《Other-Terrestrial Episode 11 - "Masquerade"》


 Episode 11 - Part 1

    Captain''s Log:


    Today is Darkeve.


    This old holiday, originating among early spacer societies out in the void, was apocryphally considered a cursed date when a terrible accident befell one of the original twelve Seed Fleets, the Children of the Stars.


    While there''s no evidence that a singular event caused the breakup of that fleet, the holiday has still become connected to it in such a deep way that it is universally accepted on a cultural level. Over time the holiday took on a more light-hearted tone and went from a solemn day of remembrance to a day for children and adults alike to dress up to scare away the demons of the Dark.


    It remains one of the more popular holidays, and costume-creation is a cottage industry on the Craton, with many trying to outdo each other in complexity and creativity.


    So long as it does not affect the ship negatively, I am quite fine with the celebrations. Who doesn''t enjoy a chance to have a party? Aside from Jaya and myself, that is. Though in my case I am somewhat duty-bound to make an appearance and wear a costume, being the Mayor as well as Captain.


    Ah, well. At least it''s not a fancy party filled with people who hate me.


    *******


    Apollonia felt a strange mix of embarrassment and pride as she stepped into the bustling hall.


    Sure, she was dressed in a green tube of foam from her neck down to her waist, which gave her the appearance of a fat green bean.


    Her legs had a spiderweb of crinkled and rolled brown paper, which she hoped anyone who laid eyes on would recognize as roots, and with the large green leaves she''d strapped to her arms, the illusion was nearly complete.


    But it was the huge and round yellow flower she was wearing about her head that she hoped would make immediately clear that she was not a green ravioli or bean, but a wonderfully cheerful Earth sunflower.


    A few people glanced at her as she went down the halls, some giving her curious looks and others smiling. Many were themselves decked out in costumes that, while she could admire the craft, seemed far less clever than hers.


    But as she went further, seeing more and more costumes, she started to have a nervous realization; some people had put remarkably more time and effort into their costumes. Many were quite clever and creative too, incorporating drones, lights, specially-printed materials, and even holographic projectors.


    She started to feel a little silly in her flower outfit, but took a deep breath and puffed out her chest. She was Apollonia the Sunflower today, this was her first Darkeve she''d ever gotten to really celebrate, and she wasn''t going to let anything dampen her mood!


    The halls were packed with people, a situation she normally hated, but one that today at least she could tolerate.


    A tiny sound of tinkling metal on metal caught her ear, though. She would know that sound no matter the ambient noise, and she stopped before homing in on it.


    "Angel!" she cried happily as she saw the tiny spot of fuzz near people''s feet.


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    The ship terrier''s ears perked up at the call, and she dashed between the legs of several crewmen, who yelped in alarm.


    "Angel, wait!" another voice cried, but Apollonia did not see who; she crouched and tried to catch the little dog in her arms.


    "Awwww ohmygod you''re so cute!"


    Angel, the small ship terrier was nearly a blur, her tail and rear end waggling so hard that she seemed twice as wide as normal.


    The outfit the dog was wearing only enhanced the effect; a tube of yellow and black cloth down her body, a pair of bouncy black antennae on her head, and two round, light blue wings on her back.


    She was, unmistakably, a bee.


    Apollonia had never seen one of the little insects, but she had heard of them, one of the things about the homeworld that every human child learned about.


    Angel licked her hand frantically.


    Apollonia tried to pet her more, but Angel''s tongue seemed to be everywhere she reached, and finally a very undignified giggle escaped her lips.


    "Calm down, I just want to pick you up!" she said. But the dog would not calm down, just becoming more wound up.


    She went out of her way to find the little dog often, but it always seemed to get incredibly worked up when it saw her; more than most people. She wondered if it was because it liked her more than most, or if this was an expression of the generalized anxiety her presence seemed to bring to beings near her.


    But the dog did not seem to hold it against her. And the fact that she was a bee was absolute perfection.


    "Who dressed you up like this?" she cooed. "Did they know it would match me so well?"


    A pair of boots stopped in front of her, and Apollonia finally looked up at a woman she hesitantly identified as Rachel Zhu. Chief of . . . something with drones, she thought.


    The woman looked slightly bemused, hands on her hips, and she herself was in a costume; some sort of ancient attire, complete with a funny little hat and a fake white beard.


    "Who are you supposed to be?" Apollonia asked. "I''m a sunflower."


    "That much I surmised," Zhu replied, smiling slightly. "I''m Zhu Xi."


    That did not clarify much for Apollonia, but she nodded as if she knew who that was and tried again to pick up Angel, whose wiggling, while still extreme, seemed to have died down slightly with Rachel Zhu''s arrival. The dog easily avoided her grasp again.


    "I''m afraid I don''t know much about Earth history," Apollonia noted.


    Zhu focused on the ship terrier. "Angel, come. We''ve got a schedule to keep."


    "Aww, dogs don''t want to keep to a schedule!" Apollonia said. "I''m sure she''d much rather run around and enjoy herself!"


    "And pee on the geraniums again," Zhu replied. "No, I need to walk her in certain places where the drones can easily clean. Then I need to get back on my shift."


    "You''re on duty?" Apollonia asked. "That''s terrible! It''s Darkeve, everyone should get to relax!"


    "A ship still needs a crew," Zhu replied, a little amused now. "But I appreciate the sentiment."


    "Well, what if I walk Angel, and then you can get started sooner and be free sooner!"


    The woman looked tempted. "As long as you don''t lose her. She sometimes wanders off and gets lost and scared."


    "Oh no, I won''t let that happen!" Apollonia promised. She made another attempt to grab Angel, but this time the dog seemed to have no desire to dodge her. "She''ll stick with me, see? I''m a flower, after all and she''s a bee!"


    Zhu snorted. "Well, I appreciate you taking her, I have a lot to do. We normally take turns walking her, and it just fell to me today."


    Apollonia gasped. "I could do that! I could be the ship''s dog walker!"


    Zhu laughed. "I''ll see you later, Ms. Nor."


    "Hey, hold up just one more sec," Apollonia said. "After the parade and stuff I''m going to show a movie at my place. Shark Hole 7, it just came out!"


