Orion has his back to Wayta as she finishes zipping up a space suit, Nicholas's clothes lying in a heap at her feet.

"I'm decent now," Wayta calls out in a sing-song voice.

"You better not be lying again," Orion growls, his back rigid as he slowly turns to face her.

She poses like a spacewear model. "So, you going to let me out, hotshot?"

He narrows his eyes, as if second-guessing himself. "Maybe not. I'd probably be safer out there alone without the danger of you snipping my space line."

My neurons hiss at the thought. I would never let such a thing take place. In fact, perhaps I should snip her space line instead...

"Now why would I pull such a stunt like that? You're too pretty to die."

Wayta, on the other hand, is quite the opposite. Snipping her space line would actually be a very effective way to remove her from my ship and Orion's heart simultaneously.

I begin to analyze a series of events that will take care of forty-nine percent of my problems.

"Alicia Ivy, he's been prepped."

Canceling my secondary hologram, I return my full focus to the medical bay.

Rose purses her lips, looking almost as ashen as our patient is becoming. "He isn't responding to anything."

"That's what can be expected," I tell her. "And it will help the surgery to go more smoothly."

She still looks unsure, but Rose nods anyway. At least her bedside manner that she programmed into her mind will carry her through this difficult surgery, along with all the training others programmed into her.

Approaching the patient, I analyze his blood levels one more time. There are still signs that his body is rejecting its new additions. But the unrest seems to be focused around where his metallic arm is attached to the rest of his body.

"Is there something different about his arm compared to the rest of his body?" I ask.

"I don't know. Maybe. We made it from a different shipment."

"We may have to remove only this arm."

Rose purses her lips. "Well, that's some good news, at least."

I don't answer, since Rose does not seem to think one is necessary, so I take out a surgical blade.

"Wait!" Reverend Shipping yells.

Freezing my physical manifestation, I send a hologram to the cockpit. "What is the emergency, Reverend?"

He swipes a glean of sweat off his brow. "Sorry. I just wanted to get to you before you began the surgery. But there seems to be a complication in the room where your two cops are occupying."

"What kind of problem?"

"The woman- Officer Killa, I think- is trying to open the door, but it won't budge. I've tried opening it from here, but something must be wrong in the system. Officer Killa is also displaying symptoms of becoming short of breath, and her companion hasn't awakened yet."

"The oxygen is already fading," I say.

"What do I do?"

"Go to her. She'll need your assistance to carry Nicholas here to the medic bay where the oxygen will last the longest."

Reverend Shipping wipes his hands on his pants. "Are you sure the captain will be all right alone with the prisoner?"

"He'll have to be. You need to act quickly, before Killa collapses and you have to choose to save only one."

Not that I could ever let that possibility come into play, but even as I say those words, I feel the loss of my omnipotence on this ship.

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