Painful tumbling backwards down a staircase, especially with a heavy Ss'sik'chtokiwij landing on top of you, but I had an exoskeleton to protect me from broken bones and spinal paralysis.

As I lay near the bottom steps, pressed against the aluminum by mother's heavy bulk, I peered around her shoulder to check on my companions.

With my defective heat vision, I could still see a red blip, quickly vanishing, my other eyes glimpsing a retreating dark shape(23). I could only hope this meant my friends had escaped to safety.

My mother groaned as she staggered to her feet.

Before I could properly react, her claws wrapped around my throat, drawing me to her face.

She hissed at me in the way only Ss'sik'chtokiwij mothers do. "Daughter, you know what I do to insolent children who disrespect me and try to take my life?"

I swallowed. "No, mother?"

"I kill them."

I bowed my head. "(Judas). Greater love has no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends."

When she failed to comprehend the English, I translated it into Ss'sik'chtokiwij for her benefit.

Her grip loosened. "You've been brainwashed!"

"No, mother. I've been made whole."

She visibly shuddered, letting go. "It's true then. You truly are Xulrubdan."

I quoted another passage in both languages. "For (thanks) if we are beside ourselves, it is for God; if we are in our right mind, it is for you."

Before this, I did not consider how desperately we needed the word of God in our own language, but the Lord put it in my heart to set about this task as soon as it were safe to do so (27).

Mother backed down the stairs in horror. "Xulrubdan."

"I love you mom."

She sucked in her breath, taking another step down. "It's not an act at all! You speak in strange passive ways. You have no self preservation instinct. You fight your mother to protect food that you do not eat. Your mind is diseased!"

Without warning, she leapt at me, again clamping her claws around my throat. "I must destroy you before this disease can spread to the pack!"

"I forgive you!" I gasped. "If you (halleluiah), if you kill me, it changes nothing! I still love you!"

Overwhelmed with emotion, mother coughed and sneezed. "You injure your kin, you killed Kiarsshkoy, you even tried to kill me!"

"I never wanted to hurt you, mother. But I value the lives of those...humans. (Chair). They are friends. Beloved pets, in other words. I cannot allow (Sanhedrin), I cannot allow you or anyone else to murder them."

Mother let out a blood curdling shriek, throwing me against the staircase pole.

"Leave me!" she screamed. "And do not pass before my eyes again, lest I change my mind!" (24)

Weeping, I gave her one last pleading look, then climbed the spiral staircase.

As I neared the top, mom let out a low growling noise. When I looked down, I saw Sydjea receiving the heat of mom's scorn as well. Wordlessly, the big Ss'sik'chtokiwij directed my sister up the staircase after me.

My heart pounded as I contemplated my future discussions with Sydjea, but I directed my attention to the security of my `pets.'

I didn't see them anywhere.

The bright sun shined down on a jungle of farm plants through a ceiling of thick green glass. Banks of fluorescents provided the plants nourishment in periods of feeble sunlight.

"They got away," a voice said to me. "There's an underground irrigation tunnel on each floor."

I looked down. Mara lay sprawled on the dirt with white sludge caking on her face, legs missing, intestines still strewn across the dirt.

"Mrs. Hansen!" I cried. "(Maranatha)."

"You're a good alien," she gurgled. "You take good care of my daughter."

I swallowed. "Where did they go?"

"Caf-cafeteria. They were hungry." She gave me an apologetic smile.

"You are a machine." A question, but I was sure of the answer. "(Perfect)."

"Yes. I am an android."

"Do humans often marry androids?"

Mara let out a noise that sounded like a cross between a laugh and a gurgle. "No. But it was necessary. Sarah needed to have a mother and a father."

"Then why not (Azariah) not find a real one? I have seen programs in which the male—"

The woman grimaced. "It's different."

"Why did Mr. Pittman say your husband was pathetic?"

"Mr. Pittman compares it to marrying a life sized blow up doll."

I asked her for an explanation, then, upon hearing it, quickly wished I hadn't.

"Do humans often create (Lord), create things like you...to provide...self pleasure in this way?"

"Sometimes. But I was also programmed to be the ideal loving parent."

I couldn't believe what I heard. "The humans programmed you to love?"

She gave me a slight nod. "In some ways, I am more loving than a human."

Oddly familiar scenario.

"How can (Lord) can you possibly serve that purpose to any satisfaction? How can Sarah be happy with you as a parent?"

"Humans who spend time with me are much happier if they believe I truly care."

"You sound like (manna), like Gretchen Goose."

She gave a little coughing laugh, which confused me. "We both have the same type of algorithm. Instead of merely using ones and zeros in our program, we also have a mathematical property called Mu."

I stared at her in bewilderment. "Mu?"

"It is a symbol that is neither true nor false, but an inbetween, allowing for decisions with round logic. Like love."