    She grinned. "It''s going to be terrible, you have to see it!"


    Zhu hesitated, clearly trying to tell if Apollonia was even being serious. "I''m afraid I''m on a twelve-hour shift," she said. "But you''ve got me curious. Perhaps I''ll catch number eight when it comes out?"


    "All right!" Apollonia said, waving. "Say goodbye, Angel," she added, taking the dogs''s tiny paw and making it wave.


    Zhu laughed again as she walked away.

 Episode 11 - Part 2

    ¡°Are flowers allowed in the command center?¡± Apollonia asked the security officer.


    The man smiled slightly.  ¡°Normally I¡¯d say no, but allowances could be made today.  What¡¯s your business?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m here to bother Commander Yaepanaya about something,¡± Apollonia said.  ¡°Important flower stuff.¡±


    The man laughed this time.  ¡°Go on in, Specialist Nor.¡±


    Ooh, specialist.  She¡¯d known she had that sort of title, but hearing it was nice.


    Walking in, Angel wiggled even more excitedly as Apollonia put her down.


    She had gotten an extendable leash and set her tablet to track the little dog so she wouldn¡¯t lose her.  Angel seemed to resent the leash and collar, side-eying Apollonia as she¡¯d put them on her, and she had an amazing ability to find out of the way spots and get tangled around anything and everything, including herself.


    She did not seem familiar with the command center, and as soon as her feet hit the deck she ran over to investigate the Captain¡¯s chair.


    From behind, Apollonia could only see boots, which looked like Jaya¡¯s, and they jumped slightly as Angel crashed into her, tangling the leash again.


    ¡°Why is there an animal in my command center?¡± the woman¡¯s voice barked imperiously.


    ¡°Ah, sorry, it¡¯s me!¡± Apollonia said, hurrying over.


    Jaya¡¯s annoyance quickly melted away as she saw Apollonia, and something dangerously close to a smile appeared on her face.  ¡°Ah, I see.  It¡¯s just a bee attracted to the flower.¡±


    ¡°Yes!¡± Apollonia said, excitedly.


    ¡°An idea brought about by your time on Earth?¡± Jaya asked.


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    ¡°Yeah,¡± Apollonia said.  ¡°I was originally going to be Oleandra from The Last Throne.  She¡¯s a witch everyone hated and was afraid of . . .¡±


    ¡°I believe I have heard of this show,¡± Jaya said.  ¡°There is quite a bit of gratuitous violence and sex in it, as I recall.¡±


    ¡°Oh, yeah, tons,¡± Apollonia agreed.  ¡°And really, Oleandra is way hotter than me, but at least her outfit isn¡¯t slutty.  We kind of look alike, too.  I mean, I¡¯m thin and pale with dark hair, that¡¯s kind of similar.¡±


    She could have passed, she thought.  But ultimately it had felt inappropriate.  The Last Throne seemed tailored towards people with a little too much interest in blood and torture and cruelty.  She¡¯d watched it at times, but had lost her taste for it since leaving New Vitriol.  It didn¡¯t seem to fit into the same universe she found herself in now.


    ¡°I¡¯m rather glad you went with your flower,¡± Jaya said.  ¡°I believe it suits you better.¡±


    ¡°Aww, thanks.  I¡¯m glad it matches with Angel.  Angel, no, don¡¯t pee there!¡±


    The dog was squatting in a corner next to a computer.


    Jaya let out an exasperated sigh.  ¡°This is why we do not let animals in the Command Center.¡±  She raised her voice.  ¡°Get some drone cleaners in here,¡± she ordered.  ¡°And please get the bee out of here.¡±


    Apollonia carefully picked up the dog, trying to avoid any wet spots on her underside.


    ¡°I will,¡± Apollonia said, studying Jaya.  ¡°But what is your costume?¡±


    Jaya seemed to have made the most bare minimum of effort; she had some bright blueish-green metallic makeup around her eyes, and from her hair bun a handful of similar feathers stuck out, each with a strange dark spot on them.


    ¡°I am a peacock,¡± Jaya said, her seriousness undermining the lightheartedness.


    ¡°Oh,¡± Apollonia said.


    Jaya sighed.  ¡°I would prefer not to wear a costume at all, but I owed the Captain a favor and he insisted I make some gesture towards it.¡±


    Apollonia tilted her head.  ¡°You¡¯re not a fan of the best holiday ever?¡±


    ¡°I do not enjoy silly costumes,¡± Jaya replied shortly.  ¡°Which is why I volunteered to be on command duty.¡±


    ¡°So the Captain is dressing up?¡± Apollonia asked excitedly.  ¡°Oh I can¡¯t wait to see that!¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t get too excited,¡± Jaya cautioned.  ¡°He usually just dresses up as Roald Amundsen.¡±


    Apollonia¡¯s blank face required no question to be asked.


    ¡°He was the first to reach the South Pole in Antarctica on Earth,¡± Jaya clarified.


    ¡°Ohhh,¡± Apollonia replied, stroking Angel.


    ¡°You go on,¡± Jaya said.  ¡°Enjoy the parade and revelry.  I will be be fine.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± Apollonia said.  ¡°But don¡¯t forget that I¡¯m showing Shark Hole 7 later!¡±


    ¡°I will be there,¡± Jaya replied gravely.


    Much pleased, the sunflower and bee flitted from the command center.

 Episode 11 - Part 3

    There was still time to kill before the official Darkeve festivities began.


    Apollonia had tried slipping into that part of the Equator Ring earlier, but had been politely sent back out.


    ¡°The work is not yet complete,¡± the drone had informed her.


    Angel had, of course, already wandered in.


    ¡°My dog went in, I have to get her!¡± Apollonia had said to the drone, trying to dart in to get a look.


    But the dog had, upon hearing her name, run back excitedly.


    ¡°Well,¡± Apollonia said to the little happy fluffball.  ¡°I guess that won¡¯t work.¡±


    The idea of getting some lunch before the event had just occurred to her when she saw a walking tree.


