Sydjea and I stared down into the lava, coughing and snorting softly. We wrapped our arms around each other, crying on each other's shoulders.

Yes, on a ninety degree incline. We didn't have anything more stable than natural granite to stand upon at the moment.

Sydjea sniffed. "We've lost two sisters. Hissandra is down there somewhere. I saw her falling when those things moved into the walls. I've looked and she's nowhere to be found. Probably fell in the lava."

I nodded. "It's sad."

I glanced at the boy hanging from the hook. "We should go (hello), go help him."

"Right," Sydjea said.

I climbed across the wall to the row of transformers where the decapitated android and the dead woman lay sprawled on the concrete walkway, waving to the frightened little boy.

Sydjea tapped me on the shoulder plate. "Uh, Sh'kassk'dwuissueblik?"

I spun around just in time to see mother charging out.

Her mouth distended, letting out the loudest roar I've ever heard a Ss'sik'chtokiwij make, blasting me with hot human meat breath.

Well. What can one say to that?

She could have thrown me into the lava right then and there, or maybe rip of my head, but she didn't.

I thought it might have had something to do with Sydjea. My sister, after all, hadn't done much to provoke mother's ire. Mom might have even pitied her, due to all the disfiguring injuries.

And then we smelled it.

Ss'sik'chtokiwij, being quite proficient at communicating with scents, know right away when someone is on the brink of laying socmavaj, `face hugger' pods. We backed away quickly.

Mom shrieked at us in rage, turned away, stomping behind the transformers.

I turned my attention back to the boy, still hanging over the chasm.

"Hey!" I called, waving to him. "It's safe now! (Gilead). You can come back over!"

The boy still had ground he could safely stand upon. Although the catwalks had retracted, but the granite and concrete structures supporting the transformers remained secure.

"N-no!" the boy cried. "You're just going to kill me! I'm not an idiot!"

I sighed. "Listen, little boy, we're vegetarian! We're (Lord), we mean you no harm!"

"What about that big thing that killed mom and Barbara?"

"She's indisposed."

The child only looked baffled.

"You see, when (maranatha) Ss'sik'chtokiwij get to be a certain age, changes start happening to their bodies. Their voice begins to sound different, (Eskimo) their atmarrej and dacamu grow and develop, and they begin laying eggs. Of course, I really don't think you want to be around when those eggs start hatching. Generally they propel themselves (perfect) into the air several feet and attach (manna) themselves to their victims' faces so they can lay their own eggs in their rib cages."

The boy shuddered, color draining from his face. "You promise not to hurt me?"

I nodded, sticking up the incorrect amount of claws. "Scout's honor. (Halleluiah). In fact, there's three other humans I want you to meet. A grouch (angel) and two little girls. You'll like them!"

The boy grimaced. "You're not talking about Number Neck, are you?"

I frowned. "Why?"

He sighed. "Something's weird about that family. I mean, her mother's obviously a robot, but nobody's allowed to say anything about it. That and the bar code, and that crazy story about prison camps or something.

"Any time I visit her, her dad's there watching me, making sure I don't spoil the secret. You'd think by now Sarah would have already caught that robot plugging herself into a wall outlet or something."

The boy pushed a button inside the crane, making it hum closer. "Why do you talk so funny?"

"I'm a Ss'sik'chtokiwij. Alien. Why (yes) does it surprise you that I have an accent?"

"She hurt her brain," Sydjea said. "It makes her blurt things."

"Oh." The boy lost interest. "Like Todd from the chemistry department."

He glanced at the platform. "Did you see a shoe down there?"

I shook my head. "Sorry kid. It's gone."

I didn't know that for a fact, but I definitely didn't want to go down and find out.

The child rolled the crane to the concrete stoop and disembarked, keeping a nervous distance from us. "I saw you fighting down there."

I hoped he didn't also see his shoe.

"You cut off that guy's head. That was badass!"

I coughed. "That was (Jesus), that was my sister! Show some respect!"

He swallowed. "I'm sorry."

"It had to be done."

I extended a claw. "I am Sh'kassk'dwuissueblik, or Ernie if you prefer. (Halleluiah). What's your name?"

