The surgery seemed to cause more harm than good.

"Mom," I groaned. "Could you (hello) please stop? Whatever you're doing isn't working."

"The bullet was lodged in your vertebra. It hit on the cusp of an important nerve. The good thing is, the bullet only pinched it. Electrostimulation should bring it back into operation."

I felt a jolt, then a sensation like a sea of ants passing through my exoskeleton.

My legs and arms flopped like puppet parts unattached to my body, then a ticklish pins and needles sensation filled every inch of them, which led me to perform a series of repetitive flexes until the tingling died down.

"Thanks, mom," I purred, rubbing my dome against her.

I carried the android to the panel she requested.

I salivated on a claw, preparing to melt the cover off, but before I could, Mara took a small tool out of a pocket on her ripped jumpsuit top, some sort of metal stick with a hexagonal hole at one end, which she pressed on one of the bolts. "I'd tell you to look the other way, but you already know my secret."

"About you (chair), about you being a machine?"

"Yes."

The woman could actually spin her hand three hundred and sixty degrees like a drill!

Although not very fast (hence why she hadn't become a chainsaw and killed my sisters already), faster and more perfect than a human laboriously cranking such a tool with their hand. "Sarah's always amazed at how fast I can put things together. I only got caught doing this once. Lou had to inject Sarah with a drug and put her in bed. We managed to convince her she'd dreamed the whole thing. It helped that she was really young at the time."

The bolt came out. She climbed up on my shoulders to get the next one. "Whenever she brought it up, I'd just say she had a `very vivid imagination.' We had to trade her toy with another of a different color we found at the base. A remarkable coincidence that they were both new."

"What are those numbers on Sarah's neck?"

Mara frowned, silently undoing the upper left bolt on the panel She remained silent until she worked the final bolt. "There is a gap in my memory regarding this subject. Your sisters appear to have damaged my databank."

The cover came off. She yanked out a small cable, plugging it into a hidden slot in her neck. "It's good we made it here when we did. My power reserves are down to four percent."

Confused, I asked, "Are you feeding? (Perfect)?"

Mara smiled a little. "In a manner of speaking, yes."

"Then why do you have intestines?"

Mara chuckled. "In order to simulate a human being perfectly, I metabolize food and turn it into electricity instead of plugging in. It should be obvious to you this is not the most efficient method. I often need to supplement with plugins such as these."

"Your blood is (locust), it's white."

"Not all of it." She held out a finger. "Bite this."

I cringed. "You don't know what you're asking."

She rolled her good eye. "I didn't ask you to eat it! C'mon. Cut it somehow. Use your claws, whatever you want to do. There's something I want to show you."

I dug a claw into her finger until it broke the skin. Red blood dribbled out.

"How...?"

She withdrew the finger. I watched with astonishment as the wound closed on its own a second later.

"It's all a simulation. I have artificial blood packs inside my hands and wrists, and I can send commands to them in order to bleed on cue. A few `kitchen mishaps', and Sarah was completely convinced I was a real human being."

I stared at the mess of wires and electricity inside the compartment. "Any communication (thanks) equipment in here?"

"I'm sorry, dear. This is just the door lock conduit."

The android folded back a thumbnail, plugging a small cord into the finger. Her eyelids fluttered a moment, and then a door hissed open. "Restraining clamp disengaged."

"Let's go."

"I'm sorry, Ernie. My power is only at five percent."

"(Lord). How long will it take you to recharge?"

"Thirty minutes."

"That's too long!"

Mara looked apologetic. "I'm sorry. I'm so weak. It has to be done."

"You're a percent higher (Lord), you're a percent than what you were before. Can't you recharge next to the...communication device?"

Mara nodded, unplugging the power cable.

I did my best, but she had been drained to one percent by the time we had the panel open in the next room.

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We'd entered a storage room full of unlabeled hexagonal cargo containers.

Cold and foggy, due to Boger ripping a freon hose out of the wall. If I understood what it was used for and how to fix it, I probably would have done so.

The sparking loose electrical cable reminded me of Sanchirck. I guess Ahxalybij survived such a jolt because she hadn't been immersed in a gallon of liquid, or maybe this cable had weaker voltage.

I found the vent covering that Boger had used in his escape, but it looked untouched by Ss'sik'chtokiwij claws, making me wonder how Ahxalybij got inside the cramped space to begin with. I guess she'd found another way in. After all, the vents do supply air to a multitude of places on the base.

The moment we had the panel off, Mrs. Hansen collapsed on the metal inside the compartment.

She closed her eyes. "So tired."

"No!" I cried, shaking her. "Mrs. Hansen!"

No answer.

I squinted at the jumble of wires and electrical equipment for an entire minute before finding the appropriate wire to plug into Mara's neck. It took ten more minutes before her eyelid batted open.