    Doing a double-take, she wondered for a moment if this was some new alien lifeform she had never even heard of when the tree turned ¨C and she saw Urle¡¯s face poking out of it.


    He waved a branch-like arm at her, turning back to the man next to him.  Apollonia realized that it was Brooks, having been so surprised by Urle that she¡¯d scarcely noticed him or Dr. Y next to him.


    She hurried over, Angel getting even more wiggly as she recognized the people, straining against the leash to reach them.


    ¡°Don¡¯t choke yourself!¡± Apollonia chided the dog.  But she pressed on anyway, making a ¡®gack¡¯ sound.


    ¡°Zach, I didn¡¯t even recognize you at first,¡± she told Urle as she came up.


    He laughed, waving his branches.  They were not just clever attachments to his arms; his arms themselves were twisted and branching like actual tree limbs, with each branch apparently able to move jointlessly.


    ¡°I designed it myself,¡± he said proudly.  ¡°If I put the face shield on you can¡¯t even tell I¡¯m a person!¡±


    ¡°It is quite impressive,¡± Dr. Y said.


    Apollonia looked over to the doctor, trying to figure his costume out.


    ¡°Vampire?¡± she guessed.


    ¡°That is correct in essence, but missing in the particulars,¡± Y replied happily.  ¡°However, I am content to let people guess at my costumes.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not telling?¡±


    ¡°That would be far too boring,¡± Y replied.


    ¡°He¡¯s Bella Lugosi,¡± Brooks said absently, speaking for the first time, quite distracted by whatever he was viewing on his tablet.


    ¡°Who is that?¡± Apollonia asked.


    ¡°Ah, Captain, how droll,¡± Y said with an exaggerated sigh.  ¡°Though I suppose it is a bit much to expect most people to remember an actor from 900 years ago.¡±


    ¡°And yet I guessed it,¡± Brooks said, a smile tugging his lips.


    Apollonia looked over the Captain¡¯s costume now.  It was not quite what she had been expecting of an arctic explorer.


    ¡°Are you Roald Amundsen?¡± she asked.


    ¡°No,¡± Brooks replied, glancing up.  ¡°I decided to branch out this year.  I¡¯m not anyone in particular; merely an old naval Captain of the 19th century Western powers.¡±


    ¡°To be quite accurate,¡± Y chipped in.  ¡°His outfit mixes elements from several different navies, and even some from earlier centuries.  It is-¡°


    ¡°. . . it is impressionistic,¡± Brooks interrupted dryly.


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    ¡°It¡¯s quite good.  I mean, everyone would recognize it immediately, and best not to attach your name to a specific figure,¡± Urle said.  ¡°Especially not from old imperial powers.  Too much baggage.¡±


    Y turned to look at him.  ¡°You know, on the topic of accuracy, Executive Commander, I must say I am somewhat uncertain what specific species of tree you were aiming for.  Like the Captain, you have combined elements of different genera . . .¡±


    ¡°Oh here we go,¡± Urle muttered.  ¡°I¡¯m going with the Captain on this ¨C it¡¯s impressionistic.¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± Y replied stiffly.  ¡°Well my first impression is that you did not consider which tree you wanted to be very much.¡±


    ¡°Not everyone is trying to exactly recreate specific things,¡± Urle replied.


    Apollonia was grinning ear to ear.  ¡°Well . . . costumes aside, are you all going to come to my showing of Shark Hole 7 later?¡±


    ¡°How scary is it?¡± Urle asked.  ¡°I was thinking of bringing my girls.¡±


    Apollonia hadn¡¯t considered that possibility.


    Really, it was not the scares that concerned her, but the gratuitous nudity . . .


    But she could get the computer to edit that out.


    ¡°It¡¯ll be fine!¡± she said, grinning.


    ¡°Okay, we¡¯ll be there!¡± Urle said.


    Y offered a stiff bow, swinging his cape in front of himself.  ¡°I will of course be present.  And may I compliment you on your most wonderful sunflower.¡±


    Apollonia laughed now.  ¡°My costume is terrible!  Everyone else¡¯s are perfect.¡±


    ¡°It is perfectly impressionistic,¡± Y told her.


    Grinning, she turned to look at Brooks, who still seemed distracted.  ¡°Will you be coming, Ian?¡±


    The sound of his first name caught his attention.  ¡°Ah, Shark Hole 7?  I haven¡¯t seen the first six, will I be able to follow the story?¡±


    Apollonia wasn¡¯t sure if he was joking or not.  ¡°I think you can catch the gist,¡± she told him.


    ¡°In that case-¡±  His words cut off, his eyes focusing into the distance.  ¡°Damn,¡± he muttered under his breath.  Then, in a normal voice; ¡°Commander Cann, how can I help you?¡±


    Apollonia had not even heard the woman approaching, which seemed a miracle when she saw her costume.


    Next to Urle¡¯s tree, Zeela¡¯s outfit was the most impressive she¡¯d seen.


    She was a witch, but her costume was incredibly elegant; there were silk sashes and puffy shoulders, elbow-length gloves and a high collar.  It was all tailored so perfectly that Apollonia almost missed the corset entirely, which gave her an hourglass-like figure that even a digital actress would be jealous of.


    Dominating it all was her broad-brim hat, which was absurdly huge; it reached high into the air, with lit candles set in it.


    Around her, pixies seemed to dance in the air, which Apollonia could only guess were cleverly-disguised drones.


    ¡°Dayum,¡± she said.


    ¡°Captain,¡± Cann said.  ¡°You¡¯ve made a critical error and I¡¯ve finally found you.¡±


    Urle gave her a confused look.  ¡°You couldn¡¯t find the Captain?¡±


    Zeela gave Brooks a glare, which he pretended not to notice.  ¡°He turned off his tracking.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Apollonia asked.


    Urle laughed.  ¡°Did you really turn off your tracking?  You can¡¯t search for anyone that way, how¡¯d you find me?¡±


    ¡°Old naval captains just had to find their way with a compass,¡± Brooks muttered.  ¡°But for you I just asked people if they¡¯d seen a walking tree.¡±


    ¡°We need to discuss your speech and the leading of the parade,¡± Cann said, her voice almost sing-song.  ¡°You promised me last year you¡¯d definitely do it this time!¡±


    Brooks looked acutely uncomfortable; Apollonia could practically see his mind working, trying to find an excuse.


