--
"Well, can you fight?"
"Can you?"
"No," said Thalcu with a sad laugh. "Zonbiri women aren't allowed to handle anything bigger than a butter knife. Not legally, anyway. Besides, I could never shoot a gun. My hands are used to pushing remote control buttons, pounding game controllers . . . picking the good chips from the bag."
-
Quinn scowled up at Zita. "Guard the truck?" she repeated indignantly. "Zita, I'm not four anymore!"
"You'll always be four to me," Zita said softly.
-
The woman smiled gently at Quinn, her lips curling behind her oxygen mask. "I will not really die," she said, drawing Quinn's surprised gaze. She looked at Quinn contently a moment and went on, "Do you know how worlds are born? From the first breath of a star. We are made of starlight. We can not bear to look into the sun, into the thing that birthed us, anymore than we can bear to look upon our parents in the throes of passion. It is our point of origin, and to it, we must all return."
-
Zita shrugged. "I wouldn't hold it against ya, kid. You're asking if you should choose war or love. Hate is easy, everybody does it. But most people go their entire lives without really loving. Miora's gonna tell you that you can't love Thalcu because she's zonbiri, but if it's really love . . . you won't be able to help yourself." Zita smiled and went out.
-
"I think I stepped in crap," Quinn answered somewhere to the right.
Thalcu's nose wrinkled when the sudden stink slapped her face: trokian poop. "Oh! It's bad enough we're going to die. Do we have to die covered in trok poo as well?"
"I have every intention of living covered in trok poo, thank you very much," said Quinn at once.
"You won't be living near me then."
-
"HALT. WE ARE ATTEMPTING. AN ARREST," said the cyborg.
"We're aware," Quinn muttered under her breath.
-
Quinn tensed at the triumphant look in his eyes. ". . . What have you done?"
"I have entered launch codes in the computer. In exactly ten minutes, Alpha Star 9 will be a black stain in the middle of Utah."
Quinn's lips part in shock.
"Yes," said. Dr. Zorgone in amusement. "Dramatic gasp!"
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