I picked my way through the living room, which was settling down as the gobbs all returned from their vantage points at the various windows. Many of them were gulping at their bottles of d’jhz and talking in their own language. The big gobb scowled at me, and several of the gobbs around him chattered quietly while staring. I shook my head and ignored them, then walked into the kitchen.

Molls was there, with Rayna patching her up. The Hobb knelt at the stairs, applying a line of sizzling foam to the Nah’gh priest’s body from a dispenser with a plunger at its back. Molls was breathing in relief and when I entered, her eyes went wide and she looked away, scales flushed a soft pink.

They had changed, I realized, looking at them. Where before Molls had a pink outline to her scales, it was now layered pink and red. A new layer of dark red stayed present on top of the pink when her scales would flush with color, or when she was her natural pearlescent white resting state.

I pulled my helmet off and she looked at me again, furtively. Dirt and blood was smeared on my face, and I bent to the sink to wash it off. It felt amazing, and I made another mental note to figure out how Mr. Sada had water and power while the rest of us were cut off.

If I ever got a second to breathe, that was.

It was nearly ten o'clock at night, and I was exhausted. The adrenaline was wearing off, and I was starting to crash hard.

The air conditioning had been off all day, so the house was warm to me, even shirtless as I was, but Molls was shivering. I stopped on my way to the basement and looked at her. She didn’t meet my eyes. “I’ll find you something warmer, Molls.”

WINTER CLOTHING AT ITS BEST! THE HOTTEST HOT, PERFECT FOR A COLD, COLD DAY. WARNING: MAGMA WEAR IS NOT FOR USE BY ALL SPECIES. PROLONGED USE OF MAGMA WEAR MAY CAUSE ISSUES WITH FERTILITY IN GONAD-BEARING SPECIES. USE MAGMA WEAR RESPONSIBLY. 3000 MORTIES, 3.3 STARS.

I tactfully waved the ad away with a single finger. I was getting better at this as time went on. Molls blinked a handful of times and lowered her head.

“Thank you Tyson. I would appreciate that.”

Before I closed the door behind myself I heard her say my name again and leaned back to meet her eyes. “The church has accepted my registration at your encampment officially. Happy Trails is flagged as church affiliated, systemwide. The Dearth Conglomerate won’t attack again.” I nodded and tried to smile, turning back to the stairs.

Mr. Sada was fine. He and Hord had locked the basement door to keep out sneaky gobbs, but otherwise hadn’t been disturbed by our problems outside. That was yet another key I had I really didn’t think he was aware of.

When I descended the stairs, Mr. Sada was laying on his stomach, dangling over the wrong side of the mattress and staring at his TV with a small smile on his face.

On screen I saw that there had been intense fighting up north, the blue screen behind the male nah’gh and female orc correspondent resplendent with mounties grappling with orcs while laser fire, plasma beams and good ol-fashioned rifles blew people into bloody corpses.

“The Battle of Sticky Syrup rages on as Canadian forces under proclaimed General Winston Henry continue their defense against a force of mordrens who have united and arrayed themselves against the men. The national syrup reserve happens to be within the same compound the remaining Canadian government sheltered in, and when the mordren attack force descended upon them, it became a full scale conflict in seconds."

An explosion showed on screen, a vat spraying forth viscous brown foam and liquid.

"The scattered military and police forces are under tremendous threat as the giant beasts appear to have developed an addiction to the syrup and are not backing down despite massive casualties to both sides of the fight.” The orc woman recited mechanically, her speech clearly read to her on teleprompter.

The nah’gh host leaned forward toward the camera, his facial scales framing his snarling grin in a way that reminded me of the devil himself. “What a wildly inappropriate name for such slaughter. Nu-Earth is so refreshingly aggressive. Delightful! Over to you, Barbara.”

Mr. Sada’s legs were bent at the knee, and his be-socked feet swayed lightly in the air. A glass of wine was beside him on the concrete. Hord was asleep in a chair beside the d’jhz pallets. Doofus was flopped out on the concrete beside him, blissfully snoring.

Mr. Sada noticed me and waved. “Hey, Tyson! How’d it go?” Hord jerked awake with a snort, before settling back with a deep breath. I wondered briefly what Mr. Sada paid him. Probably not enough.

