269733c held her sibling up against a shard of schist and disemboweled his limp trunk. Offal rained down onto her writhing tendrils before it splashed across the top of her crest. She wrapped her teeth around the faintly pounding valves of his perforated heart; one of her surviving talons cut the connective tissue away, so she could swallow the organ whole.


    <Hey, fuckstick. I don''t know if you can hear me, right now, so I''m just going to talk. Do you remember when we all sat down, and Takahashi explained the rules to you? I feel like it was a pretty memorable conversation. Short; sweet; you really only had to do three things. Number one? Mind your own business. Number two? Well, we don''t need to talk about number two because somehow the first part was already too fucking hard.>


    Carson twitched, his tail slapping against the storm-lashed waves using the last of his fading strength. Three inches long and covered in toxic quills, his body was better suited to avoiding hungry esh than contesting the fangs of his kin. There was probably a lesson there; something about future-proofing your augmentations or anticipating likely threats.


    269733c made a note to avoid the same mistake and ate part of his liver. Her fins positively ached as the rich entrails were converted into a masticated slurry. It was always so much easier to regenerate missing flesh when you had the right blend of nutrients. If she''d been limited to kelp or seaweed, this would have taken another week.


    <Oi, newbie, kick this deadbeat in the side for me until he wakes his bitch-ass up.>


    Three sets of eyes rolled themselves in synch. On the off chance that Hayes was observing her from afar, the irritated parasite tore off a limp tendril and stuffed the ragged end into her mouth. Bits of vestigial scale fell into the clouded surf.


    <Tch. He''s dead, isn''t he? Four million dollars up in smoke, and this bastard can''t even take a beating. What a fucking waste. I should''ve drove down there and squashed him flat myself.>


    269733c decided to throw some conversational chum into the water on the off-chance Hayes took the bait. <You say that like you''re not already hanging around. Why don''t you pop your head up? You can watch me crack his skull open and pretend he has a brain.>


    There was a beat of silence. <...Noticed that, did you?>


    The warspawn scoffed. <How else would you make sure I killed him instead of simply running him off?>


    <Fair enough.>


    A well-groomed businessman emerged from a nearby convenience store and wandered over with a Heineken in his hand. Covered by the false skin, the inhabitants of this world preferred, he was both slim and fit but didn''t wear the weight very well. He walked like he was used to being shorter - thinner - more top heavy. It kept 269733c from freaking out too much when he made a beeline for her position.


    <New host?> the infiltrator asked as snowflakes accumulated in fin-high plumes.


    Hayes grimaced. The bottle went flying towards an icy mooring, where it shattered against the wooden pillar. "Don''t remind me. It''s bad enough this asshole swiped eighty kilos from the warehouse: I don''t need to hear about how he stole my tits as well."


    269733c stared at the massive body her sponsor held in such disdain. It must have been almost half the size of an infant starseer. A few favors for the Sea, and the parasite could''ve gone toe to toe with Harlan. Who gave a shit if her host had breasts or not? Just cash in some merit and grow a fucking pair.


    The smaller warspawn kept the complaint to herself. There wouldn''t be much point in killing Carson if she immediately picked a fight with Hayes. Worse, the Hartford cell might think she was cut from the same cloth and schedule her own execution in a couple of months. It''d be safer to act like the ''team player'' they were looking for until she had cause to stick in the knife. <Are you satisfied, yet, or should I prep the rest for the birds? Tell me now because I''m not going to sit here and bleed to death while you try to make up your mind.>


    Hayes ignored her companion''s frigid tone. "I can''t believe I forgot what it was like to deal with you brats. Whatever, I''m sure you''ll lose the attitude once you''ve taken a host for yourself." She reached into the pocket of her leather jacket and pulled out a brown paper bag.


    <What''s that?> the infiltrator asked. <You decide to steal my lunch, after all?>


    "It''s for you," Hayes informed her sardonically. "It''s almost like it helps to have people in your corner."


