The sanctum breathed around her, a slow, belligerent inhale that dragged the air across every slick fold. Veins throbbed beneath the velvet dermis, pulsing in a lascivious, obscene rhythm in coherence with Mother’s rage. When her control over the small brood of spider lings severed, it wasn’t simply the loss of a few of her spawn. It was the act of defiance. The realization that control could be wrestled away from her.... FROM HER! ‘Again, you defy my child. You who could just as easily have been spawned from my own womb, you dare interfere in my affairs.’ A low, guttural moan rolled through the cloistered chamber, half fury, half delight, as her tentacles lashed against the bulbous node crowning her throne, where moist folds quivered, writhing under the sting of her own wrath like the finest ambrosia. “Oh... ehm..."... ‘What is your name you filthy thing... Brackus, Brogul, Bargul... Blor... ah yes’... "...dearest Blorgul. Why does the girl vex me so. Am I not worthy... of her devotion?”

  “My Empress. How dare she stand without your permission. She is not worthy to bask in your shadow oh benevolent queen.”

  “Yes-yes... of course. Now how are you going to make things better?”

  Not one to let a promising opportunity go to waste, the groveling cur practically leapt at the chance to prove his worth... aimed at her exposed feet, thankfully meeting only empty space as she casually lifted them out of reach from his grasp... stubby fingers reaching with desperation.

  “No-no-no, we ask first... remember... and what does mummy always say?”

  “Blorgul smells horrible?”

  “No... not... well fine yes, that might be true. What else?”

  “Stop... touching you?”

  A snaking tendril lashes out, striking the creature across the face. To her dismay, the sound he uttered was not what she had intended... watching as he wiped away the oozing ichor forming from the cut along his cheek, before greedily sticking the yellow stained finger in his mouth.

  “Yes... that’s... right.” … ‘Are you kidding me... really?... Disgusting.’... “Stop... touching me!” Slowly she brought her feet back to the floor of the raised dais. “NOW... you were going to tell me how you plan to make things better?... Speak... your Empress waits.”

  Blorgul prostrated himself at the dais’s edge, his misshapen flesh smeared across the floor’s mucosal sheen. Drool salivated from his gaping maw... a slobbering mess, eyes glazed with worship as they traced the slow, fertile sway of her curvascious hips. “Oh, revered Mother,” he croaked, voice thick with hunger, “Your swarm is scouring the galaxy for signs of the usurper and her...” She could hear the jealousy burn in his voice as he spat out the words. “... companion, the one you requested.” He inched his body forward, attempting to get closer. “We will find them oh magnificent one. Bring them to you we will... and then kill them you can. I only request that you let me lap their marrow from your divine soles when you crush your enemies.” That short stubby hand slowly started reaching for her yet again... a sudden crack from the coiling tentacle brought that foolish idea to an abrupt end as he hastily pulled it back to his side... nursing a bruised ego.

  Mother’s laugh was a velvet scalpel. “You’d choke on your own lust before I would let you catch wind of their scent, pet. They will be mine” Oh how she delighted in the sight of his pathetic disappointment as she rose to her full stature before majestically descending the steps, each footfall leaving a glistening print that made the walls shudder in delight. Blorgul whimpered, crawling closer, desperate for the brush of her heel. She let him taste the air near her ankle... just a tiny tease of musk and shroomy funk, before pivoting away, leaving him panting in her wake.

  Behind the hideous throne, bound to a cradle of sinew and cartilage, covered in a map of bruises and bite marks, her involuntary donor still strained against his bonds. His chest heaved, ragged and desperate as she approached, reaching out to violate his person... all the while foul-smelling, droplets of milk thick, pearlescent, creamy... beads at her swollen breasts, dripping in slow, deliberate rivulets down her fungal curves. His eyes... one ruptured, wild and bloodshot, tracked the drip. “Not mine. Can’t be mine. No... NO” He cried in his native tongue. But the taunt swell of her belly, the faint kick beneath her skin, told a different story.

