SHINE DOWN (Revised on 3/19/24)

Lockspur leaned out over the edge of the ancient magma tube, peering into the shrinking darkness. He tossed a rock over and watched it fade away, wondering how far it would fall into the Moon's core. Even with an unobstructed view into the mouth of the 150 meter diameter shaft, his eyesight barely reached into the gloom a thousand meters. Whatever was down there wanted to remain hidden.

10 million kilometers above the chamber's roof opening, the system's two stars drifted into orbital synchronicity directly above the ancient shaft and a blinding beam of light raged downward. A single illuminating beam pierced the ancient vent, its porous lining heated, swelled, and fell away. The growing mass of falling rock became an unstoppable avalanche. Far beneath, the beam exploded out of the tube opening like a massive laser beam boring straight into the foundations of the moon. Dirt and rubble rained down on the island by the tons.

On the surface, Lockspur shielded his eyes as the intense rays scoured all shadows from the upper chamber. The snarling horde surrounding him scattered like cockroaches fleeing the coming of a kitchen light. He and his changing escorts found themselves bathed in a fiery glow. A thick cloud of dust wafted up from the chamber floor as the moon shook as though being torn apart.

370 kilometers beneath the upper chamber, Dahl and Eve sat at the top of a giant palm tree, gawking at the spot where Belial had just vanished, shielding their faces from the blinding beam drilling into the top of the volcanic island. The beam swatted away the motionless clouds and erased the pale blue sky, revealing an unnaturally smooth roof created by the hand of some ancient and unknown civilization billions of years earlier. Energy built up at the edge of the entrance hole. It pulsed and spread out across its glassy black surface as if moving through a network of carefully laid fiber optic cables. The raw power formed a symmetrical grid that disappeared over the horizon in every direction. It was finally clear, the outer portion of M6-117 was a construct cloaking the natural world below. 

"This chamber is like a mini dysonsphere," Dahl said, squinting up at the smooth roof. "Look." She gestured up in openmouthed amazement. "It's smooth."

"If that's so, where's the power source controlling it?" Eve said, still shielding her eyes from a beam of light as bright as the star casting it. "This level of engineering is on a systemwide scale. It's planetary manipulation beyond human capability or understanding."

Carolyn and the Queen dove into the shaft long before the solar alignment filled the shaft. If the queen was right, the airflow should have started by now, so why hadn't it? Lockspur thought. Did that mean the Queen had been wrong or did something else unexpected happen?

After the solar alignment began, a super heated gust of wind came up the shaft as if someone had ignited an enormous furnace far below. The heat knocked him backwards, and he toppled over, landing flat on his backside. His ribs felt as if they had shattered. He sat up, wiping his face and choking on the cloud of dust swirling around him. His ears rang as if he stood beneath an alarm bell. When he looked up, he saw the entire roof of the giant upper chamber blow up and outward in every direction. A split second later, the ground beneath began to break apart, and he plummeted downward, consumed by a rending maelstrom of crumbling dirt and falling rock. He clutched and grabbed at the empty air, wondering if this was the sign, and if it was, why hadn't the Queen warned him to keep back?

A pair of large gray arms reached out of the chaos and snatched Lockspur out of the falling bedlam. He rose out of the falling debris like a puppet hanging on marionette strings. A jagged stone crashed down atop the raptor's back, carrying him, and it lost its grip. But not before flipping him high into the air. As he soared upward, the panicked creature let out a shrill warning to the others. Lockspur arced out over the center of the now growing lava tube, looking down as if everything were happening in slow motion, cartwheeling and flailing, and feeling every bit the fool he looked. He stared around, wishing he'd never agreed to come. He thought that when he got back, if he got back, he was going to demand hazardous duty pay because this assignment sucks.

That's when it happened. Something large and very hard rocketed up between Lockspur's legs. It slammed into his groin with an explosive force that rushed upward through his stomach, filling his mouth with bile. He doubled over in aching pain, gasping for air and trying not to puke his own testicles. His winged savior flew out of the crumbling chamber, lifting him to safety. The remaining raptors fell back a few hundred yards, circling the growing maw as the magma shaft widened to 500 meters. Lockspur looked down into the massive hole, but still couldn't see the bottom.