“We won. We’re part of the church of BuyMort officially now, as a domicile for one of their priests. That gives us some protection, at least for now.”

I sat heavily on the bottom step and rested my elbows on my knees. Doofus plodded over and flopped onto my foot with his lower jaw, looking up at me mournfully through the top of his head and bunched up wrinkles. I couldn’t help but pet him and smile a little.

“We owe this church anything?” Mr. Sada gently kicked the air with his legs, as he took a delicate sip from his wineglass.

“I honestly don’t know. It feels like because Molls is a member, and she lives here, this place is now listed as a church residence. That means other factions won’t fuck with it, I think the church is big shit.” I sighed and hung my head. “Don’t have a very clear picture of it all, boss. Just kind of scrambling to keep up at this point.”

Mr. Sada nodded, swishing his latest wine around before swallowing it noisily. “You need a break, Tyson. Why don’t you crash here tonight?”

He turned back to his screen and wine and started moving his shoulders slightly with some dance number happening on the screen. Mr. Sada was a big fan of those overinflated talent shows, especially those where people sang or danced, and it looked like he had found an interdimensional version to enjoy on his psychic TV. I wondered how much that package cost a month.

After a couple of moments where Mr. Sada strictly reacted to his TV screen, I realized I had been dismissed and stood to leave. Doofus noticed too, and slipped out, shoving his way past me.

As I tread heavily up the stairs, Mr. Sada shouted a cheerful goodnight and Hord startled awake again.

I grunted and left the basement, locking the door behind myself. Molls was gone, but I knew where to look for her. Doofus slipped away upstairs, and I figured he’d crash in Mr. Sada’s guest room. He liked to hide in there sometimes when he was stressed. Before going to look for either, I decided to check in on what Rayna was doing.

The hobbs were gathered around, various parts of them bandaged or obviously bruised. The fight against the mordren had ensured that most of them took some portion of the beating, but these hobbs were pretty tough.

They were also cheerful, which confused me until I spoke to Rayna. She was working on the mordren. One arm was in a sling already, his elbow and shoulder put back in place.

Rayna was trying to affix a scanning device to the creature’s hand, but it recoiled involuntarily and hid the injured limb. As I approached, Rayna stood with a grunt and turned away, frowning. She noticed me and lifted her chin in greeting.

“Boss. Good. Mordren hurt bad. Needs doctor. Eye repair, scalp reattachment. Can’t scan hand, but sure it crushed. More than what I can do.” Rayna raised her lip and shook her head. “Need mordren doctor too, not cheap.”

I stared at the ground for a few silent seconds, then intentionally activated BuyMort. Immediately I was faced with a snarling mordren in full armor, a gleaming badge peaking above the brow of his helm and a speech bubble pouring out from his mouth.

“USE YOUR HEAD MORDREN – GET THE BEST. GET MORDHEALTH. BONE REGENERATION SPECIALISTS. PRETTY GOOD AT BLEEDOUTS TOO. PRICES PATIENT DEPENDENT, WE ACCEPT AFFILIATED PERK INSURANCE ON A CASE-BY-CASE BASIS.”

A sort of ticker ran along the bottom in black background with white lettering. “Medical specialists for hire, all areas, all dimensions. Mordren certified.”

I clicked on it and the screen swarmed over me like it had before with Clippy. But now I was standing in a medical bay, filled with bloody screaming mordrens.

“PREMIUM CARE BY PREMIUM DOCTORS. MORDHEALTH CARES.”

I was tired and unthinking. I rolled through the throbbing and pulsing squares, each one of the patients clearly demonstrating some sort of horrid wound or illness, and when I saw a mordren who’d apparently been hit by a train I stopped.

“That one,” I told him. I briefly wondered if I’d said the words out loud or if they had remained in my head. A price flashed and I paid the exorbitant fee without really registering how much it was. Most of my remaining fortune from Spider City went into a hired doctor contract. I had just under fourteen hundred morties remaining, but it just didn’t register as important.

I just needed to help this broken person in front of me. This person I had broken. I couldn’t get the look on Molls face out of my head. The way her voice shook when she begged me to stop hurting him.

