The time of relative freedom had ended. I sensed the snare circling about us the moment Mr. Weyland appeared in the foundry. But now, as we gaped in stunned silence at woman's dead body, I could feel invisible cords snapping taut.

Mr. Weyland approached me slowly with his arms raised. His wound looked nasty, and I told him so.

"Your wounds don't look so good either," he said in his characteristic deadpan voice. "We'll both get treated the moment we get onboard the ship."

I introduced myself, then my larvae.

"You speak surprisingly well for a xenomorph."

I thanked him, but when he asked for an explanation, I could only answer, "It's a long story, and we're all wounded."

"You're right. We'll have plenty of time to talk about that later."

The man practically fell over on his back.

At first, I thought this to be the result of his wounds, or an overreaction to what I said, but then I noticed Grandmother standing behind me.

"Is that thing safe?"

"She's my grandmother," I said.

"That doesn't answer my question."

Grandmother belched loudly. "Those horrible worms."

"You are not in any danger," I said.

"Is David okay?" Grandmother asked.

Weyland nodded. "He's fine...and so is your English."

"Thank you. What about the young one? Is she well?" She frowned at her bullet wounds. "I'm hurting."

"We should continue this conversation on the ship."

Morse and Golic were still alive. While we talked, Golic had his wounds bandaged, so now he limped out of the exit under armed guard, with Morse supporting him.

Meanwhile, the Asian man and a pair of white suits picked up the woman's body, gathering up the pieces.

Weyland waved to the exit. "Come with me. The sooner we get on the ship, the sooner we can help your friends."

"I'm not sure I should come with you," I said. "I don't appreciate people sticking probes in my brain."

"You're just going to have to trust me. There's nothing for you here, and you're bleeding. Winter is coming, and you'll be the only one tending the furnace. What will you do when the food supply runs out, and no more shipments arrive? Are you going to continue breeding rats?"

"The Lord will provide." I seriously could have done it. I can read. I can figure out how to breed rats, fix wounds, and stoke a furnace.. It would work (1).

A little iron edged into Weyland's voice. "Let me phrase this differently, Ernie. That ship isn't going to move without you and your grandma onboard. You refuse to move, you, grandma, and your friends die from their injuries."

I sighed and nodded. What choice did I have?

I could have run. I could have just let them die. I probably should have. But Mr. Weyland seemed like an interesting person, and I wanted to know more about him. Sure, his men killed just about everyone in the prison, and even now he had guns pointed at me, but he seemed to be rather decent with my friends. He hadn't even wanted to hurt Ripley.

Saint Paul was able to use his imprisonment to great effect in converting his jailers. Even if Weyland did commit the horrors Ripley described, Saul of Tarsus used to be just as bad before he saw a vision and the Lord turned him around.

Plus I wanted to see my friends again.

So I limped after him, following his group out of the prison, where the ship awaited.

Weyland's vehicle was called a `Highliner', a massive machine with a curiously inefficient design, like a capital letter T laid on a horizontal, a huge barrel-like portion forming the cross piece.

Instead of using the landing pad, they had parked on a dusty field nearby. Even the brief storm did nothing to stop the gusts of grit and sand.

I got led up a boarding ramp, into a large cargo hold, filled with unlabeled crates, weaponry, and a cluster of all terrain vehicles. I could have used something there to escape, but again that wouldn't help my friends, and I would have bled out. (2)

Ladders led up into a secondary store room, a lounge, and a small office. People stared at me as they went about packing things up.

They led me across a closed bomb door, into a laboratory filled with medical supply cabinets and computers.

Its doors were blue bulletproof glass with a caduceus printed across them. A cluster of glass tanks at the rear resembled the type of equipment researchers at the LV 426 facility used on socmavaj.

It also held a wide array of scientific devices, large illuminated magnifiers, electrostatic free stations, wiring and soldering tools, and lockers containing just about every conceivable earthly chemical compound.

A narrow walled in corridor ran along the outside of this surgical theater, through which Morse got led. Golic, in the meantime, lay on a crash cart, watching an older Indian woman pulling bullets out of his legs.

Mr. Weyland took this opportunity to summon another doctor to patch up his own wounds.

I found Pillow and a long nosed brunette woman with glasses standing over an examination table, both clad in scrubs and surgical masks, operating on Sharad's liver.

I watched with breathless anxiety as the doctors worked.