A ground shattering rumble exploded somewhere deep in the bowels of the moon as a billion tons of falling debris crashed down, stripping away the inner walls of the ancient shaft as it went along. The two raptors nearest the hole screamed and flew away as the descending mass picked up speed and force. The congested rubble slowed and then wedged itself into the shaft a kilometer above the lower outlet.

Dahl and Eve covered their ears and screamed in pain as the building air pressure threatened to rupture every eardrum in the lower chamber. Then, as the planetary alignment passed by, the air flow turned back on, and in an instant, a billion cubic feet of now pressurized air rushed upward, pressing against the jammed up rock and massive boulders. Air pressure in the lower chamber rose to near critical levels until a billion tons of debris flew up through the thin atmosphere as if the Galaxy's biggest champagne bottle had just popped its cork. A massive plume of boulders and debris ejected all at once. The resulting dust storm spread through the upper atmosphere, nearly blotting out the light of the twin suns above. Surface temperatures plummeted by 40 degrees in seconds and that's when things that should have remained under cover seized the opportunity to come out and play.

Lockspur sat atop the flying raptor, surveying the scene unfolding below. When they emerged from the swirling chaos, he expected sunlight. But was greeted by churning blackened skies and the smell of molten brimstone. Flying through the burning dust, he thought, if this isn't hell, then hell does not exist.

He felt unsure of what to do next. Everything that had happened since their arrival on M6-117 seemed more like products of happenstance than a series of events going to plan. And now, the whole damn moon was in upheaval all around them. Even the air shock, as if the foundations of the moon were coming apart. And they were all down there, going through some kind of outlandish hell while he was up here, free as a bird. His unfounded sense of freedom would be short-lived.

Lockspur's time spent running around in the dark had left him a little ragged around the edges. But considering what had happened underground, and what was currently happening above ground, his confusion was understandable. He couldn't pinpoint how long he had been down there. It felt like days, maybe weeks. But if anyone had told him it had been over 30 days since the Hunter Gratzner's aft compartment collapsed on him and Dahl, he wouldn't have believed them. Why would he? He hadn't eaten or drank anything since this nightmare began. And as everyone knows, you cannot go without water for very long.

What he failed to consider was that Lilith's impromptu blood infusion had not only repaired his injuries, but that her regenerative blood had also kept him from succumbing to both starvation and dehydration.

An explosion deep in the moon's core sent out another reverberating shockwave of spreading dust. The blast almost unseated Lockspur from his raptor. Luckily, just before he slid off the raptor's hind quarters and plummeted to his death, it righted itself and Lockspur regained his tenuous hand hold.

In the dark sky, an enormous column of debris rose miles in the sky, forming a hellish layer of thick dust high overhead. The choking debris created a nearly impenetrable layer, blotting out much of the sunlight from the two stars.

At first, losing light seemed a minor annoyance. But the erupting column showed no signs of slowing. In fact, the erupting plume seemed to worsen by the minute, leading Lockspur to reason it was going to get a lot darker before the light returned. If the light returned. He wasn't sure if the planet would hold together long enough to find his ship and retrieve his team.

Far beneath the rising column, the dry surface had already faded to a murky brown, allowing the baked hard pan soil to cool and split open. If this kept up, there was no doubt the moon would crumble.

He jerked around wildly, scanning the area behind and beneath him. He saw nothing but darkening terrain. In the gloom of this new Hades, he had utterly no idea where they had come out or that they were 40 kilometers to the south of the Hunter Gratzner's aft wreckage.

It soon became clear it would be far more difficult to locate the craft than he had hoped, if not, all together impossible. That's when he looked down and saw the cracked, parched ground boiling and churning and went bug-eyed with fear.