    269733c cut through the fragile paper and found a thick green paste surrounded by sheets of plastic. It looked homemade. Smelled like it too. There was an errant streak smeared across the tie keeping the film sealed, so she brought her tendrils around and sheared off a dry flake. It wasn''t the worst thing she''d ever put in her mouth. <What am I eating?>


    "Infiltrator-compatible medicinal salve. You wouldn''t believe the trouble we had sourcing the ingredients on Earth. Preparation was a right pain too. Apparently, Detrain makes it in his air fryer whenever he''s not cooking for Takahashi."


    That would explain the savory undertone. <Should I construe this as a hint that Detrain is also ''in my corner?''>


    Hayes shrugged. "Maybe. Remember the rules, yeah? The people around here enjoy their privacy. Carson forgot that; it''s why he''s dead, and you''re being extended an invitation to take his place."


    ''By you,'' 269733c agreed pointedly. ''Probably by Detrain as well.'' The implication that she''d be expected to repay their support in kind was obvious. What form her gratuity would take, the parasite couldn''t say, but she knew the offer had a catch.


    She ripped one of Carson''s eyes out. The orb burst between her teeth as drops of noxious jelly slid down the back of her throat. ''Not that I care,'' 269733c conceded equanimously. ''Everyone needs their cut.'' The nobility; the Networks; the locals and their hegemons. Why not Hayes? Why not her?


    A wayward tendril toyed with the loop of wire keeping the medicine sealed. The parasite decided she''d test the paste later once she was no longer being observed. In the meantime, she settled for an old standby and ate more of Carson''s myelin deposits. <Are we done here?> she asked her patron waspishly.


    Hayes shook her head. "There''s one more thing. Nobody gets formally introduced to the cell until they''ve taken their first host. So, you know, make sure you get that shit settled." The parasite hesitated. A grimace marred her handsome features as she buried her hands in her coat. "...And select a good one. Don''t get sloppy and pick some random shmuck off the street."


    269733c looked up from her meal. <The hell do you care?>


    "I don''t. It could become a pain, though, later on. Get... get someone rich if you really don''t give a shit. Someone important. Not too important - because that''s heat we don''t need - but someone like the Gatekeepers. In other words, high enough to be well regarded, but not so significant that anyone with actual power will be talking to you on the regular."


    269733c paused. She stopped hacking away at Carson''s corpse. <You''re serious. You''re being serious right now.>


    "Fuck off, I''m doing you a favor. Take my advice or don''t. Just don''t come crawling to me when you find yourself getting attached. Because you will. Even if it''s a problem." Hayes glared at the parasite by her foot. "Make sure it doesn''t become a problem."


    269733c had difficulty hiding her disdain. <Don''t worry. If Deravan''s taught me anything, it''s how to let shit go.>


    /\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\


    ''I always was a fucking liar.''


    The thought cut through the weight of her torpor like a halo of burning light. It hurt; not physically, but rather as a begrudging underscore to the anesthetized ache creeping up her flayed left side. Sarah risked opening an eye. A millimeter beneath her adipose fin there was a stumpy little nub where one of her tendril''s used to rest. She tried giving it a shake. The limb moved, but it''d be another few weeks until it was able to interface with a nervous system.


    That would put the current date at... early October? Call it a week and a half since the fight. In other words, too soon to make a move and too late to quietly extract her host. Sarah bit back a sigh. Honestly, she shouldn''t complain. Most infiltrators had to sleepwalk through torpor, lest they get left behind by their progenitor. The fact that she''d been allowed to commit to the process while safely ensconced within a cave was practically a personal first.


    Practically, because something had still woken her up. Specifically, her relay if Sarah didn''t miss her guess. It was quiet now, so she didn''t know who had been broadcasting; however, it wasn''t like there was a long list of suspects to potentially choose from. Hell, she could probably count them all on her hands and still have fingers to spare. It''d certainly be a lot more feasible now that Barkley was fucking dead.


