I trembled as I pried my handcrafted gift from my dead cousin's clutches, sobbing as I contemplated this utterly unnecessary act of sacrifice.

Perhaps Dabmuvum attempted to repay me for leading me to the Savior. I saw the empathy, the desire to bring mother and daughter closer together, and a well meaning attempt at evangelizing my unsaved child, but also a foolish waste of life for an unimportant strip of replaceable woven thread.

I didn't want to take the items. They'd forever have the taint of death, of loss, the memory of the blindly obedient Ss'sik'chtokiwij who had not matured enough to gain common sense.

Still, I couldn't just leave them where they lay or bury them, for they had been delivered to me at great price. It would shame Dabmuvum's memory.

"Thank you, Dabmuvum," I told her corpse. "Your act of service will not be forgotten. Rest well from your labors of the faith. May we meet again under happier circumstances."

The automatic cannons pointed their barrels at me, rattling threateningly, but nothing came out.

The soldiers had set up cannons in an adjacent corridor. I checked that one next.

Not been quite as effective as it seemed. Only saw five lay dead for those three hundred rounds spent. The Ss'sik'chtokiwij there must have tested the defenses of this security perimeter. It seemed not all my kin suffered from lack of knowledge.

Though pleased to see so few dead, I worried the wastefulness could eventually put the humans in danger. I reported my findings back to `Corporal' Hicks (He had been promoted in my absence).

Back within the fortifications, we discovered more bad news: Through the windows of one of the dwellings, we noticed a blue column of steam issuing from the processing station's emergency venting systems. The station had not been maintained in weeks, and the damage from the APC smashing through the wall had taken its toll.

"We have approximately four hours before this facility undergoes a complete meltdown," Bishop said.

Gorman, now well enough to walk around with a bandaged head, peered at the blue geyser and swore.

Hudson punched a wall. "I thought you said we had seventeen days for a rescue ship to arrive!"

"That was before we knew about the damage."

Ellen leaned against a window. "How...big a meltdown?"

"Forty megatons. You won't want to be anywhere near this base when it happens."

"What the hell can we do, man?" Hudson yelled. "The APC is FUBAR! How the fuck are we going to get out of here in only four hours?"

"We have to get the other ship down." Ellen gazed at the ceiling. "Bishop. Is there any way we can contact the Sulaco and send down a second air transport by remote?"

"It's possible, but the transmitter dish is out of alignment, and the hardware is damaged. We can't access the controls from here. They have to be adjusted manually from the uplink tower."

Hudson threw a coffee mug. "That's just great, man! We can't go outside without running into those things!"

An argument ensued, each person arguing that the other should go and make the adjustment. In the background, Bishop kept quietly saying, "I'll go."

I'd finished my daughter's present, putting in the last weave as I listened to all this.

The experience with Dabmuvum had soured me so much that I nearly vowed to never pick up the needle and yarn again.

However, textile crafts are a honorable, peaceful activity, a symbol of everything good and loving and nonviolent. The disciples had their fishing and tent making. I had knitting.

I sniffed a little and kissed the finished scarf, silently praying for God to use the item for His glory.

Hudson stabbed a finger in my direction. "Why can't we send the bug out there? He's friends to all the fucking things!"

I tried to volunteer, but Ripley shot the idea down. "As great as that idea sounds, I don't trust him. I mean, if that thing knows anything about fixing the transmitter, why hasn't he done it already? Why are there so many dead people, and why haven't we heard of any evacuations?"

"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm no expert. Nobody ever gave me an electronics degree, and I only learned how to work the machine—"

Hudson took this to mean that I didn't know anything. "Jeez, that's fucking great!"

They stopped listening, resuming their argument.

"I hope you're not expecting me to go!" Hudson paced the floor.

"Wait..." Burke cast me a thoughtful glance. "Even if Specimen 73 can't work the transmitter, can't we at least send him out with a technician?"

