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It's a testament to the sheer inhumanity of my current existence that drinking deeply infected bacteria-rich pus tastes great.

Normally it wouldn't, I think, but I'm making a point to focus on the microbiome, and from that perspective I'm ingesting quite the smorgasbord. Most of it I don't care about, though; I need to break apart and identify this disease, and I need to do it now. Frustratingly, the reality is worse than I thought. One particular strain of bacteria is causing the bulk of the damage, but plenty of others have moved in as well, causing a rapidly-escalating problem. I break them all down into component proteins, frantically searching my memory for the knowledge of something that should be there, that should be absolutely fucking everywhere. I don't have antibiotics, sure. But since I can craft microorganisms, I should have something just as good.

Bacteriophages.

It's an open question whether or not viruses are alive, but my body doesn't seem to care about those semantics: it's still a construction of biological material, so I can still reverse-engineer them. Sure enough, one of my hard-working brains dredges up information that will be useful: a virus that hunts and infects bacteria in the same way these bacteria are trying to infest the cells of Warrior Katrk. These little bastards are like microscopic alien chestbursters, overriding the genetic code of victim cells and forcing them to produce more and more baby bacteria until they literally explode. Well, two can play at that game. Bacteriophages are pretty damn cool because they do this exact thing to a specific kind of bacteria, and only to that specific kind of bacteria. They're actually being developed and tested back on Earth to combat our growing superbug problem, and while I'm not really a medical biologist I think that whole thing is pretty fucking exciting. If I can rapidly develop a series of bacteriophages to combat the diseases in Katrk's body, I should be able to—

"What in Sss' name are you doing!?" Healer Katrs demands, lashing a tendril around my body and pulling me off of Katrk.

My teeth are still around the wound, so the yank pulls a tiny chunk of Katrk's flesh as well as my body. I instinctively swallow it, turning to glare at Katrs with wide-eyed fury as every Evelyn Tinkerbell Enhanced I have in the area returns to functionality and starts zipping this way.

"Let go," I order, digging my tiny bug claws into the tendril around my waist and starting to peel it off of me. Katrs responds by catching me in a claw as well.

"You will not eat my patient like some kind of demon!" Katrs snarls. "You are no longer welcome in my home!"

"I'm not eating him!" I snap. "I can heal him! Let go!"

"He's beyond saving, you foul creature. Let him return to Sss in peace!"

I pump fluid into my limbs, damaging my body for the strength needed to start opening his claws. I don't have time for this religious bullshit. Katrk needs help now.

"Let go," I repeat. "Last warning."

Two seconds later, he still hasn't started to release me so other parts of myself fly straight into his home and slam into him, ganging up to hold him down. My Evelyn Terrestrial bodies—the larger, more digging-focused specialists that I've been using to drag food from the surface down the tunnels to help feed the Resonant Gems—drop what they're doing and start running into the Resonant Gem city for the first time. I've been keeping them secret so as to not spook anybody, but I just don't have any fucking time for that anymore.

While I wrestle with Healer Katrs and various other nearby Sthrenslians that have started to join the melee, I'm still devoting most of my collective brainpower to designing the bacteriophages. I've identified a slew of different kinds of phages that I've ingested recently, and by simulating their function I can create ones built to target the infections inside Warrior Katrk. The problem I'm worried about is mutation. I need to make my phages exceptionally fast and efficient. There are millions, possibly billions, maybe even trillions of harmful bacteria cells inside Katrk during an infection of this scale. If my phages work, they're going to end up even higher in number after the fact, and I have no idea how much genetic drift that's likely to cause now, let alone months or years down the line. Like, literally, I don't know how that works and my crazy super-simulation brain doesn't have anywhere near enough processing power to extrapolate a guess. I'm built around intelligently designing life; the natural process of evolution isn't part of how my body functions in any way. So, you know, something something checkmate atheists, except not actually because I'm obviously a major exception and the more I learn about myself the more convinced I am of philosophical materialism.

