Moved with pity, I caressed my dead relative's shell with my claw. "She wasn't hurting anything. She may have even been able to help us. She could have become an ally."

The dandy reloaded his guns. "We already got one pussy alien. We don't need another."

"Be glad my Lord Jesus commands me to love my enemies, Mr. Mosby. That commandment is the only reason you remain alive right now."

The man reacted indifferently to my threat, deepening the hatred already growing in my heart. To add insult to injury, he even had the gall to threaten me thus: "And the only reason why I haven't pumped you full of lead, like your friends, is because you haven't laid a hand on me."

I silently prayed for God to give me strength to endure this man and not claw his guts out.

When Jesus endured Judas, Judas actually cared something for Jesus, and showed remorse. In contrast, this man only seemed to think of me as garbage, a soulless tool to exploit. I said a prayer for patience.

Dalgren's phone crackled. He pushed talk. "Yep?"

Sparkly Earring Guy's voice came on the frequency. "It's getting a little noisy out there. I heard shots being fired! You guys all right?"

Dalgren smirked. "Peachy."

"No one hurt by the blast, I trust?"

"Nope!"

"All right, my man! That's why we pay you the big bucks!"

Dalgren laughed at this. Sarcasm, I assumed.

Shelly frowned at the smoking hole in her army shirt. Saliva continued to eat away at it.

"You guys..." She held it up for the others to see. "I can't wear this, and I don't have another shirt."

Frye rolled her eyes in annoyance. "Why am I not surprised?"

Shelly just scowled, using an unburned portion of the fabric to dab at the acid that had reached her skin.

"Shelly," I said. "Are you truly a Christian?"

She looked at me like some terrible inquisitor ready to murder her for her faith. Still, faith she did have, enough to risk dying to attest to it. "Yes. I love my Lord."

I smiled. "So do I."

"You...actually love Jesus." Her tone indicated skepticism.

"Indeed. Perhaps we could have a bible study sometime."

Despite his laid back, unhurried manner, Hines interrupted us. "No offense, but could we please keep moving? I don't want to be out here longer than I have to."

Sighing, I walked forward, albeit slowly, for fear of seeing more innocent Ss'sik'chtokiwij die.

Shelly marched up alongside me. "Wait, how can you be a Christian? You're not a person. The bible doesn't even say anything about space monsters."

"John 10:16."

She dug out a phone, looking it up. "`He who hears you hears me, and he who rejects me rejects him who sent me.'" She frowned. "What...are you trying to say?"

I groaned. "I don't think you're reading from John."

The woman laughed. "Oops. My bad." She pushed buttons on the phone again. "`And I have other sheep, that are not of this fold. `I must bring them also, and they will heed my voice. So there shall be one flock, one shepherd.'"

Shelly thought about it and frowned. "Wait. That's not right! That verse is talking about gentiles, not space creatures!"

"I am not Jewish."

She furrowed her brow. "No. No. You're reading it wrong."

"Do you mean to tell me that Jesus is not Lord of all?"

"Save the theological debate for when we return to base," Mosby urged. "C'mon. Keep going."

The moment we reached the next intersection of corridors, Dalgren, seemingly unprovoked, drew his gun, firing at the ceiling.

Mosby appeared to have seen...(whatever it was) too, for he also opened fire.

A Ss'sik'chtokiwij body fell to the floor with a wet crunch and the muted clang of a ceiling plate.

Sensing no other Ss'sik'chtokiwij in the area, I placed charges on the walls, starting with the passageway on our right.

As I set a charge on the opposite side, it flashed and beeped like it were about to go off.

I looked up and saw Mosby and Dalgren standing close together, muttering as they stared at the foot computer, pointing at something.

"Wait, what are you doing! I'm not clear yet!"

Instead of explaining himself, Mosby only said, "The bomb isn't in the right position yet. We need you to move it."

"The bomb is armed!"

"Relax!" the man said. "You've got plenty of time."

Despite what they said, I knew I didn't. The devices gave the same tell-tale signs the others did before they exploded.

I leapt away just seconds before the passage erupted in brilliant light, waves of heat, and deafening noise. Debris flew every which way behind me.

I had set my things down in order to place the charges, which actually saved my life. I wouldn't have been able to escape the blast with such added weight.

Of course, I probably would've been better off carrying them all, for no one would dare detonating that many in such a small enclosed space.

Mosby burst out laughing as I picked myself up off the ground.

Dalgren laughed through his nose, then covered more laughter with a fake cough. "Sorry about that, Bert! Must've been...a defective charge!"

The men couldn't see me glaring as they suppressed giggles at my expense.

