The sun's first rays crested the horizon and rushed across the city to meet her. She stood in the shower and sighed, letting the water wash away more than just sweat and dust. Turning her face to the window, she basked in the lifegiving rays and inhaled the rich scent of coffee carrying from the kitchen, grateful for another early riser.

She shut off the water and stood for a moment, hearing her mother say, "Why do you always get the floor wet, child? Dry off first!"

She stepped out and watched the water trickle down her fully scaled legs and lightly tanned ankles to form a puddle on the cold concrete floor. She took a few steps and looked back to see her comforting human footprints.

In front of the full-length mirror, she saw how scales covered her almost completely from head to feet, skipping only the softest of skin tissue. The insides of her arms, her lower abdomen, her neck, inner thighs and groin, palms of her hands, and her face were still human skinned. Where the scales grew, they replaced hair, though she didn't understand how or where the hair had gone. Running her hands along her abdomen, she marveled at how the sensation of touch was nearly the same as if she still had skin.

If she survived, would the scales leave scars? When she returned to normal, that was. Assuming she ever returned to normal, whatever that even meant. She rubbed lanolin on a few places, then dressed in her clean, dry clothes. Finally, she combed her hair and dabbed a perfumed salve on her wrists and neck.

Like wildflowers in the sun.

When she closed her eyes, she could almost hear his voice.

She gathered her things and reached for the doorknob just as someone turned it from the outside. Frank filled the doorway, dressed only in pants, which were zipped but not buttoned. Scales covered his arms and shoulders and fought for ground at the edges of his broad, shaggy chest. The skin of his throat pulsed over a rhythmically throbbing vein. A lock of dark, sleep-tousled hair kissed the thick brows that framed his drowsy blue eyes, which pinned her in place.

"Morning, sleepyhead," she said softly.

Without so much as a smile, he stepped to the side for her to pass.

In the kitchen, Leila sat at the table, filling two mugs with steaming coffee beside a small bowl of blackberries.

"A woman after my heart," Tansy said, still shaken from Frank's indifference. She slid into a chair as Leila scooted a coffee toward her.

"It's just us?"

"Just us," Leila said. "I went out and got these this morning. There's a patch in an alley a few blocks away."

"Oh wow, you were up early."

Leila gave her a half smile. "Best hunting."

"Is it... I mean, are you safe? Do you feel safe? Out there in the dark?"

Leila shrugged. "I'm usually alone."

Tansy nodded. "Well, I'm grateful." She sat back, cupping the mug in her hands. "You look different today. Wow, a lot different."

"Yeah," Leila said. She reached up and touched her scaled cheek, then lowered her eyes. "Not much skin left, but at least the scales match.”

"Lanolin helping?"

"SO much," she said, widening her eyes. "You don't even know."

Tansy looked around the quiet space. She spied the small robot—Buster—beside the partially disassembled Factor.

"So, can I ask about the Factor?"

"Um, I stole it?"

"From...?"

Leila shrugged. "It was in an alley one morning, just spinning in circles."

"How'd you get it back here?"

"I just waited it out, until it powered down."

"What was the plan if someone saw you?"

"I figured I'd say I was just taking it to an SDO station. But..." she said, trailing off.

"Nobody saw you. That was lucky, I guess. But they will, you know. It's a madhouse out there right now, but eventually someone will come looking."

She shrugged. "Let them look."

"Oh, they will, especially with it being an LX model. There are maybe 100 with lower body bioskin. They'll look, and they will find you."

"How?"

Tansy paused, considering. "First, tell me why you want it."

Leila backed away from the table and gestured at her wheelchair. "This thing is fucking ancient."

"Language."

Leila rolled her eyes. "I've been in this for a year and a half, and I'm done with it. I want legs again.”

"I don't get how the Factor will—"

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Leila went over to the Factor, suddenly animated. "Okay, look," she said. She slipped out of her chair. "Um, will you lock the door? Just use that board."

Door barred, Leila looked at Tansy for a long moment before tugging off her pants. Leila's legs ended a few inches below her pelvis. She wore a pair of aging prosthetics fastened by an elaborate and clearly homemade strap system.

"They used to fit better," she said matter-of-factly.

"Can I ask why you wear them?"

"I get hassled more without them. They're kinda heavy though." She released a buckle at her hip and slipped the prosthetics off.

"Born this way," Leila said, pointing at her legs. She turned around and lay on her back, pulling the bottom half of the Factor toward her body. And just like that, Tansy could see what Leila was doing.

She got up and stood for a moment, looking at the girl's work in stunned silence. Leila had hacked the Factor's pelvis and thighs to fit her own, though the cuts and joins were rudimentary and clearly needed more work. A small control box, probably taken from another robot, was welded onto the Factor's hip and joined to its wiring.

"You have a BCI for that?" she asked, pointing to the control box. Leila nodded, smiling from ear to ear.

"That's ingenious," Tansy whispered.

"I think it'll work."

