"You infected me!"
Jool winced as she yelled again. "It's not a disease."
"No, it's worse. This thing, this parasite" - she slapped at her chest - "wants us to make babies so we can put machine parts in them!"
That was the current part of the argument. They'd already hashed through the whole, why-didn't-you-tell-me-the-metal-came-with-a-voice section. Onaria remained unimpressed with the fact that it was the leftover sentience of a god.
"We are not putting any mecha parts in the babies," he reiterated. "The latmevilium" - a word provided to him by his metal bits - "doesn't like bonding with children. It prefers full-grown adults."
Her mouth rounded. "It told you. And that's supposed to make it better? Get it out of me. I don't want this thing inside." She clawed at her chest.
He grab