    And he came up blank.  ¡°All right,¡± he said, mostly managing to hide the dejection in his voice.


    ¡°Excellent.  Well, you must be at the fore, and you will need to be carrying the baton.  I trust you can twirl it without dropping?¡±


    ¡°Is the twirling necessary?¡± Brooks asked quickly.


    ¡°Of course it is, it¡¯s part of the procession ritual!  You know, scaring off demons or something.  I don¡¯t know, but you should have seen old Lambert with it!  He could flip it in the air and catch it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not doing that,¡± Brooks said.


    ¡°That¡¯s okay, but you do need to smile at least!¡± Cann insisted.


    She was like a shark, Apollonia thought.  She had tasted blood in the water and was going in for the kill.


    Brooks continued to listen as she described his role; it was merely ceremonial, but there was a lot of ceremony, it seemed.


    His face seemed to be growing more bleak as he listened, but then a beep came from his tablet.  It was an insistent sound and his expression changed immediately.


    ¡°Zeela,¡± he said, cutting her off.  ¡°I have to take this.¡±


    He did not wait for a response; instead, he turned and walked away swiftly.


    Zeela seemed surprised and unsure for a moment, then looked to Urle.


    ¡°Was this arranged?¡± she asked him, semi-seriously.


    Urle laughed.  ¡°I have no idea, but I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll be there for the parade.¡±


    ¡°Well, unless something serious happens, right?¡± Apollonia asked.  ¡°Like with the ship.¡±


    Zeela gave her an annoyed look, as if she had just jinxed the whole thing.  ¡°Yes, if something serious happened he would of course have to resume his normal duties.  But that¡¯s not going to happen.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll be fine,¡± Urle said, still amused.  ¡°But I have things I need to do as well.  I¡¯ll see you all later.¡±


    Apollonia hesitated a moment before asking Zeela, but decided to anyway.  ¡°Do you wanna come watch Shark Hole 7 later with us?¡±


    ¡°Oh no, my dear,¡± Cann replied, seeming perfectly pleasant again.  ¡°By that time I¡¯ll be quite unconscious.  These events are exhausting to arrange.  But thank you all the same.¡±


    Turning, she swished away, and Apollonia turned to look at Y.


    ¡°I was gonna get some lunch,¡± she said.


    ¡°I have very little to do,¡± Y replied happily.  ¡°I would be happy to join you for social reasons!¡±

 Episode 11 - Part 4

    ¡°Who is this and how did you get this contact line?¡± Brooks demanded.


    He could feel his heart beating harder in his chest as the voice on the other end spoke.


    ¡°Hullo, Captain Ian Brooks,¡± the caller finally said.


    The voice sounded male, though such a thing could always be faked.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± Brooks asked again.


    ¡°I am calling on behalf of a mutual friend,¡± the voice continued.  ¡°She sends her regards and wishes you continued good health.¡±


    ¡°Who is this mutual friend?¡± Brooks asked.


    He knew.  This was his most private of contact lines, one he had given to only a handful of beings in the universe ¨C most of whom were on this ship.  None of whom would ever use it outside of an emergency.


    The only one he could think of who might do this was Dawn.


    ¡°Our friend is quite shy, you know,¡± the voice told him.  ¡°She expects you¡¯d understand how embarrassed she¡¯d be if we spoke too openly, even in private.¡±


    ¡°Is she there with you?¡± Brooks now asked carefully.  ¡°Where are you?¡±


    ¡°Ah, Captain, you are as forward as she said.  But I expected you to be more clever.  Do we really need to do this dance?¡±


    ¡°We do,¡± Brooks said.  ¡°Because you still haven¡¯t given me a reason to trust you.¡±


    ¡°To be quite frank, Captain Brooks, the trust has already flowed your way.  You are the one who owes a debt after all, aren¡¯t you?¡±


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    Damn it, Brooks thought.  So that¡¯s what this was about.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t answer me.  I¡¯d like to speak with her if she¡¯s there.¡±


    ¡°She is nowhere near here, Captain.  She is far-off ensconced ¨C even I don¡¯t know where she is, and I am one of the few she has some trust in.¡±


    Brooks doubted that was true.  Vermillion Dawn trusted almost no one.


    ¡°What sort of favor is she asking?¡±


    ¡°Ah ah ¨C not a favor, Captain.  Payment.¡±


    ¡°Money?  I did not expect her to be so crude,¡± Brooks replied.


    ¡°Payment comes in many forms.  Sometimes it is as simple as a meeting.¡±


    He wracked his brain; she wanted to meet him?  It had not been long since he¡¯d contacted her through the virtual headset in that drug den on Gohhi.  It had been years since they had spoken before that.


    So why did she want to speak to him now?


    ¡°I can meet her,¡± he said.  ¡°I can leave tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°You are making a false assumption, Captain ¨C you are not the one she wishes to meet.¡±


    He knew he shouldn¡¯t be surprised, let alone disappointed, yet he was, and it threw him into a spin.  ¡°Who then?¡± he said quickly, almost aggressively.


    There was a slight pause before the other voice answered.  The man on the other end had caught the tone shift and noted it.


    Brooks cursed himself for giving away too much.


    ¡°Your intrepid doctor is a most fascinating individual,¡± the voice said.  ¡°And she would be delighted to make his acquaintance.¡±


    Brooks felt his anger get the better of him.  ¡°I cannot order Y to go off and meet whomever I want.  He is his own being, and an officer-¡°


    He was angry on Y¡¯s behalf, yes.  But he was also angry because of the wording ¨C which he knew was quite intentional.


    Dawn had called him, with a dry sarcasm, the ¡®intrepid captain¡¯ quite often.  To call Y by the same term was the proof that he needed to finally know this was indeed sent by her.


    And it angered him deeply that she was only using him for an introduction.


    ¡°A chance to speak to the Doctor in person is all that is requested.  You have every guarantee of his safety ¨C and his status as an individual is not in question, Captain.¡±  The voice was almost chiding at the end.


