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Travels of the Starfire: Thrall

Nei Tewaus watched the seemingly endless stream of returning mining craft from her table next to the panoramic windows of the C-Ring Grill. Their computers steered them precisely into docking ports, discharged the collected minerals, and jetted off again into the void.

"Mind if I join you?" Asked a voice.

Nei looked towards the speaker. He was a young man, wearing a somewhat disheveled military uniform. He held a tray with some local food on it.

"No. Go ahead and have a seat," she responded without very much interest, as she looked back out the window. Praeleon VI's largest moon, dubbed Ice-ball by the locals, was just coming into view. Its eponymous icy surface glistened brightly in the dull orange sunlight.

"I haven't seen many fellow agilians out this far," the man said, as he settled into the chair across from Nei.

"Hmm. Well, that makes two of us," she replied, still admiring the moon.

He laughed. "You mean, that is two of us who haven't seen many other agilians, or that there are only two of us here in total?"

"In total. Almost all of the miners are nai eris2. This bar isn't a representative sample of the station's population; humans account for not more than a tenth of it," she responded, not taking her eyes off the moon. It had an interesting little dark square where water ice was being mined from the rocky surface.

The young man took a drink. "Humans. Uh, interesting folk. Our nearest biological relatives as a sentient species, I wonder why we don't get along better. Odd, isn't it?"

"I suppose so. They haven't given me any trouble here."

"What do you do here? You seem to know quite a bit about the station."

"I...  I'm a doctor. I'm between jobs," she said, turning back to look at him.

"Oh. So am I, actually. Between jobs, that is, not a doctor." He replied, taking another drink. "My field is hyperspace navigation. A fascinating subject."

"I'm sure it is," the woman responded, her gaze drifting back to the icy moon.

"Yes. Hyperspace gradualarity theory is my hobby and related to my profession. Well, it was related to my profession. I have some ideas about it - er, how much do you know about it? Gradualarity, I mean?"

"A bit. The theory that tells us that similarity between planes in the hyper-spatial dimension is directly proportional to their distance," she replied, dimly recalling some survey course at Sa Warin University.

"Right, right. There's another half to it, but that's the gist of it. It practically hands us constant-time transportation, if only we had the math! Brencme was right, what separates animal from man and man from the Great Designer is the level of mathematical knowledge!"

"Brencme," she replied as she turned back to make eye contact again, "... was a lunatic numerologist. Good thing he was as bad of a duelist as a philosopher, or we'd surely have been much worse off as a species. That said, you're the first person knowing of the agilian philosophers I've met in months."

"Oh? Well, you're the first person I've seen since I left the navy who knows about Hyperspace Gradualarity theory. Granted I only left a few days ago. But, about Brencme - It is not so! He was..."

The young man's rebuttal was interrupted by another man, approaching the table.

"Excuse me, but I couldn't help but overhearing your conversation," the man began.

"See! So there are others here who will rally to the defense of the venerable Brencme..." The young man interrupted.

"Um, I'm not familiar with him. Sorry... "

"Pity. He was a brilliant agilian philosopher and mathematician who..."

The man standing near the table suppressed some irritation. "Another time, maybe," he said to the male agilian.  He turned to Nei. "Look, I overheard you say you're a doctor, right?" He asked.

"I am. Is someone in need of me in my professional capacity?" She responded.

"Not right now, no one is hurt, but yes. I'm captain Marcus Carey, of the trade and salvage vessel MSV Starfire. My friend Jules Bisping," he said, indicating an older man at the adjacent table, "... and I have been looking all day to hire a ship's doctor."

Nei nodded. "Sounds interesting."

"Have you any need for a hyperspace navigator? Or a mathematician?" The other agilian chimed in.

"Our ship has a computer for hyperspace navigation," the captain replied.

"Well, a computer just won't stand up to an organic navigator. I'm Ferek Wist. I'm a top-notch navigator. Late of the Stellar Confederation Navy."

He reached out and shook the captain's hand.

"Hmm. I don't know. I'll... consider it," Marcus said, looking back at Nei.

"Would you like to see the Starfire, doctor ..." He invited, prompting for her name.

"Tewaus. Nei Tewaus. And yes, I'd be happy to. Not like I have anything better to do at the moment," she accepted, pulling back her chair.

"Mind if I come along? I also haven't anything better to do," asked Ferek.

"Um. I guess that's fine," Marcus replied begrudgingly.

Joined by Jules, they headed out of the bar.

**

"And this will be your quarters, if you accept the offer. Starfire is quite well furnished, as you can see. The captain's father and I salvaged these from a derelict luxury liner," Jules Bisping said, pointing out the chairs at a table to Nei Tewaus.

"Lovely, but not much use in free-fall. Does this ship have artificial gravity? It seems a bit small for rotation," Nei asked, simultaneously looking at the painting on the wall. It depicted a gas giant not terribly unlike the one orbited by the station at which Starfire was docked.

"No, it doesn't. Why, do you get space-sick?" The engineer asked.1

"No. Not usually," she replied, contemplating the painting. "Xine, is this?" She asked.

"Good. Oh, the painting? I think so. I'm an engineer, not much of an artist, but it is a xine work, if I recall. Ben - the captain's father - always admired the xine's great masters. Found them inspiring."

"Xine are an inspiring species. They're the reason I became a doctor," Nei said.

"Really?"

"Yes. But it leads into a long and depressing tale of tragedy, woe, and innocent lives lost or ruined because of governmental corruption. I won't burden you with the details," Nei explained in a melancholy tone.

Jules nodded sympathetically. "Well, that's one upside to the deficiency of authorities out here in the Outback. No authorities, no corrupt authorities."

"Indeed. I've become something of a minarchist of late, perhaps that's why I've come out this way..." the doctor said vaguely. "Nice view," she commented, looking at the video panel in the room, which was displaying a view of the great planet below.

"Yes. Well, if we go up to the bridge, we can see a better one. The F-Series Star-clipper, like most of Andreas Yards designs, has very ample windows," the engineer said, praising the virtues of the ship.

The pair stepped back into the corridor. "Bridge is this way," Jules directed. Nei followed him towards the personnel lift.

"So, doctor Tewaus, where do you hail from?" He asked, as they walked into the small lift.

"Originally, Agila Mirana."

"Interesting co-incidence, our last doctor did his pre-med studies there."

"Oh, really? Is the last doctor who worked for you also an agilian?"

"No, he was a human. Anyway, you're from Agila Mirana, though? Nice place?" Jules asked, as he pressed the button for the bridge.

She hesitated to respond. "Depends mostly on your criteria," she answered ambiguously. "Too many people for me."

"Another factor drawing you to the Outback?"

"Perhaps so."

They reached the bridge. "Well, this is a small ship and we can't promise much solitude, I'm afraid."

"Don't worry about it. I'm sure the crew of an Outback merchant ship would be far less troublesome than a population of forty-three billion."

"I'm not so sure," the senior engineer mumbled under his breath as they stepped onto the Starfire's bridge.

"Hmm?"

"Nothing."

"Oh, there you are! Where did you two get off to?" Ferek, the would-be hyperspace navigator, addressed Jules and Nei.

"I was showing her the quarters and medical facilities."

"Ah. Have I missed that part of the tour then? Sorry, I was having the most interesting chat with Amy here," he said, referring to a young woman standing nearby.

"Hello, Jules," she greeted the engineer.

"You've met my assistant then?" Jules asked.

"Yes. We've been having a discussion about Hyperspace Gradualarity Theory. Nice to meet someone who is 'on the level'," the young agilian replied.

"Thank you," she replied.

"Oh, doctor Tewaus, this is Amy. Amy is the assistant engineer and information specialist on Starfire."

Amy shook hands with Nei.

"Nice to meet you," she said.

"As you can see, Starfire is quite well equipped. The Star-clipper bridge layout actually won a design award for its architect," Jules continued his tour, indicating some of the consoles centered around a central column on which panoramic video monitors were attached.

"You don't have to sell the ship to me anymore. It's certainly satisfactory. And probably very well cared for," she replied, looking through the bridge windows at the opposite side of the station's ring as it slowly rotated in front of the looming, murky-purple gas giant.

"Good. Well, when the captain gets back, I think we can get through the necessary paperwork..."

"Um. Yes, I was wondering if I could speak to you about that," the agilian doctor asked. "I have authenticated copies of my degree and a Level II license to practice medicine from the Confederation, but I'm a... political exile from the League, so you'd have trouble verifying my original qualifications directly," she said, sounding somewhat uncertain.

"I don't think it will be a problem, as long as your Confederate papers are in order."

"That's good. Thank you," she replied, noticeably relieved.

The slightly awkward pause was interrupted by an exclamation from Ferek, behind them.

