Saying a quick prayer for a peaceful resolution without bloodshed, I leapt at the spiny headed Sanchirck the second I saw her claws digging into Mr. Hernandez's flesh. The android fell off my back again, of course, but I paid her no mind. Mara was not edible. "Turn away from this vile wickedness, sister! And do not seek (angel), do not seek to gratify the body and its desires! Your god is your belly, and it should not be thus!"
"You speak like a human, so you shall die like a human!" Sanchirck raked a claw across my dome.
My human friend wasn't stupid. The moment my sister became dislodged from his person, he got up and ran.
Hissandra grabbed me by the throat and tried to choke me, rolling me over on my back.
"I'll go get the fat one!" pebbly shelled Ahxalybij said to my attacker. "You get Sh'kassk'dwuissueblik out of the way."
For a split second, Sanchirck turned her head. "Don't take all the good pieces!"
"Don't worry. I'll save you a drumstick."
"Give the shins to Hissandra. I want a thigh!" Sanchirck's face plate turned to face me again, making sure I didn't pull any tricks.
Nodding, Ahxalybij hurried after Mr. Hernandez, and Sanchirck set about beating me with her fists and clawing my dome. I hit my sister, attempting to shove her off, but she only clawed me some more.
"You'll be lucky to get a drumstick," Hissandra said to Sanchirck. "I should leave you the head."
My attacker stopped, pinning my arms to the floor. "The head! Nobody eats the head!"
"Exactly," Hissandra purred.
Sanchirck let out a string of Ss'sik'chtokiwij curse words as she fought to keep me pinned down. "Fine! I'll have the drumsticks."
"I knew you would see it my way."
Hissandra scampered out of my field of vision.
As Sanchirck's claws slashed deep into my face plate, Sydjea jumped in to attack her, but Sanchirck, more strongly muscled, tossed her aside.
"Sydjea! Leave me! Go help Boger! (Angel)!" Noting a look of bafflement, I added, "The human!" Sanchirck's claws clutched my throat again, attempting to crush my windpipe.
Slamming her head against a wall (I would have thrown her from the balcony, but I wasn't close enough), I tugged the corner of Mr. Hernandez's supply cart closer to me, grabbing the first thing within reach: A pile of blue cleaning rags.
Sanchirck pinned my arm down. I resorted to kicking her between the legs.
Not as clever as you think. Our exoskeletons don't feature much of anything sensitive to kick down there. It worked better in the movies.
I ripped at Sanchirck's face until I had both arms free, then reached back into the cart.
My claws closed around a metal cylinder, something called `Scrubbing Bubbles,' covered in images of little half circles with faces on them.
I swung the can, smashed it against Sanchirck's head, rammed the end into her face plate.
Sssssss. Something blue sprayed out the end.
When she tried to bite me, I shoved the object into her mouth.
So much foam poured out that she looked rabid.
I laughed, running away as she spat out mounds of blue goop.
My spiny headed sister tackled me against the cart with so much force that it toppled over, spilling janitorial supplies everywhere. A screwdriver rolled through a slat in the balcony railing, dropping to the floor below.
Sydjea struggled to force Ahxalybij off her chest as claws ripped into her head. Mr. Hernandez ran for his life.
Sanchirck, noting my distraction, attempted to claw off my brain patches.
I hit my sister across the face with a pair of channel locks that had fallen from the cart.
Whilst she recovered from the initial stun, I took the tool in both claws and struck her head with a baseball swing.
Sanchirck landed sideways on the floor, unhurt, for she just rose to her feet and shook it off.
I threw her into the rail, banging her head against the metal. The fasteners groaned in protest as the supports became ever so slightly disengaged from the concrete.
Mr. Hernandez cried out in pain. "İDios mio!"
Hissandra had gotten to him, tearing bloody slashes across his chest.
"Mr. Hernandez!" I yelled.
Sanchirck struck me in the head with my own weapon.
Where we lay, I had nothing of much use against my foe. Rags, little plastic sealed alcohol sponge things they use to clean that device they used instead of toilet paper, and several strange squishy `feminine products.'
Sydjea still kept Ahxalybij busy, preventing her from attacking my friend, but I still needed to stop Hissandra.