I buzz one of my bodies over to Warrior Katrk while the others keep the slowly-growing mob busy, since someone had to yank my teeth out of him and now he's bleeding. I put pressure on the new wound, mentally cursing the healer. The last thing Katrk fucking needs is blood loss on top of everything else!

"Evelyn!" I hear priestess Saslitak shriek. "Evelyn, what are you doing? Stop!"

"Make Katrs stop!" I snap back.

"This one bit my patient!" Katrs protests. "They're all insane!"

More and more Sthrenslians arrive and immediately start peeling my bodies off of Healer Katrs, despite my discordant hisses of frustration. But before anyone can pull me away from my lifesaving duties a second time, they all feel the ETs arrive. With six powerful limbs, an acid-spewing tail, and an upright anatomy alien to anything Sthrenslians have seen before bar me, my tunneling bodies garner a level of fear and respect far beyond anything I'm used to as I thunder into the cave to back myself up. I'm so angry right now. I don't have the spare goddamn brainpower to waste on idiots trying to stop me from saving a life!

"Leave me alone!" I roar with an ET, to the obvious confusion of many Sthrenslians present. Right, the not-a-hive-mind lie.

"We are also of clan Evelyn," I explain. "Katrs has declared Warrior Katrk beyond his ability to save. He's not beyond ours. So step the fuck off, because I am going to save him with or without your permission. I'm not going to let him die!"

"I… Evelyn," Saslitak stammers, addressing one of my smaller bodies. "I don't understand. These are your clanmates?"

"Trust me, Priestess Saslitak," I ask her. "Please?"

There's a pause as everyone seems to wait on the Priestess' decision. Apparently only a chieftain can overrule an order from a priestess. Despite all the time we've spent together over the past twenty-four hours, though, I don't know how she'll react to this. Part of that is just because I'm only dimly aware of the entire conflict. One of my ETEs has a broken arm, two have wings that are now too shattered to fly with… it's not a fight I was winning before my ETs showed up. Yet it's difficult to care much about it when the vast majority of my existence is devoted to the mental war between the fear of creating a deadly super-virus beyond my control vs. the need to save Katrk right now, or else it might be too late.

Perhaps the trick isn't somehow preventing random mutations—because like, how would I even do that—but somehow controlling the outcome. I can control my body's internal functions, and I can even make modifications on the fly. Clearly I'm capable of exerting control over cells somehow, at least as long as those cells are part of me. So come on, you damn stupid brain. Show me how I work.

I tear through knowledge of my own cells, searching for hints. When I try to investigate my antennae cells, though, my thoughts just seem to slide right off of the damn things. There's something worthwhile to see but I can't focus on it! Why? All of my bodies need to have antennae, and I designed all my bodies, so why can't I figure out how they work!? Tara's human bodies never had antennae, so what did she figure out that I haven't? I try to brute force the issue, but focus has never been my strong suit and it doesn't take me long to feel helpless in front of what is clearly an unnatural compulsion on top of my already brutal ADHD.

"Fuck it," I hiss, and reach over with one of my ETEs to bite off another one's antenna.

The Sthrenslians shout in alarm as I shriek in agony, but I render that body unconscious and try to focus on the antennae again now that it's in my mouth. It's just a dense cell cluster of… of something. It's small. Organelle-size at most. There's a ton of them, maybe billions of them, all packed densely into the long stalks poking out of my head. They must send and receive the signals between my body somehow. Will they work if I put them in… hmm. They will. They're already present in some of my cells. I try to create a few bacteria containing the microscopic receptor, though, and I'm gripped with the same terror that attacks me whenever I leave my own corpses lying around. God damnit, instincts, what do you want now!?

"What's happening?" Saslitak squeals. "Why are you doing this? Stop! Everyone, just stop!"

