Silence. Far more demoralizing to my faith than any other trial I had faced.

I couldn't sew, couldn't use my computer, even to listen to music, and I had read everything in my cell.

Reading Arthur C. Clarke's vision of a utopia where all the religions of the world collapse under the weight of so-called `fact,' listening to an android reading Carl Sagan's critiques of the Christian faith, watching recordings about the failings and alleged evolution of religion, none of this ever bothered me.

But the silence, the lack of stimulation...

Another hour slowly passed. I contemplated the trials of Job in the bible. The man experienced the very extremes of human emotion, lost family, friends and everything else he cared about.

Why? Because Satan assumed, perhaps rightfully so, that Job would stop loving God the moment everything he held dear got taken from him. The idea: Job possibly loved things, or his family, more than God, as idols.

Yet how does one love a God that takes everything good away from you, when the one thing that remains, God Himself, is so hard to grasp or understand?

Granted, I had a vision of heaven, but who was to say it was real? It could have been a dream, vision, or hallucination like so many others.

As Roger once said, God's tests seem like a man stepping on a cat's tail to see if it will yelp in pain.

Having everything taken from me except God...I asked myself if He were really that sufficient.

I couldn't see God, couldn't touch Him, didn't even know if my vision of Jesus was real. As each day passed, it seemed more and more like a dream. With that doubt, and everything else taken from me...how was I to endure with the faith of Job?

Of one thing I felt certain: If I were to escape the cell, I would have to work on it myself, or die trying. At the very least, the commotion should be enough to summon my robotic concierge.

Using my claw as a ladle, I dripped generous globs of burning saliva on my collar and chains. I'd contemplated doing this for days, but at the time they still fed me and taught interesting things, so I had refrained.

The collar, though durable and resistant to acid, wasn't acid proof. After wetting the collar for about eight minutes, it fell from my neck like the albatross in the Rime of the Ancient Mariner, my hope renewed in similar fashion.

"I know that my Redeemer liveth," I muttered, remembering that one hopeful note from Job.

They hadn't repaired the door after my previous escape attempt, the chain and collar deemed suitable for restraining me in my prison, so I attacked the metal anew, determined to expose any fault I could find.

It took a full hour for me to see the outer hallway through the hole, and another twenty minutes to widen the opening enough to allow me to squeeze through, but I was out, `Free to move about the continent,' if you will.

I padded past Sarah's cell, eying the Dungeons and Dragons materials with the curiosity of a dog long taunted by a squirrel just inches out of reach. From my cell, I'd only been able to catch a foreshortened view of the map, nothing more.

I thought about going in and examining it more closely, but by now had developed a paranoia about locking doors. I continued on to the laboratory.

It had become a grisly sort of lunch room. Ms. Abernathy's carcass lay on the floor, Ss'sik'chtokiwij larva nibbling on her flesh, two at her chest, one chewing a hole in her bicep, the fourth eating her legs. They paid me no attention.

No sign of Call anywhere.

Along one wall, cameras displayed the contents of the cells, and computer readouts for various biological data I still transmitted to the computer.

In a jar nearby, I found the plugs Roger had created to cover my skull openings. I Immediately switched the probes for the protective covers, causing the monitors (but not my heart) to flatline.

Another computer displayed my recent computer usage, in addition to providing an agenda for future tests (something involving juggling multiple tasks at once, like memorizing long strings of numbers and cooking. I wonder what Ms. Abernathy would have thought about me using a stove!)

The Mara unit rested on a corner shelf, not plugged in or anything, just propped up like a rag doll with her eyes vacantly staring into space, face wearing the same expression she had when she stopped functioning outside my cell.

My computer lay next to the android, I tried the Gardenialand game again, but couldn't find Space Kitty anymore, and I didn't have access to the video chat system or the multi user gun game.

I frowned at my sewing kit. From what I heard, there wouldn't be much left of Sarah to bury, and I wouldn't know where to find the body anyway. I left the kit on the shelf.

Melting a door with one's own saliva is thirsty work. I immediately set about searching for something to drink, opening the cabinets, examining this or that.

I came across some bottles of ammonia, apparently for cleaning surfaces, draining one to the bottom. I also tore into a bag of dry dog food, washing this down with more ammonia.