"Wow, you are light!"

"Yes, as I said. I wasn't implying that you should verify it, " Amy responded to him.

Jules turned around to see the agilian holding his assistant about a foot off the ground.

"Oh," he said, putting her back on her feet.

"You know, just because Amy is a synthetic doesn't mean that she isn't entitled to personal space," Jules said, giving Ferek a disarming look.

"Sorry. I have to admit that interpersonal relations is not my strong suite," he said apologetically to the engineer.

"I'm not the one to apologize to."

Ferek turned to Amy. "Sorry..."

"No harm done," she replied.

Just then, captain Carey and the Starfire's first officer, Amara Var, stepped onto the bridge from the other lift.

"Welcome back," Jules greeted Marcus and Amara.

"How did the tour go?" He asked.

"You have a fine ship, captain. I'd be quite willing to take you up on the offer we discussed earlier," Nei responded.

"Good. Jules, Amy, I'd like to see you for a moment. Doctor, and uh, what was your name?" He asked, referring to Ferek.

"Ferek Wist."

"Right. This is the Starfire's first officer, Amara Var," the captain said, introducing her to Ferek and Nei.

Jules, Amy and the Captain walked across the bridge to an antechamber, out of earshot.

"Well?" Marcus asked.

"Captain, I think doctor Tewaus is more than qualified to be a ship's doctor. And I don't use that as a figure of speech. In addition to her medical qualification, she has a doctorate in exo-biochemistry from one of the most prestigious universities in the League, and according to her resumé, she spent the last several years as a medical researcher on one of the agilian central worlds," Jules said.

"Hmm. You would think she would want a more prestigious - better paying - position," the captain reasoned, agreeing with his engineer's implication.

"Yes. She says she's a 'political exile' from the League. I think there is more to it than that, but she's not forthcoming. It could be that what she says is true. She seems to have some political views that wouldn't be popular there, and it's certainly possible she just needs any decent job to get back on her professional feet."

"What's the worst case scenario? She's a criminal or something? Let's face it, we're desperate."

"The worst case scenario is that she's a con artist and we don't find out until there is a medical emergency away from civilization. But given how we ran into her I doubt that is the case."

"Right," The captain nodded in agreement. "I think we should hire her. Better to take a small chance of having a bad doctor than a larger chance of having a medical emergency and no doctor. It's not like that mining station was teeming with physicians. Just let's hope she doesn't ask about what happened to the last doctor and everything will go okay," Jules finished.

"What about that 'hyper-navigator' kid? Any good?"

"Good at being annoying. But then I didn't talk to him much," Jules admitted. "Ask Amy."

The captain turned to her.

"My interaction with him led me to the same conclusion regarding his social behavior. However, he is apparently quite knowledgable about the practical and the theoretical aspects of hyperspatial theory. According to him, a skilled organic navigator can often achieve economically significant improvements in travel time over using pre-charted routes executed programmaticly," she explained.

"Hmm. What about him, though?" The captain asked skeptically.

"I can't say. If his practical ability is as good as his grasp of hyperspace on a theoretical level,  I don't doubt that the benefit would be significant; and if his practical ability is as good as he says, we're quite likely to get where we're going before we decide to leave," the synthetic being said, jokingly. "He claims to have studied the topic of hyperspace theory, but does not have any formal qualifications. He has worked as a hyperspace navigator for the navy."

"Captain, I'm sure you appreciate the importance of social dynamics on a ship of this size," Jules advised.

He nodded. "Yes. Well, let's give him a chance to live up to his boasting. I'll ask if he's willing to give us a demonstration for free on our trip to Akarn. If things go well, perhaps we'll take him on," the captain said, seeing a third option.

"That sounds like a good path to take," The senior engineer agreed.

"I'll inform our new shipmates about the decision, then."

**

"A hideous, muddy, humid  little yokel-infested planet, Akarn. I've visited it before," Jules recalled. "It was in my younger days, when I wasn't much older than you." Jules drifted weightlessly past Ferek as he spoke, to examine a panel on the bridge.

"It's that bad? Pity. I don't get along well with yokels," the agilian admitted. He was paging through a hard-copy of Starfire's navigation console user manual.

"We have some common ground then. Although, to be fair, I think I'd have hit it off  with them a bit better if I hadn't been there to protest there use of sentient synthetics as slaves. Most of the Akarni farms that feed this region of space are worked by slaves," he, as he rotated himself upside down to pick up a drifting food wrapper.

"Want to keep better tabs on your garbage? We have a little informal rule that people who leave this sort of junk around have to clean the air intakes25," the engineer scolded as he crinkled up the wrapper and stuffed it into one of his jacket's many pockets.

"Old habit. On the Paladin we had a cleaning staff."

"A luxury those of us who don't live off the tax dollars of two thousand worlds can't afford."

Ferek scoffed. "One thousand,  nine hundred, and forty-three worlds. Exactitude. What separates the mathematician from the engineer."

"Neatness: what separates the engineer from the air-intake-cleaner. Apart from thirty or so kilocreds a year."

"Skillful," Ferek conceded. "But about your adventure with the Akarni? You were a synthetic rights activist?" The navigator asked, changing the subject.

"Am. I am a  card-carrying member of the Synthetic Rights League. I can't - well, don't - do as much as I used to.  Of course, now that we and the Interstellar Coalition of Labor Unions got the  CUSRL passed,  the situation is far better for synthetics. Back about... um, twenty or so years ago, though, I traveled to Akarn on a transport with thirty other activists.  We picketed a cargo ship that was carrying new androids to farmers on Akarn, to do field labor," Jules said as he gave a cursory examination to the readouts.

"Why do they need sentients to do such a simple task? Wouldn't robots be able to do it?" Ferek asked.

"There are a few reasons. Despite its reputation as an agricultural world, Akarn has precious little arable land in the conventional sense - it's just the best in the region. The soil may be rich, but it isn't nice, flat and consistent like machine harvesters need. Most of the farmland of Akarn has enough topographical variation to make it impossible to use that sort of system. Also, the crops the Akarni grow in those small regions of good land perched on hillsides are optimized for high yield to the extent that they need skilled care," the engineer explained, planting his magnetic boots on the deck and re-orienting himself.

 

"Ah. I see," the agilian signaled his comprehension.

"So, we set up around the docking pad where the slave ship landed, made an obstruction of ourselves and managed to prevent it from unloading. Some local activists - there are few, but they're there - joined us. Things went pretty well for us at first. The Akarni police never showed up - they were still nominally respecting the Confederation's legal system at that point. But by the second day, the yokels decided to take things into their own hands. Isn't really much more to say - there was a... conflict. People got hurt. I don't know how it happened, but some things got set on fire. Wasn't me. We were run off the planet. The media report mostly took our side on it, so I suppose it was an overall success."

"Anyone die?"

"Not that I know of."

"Good. Happy ending, then," Ferek appraised the story, as he flipped the page in the manual.

"No. Not a happy ending for the tens of thousands of slaves who still labor in the fields of that backward, forsaken planet. And why? Why is chattel slavery, a barbaric labor system we abandoned two and a half thousand years ago for organics, tolerated on a member world of the grand and noble Confederation, champion of sentient rights? For no reason other than the people being enslaved were built instead of born..."

"...Yes, yes, I agree with you. It's a terrible injustice," Ferek said dismissively.

"How can you be so noncommittal about it?"

"I've more important things to think about,"  the agilian said bluntly as he shifted around to stow the manual. "Such as how to convince you and your understandably skeptical captain that my contribution to your venture is worth paying for."

"We'll see. You've got about six hours before we're at the linearity you pointed us at," the engineer stated as he shoved off towards the lift's now open shaft. "See you around," He in a perfunctory manner as he floated across the star-clipper's bridge.

**

Nei Tewaus stood in front  of a display in Starfire's sickbay. It showed a listing of the organic crew - medical records.

"Your predecessor kept careful records on the health of the crew. I don't think you will have any problems getting up to speed," Amy said to the doctor.

"I haven't met this person. Who's she?" Nei asked, pointing out a small picture of an older human woman next to the name Eliza Carey. "Relative of the captain?"

"Yes, his mother. Sadly, she was killed seven years ago in an attack by the native life of a primitive world we visited."

"That's terrible!"

"Yes. Our ship has had more than its statistical fair share of misfortune."

"Misfortune?"

"A less rational being might think the universe hates us," Amy ruefully said, as she walked over to a cupboard in the sickbay. "Medicines are mostly in this compartment. There is an inventory on the computer. We have all the essentials..."

"The universe hates you? "

"Not literally, but it seems that way at times..."

"Don't frighten her, Amy. We don't want our new doctor to abandon us at the next port," the first officer, Amara, said as she glided into the medical bay and planted her boots on the deck. "Finding things alright?"

