Andie sank to the sand next to Oliver, his beautiful face frozen in shock and determination. She caressed his cheeks and ran her thumb across the golden-brown stubble along his Greek-godlike angular jaw. She kissed it, the inception of a beard prickly against her lips. Fat teardrops leaked onto his chest where the blast from Cyra's laser had torn away an exploding sun-shaped hole in the fabric of his spacesuit. Blue blood stained the fabric.

A large orange "bird," more pterodactyl than pelican, screeched overhead. Other than the strange bird, the beach was dead—void of life forms. Except for Cyra and Emerson, who barely qualified as life forms.

Andie glared at Cyra. "What have you done?"

The laser slipped from Cyra's claws and landed with a muted thud in the sand. "My son," Cyra cried. "You have killed him, vile human scum." Cyra fell to her knees on the opposite side of Oliver and reached for Andie's neck. "That blast was for you. Now I will terminate you with my bare hands."

She shoved Cyra away just as a high-voltage blast of Neuronic Energy zipped from Andie's fingers. The witch flew twenty feet down the strand and crash-landed on a pile of puce-colored seaweed.

Emerson ignored Cyra's struggle to untangle herself from the gooey mass, instead kneeling next to his son. He pushed a lock of hair away from Oliver's face and looked up at Andie. His lower jaw quivered and his gaze was distant and empty. Andie's gut twisted. "My son," Emerson whispered. Andie tried to swallow the lump in her throat. Was it her fault? Did her actions drive Cyra to such insanity?

"I am so sorry, Captain Lieder," said Andie. "I loved him too."

"He is gone?" Emerson asked, as if making the declaration was too final to endure.

Cyra extricated herself from the tangle of seaweed. "Because of her," she spat. She kicked up sand as she stumbled toward them in her preposterous heels. Sterling, no Cyra's metallic locks, had electrified into burnt wires, and the whites of her eyes glowed ice blue. "The laser is right there next to your foot. Kill her, Emerson. But don't shoot her in the head. We must perform an autopsy. I want to know how a human could tap into the Neuronic Energy."

They wanted to dissect her brain? Oliver's perfect, beautiful body lay lifeless before her. Her instinct was to lie down next to him and die. It would be so easy. She could not go on without Oliver.

"Emerson! Now! We have a timeframe here."

Emerson turned and grimaced at the laser. The laser that had killed his son. He made no move to pick it up.

Andie's heart tore into slivers—like an old bank statement run through a shredding machine. Andie held her breath, waiting for Bad Andie to make fun of her metaphor, but there was no reply. She was truly alone.

"Oh, come on!" Bad Andie cried. "I was having a moment. Disembodied inner voices need time to grieve as well. And I'm never leaving you. Never. But honestly, you need to buck up and get us the hell out of here. This place is giving me the creeps. Can't we just get Sterling and go home?"

Cyra thrust her hands on her perfect Sterling hips and stamped her foot. "My darling husband. We have to get back to the ship before ..."

Bad Andie was right. Andie couldn't just die. She had work to do. Sterling was close. Andie could feel it on her best-friend radar. Plus, Andie could not stand the thought of Rachel's face matching the horror on Captain Leider's when he lost his son. And on top of all that, the insidious Star Enquirer had to be stopped, and Andie was the only person in the universe who could end the Amu plot. And she knew exactly how to end their reign of celebrity terror. "Before what, you evil bitch?" Andie said.

Sharpened by the need for vengeance, a shock-wave of power surged through Andie's nervous system. Blue lightning bolts sparked from her fingertips. She closed her eyes and swallowed, trying to control her rage. "Captain, killing me will not bring Oliver back."

"Do not listen to her, Emerson."

Cyra took a step backward. "Look, you evil, conniving, ice queen witch," Andie snarled as she rose and met Cyra/Sterling's creepy eyes. No way could Andie allow such evil to live in Sterling's body. "You killed your own child, and for what? So you could live out your sorry existence as someone else? So people will look up to you? Admire you? Treasure you? Adore you? Well, I will tell you that no amount of beauty or talent will ever fill the ugly void in your soul. I don't know where Oliver came up with a heart and a conscience, but it wasn't from you. Now get out of my fucking way. I have a best friend to rescue. And while you're at it, leave Sterling's body. You sicken me."