Thousands, if not tens of thousands of raptors, were digging their way up through what looked like giant ant hills for as far as the naked eye could see. Undeterred by the blotted out UV rays, the emerging raptors took to the sky in a rising cloud of gnashing teeth and razor-sharp claws. And these raptors were not small.

If he had understood John's stolen crash report correctly, that meant in no time, the creatures would enter some sort of primeval feeding frenzy that would scour the surface of the planet clean of all life, including most of the smaller, weaker raptors and any hapless humans caught in the path of the quickly spreading chaos.

We have to get to the ship now, he thought, catching movement in the corner of his eye. "Chinga tu madre," he screamed, kicking his heels into the sides of his flying steed and yanking its head off to one side to make it veer away. A split second later, a raptor the size of a small locomotive rocketed past. Its forearm sized claws missed Lockspur's face by half an inch. The blast of wind swirling in its wake nearly peeled him off the back of his ride for the second time in five minutes. He jostled for position sitting atop the raptor's back. Suddenly wishing he had a saddle to keep his ass in place. "Go, god dammit," he screamed in the raptor's ear and threw himself flat on its back, clumsily trying to hold the raptor's meaty neck.

The winged trio pulled their wings back in unison, hugging against their sides and fell like thousand pound bombs dropped from a WWII bomb bay. He swore he could hear them whistling as they fell towards the ground.

He wasn't sure if the raptor had done it on purpose or if that's just the way its wings drew back. But the creature's wings had wrapped over him, holding him secure against its back. During the fall, he was certain if the creature's wings hadn't covered him, he would have descended by himself. And no saddle, no matter how strong it was, would have held him on during the breath stealing 300 KPH freefall.

Lockspur peered through the narrow crease left where the creature's wings didn't overlap. To his horror, the giant raptor that almost separated his head from his body was ¾ of a mile back, doing the same thing. Only, with its considerably heavier weight advantage, gravity was helping it catch up in a hurry.

There's no way any of them were going to escape, he thought. "It's going to be on us in no time," he shouted.

That's when the raptor on their right unfurled its wings like an opening parachute and came to an immediate stop. It twisted around to face its enemy and then flew upward, pumping its wings with all its might. It gained speed as the gap closed. The incoming titan saw its lesser kin and opened its gigantic maw. It bared its arm-sized fangs and torrents of saliva swept backward over its face, becoming a sticky spray in the violent wind. The falling raptor pulled itself inward, compressing its size into a massive torpedo, dropping wind resistance and picking up even more speed. It became a supersonic mouth filled with razor-sharp teeth and an insatiable hunger. The smaller raptor did not veer off. It held its course, screaming and taunting its hungry kin.

Lockspur watched in a mixture of amazement and terror as the much smaller raptor drove its body into the creature's open jaws. Its massive thousand pound frame wedged halfway down the giant raptor's gullet, choking off its enemy's windpipe. The enormous raptor bucked and flailed, trying in vain to dislodge the smaller raptor, but its smaller cousin's thick hide had tangled in its fangs. The two foes, forever locked together, plummeted to their deaths somewhere in the coming maelstrom.

Lockspur did not see the creatures strike the ground. There was no time to watch the inevitable conclusion. He barely had enough time to register that it had sacrificed itself to save him before another onslaught of snapping teeth flew in from behind. Only this time, there was a group of three smaller raptors, each an equal size to the two raptors he flew with.

Strange, I thought, they only attacked smaller raptors. But these three are pack hunting. Two more fell into the formation behind them. Five against two. Nice odds, he thought. If you're on their side of the equation. Now, I guess survival comes down to who gets tired first.

The raptor Lockspur clung to shrieked something at its comrade and gestured towards a deep slash in the landscape far below. Its wingman nodded, and they plummeted at the narrow crevice at speeds fast enough to rob Lockspur of his breath. He covered his face, diverting some of the wind blast, and barely regained enough air to keep himself from passing out. In the looming distance, he saw what they were racing towards. A narrow trench cut out by some long dried-up river that ran towards the still illuminated horizon.