The eyes on Sharad's eyestalks, spread on pillows, drifted closed as she breathed from an oxygen mask.

Her dalmatian spotted body lay half covered under the bright surgical lamp, the incision area shaved to prevent infection from her hairy body. She never had to shave her body, despite the lice problem, the child hadn't been inside the premises long enough for that to be a concern. Her long opossum-like tail and monkey feet twitched under the blue covers.

"I thought you were going to go to a surgical station," I said.

To transfuse her alien patient with the necessary type of blood, Pillow had an IV stuck in her wrists, which she kept elevated as she instructed her companion how to navigate the nonhuman body. Not the best idea, even with a tail propping her up in a standing position. "We have the equipment here. Mrs. Hannigan here is a qualified medical surgeon."

Pillow leaned over the table, looking faint. "Don't make the incision just yet. You first need to...clamp off the tugocna loddoca."

Mrs. Hannigan was brown haired, apparently of Germanic descent, clad in blue scrubs. "Please, Pillow. This isn't the first damaged liver I've excised."

In the meantime, human scientists put bibs under me and my grandmother to protect the floor from acid, plucked bullets out of our exoskeletons, patched things up with a type of solder.

Mr. Barnes eyed his wife with concern. "You should eat something. There's a box of Nutter Butters in one of these cabinets..."

"Thanks, honey, but I don't want to infect the incision site." She glanced at Weyland. "Where's my blood? I told your friend to get the emergency supplies."

Weyland, still being treated for gunshot wounds, activated a communications system on the wall. "Mr. Yutani. Were you notified of an emergency blood supply?"

After a period of silence, the Asian man's voice replied, "We're searching the wreckage as we speak. I've just extracted the cadaver of a small child alien."

"Oxana," Pillow gasped.

"We've found a medical room," Yutani continued. "We should have the blood in a moment."

"I wish there was something I could do," David said. "But I'm not medically trained."

"I have an idea." Weyland pulled a gun-like device from a cabinet, loaded a cartridge into it.

Before Pillow could utter a word of protest, he shot something into her neck.

"What!" the Abreya shouted. "What did you just do!"

"Relax. I just gave your blood supply a boost with some sugar, vitamins, proteins and electrolytes."

"You'd better pray I'm not allergic," Pillow growled.

"You're welcome."

"Where's Thonwa?" I asked.

Pillow shook her head. "She's in cryogenic stasis at the moment. I can't operate on two aliens at once, and I don't trust these...people with her biology." She glanced at me and Grandmother. "Mike, you shouldn't be letting anyone in here. There's a contamination risk."

"I'm afraid the large one won't be able to squeeze through the side corridor," Weyland said. "And the refrigeration unit is in the rear. Do these xenomorphs have any medical training I should be aware of?"

Pillow laughed. "None whatsoever. Unless you count the healing power of prayer."

David raised an eyebrow.

I folded my claws. "I'd be happy to oblige."

Mr. Barnes and Grandmother joined me, petitioning our Lord for his aid.

All of a sudden, Newt started crying. "Why did she have to kill herself for? They could have saved her!"

"I don't know," I said. "But the woman was very bitter."

"There might be a way to bring her back," Weyland said. "I'm not going to promise anything yet, but I think there might be a way."

"She got shot to death," I pointed out. "I'm not sure I'd want her back in that state, even if it were possible."

The man didn't respond.

[0000]

Mrs. Hannigan cut into the bile duct, or whatever that is that conveys fluid to the Abreya's second liver.

The vehicle rocked slightly as it rose into the air, making me worry about mishaps with the scalpel.

The guinea pig faced humanoid leaned on the operating table, clearly feeling the effects of blood loss.

The worriment was clear on her husband's face. "You want me to hold something? We might be able to, I don't know, get you a sports bottle or something with a sports drink or Pedialyte in it..."

"You just want me to drink like a guinea pig."

He chuckled. "A sexy guinea pig, maybe. Anyway, it's better than getting another shot in the neck, right?"

"I can get her another," Mr. Weyland suggested. "There doesn't seem to be any allergic reaction."

Pillow growled. "No."

"How about a nutritional shake? They're very good. I take them whenever I'm too busy to eat. What flavor do you want? I got vanilla, chocolate and cherry..."

Pillow sighed. "Cherry, please."

Weyland motioned to one of his labcoated assistants.

