She had done this. Her. A deep ache formed in Kira’s heart. Never had she aspired to hurt, to kill. Life was too precious for that. And yet circumstances had forced her to violence, forced her to become a weapon. The Seed also.

Falconi’s voice crackled in her ears. *Kira! Can you hear me? Let us go!*

11.

“Huh?” She looked and saw that the Soft Blade had extended backwards out of the room and used a mat of fibers to glue Falconi, Sparrow, and Itari to the walls on either side of the scorched entrance. Relief flooded Kira. They were alive. The Jellies hadn’t killed them. The Seed hadn’t killed them. She hadn’t killed them.

With a conscious effort, she retracted the fibers and freed Falconi and the others. She could control any one part of the Seed by concentrating, but as soon as her attention drifted, the part would begin to move and act as the xeno deemed fit. The flood of so much sensory information combined with the shock of her injury left her dazed, light-headed.

*Good god,* said Falconi as he jetted through a patch of viscera on his way to her.

*Don’t think god had anything to do with this,* said Sparrow.

Stopping next to her, Falconi gave Kira a concerned look through his visor. *You okay?*

“Yeah, I just … I—” She didn’t want to, but she looked down at herself again.

Her waist appeared normal. Shapeless and thick as a barrel, because of the suit, but showing no sign of injury. It felt normal too. She took a breath, tried flexing her abs. The muscles worked, but they seemed off, mis-strung piano wires that sounded oddly when struck.

*Can you keep going?* Sparrow asked. She kept her weapons trained on the far doorway.

“Think so.” Kira knew she’d have to let Vishal look her over if they made it off the Hierophant. The main problem wasn’t her muscles (those could be fixed), it was infection. Her intestines had been perforated. Unless the Seed could tell the difference between good and bad bacteria, or good bacteria in a bad place, she was going to end up with sepsis, and fast.

Well, maybe the xeno could. She had more faith in it than she used to. She’d just have to hope for the best, and if she was lucky, she wouldn’t pass out from shock.

Kira retracted some of the suit, freeing her arms. She tapped Falconi’s breastplate. “You have any antibiotics in there?”

He held up a hand, and a small needle popped out of the index finger of his exo. At her command, the Soft Blade exposed a patch of skin on her shoulder; the touch of the air was hot.

The needle stung as it broke her skin, and the antibiotics burned as they forced their way into her delt. Apparently the Soft Blade didn’t consider the injection important enough to block the pain.

“Ouch,” Kira said.

Falconi’s lips twitched in an approximation of a smile. *That’s enough to keep an elephant on its feet. Should work for you.*