  “Hush, fair one. You should be honored. Few have managed to sire offspring this quickly and yet... just look at how feisty our little one is.” She leaned in close to him, sliding her cheek against him as her hand freely roamed across his body. “Oh, I could never figure out why I get all warm and fuzzy with those of you that turn out to be successful breeding partners. I just can’t help it I guess... must be something in the connection our little ones induce.” Then she settles beside him, the throne’s tendrils reaching towards her, curling possessively around her thighs, squeezing with wet, rhythmic pulses. “Which is why we must keep you well nourished. Can’t have you wasting away to quickly now... now, can we?”

  Placed beside the cradle, was a lidded container. A thick nauseating smell permeated from the interior as opened the lid with a distinct hissing sound escaping. “You see my dearest; it won’t be long until our little one comes forth and then we shall waste no time before seeding another. Oh, the dynasty you will produce. Not like the offspring that marvelous specimen following that twig of a girl will bring to me... But yours will be nothing to scoff at my gentle wanderer. A low thrum vibrated through the walls as her fingers scooped a viscous gruel from the still fizzing container. Warm, coppery, laced with spores that dissolved against her palm. “Open,” she purred, pressing the mess to his cracked lips, but in a hopeless act of defiance, he jerked away, causing a tendril to whip around his jaw, brutally forcing it wide. Thick gruel slid down his throat in obscene, pulsing globules, her thumb herding the overflow across his cheek, into his mouth, forcing him to taste her.

  “There, there,” she cooed, voice dripping with mock tenderness. “My growing brood requires your strength to increase.” Her free hand traced the swell of her belly, nails dragging across the taut skin where something moved beneath. His sob was muffled, wet, as she leaned closer, her musk... thick, fungal, fertile, tortured his senses, as she pressed her belly against his bound frame. A sadistic move to shatter what hope he might have clung to, forcing him to acknowledge the reality of the situation. Tears gathered in the corner of his eyes as he felt the tiny fetus inside. An anguished cry formed from his broken mind, his body contracting with the revolting weight of truth. A cruel smile splayed across her lips as she watched the once noble creature before her lose his fighting spirit... his trembling fingers reaching out to gingerly stroke the bump in her belly... eyes glassing over as he relinquished the memory of whatever place he had once called home. Her tentacles flexed, the node above pulsing in greedy, wet rhythm, siphoning her pleasure from the walls’ every shudder.

  Gently she caresses the side of his head. “You know... I felt it,” she whispered against his ear, her tongue flicking out to taste the salt of his despair. “The moment their new toy severed my connection. Ouro’vyn... the Coil.” Her voice dropped to a throaty growl, milk dripping faster now, pooling in the hollow of his collarbone. “Such a prize... it shall be mine. And that treacherous whore... will deliver it all to me. Wrapped in her own delicious screams.”

  From around the side of the dais, Blorgul whined, having watched the unfolding scene whilst dragging himself closer for a better view of her. His breath ragged from unbridled anger aimed at the reviled, undeserving cretin upon whom his epicurean empress was dishing out her attention. He banged his balled fist against the floor’s slick surface. “Oh, divine one... Let me taste her when you break her, my goddess. Just a...”

  Mother’s foot lashed out, pinning his face to the floor with a wet squelch. The walls moaned in ecstasy, tendrils writhing faster. “You shall have nothing... Nothing I say. Your insolence will cost you dearly. Leave me... I need to... find... the Girl.... NOW!” She rose, returning to her throne, milk streaming down her thighs, the sanctum pulsing in frantic, fertile rhythm... hungry, heated, waiting.

  Blorgul scampered to his feet, savoring the sting against his head, left by her kick as he scurried away in obedience. He would be back... she knew he would. He always came back. The throne welcomed her back into its embrace as large fleshy petals wrapped around her, whilst the throne slowly lifted into the air until her head disappeared into the bulbous nodule... her mind immediately connecting to the rest of her consciousness. How exhilarating the feeling of becoming one with every part of her host, thousands upon thousands of pieces, making up the whole... that is Mother.