"I'm so sorry, honey," she breathed.

I said "That's okay," even though it wasn't. "You think you (hello), think you can help me now?"

She gave me a sweet smile and a nod.

"This machine looks just like the other one. What is the point (Satan), the point of all this difficult maneuvering?"

She pointed to a cargo container. "Middle one on the left, third from the top. Bring me the Shoshoni Cultivation Manager."

Easier said than done. A human probably would have injured themselves trying to move the heavy containers.

Not exactly easy for me, either, especially with my injuries, but I got the right one down (after Mrs. Hansen corrected me a few times).

The container, designed to be safe against accidental spills into the vacuum of space, had been secured all around with bolts and clamps. I had to moisten my claw several times to cut the thing open.

"My power reserves now at ten percent," Mara called when I at last had the lid removed.

My visual receptors gleamed when I saw what lay inside.

Treasure!

So many strange and fascinating things, infinitely more valuable to me than silver or gold, all together in one place like a big Christmas present.

Beneath a big bag of Cheetos, a pillow with stitched lighthouses on it (inspiring!) and bags of spongy candy, I found a shofar, the curling ceremonial ram's horn of the Hebrew people.

I had learned about such things in the course of my bible studies. I felt like an archaeologist holding Excalibur. I caressed the horn with my claws, mentally picturing someone using it. What would it be like to celebrate Jewish new year on this base?

I put the small end in my mouth and blew.

The instrument made a strange honking sound.

Not wanting to give away our position, I quickly put it away.

Beneath the object lay a pair of plastic packages labeled . One contained a square, beat-up looking gray device labeled Game Boy, a little computer chip on the top reading `Tetris', whatever that meant. The other held something like a phone, labeled Nintendo D.S.

The packages had been labeled with stickers bearing vague, officious sounding descriptions such as `Monochrome Digital Display,' `Manipulator Control Unit' and `Portable Memory Disk Loader.' A deception, I would later learn, in order to sneak contraband onboard a space freighter.

Thinking I found the right container, I held several packages up for Mara to see.

"Keep looking."

I held a lacy white little girl's dress, up to my chest, lifting the sleeves experimentally. No way I'd ever be able to wear the thing, but it looked cute.

Well, maybe not after I coated it with sewer grime. I tossed it out.

Who did it belong to? Rebecca? Sarah? Some other little girl on the base?

Were there other little girls on the base? Judging by recent events, I certainly hoped not!

Beneath this and a pack of Spider Man comics, I found the collected stories of Sherlock Holmes. Another treasure! I caught myself reading a quarter page of the Speckled Band story before remembering my duty.

I showed Mrs. Hansen a cardboard box labeled Atari 2600, A.K.A. `Backup Irrigation Control System'.

"No. I said the Shoshoni Cultivation Manager!"

I found the device beneath two more treasures: A Tallit (prayer shawl) and someone's old fashioned photo album (The owners wouldn't appreciate the faint sewer scent, but I didn't have the luxury of washing up).

A small plastic square with buttons on it.

As Mara worked on the device, I dug into the container once more, discovering yet another treasure: Spam!

Although the greasy processed meat is not suited for everyone's palette, to my achingly empty stomach, the slime covered, preservative laden canned pork product seemed like manna from heaven. I ripped the can to shreds, sucking every drop of gelatinous grease from the container.

If the shofar owner had been the same one requesting the Spam, it went against all dietary commandments, but I thanked God it was there. That, and the hickory smoked one I ripped open shortly afterwards.

After ten minutes of rapid touchscreen presses, Mara had a glowing map on screen displaying red moving dots.

I stared. "Which ones (chair), which are Rebecca and Sarah?"

She pointed at a box at one end of the map. "All three appear to be inside this crawl space connected to the kitchen. They are not alone. One seems to be a very large Ss'sik'chtokiwij."

"Mother!" I cried in alarm.

Mrs. Hansen didn't understand. "Yes, dear?"

I shook my head violently. "Never mind. I've got to help them. I'll come back when I can. Get recharged."

"Wait, would you like to send them a message?"

"Yes," I yelled as I ran out the door. "Help is (God), help is on the way!"

The cafeteria had no door, just a wide entryway. The long plastic tables and little stools reminded me of dining halls in recordings about high school students, except these had partly devoured dead bodies slumped over them.

Attached to the walls, different large video monitors, splattered with blood, displayed picturesque video footage of some tropical island with monkeys and green birds, police officers kissing and tearing each other's clothes off, and talking homeless dogs. A fourth monitor showed static, apparently damaged.

A large mural had been painted on one wall, a politically themed scenario where a cluster of astronauts bedecked in various flags stood on a rocky cliff overlooking Archeron's flatland. Blood smears obscured many details. A thickly muscled man in a jumpsuit lay face down in front of the picture, one lifeless hand pressed against a section of painted two dimensional rock.