The boy wrinkled his nose. "You smell like oven baked shit!"

I let my claw drop.

"My name is Kihoon Kim." He frowned at the bodies. "That was my mom."

The boy knelt by his mother and wept.

Sydjea opened her mouth, and I knew it was a mistake the moment she started. "Do humans allow, um, animals to consume their dead, or is that not allowed?"

I elbowed Sydjea. Hard.

"My apologies, Kihoon. My sister is unfamiliar (Halleluiah) with the concept of ceremonial burial. I know it's not safe right now, but when we have the luxury, do you know what (tires), what preference your mother had for her burial?"

Tears rolled down his cheeks.

"I'm sorry. You don't have to (Satan), you don't have to think about this now—"

"Cremation," he blurted.

"Oh! I know this one!" Without anyone asking, Sydjea rolled the dead body off the side of the platform.

"Mom!" the boy yelled. "No!"

Kihoon leaned over the edge, sniffing and wiping away tears. He looked like he wanted to perform some kind of burial ritual, but didn't know how to do it, for he fidgeted uncomfortably, then touched his hand to his heart like saluting a flag before becoming self conscious and dropping it.

"I'm sorry. (Jesus). We're really trying hard to be a good friend, but we're not doing a (hosanna), a very good job. Let's just get you out of here before something kills you."

Kihoon nodded. "That's the friendliest thing you've said to me!"

As I led him down the concrete ledge to the entrance, the lights dimmed and flickered out. "Do you happen to know how to fix the power?"

The boy shrugged. "What do I look like, a child prodigy? I'm just a kid!"

I sighed.

"Look. When something breaks, and no one else is here, Barbara's usually the one who fixes it. I really don't think she can do anything without her head."

Sydjea asked me to explain, so I translated.

"Ooh! I'm on it!" she climbed down the wall.

"Leave the head outside the door, if you can find it," I called as she gained distance. "I'll check back later (Satan), I'll check back later."

"And if I can't?"

"Don't worry about it."

The lights flickered back on, which was good because my night vision still didn't work very well, and the volcano didn't illuminate everything.

I led the boy past rows of computerized generator controls and system monitors. "I'm afraid I broke (thanks), broke your toy...Mr. Bunnypants."

Kihoon laughed. "Damn! I forgot all about that thing! All this time I thought he was swimming in lava!"

He must have thought about his mother after that, for his mirth vanished.

"Sorry."

We hurried out into the base.

With no enemies to worry about, I disregarded caution, yelling for my friends.

A little blonde haired face appeared behind an air register. "Stop making so much noise!"

"It's okay! Mom's busy and everyone else is gone! It's just Sydjea and I!"

"Are they...dead?"

"Yes, Sarah. (Yes)."

"Number Neck!" Kihoon laughed. "Why are you playing in the air system?"

"I'm trying not to die. What are you doing, Kookoon? Looking for your shoe?"

"Shut up," the boy groaned.

The lights went out again.

"What's going on?" Sarah asked.

"The power plant's broken (chair). Everyone's dead. We need to find Barbara's head (yes) so we can get the power plant working again, unless we can find another staff member to take her place."

"Oh! So that's what mom, Mara meant. No wonder she seems distracted!" she paused. "Who's Barbara?"

I froze for a moment, not sure about how to properly respond. "A...friend (Lord), friend of your mothers."

"Another android, he means," Kihoon explained.

The power came back up.

Sarah stared at me with uncertainty. "So we can come out now."

I nodded. "Where is everybody?"

"We're in the infirmary. Brice is..." She frowned. "We're hoping he gets better."

I looked around in bewilderment. "Where is this infirmary place?"

"It's—"

"I know where it is," Kihoon dug out a card key. "I was just in there yesterday for my monthly diabetes shot."

He ran the card through a scanner, leading us through the storage room with the loose freon hoses, and down a gray hallway. The lights went out twice before we reached the place.

One of many medical labs on Archeron Base. Five examination tables, machinery that simultaneously measured EKG, blood oxygen, blood pressure and blood content, IV and dialysis equipment and some crash carts. Big wall monitors displayed a flatlined EKG and an endlessly repeating health newsletter that advised people to quit smoking and eat healthy in between video clips of people hiking, rowing, and participating in bikini beach volleyball.

