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ventured another look.
    Bub was back by the tree, sitting on his haunches. The sheep was cradled in his enormous hands, as a child might hold a gerbil. But it was unharmed. In fact, Bub was stroking it along its back, and making soft sounds.
    Sheep sounds.
    “He’s talking to the sheep,” Dr. Belgium said. “He’s going to do it. Here comes the miracle.”
    Andy watched as the sheep ceased in its struggle. Bub continued to pet the animal, his hideous face taking on a solemn cast. There was silence in the room. Andy realized he’d been holding his breath.
    The movement was sudden. One moment Bub was rubbing the sheep’s head, the next moment he twisted it backwards like a jar top.
    There was a sickening crunch, the sound of wet kindling snapping. The sheep’s head lolled off to the side at a crazy angle, rubbery and twitching. Andy felt an adrenaline surge and had to fight not to run away.
    “Now here it comes,” Dr. Belgium said, his voice a whisper.
    Bub held the sheep close to his chest and closed his elliptical eyes. A minute of absolute stillness passed.
    Then one of the sheep’s legs jerked.
    “What is that?” Andy asked. “A reflex?”
    “No,” Sun answered. “It’s not a reflex.”
    The leg jerked again. And again. Bub set down the sheep, which shook itself and then got to its feet.
    “Jesus,” Andy gasped.
    The sheep took two steps and blinked. What made the whole resurrection even more unsettling was the fact that the sheep’s head hung limply between its front legs, turned completely around so it looked at them upside down.
    Andy’s fear changed to awe. “But it’s dead. Isn’t it dead?”
    “We’re not sure,” Sun said. “The lungs weren’t moving a minute ago, but now they are.”
    “But he broke its neck. Even if it was alive, could it move with a broken neck?”
    The sheep attempted to nibble at some grass with his head backwards.
    “I guess it can,” Sun said.
    “Amazing,” Dr. Belgium said. “Amazing amazing amazing.”
    “Shouldn’t you get the sheep?” Andy asked. “Run some tests?”
    “Go right ahead,” Sun said. “The door’s over there.”
    “Probably not a good idea to go in there before Bub’s eaten.” Dr. Belgium said.
    Andy said. “Can’t you tranquilize him or something? Race said he went into the habitat before.”
    “Twice, against my insistence, but only to get some stool samples and to fix a clog in the artificial stream. Both times Bub ignored him. Even Race isn’t insane enough to go in there and take his food away. And I’m not going to tranquilize Bub until we know more about his physiology. We don’t know what tranquilizers would do to him.”
    Bub barked a sound, similar to a cough. The sheep trotted around in a circle, head swinging from side to side, trying to bleat with a broken neck.
    Bub coughed again.
    Or was it a laugh?
    The sheep swung its head around at Bub and screamed. Bub reached out and grabbed the sheep. The grab was rough, all pretense of tenderness gone. Holding a hind leg in each claw, he ripped the sheep in half and began to feast on the innards.
    Andy’s stomach climbed up his throat and threatened to jump out. He put a hand over his mouth and turned away, the munching and gobbling sounds filling the large room.
    “From amazing to horrible,” Dr. Belgium said, returning to his computer station.
    “He eats everything,” Sun said, putting the reins in her coat pocket. “The skull, bones, hide, even intestines. Doesn’t waste a crumb. The perfect carnivore.”
    Andy threw up, seeing the banana muffins for the second time that day. He apologized and fled the room, his brain scrambling to remember the code number for the gate. He managed, but got stuck when he reached the second one.
    This was insane. This whole project was insane. Andy felt no curiosity at all—only terror, revulsion, and anger at being suckered into this mess. He gave the bars a shake and a swift kick, swearing in several different languages.
    Sun