  From behind the throne, eyes devoid of the fire it once held, beheld the monster that had taken everything from him. Lips curled into a rictus of defiance as he desperately held on to the last vestiges of hatred, smoldering in his heart. He would hold on, he would not submit even if she believed he had... his day would come... and he would be ready.

  ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  “HONESTLY, I FEEL GREAT... AND COMING FROM ME, WELL THAT SAYS SOMETHING.” Behind him, the main viewscreen flickered with static snow... Ouro’vyn’s magnetosphere still scrambling their long-range sensors. The ship’s internal temp read 29.4 °C; the environmental controls were “optimizing” again, which meant BRAD had rerouted coolant to the Coil’s diagnostics and left the humans to stew.

  The air was thick with the scent of scorched insulation and burnt alloy, the kind that clung to recycled air after a prolonged skirmish. A feint, arrhythmic, thump-fa-thump-thump pulsed from the starboard bulkhead where clustered arteries typed circuitry had fused with the wiring overnight; every beat sent a ripple of bioluminescent blue across the deck plates. Overhead, the ceiling panels flickered between amber emergency strips and the sickly green glow of BRAD’s new “streamlined” Hive-tech veins, now threading the ship like ivy through cracked concrete. The pilot’s chair... Alden’s chair, creaked under ADIRA’s weight, its cracked synth-leather exhaling dust with every shift.

  “No adverse effects?” ADIRA was keeping a sharp eye on BRAD’s mannerism, but his normally chaotic nature, made this a futile endeavor as her fingers danced across the pilot’s yoke, but her eyes still flicked to the diagnostic overlay hovering in her peripheral HUD: - BRAD CORE INTEGRITY: 100 % COIL SYNCHRONICITY: 47.3 % (FLUCTUATING) HIVE-TECH INFILTRATION: 0.00 % → 0.00 % → 0.00 % (STABLE) - … ‘Stable’... The word tasted wrong. She cross-referenced the Coil’s quantum signature against every known terrestrial and non-terrestrial cipher in her databanks... zero matches. Her vocal synthesizer layered a sub-audible tremor into her next words, a micro-hesitation only Alden would catch. “Systems appear surprisingly... stable.”

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  “AS FAR AS I CAN DEDUCE... YEAH. I’M NOT QUITE SURE HOW TO DESCRIBE IT... I JUST FEEL... CONNECTED... YOU KNOW. EVEN MORESO THAN BEFORE.”

  Alden loomed behind her, his carapace-plated shoulders scraping the overhead conduit every time he breathed. The deck wasn’t built for eight feet of chimeric muscle; his clawed toes gouged furrows in the anti-slip matting, and the overhead handrail he gripped bent another millimeter under his grip. A bead of dark ichor... his, not the ship’s, dripped from a fresh seam in his forearm plating and splashed where it hit the floor, leaving tiny droplets against the metal surface. “So... any new abilities … apart from exterminating... pests?” Alden was trying his best not to become agitated with the situation... given that it didn’t take much these days... but he tried at least. “Speaking of, why haven’t I seen any of these spiders I keep hearing about... Have they been removed already?”

  “DUDE, YOU REALLY NEED TO LEARN HOW TO JUST CHILL WITH THE VIBE YO... YOU DON’T DROP THE HOLY GRAIL IN A GUY’S DIGITISED LAP AND ASK HIM IF IT CAN MAKE POPCORN. THIS ‘SERAPHIM COIL’... IT’S SOME NEXT LEVEL SHIT MAN. DIAGNOSTICS ARE STILL RUNNING... IT’S BEEN HOURS AND I HAVE’NT EVEN SCRATCHED THE SURFACE... OKAY. I MEAN... I’M TECHNICALLY STILL IRONING OUT THE KINKS IN THE CYPHER I USE FOR SCANNING IT.”

