The day after his talk, Nemta relapsed, returning to fever, muscle cramps, blinding headaches, vomiting, and delirium. He knew what was happening, in his lucid moments, but was unable to stop it. He remembered begging Friend Terry to kill him, that he couldn't do it. Begging Mother to help him, to make the pain stop. He crawled out to one of the green mantids and begged them to make him the medications, promising that he just needed a little to take the edge off.

Several times he had to be restrained to his bed, where he twisted and moaned, snapping at anyone who came near him. For three days he screamed from the pain and agony, his internal organs on fire. Even his bone marrow hurt. His joints were full of ground glass, agonizing when he moved.

The whole time the broodcarriers cared for him. Cleaning him when he needed it, helping him eat when he could, giving him fluids, and singing to him to try to ease his discomfort.

More than a few times he wept for things he felt the loss of but didn't understand. Often he cried out for Mother, but didn't mean the Hamaroosa, yet cried with relief when she appeared to comfort him.

They prayed, quietly, for him. Asking for strength and endurance to be granted to him. Asking for his pain and suffering to be shouldered. Sometimes it made him angry, other times it filled him with emotions he didn't understand, still other times he cried for reasons he didn't understand even as he prayed with them, mumbling along as he writhed.

Finally, one morning, he was able to sit up on his own. His hands shook, and he realized that he had on a medical wrist band with a plastic tube that ran up his arm to where a fluid pack was taped to his shoulder.

"Shh, Nemta sweetie, is safe is warm," a broodcarrier he didn't recognize said. He marking were different and she was missing two fingers on her hand, her arm scarred and the fur patchy.

"Thirsty," he managed to rasp.

The broodcarrier held up a squeeze bottle and let him drink. The fluid squirted into his mouth and the feeling of having eaten sand for a month eased up.

"Terry? Mother?" Nemta asked.

"Will get. Rest, Nemta sweetie, will get," the broodcarrier said. She limped out of the hut and Nemta saw several long thick scars down her back.

Nemta laid back, staring at his roof. The lights were dim, easy on his eyes. He still hurt, all over, but he didn't feel like he was going to start screaming just from the light.

Friend Terry came in, the broodcarrier admonishing him to be careful, to be gentle with Nemta.

Friend Terry sat down, stroking the broodcarrier down the back, looking at Nemta. "You look like hell, kid. How do you feel?"

Nemta almost busted up laughing, but managed to get it under control. He swallowed several times, took a sip off the offered squirt bottle, and stared.

"How... how long?" Nemta asked.

Friend Terry shook his head. "You aren't stopping us from leaving. We can't leave yet," Friend Terry said. "I take some of you into jumpspace and you'll die. I'm not even sure some of you could survive being inside a ship right now."

Nemta swallowed. "Us?"

Friend Terry nodded. "You aren't the only one detoxing. I found a couple groups in the two nearby cities. They've been living off the food from the city's food dispensers, which mean a couple days after being here they started doing through the same thing you did."

Nemta put his face in his hands and started crying with relief. It was so strong it almost dragged him down. He had never felt it that intense, not even when he had managed to land his fighter craft after the battle, not even when he had made the cutoff to get to the next phase of pilot school.

The broodcarrier gently rubbed his fur, cleaning his face off with a cloth when he was done crying. Nemta let the broodcarrier lay him back on the bed and cover him back up with his blanket.

"I'm sorry," Nemta said, looking up.

Friend Terry shook his head. "A long time ago, I took a hit the head. Blew my head clean off," Friend Terry said. "Took me nearly a year to recover. One minute I was fighting the next I was waking up in a therapy bed. I don't know exactly what you're going through, but I can relate. My brain took two months to unscramble. I cried like my heart was breaking because the nurse was proud of me I'd finished my jello once."

Nemta nodded, resisting the urge to draw back from Friend Terry at the idea that he'd been killed and returned. "I do not understand what I am feeling. I am angry at you that you are not feeling like me, jealous that you are already past it, and afraid of you because you could die and come back."

Friend Terry nodded again as the broodcarrier made soft crooning noises and wiped Nemta's face again with a warm dry cloth.

"It's all right, kid," Friend Terry said. "You aren't the only one."

"Bit," the broodcarrier said, ducking her head shyly and glancing at Friend Terry.

"It's OK, Selvi'isha, I understand," Friend Terry said, petting her neck. "You were sick and thought I was the one hurting you."