A short labcoated African American woman with a bun hairdo brought forth a large bottle that looked suspiciously like a pet feeder.

Pillow rolled her goat's eyes when she saw it. "You have got to be kidding."

David took the bottle, lifting it to her face. "Would it help if I said I've always secretly fantasized about doing this?"

His wife's skin flushed green with embarrassment. "Not...really." Then, in a lower tone, she growled, "I'm going to get you for this!"

With a grin, David put the `straw' end of the bottle to her mouth, and she slowly lapped up the shake.

"This is making me so hot," he teased.

In the meantime, Mrs. Hannigan cauterized something. From my vantage point, I could see the smoke, but not much else. My two larva sat quietly on my shoulder plates, as fascinated as I was about the procedure.

Now that the bleeding had stopped, I cradled Pillow's first baby in my arms. He was an adorable ball of fur, tail and a face like his mother. Nathan should have screamed at me, but the boy seemed oddly at peace in my bony arms, pressed against my exoskeleton. Julia and Newt stood on my shoulders, smiling at the infant.

Sarah paced the floor, her face expressing the same anxiety that everyone else felt.

Grandmother stood behind me. Her large exoskeleton could barely fit in the tiny space, but she made herself as small as she could. "I do not understand what they are doing. How is the removal of an organ from this little one going to allow her to keep living?"

I explained to her how it worked.

"That is strange. When I remove organs from a creature, it always dies."

"It is a complicated interrelationship of organisms. Simply removing something can be fatal. New bonds must be formed in order to keep the others functioning."

"So theoretically I could take only part of a human away and eat it, and it would still live."

"It would not be a loving Christian thing to do. But yes, theoretically."

She paused in thought for a moment, watching the females work. "Can I have that liver when they're done with it?"

I stared at her. "I thought you were so full that your belly hurt."

"I am. I was hoping they could save it for later."

"I'm afraid that's impossible," Weyland said. "This female's liver is a valuable scientific resource. It needs to be studied. But if you want livers, I'm sure something can be arranged." He glanced at Newt and my other family members. "For all of you."

"Please tell me that's not as creepy as it sounds," said David.

"Really," Newt agreed. "I might be in an alien body, but I'm not going to start eating people!"

The man coughed. "Not human beings, of course. We have a wide range of different animals to choose from."

Grandmother nodded. Newt just looked glum.

"You trust me," I said to Weyland. "I and Grandmother are strong and powerful, yet you do not put us in restraints."

"I watched how you acted when my soldiers came in," he said. "You did not harm a hair on their heads. Then, of course, I noticed how the prisoners were still alive, and they weren't frightened by you."

"Sh'kassk'dwuissueblik's a good gal," David said. The informality of the statement made me smile.

"Another thing that reassured me as well: You'd recently eaten. A predatory animal is far more dangerous when it's hungry."

"And what if I were hungry?" I said.

Weyland shrugged. "I have brain cancer. I already know I'm going to die. You'd only change the when."

"And this is how you plan to spend your last days? Doing scientific things with aliens?"

"Could you imagine," Weyland said. "If there's some technology, a chemical, or some organ in your body that eradicates cancer? Do you know how amazing that would be?"

I reacted how you might imagine a person would if someone were asking for your vital organs. I bowed my head and looked away. "I suppose this explains your DAMBALLAH organization."

"To a certain extent."

Sarah kept accidentally bumping into people and getting in the way, so a pair of nurses led her out of the room.

For a moment, all was quiet save for the mechanical machinery and the clicking of Pillow's feeder bottle.

"Honestly, this is kind of a turn on." David muttered, making her blush. She elbowed him.

"Is this blood loss going to be bad for our baby?"

Pillow stopped licking and sighed. "I keep silently praying it won't, but Sharad's life must come first. If she dies, I'll never forgive myself."

Her goat eyes narrowed as she watched the human doctor operate. "Careful, Susan."

"I know what I'm doing," she shot back. "It's only a doubled liver. Your bodies aren't as different as you think."

I glanced at our gracious host. Weyland's doctors had stitched up and bandaged the gunshot wound to his arm, so now he sat on a bench, eating Nutter Butters to regain the lost blood sugar.

"Do you believe in Jesus?" I asked him.

He swallowed a morsel. "I believe the historical figure existed."

"That's a start," I muttered.

I could tell, for some reason, that this discussion depressed Newt, but she didn't tell me why.

