It's doubtful that anyone will find the words I just wrote, or read them. MM7 and the Corporation will probably make sure their record is stricken from whatever constitutes the web these days, the servers pressured to hide this material from anyone but those who know what they're looking for, and can afford a libel suit.

Still, I must write these words down somewhere, or go mad.

The average speaking speed of a human being is 120 words per minute. An auctioneer can double this speed, but meaning and content often gets lost.

If one word equals a byte of computer memory, that's only 0.12 kilobytes or 0.00012 megabytes.

If Ernie and I only had a conversation for ten minutes, without stopping for breath, we'd maybe share 1080 words, the equivalent of 0.00108th of a megabyte. A one to two hour movie is approximately 4 gigabytes. In terms of our `one word equals one byte' analogy, we'd need to say four million words to convey all the information I needed about Ripley's life.

We only had nine minutes.

Fortunately for us, our brains were networked, transferring information at the speed of thought. We could send pictures, feelings, sounds and smells to each other, packets of data that arrived in our consciousness before we even knew we requested them. Or, more often than not, before we knew we didn't.

Before I could even string together the words in my mind, Ernie already knew that I wanted her to skip over her time in the Fiorina 161 prison colony, and move on to something I didn't know about. It was that fast.

The thoughts held a bias, and pain.

My first instinct had been to stretch a framework around the memories of this Ellen Ripley, try to steer it into a human perspective, but Ernie warned me against this. "We waste time. Take the memories as they are, parse them later. Your Spanish teacher told you about a `Spanish brain' one where you shut off all English thought and process the words through a Spanish lens. This is your Ss'sik'chtokiwij brain."

And so I let Ernie's memories of Ripley wash over me, letting them be as they were.

Other images flashed in between, as the mind tends to wander. I learned about the cult that killed so many on the Hadley's Hope colony, I learned about Newt, and Ernie's children. I felt my faith deepening as I witnessed my friend's Christian example.

Our mental connection ended abruptly with the sound of an alarm clock, the cacophony of men yelling in Spanish, the tossing of waves, and the hum of a boat motor.

I heard the rattling crack of machine gun fire. Explosions. I sat up with a start.

The ssujmarrux tentacles felt weird and uncomfortable crawling out of my nose.

My eyes focused the dark blur looming over me into the skeletal shape of my alien friend, then my immediate surroundings.

I lay on the sun deck of a large yacht motoring past the sinking remains of the main Disney barge, amidst several of my close friends. In the distance, I could see the Ariel, far from shore, surrounded by an armada of black boats and squadrons of helicopters.

On one side of the conflict, I saw the U.S. flag. On the other, the green and red of Mexico. Mexico appeared to be winning.

You know how they say not to bring a knife to a gunfight? That pretty much describes Disney and their American military backup. Ninety percent personnel carriers, intended for recapturing the children and wiping out our team on foot with a minimum of damage to property. Mexico had Apaches. With rocket launchers.

You can't minimize the importance of the Mexican aquatic fleet, with their LAW rifles, antiaircraft guns and hull piercing automatics. Disney fought fiercely on the open sea, but the sight of their helicopters turning into a ball of fire and dropping into the water struck a demoralizing blow. That, and the helicopter attacks on their puny little patrol boats.

Luke let out a frustrated growl in frustration as I pulled him away from my chest, setting him on the deck.

I had quite a crowd with me, much to my dismay.

Golic, his followers, and some converted children knelt next to me, wishing to be close to their god.

There was Eight (he seemed to like me for some reason), and Big Bird, still a Furby.

Lacethanny stood next to the cultists, chewing on a chicken leg.

I saw Ippi, Ssunamrozedrah and Estalix, all three of them having vested interest in me and my ability to get them into space...and Mr. Hattam, who, I'm assuming, had a vested interest in Ippi.

I flinched as water exploded south of the stern, like we had been seen and fired upon.

Weyland squatted next to me. "Relax. We're cloaked."

"What's going on?"

"I have some connections in Latin American industry. I pulled a few strings and called in military support."

"Ernie's larva was in the boat-"

"I know. I'm taking every single one of them back to my island for further study."