"Bravo!" Bad Andie said.

"Oh, so now you are the big, brave human? What, give you a spacesuit and a few kilowatts of Neuronic Energy, and you are going to take down the Amu Empire? It will not happen, human. You are weak, as is your entire race. Always looking for the answer somewhere else. Your lives are so miserable, you must read dirty little tabloids to feel alive. You're the ones who pay a fortune to companies like ours who divulge the darkest and deepest secrets of people better than you. More famous. Richer. More beautiful. Anything to lift you out of your shabby gray existence. We are only filling a human need—the need to idolize something bigger than your own sorry selves. We do not force anyone to buy our product or pay homage to our celebrity replicants. You do so willingly. You love it, as a matter of fact. The only difference between the Amu and our readership is that they can only fantasize about what it would be like to live like the rich and famous, and we can do it. So do not get on your high pony."

"Horse!" Andie screamed. "High horse!"

"Whatever! Know that you killed my son—by not leaving well enough alone. I warned you. No fraternization, remember? Repeatedly. But. You. Would. Not. Listen."

"Look, I know you're going even more ape-shit now because of what YOU just did to your own flesh and blood. Oliver was a great man. Just the fact that he existed means there's hope for your race. Maybe more Amu like him will come out of your genetic gobbledygook. But for now, you are worse than useless."

"You can believe what you want," Cyra said. "I wonder sometimes if I should have even brought you to the Star Enquirer."

Andie narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean, 'brought me? I saw the ad. I called you."

Cyra laughed. "You are so naïve, Andromeda. You believe you came to the interview by chance? No little human. It was all carefully planned. I had to have Sterling. You helped me get her."

"Liar," Andie said.

"You know it's true. And Oliver knew about it from the beginning. All of it."

"No," Andie whispered.

"We used you to get close to Sterling. You did everything you were supposed to until you went rogue on me. Did you think our company would pay someone with your work history three times her previous salary? Why would we hire someone with your tainted past? Which, by the way, was very fun to taint."

"What?"

Cyra puffed out Sterling's perfect chest. "I know. I am so clever. Your last boss was an Amu operative. All too easy. You were so quick to think your reputation had been ruined, you barely even tried to find another job. It almost made it no fun. Like ruining your father."

"What about my father?"

"Never mind. All water under the viaduct."

Andie gritted her teeth. "Bridge. Water under the bridge."

"Whatever."

"What did you do to my father?"

"I was going through a studio executive phase, but I would rather not talk about it." Emerson raised an eyebrow at Cyra, who averted her gaze, but said nothing to her husband. "What I will tell you is that you played right into my hands. At first," she sneered." Getting the inside information on Sterling's 'procedure' was just what I needed to send her off. I should thank you for all your help."

Andie swallowed the lump that had grown in her throat. She had been so gullible. And Oliver, it seemed, had known from the beginning. But he had tried his best not to hire Andie. Andie had been so hurt, but now she saw he was trying to protect her—all along. And because of her stubbornness, pride, and the need to restore her reputation, she had practically handed Sterling over to Cyra on a ... well ... sterling platter.

Andie exhaled. "You're right. I'm just as bad as you. And now Oliver is dead."

"Oh, do not fret," said Cyra. "We will regenerate him from the gene bath."

Andie clenched her fists. "Pool, gene pool. Wait. Did you say regenerate?"

"Oh, you and your precision. And yes. Regenerate. Maybe Oliver 2.0 will be more cooperative. I do not know how we went so wrong with this version. It must be from your side of the family, Emerson. All that royal inbreeding. Can you please shoot her? Now!" She looked up and bit her lip. Cyra was uneasy. Andie followed Cyra's gaze toward the cloudless sky beneath double orange suns. She wanted to leave before something happened. Something that would come from above.

Inbreeding reminded Andie of the Zuts. "Wait," Andie said.

