No, it wasn’t fleeing. It turned its torn flank toward the station, and then there was a series of small explosions. Something shot out of the vesse... at high speed, so small at this distance that it looked like a cloud of buckshot, the projectiles coming into focus as they neared. They were made of twisted flesh and shell, with armored tips like arrowheads. Were they torpedoes? Nukes? The shining tips detached from the main bodies of the craft, racing ahead of them, and then the feed went. As she only wore it inside the house, I again admired her and thanked heras she gave me my own breakfast. Her jet black hair was braided behindher back and smelled of her shampoo, a scent that I liked. She did thehousework twice a week, on days that she wasn't at her college classes, Ithink she enjoyed working for us, or enjoyed the fringe benefits of it,so either way, we all got something out of it.Things got a lot busier when Emily gave birth to a son, our son. We namedhim Lucas, a name that. More

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