A BuyMort pod shimmered into existence with a violent blink. Scorched ozone wafted by me as the pod found a clear space in the yard, projected an outline to back away from, and then warped in our doctor, and his entourage.

I was surprised. He was a human! The man had a long white coat and wore some kind of goggles on his forehead, with bulging, colorful lenses. He also held up a small chunk of glass that projected lights and tapped at it while pointing the device at me.

He approached, but his guard got to me first. A Nah’gh man wearing familiar composite armor and carrying a high tech looking rifle was suddenly in my face. He slithered in a circle around me and then moved to block the doctor with a beefy arm. I checked his tail and noticed that he, too, was significantly shorter than Molls.

“Careful Doc, he’s wearing some kind of weapon.” The snake man fixed me with an untrusting glare, but the doctor frowned and showed him the chunk of glass.

“That’s the client, Tohl. It’s fine. See if you can’t find me the patient, huh? I’ll be fine, I know this world. Kind of.” The man smiled at me as he walked the last few steps. “Hi there. I’m doctor Julian Miles, at your service. Where’re our patients, I read the file as non-critical?”

I nodded and pointed behind him, to where his guards were moving the hobb squad back and policing their weapons. They gave them up willingly, the contract had stipulated relinquishing temporary control of all weaponry. His other guard was also human but dressed in the same composite armor our aggressive priest’s friends wore. He was pointing at Rayna’s hobbs, making them back up further.

“Hey, some of those hobbs are patients,” I said.

He raised an eyebrow and looked at me. “Really? Hobbs?” His lower lip jutted out. “Alright, your money to waste. Who’s worst off? The mordren?”

I flinched but nodded with a scowl. “Yeah, the mordren. He’s having some kind of shock reaction, I don’t know.”

Dr. Miles scowled at that and turned, moving at a quick pace to the downed mordren. His bodyguards expertly parted and allowed him access. They had set up a small tackle box of medical supplies, and as I watched, he knelt at the mordren’s head and braced his forehead with one hand to look into his eye.

“Can you hear me? My name is Doctor Miles.” He lowered his goggles and focused on the bloody closed eye. “I am a non-combatant doctor, called here to help you. Do I have your consent to treat your wounds? Answer quick buddy, this is pretty bad.”

The mordren croaked something, and Dr. Miles clapped his hands and dug a large syringe from his coat pocket.

“This is a general anesthetic, powerful enough to work on your system. You’re going to feel sleepy.”

He injected the mordren between two armor plates on his neck. Even with the large, sharp needle, it was an effort for him to manage.

“Honestly, you should go with it. Better off not being awake for what I have to do to fix that hand.”

As he looked down at the limb and tenderly touched the wrist above it, his goggles shifted in hue, and projected a soft light onto the hand. I could see the bones beneath the surface, as the light made the flesh translucent where it shined. His hand was crushed. Dozens of breaks, many of the bones were ground into fragments.

Dr. Miles looked to his human guard. He knelt on the ground next to the mordren and coughed lightly. “Dry here, we in a desert or something? Hey, Franky? Can you call for the mobile adjustment unit and get it set up? I want to check this sling work here.” He pointed at the other arm, wrapped in a sling after Rayna had tried to help. As he crouch-walked around the mordren’s shoulders, his goggles shifted again, and a different shade of the same color began to project. This time the mordren’s muscle and ligature was displayed, along with joint seating.

“Ahhh, this is good work. See here? The elbow ligature was torn in the dislocation, but the joint was seated back in place without causing further damage from the elbow spine. Who did this? He’ll need surgery to ever use the arm again, but this is a very good start at immobilizing the injury. Mordren are notorious for reinjury on dislocation settings.”

Rayna raised a hand. “Yes. Mordren joints sharp inside. Have to move just so, or they cut themselves.”

Dr. Miles grinned. He checked his now snoring patient by moving the mordren’s sharp toothed muzzle back and forth casually. “Wanna assist? I’ll teach you a whole bunch more.”

Rayna stepped forward immediately. “Yes!” She eagerly moved to his side and the two began an in-depth discussion of mordren anatomy while providing medical aid to the one I had beaten half to death.