"She bit you?" Nemta asked. She couldn't imagine a broodcarrier hurting anyone.

Friend Terry nodded. "Yup. The broodcarriers recover faster than anyone else."

"I hadn't even thought it could happen to them," Nemta admitted. He started crying again, petting the broodcarrier's arm. "I'm sorry."

"Is OK. Nemta sweetie sicky sick," the broodcarrier, Selvi'isha, said shyly. "Nemta good, Nemta strong, Nemta get better soon."

Nemta nodded. He yawned, feeling exhausted.

"Get some sleep kid, Selvi'isha or Phreni'ima will take care of you," Friend Terry said, standing up slowly and carefully.

"What will you be doing?" Nemta yawned.

Friend Terry shrugged. "What I've been doing since they got me up and running again. Working on getting you guys off this planet and somewhere safe."

Friend Terry left and Nemta closed his eyes. He fell asleep quickly.

And dreamed strange, disconnected dreams, where his emotions whiplashed and whipsawed through him.

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

Mother sat down on the chair, sighing and shifting until she was comfortable.

"How are you today?" She asked Nemta after she took a drink from her carafe.

"Head hurts," Nemta admitted.

"Lulvi'ina told me you were able to take a bath today," Mother said. "Do you feel better?"

Nemta nodded. "My fur doesn't feel sticky and gross. I'm just really tired and not sure if it's worth it to get out of bed."

Mother made a hmm noise and slowly nodded. "You are starting to recover. I felt much the same way a year ago. You will need watched closely."

"Why?" Nemta asked.

"Fear, sadness, feelings of worthlessness, can combine to make you so despondent that you are willing to end your own life," Mother said. "Then you will start to get better, eventually."

"I feel as if we can't leave because of me," Nemta admitted. He started to turn over, turn away from Mother, when she reached out and put her hand on his chest.

"You are not to blame. After Friend 303 and Friend Terry found Phreni'ima and the littles, he became extremely agitated, angry at himself for not searching better," Mother said. "He spent days searching for others."

Nemta looked at Selvi'isha and Mother nodded. "Indeed. We have gone from a bare dozen to nearly fifty, not counting the littles. More than half were living in the nearby cities eating from the food dispensers and thus are suffering the same things you are. You are further along than all but the Telkan broodcarriers. They recovered quickly, and have no periods deep sadness."

Lulvi'ina reached out and patted Nemta's leg. "Busy. Many sicky sick. Is OK. Will take care."

Mother nodded, then reached out and put her hand on Nemta's forehead. "You'll have good days and you'll have bad days, but soon the good days will outnumber the bad ones, the good moments will outweigh the bad ones."

"My whole life before now is a fog. Like it happened to someone else," Nemta admitted.

Mother made hmm noises as she moved her hand back and forth on her cane, obviously thinking. "In a way, Nemta, it did. I feel much the same thing, looking back on my life. Eventually you will be able to remember things more clearly, but right now you're brain is trying to figure out how it should feel about those memories, so it tries to avoid them."

Nemta nodded.

"Friend Terry asked me to make sure you are no longer afraid of him," Mother said. She gave a low chuckle. "Like many others, you became afraid of him," she laughed softly. "Friend Terry has begun wearing a spray on scent he calls cologne so that his scent does not frighten."

"Why is that funny?" Nemta asked.

"It smells faintly of flowers and some of the younger podlings and cuddles have bitten him thinking he smells good," Mother said.

That made Nemta laughed. Just the mental image, so so clear, of Friend Terry lifting his arm and sighing with a couple of podlings and a cuddle hanging off his arm by their little teeth. He could clearly visualize Friend Terry's expression of put upon exasperation as the littles looked around with their big eyes, obviously confused while they bit.

Mother smiled widely, as if she knew what Nemta was thinking.

"When can I get out of bed?" Nemta asked, still smiling.

"Tomorrow, if you are still feeling good, we'll take you outside to sit in the sun. I must warn you, there have been many changes," Mother warned.

Nemta opened his mouth to protest and ended up yawning.

"Rest well, Friend Nemta," Mother said, reaching out with one hand to pat his chest.