"Yes. Jules showed me your medical facilities here earlier. Very well stocked - best infirmary I've ever seen on a small ship."

"We need it," Amy commented.

Amara made a disapproving expression.

"We're in in salvage business, after all. 'Survivors come first' is the highest rule of the legitimate branch of the trade," Amy concluded, modifying the implication of her statement.

"Do you get more of your income from salvage or from your cargo and passenger runs?" Nei asked.

"It's a pretty even split, but transport is far more reliable. We might go three or four months without a salvage opportunity. Cargo and passengers usually put food on the table and fuel in the ship," Amara answered.

"What imaging systems do you have?" The doctor asked.

"We have a Med-tron YT-11 and the usual equipment for a lab," Amy said. "The scanner is over there, " she said, gesturing to a machine on the far side of the sickbay.

"We had a YT-11 back at university. Yours have the phase-unlocking bug fixed?"

"Yes. It's a newer one," she replied. "We found it on a disabled medical ship that was atta..."

"Anyway, " Amara interrupted, "I'm glad to hear you have experience with that model. So, have a look at the inventory and let us know if there is anything you need in the way of medical supplies. We'll get them as soon as we can."

The doctor nodded.

"Our ETA to the linearity is twenty minutes. All crew, prepare to match velocity", the captain announced over the ship's intercom.

"Duty calls," The first officer said as she disengaged her boots from the deck and pushed off towards the corridor. "Amy, Jules will probably need you," she called as she slid through the door frame.

"Okay," the gynoid agreed, and followed.

Nei watched as Amy disappeared around the bend, then turned back to the computer and loaded the inventory list. Well stocked, indeed...

**

"We are detecting the linearity. On our present heading, seven-hundred kilometers ahead," said Amy as she studied the readouts on the sensor console.

"Speed,  fourteen KPS relative. Acceleration, negative point three. Velocity match in forty-two seconds - too soon," Amara said, at the helm. "Adjusting deceleration."

"New vector locked into the computer," she reported.

"Good. Amy, transfer sensor data to navigation," The captain said.

"Got it," Ferek responded, as a holographic image of the linearity appeared at the hyperspace navigation console. "It's a beauty," he remarked. "Nice, sharp falloff. Good cavity on the other side."

"Well, so far so good. It's where you said it would be and it's suitable," Marcus commented as he drifted past the holograph.9

"As they used to say among the hyper-navigator corps, 'finding the right linearity is forty-seven fiftieths of the success,'" Ferek commented, laughing. There was a pause before he realized that no one else 'got it'. "Uh, you see, it's funny because..."

Before he could explain the obscure joke, the computer beeped.

"Ah. We're on the linearity, captain," he said, as he shifted himself to the controls of the console.

"Good," Marcus said as he raised the voice link on his wrist. "Prepare to initiate hyperspace transfer sequence," he ordered to the engine room.

"Ready and waiting, captain," Jules responded over the intercom.

"Ready?" He asked Ferek.

"Yes. The linearity is clear and we are synchronized."

"Begin shift."

Ferek activated the hyperdrive from his console. The ship slid into hyperspace without so much as a shudder as the stars blinked out and were replaced by the absolute blackness of hyperspace. The agilian gazed intently at the detailed holographic diagrams as the ship moved along the precise course he set.

"We're on course. ETA to our exit linearity, eight hours, twenty two minutes," Ferek said, clearly pleased.

"Impressive," Marcus conceded.

Ferek nodded in agreement. "The standard Bristol Charts course from here to the Akarn system takes nearly thirty hours nowadays - they're no good in the Outback, because they don't update the data for for this region often enough. Follow any of the major standard route-books and you'll end up flying right past perfectly good linearities and ignoring channels that could shave hours off the travel time," he explained.

"Well, let's see how your shortcut works out. If we end up in Akarn in eight and a half hours, you may just find yourself a job," Marcus offered. "And if we end up spread across a cubic parsec... you won't," The captain said dryly as he scooted away.

"I'll keep it in mind."

**

The hyperdrive was the heart of the Starfire, as it was of every other star-going ship in the galaxy. The hyperdrive's technology was the overriding factor in determining the shape of the ship. Its power requirements were a very close second to those of the main engines. The care given to its design was so great that the engineers who created it were held to standards higher than those for surgical specialists.

After all, one amazingly subtle design flaw could result in the fatal dispersal of a ship and its occupants over an area larger than a solar system.

It is with good reason, then, that the hyperdrive was carefully monitored and inspected.

"Station mu six is reading point nine nine two," Amy reported to Jules, reading off the display of an instrument. The assistant engineer had it aimed at the sphere, twelve meters in diameter, that enclosed the hyperdrive.

Amy pushed off from a vertical beam and glided slowly towards the sphere.

"Hm - check for a grid irregularity," Jules suggested, his voice echoing in the cavernous main cargo bay that enclosed the ship's core. He was braced between one of the girders supporting the sphere and the drive itself, using a similar diagnostic instrument.

"I'm already checking it," Amy said, as she reached the hyperdrive's sphere and grabbed a handhold to stop herself.

"Good," Jules said. The engineer hastily grabbed a tool that was about to float out of his reach, carried by an air current. "Got to get a new mag-pod24 one of these days..." he muttered.

"What?" his assistant asked.

"Nothing. So, Amy, you planning on getting out when we land?" He asked, making small talk.

"Yes. It sounds like an unusual place," she commented. "I've read that they have some interesting volcanic activity around the port where our goods are to be delivered - the largest geyser in the Evar jurisdiction," She said, as she opened a panel on the armored outer sphere protecting the hyperdrive.

"We'll be staying for three days, so there should have some time to see it. Any other plans?"

"I don't know. Some sightseeing, whatever the rest of the crew does. Perhaps I'll purchase some local art, study the culture, or maybe foment rebellion. It's difficult to be more precise at this point."

"A rebellion?"

"Yes. As much as I appreciate the simple joy of finding a gird irregularity, I've been thinking about how interesting it would be to lead an insurrection," she said casually as she plucked a tool from her belt and touched it onto a metallic test point inside the hyperdrive shell.

"Perhaps it could be a new hobby," she added, presumably facetiously.

"Sometimes, you still scare me, Amy," Jules said.

"If I ever stop, please let me know. I don't want to become uninteresting."

"Don't worry about it. Find the irregularity?"

"Yes. I'm correcting it."

"Oh, good. Just some advice - don't mention this to the Akarni. They get all concerned when they hear talk about revolutions. Especially when it's synthetics talking that way."

"As well they should. Slavery is disaster and a disaster waiting to happen."

Jules nodded. "Does it bother you that we aren't doing more about it?"

She thought for a second. "You were implying a few moments ago that I shouldn't foment uprisings."

"No, no, that's not what I mean. There's a middle ground," Jules asserted.

"There are many middle grounds. Which one?"

"Well... I'm not sure. Any ideas?"

She shrugged. "Not yet. Maybe something will come to one of us when we get there," Amy suggested.

"'Wait and see' it is then..."

**

172549 YC

I've obtained employment as the ship's doctor on a salvage vessel, the Starfire. This is perhaps the first good fortune I've had since the xine and I parted ways in Praeleon. It is an unusually well-maintained craft.  Perhaps its crew has a unique appreciation of the importance of keeping their ship in good order. With the exceptions of myself, another agilian, and a synthetic in human form, the crew are human.

The other agilian, named Ferek Wist, has joined the ship's crew as hyperspace navigator. Of this I have mixed feelings. On one hand,  he is clearly a brilliant young man. The captain, a human called Marcus Carey, was so impressed by the his mastery of his art that he agreed to hire Ferek after just a single demonstration;  On the other, Ferek is wont to be annoying. I suppose I'll get used to him.

As of this writing, we've just entered orbit around the fourth planet of the Akarn system, which is also named Akarn. If the Starfire's engineer, Jules, is to be believed, it is populated by backward and uncivilized yokels. I'll reserve judgment until I see for myself.

Nei replaced the stylus and closed her digital tablet, returning it to one of the cabinets in her quarters. Akarn was being displayed on the video panel; it was large for an inhabited planet. It had few large oceans, but rather an abundance of small seas.

"All crew, report to the bridge," Said Amara's voice over the intercom. "We're about to dock with an Akarni inspection craft," she explained.

The doctor found this more than a little unusual. Few Outback worlds had any kind of active inspections of incoming craft. Of course, Akarn was an agricultural world - they were probably only interested in any fresh fruits or vegetables in the galley. Hopefully.

**

Inspector Amerialian Pelt of the Akarni Space Regulation Commission was a large, blading man. He carried a worn digital tablet in one hand and a stylus in the other as he drifted up from the passageway leading from the airlock and onto the bridge. He was followed his drab-colored, boxy android, and then captain Carey. The rest of the crew stood, or floated, waiting for them on the bridge.