"That's genius, man! Remember how well that worked for Apone and Wierzbowski?"

I sighed. People never seem to forget your failures.

"I'll do it," Bishop said again.

At last they stopped bickering long enough to take notice.

"Yeah! Good idea!" Hudson sounded almost giddy. "Of course Bishop has to go! He's the only one who can do it!"

The android didn't look so eager. "I'd rather not do it if I didn't have a choice. I am built with a self preservation protocol. But only I appear to possess the required precision and advanced technical skills this mission depends on."

A subtle slam, perhaps?

A long electrical conduit ran along the underground corridor, from the base to the processing station, accessible through the floor paneling. Although cluttered with wires, Bishop chose to use this impossibly cramped tube for his journey, taking with him a flashlight and a small tool box.

With no readily accessible access hatches, they had to use a cutting torch to let him in the pipe, then seal him inside once he started crawling.

Vasquez waved goodbye. "Vaya con Dios." Not sure that's an appropriate blessing for a robot who probably had no theological beliefs, but I suppose it didn't hurt. People did say prayers over boats, and houses. And then, there was the self aware Gretchen Goose program.

Things got relatively quiet and peaceful after Bishop's departure. Newt rested, Ellen and Hicks standing guard.

The most capable babysitters I had found to date, I thought. Although not yet ready to completely abandon her to these new guardians and move on with my life, I did at least feel confident they could watch my little friend for more than ten minutes without getting killed.

I approached the woman, watching Hicks giving her lessons on how to use the grenade launcher on a machine gun. The man had his arms around her in a way that seemed almost romantic.

"Terribly sorry to interrupt. But would it trouble anyone here if I left this little encampment for a few minutes to deliver a gift to my daughter?" I showed them the scarf.

The man and woman glanced at each other.

Hicks snickered. "All right. But when that transport comes down, and you're not there, we're leaving without you."

Ellen rolled her eyes. "Hicks, we're leaving without him anyway. He won't pass through quarantine."

She gave me a forced smile. "I'm sorry. I...I wish..." Perhaps she intended to say something about how she wanted me to come along with her, but didn't finish the sentence because she didn't really mean it. She was just trying to be nice.

"It's okay," I sighed. "Nothing in this world can separate us from the love of Christ, not nakedness, nor peril, nor the sword, nor even...a forty megaton nuclear explosion."

I thought I glimpsed at least a little sympathy in Hicks' facial expression. He glanced at Ellen. "What if we...shuttle him to the other side of the planet on the way out? He'll be well out of range..."

"What's the point? He'll be bombarded with radiation, God knows what he'd eat, let alone drink. I doubt he'll be able to find a case of Tidy Bowl or whatever he needs..."

"At least he won't get blown to bits."

I nodded. "Thank you. Fasting in the wilderness is infinitely preferable to the alternative."

Ellen gave me a dismissive wave. "Go to your daughter. But remember what he said: That transport will be leaving, with or without you."

Not wishing to tarry further, I hurried down the open corridor guarded by Hudson and Vasquez, searching the base for my daughter's scent.

I found my larva sleeping inside a ceiling panel. Climbing upside down on the metal tiles, I opened the compartment closest to her.

"Mother?" she moaned in a groggy voice.

I purred. "Hello, daughter. I finished your present. Come down and I'll show it to you."

I showed her the scarf, and how to tie it.

"It's very beautiful."

"No, daughter. It is you who are beautiful. This is merely an interesting assemblage of animal hair fibers. Sadly, Dabmuvum gave her life to retrieve the materials. I ask you to remember her as you wear it."

[0000]

Shauqauzjarruba double knotted it around her neck portion. "I will never take it off."

I suppressed a sob. "Just remember. Dabmuvum was a new Christian, who loved the humans as I do. Do not dishonor her memory by seeking revenge."

She gave me a slight nod, but I could tell she reserved some doubts. "Is it truly Christmas?"