    He had to clamp down on his emotions.  Taking a slow, quiet breath, he put his voice back onto a professional keel.


    ¡°What I mean is that I will have to broach the topic with him.  While I acknowledge the debt I owe . . . I cannot say for certain that he will agree, or when he will choose to make such a trip if he does agree.¡±


    ¡°I will call again in two hours, Captain.  By that time the good Doctor will have agreed and we will arrange the meeting place,¡± the voice said.


    He did not give Brooks a chance to reply, but ended the call immediately.

 Episode 11 - Part 5

    Tred nervously kneaded his hands as the lift doors opened.


    Security ushered him through the doors into Reactor 7.  He had full clearance to be here, after all, but it seemed like it had been weeks since he had been.


    Had it been that long?  He started to count the days, but quickly swatted that thought away.


    Forcing himself to stop kneading his hands, he walked into the reactor monitoring chamber.


    The reactor itself was a massive elongated ovoid, twenty-seven meters wide.  Within it flowed plasma like a miniature star ¨C though far hotter than most stars.


    He automatically checked the readouts on the reactor, innately feeling alarm when he saw that some of the numbers deviated from the norm.


    But that was actually okay; those changes were to make the plasma flux more suitable to a Star Angel.


    They were, really, miraculous beings.  Intelligent by sheer chance, able to live in a wide range of plasma environments.  He¡¯d read that some lived under the ¡®surface¡¯ of their star, others in the fringes, and these circumstances produced slight variations of being and culture.


    For the most part he did not really understand their culture; hardly anyone did.  A few thousand diplomats and researchers who lived in the fringes of their home system of Yia were still trying to decipher those very things.


    Beings who were non-corporeal, who lived so very differently, could be incredibly difficult to understand.  He could get that.


    But it hurt him to think, because he truly thought that he and Jophiel had an understanding.


    The Star Angel ambassador had even appointed him her assistant!  He had built her a custom drone, replete with specialized sensors so that she could move about the ship and feel as if she was actually there, rather than receiving just a limited band of information.


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    Yet since they had gone to see the play Ussa and Usser, she had . . .


    She had been ignoring him.


    He had spoken to her only twice; both messages were brief, the bare minimum, and only for diplomatic purposes.  Which, after she had asked him to send some dispatches, he realized he was thoroughly untrained for and absolutely awful at.


    Perhaps that was why, he mused.  She saw his dispatches sent back to Yia and been disgusted.  Perhaps after he¡¯d made that drone she¡¯d assumed he was at least passably skillful at all things, not just engineering.


    That was probably it, he reasoned.


    He had done research into how to improve, even run his documents through the diplomatic AI, which had marginally approved them.  But still ¨C he was clearly a rank amateur.


    And she was an ambassador!  She was probably an expert in communication in ways he didn¡¯t even know existed.


    He approached the terminal that communicated into the plasma chamber.  Star Angels did not sleep, but at times went into low states of activity, so he was not sure if talking to her would be okay or not.


    He had come down here just to speak to her.  He wasn¡¯t even on-duty.


    Now he was hesitating, his nerves so bad that he was about ready to walk back out.


    He could always come back, but what if she was watching?  She was always so understanding of his . . . oddities, but maybe she¡¯d grown tired of them?  Maybe she found him annoying after their greater contact.


    Taking a deep breath, he approached the terminal.


    ¡°Madam Ambassador,¡± he messaged.  ¡°My apologies for disturbing you.¡±


    He paused; he¡¯d already written out what he was going to say, though now it all seemed horribly inadequate.


    ¡°Today is a special date in the Sapient Union, a holiday we call Darkeve.  People enjoy dressing up in fanciful costumes and there is even a parade of costumes with awards given out to those who make particularly good ones!¡±


    He changed the exclamation point to a period.  It seemed too excitable.


    ¡°I was hoping that I could take you to see the parade.  It is an ancient holiday, and one I think you may find quite interesting.¡±


    That was all he had written, but on a whim he quickly added and sent; ¡°That is, if you are not busy today, of course, Madam Ambassador!¡±


    Damn it, he¡¯d put in an exclamation point again!  And he had opened the message calling her by her title.


    Feeling like an utter fool, he could only stand there and wait.  If he hadn¡¯t been so frozen with nervousness, he might have wanted to bolt.


    A message beeped, his heart jumped.


    ¡°Thank you for your kind invitation,¡± it said.  ¡°However, I must decline.  Please enjoy your holiday.¡±


    Tred felt like all the energy had been drained from him.  Automatically, driven by habit of politeness, he replied.


    ¡°Thank you, Madam Ambassador.  Good day to you.¡±


    Turning, feeling numb, he left.

 Episode 11 - Part 6

    The cafeteria was, unsurprisingly, crowded as hell.


    Apollonia tried to hide Angel under one of her fronds, not expecting that they¡¯d let the dog in, but a server drone came up to her immediately.


    ¡°We have few seats, but we can accommodate you and Angel the Terrier, Ms. Nor.¡±


    Amused at how easily the drone had seen through her attempts at subterfuge, Apollonia let it lead her to a table that was mostly empty.  Most other tables were packed, with people in costumes or uniform, but this area appeared to have just been opened to meet new demand.


    ¡°Will this do?¡± the drone asked.


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s fine,¡± she said.  ¡°Just a corn dog for me and . . . well I guess some dog food for little Angel.  Even though she¡¯s a bee.¡±


    The drone paused, taking that in for a moment.  ¡°I fully understand,¡± it said.


    Apollonia was wondering if it really did as she sat down.


    Y had gotten sidetracked along the way, but came loping in now, sitting down across from her.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t think they¡¯d let a dog in here,¡± she said, putting Angel on the table, who began to sniff it curiously, before licking a random spot with intensity.


    ¡°An animal of such breeding as Angel will have a much more human-friendly microbiome than most companion animals,¡± Y noted.  He looked to the dog as she continued to lick the table.  ¡°Not that I would recommend letting her lick your food.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m not that crazy,¡± Apollonia replied.


