay?"

"Go to hell," I sobbed.

I heard him sighing. "We can do this one of two ways: the easy way or the hard way. The choice is up to you, but you'll find life much more pleasant if you don't fight us."

"What part of go to hell don't you understand!" I shouted.

"Fine. Have it your way." And he fell silent.

I cried some more.

Desperate in need of someone with a sympathetic ear, I dialed Matt.

I heard moaning. On the screen I saw a cheetah spotted body rising up and down on a brown and cream colored one.

At first, I thought I had misdialed, but then I noticed the `cheetah' had a gray face, and it kept saying things like, "Guep," "Wusu," "Loex," and "Oh yes, please."

The view of the room shifted, and Matt's face appeared, making all sorts of contortions in response to the female's distracting activities.

When his eyes focused on me, they widened, and he barked at Dista to stop.

She didn't until he yelled and pointed at me.

Dista responded by lying on his chest, giving me a smile.

"What's the matter?" he said to me. "You look sad!"

With tears in my eyes, I told him what happened.

With a frown, he pushed Dista off him, and punched a bunch of buttons. "This is going to be tricky. In order for this to work, you'll need to press your Pelmobad against the scanner when I say when."

I heard elevator doors opening down the hall. "Hurry!"

The elevator door opened a crack, revealing a white suited figure.

"Now!"

Without hesitation, I jumped to my feet, slapping the device to the panel.

The light turned from red to green. The door mechanism clicked.

Two men stepped out of the elevator. In a second they would find me.

I heard shouts and bootsteps, saw glimpses of white uniforms in motion. I turned the handle and at last dove inside the room.

An observation chamber, just like the one Newt had, with computers monitoring Ernie's brain activity. As the door clicked shut, saw the corresponding lobes of the alien's brain lighting up. Audio processing centers.

I found the cameras and a transmitter, the method they had used to `Facetime' Ernie to me on that little box in the hotel.

The room held benches, modern chairs, and a coffee machine. The seats faced a reinforced glass wall, beyond which I could see a black insectoid creature, similar to Shasharmazorb, but smaller, with probes stuck in its head.

Someone had provided it with cabinets full of craft supplies and a work table, a tablet computer and a small library of books.

Hearing footsteps outside the door, I glanced anxiously at the device. "I'm in. Is there some way you can lock these guys out?"

The face on the device frowned. "I can try. Hold the Pelmobad to the security panel."

I did, and the light above it suddenly changed from red to a flickering yellow-red.

"I bought you a few minutes," Matt said. "Once they swipe their badge a few times, it'll go back to normal. It's the best I can do."

"Thank you."

So once they tried to get in, I'd be screwed.

I would have mere seconds to get the help I so desperately needed.

I pulled my chair up to the glass, giving the bug creature a nervous smile.

"You kept your promise," said the monster.

I nodded. "I'm ready to share my burden."

[00000]

DOCUMENT ID #000810020257204: "Diary of Pillow Barnes" (Cont'd)

[00000]

After I finished committing all those hurtful lies about my imaginary affair to paper, setting it in the designated tray before the camera, a single sentence appeared on the television monitor:

Thank you for your cooperation.

The door to the egg room clicked open.

My egg is dark purple, splotched with pink. The surface is slick and bumpy, only a few inches larger than a human baby. Still, it's big. It's hard to believe something that size came out of my own body.

The scientists built an incubator for it, nothing more than an enlarged version of the one they use to hatch chickens. I preferred the one from my ship, a beautiful designer model that set me and David back a lot of money. It has a more sophisticated temperature regulator, sound stimulators, massagers...Transparent windows run along the sides, as well as places where a mother can place her hand, for that much needed `human' contact. The people in charge let me have it, along with my egg warming cushion, one of the few family related concessions they were actually okay with.

After removing a few monitors from the surface of the shell, I disrobed, placed my egg on the cushion, enveloping it in my warm fur as I listened to the baby's heartbeat. My tears rolled down its mottled surface as I thought about how I betrayed my husband.

Parents traditionally `sing' to their eggs. To a human, it sounds like whale song.

"Careful," David said when I first started doing it. "Keep making sounds like that, and you'll end up looking like one."

I got offended, we had an argument about my weight. He ended up saying he'd still find me attractive at whale size.

Shortly after, he was singing during egg warming. Of course, he just sang normally, hymns and rock songs, that kind of thing.

I thought about this as I gently rocked my egg, croaking out How Firm A Foundation.