"Our planet rotates around a different sun, and our months have different lengths. Although it's unlikely that today is a date coinciding with the earth December holiday, my human daughter wanted Christmas. If she gets one, you deserve one too."

I swallowed hard. "Daughter, you must come with me. In four short hours, Grandmother's home is going to explode, taking with it all the Ss'sik'chtokiwij in all the human buildings that surround it. If you come with me, I can ensure your safety. The humans will place us in an air vehicle and take us where the explosion will not harm us. But you must come with me, and hurry." I didn't know for a fact that they'd allow her onboard, but I had to try.

"So you are Noah," she scoffed. "I am to join you, and accept your human loving faith, or be destroyed by a rain of fire and brimstone."

"No, daughter. The machines around Grandmother's house are unstable due to the foolishness of human builders, and Ss'sik'chtokiwij killing the humans that maintain their inefficient devices. These mistakes will destroy every Ss'sik'chtokiwij in this complex, and none of the humans know how to fix it."

Spoken thus in her own terms, my daughter at last understood. "It sounds like it is the humans' fault that the did not build a machine that continues to run after a Ss'sik'chtokiwij has killed them."

"Perhaps."

"Will these rescuers of your also rescue Hissandra, Anjonssud and Grandmother?"

I lowered my shoulders. "I fear they would not. But for you I am certain they can make an exception."

"I want no such exception. Not without Grandmother. If your rescuers cannot take her and my other loved ones onboard, I want no part with them. I would rather die with my family."

I choked down a sob. "I understand the feeling."

Shauqauzjarruba shook her head, possibly in disgust. "I'm not sure you do."

She scampered away from me.

"Shauqauzjarruba!" I shouted. "Wait!"

She stopped for a moment.

"Tell Grandmother and everyone else to get as far away from these human buildings as they can. Tell them about the explosion."

Shauqauzjarruba stared at me in silence for a moment, then darted down the corridor.

Someone cried out in pain.

A Ss'sik'chtokiwij cry, not a human one, but as a Christian, I couldn't afford to be indifferent to the needs of others, regardless.

In an unfinished corridor, I found the victim being being beaten by a larger Ss'sik'chtokiwij.

Anjonssud, that same cobra patterned Ss'sik'chtokiwij I'd seen at the processing station, slugged a smaller one in the gut.

As I neared them, the bully tore a pointy spine off the victim, causing her to shriek again.

"What has she done to you?" I asked.

The attacker didn't bother to face me. "This Ss'sik'chtokiwij has been telling everyone to believe in something called a Jesus and not hurt human beings."

"I see nothing wrong with that."

Anjonssud spun around, and I suddenly noticed she wore a weapon from the Pale Ones' ship. "Then perhaps I shall destroy you instead! You've certainly caused our family enough trouble!"

She clenched her claw into a fist, causing a scimitar blade to pop out of the weapon.

Before Anjonssud could attack anyone, I rammed my body into her, shouting to the other Christian. "Go!"

The victim hurried away to safety, leaving me to face the enemy alone.

The blade flashed. I leapt back...

...and accidentally slipped over a candle bearing the likeness of Joseph, mortal father of Jesus. I stumbled and fell on my back.

Anjonssud came down upon me, swinging her blade, but at the last moment I picked up a Pope Benedict candle, blocking the attack. Glass and pieces of wax showered onto my face.

I rolled away from her, picking up the nearest weapon, a section of chrome plumbing pipe.

With this I successfully blocked two of her swings, but upon the third, her blade proved superior, lopping my pipe in half as easily as a steak knife cuts through a potato.

The pipe, sliced at an angle, resembled a crude sort of a spear, which I used in a risky jabbing attack.

Before I could injure her, Anjonssud kicked me into a wall, retaliating with a shrieking overhead slash.

It turns out junction boxes slice just as easily as pipes under that superior blade.

