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After my Ratling thumps against the door of her cabin again, I barely have time to take cover before the girl comes rushing out of the room. She picks up the letter immediately, her eyes scanning across its lines. Near the end, her power flares and the paper collapses into flakes that drift to the floor like snow, and my hiding Ratling twitches in discomfort. Dammit girl, am I going to go through another Ratling every time I interact with you?

It takes her a few minutes — unpleasant minutes where I can feel the Ratling deteriorate further, it's going to be a write-off after this — but she gets herself under control.

"Hi Alexei, I'm Emily! I'm so glad you weren't hurt! Uh, I never met a monster cape, but I saw some of them on the telly. Are you like really scary or gross? Or are you like… like me and… dangerous to people?" She starts off strong, but her voice dips at the last few words.

"Ah anyway, umm… minions? But they can't speak? So… are you like a master then? Do you have a pack of dingoes running around? Oh, um, but they're ugly or scary? Maybe.. diseased dingoes? Or freshies?" I'm not sure what she means by the last one. "Um… I would like to see your minions… if I won't hurt them?"

That's as good as an invitation. Now who to send out… I'm just going to keep the observing Ratling where it is. I'm not sure its muscles could support movement without shredding. So another Ratling… or the Zergling? The first is ugly, and while I made the second a bit more aesthetically pleasing, it's also is very obviously dangerous. Foot long scythes tend to do that.

I send in a Ratling. Ugly is probably better than the obvious weapon of war. Right? I have it thump the exterior door, then push it open.

Emily looks over at the sound and spots the knee high creature slip into the room. I… am honestly expecting to lose both Ratlings as she loses control at seeing the rat-bug mash-up. To my surprise, she doesn't scream or lose control, rather she gets down on her knees and reaches out towards the Ratling. "Oh, it's so cute! Like the neighbors pug, except all alieny!" She kneels down and stretches out her hand in the time-honored tradition of human-meeting-dog.

What? No, it's not. I never found pugs cute though. Also, I don't think 'alieny' is a word. Ratlings don't even have any canine Essence in it! Why are you treating it like one?

"Can I pet it?" She speaks into the air, as if to an invisible observer rather than the Ratling. I suppose there's no way for her to know I am controlling the creature directly. Ah well. I walk towards her slowly. Even if she's taking it surprisingly well, I don't want to startle her. It's almost instinctive to sniff the hand that's reaching out, fulfilling the dog's part in the ancient ritual.

"Aww, who's a cute little alien monster? Who is? You are, yes you are." Her hand brushes against the Ratlings exoskeleton, a she goes through the motions of petting it. It's… I can feel the pressure of her hand on the Ratlings exoskeleton, but not a lot of actual sensation. Even so, it is not… unpleasant. I let her continue for longer than is wise considering any interaction with her is on a clock.

It's a good thing I do too. As time passes with her cooing over the Ratling, her field of effect seems to drop to an all-time low. I can still feel it taking its toll slowly, but it's so slow that the Ratlings regeneration is nearly keeping up with it. Nearly.

Observing the effect and how low Emily's power will go when cuddling a — questionably — cute animal is definitely the only reason I allow her to keep doing so for the next half hour. Of course I have to keep focus on the situation for the same reason, besides she looks like she needs the distraction. Being cuddled and petted by a giant — relative to the Ratling — little girl has nothing to do with it. At all.

I may be just a bit starved for human interaction myself.

Alas, all good things must come to an end. Emily suddenly stiffens when her fingers come away slick with slowly breaking down tissue. The shock breaks her out of the animal induced trance and her power jumps back up to its usual level. "Ohno! Alexei? I'm sorry I got distracted by your minion! It's starting to melt!" She backs away from the Ratling, speaking to the air over its head again.

I came prepared to communicate with her of course. The Ratling uncurls its paw to reveal… the flaked remains of the paper with my pre-written message introducing the Ratlings.

My Ratling dumps the flakes on the ground, and huffs in annoyance.

Emily has gotten up to her feet and is keeping a bit of space between herself and the Ratling. It's a useless gesture, as her field is equally strong everywhere within its range as far as I can tell. "Oh… sorry, of course you'd have it bringing a message, and I got distracted. Quick, you have to get it away before it dies! I'll wait here until it heals."

So innocent… Yes, my Ratlings will heal… but that's because they are zerg-lite, even short exposure would damage the vast majority of natural organisms for life.