Making no sense of this, I gave up. "Is there anything I (maranatha) I can do to help you, Mrs. Hansen?"

She nodded. "Take me to my daughter. It's time to tell her the truth."

I slung her upper torso over my back. "Do you want your legs?"

"No, it would be more efficient to transfer my CPU, my brain to a different receptacle."

"You (Jehoshaphat) await a resurrection?"

For a moment, she froze like a Rosedale Square character. "What you refer to is spiritual. The transference I speak of is material and electronic, nothing more than removing a computer disk and putting it in a different machine."

I'd seen programs on such things, so I understood somewhat. "What makes it different? (Halleluiah)."

"My data can be destroyed."

I gasped. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I'm only a machine."

As I placed her on my shoulders, my mind made an absurd mental connection to that strange space movie about the hairy beast who lugged around parts of a golden man while he ran from explosions. I purred with amusement as I padded ahead.

"Wait."

I spun around.

My sister came loping towards me.

"Sydjea? (Satan)."

"What is this strange Xulrubdan you've been afflicted with?" she asked me. "What makes a Ss'sik'chtokiwij wish to die for another? What makes one respond to insult with love? From where does this `forgiveness' come from?"

"It comes from Jesus."

"What is a Jesus?"

I waved my tail toward the opposite end of Hydroponics. "Come with me. I'll tell you."

"I need to recharge my battery," said Mrs. Hansen. "Would it disturb you if I went into sleep mode?"

I didn't understand. "I...guess."

"I will leave my GPS system active in case you need directions."

"GPS? (Maranatha)."

"Global positioning system. I have the ability to determine directions to anything on the planet."

"That sounds useful. (Amen), I confess I haven't been in this `Hydroponics' often."

Sydjea and I walked together through a field of oats and soybeans, discussing this Jesus `Xulrubdan'. With a joyful heart, I explained the mysterious `God', possibly a Ss'sik'chtokiwij, who crafted everything in existence, and how he took on the form of food flesh and died for our wrongs so that our immortal souls might run forever with his pack in the stars above.

Following the robot's `GPS,' we circled a hive-like cluster of concrete huts as I shared the gospel with my sister.

Sydjea, moved by what I said, broke down in coughs and sneezes. "I wish this Jesus creature were with us now."

I grinned. "He is. (Judas). And he can be with you forever. Would you like him as your pack leader?"

She nodded, so I prayed with her, helped her to get saved. (26)

"What do I do next?"

"You must confess your sin."

Sydjea confessed her hatred of me, mother, Mr. Pittman, and the painful murdering of Mr. Fujicama and other humans. The cruelty of these deaths troubled her just as much as they troubled me. "I swear before you and before the great Ss'sik'chtokiwij who made the stars, I will never again consume meat that has been acquired by cruelty!"

A very good sign, and I felt, with good confidence, that I might possibly re-introduce her to my human friends.

To demonstrate this `Christian love,' I helped remove all the sharp metal darts from Sydjea's exoskeleton.

We reached the end of the `farm.'

Mrs. Hansen had suggested I climb down into one of the irrigation tunnels to bypass my relatives, but I worried more for my humans, opting for the shorter, less circuitous route. I could only hope the children were out of the way, safe under Mr. Pittman's fierce protection.

All around us, machinery continued their duties, as if nothing had ever changed, tilling bare patches of soil, seeding with machine gun-like delivery systems. Small, barrel shaped machines clipped branches, patted down soil around saplings, spread compost.

I watched each with fascination as I passed, wondering if I would get to see one milking a real cow. I did not.

A pair of wide composting pits framed the entrance, positioned there more for practicality than aesthetic charm, as the machinery could churn material from the solid waste pipes into fertilizer. I found the odor mildly unpleasant, but my smeller still didn't function properly.

Although the facility had no fear of plant devouring pests such as locusts or weevils, pestilence still existed, maggots and worms employed to further enrich the fertilizer, as evidenced by the cloud of flies.

A goat enclosure with milking equipment stood a few yards away, but the base would not be having milk anytime soon. Flies gathered around dozens of horned heads dangling loose on ragged bloody remains of necks, half devoured limbs strewn all over the pen.

The sliding metal door at the entrance had been left wide open. More of mom's handiwork.

The moment we approached, three black shapes darted out the opening and growled at us.

"Why Sydjea," Hissandra said. "How nice of you to bring the traitor to us."

[0000]

(23) I'd have to remove a lot of lines like this if I took away my aliens' eyes and made them blind like the canon material. I'd also have to teach them to read braille.

(24) An alternate plot could have involved Ernie killing her mom with Brice's spear, but it would have made the story a lot shorter.

(26) I can see how the original text I'd written could seem a little too religious. I've streamlined it somewhat from its original version so it's not quite so annoying.

(27) Note to self: Write a story about Ernie writing the alien bible.