    Her mandibles spread in a winsome grin. Damn, but that felt good to say. It reminded her of the time she''d nearly torn her hair out after falling into a patch of poison ivy. Also, like said scalping incident, she knew her hatred wouldn''t fade even after blood began to drip from her nails. It was why a self-destructive part of her was hoping she''d heard Townsend''s voice, instead of someone sane like Simon. If her squirrelly assailant was here... if they could go another round...


    Sarah lost herself in the fantasy of it all. A part of her was still riding high after the memory of her triumph over Carson, and it was easy to reimagine their fight as a battle between Townsend and herself. Events wouldn''t shake out the same way; the brat''s position was far more secure; however, it remained a terribly attractive daydream as she waited for her caller to try again.


    A minute passed, then two. Finally, Sarah felt her relay vibrate a centimeter from the tip of her tail. <Sarah?> the black ring buzzed. <Are you there? Ping me back if you get this.>


    Ugh. She knew that wheedling tone. Of course, it''d be Amanda. Who else would waste their time trawling the beach for her rotting corpse? Seriously, between her injury and her reverie, Sarah had half a mind to slip back into torpor. It wasn''t worth the hassle, though. She knew her ex wouldn''t quit until Death itself agreed to get their manager. <This isn''t about me promising to call, is it? I figured I''d get a pass, considering how the last few weeks have shaken out.>


    Amanda sighed in relief. There must have been at least a mile between them because the transmission broke down into static. <Don''t be ridiculous... as if... any of that... matters right now. What''s more important is... are you okay? Do you... need help?>


    It took Sarah a minute to piece together the missing words. By the time she was done, another message had already come through. <Say something...Sarah. You''re scaring... the shit out of me.>


    <I''m fine,> the distracted parasite replied. <There''s just some interference from the seed. It''s causing the signal to degrade. The relay will probably clear up if you get a little closer to the beach. Where are you, right now, anyway?>


    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    <Driving down the A1. Kennedy heard about an incident with some students and asked me to check it out after you dropped off the grid. Speaking of which... what happened? We''ve been getting a lot of conflicting reports.>


    <Does it matter?> Sarah deflected gracelessly. <It was just the usual bullshit.>


    Amanda nearly blew out her implant with the strength of her reply. <Of course, it matters! You''ve been missing for over a week and a half! I thought you fucking died!>


    <Well, I didn''t. Barkley did, though. Couple of kids too. It was a whole thing. You can sum it up with the phrase, ''Simon needed a favor, and it all went downhill from there.''> Sarah clicked her tongue. <How''s he doing by the way?>


    <I don''t know. He hasn''t been picking up the phone, either. When was the last time you saw him?>


    Sarah quietly did the math. <Let''s call it a couple of hours before I dropped Barkley on the beach. He said he was planning to hit the BPD. Identity issues. He was worried they had proof that he''d replaced his host.>


    Her ex started cursing. The expletives faded in and out as she drove down the busy highway. <We should be... having this conversation face to face. Can you... get to the Hilton on... the corner of Boardman and Brandywyne? I''ll pick you up.> There was a moment of silence that had nothing to do with the relay''s dysfunction. <Sarah? Sarah - are you there?>


    No. No, she wasn''t, and that was precisely the problem. <Do you remember when Pullberry had to migrate to her younger sister after her original host got hit by a car? I''m in the same sort of situation.>


    <Oh no. Has she...>


    Sarah shook her head, even though nobody could see the gesture. <Sleeping Beauty should still be at the hospital. Probably the ICU. If you want to meet up, I''ll either need help getting to the rendezvous, or we''ll need to reconvene at the shoreline.>


    <Okay. Let me see what I can do. Give me ten - no - twenty minutes. I think I can make this work.>


    Somehow, Sarah had her doubts. She kept them to herself, though, as she crawled out of an inch-high mound of partially settled silt. Detritus bloomed around her while the current shifted the cloud. If the undertow was pulling it towards the right, that meant the coast would be... Sarah spun around. She peered through the cerulean haze at the steadily rising sea floor. ''Over there,'' she finished, already dreading the swim.