And then my hour was up.

I dressed, dried my eyes, returned to 2F.

The unseen person had requested a replacement meal, so I brought it up with me in a little styrofoam container. She annoyed me, though, so I took my time.

As I passed room 206, a voice called, "It's not going to be in a library. The book."

I glanced at the backwards legs through the security window. "Then what makes you think I can find it?"

"You're right," this individual groaned. "Forget it."

"What's so important about the book anyway?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"I'm an alien," I said. "Try me."

"It's got magic spells in it."

I laughed. "Have a nice day."

"Asshole."

I stopped at 205 next, digging the note out my pocket.

I couldn't read Korean, but it seemed harmless enough. I wasn't handing out hacksaws or anything, just honoring a request.

I stepped into the room, facing the dirty glass window. "Uh...I'm...a friend of Song."

Scales moved past the dirty film. I heard a low growl.

"If you're a friend," a low rumbling voice replied. "You'd help us get out of here."

"I can't do that," I said. "My children are being held prisoner."

"Let me out, and I'll free them."

I squinted at the caked on slime, trying to gauge the creature's honesty. "I'm sorry. I can't."

"You don't trust me, or you don't believe I can?"

"Both." I shoved the paper through the food slot. "Perhaps tomorrow we can talk about something reasonable."

I hurried away from there.

"Hey! Arimadex graduate!" Ippi called as I passed her cell. "Find a way out of here yet?"

"No," I answered. "Sorry."

Arimadex is the Harvard of my world. The comment was meant to be insulting.

I arrived at the cell of the finicky unseen person.

"About time!" the voice complained. "Another hour, and I'd probably be a real ghost!"

I pushed the tray through the slot. I couldn't see what happened to it after that.

"Your name is Pillow, right?" the voice said. "Any relation to Michael Jackson?"

I groaned. "What do you think?"

The voice laughed. "Hey, he had a Blanket. Can't say I didn't ask."

Silence.

"What the fuck is this? I asked for yogurt with granola and an apple cinnamon bagel!"

"Sorry," I said. "They only had the cheese kind, and fruit cups."

A bunch of red grapes pelted the window. I never saw who or what threw them.

I sighed and walked away.

I pulled Mr. Magic's playing card out of my pocket, frowning at the number.

Same floor, I thought as I approached the room. Wouldn't hurt just to pass by and see what's there.

Empty prison cell.

I swiped my badge, entered, checking around to make sure.

Nothing.

When I turned to leave, I found a yellow tophat lying upside down in the center of the room. Somehow it had escaped my attention.

Inside the hat I found a thumb drive.

When I took it back to my room and put it in my computer, I saw something that made me feel even worse than I did before.

Those sick children I visited every day? They had been made sick.

Someone injected cancer and AIDS into perfectly healthy children.

And there I was holding their hands, convincing them to accept their fate.

I clenched my fists in anger, but what could I really do? One false move, and I could lose everything.

[00000]

DOCUMENT ID #000741011611602

(Elle's Journal - Cont'd)

[00000]

I confessed everything. The whole incident with the dead burglar. There might have been cameras, but I desperately needed help.

Ernie made sympathetic noises, like a parent looking at a child's skinned knee.

After saying everything that needed to be said, I waited for the creature's response.

The silence felt like forever.

The door beeped as the men tried to get in.

"Please say something," I pleaded. "I brought you my burden, now help me!"

"Child," Ernie said. "Are you sincerely sorry you killed that man?"

I didn't hesitate. Not a day had gone by in which I hadn't felt remorse for what I did. "Yes. It's something I wish I had never done." A sob crept into my voice. "And I can never take it back!"

"The Lord Jesus forgives you, Ellie. He has taken the burden of your sins to the cross on Calvary. Although he died thousands of years ago, he's the son of God. He knew of the evil you would one day commit, and he suffered on your behalf."

My eyes became bleary with tears. "He didn't care that I'm a clone?"

"I'm a space alien," Ernie said. "Jesus is Lord over the entire universe. If he can forgive a murdering Ss'sik'chtokiwij such as myself, he can forgive anyone. Jesus is still alive, Ellie, would you like to know him better?"

I nodded eagerly. "Yes, please."

I had just accepted Jesus into my life when the door clicked open, and uniformed men came stomping in.

I pulled out the gun, aiming at a well muscled brunette with a crew cut. The gun was empty, but they didn't know that.

Ernie didn't either, apparently. "Don't do this, child. You must forgive your enemy. Love your enemy, as Jesus loved you."