The expression on Shelly's face almost looked sympathetic, but I couldn't tell. Frye gave them this `Boys are so immature' look, and Hines, I suppose he just didn't get the joke.

All of a sudden, Mosby got serious, marching to the pile of rubble I'd just narrowly escaped.

He drew his gun, firing several shots.

I crept over to investigate.

The debris hadn't blocked everything. A small hole remained in the pile of metal, large enough for one Ss'sik'chtokiwij to stick her head and forelimbs through.

Judging by the awkward position, the Ss'sik'chtokiwij hadn't been able to go any further than that...or go back, like Winnie the Pooh in the rabbit hole.

Another tragic unjustified death. I felt weary of all this heartache, but couldn't do much about it. Even my most consoling thoughts about Rebecca and Timmy were tinged with sadness, and fear of what might be happening to them.

I didn't have a phone to call Snake with, and I doubted anyone else would who I spoke about, or would be willing to help me find out.

The last time I asked, Hines, in his usual careless drawl, simply stated that the children were fine, and Snake had it all taken care of, despite not actually checking to make sure.

I forced myself to push onwards, if only to be away from such a scene of tragedy, and to get back to the children.

Devon checked in with us again. This time Hines answered.

"Everything good? Everything holding up?"

"Yeah. We cool. Got it all under control, chief."

"Right, that's what I like to hear! Let's get this done. I believe in ya!"

"That's a big 10-4, chief."

As I walked, Shelly approached me again, speaking in low tones. "I'm sorry for what happened. I really am. You could have died, and they were just laughing about it."

"It's very kind of you to say that. Tell me. As a Christian, how do you forgive someone who doesn't care that they hurt you, and continually sins against you like there's nothing wrong with it?"

She eagerly provided an answer, more than likely assuming me to be some naive new convert. Her manner seemed somewhat condescending as she spoke. "Well, you know Jesus says to forgive our neighbor not seven times, but seven times seventy..."

[0000]

"So if they continually do evil, I'm just supposed to put up with it?"

Shelly frowned, her face seeming to indicate she at least had an inkling about whom I implied. She proceeded with caution. "What kind of evil is this..." I could see she meant to say `person', but maybe hoped I referred to another Ss'sik'chtokiwij. "...individual doing?"

I lowered my voice. "Those creatures the men have been shooting...they never once expressed intentions of doing you or your friends any harm. I have the power to convince others of my kind to love Jesus, and not attack people, but instead all these men want to do is shoot every one of us on sight. They don't care who gets hurt."

She gave me an incredulous stare. "You can convert other aliens?"

I nodded. "It is as challenging as you converting your Hindu friend, but it is possible."

"With God, all things are possible..."

Shelly explained the concept to Mosby and the other men. "...And if Christianity makes this one nice, maybe it'll work on others. Think about how many bullets we'd save if this actually worked!"

Mosby just sneered at her. "If it actually worked, a whole lot of people wouldn't be dead right now."

"Oh I don't know about that..." Frye wrinkled her face in disgust. "I'm sure your new alien converts could find many excuses to torture and kill anyone who doesn't agree with them, just like the regular Christians do."

"Nancy," Shelly blurted. "I love you, but I'm going to have to disagree with you on that. You see—"

"Can it!" Dalgren snapped. "Loud lips sink ships. Talk about your bullshit back at base. Hup two."

We now neared the final intersecting corridor, containing the storage unit with the chicken farm. The base's exit stood at the far end.

I hadn't paid much attention to this detail, as I hadn't thought it to be anything of note, but earlier I had spotted a small pile of carefully arranged debris in the center of this intersection, and it seemed that, in my absence, someone had built it up to form a sort of rough redoubt. A redoubt surrounded by half eaten bodies and severed limbs.

This would not have been a concern, had Frye not suddenly cried out, collapsing on the ground.

Someone was shooting at us.

Frye had been hit in the leg. She half knelt on the floor, trying rags around the wound with tears in her eyes.

From the same cargo pants pocket she'd pulled the rags, she drew a gun, crouching flat on the floor to avoid another shot.

Dalgren and Mosby opened fire on the little barrier, but our assailants merely ducked down, letting the scraps of metal take the brunt of the damage. Mosby got struck in the shoulder.

"Hey!" Hines shouted. "Stop shooting! We're human! You want these fucking aliens off the base or not!"

The face of a sour looking old woman poked out from the top of the fortification. I recognized her immediately, the one who had been in charge of Ssorzechola's confessional workshop.

