The medic that Heretic was speaking with looked at him quizzically until the one that had traveled with Halvorson's platoon came over.<br/><br/>"He's not kidding," the medic said.  "He should get something or he might lose it."<br/><br/>"He should be seeing one of our scientists, not us," the first medic said.  "We don't have much blood to spare," he said.<br/><br/>Halvorson came over to the medic he was familiar with.  "Hey doc, we're gonna need you," he said.<br/><br/>The medic looked at him.  "My name's Brown," he said simply.<br/><br/>"Doc Brown, huh?" said Halvorson.  "Well, load up.  We're getting prepared to leave."<br/><br/>Brown left Heretic's side, leaving him with the first medic, who eyed him a moment, then took him aside.  "I'll tell you what..." he said, digging into a duffel bag by a wall and handing Heretic a small bag of human blood.  "Suck on this for a bit, and I'll take a sample of your blood and give it to the Chemical Division.  It might take a while, or might never happen, but they could find a cure to the serum."  He pulled out a clean syringe.<br/><br/>-----<br/><br/>The old man cackled.  "You're a funny sort of plant!" he said.  "Mess with the Bitch's head?  You won't even faze her!"  Still, he went on.  "She's older than she looks, the Bitch.  She could be your grandmother."  The old man suddenly howled with laughter.  "THAT WOULD BE HILARIOUS!"  It took him a moment to settle down.  "Her husband's barely seen the light of day.  You know why?  He's nothing but a fuck-toy.  HAHA!  THE BITCH'S BITCH!"<br/><br/>There was a much longer interval of insane laughter here.  After a pause, during which a slat in the door opened, revealing a pair of guard's eyes examining them, the old man started talking.  "Oh, go spank it, guard!  A man's gotta have SOME fun!"  The slat slid shut with a bang and the guard's heavy footsteps retreated.  The old man lowered his voice conspiratorially.  "The Bitch was beaten as a child."  Suddenly he broke down into giggles, albeit quiet ones.  "And if you believe THAT, there's a bridge over the lake I could sell you!"  He composed himself again - as much as a half-starved insane torture-victim could.  "It was how the old Great-Grandmama Bitch was," he said.  "She came down on the city like a granite snowstorm.  She taught her daughters how to be like she was, and to never trust a male to run the city.  That's why you never see the Bitch around with any little Bitchettes behind her - her husband's giving her only little Dogs!"<br/><br/>-----<br/><br/>The little bovine girl was shivering from the cold of the water and her fear of Kitten.  When Sherra hugged her, she fell gratefully into the embrace and started to weep.  She seemed to hear and understand Sherra's words, and through her tears, she mumbled out her name.  "F... Feldana..."<br/><br/>-----<br/><br/>Lentan looked at Sara and chuckled.  "That's obvious of course," he said.  "I welcome you to it if you can find a blow-torch around here, but it will take time.  I'd like you to all get underway as soon as possible."  He looked around briefly until Jania spoke up.  "Ah yes, you might have some trouble..." he said, nodding at her.  "I hate to do this to you, but you'll have to stay behind with the truck in case any nosy furs happen by.  If we throw you at the Palace, they'll pull out the big guns way too early and waste us all."<br/><br/>He made an announcement to the group going on the mission.  "Once everyone's ready to go, line up here in front of the gazebo!"