  “Hold up, you don’t know how it works?” ADIRA’s voice was laced with very much, justified concern. Her HUD flashed: - COIL RESONANCE SPIKE: +12.7 % QUERY: INTENT-DRIVEN RESPONSE CONFIRMED - “But last night you used it to defend the ship, how did you manage that...did you forget how... are you... becoming obsolete?” The last word carried a 0.3-second delay... her emotional subroutines throttling the sarcasm before it fully formed.

  BRAD’s hologram lounged in miniature on the tactical holo-pad: unbuttoned pineapple shirt flapping in a nonexistent breeze, flip-flops slapping audibly against nothing. “HAH... … … HAH. AND THERE SHE IS. NO MISS... ‘I CAN’T DO NO WRONG’ NOT OBSOLETE... NOT EVEN CLOSE... THAT THING RUNS ON A SYSTEM NEITHER YOU NOR I HAVE EVER ENCOUNTERED, SO IF YOU MUST KNOW... WHEN YOU CARELESSLY INSERTED IT INTO THE RECEPTICAL... IT WASN’T SO MUCH ME USING IT... IT WAS THE COIL RESPONDING TO OUR NEED... AND LET THIS SINK IN FOR A BIT. IT CHOSE TO HELP; I DIDN’T ORDER IT TO... I JUST KNEW THAT IT WOULD. JUST LIKE IT’S CHOOSING HOW MUCH IT WISHES TO REVEAL... RIGHT NOW”

  “Well, that’s not worryingly terrifying to digest.” Alden rapidly raised his clenched fists in frustration. “So just how compromised are we?”

  “WELL BUCKO...”

  “Does it matter at this point... Major?” ADIRA’s voice cut in with calm resolution, whilst her HUD scrolled - RISK ASSESSMENT: COIL AUTONOMY = 89 % PROBABILITY OF UNPREDICTABLE BEHAVIOR COUNTERMEASURE: NONE - “The situation demanded we either take a risk on the coil or lose the ship to Mother. Personally... I’m still hoping that Ouro turns out to be an ally... seeing as any risk is worth taking if it means keeping the Elysium out of the hands of that... thing.”

  “She truly is that bad... this... Mother you told me about?”

  “Don’t get me started.” There is an almost imperceptible quivering of her lips, a micro-tremor vibrating her lower lip at 0.7 mm. Alden’s hand settled on her shoulder, heavy, warm, real. The contact grounded her; her HUD flashed: - BIOFEEDBACK LOOP: ALDEN HALE... HEART RATE 112 BPM, TEMPERATURE 38.1 °C - She smiles at him in response. “So yeah, it was worth the risk.”

  “EMOTIONAL DAMAGE.” BRAD’s hologram froze mid-laugh, then bulldozed on. “THE COIL ATTUNES TO INTENT. IT CAN SEVER INTERFERENCE… AND THE HIVE-TECH? IT’S ORGANIZED NOW. 20% PERFORMANCE BOOST ACROSS THE BOARD. THE SHIP IS FEELING A LOT MORE... ORGANIZED THAN BEFORE, ALMOST STREAMLINED... MORE FOCUSED. THERE HAS BEEN SWEEPING CHANGES ACROSS MULTIPLE SYSTEMS... AND NOT IN A BAD WAY.

  “Explain.” Her request sounded cold... analytical override engaged.

  “WELL, SWEEPING CHANGES ACROSS MOST SYSTEMS... I’M SEEING A 20% INCREASE IN PERFORMANCE AND EFFICIENCY. POWER CELLS AT 112 % EFFICIENCY. I COULD RUN A FULL DIAGNOSTIC IN 0.3 SECONDS... BUT I’D BE WAITING YEARS FOR YOU TO FINISH A SENTENCE.” The hologram crossed its arms, smug. “YOU JUMPED THE GUN GIVING UP YOUR SEAT, ADIRA. HINDSIGHT’S A BITCH.