The set of glass doors at the end of the room slid open and a square jawed soldier in a gray uniform marched in bearing a plastic IV bag full of blue liquid the color of fabric softener.

"Sir!" the man said. "Is this what you were looking for, sir?"

During the last few minutes of the operation, he had brought in a bag of red human blood, then black, both from my friends' spaceship, but neither one correct for our patient.

Pillow glanced back, then sighed in relief. "Guep! Yes. That's it, praise God!"

She quickly exchanged her vein for the bag, hooked it onto a hanging rack, and slumped heavily into the nearest chair.

Weyland offered her a Nutter Butter, but after she ate it, she demanded, "More."

She consumed a whole box, washing it down with the contents of the bottle, feeder `straw' removed.

When she saw Mrs. Hannigan putting the liver in a surgical basin, she leapt to her feet again, staring into the incision site with worriment.

"It's stitched and sealed together," Susan said with some annoyance. "It's been cauterized. She'll be fine. Vitals are still stable. There's a reason why doctors are generally not allowed to operate on people they're close to."

"It can't be helped. I'm the only alien doctor here." She brushed Sharad's hair away from her forehead. "I wish I had the tools from my ship. This procedure is so barbaric!"

"You have nothing to worry about. After undergoing similar procedures, people have survived, and moved on to resume their active and fulfilling lives."

I and Grandmother were still full from lunch, but now I had other concerns.

At Fiorina 161, I normally went to the bathroom in the dusty soil outside the prison. I hadn't gone for awhile, and my larva had similar issues. I mentioned this to Weyland, and he brought us some glass tanks.

"My apologies," he said. "But I would like to get some urine samples."

"Your people took plenty of samples on LV 426," I said.

"Those samples were destroyed. There may have also been new health developments. My doctors check my urine all the time to see if there's a medical problem."

He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry. We don't have a privacy screen."

I pointed to the one above Sharad.

"...other than that one. Please don't contaminate the patient."

Despite the humiliation, this was twice the respect and formality I normally got for such things in a laboratory setting. I shrugged and gave my sample.

He collected samples from Grandmother and Julia. Embarrassing, yes, but we understood the situation. Even Newt was okay with it after she wrapped her small body with a towel.

"Mr. Weyland," I said. "May I ask you another question?"

"You're an intelligent alien presence," he said. "There's very little I wouldn't tell you, or, at the very least, reply to."

The doctors closed the wound, then watched the patient for awhile.

Morse and Golic had already been taken away. Mr. Weyland said they'd been put in cryogenic stasis. He told me it would be a challenge to refrigerate Grandmother, but since our voyage could take months, the necessary machinery had been prepared.

"Where are we going next?" I asked.

Weyland took a booklet out of a cabinet, handing it to me. "You can read, correct?"

I nodded, scanning the glossy pages.

It looked like an apartment brochure, with scenes from a park, and luxury bedrooms.

"We get our own homes?" I asked in surprise. "With washing machines? I don't even wear clothing!"

"I'm sure you'll find some use for one," he said with a warm smile.

"That's awfully nice of you," I said.

Newt had been reading over my shoulder. "No kidding! It's almost like heaven!"

"Sounds too good to be true," David muttered.

"I find it easier to get results from my subjects if the conditions are more...amicable."

David let out a derisive snort. "Like butter from `contented cows'?"

"Actually, that's not a bad description."

"Mr. Weyland," David said. "As great as your offer sounds, I'd like to go back to some semblance of my actual home. I'm originally from Nebraska...If it's not too much trouble, could you please drop me and my friends off there?"

Our host shot David a pained facial expression. "I'm sorry. That's out of the question...unless you want to go alone."

David frowned. "I...I can't do that."

Weyland raised his hands in a way that nonverbally said `I offered.'

"So we're actually your prisoners."

Newt sighed, shook her head.

"I prefer `detained foreign ambassadors.'"

"And how long are we being `detained'?"

"That I do not know."

"I thought customs wouldn't allow the importation of extraterrestrial lifeforms," I told the man. "The Ripley woman said that's why you had men trying to impregnate her with larva."

He sighed and nodded. "We've recently found ways to bypass the problem."

"How?"

"I can't tell you that."

Pillow staggered to her feet. "We have to help Thonwa."

Our friend had been injured in one of our previous battles. Thonwa was a large insectoid creature, with physiology similar to my own.