With his legs swaddled in bandages, Brice lay sprawled on one of the examination tables, hooked up to a splitter IV. Blood and saline, it looked like. I guess someone had found the correct blood type.

A monitor showed Brice's heartbeat to be irregular but fairly strong. He must have been a little more than okay, for I caught him sneaking sips out of a beer bottle.

Rebecca lay on the table next to him, sound asleep. Along the back wall, Mara's upper torso recharged in an electrical outlet, wires from a medical diagnostic machine hooked to her wrist, fingers playing imaginary piano arpeggios as her eyelids fluttered.

As we entered the room, Sarah opened the ventilation register, climbing out.

Brice craned his neck up to look at us. "Heyy."

"Hey yourself, Brice Crispies," Kihoon said. "Where's my Spiderman comics?"

"Damn," Brice groaned. "You know, I was having so much fun fucking bleeding to death that it completely slipped my mind!"

"Excuses, excuses," the boy said softly. "Those things really fucked you up, didn't they?"

"Punctured a major artery, nearly died on the way over, yeah, I'd say that's a fairly accurate assessment!" He set aside his beer. "How's Lava Lips? She changed her mind about giving Korean lessons to gringos?"

Kihoon went cold. "No. She's dead."

Brice sighed. "Damn." He fell silent for a moment.

"Your mother was one fine woman." He glanced at the open door. "Hey, is someone gonna close that, or is everyone fine with letting those things eat us?"

"You don't have to worry (Eskimo), worry about that." I touched the door. "My sisters are all dead."

Brice sat bolt upright. "You're shitting me! They're all gone? Oh my God! That's fucking terrific!"

He yanked out his IV, put on his crutches, climbed off the table.

"I would not recommend that course of action, Mr. Pittman," Mara warned. "You are not yet properly healed."

"Screw you!" A big grin spread across his face. "I'm going to celebrate! And the first thing on the agenda is going to be a long hot shower!"

He froze, eyes narrowing. "Wait. What about the big bitch?"

"Mom's busy laying eggs. (Manna)."

Brice's eyes bugged out. "Eggs! You're fucking letting her lay eggs!"

"I..." I stammered. "She's not hurting anyone. At least not yet (manna). She's actually going to be busy for awhile. I can guess what (Eskimo), what you're thinking, but you know how Christians feel about abortion."

"Seriously?" He rolled his eyes. "Bernie. They're fucking eggs. You have to scramble them!"

"They're Ss'sik'chtokiwij children!"

"You've got to make a choice. Them or us."

"It's a child, not a choice! (Selah)."

"They're (God condemned) eggs!" Brice rubbed his face in frustration. "Good God."

The man took another drink. "Bernie, I know you love your mommy, but could you please change your rigid Pro Life stance just this once?"

"Can't you (chair) can't you see that it's safe now? If you can lock her in the power plant, she'll be safely occupied for days, peacefully laying her (Eskimo), laying her eggs! Take that away, and you've got a...a...bitch!"

Brice furrowed his brow. "You have a point."

He turned to the android. "Mara. Lock the plant."

Mrs. Hansen nodded. "Yes sir."

"Actually, Sydjea is supposed (Satan), supposed to return with Barbara's head so we can get the power working again."

"That would be beneficial," said Mara. "I will open the doors upon sighting a damaged Ss'sik'chtokiwij with Barbara's head."

"You most certainly will not!" Brice shouted. "We don't want the Megabitch out here with her devil eggs!"

"Oxygen equipment depends on electrical support systems. The danger is noted. I will only make allowances for smaller Ss'sik'chtokiwij, and only if android's head is present."

"Fine," Brice groaned. "But I just know we're going to regret this!"

He cleared his throat. "Well anyways, until Megabitch gets off the throne, victory shower."

As he hobbled past me on his crutches, his nose wrinkled. "Speaking of which..."

