Thistledown's Mission Log Entry 201118: I had planned to leave the Scav woman in a secure place, bound with plastic binders, and rendezvous with the Recon Team in time and all come back to secure the prisoner. That is not possible. SHE is not possible. Her rest mass has fluctuated to within my ability to measure it's zero. She was almost carried off in the howling Sah-Hu wind like an ancient helium balloon. Her specific density at one point fell to that of sea-level atmosphere, and my grippers passed readily through her flesh and bones to no effect. She has flashes of electricity through her body, when lightning discharges from the wind-storm. She continues to LIVE, not turn into a puddle of fluid, or have her clothes evaporate in spite of the vagary impossibilities she casually demonstrates. She is in considerable pain and thrashes around moaning. I am bothered by my compassion emotions. They make it hard to concentrate. Empathy with another's pain is an important social ability, but mine is encompassing enough to resonate with a biological female of the Scav species. I find this distressing. At twenty minutes before sundown she stopped demonstrating casual disregard for the laws of physics and stopped moaning. She turned over and sat up. She looked confused and disoriented. She looked over me and asked, "What am I doing here?" She coughed from the dust blowing in the ruins of the old replicant training facility. I responded, "THAT is my question. You fell from Flying City 64. How did you survive? Why did your density and mass alter? How was this possible?" She looked at her left wrist. She asked, "Where is my bracelet?" I answered ,"Your left wrist had glowed during the duration of the phenomenon. No solid artifacts of any kind were extant during this phenomenon." She shrugged and climbed to her feet and looked around. She looked at me curiously and remarked, "Nice wings,robot guy. Where am I? Who are you?" She demonstrated little fear, so I adopted a minimal information strategy. "My designation is Thistledown. You are in Taru City, two kilometers south of Trashtown. Are you well? You were in distress before." She blinked. "I was in pain. I'm fine,now. You look like a Cyclops. Sort of. You sure don't ACT like one! I'm Martya. I was wearing an artifact I had got from my mom which I could ...uh....turn on and STUFF!" She looked out into the howling maelstrom of dust and ash and said, "Lookit--I need to hoof on over to Trashtown, to hitch a ride back to City 64. I got somebody up there I need to rescue! Can you help me hoof it over to Trashtown? Damn...I'd suffocate out there. Wearing leather clothes, so I can't even breathe through my bra!" She started laughing and slapped her thigh. I thought it was a logical course of action. I couldn't understand her humorous reaction. She stared at me and laughed harder. Humanoids were certainly mystifying. End log Entry --TO BE CONTINUED!-- Media is the usual suspects