Not identical to my own, but similar. She has a striking resemblance to a ladybug. Her reproductive organs are attached to her head, she has a proboscis, and she reproduces by laying eggs in a special pond, but we both have exoskeletons.

David pushed his wife back into the chair. "I know. I love her too, but you need the strength. Eat some more food, at least!"

"She could die!"

"She's in cold storage, baby."

Pillow let out a little puppy dog whimper.

David hugged her. "C'mon, my little space rodent! You did a good job with Sharad. Thonwa only needs a few stitches redone. You can afford to rest a little and take a breather. It's okay."

"You'll never get away with this, earthman!" she muttered with a slight smile.

"You were good once, Zoranna," David said. "The power of this kiss may be just enough to break the enchantment of evil that holds you!" It appeared this was some sort of role playing he often did with his wife.

"I am the mistress of evil! Kisses have no effect against my power!"

"That's because you've never been kissed by Rick Rocket, Master of Space!"

Pillow giggled. "Do your worst, Rick Rocket!"

They kissed.

"Oh brother," Weyland groaned.

Newt looked...depressed, maybe envious of the couple. I guess she saw something she'd never have.

The ship had a sort of dining area, but Pillow didn't want to leave Sharad's side, so they brought her a turkey sub sandwich and waffle sticks and pickles. They knew she was pregnant, so they were very understanding of her weird tastes.

David took the baby from me, feeding him with a bottle. I carried my larva over to the patient, watching her sleep.

The eyes on Sharad's fleshy eystalks cracked open slightly. "Sh'kassk'dwuissueblik?" she croaked.

I gave her hand a gentle squeeze, which is a little challenging with chitinous claws.

The female smiled and squeezed back. "David just adopted me. You want to be my aunt?"

"I'd love to be your aunt," I said.

"Can I be her sister?" Julia asked with excitement.

"I think she'd like that."

"I'd like to be her sister too," said Newt.

Sharad's eyes closed, her smile fading as she drifted into a calm, healthy slumber.

Mrs. Hannigan checked the patient's vitals for another moment before announcing, "She should be fine. The monitors will send me an alert if there's been an adverse change." She paused. "Can I hold your baby?"

Pillow gave her a weary smile and nodded.

The woman cradled Nathan to her chest, stroking his fur as she muttered baby talk to it.

"Are you a pediatrician?" David asked.

"No," she said. "Veterinarian. I did work for a private medical practice once, but I always wanted to work with animals. Nobody seriously pursues a career in xenobiology. I just kinda fell into it."

"You seem good with kids."

The woman only shrugged, handing the child back to his father. "When's the last time he's been changed?"

"We have diapers onboard if you need them," Weyland said. "They're really intended for chimps, but we're not carrying any right now."

David grimaced. "As insulting as that sounds, I think that would be good."

So Mrs. Hannigan helped Mr. Barnes change the baby on a small animal operating table nearby.

Weyland sighed, pointing to Newt. "Your friend...She claims to have transferred her consciousness from a human body into her current larval form. I'd like to reproduce the results, if I could. How was this transfer achieved?"

"I died," Newt blurted.

"I know what you're trying to do," David said. "But it won't work. Sarah tried to do the same thing They interfaced brains, but they kept the bodies they had."

Julia scampered down my arm to talk to him. "Host mommy tried to make me do something I couldn't do."

"What happened to Newt that didn't happen to Sarah?"

"From what I hear, Newt was near death," David said.

The larva nodded. "I saw Jesus."

"Yeah. So...What happened was sort of a miracle."

"I don't believe in miracles," Weyland said.

"The band Hot Chocolate does," David joked. "Are you saying you don't like Hot Chocolate?"

"I prefer tea," the man said with a smirk. "So you think the child's death trauma could have provoked a mind-body transfer."

"...Maybe."

Weyland gazed longingly at the larva.

"Whoa," David blurted. "Before you do anything hasty, Dr. Mengele, I have to warn you: We're only assuming, by faith, that that little girl is still with us."

I nodded. "As much as I hate saying it, there's a possibility that this larva only believes she is Newt, and the real Newt is gone, to heaven."

"Hey!" Newt cried. "That's not true!"

I saw the man swallowing a lump. His neck was baggy enough to make the motion quite visible. "You're saying the larva could be merely delusional."

"Yeah...so before you...do anything drastic..."