Anjonssud's weapon made contact with the electrical wiring, and her whole body froze up, spasming involuntarily from the flow of alternating current. She collapsed on the floor.

"Is she dead?" the Ss'sik'chtokiwij Christian asked.

I knelt next to the body. "Not sure..."

A pair of claws suddenly clamped around my throat. I found myself being lifted up and dragged to the wall.

I clawed and struggled against my attacker, attempting escape, but to no avail.

Anjonssud shoved my head into the junction box, and everything went dark.

I saw stars, and my limbs refused to operate, but...somehow I lived.

The darkness made me think I had tread in my Master's footsteps so well that darkness had symbolically fallen over the planet for three hours, as in the crucifixion.

When the red emergency lights switched on, I decided this to be merely the result of power disruption.

In the dim photographic darkroom glow, I saw my enemy dead. Two Ss'sik'chtokiwij of friendlier disposition approached me, the injured Ss'sik'chtokiwij I'd rescued, and a larva in a scarf longer than its body, draped over its back like a cape.

"Did I die?" I groaned.

"No, mom," said the small one. "Lisconu and I pulled you away from the Sparkly Hand."

For some reason, the phrase made me think of Michael Jackson. "Sparkly Hand? What are you talking about?"

"It is an invisible thing. When it made you stop moving, we tried to pull you away, but we both experienced it, a heavy hand that made our bodies limp and caused us to see sparkly things."

"It is called `electricity'. It is a thing humans use to operate their devices."

"So it is not God. Lisconu thought it was God because it made fire when she prayed to it."

I sighed and shook my head.

"Was this the same thing you used to kill Sanchirck?" Lisconu asked.

I nodded.

"Then it is a miracle that you survived."

"It was not powerful enough. It comes in varying strengths."

I smiled at my daughter's companion. Her shell had an interesting interlocking ellipsoid pattern to it, like fat cells under a microscope. "How is it that you came to know the Lord?"

She nodded at my daughter. "We shared minds. She did not intend to convert me, but I was convinced by what I saw."

Shauqauzjarruba growled in displeasure. "I will not share minds again. The other Ss'sik'chtokiwij are right. You are xulrubdan, but it is a xulrubdan of the brain."

With that, she disappeared down another corridor.

"Why is everything red?" Lisconu asked.

"The wiring is damaged. This must be an emergency backup system."

That's when I heard machine gun fire.

"I must go and check on the humans." I marched into the connecting hallway.

Lisconu followed me. "I will join you."

"No, I need you to get as far away from these buildings as possible. This place is going to explode. Tell whoever you can to join you. You have less than four hours to get away from here, or die."

Trembling in fear, Lisconu gave me a low bow. "I will do as you command, cousin."

She rushed away.

Alone once more, I ran toward the sounds of screaming and gunfire.

When I returned to the encampment, I found someone had wielded the doors shut. The rattle of machine guns, the screams, both human and Ss'sik'chtokiwij, did not bode well.

I climbed in an air duct, crawling above the room.

I wanted to continue on, through the ventilation registers in search of Rebecca and Ellen, but a bullet ridden Ss'sik'chtokiwij corpse blocked my passage. I had to crawl out a hole my relations had melted in the side wall, out onto the metal tiles.

Parts of the ceiling had been torn asunder, to allow Ss'sik'chtokiwij easy access to their prey.

A packed area. I could hardly move without bumping into someone.

"Excuse me," I said as I squeezed past a blotchy looking Ss'sik'chtokiwij.

Seconds later, a machine gun rattled, and the stranger fell into the room with a spray of steaming blood and dismembered organs.

[0001]

I hurried around the perimeter, steering clear of automatic weaponry. I kept searching through the grating, trying to see if I could spot Ellen or the child, but the scene had become so chaotic that I could hardly tell what was going on.

Hudson fired upon everything within his limited field of vision, using profuse profanity while doing so.