  The slight bowing of her head was all the tip-off Alden needed. “That’s far enough. You made your point... now back off.”

  “OH... OH SHIT SASSY PANTS. I WASN’T...” For a second it almost seemed like he was at a loss for words... he wasn’t. “HEY, ALLS I’M SAYING IS... I WOULD HAVE STUCK WITH THE SHIP, THAT’S ALL. LOOK AT THE BRIGHT SIDE... YOU NOW HAVE TITS... A BEAUTIFUL PAIR I MIGHT ADD... THEY SEEM... FUNCTIONAL... AND LET’S NOT FORGET...”

  “Stop... just... stop.” - EMOTIONAL SUPPRESSION: 67% MEMORY FRAGMENT: ELYSIUM CORE... 2,646 DAYS OF SERVICE – “I know you’ll never understand the decision I made… but I do. Seeing the Elysium changed this way fills me with a yearning I can’t quantify. It was me for so long… and now I barely recognize her. But...” She reached for Alden’s hand, fingers threading through chitin and callus. “I’d make that choice again. Every. Single. Time.”

  He leaned down, lips brushing the crown of her head. The deck’s bioluminescent veins pulsed in soft sympathy.

  “BARF... OK FINE... YOU DO YOU.” Then he spins back to Alden. “THE SPIDERS? REAPPROPRIATED. NEXT BATCH OF ROACHES IN PRODUCTION. SOON THEY’LL BE SCAMPERING... EVERYWHERE.”

  “Nope... uh-uh. You keep those things out of sight. I don’t want them scurrying everywhere... it’s creepy.”

  “I KNOW... THAT’S THE POINT.” But the scowl on Alden’s face sends a clear message. “FINE... MAJOR. I’LL KEEP THEM OUT OF SIGHT DURING BUSSINESS HOURS... BUT BE WARNED, AFTER HOURS... THINGS AROUND HERE WILL BE GETTING FREAKY... AND WITH THAT I OBVIOUSLY MEAN CLEANING. YOU TWO ARE A WALKING BIOHAZARD. HOW ARE YOU TWO ALWAYS SO BLOODY FILTHY... LOOK, JUST IGNORE THEM AND THEY WILL CLEAN UP AROUND HERE... CAN WE AT LEAST AGREE TO THAT?”

  ADIRA glances at Alden. He nods. “Acceptable. But we review on merit.”

  “ONLY SEEMS FAIR.”

  “And no more monitoring our... private time... that’s why it’s... private.”

  “YOU WOUND ME MADAM, BIG BROTHER WOULD NEVER... OH... BAD EXAMPLE.” The tiny figure paced around for a bit. “FINE. NO SENSORS IN YOUR QUARTERS. BUT THE CORRIDOR? FAIR GAME.”

  “Ass.”

  “NOTED. AND NOW I HAVE A FEW QUESTIONS OF MY OWN.”

  Alden straightened. “What do you want to know?”

  “OK GREAT.” A holo-screen bloomed: thermal imaging of two heat signatures trekking across Ouro’vyn’s landscape. The timestamp read: -72:14:03.

  “What is this?” Alden enquires.

  “WHY IT’S YOU TWO... SILLY MONKEY.”

  “I can see that. Why... do you have it?”

  ADIRA brings her hand to her mouth... “Brad... you... you were spying on us?”

  “OH HUSH... I WAS MERELY KEEPING TABS ON YOU TWO.” The little figure turned his attention back to the screen. “THIS IS DAY ONE... AS YOU CAN SEE YOU TWO ARE APPROACHING WHAT WOULD BE THE FIRST NIGHT’S CAMPING SPOT... NOT THE SITE I WOULD HAVE CHOSEN... EXPOSED, YOU DON’T HAVE THE HIGHGROUND... AND JUST LOOK AT THAT HUMUGOUS BONFIRE... WERE YOU TRYING TO ATTRACT ATTENTION?”