"What did you do with the kids? I mean, the ones that...aren't crazy."

"I made good on my side of the agreement. I have a number of them loaded on the airbus, traveling back to the island as we speak. There's a program for them. You may not like it, but at least they won't be abused on a whim, and never sexually."

"They could still die."

He shrugged. "We all die eventually."

"What kind of program will they be in?"

The man frowned. "You misunderstand our relationship."

"You're not going to tell me."

He didn't reply.

"I thought you said Mexico was a dirty country."

"It is. But by now I'm certain you know that America isn't exactly clean."

Xavier leaned over me. "I noticed you were able to bring...Luke to us alive. Is it possible for you to retrieve the others in a similar fashion?"

I glanced at Ssunamrozedrah, but she was shaking her head no.

"Where's the rest of your team?"

"Rosa and Smithson are on the Ariel. You must have impressed Mr. Lennox, because he's helping out. Ms. Baker came along, of course." He cleared his throat. "The job isn't quite finished. We have reason to believe Sil has at least one more descendant crawling around loose somewhere. We desperately need your help."

"Is this required for our passage to the island?" Ssunamrozedrah asked.

"Yes," Weyland answered.

"Explain to us why we can't just kill you and go there ourselves, without you."

"I am a useful hostage. You will find your entry to the island...challenging."

"We could take you to the island, without this baby."

"I wouldn't if I were you. Again, I'm only a piece of the company. You'll need to impress the board if you want to get what you're after. Anyway, you'll probably want to check the facility before it sinks. There could be parts you can use to repair your ship."

Ssunamrozedrah sighed and nodded.

"All right," I groaned. "I guess, compared to Sil, this should be a cake walk...where's Josh and Kamara?"

The two appeared from below decks, clad in matching Equality prep school uniforms. Kamara had thoughtfully drawn a line through the yellow equals sign with a shiny gold permanent marker, signifying `does not equal.'

"You can't get rid of us that easy," she said to me.

Caitlyn came up the small staircase behind them, waving at me.

"You guys shouldn't be here," I protested. "You're just going to get caught again."

"I'm a little more devious than you give me credit for," Kamara said. "Before I got transferred to the boat, a couple of our jailers met wit mysterious accidents. I'm not saying it was me or Josh, but we might be able to take care of ourselves."

"You didn't do so well with Mr. Hampton," I argued.

"Well, I actually wanted to study the man a little, you know, to see who he was connected to, and if he had any weaknesses I could use to my advantage."

"Did you?" I said.

"Let's just say I had a lot of ideas. Even if it meant you surrendering the ship."

I gave her a scolding look. "Or you getting your head blown open."

"I knew you'd do the right thing. I trust you more than I've ever trusted anyone else. That's saying a lot." Her facial expression told me that she meant every word. She'd been willing to put her life in my hands without a second thought.

We motored up to the sinking theme park. Once or twice I would see a giant white muscular tentacle appear at the side of the structure, but I dismissed it as being some Pirates of the Caribbean prop gone haywire.

Weyland offered me a neoprene wetsuit and scuba gear, but I doubted I'd need either. I donned them anyway, staring at the surreal environment that lay before me.

It reminded me of videos I'd seen of the Hurricane Katrina disaster...if the Category 3 happened outside Storybook Land...German hamlets with three to six feet of water running through their streets, depending on elevation. Their version of Venice looked like, well, nothing but gondolas and rooftops.

Spaceship Earth had somehow broken free from its moorings, and now slowly took in water like a trash can thrown into a swimming pool. It probably would have continued drifting along the surface of the water forever, like a discarded beach ball, if it hadn't had an open base with rides inside.

"Let's split up," Weyland said as we neared the partially submerged Haunted Mansion.

I stared at the Victorian roof with its pointy wrought iron crown pieces, wondering if Gomez Addams had been up there all day sharpening them with a file. "You want me to check here?"

The building let out a gurgling moan, like the spirits of drowned people were trying to scare me away.

"Don't tell me you're afraid of ghosts."

"No. Aren't you afraid I'll swim away?"

He laughed. "Where would you go? Even if you did manage to escape me, your friends may not take too kindly to your desertion. I hear their noses are just as good as yours."