A steel and plastic shower head blasted me, soap and piping hot water coursing over my exoskeleton, cleaning away years of grime and dirt from every surface. It was actually the first true bath I ever had. It felt like a baptism.

When we had entered the shower room a few minutes before, I thought I would be comfortable with the idea, but after we'd cleared away the dead bodies, and the sprayer went on, I panicked like a cat at flea bath time, I guess because of all those brain holes that weren't properly sealed.

Although I didn't flee the room, I cowered nervously away from the spray like an idiot.

"C'mon," Brice growled as the water rained down on his naked body. "Don't make me get a choke chain!"

Still, I behaved like an old dog, stubbornly lying on my belly until both girls tried to drag me by the tail.

After the initial ordeal, I found the experience somewhat...pleasant.

Kihoon didn't shower with us, as he hadn't exerted himself that much before we found him, just playing with a camera drone and hanging from a crane.

The girls, still terrified of being attacked, never strayed more than a few feet from the bearded one.

Brice's leg had been stitched in several places, apparently cauterized as well. When we had dried off, the girls helped change his dressing, and we returned to the medical room.

Under Mara's direction (she couldn't leave her post or the power would go out) the girls hooked the IV fluids back up to Brice's arm, then helped me patch up my own wounds, my damaged head, my severed tail. They curled up on opposite examination tables to rest.

In relative safety now (Mara had automatically locked the power plant door, and we had cameras monitoring it), Kihoon chose to sleep in crew quarters, across the hall from Sarah's home. I think he hunted for a new pair of shoes.

I gently tapped Sarah on the arm. "Hi."

"Hey," she said drowsily.

"I was gone a long time. (Hello). Trying to keep them away from you. (Maranatha). Can you tell me what happened in my absence?"

She rolled over and smiled at me. "Okay. If you tell me what happened to you."

I told her my story, answering whatever questions she had the best I could.

She really hadn't gotten over the novelty of me speaking, especially at such length, for she smirked even at the bitterest portions of my sordid tale. Plus, I suppose, due to lack of better entertainments, she found my clumsily constructed narrative exciting in some fashion.

At last, she took a deep breath, dropping her smile. "Okay."

I sat back on my haunches, eagerly awaiting her next word.

After the stunt with the M80's, the three had fled to Life Support, which Mara had helpfully opened, then secured against the enemy. Brice used the cameras and security systems to spy on mom and Hissandra's movements, but he failed to notice the Ss'sik'chtokiwij slipping up the stairs until she stood outside the door.

"Brice yelled for me to go. He was like `Get the `eff out of here, I'm the responsible adult and you're the kids, so you'd better do what I say.' As he fought the thing, Rebecca opened a vent, but I guess I didn't move fast enough because he started cussing and saying how he's a worthless cripple, we kids were the only ones with a chance of surviving. He swore at me until I followed Rebecca out of there."

I gazed at the bearded man with admiration, suppressing a cough of emotion.

Sarah continued her story.

After Brice had given those sharp words, the children climbed through various air ducts until they got stuck behind an air conditioner. They ended up having to climb out in the shower room and sneak through the crew area.

They saw the bodies, of course, but were brave and kept moving. Even when they saw the corpse of Todd from the chemistry department.

Sarah's phone, on the charger, still had juice. When she picked it up, she immediately received a text message from Mara, telling her to meet her in the hallway.

I didn't completely understand how that texting stuff worked, but understood that Sarah figured out where I'd left her mother somehow.

"I really didn't want to go. I hated her for all those lies, but I didn't have much of a choice. Robot or not, she was the only adult in the area."

I thought, technically, a robot wasn't an adult, but didn't want to `ruffle any feathers' by saying so.

When the children at last found her, Mara basically told them she was dying. "I'm having a critical system failure. I have detected several vital pieces of equipment in room 17B, and I need you children to carry me there."

The girl refused to help.

"Please, honey. If not for me, do it for your father."

Sarah grudgingly carried the robot downstairs to the tool room.

Rebecca said parts of the room looked like a workbench in someone's basement, basically a dumping ground for every extra anything in the entire base. Junk computer monitors, a heavy drill press, a lathe, shovels, pickaxes, and boxes full of electronic supplies, little wheeled carts loaded with light bulbs, bolts and tools.