She had fled the `tabernacle' with the others, before things took a turn for the worse, but I guess she never learned her lesson. "Go back to where you came from, vile heathens! This base belongs to Ssorzechola!"

"Ssorzechola is dead!" I shouted.

"Oh but you are wrong! She is not dead! She has only transcended the confines of her physical body! Her spirit is with us, even now!"

Mosby clicked back the hammer of his gun. "Let me help you transcend."

The woman's head exploded like a melon.

"Ssorzechola!" a young man with a shaven head screamed as he leapt out from behind the redoubt.

Thin, slight build, face pockmarked with acne. Basically still a teenager. His white acolyte robe billowed around him as he let out his war cry, firing several shots at the man in the suit.

Only two bullets struck true, the first piercing Mosby's designer vest, spraying blood on the fine material, the other hitting him in the thigh.

Mosby cast me an angry glare. "Alien bastard! You led us straight into a fucking trap!"

"What? Why do you think I knew anything about this?"

Gritting his teeth, he raised his gun.

A swift and unmerciful response:

From the floor, Frye shot the acolyte in the stomach.

Dalgren and Mosby drew their guns, cutting the young man's legs out from under him, his white robe turning red as he dropped to the floor.

The zealot looked up at me and smiled. "Take my sins for Lord Ssorzechola. Allow me to be perfect so I may be one with her."

"Never. You picked the wrong master."

He frowned at me in dismay, but before he could utter a word of protest, three shots opened his skull.

His countenance remained frozen in that expression of dismay, even at death.

I knelt to examine the young man's corpse.

Mosby, though injured, still had enough energy to club me across the face with the butt of his gun. "When we get back, I'm gonna talk to Snake about ventilating your skull."

"Father, forgive them," I whispered, prying the victim's mouth open.

Dalgren prodded me with his shoe. "You can eat later."

"Eat, nothing! I must see if they're infected!"

"With what?" He sounded unsettled.

Instead of answering, I stretched open the wounds, searching inside their interior, the skull.

No sign of worms.

I checked the dead woman. Similarly clean.

Dalgren looked even more worried. "Anything?"

I shook my head. "They were merely crazy."

He laughed. "I could have told you that."

I noticed the Ss'sik'chtokiwij presence a little too late. Perhaps my subconscious hadn't wanted to warn the humans, or maybe the gunfire distracted me and everyone else from noticing.

Regardless of the reason, I failed to notice two hiding above the ceiling, until one dropped on Mosby's back, tearing through flesh and bone like someone's Thanksgiving leftovers. I supposed my skull would remain unperforated.

A second, bearing a shell patterned with a spiderweb design, dropped on Shelly.

Before it could injure her, I wrestled the Ss'sik'chtokiwij to the carpet. "Get out of here while you still can! Your life is in danger!"

At this precise moment, Dalgren fired upon Mosby's assailant until she stopped moving.

Spiderweb flinched when she saw it happen, too afraid to run.

"Go." I shoved her away. "Hurry!"

The Ss'sik'chtokiwij scurried up the wall, darting out of sight.

A larger sized Ss'sik'chtokiwij with spiral patterning on her dome came leaping over the redoubt, knocking Hines to the floor. The man screamed as acid saliva splashed him in the face.

I grabbed an exoskeleton bedecked with broken swirls and curling marks, wrestling her down like I'd done the other one.

I told her to leave, for her own safety.

"No! This is my territory!"

So we got into a fight, clawing each other, hammering each other's bodies against the flooring.

When the first bullet struck my side, I thought it had been a misfire, but when a second all-too-close shot followed it, and I noticed where the muzzle of Dalgren's gun pointed.

He didn't care who he hit, just as long as we both were dead.

I did not know this Ss'sik'chtokiwij, and she wanted to kill me and my companions, a greater sign of aggression than most other Ss'sik'chtokiwij had exhibited up to this point.

I allowed myself get pressed to the floor, staying down, shoving my attacker in the direction of the weapon fire.

After a few shots pelted her, my enemy understood the situation, rolling me on top of her.

Although good for making me a target, I had the freedom of mobility, so I simply punched her down and bolted for the redoubt.

It angered me that `stray' shots kept coming my way, even when I yelled, "It's me! I'm Ernie!"

I guess they thought we all looked the same.

I hid behind the fortification, listening as the other Ss'sik'chtokiwij shrieked and died from a barrage of ammunition.

"Is she gone?" I called with my back to the fortification.

"Why don't you come out and see?" Dalgren challenged.

When I stuck my head up to get a good look, the man fired at me.

"Hey!" I shouted. "Why are you attacking me? What did I do to you?"

Dalgren answered by squeezing the trigger again.