"And where will you be going?"

Weyland shrugged. "Chinatown."

And so I wandered the flooded park.

I must have swam for hours. I actually did use the diving equipment, searching this or that building that seemed to contain Sil's scent, but for the most part, the inspection was visual, as the water kept washing the traces away. I basically relied on Luke to locate his brothers and sisters.

Although ever distracted by the myriad of amusements that caught his attention, I thought for sure he would wander off, but I never had to worry about losing him. His fear of abandonment kept him paddling after me whenever I feigned to leave him.

The air mostly held Apaches now, the number of the U.S. choppers dwindling as they fell flaming into the water. I could see people being thrown from the top deck of the boat, more often white faced men in skirts rather than our brown allies. The gunshots and massive explosions, however, left the situation ambiguous, as far as who held the upper hand.

The boats, having depleted their stronger weapons, now picked away at each other with items of lesser power, prolonging the conflict.

A robotic elephant from the extinct animals exhibit drifted past me.

I found Sil's other baby floating on a four poster bed in the middle of Dinotopia. The heads of waterlogged Brachiosaurus robots moved their eyes in our direction, mutely opening their mouths as I approached the bed.

Due to Sil's unstable genetics, this baby didn't look anything like Luke. Instead, it had six hairy legs like a spider, and six eyes on its otherwise ordinary human baby face...with mandibles.

The six legs had the thickness of human baby arms, giving the impression of a complete upper torso, but the lower half was just a spider's abdomen.

Seeing Luke, the spider thing gave me a hopeful look that meant, `Are you my new mommy?'

I smiled and held the creature, trying to ease it into the water so it could swim with us, but it was too afraid, so I just paddled the bed along like a boat.

A fiberglass Dumbo, still attached to a ride, poked its head out of the water, making him look like a novice swimmer trying to get that last desperate gulp of air before sinking for the last time.

Feeling my wetsuit vibrating, I unzipped and pulled out the phone, praying it was waterproof.

When I pushed talk, I found Weyland's face staring at me. In the background of the man's image, I could see only a wall wrapped in Flexo prints of a pixellated brick pattern. "Find anything?"

"Yeah. Where are you?"

"The Nintendo area. I think one of the babies is hiding in a secret warp zone."

"Be over in a few."

I towed the bed through Wonderland, which now resembled that scene in the story where Alice cries and floods the building, giant teacups, saucers and fiberglass animals drifting around in the murky water, awaiting the caucus race and `dry stories.' I shoved a floating dodo aside and kept moving.

The phrase "Mad as a hatter" comes from the mercury poisoning that once came with the craft of hat making. As a giant hat with the card reading 10/6 drifted past me, I absently pondered the meaning of this, and why it was never mentioned in any of the stories, and how this hat couldn't possibly have the correct measurement.

Tweedledum had gone solo, taking on the appearance of a fishing bobber in the water.

I crossed into a new zone, wading past brown-white Super Mario Goombas, upside down turtles, and an Italian plumber in green overalls floating face down.

Half submerged capsule shaped buildings with smiley faces on them, enormous mushrooms and modular trees, all mired in flood water...The debris conjured up images of a larger than life jumping and stomping adventure gone awry.

Our yacht had been tied to the corner of a stylized cartoony looking pipeworks, fake olive green plastic plumbing of varying shapes and sizes poking out of a pixel block cube. Plastic blocks wrapped with 8-bit brick patterns, question marks and the word `POW' drifted around the yacht like mines.

I saw some of my associates, but Ssunamrozedrah, Estalix, Xavier, Lacethanny and some of Golic's gang were missing, presumably still out searching for the babies or ship parts.

Eight, looking ridiculous in neoprene, waded around the pipeworks with his HK 91 and a blowtorch, peering into the open tubes with annoyance. "It's not coming out. I'm going to seal off these pipes and drop a grenade inside. Would you mind standing on the other side to make sure it doesn't escape?"

Then, noting how bad that sounded, I guess, he added, "I'm serious. I think it will try to run out before I can kill it. You think you can do that and not get hurt?"

"Wait. You don't need to kill it."

I approached the piece of faux digital landscape, peering in a pipe.