The dust hasn't reached the horizon yet; he thought. If they can make it out of this cloud cover, they won't be able to follow. Shit. These things are smart. Then he saw it growing on the horizon. The Hunter Gratzner wreckage was still in an area protected by light, and hope exploded in his heart. They were going to make it.

Hope was short-lived. He turned back, found there were 6 raptors soaring after them and realized who had sent them. Carolyn's grandfather. The Purifier had sent them to prevent him from reaching his ship and rescuing his friends. From interfering in his plan to seize the obelisk.

"Bastard knew," he said to himself. "Knew we wouldn't run and hide. He had them waiting for us." Without warning, Lockspur's stomach flipped upside down and eyesight narrowed. He almost passed out. If the creature hadn't caught him and held him on its back, he would have fallen to his death.

The raptor had reached the bottom of the narrow crack, speed reaching nearly 400 KPH. It spread its wings wide and pulled out of the high g dive at the last possible second. Its belly almost skimmed the rocky ground as it pulled nearly 10gs. The two fleeing raptors maneuvered through the twisting canyon at well over 350 KPH. Every time the raptor banked hard -which seemed like every couple of hundred yards- it pulled an even higher g force than the turn before. And each time it did, Lockspur sank a little further into the darkness. If they kept the pace up much longer, he supposed sooner than later, he would stay in the black. The strain on his body would be too much and he would never wake up again.

Looking forward, he saw the canyon narrowed to an opening barely wide enough for a man to step through. He looked around, seeing their chasers had backed off about a hundred yards. And now there were 8 raptors in tow. But none of them could get around the lead raptor's wingman, lest they all crash and burn.

When Lockspur and his winged steed finally reached the opening, it flipped to the left 90°, left wing tip pointing down, right wing tip pointing up, and burst out through the narrow opening, bathed in a blanket of warm sunlight. But to his horror, the aft raptors showed no signs of slowing or peeling off for darker skies. In fact, they had closed the gap between themselves and the second raptor, meaning to follow them into the open desert, no matter where the chase may lead.

Just as the aft raptor reached the opening, it parachuted its wings, came to an immediate stop, and used its body to block the opening. With no time for course corrections, many of its chasers either struck it in the back or shattered off the jagged rocks in a splatter wash of blood and broken bone. All caught in the jam up toppled out onto barren sand beyond the opening. Some screamed and flopped about in the throes of death, while others lay twisted and dead. But it had not tricked all their chasers. Not all had perished in the last effort to rid Lockspur of his unwanted tails. Some had fallen back and waited for a safer opportunity to give chase. After all, these raptors were smart now.

As Lockspur looked ahead, certain they were safe. He missed the two raptors that exploded through the opening, leaving the protection of the dark storm and coming on fast. They flew on, unfazed by the glare of daylight or the searing UV rays hidden within it. They were immune to its effects. The predators flew higher into the pale blue sky, like patient vultures following a vulnerable prey. They would track their targets to their final destination and then descend to feed.

Down below, Lockspur and his companion flew just above the baking surface, heading towards the wreckage on the horizon. His raptor faltered, slowed to a jittery glide, and scanned behind them for signs of followers. All the while, unaware of the danger spiraling thousands of feet above their heads.

Lockspur saw the ship in the nearing distance. It sat waiting where Moss had landed it. He slapped the raptor on the back and cried out, "There. It's there." He had never been happier in his life. He was going to rescue his teammates. And nothing was going to stop him. Lockspur's raptor faltered again, pitched hard to the side, and its wing tip struck the ground. Both rider and steed cartwheeled away in a rolling explosion of dust. Lockspur tumbled across the parched sand, a giant tumbling raptor threatening to crush him as the two unlikely comrades came to a wrenching halt. The raptor's legs were inches from his face, twitching and convulsing. He gasped for air and choked out sand, staring at the blurry blood caked emergency hatch. Lockspur rubbed his eyes and squinted up at two circling specks. The dark pinpricks spiraled downward. Drifting on the gently sinking thermals. He blinked dumbly, trying desperately to focus in on the approaching apparitions. The spots picked up speed and grew at an alarming rate. Lockspur leapt to his feet, grabbed his escort's forearm, and tried to lift the raptor off the ground. A deep, bloodless gash ran down the length of its right side and he realized the locomotive sized raptor hadn't meant to decapitate him. It was trying to disembowel his ride and kill them both. The raptors were not looking for a meal, they were here to kill him and his team.