    A drone brought out a plate with her corn dog and Angel¡¯s small pile of . . . some sort of brown mushy lumps.  It looked horrible, but the dog began to eat ravenously, practically horking it down.


    ¡°She¡¯s easy to please,¡± Apollonia noted.


    Y looked at the dog, pausing.  For a moment she thought that he was about to launch into a long discussion of dogs and space dogs and their preferences in food, but instead he simply nodded mechanically.  ¡°It does appear so.¡±


    She took a bite of her corn dog, wondering suddenly how the more intelligent space hounds would feel about a food being named for their kind.  Was that insulting?


    Though, she considered, if she had a food named after her, she¡¯d probably be thrilled.  Hot Nors, she thought.  Or maybe Fried Nors ¨C crunchy on the outside with a gooey center.


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    Looking again at her corn dog, she reconsidered.  It might depend on the food.


    ¡°Do you mind if I read while we sit?¡± Y asked, taking a rather heavy book out of a panel on his side.


    ¡°I suppose not,¡± Apollonia replied, chewing.  ¡°Am I that boring, though?¡±


    ¡°I just often multi-task ¨C I could generously be called ¡®manic¡¯ at times, in my desire to do multiple things,¡± Y replied.  ¡°In this case, I am attempting to mimic the human experience by using an actual physical book rather than merely a digital copy.¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± Apollonia replied.  ¡°By all means, then.¡±


    She had seen books before, but rarely.  They were something of a status item for snobs in her home system, though being book-smart wasn¡¯t often considered a desirable trait there.  Occasionally she¡¯d seen them in shops, though.  Usually the kind with prints of naked women in them.


    Seeing movement behind Y, Apollonia leaned to the side and saw a group of people headed towards them.  Two she recognized immediately; Kiseleva and Suon, from the Response team that had been with her on the pirate ship.  The third was a shorter, nebbishy-looking man who was slouching along behind them.


    Among them, only Suon had a costume on; it was a dark cloak, either black or blue.  There was heavy fur trim around the hood that partially covered his head, and he had a kind of holographic mask that seemed ethereal and darkened his face beneath, rendering it difficult to see.  The holographic effect projected outward like the beak of a raven, punctuated with glowing red eyes.  From his back were large feathered wings, also black, that seemed to move like the real thing, shifting and at times even stretching.


    They were directed by a drone, talking animatedly to each other.  Kiseleva didn¡¯t seem to have her normal stern demeanor; she was laughing at something Suon was saying, and smiling, which was almost startling for Apollonia to see; the woman was usually so serious.  Or maybe just serious when she was working?  Jaya had been the same way, Apollonia thought.


    Then Kiseleva¡¯s eyes settled on Apollonia, and her face turned back to that stoic seriousness again.  She felt her anxiety rise.


    She hadn¡¯t seen the woman since that mission; some sort of hiatus from training, which she had viewed gratefully.  Though maybe that was about to end.


    ¡°Do you mind if we sit here?¡± Suon asked.


    ¡°Please, the more the merrier,¡± Y said, gesturing expansively.


    Kiseleva and Suon sat, Kiseleva next to Y, and Suon crossing to Apollonia¡¯s side and sitting next to her.  He seemed to automatically sit close, but then moved a little away, his wings shifting.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± he said, seeming for a moment like he wanted to say something else, but decided better of it.


    Apollonia nodded awkwardly, wondering why the two had sat just down with them when there were other spots available.  She barely knew Suon, and Kiseleva was not exactly her buddy.


    The nebbishy man hesitated before taking a seat, but came around to sit on Apollonia¡¯s side, though a further distance away.


    ¡°So anyway,¡± Suon said to Kiseleva.  ¡°I still think Maxwell was far more significant than Kotikov.  He invented a whole new genre, for star¡¯s sake!¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Kiseleva disagreed simply.  ¡°Kotikov was greater.¡±


    Suon sighed dramatically.  ¡°I¡¯m not going to say who was greater ¨C I¡¯m definitely not qualified for that, I¡¯m just saying that Maxwell had more influence!¡±


    ¡°Are you guys talking about music?¡± Apollonia asked, leaning forward.  She still felt awkwardly out of place, but they had sat next to her, so she had an odd sense of euphoria ¨C like she was part of a group.

 Episode 11 - Part 7

    ¡°Yes,¡± Suon said enthusiastically.  ¡°Twenty-third century classical metal.  Do you have a favorite composer?¡±


    Apollonia thought a minute.  ¡°I like that one guy who remixes dog barks into parodies of songs.  Dr. Woof, I think?¡±


    Suon stared at her blankly for a second, then burst into laughter.


    Kiseleva didn¡¯t even crack a smile.


    ¡°Hey!¡± a new voice called from the direction of the entrance.  ¡°What do you think?¡± Pirra chirped excitedly, coming closer.


    She was wearing a black sweater dress with v-shaped stripes in red, yellow, and green.  She appeared to have donned a wig of human-like hair over her normal green feathers, which was pulled up into a bun behind her head.  A black beret slouched off to one side, and a cigar seemed to have been attached just next to her small mouth to give the appearance of it being clenched in non-existent lips ¨C though the shape of lips had been made in a blood-red lipstick.


    She also held a rather menacing-looking machine gun, waving it in the air with wild abandon.


    ¡°Give me all your paper notes!¡± she said, pulling the trigger.  A series of pops and bangs emanated from the barrel of the gun.  It flashed brightly, but was, it seemed, just a prop.


    She twirled, her skirt spinning nicely around her, though the hat was odd on her head, with its different proportions than a human¡¯s.


    ¡°I look the part, don¡¯t I?¡± she asked, seeming very pleased.


    ¡°Nice one, Commander,¡± Suon said.  ¡°Is Alexander going to be Clyde?¡±


    ¡°Who¡¯s Clyde?¡± Apollonia asked.  ¡°Who are you supposed to be?¡±


    ¡°Bonnie, of course!¡± Pirra replied.  ¡°You know, the famous criminal?¡±


    ¡°Uhhh . . .¡±  Apollonia had no idea who that was.  ¡°Remind me?¡±


    Pirra looked crestfallen.  ¡°She was a hardcore robber from a country called United America States, over nine hundred years ago!¡±


    Y lowered his book somewhat.  ¡°I know of her,¡± he said.  ¡°Bonnie Elizabeth Parker.  One of the famous criminal duo from the so-called Barrow Gang.  Along with her paramour Clyde Barrow, they caused a rather vicious streak of murder and theft through the area known as the ¡®American Heartland¡¯.  The country was formally known as the ¡®United States of America¡¯, incidentally.¡±


    ¡°Right!¡± Pirra said.