"I'm not delusional!" Newt said. "I'm still me!"

That didn't help anyone's case.

Weyland sighed. "I'm not as bad as Ellen Ripley said I am. You obviously trust me a little, or you wouldn't have let me take you onboard."

"Well...you didn't try to kill Sh'kassk'dwuissueblik's Grandmother..." David agreed.

"This kind of mind-body transfer, at worst, seems to have as much value as uploading your consciousness into a synthetic."

David visibly cringed. "...At best?"

After a thoughtful pause, Weyland said, "A last resort."

He fell silent, lost in contemplation.

Mrs. Hannigan left the room to take her break. After she left, the doors at the end of the chamber opened, and a tall half Caucasian Japanese woman came in, bearing a tablet computer. With her long face, slight nose and almond shaped eyes, I thought the woman would be a good choice for actress in an alien invasion movie. "Sir, the samples are all adulterated. We can't seem to separate the alien and human chromosomes."

Weyland waved at her dismissively. "Keep trying. That specimen had a rare genetic marker not present in the ones we have here. Human cell regeneration in the sample could be the key!"

"I could lay another if you want," Grandmother muttered, but Weyland ignored her.

The woman nodded, returning to her station.

"I wouldn't," David said to Grandmother. "They'll just use the eggs for war. To kill people."

"Mr. Barnes," Weyland said. "Don't you want your country to have fifty states again?"

"What," David said. "You gonna float California back up the surface?"

"No, I was referring to The Colonies, currently designated The Thirteen Pillars."

David shrugged. "I could do without election primaries and baked beans."

"So you don't mind having Sharia government."

"Christians have lived under oppressive governments for centuries. The government collapses, and we just keep trucking along."

"So the risk of being beheaded doesn't bother you at all."

"Not if my sacrifice can save a soul for Jesus...What are you willing to die for?"

"A better world," Weyland said.

"So it's not just a catchy slogan on a plaque."

Weyland made no reply to that.

I glanced at the doors. "Where's Sarah?"

"She's been placed in cryogenic stasis with the others. It'll save time when we dock with the ship."

Being a doctor, Pillow knew a great deal about refrigerating our other injured friend Thonwa. The normal intravenous solutions used to maintain vital functions in humans were inappropriate for a Cijmabsa. I don't remember all the particulars, but I do know she insisted on putting extra nitrogen, and glass cleaner was to be introduced to the line.

She must have done it right, for our patient was brought out of refrigeration, alive, and the Abreya could proceed with the operation right away.

Pillow sucked in her breath as she saw the damage, but she remained calm and confident.

Thonwa's eyes, on horn-like growths atop her head, groggily glanced around the room.

"Do you know the proper procedure to knock yourself unconscious and maintain life functions during a prolonged cryogenic freeze?" Mr. Weyland asked me.

I thought about it for a moment. "No."

"Don't ask questions like that," David said. "You're making me nervous."

"This isn't a human being, Mr. Barnes. I doubt we can use the same chemicals."

I asked Grandmother about it.

"When I was drifting in space years ago," she said, referring to the incident with the Nostromo. "I made my body go into hibernation."

"So we just have to wait for you to do that," Weyland said in a disappointed murmur.

"Actually," Pillow said as she stitched up her patient. "We've successfully put Sh'kassk'dwuissueblik under a few times to treat her injuries. I believe I can give you a list of chemical solutions. They're somewhat similar to what I used on Thonwa, but the ammonia level needs to be increased to a larger volume, and there's literal antifreeze involved."

"How do you know that?" I asked.

"Planet Wuxrinus," she sighed. "We learned many things about how not to kill your kind, as they were killing us."

"Good," Weyland said. "That should make things much simpler."

"Is that Sh'kassk'dwuissueblik?" Thonwa moaned.

Since nobody was warning me about contamination risks, I stepped around to the creature's uninjured side and held her claw.

"Hey, good looking," she said, smiling with her eyes and proboscis. Her reproductive tentacles twitched around her head. "Is everyone out of danger?"

I nodded.

"What about the prisoners?"

"Only two survived. They're in cold storage."

She squeezed my claw. "We should go out on a date sometime."

"Our reproductive systems are incompatible," I said.

"I know."

She fell asleep.

Pillow finished with her, then consumed a quart of ice cream as her patients rested.

I heard a bump as our ship docked with a larger craft. None of us went anywhere, though, because we were concerned about our patients.

