"Fuck that guy," Saturday says fiercely. "I got you. I'm right here. No motherfucker touches anyone while I breath."

She has both hands on Cammie now, metallic and flesh, but her metal arm is magic, not technology, warm and pliable as a real arm. And her eyes are boring into Cammie's, unmistakably not those of a machine.

"You can do this. You survived the Rig. This is nothing. Just lean on me, I'll get you up. We gotta move, Cammie."