"Mister Pelt, I don't understand why a complete spaceworthyness inspection is necessary before we make planet-fall. Our ship had its ten-thousand-hour checkout on Nova Apurelid less than a month ago. We haven't had any damage or serious..." The captain was protesting as he was interrupted by the corpulent inspector.

"Because it is a random inspection. It is necessary because every two-hundredth vessel must be inspected," he said, patience strained. "If your ship is in such good condition than you don't have anything to worry about, do you?"

"No. Of course not," Marcus said compliantly. "We just don't want to keep our Akarni client waiting."

"You're already here sixteen hours early. Messed up my schedule today, you're getting here early," The inspector griped.

"How did you know we'd be the two-hundredth ship? There are many unscheduled arrivals," Amy asked.

The inspector ignored the question. "This console up to MKS one-thirty-three standards?"

"The what standard?" Asked  Jules.

"Oh, dear. Noncompliance a sixty credit fine," He said.

"What!?"

"Don't worry. No court appearance is required. You pay it directly to me," the Inspector clarified.

"It seems somewhat anomalous that the hyper-net has no matching data for MKS-133," Said Amy, who was floating to the left of the inspector. "Nor is there any mention of it or of a fine for failing to comply with it in the Akarni Spaceworthyness Code," she added.

"How would you know? Uh, besides, its recent. Just added yesterday. And the standard is um, proprietary. Not available on the 'net."

"It hardly seems fair to ask us to comply with a virtually unknown standard that wasn't required until a day ago," Amara said. "Isn't there some kind of grace period?"

The inspector huffed. "Oh, well, I suppose I can look the other way, this time," he said, defeated.

Pelt raised his tablet and examined a list. "Have the agilians been immunized against Espridic fever?" He inquired, as his android circled about the bridge with its compressed-air maneuvering jets.

"Yes, we have. I just read the report a on the news-feed a few hours ago," Nei responded. "I'm the ship's doctor. I've just been hired, so I haven't had time to examine the crew myself, but according to their records they're in good health," she said, overlooking Ferek.

"Hmm. Good," The inspector said, almost disappointed. "Are you importing any herbaceous dicot seed from Grokkeda? You were there two months ago."

"I'm not a botanist, but not that I know of. Not as cargo, certainly - no seeds at all," the captain answered. "We sent you a complete manifest three days in advance. That more that satisfies the 'fed requirements."

"Well, you'll find that we on Akarn hold to higher standards than the Confederation. Standards for interfaces, inspections, and so on. I suppose you were just unaware of the requirement to submit manifests one working week in advance? All late manifests must be verified, I'm afraid," the inspector said in a insincere tone.

"Verified? Manually? That'll take a day!" Marcus protested.

"Just isn't any other way. Pity. We have awful problems with smugglers, you know. No respect for our laws," the man explained, as he wrote on his tablet. "Well, I suppose there is one other way. You could subcontract an Akarni hopper to come up here and take the goods you've come to deliver to the surface. Matter of fact, my brother owns a shuttle service. I could put you in touch with him."

It had, of course, dawned on Marcus that this inspector was not a paragon of  disinterested service to the public.

"And how much would he want for this service?" The captain asked.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe 25% if you let him know I sent you."

"Mister Pelt, I've checked the current version of the Akarni Shipping Codes with legal-net and it specifically says that manual verification of ship's manifests are only to be performed if there is reasonable cause to suspect smuggling. Such reasonable cause is to be documented by a warrant. Furthermore, it directly endorses the thirty-six hour advance filing of manifests as per uniform Confederation policy," Amy said to the inspector, clearly skeptical of his integrity. "Also, It is a violation of section three paragraph four of the Akarni Space Regulation Commission code of conduct for an inspector performing his or her official duties to promote a specific commercial service. As your brother is the owner of the service, it also seems to be against the spirit of the section titled 'Conflicts of Interest...'"

"What are you, a lawyer? Don't need you to quote chapter and verse at me," The inspector snapped at her.

"No, I'm not a lawyer," she replied.

"Are you, by any chance, 'Amy', the 'droid?" He asked, plainly irritated, as he glanced at the tablet.

"Yes, I'm the reason you're really here," she said flippantly. "There's no inspections of every two-hundredth ship in the policies, either. Oh, and your android does not have the reflective markings on his sharp edges that are required by your organization's safety standards."

"Maybe I don't like robots that stand out?" He said, livid.

"You won't feel that way if you hit one. Someone could get hurt like that. Also on the topic of the safety standards, there is the unfortunate matter of the maximum allowable body weight in the requirements for your position, under the title, 'Fitness for Regular Space Travel.' You clearly do not meet..."

Whack. Inspector Pelt landed a solid blow on his critic.

Although possessed of reflexes that were, by most standards, quite fast, the assistant engineer failed to see that one coming, and was propelled across the bridge.

She barely managed to recover and stop herself before slamming into a large display of reactor parameters.

"Didn't feel so bad to hit a 'droid after all!" The inspector exclaimed. "Quite satisfying!"

Ferek couldn't resist commenting on the situation - from well outside striking distance, wisely. "So, in addition to your other virtues, you also hit girls?" He asked sarcastically. Amy watched from a safe distance behind them, obviously surprised at how events had transpired.

"I have never hit a woman," The said. "Or, you may be interested in knowing, an agilian - Yet," he said threateningly.

"What right do you have to come on my ship and assault its crew?" Captain Marcus demanded angrily.

The inspector could not answer. "I'm sure it's related the the right I have to determine that you've failed this spaceworthyness inspection," he said, glaring at the captain.

"Oh what grounds?" Jules asked, outraged. "You haven't even made any legitimate inspection!"

"On the grounds of  my discretionary authority. You vessel is not spaceworthy. End of story," he huffed. "And, unspaceworthy vessels are not permitted to land on or take off from Akarni spaceports," he finished triumphantly.

"But..." Marcus began to object, but he was interrupted.

"No! No 'buts' about it. I wouldn't declare this vessel fit for a million creds."

"That comes as a surprise," Amy said, still on the other side of the bridge.

"Oh, go to the scrapyard!" he snapped.

"Well, since this inspection is over, I think you'd best get off my ship," captain Carey said. "Now."

Inspector Pelt gave one last venomous stare at Amy before heading to the bridge doors, his android following wordlessly. Suddenly, he turned around to say something... and stepped right into his android as it glided right into him at head level.

"Ow!" He exclaimed, forgetting whatever it was he was going to say and replacing it with a stream of curses directed at the machine and its kind in general as he stormed off the bridge.

Ferek smiled. "See what happens when you don't put reflective tape on them?"

**

"You know, that wasn't what I meant by a 'middle ground'"

"Sorry. The moment carried me," Amy apologized. "I did not foresee his reaction."

"I thought it might be heading in the direction it did. Sorry I didn't say anything. He deserved to be told off and frankly I was enjoying it," Jules confessed as he examined a real-time holographic cross-section of her neck. "Tilt your head to the right about ten degrees. Slowly," he instructed.

Amy did so. The mechanisms visible in the holograph moved.

"Great. The left-front structural member is twisted. It's rubbing against the actuator band. Um, move back... That's going to wear on the band until I fix it."

"I'm detecting lower than normal current flow across it."

"It could already be damaged, then," Jules worried. He muttered some indistinct maledictions against the inspector as he moved the imager generating the diagnostic holograph around to get a different angle.

"When should I have stopped?" She asked.

"Hard to say. Some point after he would have stopped trying to get us to bribe him and before you called him fat," Jules said.

Amy laughed.

"Don't laugh. This thing's all jittery as it is."

"Sorry."

"I think you were right, though, about why that inspector came. The Akarni are still angry that the Confederate court system declared their laws against off-world synthetics visiting unconstitutional," the engineer said. Adjusting a control on the imager, he got a clear view of the damaged part.

"Peh. There's a two-millimeter abrasion in it."

"Oh, dear, two millimeters. Will I live?"

"It's not funny. I don't know how to fix this. I wish whoever had made you had used standardized parts... I don't know where we're going to find a replacement for this thing."

"No doubt doctors wish organics had easily interchangeable parts, too."

"Probably," he agreed, moving the imager back to its rest position in the engineering bay. "But those of us who practice on the mechanicals of the world have become a bit spoiled in that regard."

"Do you think you can stabilize the damage?" Amy asked, "My neck hurts."

"Well, don't feel it then," he suggested. "I think I repair the band enough to prevent further damage - assuming you avoid being punched in the face again -  but I've got to prepare the ship to come in at sea, since we aren't being allowed to use any of their spaceports."