I tried to throw Sanchirck over the rail, but she was too heavy, so I beat her head against it, she in turn bashing mine, dropping my channel locks in the process. A couple of her spiny growths broke off as they hit the slats. The railing wobbled but held.
"You are not a Ss'sik'chtokiwij!" Sanchirck growled as she rammed me into the rail again. "You lost that privilege when you became a human lover and killed Kiarsshkoy!"
"What mortal Ss'sik'chtokiwij think of me matters not. I desire only (hosanna) the praise of the Almighty—"
Sister hit me in the face before I could finish.
I snatched up the channel locks, lashing out.
She melted the heavy part of the weapon with spit, knocked it out of my claws.
I grabbed her head, but when I did, she opened her mouth, snapping at me with her suaakudsi.
Although handy for me to break hers off like I did Kiarsshkoy, I hesitated as I thought about the anger and suffering it would cause.
She must have had similar thoughts, for she quickly retracted the organ and throttled me.
"İChingan Marsianos!" I heard Boger yelling.
Hissandra shrieked.
The man had just cut a line across her dome with a box cutter.
I rolled just in time to dodge a crushing overhead blow from the channel locks.
When I tackled Sanchirck against the rail this time, it bent on its supports.
The box cutter, in retrospect, hadn't been the best idea. Mr. Hernandez screamed as Hissandra's acidic blood sprayed his hand. "İMierda!"
Boger sprayed my sister's open wounds with the powerful toilet bowl sanitizer he used on our sewage grates. Hissandra roared in agony.
Sydjea and Ahxalybij still fought, growling and wrestling, brutally beating each other.
My head got knocked into the railing again. The metal groaned, bending at forty five degree angle.
"You are ssogdisfi!" Sanchirck screamed. (Ssogdisfi is our word for excrement). "You are worse than ssogdisfi! You are the barely visible insect that clings to ssogdisfi!"
"Must we resort to obscenity and name calling? Couldn't we just stop (lord) this fighting and half a calm rational discussion about the subject?"
"You do not talk to me!" Sanchirck struck me. "You lost your right to Cunupra when you killed Kiarsshkoy!"
Cunupra means `tribal communion,' harmonious, peaceful communication with other Ss'sik'chtokiwij.
"I do not need it. I Cunupra with God!"
"I will send you to meet this `God'!" And she choked me again.
I fought back, shoving her into the rail. A handful of her spikes bent and broke off as the railing angled ninety degrees.
Understanding what I intended to do, Sanchirck pulled me into a roll, attempting to fling me off the edge first.
We struggled, clawing and punching each other, supported by nothing but a handful of shiny silver slats.
I rolled and kicked, trying hard to throw her below, not to kill her, but to get her out of the way. She in turn made an effort to throw me.
I wiggled sideways, attempted a throw, but Sanchirck rolled onto her back, and half my body dangled in the air as I landed on the railing's far end.
Using my sister's body to claw my way back up, I kicked her, pushed her to the edge, but she grabbed me, hurling me sideways again.
No section of rail to land on this time. I fell.
In midair, I caught hold of Sanchirck's tail, putting my full weight upon it as I pulled myself up.
Sanchirck punched and kicked, attempting to knock me off, but I stubbornly refused to let go.
The combined stress on the railing caused it to bend further downwards.
"I'm doing you a favor," Sanchirck said to me. "Instead of killing you like I originally planned, I'll just drop you downstairs. Leave us alone, we'll leave you alone. Understand?"
"No (Amen)! Not while you endanger—"
Sanchirck interrupted me by beating my head, shoving, kicking, fighting hard to knock me down. I clawed back, refusing to go without a fight.
The railing gave one last groan, then broke loose, leaving us in free fall.
A sewer ran through the lower floor, protected by chevron patterned steel covers, and safety barriers to keep people from walking on the maintenance panels. These devices had not been designed to handle being rammed on their edge with a piece of balcony railing. Some panels, designed for quick and easy removal in the event of an obstruction, hadn't been so much fastened as laid upon a series of slats. When the railing hit them, they flipped vertical and dropped into the sewage, knocking out several other pieces in the process.
We dropped, shrieking, into a dark underground river of disgusting grimy liquid.