"I think you're right. There's just one problem." Tansy looked at Leila for so long that the girl looked left and right, then behind to see if she was missing something. Tansy sighed. "I suppose it doesn't matter anymore."

"What?"

Tansy shook her head. "Nothing. Okay, girl. Wait—girl? I just assumed, sorry."

"Yeah."

Tansy sat cross-legged on the floor. "I need a magnet. A strong one. And a precision Phillips, the smallest one you have."

"Buster on," Leila said. "I need a strong magnet."

"Magnet."

"Precision screwdrivers."

"Precision screwdrivers."

"Ha! Nice," Tansy said as Buster reached in and pulled out the requested items. "What all's in there?"

Leila shrugged. It was so similar to Elio's shrug that Tansy did a double take.

Tansy slid the magnet along the Factor's right calf. A second later, a rectangle of metal popped off, revealing a hidden panel.

"Whoa," Leila whispered.

Tansy started unfastening the half dozen miniscule screws that held a faceplate in place. "This is the source of all your future troubles," she said.

"What is it?"

Tansy used the magnet to pull off the faceplate, revealing a small rectangular puck hidden inside a two-inch square compartment. She lifted it out and held it up between them.

"Tracker?" Leila said, suddenly as afraid as she should have been the whole time.

Tansy nodded. "But not for long."

"Hammer," Leila said.

"Hammer."

"No, no, no," Tansy said. They'll just track the last signal to you. "I'll take care of it."

Tansy grabbed her bag, slipped on her sandals, and popped a few berries into her mouth. She unlocked the door. "I'll be right back. I'm just going to the river."

"Be careful."

"Always," Tansy said.

She made her way cautiously toward the river half a mile away, pausing every few minutes just to listen.

At the water's edge, she hefted the tracking puck then pocketed it again. Finding a flat rock, she sat and tied the puck to the rock with a length of twine. She stood and hefted it again, then hurled it at the river. It disappeared into the water a third of the way across in a strong current.

"That'll do."

"What'll do?"

She whipped around.

"Oh, shit," a man said. "We caught a freak down by the river."

The second man whistled. "Well now, aren't you pretty?”

"What's in the river, Missy?" the first man said. He took a step toward her, his eyes drifting steadily downward.

She took a deep breath. "I was just leaving. Take care."

She hurried past them up the bank, picking her way through the trees, careful not to trip on exposed roots. She slipped her hand into her bag, feeling around for her knife. If she could make it to the sidewalk, she could—

"Hold on, now," the man said, grabbing her arm. She yanked free, but he grabbed again and held on tighter. He swung her around to face him. "Don't leave yet, sweetness. We wouldn't mind some company, would we, Darryl?"

"Bring her down here.”

The man clamped a hand over her mouth and dragged her back down the riverbank. She kicked and flailed, trying to wrench herself free, but his grip was like iron. His hand half covered her nose, and she scratched and pulled at it, desperate to get at some oxygen. As he pulled her to the ground, she bit down, gulping air as he yanked his hand away.

"Feisty!’

Both men were on her now. Her mind raced, looking for a way out as her body fought and strained against them. She looked past the man's grotesquely contorted face and up into the oak tree, up into the sky, silently pleading.

"What is all this?"

The men paused without loosening their grip.

A white-haired man stood a few yards away, stooping under the weight of a large rucksack.

"Go on, old man," Darryl said. "This is none of your business."

"Miss?" the old man said. “Can you hear me?"

Wild with lack of oxygen, Tansy did not hear him. She clawed at the man's arm, but he gripped her face like a vice.

"Get off her," the old man said. He was a few feet away now.

"I said get!" Darryl yelled.

"Move the fuck on or I'll get you the fuck on," the man said, just as the darkening circle closed Tansy's eyes.

"I think not," the old man said. He dropped his rucksack and stood tall. With a flick of his wrist he brandished a razor, the last thing Darryl would see except for the sky.

"Darryl?” the man shrieked.

Tansy didn't hear the man's final, frantic cry, or the gurgling sound his body made as he drowned in his own blood.

"Frank?"

"Let me sleep."

"I’m worried about Tansy."

He rolled over. "Leila? What time is it?"

"She left, and she was supposed to be right back, but she's still not—"

"What do you mean, she left?" He jumped up and slipped his clothes on. "Where the fuck is she?"

"The river."

"What? Why?" He took in Elio's empty bed. "Elio?"

Leila shrugged.

Frank let loose a stream of expletives, slipping his shoes on as he rushed toward the workroom. Halfway there, he paused at Tansy's door and shoved it open. Empty.

"When did she leave?"

"I'm not sure. An hour?"

"Jesus fucking Christ. Sirens?"

"No sirens."

"Okay," he said. "Stay here. If Elio comes back... you know what? Never fucking mind. Give me that slingshot."

"Wait," she said. She zoomed over to a cabinet and pulled out a mean-looking crossbow. "This?"

"Yeah, give me—"

A commotion erupted in the hall as Leila's makeshift alarm toppled over.

"Get behind me," Frank said. He fixed a bolt in the bow and held it at the ready just as the door swung open.