I know he had been trying to kill us. He hurt Phyllis and Molls both, right in front of me. But I couldn’t stop thinking about the end of our fight. After I kicked him, I was pretty sure the fight went out of him. That last tug was him trying to get away, I was sure of it. I remembered his legs kicking feebly at the sand. I was just slaying a monster, but he was a person, and he had been beaten. After that, while he was only trying to get away from me, I wrenched both his elbow and shoulder out of the socket and crippled him for life, if he was anything like humans when it came to ligature.

I didn’t have to hurt him as badly as I did, and that mattered. My head hanging again, I turned away and left as I heard Dr. Miles ask how the mordren had gotten injured.

On my way in the house, I grabbed my leather jacket off the kitchen counter and slung it around my shoulders. I needed to find Molls a blanket. The first place I checked was Mr. Sada’s linen closet. His laundry service picked up and delivered, and left his bedclothes bundled into neat little paper-wrapped packages on a white painted wire frame shelving system. It was a swanky service.

SWANK’S LAUNDRY SERVICE - NOT ONLY DO WE DO THE DIRTY WORK, WE DELIVER!

I had to grin at the ad. Good to see they were still alive and kicking in this world gone sideways. I found two comforters and a giant fluffy duvet, in tightly wrapped packages tied in colored string with hand-written notes identifying them. It was like shopping, I totally got why Mr. Sada liked that service. Wonder what happened to them.

With my packages stuffed under an arm, I opened the doorway to the attic and called up. “Molls? It’s Tyson with some blankets.”

Her voice sounded from the window. “Come on up Tyson.”

I climbed the stairs and brought them up after me. “Hi. Sorry, took me a while to get everything squared away.”

She shook her head and looked back out the window. The shining moonlight made the scales in her hood sparkle silver and reflected in her oversized eyes. “I understand completely. Thank you.”

Molls accepted the larger package from me and eagerly tore into it with her nails. When it was revealed, she held it up appreciatively and then whipped it into the air. Her coils shifted as the large duvet settled on the plywood, and then they shifted again, and she was settling into place on top of it comfortably, a small smile on her lips. “This is nice,” she whispered.

I handed her both blankets and she gratefully twirled them around her shoulders. Her clothing was still covered in stains, but it looked like it had mostly dried. Most of what had hit her was droplet sized or smaller, I guess. Seemed worse in the moment. I looked away as Molls noticed me staring and grimaced. “Sorry, Molls. About your clothes. That’s twice in one day.”

She carefully drew the blankets around her so that the blood stains were no longer showing and smiled gently at me. “I thought you were dying.”

Her eyes cast down, and then she turned back to the window. “Your moon is beautiful. It reminds me of my own.” She was still smiling, but an oversized tear formed in her eye and splashed to the blanket. “It was one of the reasons I chose Earth for my pilgrimage. Arizona was supposed to be warm, arid, and have a good clear view of the night sky.” Another tear fell onto the plywood. “Two out of three isn’t bad, but I was counting on that heat.” Molls lowered her head and closed her eyes against the tears. Still, another formed and fell. “And now I have red in my scales,” she whispered.

My first thought was to leave. I was certain it was my fault. My violence. I had killed two people in front of her, and then beaten another into a whimpering heap. While dressed like a movie psychopath. Then she turned and looked at me, and blinked, before making space beside her by the window. Her coils shuffled slowly to one side of the blanket, and I knelt down beside her to look at the moon.

“What do you mean red in your scales? Are you hurt? I got a doctor, I can go get him.” I rose to one knee, ready to leave if needed, but Molls held out a hand.

“That is kind of you, but no. This cannot be helped by a doctor. It’s just part of being albino for my people,” she said.

“You’re albino?” I asked, one eyebrow raised.

“The Nah’gh version, yes.” Molls sighed and shook her head, looking out the window for a long quiet moment before she continued. “Our emotions color our scales as we age. It’s part of our body chemistry and is considered a severe disability in Nah’gh culture, until outgrown.”

I frowned with a nod. “You can’t help but express your emotions. It’s not fair that the rest of us can hide them.”