His assistant nodded. "I can shut off  those actuators and put up with a stiff neck for a while, I suppose."

"Glad you understand..."

"Jules, I want to see you in my office," captain Carey called over the intercom.

**

Captain Marcus Carey looked out through the portal at the green planet below. He stared at a large storm on one of the tropical land masses.

"You wanted to talk to me, captain?" Jules asked, as he walked into the office.

"I'm sorry Amy got hit. If I'd taken your advice about the roster, we wouldn't have got a visit from inspector hick, would we?"

"I can't really say for sure. You did what you thought was right."

"If we ever have to come back to this place, I'll go ahead and list her as 'human'. Maybe we'll avoid some trouble. Not like they could tell anyway."

"Probably not. Is there anything you need me to do? Preparations for splashdown shouldn't take more than a few hours."

Marcus nodded. "No, that's good. Just... " He hesitated.

"Yes?"

"Try to keep her from getting into trouble on Akarn."

"I'll be more worried about keeping myself out of trouble," the ship's engineer joked. "But I'll try, captain."

"I'm sure things will go just fine."

**

Fortunately, the Akarni town of New Herswiln, where the Starfire was to deliver its goods, was a coastal port. No long overland journey would be necessary.

Unfortunately, it was raining heavily. The humidity was very unpleasant. Amy, Jules, and Ferek unloaded boxes of cargo from the Starfire's skiff onto a truck as the captain spoke with the dock master.

"Fine. It's forty credits for the truck and ten a day for docking," the man almost shouted to overcome the sound of the pounding rain.

Marcus nodded to confirm his agreement as he reached under his raincoat to get his tablet. "Account?" he asked, operating the tablet.

"Seven six five four eight," The dock master answered.

"Okay. Sixty credits transferred," Marcus said, showing the tablet display to him. He wiped the water drops from the screen and put it back in his pocket after the dock master acknowledged the transaction.

"Pleasure doing business with you," the captain said, as he walked out onto the dock. About three fourths of the boxes were already loaded into the truck's bed.

"We're staying for two days... hopefully, this weather will let up soon," Marcus informed the rest of the party as he examined the label on one of the crates.

"The place we're delivering this stuff to is on the outskirts. It shouldn't take too long to get there, though. This isn't a big place," he explained. He turned to help with the last crate, which was exceptionally large. He and Ferek eased it into the truck bed and closed the gate.

The rain was not at all reduced in intensity. In fact, it had probably increased slightly. The four crew members gladly piled into the vehicle's cabin.

Marcus, in the driver's seat, handed his tablet to Jules. "There's the map," he said as he switched on the truck and pulled onto the road.

"All right. We're on... Dock Street. We need to find the intersection of this

and Main Street. It's perpendicular," Jules said, rotating the tablet.

The vehicle rolled smoothly along street, passing the row of structures and warehouses associated with the docks.

Ferek looked out his window. Humans and occasional androids, in the same configuration as the inspector's28, carried on with their activities despite the weather. These storms must not be terribly uncommon, he realized, since the people were clearly accustomed to it.

"What exactly are we delivering, anyway?" The agilian navigator asked.

"According to the labels, mostly electronic parts and some demolition explosives," Amy answered. "To a small construction company."

"What do they need electronic parts for?"

She shrugged. "Not our business to ask."

"Yeah, I guess not."

"Okay, captain, turn left here," Jules said, pointing to Main Street.

He nodded and turned the truck onto the road. The rain was fairly pouring down by the bucket-full now.

"Should we stop?" Ferek asked. "I can't see twenty feet ahead."

"I can see fine," Marcus insisted as they determinedly forged ahead. "Besides, it's not much farther, and the weather can only get better at this point."

Ferek shifted back in the seat. "Okay."

Something moved in front of them. Marcus slammed on the brakes, bringing the truck to a halt in the muddy road. "What? Some idiot's out in the street!"

Jules looked through the tempestuous storm and saw one of the Akarni-style androids, waving its arms and holding a tablet. "It's one of their androids. It's trying to get our attention."

"What now?" The captain wondered aloud as he opened the window.

"You there! What is it?" He called to the android. It came running to the window.

"Are you the people delivering a shipment for R. Keir Stono29?" The humanoid machine asked, handing Marcus the tablet.

"Yes. Electronic parts and explosives from Praeleon VI," Marcus said, looking at the tablet. "This is it. You work for our client?"

"I do, sir. My master has had a change of address since placing the order and I'm here to guide you to the new location," The mechanical being explained.

"Oh, okay. Uh, the truck only seats four. One of us will have to..."

"I'll stay, if you don't mind, captain," Amy volunteered. "I'd like to look around. It seems like a quaint little settlement."

Marcus briefly hesitated. "Fine. Call us for pickup. And be careful," The captain said to her as she got out of the truck.  Keir's android walked around and got in behind Jules.

"Sorry for the inconvenience, sirs, but the new building isn't in the address registers yet."

"Why not just send coordinates?"

"I'm sure that my master has a very good reason for  choosing this method," the servile machine answered.

"Doesn't matter much to us. Which way?" The captain asked, as they pulled away.

"Forward. Take a left two intersections ahead," it replied.

The captain acknowledged the instruction and followed the path that the android gave him. It took another fifteen minutes before it finally announced that they had arrived.

"Thank you, sir. You don't have to get out, my master's other androids and I will unload the truck. Farewell," It said, as it disembarked.

The crew waited as the rain beat down unrelentingly around them. Ten or fifteen androids quickly unloaded the truck and carried the boxes off into the mist.

"Rain's so thick I can't see the building they're going into..." Jules remarked.

"There's an orange light up there. Must be it," Marcus said, pointing.

"I haven't seen one organic worker yet. This guy must be running his whole business with slaves," Jules remarked disapprovingly. "How does the Confederation put up with this? How do we put up with this?"

"It's not our problem," the captain said. "Nothing we can do. I wish there were, too," he said remorsefully.

"We could at least not be making deliveries to slave-owners."

"I didn't know, Jules," The captain sighed. "A deal is a deal."

Jules shook his head. "I suppose so."

One of the androids came up to the window of the truck. It held a tablet to the window. "The rest of the payment is transferred. Three killocreds. Thanks," it said.

Marcus acknowledged, and they headed back down the slippery, muddy ruts that passed for a road.

"I hope this weather improves. Not going to make for a very interesting bit of shore leave if it doesn't," Ferek said, trying to move the conversation to a lighter note. "But after spending the last seven months in space, any solid ground - well, even semi-solid ground - is an improvement."

**

Amy stepped over an especially deep water-flow in the center of an alley. It seemed that no one had given much thought to drainage, and in the absence of proper gutters, the water was simply following a slightly winding path downhill.

 

The rain, of course, continued to pour down unrelentingly. Amy didn't particularly mind. Her raincoat was quite effective, and she was waterproof anyway.

She continued to walk along the alley. Steam rose from the vents of a restaurant with its rear wall facing the alley. The structure looked quite run down. Such was its dilapidation that Amy wondered how it was able to stand up against the weather at all. Still, it was a homey little building, with an inviting orange glow coming from the kitchen window. She decided to take a picture.

Amy removed her camera17 from her pocket and snapped a photo of the restaurant's rear wall. She was about to move on when an old woman lifted up the window.

"You!"

Amy turned around. "Yes?"

"Mind telling me what's so interesting about this restaurant that you want to go taking pictures of it?"

"Oh. I thought it was homey. I'm visiting from off-world," she answered.

"Heh! Homey! Well, that's a nice way of putting it," the chef said. "Want to come in for a bit? You'll catch a cold if you go out walking around in the middle of a storm."

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt," Amy said, and walked towards the door. The chef  let her in and took her coat.

The inside of the restaurant was also in a state of decay, and it was rather uncomfortably warm given the humidity. Amy hoped that no-one would notice that she was not perspiring.

The restaurant was decorated with the preserved remains of hundreds of sea creatures, their shells and sometimes bodies in dozens of cabinets and jars next to the tables. Amy seated herself at one of them.

"You want something to drink?" The chef asked.

"Just water, please," Amy asked.

"Water?" The chef laughed. "Okay."

Amy examined the specimens in the cabinet. They were carefully labeled with their names, the location where they were collected, and by whom. The largest shell, sitting beside a transparent flask that contained a preserved  octopus-like creature, had a particularly deadly-looking set of spines attached to a hemispherical shell. It was aptly named the "Baneful Sea-caltrop18".

As she admired the obvious efficacy of the creature's defense - noting, however, that it had not protected it from ending up here - a dark-haired young man pushed open the front door and came in. He was awkwardly holding three large bags stuffed with groceries.

"About time you got back here, Albert," the chef chided him as he brought the bags to her. "Thought you'd gotten lost."