Bodies can't be left behind, no matter how small. Ugh. Can I create some kind of self-disintegration feature into my bodies, triggerable on command or death? Maybe I can keep like… an acid capsule in the communication organelle that will remove any non-elemental trace of it. Hmm, would making a bunch of viruses with tiny drops of acid inside them hurt a Sthrenslian…? No, looks like the acid quantities are so comically microscopic that they'll finish reacting with my organelles long before they can enter the body, at which point they're just useless but perfectly filterable waste product. Good. Great. Now I just need to produce enough of these to overpower the infection! They'll multiply like crazy, but I'll be able to destroy them when their job is done. Frustratingly, I have to step in with a few ETs to hold the Sthrenslians back while I work. It's pretty damn annoying to do so without hurting any of them.

On the subject of pain, I guess I should check up and make sure none of my bodies are dying. Hmm… the aquatic bodies need to take a breath. Borks are fine. Squad Evelyn is fine. None of the injured ETEs are going to bleed out, I keep hearing Hsthressis' mother scream her name but nothing in that area is damaged… I guess we're good. Back to saving lives.

The infection has spread so completely that some bacterial clumps are visible. I'm not going to be able to produce sufficient phage numbers from food stores alone, but that's fine. I'm literally made out of biological material. I start forcing the ETE tending to Warrior Katrk to metabolize itself, creating as much bacteriophage-filled gunk as I can. I'm dimly aware that just dumping it out from between my legs over an open wound would be kind of disgusting, but more importantly it would be an incredibly inefficient method compared to intravenous injection. I open the necessary holes in my organs to pump the biomedical goo up into my mouth so I can push it into smaller punctures that way.

My millions of virus bodies flow into Warrior Katrk's bloodstream, immediately setting out to attack his infection with extreme prejudice. I suppose calling them 'my bodies' is somewhat of an overstatement; viruses are far too simple in structure to do anything beyond following the natural commands built into their protein structure, and my control over them basically amounts to 'activate the kill switch' or 'don't activate the kill switch.' I can feel them with my interbody proprioception, though, allowing me to vaguely track their progress and reproduction rate. The other part of the goop I'm injecting into Katrk is basically an extremely ghetto IV solution, which my mental simulations report as likely to improve his survival rate. It'd be kinda bullshit if I killed all these bacteria just for him to die of dehydration. Which is exactly what I do, now that I've converted most of a body's internal organs into phages and fluid.

My desiccated ETE winks out of my perception as she flops off of Warrior Katrk, stone cold dead. I move the corpse out of the way, taking its place with another body so I can better try and monitor Katrk's condition. Damn it, I wish I had more medical training. All of this bullshit had better fucking work.

I've no way to know other than wait, though, so slowly but surely my adrenaline starts to wind down and my bodies start to be more completely aware of their surroundings, my mental capacity no longer shunted into a single, extra-complicated task.

The Sthrenslians in and around Healer Katrs' hut have finally stopped fighting me, at least, barring the couple aggressively holding the body that ate and swallowed another one of my body's antennae. Katrs is arguing furiously with Priestess Saslitak, whose responses are much more quiet.

"They're bringing in warriors and casting curses in my home, priestess! You must be mad to—"

"We do not know if these are curses or magic, Healer Katrs," Saslitak responds. "As much as they seem gripped by some foul affliction, I—"

"Seem!?" the healer snaps, cutting her off. "You would say they seem to—"

"Katrs," Saslitak says firmly. "You are respected, but do not forget your place."

Clearly seething with fury, he still shuts up. I return to cataloguing the rest of my bodies as they wake up and start stretching, noting with some concern that one of them seems to have gone blind. I stand up and move it around, trying to figure out which… oh fucking hell! I quickly bring Hsthressis back to consciousness, and she yelps in surprise as her mother picks her up in a grateful hug.

"You're moving!" Chlrehistra sobs, or at least performs the tearless alien equivalent. "Oh, Sss' whiskers, you're moving again. You wouldn't wake up, you wouldn't wake up and I thought I'd lost you again…!"

"Wh-what? Huh?" Hsthressis asks with a jolt. "What are you talking about? When did you get here, mom?"

Sorry, I send to her. This is my fault. I accidentally knocked you out.