Well, I do need to get a new letter. But she's not going back into her room, and I'd like to try and salvage the original observer. Fortunately she is rather quick on the uptake when I herd her towards her door, even if she does complain about why when she already knows about the minions.

Where to move her? The boat really isn't a great place for her to remain. First, it probably has some powerful memories about her recent past. Second, it really is too close to the raiders' side of the river. Third… that burst of her powers activating… I can't be certain, but I am pretty sure it happened when she read about the people that attacked her group being nearby, and knowing what I do about shards seeking conflict? I want to keep her away from the urge to go looking for them.

I am quite impressed with the way she managed to control herself at the moment, focusing on the good things, and suppressing the initial emotional outburst.

Where to move her however, is another matter entirely. She can't be in any building with organic material used in its construction. That removes a lot of houses, as wooden frames would become a death trap. She's rather fortunate the boat she was on was a modern metal hull model just pretending to be wood, else she should have ended up in the water well before I found her.

I send my Ratlings out to search the houses near to my bunker, looking for something with solid stone or brick construction. I'd consider moving her into my bunker, but well… flesh melting powers.

I return to Emily with a new Ratling — having withdrawn the one she met for recovery, and the rescued observer for recycling — carrying a new letter.

Once again I thump her cabin door, though this time I simply let the Ratling step back and wait. Emily is at the door almost immediately. Was she waiting by the door? Probably. I would. She smiles on seeing the Ratling. "Oh, it looks much better already. Can you heal your minions? What are they anyway?"

Girl's just full of questions isn't she. I present the new letter to her.

"Hi Emily, nice to know your name at last. This is a Ratling, one of my minions. They are my eyes and hands while I am indisposed."

"Ratling? How many minions do you have?" She asks after reading the first part, her eyes once again focusing on the space above my head. I really should have mentioned I sometimes directly control them… oh well.

"Would you be willing to move to a better location? I'm looking for a place you would be safe right now, among my other ongoing work."

Her power fluctuates wildly while she reads the next part. She looks around the wrecked interior of the boat, her eyes pausing in the spots where so many people had died. "Yeah, okay, moving away sounds good…"

"Did you notice that your power effect was way down while you were playing with the Ratling earlier? I am hopeful that means you can learn to turn it off entirely given time and the right frame of mind."

"I didn't notice anything! But that's great! Then when I can control my powers, we can meet for real, right?" That brought a smile back to her again, hope that she won't be alone forever.

"As it is, this Ratling will remain with you for a while, try to work on your control, it will leave and swap out with another before it gets harmed too much. - Alexei"

"Umm… are you sure it's safe? I don't want to hurt it again… If it's really alright…"

The Ratling walks forwards, brushing past her leg and into her room as an answer. Writing letters as a way of communication is not ideal when I want to offer her help, but at least the company of a small animal seems to have some benefit. I let the Ratling settle down on the floor to watch over Emily and pull my focus back. I really do have other things to do.

Hydralisks… I'm playing with the idea of using the explosive force generated by the Roach's chemical reaction to propel bone, chitin, or enamel shards. It's still a bit of a heavy cost to have the creatures grow replacement ammunition, but I'll have something workable, eventually.

Considering my successful interactions with Emily, I need to focus on creating an organism that is capable of interacting with humans with more than just growls. The original zerg had Infested Terrans — which I lack the zerg evolutionary virus for — and the shape shifters, what were they called. Mimics or Crawlers or something? It wasn't Genestealers, that's the other exponential bio-alien race.

Being able to take the place of any infantry unit and blend in seamlessly, the perfect spies and infiltrators, that's a lot more useful in reality than in the games. Unfortunately, creating one… maybe a partial hive-mind of single-celled organisms? I've got more than enough Essence of various slime molds, amoeba, and so on…

Or I could take the easy way out, at least in the short term. I push Essence into three Larva. Basic human Essence is simple, easy, boring. I have to restrain myself from getting creative with it beyond the basic improvement, growth rate, and control Essences.

I'll send one out to 'join' the raiders, another to initiate contact with one of the local groups on this side of the river… and one to talk with Emily in person, at least in short bursts until she learns to control her power.