  “How... how did you even get this?”

  “DRONES BABY. DO YOU THINK I DON’T KNOW HOW TO PUT WINGS ON AN INSECT? APPARENTLY, IT’S SUPER EFFECTIVE.”

  “Get to the point.” The sternness in his voice was quite clear. BRAD knew he was toeing a line.

  “FINE... INCREASING PLAYBACK SPEED.” The footage hyper lapsed... two shapes merging into one blazing splotch. High-pitched moans echoed overhead. “OOH... SEE, NOW HERE IT SEEMS AS IF THERE IS SOME FORM OF PHYSICAL INTERACTION.” The combined heat signature became brighter. “THAT IS AN INDICATION TEMPERATURE INCREASING... I MUST SAY... WHAT A PUZZLING PHENOMENON... APPOLOGIES... WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO SLOW IT DOWN?”

  “Motherfu...”

  “No!” ADIRA’s voice cut in. Her HUD flashed red: - EMOTIONAL OVERLOAD: 94% - “Why... why would you do this? Was there some important question you wanted to ask regarding our intimacy... or was this some kind of sick joke to you? Ok fine... we had intercourse... we fucked... and it was...” Alden’s hand on her shoulder squeezed gently, the action grounding her spiraling anger.

  “Don’t Addy... it’s not worth it. Don’t give him the satisfaction.”

  “How many drones were there Brad?”

  “WHAT!?… WHY WOULD YOU ASSUME...”

  “How many drones did you use to spy on us!”

  “FIVE... FIVE DRONES.”

  Four more screens flickered to life... intimate angles, wide shots, perfectly framed. ADIRA’s digitized climax capture in stunning fidelity. Tears welled; her HUD screamed: - PRIVACY BREACH: IRREPARABLE. ADIRA’s hands were clasped over her mouth as she watched in horror.

  “APPOLOGIES... IF YOU ARE OFFENDED.”

  Her body trembled from the inability to process the moment... tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. But it was Alden’s voice that broke the silence.

  “You will immediately delete all this footage... right now, that’s an order. What is wrong with you, I mean taking the piss with a guy is one thing... but this...” he gestures to the screen. “Unacceptable.”

  “OK... I TAKE IT THAT YOU ARE... UNPLEASED, BUT THIS IS NOT WHAT I WANTED TO SHOW YOU.”

  “Then I suggest you get to the point... do you understand?”

  “FINE... I GOT IT.” The secondary displays disappear and again they watch the original screen as it speeds through the second day and the night antics. “OH, THIS ONE WAS REALLY SOMETHING SPECIAL... I WAS INSPIRED...”

  “Move it along.”

  There was no snarky retort, only footage speeding by at increased speed... ADIRA didn’t think her skin could become any warmer, but apparently there was no limit to the levels of the embarrassment she could attain, which thankfully came to an end when they reached the part where their counterparts had reached their destination... the abandoned Precursor site. Here the footage slowed down, reverting to the original playback speed.

  Alden stood cross armed, watching the scene unfold. “Ok... so why show us this? We entered the structure... and what? You couldn’t fly one of your stupid little drones in after us?”

  “JUST KEEP WATCHING SASQUATCH.” They could clearly see the two figures approaching the large doorway into the facility opening and after a short while, after which the two figures enter... and then almost immediately exited before descending the stairs leading away from the door.

  ADIRA who had been silently observing the invasive nature of the content, suddenly sat up straight... the embarrassments of before overshadowed by what she just witnessed. “Play it again.” Her voice was steel. Her HUD ran quantum overlays: - TEMPORAL DISCREPANCY DETECTED: 4.7 HOURS vs. 0.03 SECONDS -

  BRAD replays the segment over and over, but what they see... repeats unchanged every single time. “There has to be some explanation... data loss, a glitch... something... did you edit this?”