The baby bared its fangs at me, then sniffed and wiggled into the light.

A long and snake-like body, rather like an ermine, in a way. Instead of fur, it had plates covered in something like quills, making it resemble one of those bristly things you use to clean the blinds and ceiling fans with. It had a humanoid feline face, no nose.

"Come to me," I said, spreading my arms wide.

The creature gave a mewling whimper, then jumped into my arms so suddenly that I thought it intended to attack me.

Instead, it just nuzzled against me and purred.

Weyland applauded me from the deck. "Terrific work, Ellen. I'm very proud of you."

He gestured to the boat. "C'mon. It's time to go."

"Wait. What about the others?"

"Don't worry. We won't leave without them."

We did not immediately leave for the island. Instead, we took the yacht to the warehouse, to see about the spaceship repairs.

Sil's babies had hissed and pressed close to me when they first met my friends, but after awhile they relaxed a bit, and I didn't have to scold them any.

While on the yacht, they seemed ready to attack the humans, but Xavier, thinking quickly, had provided them with some raw meat from the freezer, and they appeared to lose their murderous tendencies.

The Yautja vehicle contained repair machinery, but they had to patch up sections of the hull with metal from the cargo containers and a neighboring scrapyard.

The damage hadn't been entirely external, so they also had to replace equipment, and when it couldn't be replaced with spares from the hold, using the ship's battered computer to determine how to create an effective substitute. Big Bird and Mara worked together on that part, recovering information from circuits and chips so broken that Ssunamrozedrah had given up on them.

It took a long time, but our mission had been accomplished, so to speak, so we had the luxury.

I had nothing to contribute to this project, and even if I had a useful skill and could facilitate the repairs, I wouldn't have volunteered. In fact, being in no rush to get back, I even unplugged a few cables when no one was looking.

I climbed to the top of a stack of cargo containers, gazing out at the ocean as I contemplated my future.

A warm comfortable breeze wafted in from the southeast. Sil's babies huddled around me, so calmed by my presence that they drowsed against my body.

More than anything, I wanted to see the Homeschooler colonies, where people of the faith still existed, without a computerized Big Brother watching me all the time, but would they accept these alien babies?

Would they even accept me, once they found out I wasn't all human?

But what could I do? Go back to that horrible island with all its schemes and deadly traps?

I couldn't just stay in America, either. I'd never fit in.

I curled into a ball, sobbing into my arms until Sil's babies whimpered and cried along with me.

You have to be a woman now, I told myself, taking several deep breaths.

"We have to get to that ship," I said, more to comfort myself than the babies. "If we can just get into space, get to Pillow's planet, or Ernie's..."

I petted and cuddled the babies, held each to my chest. "We'll find a way off this God forsaken rock. You'll see."

The breeze shifted direction, mingling the salt tang of the sea with the vile odors of death and war. Gunpowder, the overpowering chemical smells of burning rubber, plastic, paint and metallic compounds, the porcine whiff of roasting human flesh.

The Ariel was sinking. Disney had called in reinforcements, and they had driven the Mexicans back. Things didn't look good.

"The airbus was cloaked," Kamara said as she climbed up to join me. "We managed to fit more than a hundred of them in there, depositing them into temporary housing at the Phyxo complex until we can figure out what to do with them. We've since smuggled in about four hundred more. The whole building's on lockdown to make sure none of the brats run out. Their chips are being recoded so Disney can't find them."

"Sounds like a madhouse," I muttered.

"You'd be surprised how well behaved a kid can be when you threaten to take them back to the people that abused them."

"There were more than five hundred on that ship."

"We have a submarine. Our magician friend did a few tricks and made it disappear, with a few hundred more onboard. We've also got a Disney boat, which we used to make a few hundred more vanish.

"The rest, well, we got them to either swim to shore (a lot of them got caught that way, they were basically a distraction) or climb into the storage containers to await our sub to rescue them from the bottom of the Strait."

"That last one doesn't sound safe."

"They're all unsafe, but the containers were designed to hold quote-unquote `valuable' Disney memorabilia. Once we tossed out all those prints and DVD's, we had a roomy airtight sort of diving bell."

"Or a coffin."