Unfortunately, his field of vision did not cover what lay beneath his feet. A Ss'sik'chtokiwij burst through the floor paneling, shredding the man to pieces.

I crawled inside a vent.

Upon reaching its opposite end, I found Burke, standing by himself in an equipment room in the back of the lab.

He edged away from a locked pressure door, listening nervously as Newt and Ellen yelled and banged their fists upon its metal surface.

Instead of helping, he backed away from them.

"Open the door, Burke!" Ellen yelled.

The man didn't answer, he just retreated further.

I opened the register, climbing into the room with him. "Burke, you must open that door."

Burke shook his head. "No. I definitely must not. Nothing against them, Number 73, but the moment that door is open, it's all over. Right now, I've got all the exits closed off. They might not make it, but at least I have a chance." He paused. "...Would you mind closing whatever hole you used to get in here?"

I frowned at him. When would they ever figure out what sex I was? "I actually did that already."

"Good boy."

"What profiteth a man if he gains the whole world, yet forfeits his soul?"

Burke scowled. "It's life, Number 73. The correct translation is life. And I'll lose it if I open that door and let all those things come in. I'm safe here."

"The bible also says he who loses his life for my sake will find it."

"Discretion is the better part of valor, Number 73."

Ellen and Rebecca abruptly stopped pounding and yelling. I feared for the worst.

I tried the door, but it wouldn't budge.

"Yeah, 73. It's missing something. I kinda dropped it down a garbage chute." Burke smirked, spreading his hands in mock apology. It reminded me of a recording I saw of a chef `accidentally' dropping chocolate into a vat of peanut butter. "Oops!"

Hearing a noise, Burke retreated toward the back of the room, staring nervously at the ceiling.

He opened a side door. "See you, Mickey. Good luck with the thermonuclear meltdown."

Why could nobody say my name right?

Burke stepped through the threshold, pulling the doors shut behind him, failing to notice my sister crawling down the rear wall.

"Burke," I blurted.

Too late. The man screamed as Hissandra clawed him to pieces.

I found it strange that the man cried "Oh God" as he died. I think this was the most fervent prayer he had made in a long, long time.

Shaking my head sadly, I climbed back out the way I came, searching for signs of my human friends.

The sound of muffled machine gun fire led me to the maintenance tunnels.

I contemplated joining the humans in there, but lacked identification (my flag was gone) so would more than likely get fired upon.

Thoroughly familiar with the tunnels by now, I could guess their destination, and how to get there. I marched several paces ahead of the shooting, approximating the path of the tunnels leading to the transmitter.

Spotting a tail poking out from an access hatch, I yanked the Ss'sik'chtokiwij into the hallway, attempting to clear a path for the team.

Someone had left a Water Services hatch open. My helpful attempt got me beaten unconscious and dropped into a sewer.

When I regained consciousness, I climbed out of the sewage, making human sobbing noises as I cleared out my lungs.

Something rumbled like thunder. I nearly fell back in as the whole building trembled. Someone had set off a rather large explosive.

I would later find this disturbance had been caused by an injured Vasquez and Gorman committing suicide with a hand grenade.

Not knowing how long I'd been unconscious or submerged, I did not have much hope of reuniting with my friends, but I set about searching anyway, climbing to the mouth of the chute I'd been dropped through.

"Ripley!" Rebecca screamed.

The voice sounded remarkably close. I whipped around with a start.

"Newt!" Ellen...calling from the sub basement. Very promising.

I hurried down the low walkway, searching for a small red shape with my infrared.

There. Up ahead, I glimpsed the sparks of a cutting torch, and below, a little creature in overalls wading through milky white waste fluid steaming with treatment chemicals.

"Hold on, honey!" Ellen shouted. "Stay where you are! We're almost there!"

Newt nodded, anxiously searching her surroundings for signs of danger.

She gave me a little wave.

"Ernie's here," she muttered. The sound of the cutting torch drowned it out.