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

Nemta stared around him as Phreni'ima helped him out into the sunshine. The encampment had been expanded again, more houses, more space, more guns on the walls. The biggest one was that there was a fountain in the middle of the courtyard that he could see hatchlings swimming in while two broodcarriers watched, as well as a complex structure that included slides, bars, rings hanging from chains, and hiding spots. As he watched three podlings slid down the slide with a loud "WHEE!" landing on the sand with little thumps. They giggled and waddled back into complex structure. Several littles were clustered around each of several broodcarriers, holograms showing shapes and colors and objects at the broodcarriers sung little songs to teach the littles about what they were.

The surge of jealousy that Nemta felt looking at the littles being taught by the broodcarriers was almost painful.

He had grown up in a creche, taught by robots and display screens.

The ship had gotten bigger in its framework. The engines were bigger, the main body of the ship was bigger. Nemta could hear the grinders now, although they seemed muted compared to how they had been. Robots were moving around on the frame, welding sparks coming from them.

Phreni'ima helped Nemta over to where there were a half-dozen large flat rocks. Two of them had broodcarriers curled up with sleeping littles nestled in with them. She climbed up on the rock, curled up, and patted next to her. Nemta sat down on the rock and let her lean him back so he was half laying against her warm side. She covered his chest with her fluffy tail and he relaxed.

The sun was warm, Phreni'ima was comforting, and soon Nemta dozed off. After a bit he woke up, feeling better, less sore, not as lethargic.

He had a hatchling and a podling laying on his chest under the broodcarrier's fluffy tail. Phreni'ima was purring, as was the little fluffy tailed podling. The hatchling was making little whistling sounds as it slept.

"You awake, kid?" Came Friend Terry's rumbling voice.

Nemta looked over, seeing Friend Terry sitting on a nearby rock. From the shadow, Nemta figured he'd been asleep almost an hour. "Yes, I'm awake," he said.

Friend Terry nodded. "Good. You look better. Your fur's got a nice glossy sheen to it," the Terran said.

Nemta saw a hatchling hopping over to the rock that Friend Terry sat on. It was drooling as it hopped, the toddler Shavashan fixated on something that Nemta couldn't see.

"I feel better," Nemta admitted. He nodded at the ship. "It has gotten much bigger."

Friend Terry smiled. "Yeah. More people to take back. It's not like I can leave or send the mantids back."

Nemta frowned. "Why not? You would have been back by now."

Friend Terry shook his head. "Well, if I didn't get blown out of space by some wandering Precursor or your side, if I reached a neutral or Terran held planet, then the rescue ship would have to be sent. You're looking at a couple of weeks one way even in the upper jumpspace bands, even in hyperspace."

Friend Terry made a gesture encompassing the encampment. "That's a couple of weeks, each way, with a week or so to get the transport dispatched, that I wouldn't be here to protect this place. Without the mantids doing maintenance on me, I'd start having problems in a week or so."

"What about the guns?" Nemta asked.

"They help, but I go out every night and hunt the Precursors," he waved at a stack of duralloy crates. "I disable them by ripping out their power source, drag them back to the edge of camp, let the other ones hiding in the woods see me rip open their skulls, disable the security charges, then power them up and question them. Those willing to talk, they get put in the crates after I take them apart and remove all the power sources."

"And the ones that don't talk?" Nemta asked when Friend Terry paused.

"I let the others hiding in the woods see me toss those ones into the grinders," Friend Terry said. He looked down. "Really?" He sighed.

"What?" Nemta frowned.

Friend Terry lifted up his arm from behind the rock. The drooling hatchling had half of the end of Friend Terry's finger in his mouth and was busy chewing away, drooling as he did so, his little hands holding onto Friend Terry's finger tightly. The hatchling was obviously proud of himself, looking around with his wide eyes as he gnawed away.

"Does that not hurt?" Nemta asked.

Friend Terry chuckled, lifting up the hatchling in front of his face. "No. My skin feels soft to the touch, but I can shrug light crew served weapons with my skin alone. I can feel him biting me, but it doesn't hurt."

A broodcarrier hustled up, lifting up the hatchling by putting her paw under it and lifting until it was sitting on her paw, still gnawing on Friend Terry's finger.

"Not yummy. Not food. No bitey," the broodcarrier admonished gently. She looked at Friend Terry. "Teeth owchie ow."

Friend Terry chuckled. "I can tell. He and his egg-mates are all teething. They all sneak up and gum my fingers when they think I'm not looking."