    A four-inch body length meant this was going to feel like a marathon. Add in the fact that she''d be fighting the current, and the comparison got a lot less metaphorical. She''d have to see about staying low to the ground, so she could brace her body on her surviving tendrils. Maybe she could ''walk'' part of the way and save herself some stress.


    ...Then again, maybe not. There was a lot of rusted junk buried beneath the sand. She wouldn''t want to fight off an infection while her immune system was already taxed. Knowing her luck, that''d be the perfect excuse for a disease to jump the species barrier. <...Hey, have you ever heard of an infiltrator contracting tetanus? Asking for a friend.>


    There was a moment of silence, then Amanda''s voice vibrated up her tail. <I''m hesitant to ask, but is this something I need to be concerned about?>


    Sarah shook her head. <Idle thought. It''s been a while since I took a major injury.>


    <Really?> Amanda mused. <You don''t sound too concerned.>


    <I''m... in a good mood? No. Too much shit has gone wrong for me to pretend this is all okay. It''s in the past, though, and I''ve been given a stark reminder of my own brutal competence. Nothing says ''I can do this'' like tapdancing on an asshole''s corpse.>


    <It feels good,> Sarah explained when Amanda didn''t have a response. <It makes me hungry. Makes me feel alive. So much so, that I wonder if the nobles programmed the sensation into our genome when they were designing our general template.>


    <...Like a chemical reaction?> Amanda asked, her tone tentative and faint. <An oxytocin analogue, perhaps?>


    <Sure. Or a tropism. ...Hmm, can it even be called a tropism if the response is emotional rather than motive?>


    <I don''t know,> Amanda replied. <What''s a tropism?>


    Sarah kept swimming. <It''s an involuntary recalibration of the body based upon external stimuli. Ethologists often observe them in maggots and other larva. Squirrels too. For example, if you take one of those hyper-active rodents, and raise it from birth in a concrete box, it''ll still attempt to bury a nut. Even though it''s been alone all its life. Even though it''s been raised on a seedless diet. And yeah: even though it isn''t strong enough to tear up the floor of its cage. Squirrel plus nut equals dig. I think about that shit a lot.>


    <Because how must a squirrel feel when it''s going through all of that?> Sarah continued. <It''s not a person, but it definitely has thoughts and emotions. If I nailed one to a tree, I know it''d start to cry. So, what''s going through its head when it loses control of itself? Does it recognize its body is being puppeted, or does it just wander around in a witless fugue?>


    Amanda''s relay spat silence and static. <...I feel like we''re not talking about squirrels, anymore.>


    <No, we are,> Sarah denied. <We''re just talking about other stuff too. Because that wave of euphoria, I mentioned earlier? It makes me feel like I''ve finally found my nut.>


    She poked her head up through the crashing surf. Past the waterline, there were a pair of figures squatting by a tall white chair that would''ve normally been occupied by a lifeguard. A cursory inspection suggested one of them was Amanda and the other Pallsburg. Sarah couldn''t say for sure, though, until she crawled out of the foam.


    <So, what''s the plan?> she asked once she''d closed the distance and hauled herself across the dunes. <Did you steal a leaf out of Simon''s book and lock a murderer in your trunk?>


    "Not exactly. Remember when I said I had an idea? Well..." Amanda held her hands up as if to present door number three.


    It took Sarah a second to get it. <You''re joking.>


    Amanda shook her head. "It''s the most ethical way to handle this. You need a host that can protect you from the Light, and Julie volunteered."


    <She volunteered,> Sarah repeated. <To be a prisoner in her own body?>


    "I did," Pallsburg confirmed, despite only hearing half the conversation. "Amanda said it wouldn''t be forever, and I can''t say I''m unsympathetic. If this will help you find your feet, then I don''t mind playing Samantha Carter to your Jolinar Malkshur."