"Maybe. The point is, this only looks like a defeat."

I stared into my friend's eyes. "Have you been...hurt? By those men?"

"Raped, you mean."

I gave her a look that said, "Well? Were you?"

Kamara shook her head. "I guess I lucked out. Some of those other girls, though..."

"What about Josh?"

"No," the boy said as he climbed up to join us. "A guy tried, but I shot his ass full of drugs. Literally. I got hell of a beating when they found his dead body, but it was worth it. They didn't mess with me on the upper deck."

It was then that I noticed the welts around his neck, the bruises along the back of his arms.

The two kids held hands.

"Estalix is still looking for his Qorkuce," Kamara said. "He says you might have it."

I pretended not to hear.

She cleared her throat. "You know, there's a bible verse that says something like `When I was a child, I thought like a child and reasoned like a child, but when I became an adult, I put aside those childish things.' I'm not sure I phrased it correctly, but..." She held out her hand.

With a sigh, I handed over the chunk of metal.

I glanced at her bandages. "You think you'll ever use your Afexun account again?"

"Why?" she laughed. "You want it?"

I just stared at her. "You're not going to use it anymore?"

"It's just a tool, Ellie." Then she smirked. "Plus you lose points if you do things like this..."

She kissed Josh full on the mouth.

When she pulled away, Josh gasped, "I think I like losing points!"

"Do me a favor," I said. "Keep it innocent. Save the adult stuff for when you're actually adults."

"We'll try," Kamara said.

She smiled and dragged the boy down to the warehouse.

I tried to take solace in the ocean view, like before, but the sights of the battle, the sinking boat, and the things Kamara had discussed with me had caused my thoughts to become unquiet. I gave it up and climbed back down to the ground.

I flinched as I saw Eight approaching.

"Mrs. Hannigan is looking for you," he said. And then, in a way that seemed more than a little melodramatic, "I've been looking for you too."

"You...have?" I stammered with discomfort.

The smile he gave me seemed unnatural on his bulldog face. I squirmed at the thought of what he might want. "I just wanted to say that you're an amazing fighter, and I like you a lot. And I'm not saying that just because you're sexy looking."

I cringed, at a loss for how to respond.

"Sorry. I'm...not good at this kind of thing. I just wanted to say, you know, that you were, well, amazing. The combat, the skill you have with animals...very, uh, cool."

"Uh, thanks."

I could guess what he might want to ask me next, but something more important had to be put on the table. "Did you kill my parents?"

"I shoot a lot of people."

I hated him for saying that, but I realized that this actually came out of my own self loathing.

He must have noticed my furious glare, for then he blurted, "What did they look like?...Your parents..."

Holding back the angry tears, I described them to him.

He sighed, looking...almost apologetic. "That was Sixteen. I only cut off the alien lady's tail."

"Eight, that doesn't exactly make you much better than the other guy."

"It's Eleven," he said with a bashful expression. "Look. I know it's not the best excuse to say that I was only following orders, but I was afraid of what would happen to me if I disobeyed the boss. I think you know what that feels like."

I didn't answer because I did. I just didn't want to admit it.

"I guess that's a `no' on going out, huh?"

"I'm sorry. I'm not really comfortable with that."

"With me? Or dating in general?"

I couldn't do this anymore. I got away from him in a hurry.

"There you are!" Susan said as I turned the corner.

I stopped in my tracks, trying to formulate an appropriate excuse.

"What you did was very dangerous," she scolded. "With all that running around you've been doing, I'm surprised you haven't completely pulled your sutures and died by now. If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to examine you, just to make sure everything is still fine."

I fidgeted nervously. "You're not going to cut me open, are you?"

"Actually, I have something a little more sophisticated in mind."

The Yautjas had a medical station off to one side of the bridge, and Mrs. Hannigan somehow understood enough about it to make it work.

It did not look like a place in which one would receive healing or medical services. The aliens kept supplies in unmarked metal cabinets, and everything looked pretty much like everything else, except for the labels, row upon row of rectangular metal containers the size and shape of a box of spaghetti and stacks of smaller silver objects that appeared, at first glance, to be foil wrapped packs of cigarettes with the labeling removed.