Pillow had a communication device, which contained an electronic bible. David read a few passages aloud, in English and in Wava, the language of the Abreyas, and we sang some songs. Our patients appreciated this, and even sang along a little.

David, Sharad and Thonwa had dinner. I fell asleep.

When I awoke, the two patients were gone, apparently gone into cryogenic stasis already. That left David, Pillow, the baby and my family.

The noise of conversation had awakened me.

"Those tanks have safely transported chimpanzees for months," Weyland was saying. "I don't see why they can't transport your baby."

"He's not a monkey, Mr. Weyland. He's an Abreya child!"

"I understand that, but the physiology and size are similar. There have even been talks about using them for human infants."

Pillow clutched her husband's hand. "Kadmarre, our son should be fine. We only need to make some slight alterations to the fluids."

David nodded. "I hope you're right." He paused. "But what about you? You're pregnant!"

She paused. "What about me? I'm pregnant."

"It's been done with pregnant humans," Weyland said. "We have methods."

"We're docked to another ship," I said. "Can I see it?"

Weyland shook his head. "There's a quarantine protocol. I'm actually going to need to go through decontamination before I can get into a pod myself."

Mr. Weyland had built a large room in the bottom of the Highliner to contain my Grandmother during her trip. It looked like a meat locker with a glass door. Gray diamond patterned metal, air conditioner units, large tanks of liquids.

Far from being frightened of Grandmother, Pillow treated her like your average ordinary human hospital patient instead of a Ss'sik'chtokiwij twice her size, lifting plates on her exoskeleton and plugging acid proof tubes into her with a polite friendly manner. She knew exactly where the veins were and everything.

"I have your fluids set up just right," she told her. "You'll just go to sleep for awhile, then we'll be on earth or wherever we're going."

"That's what Ripley told me before I died," Newt muttered darkly.

Grandmother flinched, looking like she were about to panic and bolt out of the chamber. "Is this true?"

"Grandmother," I said. "You were her cause of death, remember?"

When Ellen Ripley was escaping from planet LV426, she only thought that she had ejected Grandmother into deep space. Hours later, when Ellen and Newt were unconscious in cryogenic sleeping pods, Grandmother had laid an egg in the little girl's chest. She would have gotten Ellen too, had the malfunctioning spaceship not thrown Grandmother into a separate area of the craft and trapped her there until the vehicle crash landed on Fiorina 161.

Grandmother's shoulder plates drooped. "Oh."

The Abreya checked the tanks, stretched out the tubes, examined the pumping equipment.

"Pillow," Grandmother said. "I'm glad I didn't eat you."

Pillow stroked her shell. "I'm glad you didn't either."

David petted her as well.

"Good night, Grandmother," I said.

She rubbed her face plate against mine. "Good night."

Julia gave her a quick nuzzle, but Newt refused.

"Am I so terrible, little one?" Grandmother asked.

Newt didn't reply. No one could blame her. Grandmother had killed the girl's human body. Of course, her new larval body had suffered abuse at the hands of the Ripley woman, so her hostility had been dampened somewhat.

Grandmother sighed.

I thought for sure that Newt would hold that grudge forever, but as we turned to leave the chamber, I heard her muttering, "Good night."

More cryogenic units stood forward from Grandmother's compartment, a vast gray room illuminated by fluorescents and rows of computer screens displaying vitals. The vertical cylindrical tanks stood like pillars along the walls, misty with cold fog. Through the frost, I could see some of the occupants, human popsicles in their underwear. A row of smaller ones lay empty nearby.

Pillow had prepared a tank for me, but I wanted to see my small ones off first, so she set about fixing them up for Newt and Julia.

The experience was novel to Julia. She didn't mind the treatment. "I feel like an astronaut!" she declared cheerfully.

Newt, however, was so terrified that she refused to go in. "That's how I died! I don't want to go through that again!"

"What if you don't die?" I asked. "What if it's perfectly safe and you're worrying about nothing?"

"And what if I'm not?"

I pressed her to my exoskeleton, stroking her shell. "Newt, you saw your mom and dad last time. Wouldn't you want to see them again?"

She coughed and sneezed in sadness. "But what if they don't recognize me? What if I end up like I am now, or even worse?"

I hugged her, kissing her on the dome.

"You must trust God, little one," I said. "`For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.'"