"No madam. The weather impeded faster progress."

"Forgivable, I suppose. Really pouring out there. Here, take this to her," the chef said, handing Albert the water. "And give her a menu."

He took one from a small stack of worn menus and put both the it and the water in front of Amy.

"Hello," she greeted him.

"Hello. Our soup of the day is vegetable-glorf..."

"It's alright. I'm just stopping in out of the rain for a little while," She said. "I'm visiting Akarn from off-world. Your restaurant seemed interesting."

"I hope you enjoy your vacation," Albert said.

"It's not really a vacation, I'm the assistant engineer on a salvage ship. We're here to deliver some supplies."

"Sounds like an interesting job."

"It is satisfactory," said Amy. "I get to see many different places, and technical work interests me. How about you? Been working here long?"

"Seven years, three months, eighteen days," He said sadly. "My master doesn't have any use for me but working here at his sister's resturant."

"Master? You aren't an organic? Or have they started enslaving organics here too?" Amy asked, surprised.

"No. I'm an android," he said.

"Remarkable. I know of only one other synthetic with your level of realism," She commented, trying to conceal her amazement at meeting what might be another of her own kind. "May I ask where you came from?"

"I'm sorry, madam, but I am instructed to never discuss my origins. Please forgive my inability to answer your question. You may ask the chef, but she won't tell you anything, I'm afraid," Albert the android replied dejectedly.

"Albert, don't be bothering that customer with your fool stories," The chef shouted from the kitchen, having been eavesdropping.

"Oh, he's not bothering me. As you apparently should know," Amy said, irritated at the intrusion, "I'm an engineer. Cybernetics is... an interest of mine."

"We just picked up that 'droid at a flea market. I don't know where he came from. Don't worry yourself about it," the chef insisted.

"Found him at a flea market?" Amy asked skeptically.

"Yes. I know it was a good deal," the chef repeated. "Four kilocreds. Pricey for a 'droid but a good deal for that one."

"What more do you know about him?" Amy inquired.

"I said, don't you worry about my 'droid. Isn't your problem where he comes from," The chef said with a note of finality.

"Do you want to sell him?"

"What would an offworlder want with him? You can't own them off Akarn."

"I'm well aware of that. I'll give you the price you paid plus five hundred credits," Amy offered, hoping to buy the android's freedom.

"No. He's not for sale. No respectable restaurant uses regular 'droids for waiters and you couldn't pay a human to work for more than a few months on that money," the chef stated.  

"Eight thousand, then; I'll even help you find an organic waiter to hire for the job."

"No. That's final, he's not for sale. Not at any price. He'll still be waiter-ing for free long after I'd have spent whatever you paid. What do you want with him, anyway?"

"Fine, then," Amy said, feigning defeat. "Goodbye," she said, leaving out the front door.

It wasn't over yet, of course. She had already begun to think about the problem as she put on her coat and walked off the porch. The fundamental issue here - get something from someone who doesn't want to give it up - was one that came up countless times in history. There was no shortage of potential solutions that had been tested at one time or another.

Amy walked up the sidewalk in the rain, which had subsided partially, thinking. The brute force solution of simply stealing Albert from the restaurant would obviously leave no doubt about her involvement. Of course, Starfire's presence here was not documented, whereas there were several ships at the local spaceport. If she waited until they were about to leave... that could work. But it was still too obvious. Amy decided to hold that plan in reserve.

Could Albert be enticed to run away on his own, without apparent intervention? It seemed doubtful... But he did likely visit the town market on a daily basis to buy fresh seafood and other supplies. There might be an opportunity to talk to him there. Amy decided to make this the primary plan.

There could also yet be hope for a diplomatic solution. Perhaps Jules could be helpful. Amy contacted him with her internal transceiver.

Jules, this is Amy. Where are you? She asked silently as she continued to walk up the street.

Amy? We're headed back from our delivery. We're going to return the truck to the guy we rented it from at the docks. How are you doing? He asked, his voice audible to her only.

I've just made an amazing discovery. There is a restaurant here with an android in it that is as apparently as realistic as I am. I had no idea he was a synthetic until he told me he was the chef's slave,  She reported.

Wow! That is amazing. Did the chef want to part with him? Jules asked, obviously on the same track.

No. I offered eight thousand but she refused. We have to free him somehow. The owner says he was from a swap-meet, but I don't think she is telling the truth, Amy replied.

I can't imagine she would.

We aren't going to let that stop us, are we? I need your help.

Jules hesitated.

Um, No... Maybe we should...

He was cut off before he could finish.

What?

**

"Don't tell her we're going to do something about it, Jules!" Marcus said emphatically. He grabbed the phone.

"Amy, this is captain Carey. Listen; do not do anything right now!" He ordered.

"I'm not doing anything to rectify the situation at the moment. Don't worry, I'm not holding the chef at gun-point and requesting pick-up," she replied.

"Good. Keep it that way. The last thing we need is more trouble with these hicks and this whole synthetics issue seems to be a real sore spot for them."

"Don't worry. I am confidant that we can find a non-violent solution to this problem," Amy replied diplomatically.

"There isn't a problem. It isn't a problem because it isn't our problem. Do you understand?"

"I understand what you said."

"That's good. We'll be staying at an inn near the docks tonight. I'll send you co-ordinates," Marcus concluded. "Meet us there tonight."

"Yes, sir."

"Marcus out," he finished, pressing a button on the communications device.

"Captain, I was only..." Jules began.

"Never mind. Look, I know that you'd like to have another one like Amy around too. But not if it means liberating somebody's slave by force. You think Inspector Pelt was bad..."

"I know, captain. Remember, I've been here before..." Jules replied.

Marcus nodded. "Oh yeah. I remember now. To protest their having slaves, right?"

"That's right."

"I think it's pretty awful too, Jules. Just not something we can fix. These people are stuck in their rut. They're spoiled, getting something for nothing."

Ferek, who had, up to this point just been listening quietly in the back of the truck, spoke up. "Can we just see the other android? If it is as interesting as Amy, I'm sure I'd love to talk to it."

"It's asking for trouble," Marcus replied. "What if  he is interesting? Then are all three of you going to be pushing me to make a daring commando raid on some restaurant?"

"Probably," The navigator admitted.

"Well, you're honest at least."

"Lies don't suit a mathematician. I seek the absolute truth."

"Captain, I'd like to point out that this android might be able to shed some light on where exactly Amy came from, also. It would be very nice to have that cleared up," Jules added.

Marcus sighed. "Well, I guess... this is against my better judgment... Tell Amy that we'll meet her at that restaurant. Ask her where it is..."

**

"Check," Amara said, as she slid the chess-piece forward on the magnetized board36. It was a critical point in the game, she had just gained the upper hand.

Nei studied the situation thoughtfully as the planned her move.

"So, what do you suppose the others are up to?" The first officer asked her as she leaned back in her chair and looked around the Starfire's rec-room. The whole ship rocked gently back and forth in the ocean.

"I haven't the foggiest idea. I don't know them well yet and I know even less of this planet apart from what I've heard from Jules, second-hand through Ferek. If what he's told me is true, the whole party has probably been burnt at the stake for heresy," Nei exaggerated.

Amara chuckled. "You're Atherian30 is really good. Are you a native speaker, or did the agilians burn heretics at the stake too?"

"Both, actually. Agilia Mirana is about a quarter human, I've been speaking this language almost as long as I've been speaking Akirilau19. But yes, we burned people at the stake, too," she explained. "Traitors mostly, though. Not so many heretics."

The first officer nodded. "You'd think it would have been a good deterrent."

The doctor moved one of her pieces to protect her king.

"Hard to tell - maybe it was. Your turn."

Amara looked at the board.

"So, the rest of the crew will be back the day after tomorrow?" Nei asked. "Assuming, of course, that they aren't burnt at the stake."

"They should be. Depends on the weather. If the storm outside doesn't let up, they won't be able to come back. We'll either have to go get them in the shuttle, or just wait."

**

The rented truck pulled up to the curb of the street in front of the dilapidated restaurant where Albert worked. Marcus saw Amy standing next to it, waiting.

"This is it?" The captain asked as he got out of the truck and lifted up the hood of his coat. The rain was still coming down fairly hard. He pointed at the restaurant.

"Yes," she confirmed as she walked onto the sidewalk. "The android's name is Albert. Oh, the chef knows we're offworlders, but not that I'm a synthetic."

"Well, here we are," Marcus said as Ferek and Jules unloaded. "Let's go."

The four of them opened the door of the establishment and were at once greeted by a blast of warm air carrying the scent of deep-fried ocean life.

The chef, watching from the opening between the kitchen and seating area, noticed them. "You again?" She asked, addressing Amy with a displeased tone.