I counted fifteen people. All dead.

The program about dogs changed to a waveform graph like I'd seen on the mp3 device. "Honey, do you see anyone alive in there?" Mara's voice asked.

I glanced around. Even with my damaged sense organs, I felt certain nobody had survived. Although unsure she could hear me, I told her this.

"It appears the device is functioning properly. Proceed down the passage forty yards and turn right at the next door."

"Yes mom. (Chair)."

I didn't know anything about pacing, but I didn't need a yardstick to figure out the directions. A corpse lay across the entrance to a kitchen. Blood caked on the modular stainless steel aluminum cabinets and counters, the stoves, ovens and dishwashers. A severed arm dangled from the edge of a counter like a beef shank ready for cutting.

Two more corpses sprawled near the back, clad in bloody white aprons and mangled hair nets.

Several of the cabinets had been ransacked, by Brice and the girls, I supposed. Understandably, they hadn't eaten in the cafeteria, maybe not even in the kitchen. The refrigerators hung open, a container of ice cream melting on the floor.

At the end of the room, another door had been wedged open by an industrial cooking pot.

A claw reached out of the shadowy recess beyond, silently beckoning me closer.

"Sydjea?"

"Shh!"

I crept that way, carefully stepping around the debris that would clatter.

Another plain, dimly lit concrete corridor, this one smelling of singed flesh.

Ss'sik'chtokiwij flesh, I realized. The humans fought back! My heart pounded with hope.

"This way." Sydjea led me down a side passage. The large spiky tail of an adult Ss'sik'chtokiwij disappeared around a corner.

I glanced at my sister in confusion. "Mara said the humans are to the right. We need to go there to protect them, and leave mom alone."

"I don't know what you're talking about. The humans are this way."

I hurried in the direction she indicated, but Sydjea grabbed my tail, holding me back.

When I glanced at her questioningly (we Ss'sik'chtokiwij know how to read our own faces) she handed me a taser. "Brice said you'd know what to do with this."

I clicked the button for a second, then snapped it off when a blue spark practically lit up the entire tunnel. "Shit!"

The moment I crept closer to the break in the tunnel, I heard Brice yell, "Bite on this, you stupid bitch!"

A loud explosion followed. Mother shrieked.

I peered around the corner. Mom and Hissandra glared into a ventilation shaft set high in the wall. The cover had been removed, a face with long hair and glasses staring out. The soft whimpers from deeper within told me at least one of the girls remained safe.

Brice asked God to condemn `it'. "That was a fucking M-80! It should have done something!"

Mother clawed at the hole Brice hid inside, trying to yank him out.

"Holy hell! Kids! Back up! The bitch is on the rag!"

Not sure what that rag thing meant, but it must have been serious.

Mom roared and clawed into the opening, indicating that maybe the man had escaped.

Kids! I thought, actually feeling happy. Plural!

Deciding it high time to act, I leapt on Mother, clicking the switch on the taser as I shoved the device into a weak segment in her neck plates. "Brice! Kids! Get to safety! Hurry! (Hello)!"

"Easier said than done!"

As the electricity pulsed into Mom's neck, she clawed at me, gripped my throat and choked me.

Sydjea came to my rescue, grabbing at Mom's claws, tugging them back. Hissandra tried to knock Sydjea down, but she kicked her off.

Mom responded by throwing my ally into a wall.

When Mother's claws ripped into me again, the taser at last took effect, and she fell back in convulsive spasms, collapsing to the floor.

I and Sydjea knocked Hissandra to the floor, tasering her as well. Both appeared to be temporarily unconscious, spasming from the electricity.

"Go!" I yelled to my friends. "(Jesus)."

"This vent is a dead end!" Brice called back. "We're blocked in by fan units!"

I growled in frustration. "Then get out of there! (Manna)! Hurry!"

"You know how fucking hard it was to get up here in the first place?"

I sighed. "Mom's going to wake up! If you can come out, you need to come out now!"

"You want me out, Bernie? Then get your (God condemned) cockroach ass over here and help me down!"

I did my best to comply, standing on my hind legs and holding out my arms, but the vent was a little out of reach, and Brice was heavy. I wondered how he got up there in the first place.

When the man first came out of the hole, I caught him, but I ended up flat on my back.

The girls threw down his crutches, his bag, and a cloth bag of groceries.

Remembering what I'd seen in videos about the subject of tasering, I shocked mom and Hissandra again, to ensure they'd be down for a few more moments.

As the man got back into a standing position, Sarah climbed out, hanging off the edge. I caught her, then Rebecca.

Instead of saying thank you, Brice wrinkled his nose and groaned, "Good God, Bernie! What have you been doing, swimming in a sewer!"

Before I could reply, mom recovered from the taser, clamping her claws around my neck.