Two mind-numbing shrieks came from high overhead and several things happened almost at once. The emergency hatch on his ship burst open with a resounding metal thud that drew his attention towards the large man-thing standing in the open hatch. It was not quite human, more humanoid in appearance. And damn if it wasn't huge. Larger than any man Lockspur had ever met, or heard of. As it waved him towards the door, Lockspur's ride opened its eyes, grabbed him by the seat of the pants, and hurled him at the open hatch. The raptor landed 10 feet away, face down in the blistering sand, unconscious and barely breathing. One of their chasers landed between a flying Lockspur and the rapidly approaching hatch. The other landed between him and his expiring ride. The first raptor reached up with its talons outstretched and raked Lockspur from chin to toes as he soared by. He struck the man-thing mid-chest and both of them ended up in a heap on the far wall as someone inside the hatchway slammed and locked it behind him.

Lockspur sat up wide eyed, felt the flesh beneath his shredded t-shirt and pulled his hand out, expecting it to come away covered in blood. There was none. He was happier yet to discover the portion of his guts he expected to see in his hand were not there either.

Over the course of his ordeal, Lockspur had lost a considerable amount of weight and fortunately his once tight form fitting clothes had become baggy, leaving just enough room between fabric and skin for a set of claws to pass through while doing no permanent damage.

Lockspur leapt from the floor, not even acknowledging his saviors, and took off towards the armory at a full run. His saviors followed effortlessly, keeping up as he weaved through the narrow corridors. When he reached the armory, he grabbed a rifle, slammed a loaded magazine in, and threw it at one of his new companions. The not-man looked at the rifle as if it were a club or maybe a toy club and Lockspur seized it, jacked a round in the chamber and fired a single round into a nearby trash can. The report in the all metal room was deafening, but neither of his saviors batted an eye. Then he shoved it back into the male's hands and said, "Understand?"

He quickly prepared 2 more rifles, tossed one at the female and then ran out, leaving them to decide if they wanted to follow. After a few seconds, he heard them catching up quickly.

When they reached the sealed escape hatch, Lockspur kicked the latch handle down and to the right and lunged through the opening, falling to his knees, weapon on his shoulder. The first raptor, now standing over his unconscious foe, readying itself to strike, never stood a chance. Three rounds struck it at the base of its skull- a lucky shot at best- and the back of its head disappeared in a spray of blue blood, fragmented bone and tissue. The damage severed its brainstem and dropped it to the ground, twitching and kicking. The dead raptor's still agile partner slammed its hind legs into the loose soil with enough force to send up a shockwave of dust and jumped into the air, flying straight at Lockspur.

Before he could get his weapon around to defend himself, the thousand pound animal landed beside him, knocking him to the ground. The raptor reared up high, screamed at the sky overhead and its rage filled the air like angry fire. Lockspur's eardrums rang painfully. But before the creature came down with a killing blow, ending his life, a voice called out from the open hatch.

Lockspur struggled to turn far enough to see what had drawn the creature's attention and saw the two humanoids emerging from the ship. They stopped just outside the hatch, pointing their rifles at the raptor. But neither made any attempt to fire. They just stood there looking at one another and saying nothing.

"Shoot the fucker," he screamed, wriggling out from beneath the frozen raptor. He retrieved his weapon, found it bent and useless, and hurled at the creature. It bounced off, rousing the raptor for a moment. But it didn't move to attack him. It just stood there as if it were suddenly confused. "Shoot, dammit," he screamed again. But his companions did not. The three of them just moved closer to each other as if speaking without using words.