Mara found all the equipment necessary to effect her self repairs.

While this had been happening, as previously mentioned, I witnessed Brice's little `science experiment' with the bleach and Ahxalybij's head.

By the time Brice at last staggered out of Life Support, the girls had repaired Mara back to a functional state, the android flashing him signals through the emergency lights and informational computers, directing him to the tool room.

He got there surprisingly fast for an injured person, helping the girls create a barricade with the heavy tools and whatever else he could find.

Mara sent out the Floorbot 850 to clean up Brice's blood trail, to draw attention away from their hideout.

Brice and the children ate in my absence, heating up canned goods from the kitchen with welding torch.

"Oh, and speaking of which..." Sarah interrupted her story to dig a pair of cans out of Brice's satchel. "I saved you something. Brice said he didn't like tuna."

"What do you mean I don't like it?" Brice grumped. "I love reliving my depressing years as a penniless college bachelor!"

I prayed and opened both cans. The meat proved to be fairly delicious.

Returning to the story, Sarah told me that during the course of her meager repast, there fell an awkward silence where neither daughter nor robot mother spoke to one another. Although excusable due to wishing to avoid discovery, they refused to even make eye contact.

Familiar with the android's personality, I viewed Sarah's description of events as wishful anthropomorphisms. More than likely, the girl just refused to look at Mara, not the other way around.

At long last, Sarah opened up to her `Mother.' "You lied to me. Both you and dad."

"Honey..." Mara's face showed one of those pained expressions parents display when telling children that a grandparent died or a divorce is pending. "Lou and I wanted you to develop like a normal little girl. We agreed that if you knew, your emotional growth would be stunted by an obsession to find a flesh and blood mother."

"Like it isn't stunted now?" she practically shouted. "So who's my real mother?"

Mara only responded with, "That information is restricted."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" she demanded.

"My programming does not allow access to this information."

"Tell me!" Sarah punched Mara, shoving her to the floor. "Tell me now!"

"Whoa, kid!" Brice said. "Don't damage the merchandise! Like her or not, we still need her technical skills."

Sarah grabbed the robot by the throat. "Tell me who my mother is!"

"Quiet, kid!" Brice hissed. "You want all those things to come in here and kill us?"

Sarah burst into tears.

"Honey..." Mara tried to console her, putting her hand on her shoulder, but Sarah only brushed her away.

"When were you going to tell me? Never? How old would I have had to be before you'd actually break down and tell me the truth? Or is that restricted information too?"

Mara had no answer to this, for it more than likely would have never come out if she could help it, like that old TV show about the people who hire an actress to impersonate an elderly widow for the rest of her life in order to fulfill the terms of a lucrative last will.

"It wasn't something I could disclose," Mara said at last. "I wanted to be a real mother, just like I was a real wife to your father. If I couldn't fulfill that role, I didn't want to live. I'd rather they disassemble me and reformat my system."

Sarah stared at her icily. I understood her upset. How is a child supposed to react to being told lies for the majority of their young life? And what was she exactly? Could Sarah still legitimately claim this android as a parent?

"You're not my mother," the girl croaked.

"Sarah, just because I'm an android doesn't mean I don't have any feelings."

Sarah sniffed. "I thought that was exactly what it meant."

Mara explained how she had been programmed with soft logic, and could therefore love. "We really had some good times together. I really felt like part of a family. I experienced your loving. I felt joy when I saw your first steps, spoke your first words...and our wonderful little Christmas gatherings..."

Sarah's lip trembled as she listened, crying at the betrayal, crying at the beautiful memories they had together. "You're just a robot," she sobbed. "You're not my real mother. It was all just a big fat lie. You're just a thing with a messed up face and no legs! A real mother would have never survived that!"

"Are you saying you want me to die?"

Sarah swallowed. "No...It's just..." She shook her head. "You don't even yell at me. Even now, when you're supposed to be the most hurt you've ever been in your whole life, and you're not even crying or yelling. You're too calm. A real mother wouldn't..." She almost said `Take things sitting down,' but Mara had no lower torso. "She wouldn't be so blah!"