    Sarah didn''t have enough hours in the day to explain everything wrong with that sentence. <Amanda, please tell this stupid bitch that I''ll be chewing a hole through her neck. There''s going to be a divot in her throat you could fuck with the tip of your thumb.>


    "I like you, Sarah, but don''t talk shit about my better half. Besides, it''s already been accounted for. I''ve spent the last two weeks refining a core that can handle deep tissue damage, and it''ll be more than adequate to heal the entry wound you leave behind."


    "There won''t even be a scar," Pallsburg promised. "It''ll be like it never happened."


    Sarah boggled at the note of experience present in Pallsburg''s admission. <...You two have done this before, haven''t you?>


    Amanda''s face was made of stone. "Is that a yes or a no?"


    Sarah squirmed in a circle. <I can''t believe I''m agreeing to this.>


    "But you are agreeing to it, right?"


    Pallsburg got down on one knee. She knew Amanda''s question was rhetorical, so she bent her head and pulled her ponytail off to the side. Her girlfriend whispered something into her ear while Sarah slowly approached. She was too far away to hear what Amanda had said, but Pallsburg kissed her on the cheek when she was finished. Once they''d parted, the woman lowered her palm and offered the parasite a lift.


    Sarah took it while Amanda began to hum beneath her breath.


    <That better not be White Reflection,> Sarah snapped.


    "No comment."


    Sometimes you could only laugh or cry. Pallsburg did the latter while Sarah peeled away her epidermis. <I want to complain so much, but every criticism that comes to mind sounds like a tag on pornhub.> Felt like it too. The second Sarah got one of her tendrils aligned with her host''s spine, the first thing she noticed was how wet Pallsburg''s underwear was. She was getting off on this. No wonder the two were together.


    ''I''m going to have nightmares about today,'' Sarah realized dully. ''I''m going to be halfway into Cook''s back as she takes it in the ass from Huffman.''


    Amanda rubbed circles between her shoulder blades while Pallsburg lost her grip on the wheel. Sarah was tempted to slide away from the gesture, except it was followed by a splash of mana that threatened to blacken her scales. The edge of her incision stopped bleeding. Pieces of Pallsburg''s skin started to close up near the bottom of Sarah''s tail. <You couldn''t wait five minutes?> she huffed. <Your paramour''s not going to hemorrhage to death in the time it takes me to finish.>


    Some of the mana fell back, so it wasn''t chasing Sarah like a cloud of sarin gas. <Relax,> Amanda chided her. <I know what I''m doing. It''s just a little cantrip to take the edge off. It can''t be more than a tenth of a mote.>


    <Bullshit, it''s at least a quarter - maybe as much as a third!> Sarah would''ve used her tendrils to say for sure, but she needed them to help her settle in. She didn''t have enough limbs left to bother with trivial minutia. Especially, when a tenth was still sufficient to singe her skin.


    Sarah shook the errant thought off. Axons began to synch up to their corresponding dendrites as a trio of sharpened tips slipped through the gaps in Pallsburg''s spine. Sarah ordered the woman to shift her head to the side. With several new sections of cartilage exposed, it became trivial to complete the link.


    It still wasn''t enough to grant her full control. Sarah would need at least one more point of contact to intercept every wayward signal. Unfortunately, all of her healthy tendrils were fully occupied with cataloging the flow of information. Messages to her lungs to keep her breathing steady; missives from her knees, regarding a rug burn at the bottom of the cap - they all added up until she barely had enough bandwidth to ensure her host stayed erect.


    Amanda caught her beneath the elbow when even that thin margin failed. Sarah could feel the parasite''s nails digging to her armpit right beside the curve of her breast. "Easy now," Amanda murmured. "I saw how ragged you looked before you climbed aboard. If you''re not careful, you''ll be doing the Jack-O pose in the sand."