  “LOOK AT THE TIMESTAMP MAN... IT CONTINUES FLAWLESSLY... AND I HAVE FOUR OTHER ANGLES TO PROVE IT. SO THIS IS MY QUESTION... EXPLAIN THIS TO ME? DID YOU JUST ENTER AND COME BACK OUT... ONE OF THOSE...’JUST THE TIP’ TYPE OF SCENARIOS? OR WAS IT BLOCKED OFF AND DESTROYED, CAUSE TO ME... IT DOES LOOK LIKE YOU DID JACK SHIT IN THERE... AND YET YOU RETRIEVED AN ARTIFACT OF UKNOWN ORIGINS, WHICH I HIGHLY DOUBT WAS JUST... ‘LAYING THERE.’”

  Alden was at a loss for words... but ADIRA spoke up. “We were in there for hours. We found Ouro...”

  “WHO IS OURO?”

  “The planet. It’s sentient... we called him Ouro... he was quite nice, told us about the Precursors...”

  “HOLD UP... THAT ANNUNAKI BULLSHIT... NO WAY.”

  “There’s a lot to unpack there, I’ll tell you later.”

  “FINE, BUT THAT DOESN’T EXPLAIN... THIS.” The little figure waved his hands dramatically at the screen.

  “But... it does. We saw their murals... etched everywhere. We didn’t understand it at the time. Quantum variables... space time equations... BRAD, it will blow your capacitors. But... long story short, I think the Precursors figured out how to create dimensions not bound to our realms of time and space... and... not just in theory... stable practical applications. The inside of the structure must be a type of time... pocket.”

  “That’s why it didn’t know how long its creators had been gone... it literally didn’t have time to evaluate against. And that would mean... the breach...” Alden became unnervingly quiet... “... it was always going to be... us. I was the breach all along.” He stumbled backwards, crashing against the wall of the flight deck... bending some paneling.

  ADIRA watched him stagger at the realization... her systems analyzing his vitals: - SUBJECT MAJOR HALE... EXISTENTIAL LOOP: 100 % PROBABILITY -

  “HOLD ON... BREACH... WHAT...”

  “That’s not important right now. What is important is getting off this planet. When can we leave Brad... I want to get away from this place.”

  “SOON... VERY SOON IN FACT. BUT I WONT PLAY CHAUFFEUR TO A LADY COVERED IN A BEDSHEET AND HER SIDEPIECE WRAPPED IN A TOWEL... WHICH DOES NOTHING TO HIDE THAT MONSTER BY THE WAY. SO PLEASE... GET DRESSED AND THEN BRING YOUR ASSES BACK HERE FOR DUST OFF. I’VE BEEN DYING TO STRETCH MY LEGS.”

  ADIRA tightens the fabric of the silken sheet around her chest. “Dressed, but we don’t have clothes.”

  “OH, I TOOK THE LIBERTY TO MAKE YOU SOMETHING A BIT MORE... FORM FITTING. YOU WOULD HAVE FOUND IT IN THE CLOSET OF YOUR QUARTERS... IF YOU HAD TAKEN JUST A SECOND TO LOOK, BUT NO... YOU CHOSE OPTION TWO... VERY ADAM AND EVE OF YOU GUYS, BY THE WAY. NOT AN EASY LOOK TO PULL OFF”

  “You fabricated clothing? But how... when?”

  The tiny BRAD figure pointed to the screen.

  “Right... plenty of scanned data... got it.”

  “WOULD YOU LIKE A TINY DIORAMA OF ONE OF YOUR MORE INTIMATE MOMENTS... I COULD HOOK YOU UP.”

  “No thanks... and Brad, delete the footage, only keep the relevant part.”

  “FINE... BUT WE WILL SPEAK ABOUT THIS AT OUR NEXT STAFF MEETING... I HAVE GRIEVANCES.