"What the fuck, Evelyn!?" she sends back. "Are you fucking serious? Again? This isn't goddamn working!"

Yeah. Sorry.

I retreat from her mind to try and not bother her time with her mother any more. God, I'm such a fuckup. Warrior Katrk needs to live…!

"Evelyn?" Priestess Saslitak says quietly. "Er, whichever Evelyn wants to answer. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I say, sighing. "I mean, we're fine."

"One of… um. One of your clan members isn't breathing."

I glance down at where I've left my corpse, its presence always pulsing in the back of my mind with the urge to consume and reclaim it.

"Yeah, I mean, this one's dead," I admit. "But hopefully Katrk will be okay as a result."

Silence. The weight of disbelief and horror is heavy, but I'm officially burnt out, physically and emotionally. I've been awake for nearly forty-eight hours now, I think? Two of however long an Acidsucks day is, anyway. I don't care. I've used up all of my care. I just have to stay awake a bit longer, so I can monitor Katrk's condition until I'm certain he will survive. I'm winning against the infection, but that doesn't necessarily mean he'll heal.

"Evelyn, no," Saslitak whispers. "You have already given us so much. Do not give us the lives of your clanmates. Please. We cannot accept such a tainted gift."

I pick up my dead body, passing it over to an ET so I can walk out of the cave and eat it.

"Don't worry about it," I tell her. "That body is not dead in the way you understand death. We're all still Evelyn. This death is a setback. But Katrs? His death would be a tragedy."

I'm still not the best at reading alien body language, but Saslitak at that moment appeared so fundamentally sad that I couldn't have missed it if I tried.

"You mustn't think of your people that way," she insists.

Heh. That hard-to-translate word again. 'People.' In this case, what she really said was 'you mustn't think of your subordinate Sthrenslians that way,' referring to my other bodies as Sthrenslians because they just don't have another word to use.

"We aren't Sthrenslians," I say firmly. "We're Evelyn. The way we work is very different from the way you work. I just don't really want to explain it. Okay?"

"What? But… why not?"

"Because I just spent two days trying to save this guy's life, got nearly snipped in half by your fucking healer, and then I died again converting my insides into bacterophagic mush! I'm fucking tired, Saslitak! Leave me alone!"

Everyone seems shocked and mildly offended by that outburst. What the fuck did I... ugh, right, I forgot to call her 'Priestess Saslitak.' Well fine, from now on Evelyns are above priestesses in this stupid bullshit caste system they have. I don't give a shit anymore!

"I… I think the chieftain will want to speak with you, Evelyn," Saslitak says.

"I'll talk to him after I rest," I grunt.

"May I ask when that will be?"

I glower at her a bit, though the expression is no doubt lost on her.

"When I'm no longer needed," I decide.

Comments

Anonymous

I wonder if we will get an explanation about how those communication organelles work? It might be cool to have a history of how they came about, I don't think they evolved. But I can also understand if the writer that they exist and not look further.

Saramon H

Loved this chapter. Truly excellent. Transitions from different PoV's were smooth, but the chapter had a clear focus which I liked too. I do think having multiple focuses in each chapter can work though, as long as the transitions flow well. Really enjoyed the chapter.

Anonymous

Something felt a bit off about this one. The conflict, and Evelyn's desperation (and profanity (plus the word "ghetto" which is probably offensive/hurtful in some legitimate readings)) - anyway, it felt a bit staged. Like, where was this desperation when Hsthressis' mom was refusing to give Evelyn even a crumb of lifesaving medicine? (And where was the philosophical discussion of why that was a very wrong position to take on several levels?) Why were the forces so close to balanced in the physical struggle, even over several iterations of new bodies arriving? I guess it feels like the arc of the conflict was the author's choice rather than the natural result of things in the story. If Evelyn had been only slightly more foresighted, she could have brought in her big bodies much earlier and the standoff wouldn't have been such a shitshow all round. Maybe the next chapter depends on this exact shade of brown...?