The examination table, if it could be described as such, hadn't been designed for comfort, a spartan piece of metal furniture with no padding, suitable, I suppose, for a patient with a stoic bent, and a tough spinal column. They also had a scary thing that looked like a dentist's chair. I still couldn't decide if this were a place of medicine, or torture and interrogation.

Mrs. Hannigan told me to lay down on that...sheet of metal, taking out a tiny robotic thing that looked like a cross between a shrimp and a robotic silverfish.

I eyed the device with suspicion. "What's that?"

She took out a small green device that, at first glance, appeared to be a Tiger Electronics handheld game, but with a complicated array of alien buttons and switches. "It's...a diagnostic tool. It's non invasive. I've tested it on the dead Yetiyeehah and a German Shepherd. I was actually able to perform microsurgery and remove small cancerous masses from the dog's prostate."

I gawked at her. "So it's not dangerous."

"It's as dangerous as an MRI or a CT scan. The worst thing about it is the sensation of the thing crawling down your throat, but I've gotten some practice steering it around the uvula, so that should spare you the stomach upset.

"A smaller bug comes out of it, about the size of a blood cell. I still don't understand why the antibodies don't attack it."

"Did you use that thing when you operated on my heart?"

"No, I just learned how to use it a few hours ago. I didn't know I'd be curing Max of cancer until I found the little tumors. Ordinarily you have to wait for them to get larger, and either remove the whole organ or blast the prostate with radiation, but with this thing I just sort of dissolved them."

I still felt nervous about this. "And you just learned by trial and error?"

"The device is a little like Pillow's Rukbasomething, which I have extensive training in, and there's a computer program, so I wasn't completely in the dark. Plus I had people helping me."

Thinking about the dog, I said, "Has your...tool been sterilized?"

"Naturally. I am a medical professional."

I laid down and let her drop the squirming machine down my throat.

"There was an old lady who swallowed a spider," Susan muttered as she pushed buttons on the handheld. "It wiggled and jiggled and tickled inside her."

Sil's babies, well, I guess, my babies now, appeared to be attached to me, refusing to leave my presence, even for a moment. They laid against me as the machine crawled down my throat, Luke resting on my breast. "Are they going to interfere with the...scans?"

"I...don't think so."

"Do I need to breathe a certain way or anything?"

Sue shook her head. "Just relax."

Eleven, who had been watching me, gestured to my `adopted children'. "You, uh, think you might need to breastfeed these things sometime?"

I grimaced in disgust. "Ugh! Go away!"

When he didn't leave, I made shooing motions.

At last he did, looking a little ashamed and disappointed.

"You generally need to give birth before you can lactate," Susan said. "If you're human, that is. Have you ever given birth?"

"No."

She chuckled. "We can try some infant formula."

"I saw them eating meat."

"Well, I don't know if that's good for them, or what nutrients they might be getting, or still lacking. I don't think it would hurt to try some formula, if only to supplement their diet." She continued working with the scanner.

Mr. Weyland, who had previously been rubbing his eyes and muttering about blurry vision, walked up to the table, staring over Susan's shoulder at me. "Sil's babies seem quite taken with you. Do you see raising them as part of your long term goals?"

I glared at the man. He separates me from my parents and then kills them as part of some stupid test, and yet he still talks to me like we're friends. "Why does it matter? You didn't let Pillow raise hers."

"That was different. She had a man. Regardless of what I decide to do, I want to know what your intentions are."

"What, so you can use them as a bargaining chip?"

"Ellen. What I want to know is if a young woman like yourself, who just got her first taste of freedom, seriously intends to saddle herself down with three kids from your enemy's loins."

I gave him a skeptical look. "Are you volunteering to take them off my hands?"

He shrugged. "Only if you want me to."

I just stared at him speechlessly.

"I know. Children are a lot of responsibility. I've had three of them myself. It's not an easy decision."

Honestly, I didn't want them. It was too much responsibility. And I wanted to escape from all his missions and games and schemes. The man had been at least partially responsible for my parents' deaths, ad forgiving that was hard.

But on the other hand, the creatures were starved for affection, and I was the only `mommy' with the guts and the armor plating to be an adequate mother to them.