"If I knew you were hungry," said a larva. "I would have given you a piece of this aged plump thing."

"No thank you."

My blade weapon lay on one of the lab tables, illuminated by a magnifying desk lamp. A motorized saw lay next to it, the square hole in my weapon's casing telling me precisely what it had been used for.

The gauntlet still worked. It interfaced with my arm, extending a blade when I willed it to.

The inner workings, now visibly displayed through the opening of the incision, proved to be no less mystifying than they had been when not exposed. No springs or levers or turning wheels, nor any wires or electric apparatuses. The blade simply popped out and went back in. My guess was that it used magnets somehow, but the `somehow' eluded me.

I extended the blade, contemplating the use on the young Ss'sik'chtokiwij, to save humans on the base.

I retracted it, settling on the floor beside the larvae. "Hello, young ones."

They still paid me little attention, preferring to simply feed.

"My name is Sh'kassk'dwuissueblik. The woman you are eating was named Erin Abernathy."

"I'd like another one of those," said a large larva on her chest.

"Speak for yourself, Ssremsuse," said a hatchling with zebra-like stripes on its exoskeleton. "Its body smells terrible, and the meat has a strange texture to it."

"It is called `cigarettes,'" I said.

"I wish to have `cigarettes' free prey. This is as unpleasant as the stringy dark one Sshutruht caught in the hallway."

"Tell me more about this `Abernathy,'" said the larger one. "I like to have a story with my meal."

I recounted my experiences with the woman.

In any story, even the story you are reading now, it is the desire of the author to make an appeal to the emotions, in hopes of making them think about things a certain way. Therefore, I really hoped, in sharing my experiences with this woman, that I would make them think twice about eating human flesh.

I suppose I hadn't presented a good enough case for this, for Ssremsuse only replied, "It sounds like we did you a service."

"I admit she was a little hard to warm up to, but I sensed a friendship developing. We were about to play something called Dungeons and Dragons before you ate her."

"What is Dungeons and Dragons?"

"I do not know. Now I never will."

Not entirely accurate, but it sounded good, and I did lack the woman's knowledge on the subject, as cursory as it may be.

"It doesn't matter," said Zebra Markings. "Doesn't sound like something you can eat anyway."

"True," Ssremsuse agreed. "Still, it may have been something you could enjoy after eating."

My past experiences had left me wary of expecting too much from the Ss'sik'chtokiwij mission field, and I had a hard time figuring out exactly how to reach my kin in a way that moved them to repentance. I therefore opted for a rather less than elegant solution.

To me, killing them would have been like abortion, so grabbing Ms. Abernathy's body by the ankles, I dragged her and the feeding larva into the prison.

"Hey!" Zebra protested. "What do you think you're doing!"

"Yeah!" cried a lumpy looking hatchling on her leg. "I was eating that!"

"Just tidying up. You're making a terrible mess on the floor."

The little ones actually believed me. "Oh."

Ssremsuse idly chewed on the body. "I suppose that would be more visually pleasing."

The lumpy one shifted position with a growl. "Must you drag it by the ankles? I was just about to gnaw on them!"

Zebra crossed her little arms. "This isn't even your kill, Ssoibnac. Put up with it, or get out."

I dragged the woman into Sarah's cell, carefully laying her against the wall.

I picked up the game manual from Sarah's cot, examining the detailed illustrations. "This is fascinating!"

Ssoibnac waddled closer. "Let me see."

I showed her a page.

"I can't read that. What's it say?"

I read aloud from the book, explaining terms like `dungeon,' `wizard' and... `gelatinous cube.'

"That is very strange. I believe Sshutruht has eaten a wizard before."

Zebra shrugged. "I do not care for all this human stuff."

As I told Ssoibnac about knights and goblins and displacer beasts, I had been steadily retreating into the hallway.

"Where are you going?"

"A Dungeon Master needs to be separate from the group, to keep the secret numbers hidden."

"I see. Like how we Ss'sik'chtokiwij hide prey."

I nodded hesitantly. "I...suppose."

Ssremsuse swallowed a mouthful of flesh. "We will not threaten your secret numbers. They are not edible."

"And neither are humans." I jabbed a button labeled `Close Cell Door.'

