At this, Enola’s head moved as much as it could, as though he was trying to see what Kaveh was doing. “THERE IS NO REASON FOR US TO CONTINUE.”

Kaveh froze mid-motion. “What do you mean?”

“I CANNOT STAY, BUT I HAVE NOWHERE ELSE TO GO. THEREFORE, I HAVE COME HERE TO SEEK OUT MY LAST REMAINING SYMPHYLE, THAT WE MIGHT END OUR LIVES TOGETHER. BUT WHAT I HAVE FOUND, I NEVER COULD HAVE EXPECTED, THAT I AM NOT HIS LAST LIVING SYMPHYLE, BUT HE HAS CREATED ANOTHER. ANOTHER, A NATURAL ALIEN. IMPOSSIBLE, I WOULD HAVE THOUGHT.”

Kaveh paused. “He has created another ‘symphyle’ . . . You mean . . . Cora?”

“MY LITTLE COUSIN, YES. BOUND TO MY DEAR BELOVED, BUT NOT IN A WAY I HAVE EVER SEEN, IN A WAY THAT MAKES THEM BOTH SUFFER. THEY ARE BOUND TO SUFFERING, AND WHEN ONE SUFFERS, SO DOES THE OTHER. I WOULD LIKE TO STUDY THEIR BOND, FOR IT IS NOTHING LIKE I HAVE EVER SEEN.”

“Then you should study it,” said Kaveh. He poured a small amount of water on a paper towel and wiped down Enola’s forearm. Since Enola was as black as the gunk covering him, the only method he had to see if a section was clean was to wipe it with a fresh paper towel and check for residue. “If they consent to it.”

“MY BELOVED IS TERRIFIED OF ME.”

“Well, that’s probably because the first time you saw him, you attacked him. I think some fear is justified. That said, I’ve already noticed a marked change in your behavior, and I’m a ‘natural’ alien that doesn’t even speak your language. Show him that you’re not dangerous, and maybe he’ll let you go.”

“BUT I AM DANGEROUS.”

Kaveh sighed and then moved to Enola’s opposite side to work on the left arm. “When he lets you go,” he said, drenching his sponge in the clean water and wringing it out, “and he has to let you go eventually, I know you’re going to want to go back on the substance that changed you, your ‘medication,’ but I’d like to ask you not to.”

“I WOULD NOT KNOW HOW.”

Kaveh paused, wringing the sponge in front of him. “Your kind don’t have any ways to treat addiction?”

“OUR KIND ARE NOT PRESENTED WITH THE OPPORTUNITY TO BECOME ADDICTED.”

“Then where did your . . . ‘medicine’ come from?”

“I CREATED IT.”

“Oh . . . dear.”

“ONE AMYGDALINE OF THE SUPERORGANISM WOULD NEVER BE ALLOWED TO DEGENERATE AS I HAVE, OR AS MY DEAR BELOVED HAS. HIS DISEASE IS CRITICAL, PERHAPS AS TERRIBLE AS MINE. BUT WE HAVE NO WAY TO TREAT IT. WE ARE NOT EQUIPPED IN THAT SCIENCE, AND EVEN IF WE WERE, THERE ARE NO TREATMENTS FOR THOSE SUCH AS US WHO HAVE DEGENERATED SO MUCH. WE WOULD NOT BE TREATED. WE WOULD BE EUTHANIZED.”