Lockspur seized the opportunity and ran around the raptor, skidded to a stop, and fell on his knees by his fallen comrade's side. He placed an ear on its chest and shouted angrily. "Shoot it. He's still alive. Shoot it, damn you."

The three raptors turned to look at him and when he realized the fight was over, he added, "If none of you are going to kill the other, then get your asses over here and help me get him to the infirmary before he bleeds out. I can't lift him by myself."

The raptor that chased Lockspur and his injured steed turned to the others and made a guttural noise, as if trying to speak. It touched its neck. The larger humanoid, obviously the male one, nodded and gestured back in the direction it came from. The raptor jumped into the air, flapping its enormous wings wildly and flew away.

The male humanoid, 6'-9" tall, pale scaly skin and nearly 450 pounds, lifted the limp, lalling raptor as if it weighed no more than a child's stuffed doll. "Follow me," the giant said, walking towards the hatch.

Lockspur followed him, with the female close on his heels. To keep up, Lockspur had to take two giant steps to the male's every one. The female, only an inch or two shorter, held out her rifle for Lockspur to take. When he did, he noticed her fingers were too big to even fit through the trigger guard. Neither of them could have hoped to shoot the toy rifles he gave them.

The creature laid the raptor on the table. The raptor groaned in pain. Lockspur activated the auto-doc and was astonished to find the AI overseeing its operation went to work running a scan. He wasn't sure to what end that would result, but he had to try something. Even if he believed the device would only work on humans.

A synthetic voice came out of a nearby speaker, "There is a 73.7% chance this creature will expire within the next few minutes." Then, a moment later, "There is nothing I can do to repair its injuries. Its unnatural physiology is beyond my understanding."

"Damn." Lockspur blared and kicked the auto-doc twice. "We came here to keep that from happening. You useless bucket of bolts. Fix him. He saved me. Fix him."

"Screaming will solve nothing, chief." the synthetic auto-doc voice responded. "This creature has lost too much blood."

"Just shut up and do something, damn you. Isn't that why they put you here? To help the crew when they need it?"

"This creature is not part of the crew. If it were, I would have detailed files on its anatomy."

"It's part of my crew," Lockspur raged, and the two humanoids looked from him to one another in surprise.

"No matter how regrettable this situation is, chief." the auto-doc AI said, genuinely sounding sorry. "I simply do not possess the necessary data files on this animal's physiology to make an appropriate treatment plan in time to save its life."

"Do something, dammit," he screamed guiltily. "It saved my life. They all saved my life. They sacrificed themselves to get me back here in one piece. I won't let him die." Lockspur didn't understand why he cared about the creature, but he did. What makes a man kill one raptor and try to save another? He didn't know; he didn't care. Caroline had altered them somehow. Humanized them. They weren't just raptors. They had minds and feelings and… souls.

"Perhaps if Lady Hemmingford were here," the auto-doc said, pulling him out of his own thoughts. "She may have a better understanding of these creatures."

"Lady Hemmingford," Lockspur said, more to himself than anyone else. "That's it. You're a genius."

"I am a state-of-the-art Hal 2,000. Genius does not begin to describe me."

He turned to his two new associates and said, "Can you understand me?"

"Perfectly," the man said in a voice so deep Lockspur could feel it resonating in his chest. Whatever Carolyn had done to these two raptors earlier on, it was having a profound impact on both their psychology and physiology.

"Good." Lockspur said, pointing at a stainless steel cabinet. "See if you can find a trauma kit." He ran to the raptor's side and reeled around. "And get the transfusion kit, too." He turned to the female and said, "Find me a package of bandages? That would be great." He looked into the AIs viewscreen and said, "Do a full body scan of me and tell me if there are any anomalies in my blood."

"What are you going to do to our brother?" the female asked, turning to a bank of cabinets he had gestured at and began pulling out the drawers one by one.

"Brother?" Lockspur repeated, more to himself than either of them. "He's your brother?"