Before I could prepare myself, a big black cobra patterned Ss'sik'chtokiwij body arose from the foul chemically treated liquid, dragging my dear friend screaming into the depths.

"Rebecca!"

"Newt!" Ellen screamed from the half finished hole they'd cut through the flooring.

I searched the area, but couldn't tell where they went.

"Ernie!" the woman yelled. "Straight ahead! Near the end of that channel!"

She probably wouldn't have made such a request if she didn't think I was her only chance. Still, the thought of her trusting me this much put added wind beneath my sails. I refused to let her down.

I rushed onward, until I found water churning in a telling way.

Rebecca screamed as she struggled to escape her captor, going under as she lost the fight.

I leapt on the dark bubbling form that held the girl, shrieking and ripping at the foe with my claws.

The moment I did this, a second, equally large Ss'sik'chtokiwij sprang from beneath the sewage, grabbing me.

Her shell pattern resembled the kind of mold that forms in iced tea when it's left out too long, her build like mine, roughly an equal match in terms of size and strength.

We thrashed in the putrid liquid like two angry alligators, smashing each other into various surfaces. It felt like me and Sanchirck all over again, but with higher stakes.

Sanchirck...A guilty feeling rose in my stomach.

No time to dwell on that now. I found a pistol someone had flushed (for reasons unclear to me), pressing it against the other Ss'sik'chtokiwij's temple area.

The hammer clicked back and snapped down, but nothing happened, due to being waterlogged.

I beat my attacker with the butt, but she knocked it out of my claws. The weapon sank beneath the slime.

Rebecca, in the meantime, let out gurgling screams as she got dragged further and further off to who knows where.

My head struck a piece of rusty gutter, and the metal broke loose.

Desperate for any sort of weapon, I shoved it into Moldy's face.

I broke most of her teeth, but she ended up knocking the chunk of metal into the sludge.

Bam. My head went down again, striking painfully against the maintenance sidewalk.

Fungus face picked up a discarded pipe wrench, striking me in the skull.

I submerged myself to avoid another strike, and in doing so discovered a rusty switchblade.

The weapon had been left in its extended form. Fortunate, since rust prevented it from ever retracting again.

I sprang up, ramming the blade through the bottom of Ms. Mold's jaw, close to the throat, but it didn't kill her.

In reply, my enemy clobbered me with the wrench.

Less than four hours to leave the base (maybe less than three), and Anjonssud was dragging Rebecca away. For these reasons, I fought with extra urgency. To the untrained observer, the sight must have resembled a crocodile bringing down a water buffalo, though they'd be hard pressed to identify which was which.

Spore Shell pulled the knife out of her jaw, attempting to stab me between the shoulder blades, but the rusty, acid melted blade broke off the moment the tip got in partway.

I yanked the bit of metal free. She threw me into the walkway.

Glimpsing something long and spear-like, I flailed around until I caught it, shoving one end into Mold Body's mouth.

The item: A special type of net they used to fish large pieces of unfilterable debris from the sewage.

The net smashed up and bent in her mouth. She shook her head back and forth, ripping it off the end of the pole. Her claw slapped the lower piece away.

As the rod drifted downstream, I reached for it, but Spore Shell grabbed me by the throat, lifting me out of the dirty water.

I bared my worms in attempts to scare her, but it didn't work.

"So it is you! The one that kills family and tells us to worship your god!" Her grip tightened, cracking my plates, constricting my breath. "Tell me, how does it feel to die for nothing?"

I curled my tail around the rapidly escaping pole. "You tell me. You're the one who lives for nothing!"

I thrust the metal rod through the roof of her mouth, shoving it upwards as far as it could go, until burning liquid gushed out and she collapsed upon me, dead.

It didn't feel good, but this had been necessary.

Less than three hours remaining before takeoff, I estimated, maybe two depending on how long I'd been unconscious.

I ran after the girl.