The door moved slowly, but three of the larva, too busy eating, paid it little attention.

Ssoibnac, however, panicked, attempting to escape.

This saddened me, but I felt confident that imprisonment did them no harm. I'd suffered such things before, so I picked the young one up, throwing her back inside.

Ssoibnac picked herself up and attempted a dive through the gap, but the cell door proved to be faster. She screamed as the weighty piece of metal and interlocking bolts smashed her into the door frame, spraying steaming yellow acid blood in every direction.

Somehow, the door still locked, trapping the other three Ss'sik'chtokiwij inside, the acid appearing to act as sealant, as certain quick fix tire repair kits fill up holes by melting the interior of the surrounding tire.

Ssoibnac's companions shrieked and sneezed in anguish, moving me to similar expressions of grief.

Infanticide! Committed by my own claws!

I turned away, in horror of the grievous sin I had just inadvertently committed. "I am sorry. It was an accident."

Silence answered me.

I lay down and wept for a moment, then froze as I noticed the sounds of other larva scampering about.

Two Ss'sik'chtokiwij children, perhaps returning from a kill, or searching for food.

It took me a moment to recognize the marbled texturing of the leader, the distinct Sarah-like scent marker. "Maria! It is so good to scent you again!"

"And you as well."

Her companion I didn't recognize: A stranger with a daisy pattern of dots on her shell. "Who is this?" I hoped it wasn't a human hunting partner.

"Her name is Ruth, formerly Ssavzotvi. She has been saved."

Ruth gave me a low respectful bow, making the sign of the cross over her exoskeleton.

I should have been overjoyed, but felt like someone had just kicked me in the stomach.

I gazed at this new Ss'sik'chtokiwij convert for a moment before weeping bitterly.

"Why do you weep? This one was lost and now is found. It is a joyous occasion."

"Not for me," I sobbed. "For I have sinned greatly in the sight of the Lord."

I pointed a claw to the spilled Ss'sik'chtokiwij blood on the cell door. "I have murdered the young, when the Lord has called me for a higher purpose. I am like the impatient Moses who struck the rock at Meribah, not heeding God's instruction." I explained what happened between me and the four Ss'sik'chtokiwij.

"That is tragic. But it was not entirely your fault."

I only shook my head.

"You should not feel guilt over this, Sh'kassk'dwuissueblik. Ssoibnac chose to attempt escaping. She had a mind and thoughts and the ability to kill. You committed no sin."

I coughed in anguish. "I could have converted them, instead of entombing them where they are."

"Sh'kassk'dwuissueblik," Maria persisted. "I understand your worry, but these are not humans. They are not fetuses. Life begins in the carcass, yes, but they emerge with intelligence and free will. Moreover, they can kill, hunt and defend themselves, unlike human babies. You must judge them like grown men."

I lovingly placed a claw on the back of her exoskeleton. "The Ss'sik'chtokiwij Above has revealed this to you, little one. From the mouth of babes comes the truth..."

I gazed at her in admiration. "How did you bring your friend to the faith?"

"I used the Wooby Worm."

It made perfect sense. My conversion required an immersion in human thought, more or less, and Sarah could only trade bodies with a Ss'sik'chtokiwij larva into her own vehicle by mental contact.

Ss'sik'chtokiwij, having no established culture or language or art, no ground to establish deep philosophical thought, needed outreach on a very intense personal level.

A powerful tool, but also a dangerous one.

"How do you avoid losing who you are? You became Sarah by linking your worms to her mind. How do you avoid becoming Ruth?"

"It's like human relationships, and how you can lose yourself in the other person. Not harmful, and spending time alone in silence can help you regain your identity. What I fear more is having someone bite off my worms. But with love there are always risks."

I frowned at the larva I'd just killed. "I could have saved her."

Maria sighed, nodding a little. "...Maybe."

I waved a claw at her companion. "She knows not to kill and eat humans, doesn't she?"

Ruth nodded.

"We're still not sure if it's okay to eat an already dead human. After all, we did not commit the act."

I swallowed. Food would not always be plentiful, but eating the dead would make us no better than vultures.

Still, vultures aren't technically murderers, even if one made analogies about a bank robber and the money the robber stole, one could argue the finder's innocence...And against..."It is difficult, but I myself have vowed not to eat any human, live or dead."