Molls nodded, still looking out the window. “Yes. In our first century of life, we slowly gain permanent pigment in our scales through strong emotions.” She held part of her own tail up to look at, and another tear fell. “I was hoping for purple.”

I hesitated but couldn’t say anything else. “I’m sorry, Molls.”

She didn’t respond and wept silently while staring at the color change on her tail. After a few moments, I decided to try and shake her out of it with a joke made in poor taste.

“I thought I was handling this whole situation poorly.” I made a face when she looked over at me with furrowed brow scales. She snorted a laugh.

“You are.” Molls chuckled again and turned back to the window, dropping her tail to coil back beneath the blankets. “But so am I. It’s nothing like what I was expecting.”

I sat quietly for a few seconds before responding. “What is?” She looked over at me and I blinked. “The end of my world?”

Her scales flushed yellow before fading quickly back to a pale white and pink hue with fresh red trim. “This is not the end. It is the beginning. Your admittance to BuyMort is as painful, or not, as your people make it. Most are not this painful.”

That made me think for a long moment. “You’re not wrong, exactly. But I really don’t know if blame is important in the face of this kind of . . . problem. I mean, I haven’t checked the death tolls in a couple minutes, but. . .” The words turned to acid and I bit my tongue. “I have no grounds to moralize on that. I’m sorry.” She stared at me and I sighed. “I just don’t know what to think right now Molls. At first I just wanted it to go away. But now, everything that ran anything is already gone, cause my world was pretty flimsy, being perfectly honest. Gone is gone, and what is, is. I think I’m doing a good job adapting to survive so far, but . . . I’m not required to like it.”

She blinked several times. “What are you saying? That BuyMort is a burden? The cause of your woes?”

I shook my head and shrugged. “I dunno what to tell you Molls. Yes. It feels like evil from my perspective. It came, and now my world is in ruins and I’m fighting for my life every day. I killed-” And then I broke. It wasn’t a sob exactly, but I did choke on the word, just a little bit. An image burned in my mind of Retha’s final expression. My heart raced and I fidgeted.

Molls immediately lowered the blanket and started taking deep, slow breaths. She raised and lowered a hand as she did so, and I focused on matching my breathing to the rhythm her hand presented. It distracted me, and the moment passed. I focused on my breathing for a while, and she happily bundled back up in her blankets.

“You did what you had to, to protect me. That is your job. I understand and respect that.” Molls spoke softly. “I was frightened, and I apologize for my reaction at the time.”

It was my turn to snort. “You have nothing to apologize for Molls. I’m just working on my new reality.”

She burst into tears again, her scales flushing a deep pink. “And I’m supposed to be helping you!” she sobbed.

I turned and gave her a lopsided smile. “What a pair we make, huh?”

Her tears became laughter and she swatted me with her tail through the blanket. “Stop it, I’m new to all of this. Don’t tease me.”

Instantly, I shook my head and widened my eyes. “No way, you’re the reason we’re safe. No disrespect meant, Molls. You saved us tonight by getting that registration.” When she didn’t respond immediately, I leaned over slightly and continued, “not that I fully understand what that means.”

Molls nodded and composed herself, wiping at her eyes with the blanket. “This is now a registered residence of a church affiliate on official church business. Any other companies operating in this area will be informed, and none of them will risk attacking now that the church has us on the books. I am, frankly, stunned at the Dearth Conglomerate’s behavior tonight. They tried to kill you all.”

I shook my head again, slowly this time. “No Molls, they tried to kill you.”

Her scales flushed yellow again briefly, before converting to their resting state. “I do not agree.” She met my eyes, and the yellow flashed quickly again. “If they did, that is significantly worse. I cannot believe that a priest of BuyMort would act in such a manner. We frequent new worlds, as helpers. Not aggressors. Not murderers. I have a meeting scheduled with this Garthrust tomorrow, and I am sure there is an explanation for all of this.”

“Well. Okay.” I nodded and stood. “I ordered a doctor for everyone. He should be by to check on your wounds, and the glass cuts from earlier.”

She looked me in the eyes as I moved to leave, her scales flushed purple. “Oh, thank you. Very kind.”

I nodded, not turning back to face her. “Of course. Goodnight Molls.”