[ 76 ]

THE QUESTION

Fribby’s glowing red eyes flutter.

I crouch over her.

She’s barely conscious. There’s a massive horrid black smoking burn wound on her chrome-flex wing where she’s taken the full impact of my firestream. It hurts me to even look at it, and I can’t even guess how much pain she must be in.

You can see one long nasty part of the wound where her entire alloy metal bone is showing through the fried silver scales and the bloody flesh underneath. The sight of the wound makes me dry heave, but I force myself to look.

“Fribby! Say something! Please!”

She coughs and a few drops of dark liquid dribble out her beak.

“Got a question for you,” she whispers.

“Sure. Anything.”

She wags her index claw, telling me to lean in closer.

I put my scaly earhole right up to her silver beak.

Feel her hot breath.

“Are we dead?” she whispers.

I yank back and study her.

The robot smiles weakly up at me.

“No, we aren’t dead, chick.”

“Then I have bad news,” groans Fribby.

“What?”

“He’s coming,” she moans. “He’s coming now!”

There’s suddenly a deranged banging at the chamber door.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Crash!

And with that, the chamber door caves in and falls flat against the floor.