Ruth nodded solemnly. "Can we have bible study? I would like to know more about this Moses and Meribah thing."

This cheered me somewhat, so I agreed, diving through the hole in my cell well to retrieve my bible.

Now fully aware of their imprisonment, the three in Sarah's cell glared at me in sullen silence.

Well, only two glared. Ssremsuse, still too busy consuming the flesh of her victim, ignored me.

I had the inclination to have our little bible study in the jail, to `preach to the spirits in prison,' so to speak, but since I killed their friend and trapped them in the cell, I doubted the message would be well received, any more than slapping someone then telling them Jesus loves them would warm anyone to the gospel.

Not wanting to study in the adjoining room, either, due to the gruesome mess, I led Ruth and Maria out into the hallway, searching for a convenient room.

The rooms facing this hallway had been locked, the automatic sliding doors refusing to respond. No big deal. I enjoyed the newfound luxury of unhurriedly strolling where I chose, exploring the base to see what could be found.

Yes, I suppose I could have immediately set about with searching the entire base for survivors, trying to protect them from their doom, but I didn't know where they were, or if they wanted my help. My main interest had been to find Rebecca, but even that seemed impossible at the moment, so I just did what I could to gather and spiritually strengthen allies against...whatever was out there.

I also figured I would at least bump into a few humans during the course of my wanderings...if anyone survived after my long period of imprisonment...

Already, as I explored, I discovered the mutilated body of Jeanette, slowly being devoured by a young larva, presumably Sshutruht. I said hi, just to be polite, but the larva only grunted and kept eating.

"She rejected my attempt to bond," Maria said. "Should we kill her?"

I shook my head. "If we catch her attacking humans, we will kill her then. Your words have given me confidence that this is the right course of action."

The passage to the immediate right of the lab led to a locked door, but the door on the left slid open to reveal a little office with a desk, TV, and computer equipment. The stuffed chairs, book cases and sofa made it very cozy and inviting, and the back window had its storm shutters open, affording us a lovely view of the murky landscape outside, so I seated myself on the couch, opening my bible to read Maria and Ruth the story of Moses at Meribah.

"I fear things are not going well," I said when I reached the end of the chapter. "Are there any humans left alive?"

"The roster says there are seventy families living on the base. Judging by the deaths, I think there might be about fifty or sixty left."

"Have you seen Rebecca?"

Maria shook her head. "No. After her mother died, she ran off somewhere."

I suppressed a sob. "How many Ss'sik'chtokiwij roam the base now?"

Her face reflected an expression of intense concentration. "Um...I think...counting the dead one and the three in my old cell, there could be as many as ten larvae, and I've seen at least three older ones, though none as large as you and Hissandra. A lot of Grandma's eggs have hatched, Sh'kassk'dwuissueblik. That's where all these larvae came from. I wouldn't be surprised if more hatched today."

I sighed.

"We may have to kill some of our brethren. Like you, I wish to convert as many Ss'sik'chtokiwij as possible, but when human lives are at stake, I do not think it will always be something we can do."

"As the humans say, `We shall cross that bridge when we come to it.'"

Ruth thoughtfully rubbed her jaw. "I still do not understand this scripture. If Moses can strike a rock one time and be blessed by the Lord, why did he get condemned when he did the same thing somewhere else?"

"It was not what the Lord told him to do." I cited the appropriate verse.

While our little meeting transpired, something kept scratching from behind a vent. The noises did not appear to be Ss'sik'chtokiwij, or anything threatening, so I let...whoever it was continue...repairing the air conditioner?

A panel clattered to the floor behind a leather armchair, and a wild eyed little blond girl crawled out, clad in overalls, automatic screwdriver clutched in one hand.

"Rebecca!" I gasped in delighted astonishment.

When she caught sight of me, she froze, one eyelid twitching as she stared in puzzlement.

She raised one hand slowly, pointing to me like a mummy in an old movie pronouncing a curse. "Err...knee..."

Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she collapsed on the floor, nearly banging her head against the sharp edge of the ventilation register on the way down.

I cleared a spot on the floor for her, watching with horror as involuntary spasms racked her body.

Even if I knew how to call for help, I doubted any would come.

I could only watch, and pray.