Newt trembled. "I don't have a choice, do I?"

"I'm sorry. Humans may get scared if you're running around the ship on your own. It's better to do things their way. We're all going to have to do it eventually."

"All right," she sighed, looking like we had just signed her death warrant.

With that, we put her in the cryogenic chamber.

I think Pillow would be lying if she said she put my larvae in stasis first out of politeness. I'm pretty sure she still worried that it wouldn't work for Nathan.

Still, when the glass tube closed on Newt, she surrendered her child.

Mr. Weyland and one of his medical people adjusted one of the small pods, as per Pillow's specifications, and the child was placed inside.

Little Nathan cried at first, but the parents sang to him, and gently fitted him with the necessary tubes, and soon the pod was closing, enveloping the child in white mist.

Pillow kept her hand pressed to the glass the whole time, her expression betraying feelings of worriment, sadness, even.

"I'm putting my trust in your archaic equipment," she told the man.

"And I'm putting my trust in your undocumented medical expertise," Weyland replied. "Let's hope at least one of us is right."

"I'm putting my trust in Jesus," David said.

"I am too," Pillow said. "But if I had to trust something to put our son in suspended animation..."

David nodded grimly.

The next one to go into cold storage was myself.

At my present stage of maturity, I stood about the same height as a human being. I worried about damaging something with my spiny tail, but both Weyland and Pillow said I had nothing to worry about. It was a little uncomfortable for me when she pulled my plates back and stuck in tubes, but soon everything was set up, and I found myself getting drowsy.

The tube closed around me, and the cold set in.

"Have a good sleep, friend," David said.

They couldn't see my eyes, but sleep eluded me for a few moments, and I had nothing to do but groggily observe the things happening around me.

Having put everyone else alien to bed, so to speak, it was Pillow's turn. Looking pale, she activated the tank nearest the baby, which happened to be between two frozen lab assistants, preparing it for the physiology of a pregnant Abreya.

Weyland glanced at the tanks, then to her. It was clear what he expected.

In addition to Weyland, the Barneses were accompanied by two medical technicians. The Abreya female had an audience.

"Do you have a privacy curtain or something?" David asked Weyland.

"I don't see the point. You'll just end up on display anyway."

"Maybe we can just turn around-"

Before he could complete the sentence, Pillow was pulling off her romper and glittering silver underthings, climbing into the tank.

"You wore them?" David stammered.

Pillow blushed green. "I didn't expect to be in this situation. I know how you like it when I wear them."

"I know this won't fix anything, but I'm sorry. About the affair and everything."

She gestured to him with her tail. "Come here."

The two kissed passionately for a moment.

Weyland cleared his throat, impatient.

David pulled away.

"Hua chikalat," Pillow said as she climbed into her tank.

"I love you too."

The tank closed, wreathing the Abreya's figure in white.

We did have to turn around for David. His build was not impressive, and his briefs were not exactly clean, so maybe he had a point. Mr. Weyland, for one, commented that it it `Wasn't something he particularly wanted to see.'

At this point, the chemicals were kicking in. Consciousness escaped my grasp.

The last thing I heard before passing out was Weyland telling one of his staff people, "Once properly indoctrinated, the young ones could be a tremendous help in our war efforts."

When I awoke, it was warm, and I no longer stood in a cryogenic tank.

I had been placed in a concrete cell, one wall made of some durable sort of glass, with a thick metal sliding gate, and a food slot at the bottom.

Beyond the glass, I could see a small observation lounge with a padded bench, a Coke machine, and a computer kiosk. I guessed the place lay underground somewhere. I couldn't see outdoors at all.

Mr. Weyland slouched on the bench, frowning at something on his cel phone.

After watching him do nothing but click buttons for a moment, I groaned and sat up.

"Where am I?" I asked.

"Rosedale Manors."

I frowned at the gray walls, the barren floors. They had provided me with nothing, no possessions of any sort, like a zoo animal in a cage. Nothing new to me. I had spent the majority of my life in similar cages. What bothered me more was the broken promise. "I thought you said we'd have houses...with washing machines."

Mr. Weyland shrugged. "I lied."

ERNIE WILL RETURN IN "ELLIE 074", A NEW STORY IN THE FANFICTION NET ARCHIVE

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1. There's some potential in an alternate plot about Ernie staying on Fury 161, but I don't have time to write it.

2. Another alternate plot idea.