    Y tilted his head.  ¡°Have you considered that Bonnie Elizabeth Parker was a figure both tragic and highly immoral in her actions?¡±


    Pirra waved that away.  ¡°Look, she was badass and that¡¯s enough.  Most of human history doesn¡¯t have a lot of great couples where the woman was as involved in the action.  And Sky knows I¡¯m not going to be the backseat in this duo.¡±


    Y leaned closer.  ¡°I note several historical inaccuracies in your depiction.  Bonnie Elizabeth Parker, for instance, did not actually smoke cigars ¨C that idea was taken from a single photograph that was likely done for jest.  Also, as iconic as the Thompson submachine gun is for the era in question, I do not believe that she or the Barrow gang ever actually used one ¨C instead preferring a BAR rifle, pump-action shotguns, or handguns-¡°


    ¡°Shush-shush-shush!¡± Pirra replied holding up a hand.  ¡°That¡¯s not important.¡±


    ¡°Dessei have claws?¡± Apollonia asked, leaning forward in curiosity as she saw Pirra¡¯s bare hand up close for the first time.


    For a moment Pirra looked surprised, but then seemed pleased, if anything.


    ¡°Oh, yes,¡± she said.  She reached out, touching Apollonia¡¯s arm, making her jump slightly.  The tips of Pirra¡¯s fingers were cold and hard, but not sharp.


    ¡°Humans have their nails, but the ends of our fingers form calcified tips that can get very sharp.  We trim and buff them down nowadays ¨C it¡¯s just civilized.  Plus it makes fine manipulation easier.¡±


    Apollonia wasn¡¯t sure if that was awesome or creepy.


    ¡°I remember once when Alexander got upset because I was using his toothbrush to buff them . . .¡± Pirra said, her voice almost wistful.  ¡°It was so cute.  I mean, it was early on in our relationship, there were still misunderstandings.  And it¡¯s not like I can transfer any diseases to him.¡±


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    ¡°Ew,¡± the nebbishy man next to Apollonia said, speaking for the first time.


    Pirra glared at him.  Suon looked amused for a moment but then forced himself to look serious again.


    ¡°Tred, better watch yourself,¡± he said.  ¡°Bonnie¡¯s a wanted criminal.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not judging!¡± Tred said quickly, flushing.  ¡°I just wouldn¡¯t want my toothbrush touching anything other than my teeth . . .¡±


    Pirra seemed annoyed still, and Apollonia cleared her throat.  ¡°I¡¯ve never seen an alien dress up like a human before.  A lot of hookers back on Hell Rock would sometimes dress up as Sepht on Darkeve, though.¡±  She glanced at Pirra, feeling awkward adding the last part.  ¡°Or Dessei.  But there really seemed to be a special preference for Sepht.  I never got it.¡±


    Tred shifted.  ¡°Some people really like Sepht . . . like in an intimate way.  They¡¯re kind of weirdos.¡±


    Pirra¡¯s wig and hat shifted on her head.  Apollonia was alarmed until she realized the Dessei¡¯s crest was rising from beneath them.  ¡°It¡¯s not necessarily weird to be attracted to other species!  Or to dress up like them.  We¡¯re all sapient beings.¡±


    Apollonia felt a flush in her cheeks as she realized she¡¯d said something rude.  Tred recoiled back in his seat at his own rebuke and spoke quickly.  ¡°No, no, of course it¡¯s not weird!  I just mean . . . these people are a little, you know, fetishistic about Sepht.  And it¡¯s just not a good idea with them in particular.¡±


    Apollonia wasn¡¯t sure if she should apologize, but Pirra seemed focused on Tred now.  The last thing he had said had caught her curiosity as well.  ¡°Why is it a bad idea with Sepht?¡± she asked.


    Tred seemed even more nervous, going rather pale.  ¡°It¡¯s just . . . um, there¡¯s a lot of reasons.  I mean, some men get hung up on the fact that they¡¯re like 95% female, but ignore a lot of the . . .¡±  He trailed off, looking at Pirra, who seemed to have a very flinty look in her eyes.  ¡°. . . warning signs.  Like aggression.  When they do take to a male, they can get very possessive and hostile towards others.¡±


    ¡°That is a very broad generalization, and not entirely true,¡± Pirra said.


    ¡°I know it¡¯s a generalization, but it¡¯s in the official documentation from the Sepht government discouraging relationships!¡± Tred said quickly.


    Kiseleva¡¯s eyebrow arched and Suon cleared his throat.  ¡°That¡¯s not exactly standard reading . . . why were you looking into that?¡±


    Tred¡¯s face turned nearly white.


    ¡°Go on,¡± Apollonia said, feeling kind of annoyed at the others.  ¡°I¡¯m actually curious to hear more.¡±


    Tred was awkwardly silent for a few more moments.  ¡°B-besides that, there¡¯s the issue of their skin secretions . . .  they irritate human skin.  I hear it can cause a rash even on regular skin, but if it gets on a mucus membrane it¡¯s even worse-¡°


    Apollonia threw up her hands.  ¡°Oh, gross, okay!  La la la, I¡¯m not listening anymore, I¡¯m not old enough to be getting into hearing about mucus membranes!¡±


    Tred looked shocked anew.  ¡°Wait, really?  You are an adult, right?¡±


    All eyes at the table moved to her.


    She felt herself blush.  ¡°Yes!  I was joking, I¡¯m 28!¡±


    ¡°She is 22,¡± Y said.


    Shock went across the faces of the group.


    ¡°I¡¯m older than that!¡± Apollonia said.


    ¡°Her age is listed as 28 in her profile,¡± Pirra noted.