    Her ex was right; Sarah''s balance was completely shot. So much so, that it was actually easier to let Pallsburg help her than to juggle everything by hand.


    "I''ll be fine," Sarah grumbled. "Are you done fixing the damage?"


    "Almost, give me a few more seconds." Amanda pressed her palm against Pallsburg''s neck and then wiped the blood away with her thumb. When the digit was clear, the only sign of Sarah''s intrusion was a strip of shiny pink skin. "Best to let nature handle the rest," she advised. "It''ll be better for everyone''s health in the long run."


    A grunt bubbled up Sarah''s throat. She wondered if Pallsburg was trying to say something and then shifted her focus to permit it. Nothing emerged. Instead, the woman followed her influence like a cat rubbing up against her calf. As soon as the warspawn focused on a muscle group, there she''d be with a sense of frission and inertia.


    Pallsburg''s heart began to race. "I..." Sarah licked her lips. There was no way in hell she was going to have this conversation while there was any hope of avoiding it. "I think I''m good. Maybe even better than good. It''ll depend on how much mana you have tucked away in your core."


    Amanda grimaced. "Not enough to save your host from the ICU if that''s what you''re asking. I''ve been trying to build up a stockpile for Julie''s sake; however, it''s been hard to find a good seed. All of this running around Kennedy has me doing hasn''t helped matters."


    Sarah clenched her fists just to feel the tendon''s curl. The bottom of her left pinky was a bit slow, so she adjusted her tendrils to compensate. She looked up from her hands. "You make it sound like there''s more to it than simply searching for Simon and myself."


    "That''s because there is. I''m supposed to be in Concord, right now. There''s been an explosion. A bad one. Bad enough that you could push a bomb through the skein, and it wouldn''t do half as much damage. When Kennedy heard I was heading up there to help with the relief effort, he asked me to reach out to some of our friends along the way on the off chance they had a hand in the destruction. I don''t mind the hassle, but I can''t say I''m happy about the thought."


    Sarah''s snort was thick with dark humor. "Because of the devastation, because they were dumb enough to try it or because the most likely culprit is the Vermont cell?"


    "The former, of course. I know you have your doubts about Kennedy''s plan, but it really is the best way forward. The work''s important. Integration is important. The more of us out there, actively mucking things up, the harder our efforts become." Amanda studied Sarah''s distracted countenance, mindful of her ex-girlfriend''s disinterest. "On that note, why don''t you come with me? The fresh air might do you some good."


    The odd comment waylaid the warspawn just as she was beginning to explore her new home. A befuddled frown wormed its way onto her face. "I''m sorry - say what?"


    Amanda canted her head towards the city. "You want to save your original ride, don''t you? Well, this is the way to do it. I''ve been keeping an eye on Reddit, and there''s a seed near Ashland that''s supposed to be producing a lot of white mages. Between the two of us, we should be able to siphon enough mana to fix whatever the hospital can''t. Besides, don''t you need another few weeks for your tendrils to regrow?"


    She did. The ghostly presence hovering along her spine proved as much. It might fade a bit once she''d acclimated to her new setup; however, Pallsburg wasn''t going anywhere until Sarah recovered from Barkley''s tantrum. Maybe not even then.


    A shiver of unease threatened to settle in her stomach. Sarah stubbornly shook the thought off with the help of her still extant dream. ''Someone in my corner, huh?'' Somehow, she had a feeling that Hayes would scoff if she could hear what the younger warspawn was thinking.


    So, what, though? It''s not like she ever gave a shit about that bitch''s opinion in the past. "Yeah, alright," Sarah agreed. "Why not? A new host should mean a new outlook. At least, for a little while. Let me get some stuff out of my car, and you can fill me in on the way."


    Amanda nodded along, happy she''d be able to knock this off her to-do list while keeping an eye on her girlfriend. Then she winced and couldn''t quite hide her reaction before Sarah caught it fleeing behind a pair of pursed lips.


    "Ah," Amanda muttered awkwardly. "About that..."