"Awake and feeling like I licked a dingo’s anus. Man, am I starved!" He poked a finger into my food, scooped up a wad, and popped it into his mouth. Speaking while he chewed, he said, "I notice you’ve still got your legs."

"No thanks to you. I should belt you a good one for that."

"Aww, Mom, don’t spank me. I was just trying to help." He looked down at my legs as if trying to see through my trousers and boots. "So, have you gone all red and fuzzy?"

"No." For some reason, I blushed.

"But you got moss all through you?"

"Yes."

"Checked out by the doctor?"

"Checked out by myself with a Bumbler."

His eyes narrowed beneath the gold — probably a dubious look, though it was never easy to tell with his face so hidden behind metal. Finally, he shrugged and sat down beside me. Plucking the spoon from my fingers, he started to eat my meal. "So what’s it like, Mom?" he asked between mouthfuls. "Being all alien inside."

"So far, not much different."

"Kaisho Namida got all spooky. Do you think you will too?"

"What do you mean, spooky?"

"First thing I did when I woke up, I searched navy files for Balrog info. Know what stood out? People have tried to kill Kaisho more than a dozen times. She gives some folks acute xenophobia."

It didn’t surprise me. Many humans are edgy around aliens, but a few suffer aversions so strong they lose control. One glimpse of a woman who’s half red moss, and a severe xenophobe could collapse into moaning fits. The panic might even turn violent: attacking the source of terror to make it go away. A deranged hysteric lashing out is no laughing matter… especially if the crazed person finds a weapon. "So," I said, "these xenophobes came at Kaisho, and she did something spooky?"

Tut nodded. "She just sat there… but she always saw them coming, even if they ran up from behind. And when one of the wackos tried to hit her, she grabbed their hands faster than lightning and held on so hard they couldn’t move."

"Impressive." Panicked people were noted for abnormal amounts of strength. I imagined Kaisho, sitting calmly in her wheelchair, snatching the wrists of a howling maniac and instantly clamping her attacker immobile.

"That’s not the spooky part," Tut said. "As soon as she caught hold of somebody, she’d pull ’em down so she could look in their eyes. Wouldn’t say a thing — she’d just stare. And five seconds later, they’d either faint dead away or go all calm like vanilla ice cream. They’d stay like that a few minutes, then get up and ask what all the fuss was about." He set down the spoon he’d been eating with, then turned and looked at me. "Can you do stuff like that, Mom?"

He waited… as if daring me to do something to his mind while our eyes were locked… or maybe he was hoping I’d affect him somehow. I held his stare for only a few heartbeats; then I dropped my gaze. "I can’t do spooky stuff, Tut. And if I could, I wouldn’t want to. Back in Zoonau, the Balrog gave me a vision — like it was letting me in on the way its spores perceived the world. Suddenly I had this sixth sense that could see the truth of people: their life force or karma or something. I put up with it for maybe three seconds. Then I yelled at the Balrog to take the visions away."

"Because the truth about people is scary? They’re evil and ugly or something?"

"Nobody was evil or ugly. I just didn’t want… it was like the Balrog was offering me an incredible gift, and I didn’t know what would happen if I accepted. I was afraid of what might be expected from me."

"Huh." He looked at me. "Am I sensing a sexual subtext here? Cuz I gotta tell you, Mom, you’re talking like a virgin who’s afraid she’s going to like it."

"Go to hell." I pushed him away and got out of my chair. "That’s the last time I confide in you."

"Oh, you were confiding? No wonder I didn’t recognize it. Hey, where’re you going?"

I was already halfway to the door. "I’m going to my cabin. You’ve eaten all my supper anyway."

"Okay. Do you want me to come with you?"

I stopped and stared at him. "What?"

"Should I go with you back to your cabin?"

"Why would I want that? I’m mad at you."

"Yeah, but… I got this message from Auntie Festina…"

"Auntie?"

He shrugged. "She’s obviously your sister, Mom. Think I don’t see the family resemblance?"

It was a waste of time trying to reason with Tut once he’d got an idea into his head. "Okay. You got a message from Auntie Festina. What did she say?"

"She asked if I wanted to go on some dangerous mission tomorrow. I said sure, why not? She started to give reasons, like maybe she hoped I’d back out, but I kept saying no, no, I’d come along. So finally, she told me okay, but it’d be a good idea if I got my affairs in order. Took me a while to figure out what she meant, but…"

I rolled my eyes. "You thought she was telling you to have an affair."

"Aww, come on, Mom — ‘putting your affairs in order’ is a figure of speech."

He sounded like I’d hurt his feelings by thinking he was stupid. "Sorry," I said. "My mistake."

"Auntie Festina meant I should take care of stuff in case I die tomorrow. I tried to think of anything I should take care of… and eventually, I thought of you." He rolled his chair back from the table, then turned it in my direction and kept rolling till he’d come right up to me. He was still sitting down, but with his tallness and my shortness, we were almost eye to eye. "Anything I can do for you tonight, Youn Suu?"

I couldn’t remember him ever calling me by name. It took my breath away. "What are you thinking of?" I asked.

"Anything you like. Want me to play harmonica? Read you your favorite stories? Fuck you till you turn to butter? Kill you in your sleep?"

"Kill me in my sleep?"

"Well, yeah. If you can’t stand the thought of becoming moss, I could save you from a fate worse than death. I haven’t figured out how to kill you without the League of Peoples killing me first, but if we both put our heads together…"

"No," I said, "you don’t have to do that." I leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. The gold was warm with Tut’s body temperature… but it was just gold, and I wished it had been flesh instead. "It’s sweet of you to offer, but I’m fine, really. Shiny-finey. Best thing for both of us is to get plenty of sleep. We want to be sharp for the landing."

"Okay, Mom. But the offer’s still open. Not just killing you, but any of that other stuff too."

I smiled… and for a moment I imagined saying what the hell, why die a virgin? Why not have one night, even if it’s Tut? It would be painfully awkward — before, during, and after — and I couldn’t imagine drowsing languidly in his arms after he’d offered to kill me in my sleep — but if not Tut, who? And if not now, when?

Silence. Then a sigh. I couldn’t do it. It was too much like the fantasy scenarios that girls discuss when they’re thirteen: suppose you’ve got this fatal disease and the only guy you can sleep with is someone who’s okay, but you don’t love him at all…

I didn’t feel like a bubbly girl. "Good night, Tut," I said. "See you in the morning."

He watched me all the way to the door. As I walked away down the hall, I heard him start wheeling around the mess hall on his chair, slamming into things hard.

Back in my cabin, the ship-soul informed me that the call to my mother would go through in twenty minutes. I passed the time writing a preliminary report of what happened in Zoonau — preliminary because it was just a list of point-form notes. Without too much trouble, I could have fleshed it out into a complete linear narrative, but I liked the abbreviated format better: the last, hurried testament of a tragic heroine, doomed to die on Muta or be consumed by parasitic spores. I imagined future Explorers reading my words and thinking, "How brave she was! To keep to her duty, writing reports, while staring death in the face."