By the time the sky darkens — I will never get tired of seeing the galactic core in all its glory — and Emily falls asleep, the Ratlings had to substitute out eight times. It's not a problem. I've got over fifty of the things running around already, and their incubation period is just a few hours when provided nutrients at full rate. I've recalled all the ones affected by her power and investigated their status directly, to little effect. Whatever her shard is doing to break down organic cells like that, I can't detect it in the survivors or the deceased. Maybe if I prodded her or one of the affected while the effect is occurring…

Another expedition leaves the raider base in the morning, a Ratling spotted them crossing the river. Three heavy vehicles, about twenty humans. Even my Zerglings are more numerous, though not by much. I trail them to make sure they are not heading in my direction, or likely to run across Emily in her exposed location. They aren't, fortunately they seem to be heading upstream this time.

I consider attacking them anyway, it would be a decent test of my organisms. The trucks and possible cape presence however… I've already begun evolving a handful of Larva into my Roach equivalent, but they won't be finished growing for a while yet.

My human clones are done by noon. They rise out of their cocoons covered in wet slime, completely naked, male, and identical. Perfect copies of one another. Focusing in to control a human body feels weird after all this time. Soft and squishy skin, hands that don't end in claws, a tongue and mouth.

If anyone is watching now, they're in for a hell of a sight, as three naked identical men dance around the hatchery, chanting vowels and making random sounds. Fortunately, there are no witnesses, and after a while of enjoying having command of a humanoid form, I send them out on their missions.

Clothes are not hard to get a hold of. Nobody has bothered looting those. Most people focus on food and other survival supplies. I make sure the one intended to head towards Emily gets the artificial material, and grab some extra for her as well.

The river is a good distance away, if I was able to just sprint down the main road I'd be there soon enough, but still trying to stay out of the open — especially during the day — and now I know there's a tracker of some skill around I avoid soft ground too so getting to the boat will take a while.

The raiders expedition is even further, not that I intend to chase them down, rather I head towards the bridge. Their base is a good walk beyond it, but I hope that approaching the base will be a better way to join rather than get captured. If there is a difference. Either way, I will learn something useful. I take my time, stopping at any interesting location on the way to upgrade my gear. A partially burned biker jacket — pulled off the rotting carcase of someone that should have taken remedial lessons in duck and cover — and an axe will do to sell the 'survivor wanting to join the winning side' I hope.

One of the human survivor groups is closest, and it being still only afternoon, so the clone sent that way reaches his goal soon. He picked up a sturdy pole along the way.

For the first time since my initial foray onto the surface, I don't avoid the area of human activity. The group has taken up in what used to be a small hotel, just across the street from a large park. They ripped up the ground in the park and tilled it into rows. I don't see any shoots yet, but the group is obviously settling in for the long haul.

A couple of people are walking around the field, doing… something. Four armed individuals — as much as a collection of construction tools count as weapons — are loitering around on watch. They notice me soon enough, and I head towards them.

Within shouting distance — for them, improved hearing means I can hear them well much further out — I call out. "Friendly!"

"We've heard that one before. We don't know you. Stop where you are! What brings you here, stranger?" calls back one of their number, as three of them start walking in my direction.

I stop and let them approach me. "My group got hit by them bastards across the river. Don't think anyone else made it out." It works for a cover story, right? "Looking for a new place, ain't no city for loners."

They've gotten pretty close by now, when one of the others, a brown heard man wearing an outback hat, grabs the other two. He starts whispering to them, but they are close enough now I that I can hear them. "Whoa mates. Take a good look. I told ya I saw some odd tracks around the place. And that thing there? It's creeping me right out, like it's trying way too hard to look human and not getting it right."

Uh, what? I involuntarily look down at the clone's body. It looks human to me… well, maybe the skin textures a bit off now that I am looking for it and comparing it to trio of armed guards, who are looking increasingly unfriendly. In fact, I notice there are quite a few minor inconsistencies throughout.

Crap, I think I triggered the uncanny valley. Stay and try to talk or run for it… I put down my pole and… how do you show surrender when parahuman powers can make raised arms a threat display? I kneel instead, hands visible but not pointing at anyone or anything as the group approaches, their weapons in hand and at the ready.

At least this group is unlikely to have contact with the outside, and worse comes to worse… my Zerglings will make short work of them. I might still be able to present myself as a Case… crap what was the number. Forty-three?

The clone headed for the bridge turns around and heads back to the bunker. There's no point if the raiders have the same reaction, and they are probably more likely to shoot first and not bother asking.

The clone heading towards Emily pauses, but continues on. Speaking through a closed door is still better than passing a note, and I've found a good solid looking stone and brick building she can stay in that's not too far from my bunker.