"What is it, human? Say it fast, I must return to the ship and execute damage control for the Joining you ruined," said Cyra.

"Please, don't take this out on the Zuts."

"I am afraid they will have to go. I cannot have anyone tainted by your presence at the company. And they've been a sticker in our side ever since you came. Demanding good ventilation, better lighting, and the entire line of Oxo kitchen implements."

Andie had only one bargaining chip left, and she hoped it would be enough. She grabbed the laser, still sitting beside Emerson, and pointed it at her own head. "Promise me you will not hurt the Zuts, or my brain will be, um, permanently unavailable for research. And let me say goodbye to Sterling. Allow me to die knowing she is all right."

Emerson held up a hand. "Cyra, stop this. Enough. I have spent my entire adult life trying to please your every whim, and now you have destroyed the only person I have ever truly loved, my son. I never dreamed you would take your ambition this far. You are empty, just as Andromeda said. Even now that you have Sterling's life, you are still not happy."

Cyra rolled her eyes. "That is ..."

"No, be quiet. It is my turn. We are going to return to the ship where you will be regenerated."

"Over my dead body," Cyra sneered.

Emerson shook his head. "I am hoping Cyra 3.0 will be an improvement. The first two both went insane."

"What? This is ridiculous. I am the only Cyra."

"Not at all, my dear. You are a composition of all my desires. I suppose this means some of my desires are perverse. I will compensate for this in the next iteration."

"So she won't keep Sterling's body?" Andie said.

"No, she will be reissued her previous form, as it is my favorite."

A wave of relief and revulsion washed over Andie. She even felt sorry for Cyra. A real Stepford wife. Well, if the Stepford wives had been bossy, manipulative, homicidal shrews.

"You will accompany us as we take my son's body back to the ship. I will see that you receive safe transport back to earth. I'm afraid we will have to delete some of your memories. Standard operating procedure. Not to worry, though. Most of the IRS agents didn't suffer any lasting damage."

On her first day at the Star Enquirer, Lilith, the receptionist, had asked if the IRS agent should have the "usual" treatment. Emerson wasn't joking. They would wipe her mind and she would have no memory of Oliver. She wouldn't know what had become of Sterling. And she wouldn't remember anything about the Amu. They would continue their evil plot on earth.

"That will not happen," Andie said in a low, dangerous tone. Electricity prickled along her eyeballs and bolts of blue light flashed.

A loud buzzing sound came from above, followed by the appearance of a ten-foot-high metallic jellyfish flying toward them, tentacles dragging on the sand.

"Quick, let's get out of here," Cyra cried. "It's a drone! We will be in violation of the contract!"

Emerson reached for Oliver. Andie's Neuronic power buzzed inside her body and exploded outward, encapsulating both her and Oliver in a blue storm of light. Emerson's eyes grew wide, and he hesitated.

"Emerson! Just leave them."

Emerson and Cyra hurtled toward the ship. As they made it inside, the ramp folded upward, shutting on one of the drone's tentacles.

In seconds, both the ship and the ensnared drone were a slash of black on the horizon.

Andie's electrical storm subsided. She dropped to the sand and knelt beside Oliver, sobbing. Steam rose wherever her tears fell on his dear face. "Oh, Oliver, I am so sorry."

A gurgling sound sputtered from Oliver's body. "Oliver," she cried, not breathing. Scared if she did, it would turn out the sound was only something she imagined. It wasn't possible that he survived that blast. "Oliver, are you alive?" The hole in his magical space suit knitted itself back together. "Oliver, speak to me, please. Oh, my god."

Oliver coughed, then said in the raspiest of whispers: "I am not a god."

Andie twined her trembling fingers in Oliver's silky hair. She buried her head against his chest and bawled.

"You're disappointed then?" Oliver said.

Andie pulled back, wiping her tears. "Disappointed?"

Oliver grinned. "That I'm alive. You're crying."

"I take it back," Andie said, smiling back at him. "You're not a god; you're a fool."

"I may be a fool, but you, my love, are a goddess." He reached up and caressed her face, then ever so gently, he pulled her close and pressed his lips to hers.