Foster slammed the hatch on that one and instead requested that the security system unlock cell 4. A moment later the lock clicked and he pulled the door open.

'Constallation, come and meet your team leader. Savael, this is Theta four, Nikoli.'

The angel turned her head, sneered a little, and said nothing.

Charming. Apparently angels were brimming over with charisma. He gave the taller girl a shrug and told her to stand by the door. He opened Sam's door next, and made similar introductions.

'Sam, Savael, your team leader. The big girl there is Nikoli. She's your team's brick, strong and tough.'

'Huh. Right. Our leader's a kid?'

Savael frowned. 'I am no child.'

'Sure thing, hon,' she drawled. 'Lemme guess, ten? Ten and a half?'

Savael's eerily deep voice echoed. 'Impudent mortal. I predate your concepts of time.'

Sam chuckled. 'Predate my concept of puberty, more like.' She turned her attention to Nikoli, who gave her a shaky smile. 'Strong and tough, huh? Cool. You can handle the grunt work. I don't wanna break a nail.'

Foster sighed. Yeah. Sam was gonna be a problem.

= = =

Theta two, answering to Fern, had the slightly ominous codename Black Amber, which apparently referred to the freaky magic gemstone lodged in her sternum, which couldn't be removed without killing her, and also required her costume to feature a prominent cut-out. Somewhat brave for an adult, a little bit questionable for a fourteen-year-old. Still, needs must. Right now she was in her jumpsuit, effectively neutered.

The girl stared at the other girls like they had two heads, and flinched when Sam spoke to her.

Savael ignored Fern and stared straight ahead, refusing to interact. Nikoli looked worried. 'Sir? Is she okay?'

'Maybe, maybe not. We'll figure it out together.'

He opened Meghan's door, and the snake-woman wandered out, looking around as though curious about everything. Foster half expected her to start sniffing, or sticking out a long slender tongue, but she merely looked at the others, her expression blank and eerie.

It's a bunch of snakes, he reminded himself. It's not going to have a grasp of facial expressions.

'Ladies, this is Meghan. Theta five. The last member of your team.'

Sam put a hand on her hip. 'What does she do?'

'We are Meghan,' piped up the alien. 'Where is food?'

Nikoli brightened as the mention of food, and Foster checked his chrono. Fourteen hundred hours.

'Have you guys had lunch? Today, I mean?'

Sam and Nikoli both shook their head. 'Great. First team bonding exercise, then. Lunch. Come on.'

He walked out of the hall, and most of the girls followed. He stopped. 'Somebody bring Fern.'

= = =

Foster was a little perturbed when Sam fell in alongside him instead of following. 'So, you're our commander? Is that an official rank, or are you special just because?'

Foster glanced at her. 'Just lucky, I guess.'

'How is it you already have a counter to my power? Nobody else here has any mental defences.'

'I'm always one step ahead, Eagle. Get used to it.'

She folded her arms, pouting. 'Fine. Keep your secrets.' She jogged to keep up, and changed the topic. 'What's the deal with the patchwork freak?'

'Alien,' he said, quietly. 'That's a hundred-odd alien snakes, and they're hungry.'

'Snakes,' she echoed. 'Alien snakes? I thought we were a hero team, not a zoo.'

'I didn't pick the line-up, I'm just saddled with making sure you guys leave the building without causing an international incident.'

The cafeteria was mostly-empty, since they were late by normal standards. Foster led his gaggle of charges to the counter and waited for somebody to notice him.

'We're closed,' grumbled the white-coated man. Foster raised a brow.

'Then un-close, sharpish.' He jerked a thumb toward Meghan, who was eyeing the man with terrifying focus. 'That one will eat anyone or anything, and it missed lunch.'

'Okay, okay, geez.' The man started lifting the steel lids from the serving counter. 'What do you want?'

'Nothing for me, actually.' Foster shrugged. He could eat normal food, but his fully-mechanised body didn't metabolise it well, and also lacked a convenient exit strategy. He turned to Savael, who shook her head.

'No,' she intoned, which could have meant anything, but for now it meant she wasn't getting lunch.

'Fine, step aside. Fern?'

'Huh? Me?'

'Yeah. You hungry?'

'I... yes.'

Foster rolled his eyes. It was like pulling teeth, and he didn't have the patience to ask her dietary preferences. He grabbed something from the counter. 'Cheese sandwich.' He held it in front of her face, and she took it. 'Okay, good. Fuckin' hooray. Sam. Get some food. Don't take all day.'

'Chicken salad?' she enquired, and the food-guy made a start preparing it.

'Nikoli? Don't be shy. If you've got dietary requirements, speak up. If you need a big meal, don't worry about it.'

'Oh, ah, okay? Can I have some fries?'

'Don't see why not.'

The girl smiled, and Foster nodded to himself. A small win.

'You. Snakes. What do you eat?'

'Fooood'. The alien's voice spoke in several echoing tones, her red eyes wide.

'Yeah, I mean this stuff here, not the staff. Is any of this good for you?'

'It requires meat.'

Foster blinked. Meghan's list of personal pronouns apparently included third-person-what-the-fuck. He picked up a fork and speared a sausage. He waved it in her face, letting her get a scent. 'This any good? Cooked?'

The fork jerked in his hand, and the alien's face... separated. It wasn't like her jaws opening, the whole assembly suddenly split apart revealing a dozen dark splits, and the sausage on his fork tore itself to shreds before his eyes. Morsels of glistening meat sailed through the air into the gaps, and a second later the alien's face closed back up. She blinked, slowly, then smiled.

'Meat. Meat is food. We are pleased. Yes.'

Foster fought down his gorge and nodded. The fork in his hand was twisted and scored. 'Okay. Okay. Meat is food. We're learning. Awesome.

= = =

He selected a table, out of the way, and got the group sat. He lured Meghan over with a sausage, and got her to sit before she could do her weird telekinetic trick again. Savael stood nearby, apparently unconcerned with concepts like resting or eating. Nik plucked fries from her little packet and nibbled them, making each one last. Fern ate her sandwich, as though operating on muscle memory - it was the most normal thing he'd seen her do so far.

Sam finally sauntered over with a fancy salad. Foster guessed she'd smiled or winked at the guy behind the counter, because he'd spent a long time putting it together, and it looked a lot fancier than the plain salads they had on offer.

The humans ate, and carefully didn't look at Meghan while she inhaled her cloud of shredded meat-crumbs. Looking away did nothing to hide the slithering, sucking noises, and he resolved to find alternative dining arrangements.

He accessed the Green Book again and confirmed that Savael seemed to treat all biological functions as optional. Food, sleep, blinking, breathing. She could do those things, but didn't need to, and found the idea offensive. Vulgar.

Terrific. His team leader thought that respiration was beneath her.

Chapters...