The broodcarrier tickled the underside of the hatchling's jaw and it reflexively let go, opening its mouth to display tiny little teeth just starting to break the gumline. It looked particularly smug as it sat in the broodcarrier's paw, drooling. The broodcarrier held him close and moved away, chiding him for biting Friend Terry.

Nemta was startled at how Friend Terry just shook his head, chuckling to himself.

"It does not bother you?" Nemta asked, slightly offended for some reason.

Friend Terry shook his head again. "Nope. Human children will do the same. Grab your hand and gnaw on your fingers because their teeth are coming in," he smiled and looked at Nemta. "We're really not all that different from one another, Friend Nemta. We all have things in common."

They sat silently for a while in the sun and Nemta found himself dozing off again. When he woke up again, Friend Terry was talking to one of the green mantids. To Nemta, the conversation was weird, all one sided. At one point Friend Terry looked at Nemta.

"In a couple of days, when you're feeling better, 303 and 821 want your help in designing your controls, the bridge, and your command/piloting chair," Friend Terry said.

Nemta nodded, still feeling drowsy and lethargic. The broodcarrier and the two podlings on his chest were all purring. A hatchling was holding onto his fur, little feet kicking as it dreamed, a cuddle was snuggled up to him, holding on with feet and hands, snoring softly.

"I'll leave you to healing," Friend Terry said, standing up and brushing his hands together as if he was wiping away dirt.

Nemta managed not to flinch when he realized just how massive Friend Terry was. The sun gleaming off his bald head seemed almost menacing.

"Shhh," the broodcarrier whispered, fluffing her tail slightly.

Nemta watched as Friend Terry left the courtyard.

He hunts them at night, Nemta thought as he closed his eyes. He teaches them fear.

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

The day was warm, sunshine and warm breezes. Nearly three dozen beings of various races were gathered up, staring, as the little green mantids put the holo-projectors out at carefully measured spacing. Twice the mantids had to chase a little or two that grabbed the holo-projector and ran off with it, giggling to themselves.

Finally it was ready and 821 activated the holograph.

There were oohs and aahs as suddenly there was an empty bridge in front of everyone.

"OK, the seat and the controls are hard light, Nemta. The rest is just normal holograms while we try to figure out how to put everything," Friend Terry said. "First of all, are you more comfortable with a crash couch, a command chair, or a clamshell?"

Nemta watched as the chair in the rear center of the 'bridge' went through each type of chair for Nemta to sit in.

"Crash couch with the controls to my sides and in front if I will be piloting," Nemta said.

Bit by bit the mantids went through the various options, placing things where Nemta wanted them. Astrogration and Navigation to his right, sensors in front of him, communications on his left.

"It's been standard like that for millions of years," Nemta said.

The others all nodded, agreeing with Nemta. That was the configuration that they'd seen all their lives on the Tri-Vid.

Friend Terry walked around the 'bridge', looking around. "Hmm, no engineering, no DCC, no master gunnery, no fire control."

"We are not a warship," Mother said softly.

"We need to be armed," Friend Terry said. "We don't know if we'll get jumped by a Precursor or worse."

Mother leaned on her cane and nodded in reluctant agreement.

"I can run weapons and monitor shields," Nemta said. He moved over next to Phreni'ima and sat down, letting her cover his chest with her tail as she embraced him.

"All right. I'll run DCC and 303 and 821 can run engineering," Friend Terry said. He looked down at the two green mantids. "Can you handle that?"

Icons flashed and Friend Terry laughed. "I know, I know. Anxiety, that's all."

"What did they say?" Another Hamaroosa asked.

"They asked me: if I could handle breathing," Friend Terry pointed at 303, "And: if I could handle wandering around going hurr dee hurr and breaking stuff," he pointed at 821.

"How long?" Mother asked, looking at the two mantids and then her wrist bad.

Friend Terry looked at the two mantids. He looked at Mother, who nodded, then everyone else.

"We'll start doing groundside testing tomorrow," Friend Terry said. He looked at everyone. "Once we fix what breaks during the testing, fix the leaks the atmospheric tests reveal..."

He looked at the mantids, who flashed icons.

"Barring anything horrific, we're out of here in three days," Friend Terry said.

You need to make that decision, Friend Nemta. You don't have as much time as you think, Nemta heard Friend Terry's voice in his head.

If I go back, they'll disappear me. If I go to a neutral planet, they'll kill me. If I go to the Confederacy, I'm a traitor.