The soldier's companion was fat faced, and had glasses. When he moved, I pulled back the hammer on the gun. "Stay where you are."

"Is that David's pistol?" Ernie asked.

I shrugged. "Yeah? Why."

I saw the ghost of a smirk appear on her face. "It is a very dangerous weapon. The bullets can completely destroy a human head, even when mis-aimed at the chest or the lower extremity. Even a child could do catastrophic damage without meaning to."

The two backed away in alarm.

Ernie's head turned my way. "Be wary of what your body is telling you. You do not fully understand your own strength, or your weaknesses."

"What do you mean?" I said, a little indignant.

"Your flesh is at war with your spirit. Judging by your scent, I believe the flesh may someday blind you, and burden your conscience once more."

"Another death?" I stammered.

The alien nodded. "Whatever has been done to you, I believe there will be a temptation. You must resist it, seek the Lord in prayer, so you do not repeat my mistakes."

"What mistakes?" I asked, but the men took advantage of my distraction, spraying me in the face with something that made me sleepy.

"There is a time and place for reproduction," Ernie said as my vision blurred. "Without the cost of human life. You must wait for it."

Why would I need to kill to reproduce? I thought. But by then my mind filled with the gray fog of somnolence.

I awoke in a bed in a musty smelling room with green walls. Dusty, cluttered with junk, like someone's attic.

Old sloppily varnished furniture, uninspired rummage sale paintings of cowboys and mountainscapes, the gaudy lamps, bicycle parts and ceramics of questionable value. I stared at my surroundings, wondering if TV's Fred Sanford lived there.

I checked the pockets of my scrubs. The men had confiscated everything.

I sat up, breaking a cheap vase in the process.

Hearing scampering and rustling noises, I glanced at the corner of the room just in time to see a scaly tail disappearing behind a mimeograph machine.

A pair of beady eyes peered furtively at me from behind a pair of creepy ceramic dolls. A hairy black body jostled a pipe rack, knocking an ash filled corncob style to the floor with a noisy clatter. The pipe next to it, a faux calabash with a curving stem, wobbled uncertainly in its little slot.

The wild unfriendly looking creatures bared yellow fangs dripping with white saliva.

Rabies, I assumed.

Not wanting to fall over and foam at the mouth, I picked up an iron fireplace poker, creeping toward the door.

The floorboards creaked unpleasantly beneath my feet. The window panes rattled.

I heard a sound like footsteps in the hall. The floor groaned.

A rat came near, but I batted it away, causing it to retreat to a safer distance, at least, for a moment.

I saw nobody in the hallway, just a lot of clutter.

The wallpaper was faded and peeling, a greenish yellow print that looked like staring eyes, accented by a badly framed reproduction of Gainsborough's Blue Boy and a windmill in a similarly garish frame.

Across from me stood a closed white door with a decorative boat wheel propped up against it. A rotary dial telephone stood on a small lopsided white table with peeling legs, and, leaning on the wall, a framed print of deer grazing by a river.

I swung at a pair of rats coming at me from behind. They didn't retreat as much as I would have liked.

The phone rang.

I hesitated to answer. It was the style of phone nobody used anymore, and I didn't have anyone I wanted to talk to, at least, not on that. It could be a ghost, or some creepy government guy.

Still, I considered, what if David or someone else found a phone? Or Ernie?

The moment I picked up the receiver, the white door burst open, and a rat the size of a Newfoundland dog appeared, hissing and baring its teeth.

I raised the poker, but as it did, the rat's cheeks and throat swelled, projectile vomiting sticky white foam all over me.

I rammed the poker down its gullet, but its teeth hammered down on my arm as it died, and I had to pry its mouth apart to escape its clutches.

I staggered backwards, collapsing on the floor.

I convulsed, foaming at the mouth as the beast's smaller cousins encircled me.

[00000]

DOCUMENT ID #000810020257204: "Diary of Pillow Barnes" (Cont'd)

[00000]

Hearing a soft scraping noise, I glanced back at the table I'd placed the hat upon.

A white rabbit's head popped out from inside the yellow brim, wiggling its nose.

How was this possible? The prisoner in yellow was still in his cell!

...Or was he?

[00000]

DOCUMENT ID #000741011611602

(Elle's Journal - Cont'd)

[00000]

My eyelids cracked open, revealing a brilliant light.

My pupils focused. I had been stretched out in a comfortable padded chair, facing a huge telescope.