"My friends would like to visit Albert," she explained. "This is captain Marcus Carey, the ship's chief engineer Jules Bisping, and our hyperspace navigator, Ferek Wist," she introduced them.

"Charmed. You all going to want something to eat or did you just come to inspect my 'droid?" She asked, suspicious.

"I could use a bite to eat," Ferek said. "But I'd really like to see this synthetic first."

The chef looked them over. "Sorry. Albert is busy now. I... sent him to buy some fresh fish at the docks," she said.

"I very much doubt that the fishermen will have been out recently, the weather being as bad as it is," Jules commented, exposing the transparent lie.

"Look here. Albert's mine and I don't have to show him to anybody who asks. Now, if you'd like to order something to eat, then do so, but if you're just here to loiter about on account of..."

The chef was interrupted by the arrival of Albert from behind her, who had just came in from the back door. He was carrying an empty trash-can.

"Are you Albert?" Asked Ferek, as he walked up to meet the android. Jules, Amy, and Marcus started to move towards him as well.

"Hey -- Albert, go back into the kitchen. Never mind the trash," the chef barked at him.

Albert reluctantly complied. "I'm sorry," He apologized - more in the direction of the Starfire's crew than his owner.

"Okay. All of you, get out. I've had enough..." she ordered, irritated.

"Answer one question. Does Albert have something like this under those odd arm-bands he's wearing?" Amy asked, as she slid her watch a bit further down her arm to reveal an unusual marking. In reflective silver-and-black lettering, it read RX-AM-3 AMY.

The chef's reaction came as a surprise.

"Oh no. You're another one. Oh no... Look, really, I didn't steal that 'droid, I swear I didn't..." She stammered, barely able to keep herself composed.

Amy was as baffled as the rest of the crew. Jules decided to go with the flow.

"Sure, you didn't. And where exactly did you get him, then?" The engineer asked in his best menacing voice.

She looked reluctant. "You won't kill me, will you? I haven't told anyone about it, I swear to you. I'll take it to my grave, on my word."

"Co-operate and there's hope for you," Ferek suggested, playing along.

"Fine, I'll do anything. I didn't get him at a swap-meet. He wandered here on his own. He was... trusting. I had a control transponder installed and kept him for a waiter," she confessed.

Jules shook his head. "You disgust me."

"Here, take it," the chef said, trembling with fear as she removed a rod bearing several buttons from her apron and handed it over to Jules. "Please just take him and go. I never wanted any trouble with the Agency. I know I should have turned him in, but I didn't know who to call and I needed a waiter... it was a moment of weak..."

She was cut off in mid-sentence as two armed Akarnis burst in through the entrance.

"You!" One of them shouted, and pointed at the captain. "That your truck outside?" He demanded sharply.

"It's not mine, it's a rental," Marcus said calmly. At least the man didn't have his shotgun pointed at anyone. Yet. "Something the matter?"

"Is it parked illegally?" Ferek asked sarcastically.

Suddenly, the chef seized the opportunity, ducked and ran back into the kitchen and out the rear door. They let her go.

"You bet something's 'the matter', offworlder. You want to explain why you delivered a ton of spare parts and bomb-making supplies to revolting farm 'bots?" He asked, obviously furious. Outside the restaurant, Jules could see a mob of thirty or so angry Akarnis, some of them with weapons, others with only furious expressions.

Amy slowly moved behind Jules and quietly began to retrieve her weapon as they talked. Ferek noticed and stood in front of a mirror that might have revealed the action to their antagonists.

"There must be some misunderstanding. We were just here to deliver some supplies to a construction company..." Marcus began to explain.

"No use lying. Two of our boys saw you doing it. One of the rebel machines was in the truck. We're going to have to take you into custody," he said, starting to raise his shotgun.

A green dot appeared on the forehead of the vigilante. "Stop. Drop your weapon and put your hands in the air," Amy demanded as she stepped out from behind Jules. She pointed a laser gun at the Akarni.

Ferek quickly drew his own weapon and covered the other armed vigilante. The first stopped raising his weapon, but did not put it down.

"Okay, let's not do anything rash," Marcus advised, thinking quickly. "Now, if you've got some problem with us, " he said, addressing the Akarni, "we can wait for the legitimate police to get here and handle this..."

A shot was fired from outside, shattering the window of the restaurant. Ferek dropped his weapon and fell to the floor.

The first Akarni vigilante reacted, raising his weapon --

And then he was struck in the forehead by a laser beam in the next instant. He fell, dead. Marcus, closest to the other man, grabbed his shotgun and struggled briefly with him before Amy's second shot dispatched the vigilante.

Jules ducked under the window, taking cover behind the specimen cases and crawling over to Ferek. He had taken a hit to his right arm, but did not appear seriously injured. He moaned something unintelligible as Jules pulled him to the relative safety of the kitchen.

Marcus kicked a table over in the way of the door, as several members of the mob prepared to rush in. Another shot, fired from outside, barely missed him.

"Everybody, get to the kitchen!" He shouted, as he ducked and ran for its door behind the counter.  Amy followed the captain, firing a third shot and hitting the first Akarni climbing the table as she retreated into the kitchen.

Marcus and Amy quickly closed the kitchen door and bolted it. Albert, who had been quietly waiting in the kitchen, spoke. "Am I to go with you?"

"Yes," Marcus said, as he opened the rear door and checked to make sure there wasn't anyone waiting for them. "This is your lucky day, it seems... not ours. Jules, can Ferek walk?"

"I think so," the agilian replied, as Jules helped him to his feet.

With a crash, the Akarni started to batter the door open.

"Go, go!" Marcus said, sending Amy and Albert out the door. Jules assisted Ferek in escaping.

Suddenly, as the party exited onto the muddy alley, a few enterprising members of the mob rounded the corner. One of them aimed his laser-repeater at Albert, and was about to fire, when Marcus used the appropriated shotgun to bring an end to their clever strategy. The energy-weapon the attacking Akarni held was shorted out by the metallic shot and exploded with a fiery yellow burst of energy.

"Amy, call Amara and tell her we need pickup, now!" He said, throwing away the discharged hunting weapon in favor of his own laser. "We'll meet her at the docks," he explained, and gestured for the crew to follow him as he headed down the alley. "If they haven't destroyed the skiff, we'll take it."

I knew this was asking for trouble...

**

Starfire's shuttle sped through the turbulent atmosphere at a speed that was a tad too high to be called 'safe' in any weather. Amara Var was in the pilot's chair, concentrating on keeping the small craft stable. It had been designed with atmospheric flight in mind, but it was also a spacecraft and the designers had made several compromises to accommodate the dual role, making it difficult to handle.

In the other cockpit seat, Nei Tewaus looked through a hastily-packed bag of medical supplies. "I forgot the thermal cauterizer," she complained. "Is there a first aid kit on this thing?"

"In the back," Amara answered, looking ahead intently through the rainstorm. A vague, green outline of land was visible ahead.

The doctor got up to get the kit, and was nearly thrown off her feet when Amara banked the shuttle sharply and turned parallel to the coast.

"Hey!" Nei complained, picking herself up and holding onto the passenger seats for support as she made her way backwards.

"We're approaching the co-ordinates. Get ready to open the door," Amara said.

"Amara, " the voice of Marcus began to speak over the radio. "We're in the water. They're firing at us from the shore... we need help, now!"

"We're about a kilometer away. I just saw a beam," Amara replied. "That from them or you?"

"It's us. They've got guns. Put the shuttle between them and us," he ordered.

"Aye, captain. We're coming in..." Amara pitched the shuttle downward, slowing down. She could see the Starfire's skiff floating below.

"I see you."

The shuttle hit the water at a very slight angle, producing a splash of seawater as it decelerated.

A bullet fired from the shore struck the shuttle, but was deflected off the hull.

Nei opened the door facing the skiff, now protected by the presence of the shuttle. The crest of a particularly large wave splashed into the interior as Marcus steered the skiff towards the shuttle.

Another shot bounced off the shuttle. It was much easier to see through the storm than the skiff had been.

The craft bumped against the shuttle's hull, and Nei pulled Jules aboard. The two of them then helped Ferek into the shuttle.

"Any other casualties?" Nei asked, seeing a person laying motionless in the skiff.

"You can't help this one," Marcus said, as he and Amy lifted the inert body of Albert into the shuttle. The android had been shot  in the head by the Akarni, the wound exposing the delicate electronic systems inside his skull.

Finally, Amy and the captain climbed out of the skiff. There was no way of towing it back with the shuttle, and it was too large to fit onboard. Marcus pressed a button, and the outer doors closed.