"Think about it. Let me know what you decide."

"You wouldn't...kill them, would you?"

He shook his head. "I'd much rather keep them for study, possibly see what applications I can find for them."

"Military applications. As soldiers."

He only had to give me a look, and I knew that was the objective. "If you can keep them docile, you have my word that they won't be harmed."

It depends on how you define harm, I thought with a frown. "I'll have to give this some thought."

"Take all the time you need."

"Where's Thonwa?"

For a moment, Weyland gave me a blank look, then..."The flying ladybug?" He paused. "We have her in cold storage, in the basement of the Phyxo building. We'll transport her back to the island once these children have been situated."

"I want to see her."

"I'm sorry. That's not a good idea. We need to keep a low profile or Disney Corporate will find us. It's difficult enough to stay off MM7's radar as it is. Plus, the creature's life is in a delicate balance right now. We don't want any contamination or temperature changes until we begin medical procedures."

"Why did you kill my parents?"

"You're the one that killed them, Ellen. You were ordered to do something, and you failed to do it."

I sat up and punched him in the face.

As he held his bloody nose, I snarled, "You failed to get out of the way."

Susan scowled at the device, then at me. "Please, lay still. You're jostling the spider."

She shot Weyland an apologetic glance. "She's probably cranky because of all the stress and not resting enough. Hold your nose shut, that should stop the bleeding."

I did what Mrs. Hannigan asked and laid back down.

"You still need me to get back to the island," Weyland said as he followed the woman's instructions, his voice taking on a nasal quality that was almost humorous.

"Do I?" I said. "Because I think you're just saying that to everyone so they won't kill you. Mr. Yutani is dead. As far as I can tell, you're running the show."

He dabbed his nose with a cloth. "That's where you're wrong. If you don't believe me, ask anyone on the island about The Rook."

"That's just a meaningless symbol you made up to confuse people. You put it in places for me to see, to think I have some friend on the outside. It's just a shell game, and I'm not playing it."

He looked like he were about to argue the contrary.

"You're the head of the biggest robotics company in the world. I've seen your symbol on every android I've ever encountered since we left the island. Your name. Your symbol. Half of them are modeled with your face."

Blood trickled down his lip as he let go of his nose. "You're confusing the company with the bank. You know nothing about DAMBALLAH. The tail of the snake is not the snake itself." He pinched his nostrils shut again. "I'd expect much more gratitude from you, considering how I just saved your whole army of brats from a rather unpleasant imprisonment. Now, if you'll excuse me, my nose is gushing blood."

As he walked away, I felt a sinking in the pit of my stomach.

What if Weyland really was only a pawn? If so, who was in charge?

And how could I defeat an enemy I didn't even know?

"God," Susan murmured as she stared at the screen. "It doesn't even look like the same heart."

"Are the sutures still in there?"

Susan frowned. "They are, but it looks like you've had them in there for weeks! I think you must have angels watching over you."

"That's great. Are you done yet?"

She sighed. "I need to get that...thing out of you. Be just a minute."

Susan nearly gagged me getting the machine back out.

"Sorry. I shouldn't have hurried it so much. Still, I've done worse. Maxy left a mess on the floor when I was done with him."

Seeing a white Ss'sik'chtokiwij larva chewing a rib bone on the floor, I got up off the table, approaching her. "Is it true what they said? Did you just basically wander around and eat?"

"Well," Lacethanny said. "I did try to look, but I couldn't find anything, so I got a good look at all the neat things and ate until I was stuffed."

Before I could properly react, I found myself being slammed into a wall, with a knife pressed against my throat.

An angry mouse-like face breathed heavily into mine, body hair tickling my skin in itchy ways.

"You gleenzagteb with us, Ss'sik'chtokiwij bitch? Throw a little monkey wrench into the works so we can hang out in this little shithole for a few more hours?"

I swallowed and lied to her. "No."

The blade pressed deeper. "I think you lie to me. I think you lie like that dead Christian princess I used to impersonate. Your religion is a crock of shit. How about we find out how deeply I cut your neck before that steaming acid blood actually starts gushing? I bet I can get a pretty good flow going before it starts burning me!"