A wonderful kind of little observatory surrounded me, one with a hammock bed and an art studio.

Father always discouraged me from doing art. He said it was a waste of time, that nobody in the real world needed artists - there were too many of them. It was no place to start a career.

I'd make him Father's Day cards, then pretend not to notice when he tossed them into the trash a day later, but I still loved art.

Who lived in this place? It was everything I'd ever wanted in a house.

When I got up, I discovered an actual waterslide had been built into the wall, and, in the wall opposite, a roller coaster car!

I rubbed my eyes, wondering when this wonderful dream would end.

I looked down. To my delight, I found myself garbed in a silky white kimono, with beautiful images of cranes embroidered into it.

A Cairn Terrier nuzzled my leg. I always wanted a dog. Well, as long as it didn't look like that thing that bit me.

Hearing a commotion below me, I followed a spiral staircase into a big library filled with all manner of interesting books. I would have thumbed through a couple, but I wanted to investigate the noise first.

I found a den in the midst of these bookshelves, full of fine leather furniture, elegant tables, it even had a fireplace.

The crowd, not the decor fascinated me the most about this place. The moment I came close, they welcomed me, introducing me to all kinds of people, and creatures.

Shauqauzjarruba, Ernie's daughter, neck wrapped in a Christmas scarf. Maria, a white bug thing of Ernie's species, and a good friend of hers, apparently. There was Pain, Aquila, and a big scary looking monster that looked like queen Shasharmazorb. Her name was S'Caizlixadac Moyssuwoha, Ernie's mother.

Then there were the Sarahs, and me's. Children with identical faces and hair color, differentiated only by birthmarks and funny haircuts.

These things unsettled me, but I didn't get scared until I saw Morse and Shelly.

"You're dead," I told the man. "I saw you die."

"Through Christ, I have been made alive," he answered.

"Welcome to heaven," Shelly added.

I staggered away from her. "I'm...dead? That's what this is? I'm dead and this is heaven?"

"You have gone into cardiac arrest," said a voice behind me.

I spun around and saw a short haired man with Middle Eastern features, clad in jeans and a t-shirt.

I furrowed my brow, trying to identify him. "Who are you?"

"The one you just welcomed into your heart," he said.

That's when I noticed the nail holes in his wrists.

I kinda wanted to hug him, but didn't know if I should. "Thank you. I'm...glad to meet you."

I stared at the funny moose head on the wall behind him, one with antlers bent like the one on the Addams Family. "Whose house is this?"

"Yours," Jesus said.

"Mine?" I stammered. "This is mine?"

He smiled. "In my word, I have promised to prepare a home for my children. This one is yours."

"Child of God," I muttered. "So when do I reincarnate into my next life?"

I know, dumb question, but in my defense, my parents really didn't explain those things to me. They didn't tell me much about him, either.

"You don't. This is the only next life you will ever have. With me."

"If we don't have past lives, what are those people doing back at the program? They keep asking me for repressed memories."

"They are searching for something that doesn't exist."

"Some people say you don't exist."

"Are you one of those people?" he asked.

I reddened, suddenly feeling ashamed at my disrespect. "No."

The look on his face seemed to say, "Well then."

"So I'm never going to have the memories they want me to have."

"Not in the way they wish."

The dog had followed me downstairs. I picked it up and petted it, mostly to calm my nerves.

"So that's it, then. I died, and I'm going to spend the rest of...forever here, in this place."

"Would this displease you?"

I took a look at the strange but friendly faces surrounding me. I imagined they could be good friends. And if the rest of heaven is as fantastic as my house...

"No..."

"Then here you will stay," he said. "But not yet. Your cardiac arrest is only temporary."

"It sounds like I'll be back here in a couple minutes," I said. "Once they find out I can't remember, they'll kill me."

Jesus put his hand on my shoulder. "I will be with you."

Suddenly everything became light and foggy. I felt like I were drifting away.

"Can you at least help me escape that place? That prison?"

"My grace is sufficient for you."

Things got foggier. "Wait. Where's Lacey?"

The fog cleared before I could get an answer.

When the fog cleared, I found myself sprawled face down on the floor of that old house.

I coughed, then threw up right next to the giant dead thing.

The acid tore a hole in the mildewy carpeting, eating through the crooked weather bent boards beneath.

My stomach acid.

Did that.

When I sat up, I found myself surrounded by rats.

They stood motionless in attention, tiny eyes fixed on me, like little druids around a stone god.