I’d better give Amy the fix or it’ll be too late, Brian, the disfigured one, thought as he withdrew a metallic cube from within the folds of his tunic. Placing it on the now crumbling table, he switched it on.
The seemingly unexciting machine purred quietly to itself; however the table stopped crumbling. So did everything else. An almost imperceptible grey mist drifted from all corners of the room towards the cube. Brian took what seemed to be a perfume atomiser from his pocket and sprayed Amy from head to toe. She brightened, coughed once and screamed.
“Don’t be frightened. I’m here to help you.” Said Brian. Amy stared. “Whh…wh…h…a…who”, she stammered.
“Are you trying to ask who I am… or what I am, perhaps?
“Either. Both…I dunno.”
“Well, my name is Brian. That’s probably enough of the who for now. As to what, I’m not sure quite what to tell you. I was human, once. I lived in the Ukraine during April 1986. I survived Chernobyl only through the use of classified technology.”