"Would you like me to be more emotional?" the android asked.

That took Sarah aback. "No...Maybe. I...I don't know."

"I...I don't know what to say."

"The kid's got a point," Brice said. "It wouldn't set well with me if I suddenly discovered my mother was a toaster."

Mara scowled. "I thought by now you understood that I have feelings that can be hurt."

"So does my Google GameDrive 720."

Mara simulated sarcasm. "Wow. That's nice."

"There's entertainment, and there's reality. And when you confuse the two, it tends to be pathetic and sad."

"So now love is entertainment?"

"Actually yes. You'd be surprised at how many games there are about going out on dates. It really is sad. It must be lonely in Japan."

Like telling Pinocchio he would never be a real boy. Brice might as well have slapped her in the face.

"You should see him when he plays Escape the Kennel," Rebecca said. "He tells little dogs to jump into the chipper shredder."

Brice raised his hands in protest, but didn't hide a smirk. "Hey. The game gives me Meanie Points."

"You've won a million from me," Mara said without humor. "Want to keep going?"

The smile dropped from his face. "No ma'am. I prefer my games to be entertaining."

He didn't talk to her for awhile. Everyone sat in stony silence.

Brice took off his tourniquet, examining his wounds.

The android displayed a remarkable amount of forgiveness...or simulated such. "I see you have serious injuries that require medical attention. May I provide assistance?"

"Sure. If you want a help a guy with a million Meanie Points under his belt."

Although still crying, Sarah slowly began to accept her robotic mother for what she was. Not as a real parent, but as a friend. "It explains a lot. You always acted a little weird. And your skin felt funny."

Mara smiled. "Nobody's perfect."

And that's when my mother tried to break through the door.

Bruce sucked in his breath. "Speaking of imperfect, I'd say we were a teensy bit on the loud side."

Mother was very forceful, the humans' barricade proving woefully inadequate for her onslaught. A fearful sight to behold,

"How are you at multitasking?" Brice asked the robot.

Mara pulled a vial of antibiotic spray out of a panel in her leg, cleaning his wound. "I can successfully perform numerous challenging tasks at once, depending on the nature of the task and the quality of equipment provided." She glanced around the room. "Sutures." She held out a hand. "String. Wire. Anything."

Rebecca quickly fetched her some plastic twine.

"We need to distract these things from our room," Brice said. "What do you think?"

"The Ss'sik'chtokiwij Ernie may be adequate for this task." Mara cut ruined tissue out of his leg with her eye laser. "I can send for her if you can find a B3 Fiber Optic Coax Cable."

Since the girls didn't understand, so she described the cable, a red and yellow thing with prongs at the end. Even with that information, though, they couldn't figure it out until Brice directed them to a black and gold one that did the same thing. Although slightly frayed and a little short, it worked. Mara had the connection necessary to play with the video system and put words in my dead sister's mouth.

Of course, in between Mara assisting Brice and Rebecca tripping over the cord, the illusion stopped working. That's when Ahxalybij saw through the illusion, as you remember.

By the time I reached the tool room, the door had buckled and some of the objects they used to brace the door had fallen over. If not for the distraction of the amorous humans from the power plant, they would have likely been killed.

The girls found an air duct leading alongside the power plant, but an air conditioner again blocked the way, and a good thing too, because mom could smell them through the grating, and would have ripped them to pieces if she could have gotten in there.

Mom shredded half the unit, destroying the fans and spraying `Freon 3' on the floor, but she couldn't get in.

The first aid Brice had received in the tool room hadn't gone that well, so when they heard things getting quiet outside the door, they decided to take a risk and hobble to the med lab.

You know the rest of the tale, at least the parts worth telling. I thanked Sarah for her story and she gave me a hug good night.

Exhausted from my ordeal, I curled up next to Rebecca's examination table and fell asleep.

I awoke to the sound of Brice swearing.

Sydjea had brought back Barbara's head and just set it by the door.

Brice cautiously poked it with a crutch and laughed. "Damn near pissed all over the floor. Happy fucking Halloween!"

"Is it Halloween?" I asked. "(Thanks)."