"Yes," the humanoid male replied, returning with a small olive drab bag made of canvas.

The giant handed over the trauma kit, and Lockspur opened the top flap. He took out a large syringe-the size of a turkey baster. It came complete with a heavy gauge needle that looked more like a goddamn garden hose. Every child's worst nightmare. "Nothing yet," he said, tearing off the end of the protective covering and letting the syringe slide out in his hand. "This is for me. I'm pretty sure I still have some of Lilith's blood coursing through my veins and I'm pretty sure if it kept me alive with half my guts hanging out, it could be just what your brother needs."

"Scan complete," the auto-doc said. "I have detected many anomalies scattered throughout your circulatory system and tissues."

"Can you help?" the female asked.

"No guarantees, senorita." Lockspur said, walking over to the mirror and stared at himself. He placed the syringe against the underside of his forearm, and a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead. His hand shook. He hated needles. They had scared the shit out of him since he was just a kid. Then, just before he mustered the courage to jam the damn thing into his arm, he looked up at the female in the mirror and said, "if we do nothing, he's dead anyhow, right?"

"Why do you think her blood might help him? Our brother is not human. Her blood… Your blood… Your human blood could kill him."

"It won't."

"How do you know?" the male asked.

"Two reasons," Lockspur said, backing the tip off. "One, I don't think Lilith is quite human, and two, the blood flowing through her veins… isn't blood. Or at least, that's what she said. I didn't really believe her. You know, mercenaries are always trying to make themselves out to be bad asses. But none of the far-fetched shit she's told me in the past has ever proved to be an exaggeration. So… I gotta believe this is going to help."

"Explain," the female demanded, as he placed the tip of the syringe on his skin again.

"We really don't have time for this," he said in a wavering voice.

"Make time," the male said.

"Fine." Lockspur replied, as an expression of annoyance flashed across his face. "Every blood cell in Lilith's body is a living organism, existing only to keep the host alive. Subatomic biotech. capable of forming and reforming cells as they see fit."

"His cells are different. His blood is different."

"I'm no doctor, but I think cells are cells. It's all just DNA, right? If we're lucky, Lilith's blood cells should be able to mimic his cells and repair his injuries."

"How much blood do you intend to draw from yourself?" the male asked.

"He is considerably larger than you," the female added. "It seems more than likely neither of you would survive such a procedure."

"Good point." Lockspur said, offering her a look that clearly meant he had an idea, and that they may not like it. He turned to the male and said, "I need you to get the raptor corpse outside and bring it in here. We need its blood."

"You need his what?" the male interrupted. "We do not disrespect our dead."

"No." Lockspur replied angrily. "Because the more we stand her talking about bullshit. The more you disrespect the living." He threw up his hand before either of them could protest further. "Listen, we may end up with two corpses. I can't say if any of this will work. But I know I'm done talking about this shit. So, either get your asses out there and get me what I need to save your brother's life or get the fuck out of here and let me try to save him myself. Because we're wasting time he doesn't have."

Lockspur turned back to the mirror, looked in his own eyes, and said, "I know you can hear me. I know there are some of you still in there. You need to save him. I can't do it by myself and I won't stand by and let him die. Please, help me save him. You owe him. He saved you, too."

To his surprise, his dark brown pupils turned sky blue and then back to brown.

"You are there," he said to himself. "You can hear me."

His eyes flashed again.

"Will you help?"

They flashed again.

The hatch opened, and the male walked in carrying the dead raptor. "Place it in the stasis pod and then put your brother on top of it." He did as Lockspur asked.

The female looked at Lockspur suspiciously and said, "Brother, there's something different about him. His eyes. They… change."

Lockspur jammed the syringe in his arm and drew the plunger back slowly. As it filled with blood, his eyes faded from brilliant blue to a golden brown. He removed the syringe, walked to the pod, and injected the blood into the raptor. Then he closed the lid and said, "And now we wait."

"For what?" the female asked, going over and looking through the viewport.

"To find out how many bodies we need to bury."