"Okay, we're in. Make a pass and sink the skiff - it has the ship's ID on it," he ordered, turning to speak to Amara, still in the pilot's seat. She nodded and took the shuttle's  engines out of standby mode. The small craft jetted across the water for a few dozen meters and then took to the air. Another round from the Akarni, this one a good deal larger than the previous ones, struck the hull with an audible thump. The motion-transmission field diffused its energy harmlessly as a tiny jolt.

The doctor worked quickly to treat Ferek's injury as Jules examined the damage to Albert in the good light of the shuttle's passenger compartment.

"The neural-network simulator is destroyed," the engineer observed, peeling back the synthetic scalp to reveal the extent of the damage. There were tiny, crystalline shards of what was once a highly sophisticated computer spread throughout the site of the injury. "He's dead."

**

MSV Starfire cruised through the black void of space, far away from Akarn IV. Ferek Wist, his wounded arm bandaged and secured in a microgravity-sling20, floated in front of the hyperspace console. He used his good arm to press some of the controls, and the hyperspace map holograph was replaced with an Akarni news broadcast.

".., And in other news, New Herswiln, a hotbed of the Robot Insurrection on the eastern continent, was the site of an armed battle between off-world smugglers supplying the Insurrectionists and the Herswilnian volunteer militia," the Akarni newscaster reported. The image switched to a recording showing some of the mob firing at Starfire's crew as they ran behind a warehouse.

"Five militiamen were killed in the conflict, and another three were injured non-fatally. James Fortin, the owner of the local docks, was caught in the crossfire and later died in the hospital despite heroic efforts of local doctors. It is believed that at least two of the smugglers were killed, and another was wounded," the newscaster continued, "but the survivors escaped via a small boat from the docks and were apparently retrieved by an orbital shuttle," he explained, as the footage shown changed to show the shuttle, somewhat indistinct because of the distance and weather conditions, coming between the militia sharpshooters on the shore and Starfire's landing party at sea.

"Although the authorities have several good descriptions of the smugglers, none of the video shot during the altercation shows their faces, and the militia is seeking anyone who has knowledge of the identity of these criminals, or their ship," The reporter said, as the station displayed a few composite sketches of the crew. "One of the smugglers said to be a remarkably realistic synthetic resembling a young human woman, with red or brown hair, pale skin, and a distinctive marking on her wrist, consisting of silver-and-black letters. Another smuggler is a dark-skinned young agilian male with black hair, and he may have a wounded arm. All the smugglers should be considered armed and extremely dangerous; the militia has posted a three point seven five killocred bounty on each smuggler alive, or a flat three kilocreds dead," the newscaster said, as the graphic changed to show a spacecraft - not the Starfire, Ferek noted with relief.

"This vessel, the MSV Watcher Darkly, which took off without proper authorization from the New Herswiln spaceport shortly after the smugglers were retrieved by the shuttle, may be associated with them. The vessel was last detected heading in the direction of the Akarn-D823 linearity, connecting to a major hyperspace conduit. It has not been seen since, but the militia has placed a ten-kilocred bounty on the ship,  on top of the bounties for the individual smugglers, if it is delivered with all hands to Akarn," the newscaster concluded.

"Well, captain, we were fortunate, this time," Ferek commented, as he drifted to the other side of the bridge, where Marcus was looking over some data displayed on a console.

"How exactly?" The captain asked.

"Akarnis think that some other ship has us on it. Landing in the ocean instead of at the spaceport ended up working out to our advantage..." He commented. "They don't know who we are, either. No pictures of our faces. They do have decent descriptions of us, though..."

"I imagine they do," Marcus said. "But it's a big universe out there. Boggles the mind, how many people are bound to look just like us."

"Let's hope the bounty hunters find them first," Ferek said fatalistically. "We've all got a three kilocred bounty on our heads, dead. Only seven-hundred and fifty more alive."

"Great. Well, won't be the first time," Marcus said.

"Hua?"

"Never mind. How's the arm?"

"Better. Doctor Tewaus is quite skilled," he responded.

"You would think this wouldn't be quite up the alley of a doctor who's been doing pharmaceutical research for the last several years," Marcus commented as he looked at the sling.

Ferek nodded. "Yeah, I'm not complaining though."

"Neither am I. Just seems a little strange." The captain paused. "So, how long to you estimate it will be until we get to Evar?"

"Thirty-six hours if we use the, uh, my personal charts. That's twelve hours less than the route in Bristol's."

"Good work," Marcus commended the young man. "Keep it up and I'll see that some more of the money we save ends up in your pay," he offered.

"Glad to see that I'm being useful here," Ferek replied.
**

The partially-disassembled mortal remains of Albert the android lay strapped on a table in the Starfire's engineering bay. Bright light from the high-intensity lamps above illuminated the mechanical autopsy. It had not taken them long to confirm that the android was of the same basic variety as Amy, but there was still quite a bit of work ahead of them.

"Where'd the dikes go?" Jules asked, pulling on a part inside the dead synthetic's torso that was attached by wires.

"They're over there," Amy responded, pointing at a pair of diagonal cutters floating to the left of Jules' head.

"Those things keep getting away from me," he complained as he retrieved the tool and used it to cut the part free. He handed to his assistant, who inspected it.

"Oh, the DC-DC converter for the internal computer," she said, taking the part to the drawers lining the walls of the repair facility.

"Put it in P-14," Jules said, referring to one of the labeled compartments as he noted it on his tablet.  She did so and then returned to the table.

"It's frustrating to come so close to, perhaps, finding the identity of my creator, and then have this happen," she said as she helped Jules remove the fasteners from a large subsystem. "I wish I could have done something to avoid it," she said regretfully.

The senior engineer nodded in agreement. "I'm pretty disappointed too. Albert here wasn't even the one shooting them," he said.

With some effort, Jules pulled the sub-assembly free. "This looks identical to yours," he commented. He then turned the part over to reveal a large label. "I've never had you disassembled enough to see that, though."

They looked at the tag. It read: RX-AM-4 Assembly1023, Tested 255/131, Revision 4.

Below the label was a signature, reading "Fhitor."

"Interesting," Amy commented. "Fhitor sounds like a xine name."

"Odd," he commented, as he sat the assembly aside and let it float motionlessly on his right, where another large part was already stationed.

Jules looked into the almost empty abdominal cavity of the disassembled android. He lifted one of the muscle bands out, detaching it from the frame. He examined the translucent blue strip. "I wondered where I was going to get more of these. Sure aren't like anything you'll find in a Bot-hut23," he commented. "Well, I don't think Albert would have objected to being an organ donor, do you?"

"I doubt it, although obviously I didn't get to know him very well, and have a conflict of interest in making that assessment," she responded. "But then, you already appropriated his secondary storage battery to fix your broken mag-pod, so I doubt you're seriously asking."

"That's a noble purpose too. You'll agree after you find out how handy those things are."

"I'm not saying it isn't," she replied, "but in any case I don't understand the preoccupation some people have with bodies, synthetic or otherwise."

"It's hard to describe... especially for me, I've never 'gotten' it either. Where did those dikes go now?" Jules looked around, locating the uncooperative cutters inside the android.

"I'm sorry things got so out of hand... I feel somewhat responsible for what happened."

"Don't. Those vigilantes came because of our delivery, not because of us going to see Albert," he reminded her. "We can all be proud, really. We ended up helping the brave people who are fighting to destroy the barbaric Akarni labor system."

"I killed at least three people. I don't exactly feel proud about that."

"They fired first. Legitimate self-defense even if they didn't deserve it anyway. Those militias are mostly there to keep the androids down, not to protect justice," Jules said, as he detached the last of a series of bands connecting the deceased synthetic's head to his neck. The engineer paused to examine it in the light.

"I suppose we couldn't have gone quietly."

"No," Jules concluded, placing the part in his pocket. "We'd be dead by now if we had. The legitimate authorities wouldn't have ever turned up. They never do. Most of those vigilante groups have 'an understanding' with the police such that they will look the other way."

"In retrospect, " Amy said, "It could have gone a lot worse."

He nodded. "Maybe our fortunes are actually improving..."

**

Nei Tewaus, in her quarters, turned on her tablet and opened her journal. She began to write:

172550 YC

I don't know what I've gotten myself into now.  Today, the ship's first officer and I had to travel through a terrible storm in a shuttle-craft to rescue the rest of the crew, who were attacked by an angry mob on Akarn. We fled the planet and are now hoping that, since several members of the mob were killed in defense, they do not figure out who we were from whatever personal effects were left on the planet. Wonderful. Ferek was injured in the attack, I extracted a slug from his right arm. Glad to discover that I'm not rusty after all those months treating only xine.

Of course, I don't have any right to complain about this, given my own legal situation. I just wished I'd picked a safer ship!  

We're headed to the Evar system, one of the first human colonies in this region. Hopefully, it will prove to be a less dangerous place.

END

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