Brice shook his head. "Well! It looks like we got the part we ordered. Where's the rest of her?"

He glanced at an empty examination table. "More importantly, where's Sarah?"

"She went to the bathroom," Rebecca groaned, sleepily rubbing her eyes. "With uh, Squidyeehah, you know, Ernie's friend."

Brice looked uneasy, but I trusted my sister. "I'm sure she'll be fine. But I'll go (amen) check on her anyway. Maybe we can have a little bible study together."

The man smirked. "Great. That would be real cute." He picked up the robot's head. "In the meantime, what am I supposed to do with this?"

"The body (chair) is back in the power plant. I'll go get it on (tires) on the way back."

"Brice, you are not unfamiliar with such repairs," Mara said.

"No...I still think your late husband owes me a lot more than he actually paid me for some of those (ahem) services."

If this had anything to do with `blowup dolls', I wasn't sure I wanted to know what he meant.

When I padded up to the door, Brice trailed me on his crutches. He still didn't trust me.

"It's okay, I'll make certain (tires), make certain she's safe."

But as I left, I heard Mara saying, "Ernie's friend is very inquisitive. She kept asking questions about tranquilizers and sedatives."

My heart stopped beating for a second. If I had a brow to furrow, I would have done so.

Once I turned it over in my head a bit more, my puzzlement turned to alarm.

I broke into a run.

The most convenient bathroom stood adjacent to medical crew quarters. I searched this dwelling, but found nothing amiss, no obvious sign that Sarah and Sydjea had gone through there.

Other than their geographic location, the rooms looked identical to the dwelling Sarah's family called home. Slate gray, no personal touches.

An abandoned area, of course. Before going to bed, Mara mentioned forwarding a warning to the rest of the base about a biological contaminant, putting a quarantine on our end of the facility.

On the way to these quarters, I caught sight of uniformed figures in the far distance, walking back and forth before a hastily constructed barrier. Away from all the chaos and bloodshed, these people, and the people they kept out, looked peaceful, bored even, oblivious to the danger right around the corner.

Neat little rooms, lounge chairs tidy, the floor spotless.

No blood. I sighed in relief.

"Sarah?" I called, but nobody answered.

I wandered from door to door, calling for her, but my efforts yielded no results.

That's when I found the cap from a hypodermic syringe on the carpet.

I suddenly felt cold.

My claw grabbed a nearby door handle, pulled down.

It swung open with ease. It seemed quarantine protocol was to leave the rooms unlocked, to make sure nobody remained inside anywhere.

The bedroom was clean, its futons artfully wrapped in sheets and blankets, dressers closed, closet shut, monitors off, nothing out of place.

Nothing except the discarded air register, and blood dripping out the open air duct. A small but serious quantity, pooling on the carpeting between the dressers.

A small sob caught in my throat. "No! Please Lord, not Sarah!"

I rushed to the vent, praying it wasn't too late.

Tragically, as my claws clicked around the growing stream of sticky fluid...

Sarah's little body lay curled on its side in a spreading pool of red, pant legs of her jumpsuit rolled up to her knees, a large chunk cut from her calf muscle in a precisely cut square, like meat in a butcher shop.

Sydjea, my sister, my ally, my trusted friend, stood poised with a scalpel above the lifeless golden haired body, smiling proudly.

No sound my body could possibly make could express the proper amount of anguish, or the anger I felt. It took all the love of Jesus in my soul not to rip her head off right then and there.

Holding back rage, I opened my mouth, and words came out. "What. Did. You. Do!"

I said that last part through my teeth, I was so mad.

Sydjea raised a syringe. "I gave her drugs and smothered her with a pillow. She felt no pain."

My claws clenched into fists. I felt blood vessels in my head beginning to swell.

My sister lifted a square of Sarah's flesh for me to view. "This meat is cruelty free."

My fists clenched tighter.

Sydjea divided the bloody square in half with the scalpel, symbolically breaking bread.

She offered me a piece. "Take and eat."

All the hurt, all the pain, all the indignation, all the self loathing, guilt and fury rose to my mouth in a single deafening roar.