The medireport came through on the telox. An incadescent meteor tore through space with a scissors sound. Blood read the report slowly. Cellular degeneration was increasing since the last report. A frightening question came up from his synthetic throat:
"Honk, how long can I live without the vital fluid of the NUMBERS?"
"312 Universal Time Units", replied the bio-consciousness, "Permit me
to augment your optimism levels: Your metabolism can't afford despair,
and I've isolated a suicide impulse in the B Cortex of a bulb gene in
your right brain."
"Go ahead", acquiesced Blood, "Have the last 5 NUMBERS been located?"
"Negative. They are equipped with radar scramblers."
'Five NUMBERS are left, hidden somewhere among those stars', thought Blood. Five damned NUMBERS, waiting for him, warned by the MIGRAX, who were only too willing to sell the information for a price. Five clones of himself, ready to defend their stinking NUMBER hides: one, two, three, four and that son of a bitch NUMBER 5.
Blood shouted, "How many OORXX does Ark have?"
"18 adults. The bionic layer has laid 14 missiles which will be operational in 5 Times", replied the metallic voice of Honk.
"Direction Ondoya", ordered Blood, "Reactivate the layer, lock the georadar on target, pump up the nuke shield, we'll need it. We're gonna zap those guys!"
Ark tore off thunderously. Down in the Pram Zone, the OORXX layer squeaked in pain, and three more slimy missiles rolled down the birth ramp.
End of report from Ark's bio-writer.