    ¡°It is incorrect,¡± Y said.  ¡°Though we took Apollonia¡¯s word for it initially, for medical reasons I was required to seek a more precise date.  I deduced the truth rather recently, though I was not certain when to bring it up.  Partially this discrepancy is because of the calendar used in the Tedian system.  Due to the extreme distance of New Vitriol from its parent star, one orbit takes 60,000 Earth years.  Thus a solar calendar is useless . . .¡±


    Apollonia frowned.  ¡°Calendar?  What¡¯s that?¡±


    Tred tilted his head.  ¡°A calendar?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Apollonia replied.  ¡°The spice?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Tred asked.


    Suon spoke.  ¡°Do you mean coriander?¡±


    ¡°What?  Y?¡± Apollonia asked, thoroughly confused and looking at the doctor.


    ¡°Why?¡± Tred asked.


    Y gestured.  ¡°She means me, based on context.¡±


    ¡°Corrander!¡± Apollonia suddenly snapped, as if something had finally clicked.


    ¡°The spice?¡± Tred asked.


    ¡°No, a corrander!¡± Apollonia said in exasperation.  ¡°For telling the days!¡±


    ¡°You mean a calendar?¡± Suon asked.


    There was an awkward silence.


    ¡°Don¡¯t look at me,¡± Pirra said with a shrug.  ¡°My people don¡¯t even use a calendar.¡±


    ¡°Well, who is on first?¡± Y asked, sounding very pleased.


    Tred seemed ready to break down.  ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°It is not important,¡± Y said with a wave of his hand.  ¡°But it seems that there is a translator oversight here.  Nor, the dating system of your home is named the ¡®corrander¡¯ for Ted Corran.  He created an original system ¨C that humans call in standard universal english a ¡®calendar¡¯.  There is also a spice called ¡®coriander¡¯.


    Apple heard his words, but she felt a growing helplessness.  ¡°I can barely tell some of those apart!¡±


    ¡°Simply ear training!¡± Y said happily.  ¡°But the fact of the matter is that according to your biological markers you are closer to 22 years of age rather than 28.  Perhaps a surprising difference, but there are reasons.  Though, it should be noted that a difficulty in biologically aging you is to be expected.  Your DNA is heavily raddled by ancestral exposure to cosmic rays.  As a result, your development may differ slightly from other human strains.  It has been recorded that some strains of humanity mature more rapidly, physically speaking, as an adaptation to the rigors of space travel.¡±


    Apollonia sat back heavily.  ¡°Oh.¡±


    ¡°Does her . . . corrander not keep time the same as the standard human calendar?¡± Pirra asked Y.


    ¡°Oh, it certainly does not.  Yet it still does not even quite explain the discrepancy here!  The corrander has a shorter year than the calendar, so by its reckoning Apollonia is 25.¡±


    Frowning, Apollonia¡¯s eyes unfocused, and she started counting on her fingers.  ¡°. . . That could be right,¡± she muttered.  ¡°I didn¡¯t really always track the year that well . . .  and I did tack a few on awhile back for reasons.¡±


    ¡°Why is the corrander shorter?¡± Tred asked.  ¡°Like, what is it tied to?¡±


    ¡°It was all an invention of Ted Corran, based upon his spiritual beliefs rather than anything concrete,¡± Y said.  ¡°Though I suspect its purpose was to justify younger marriages, as is a common practice in many cults.¡±


    ¡°Disgusting,¡± Kiseleva noted.

 Episode 11 - Part 8

    Y continued, looking at Apollonia.  ¡°I have utilized isotopic methods to determine a more accurate age, and it is via those that I come to the conclusion that Nor would be 22 according to the standard human calendar.¡± He leaned forward towards her in a slight bow.  ¡°I hope that this is not an issue for you, Nor.  If you are confident that your age is 28, we can keep that on your official record, of course.¡±


    She shook her head.  ¡°No . . . No, I guess it can be 22.  Unless it makes a difference?¡±


    ¡°None at all!¡± Y replied.  ¡°You are an adult either way, under human law ¨C twenty is considered sufficient.¡±


    ¡°So . . . no one looks down on me for not being like . . . 97.¡±


    Suon laughed.  ¡°Of course not.  Younger people are not considered as experienced, but fresh eyes have their own value.¡±


    ¡°I am just surprised that you are so interested in becoming an officer at your age,¡± Kiseleva commented.


    They were all watching her again, and she felt strangely put on the spot.  ¡°I¡¯ve seen some pretty young cadets!¡±


    ¡°In the Children¡¯s Pre-Training Volunteer Program, perhaps,¡± Kiseleva said.  ¡°But they are only preparing for later training.  Most people do not even apply to the Voidfleet until they are at least thirty.  Forty is even more common.¡±


    ¡°Damn,¡± Apollonia said.  ¡°Why do they wait until they¡¯re old?¡±


    Suon glanced at Pirra and Kiseleva, then back to her.  ¡°What was the oldest person you knew on your colony?¡±


    She had to think about that.  ¡°Uh, I think I heard about a man who lived to be 87.  Real bastard he was, too.¡±


    Kiseleva snorted.  ¡°Dr. Logus was older than that.  He was almost 110, as I recall.¡±


    Apollonia nearly spat out the bite of her corn dog she¡¯d just taken.  ¡°What?  No, you¡¯re shitting me.  He looked . . . mid-40s, tops.¡±


    Their faces were serious.  She swept her eyes over them all.  Y seemed to have abandoned the conversation, returning to his book ¨C which she realized with a flicker of annoyance was probably an act ¨C and it was Tred who finally spoke.


    ¡°No, really,¡± Tred said.  ¡°Life extension is very normal.  I¡¯m almost fifty myself . . .¡±


    She leaned in closer to study the man.  He looked . . . well, nowhere near fifty.  His stress clearly worked on him, but he didn¡¯t have the deep set lines, the cancerous age spots, the general wasted quality she¡¯d always seen in people who made it to fifty on New Vitriol ¨C and frequently even on those younger than that.


    Suon reached over to nudge Y.  ¡°Doctor, you could explain this better.¡±


    Y looked up again.  ¡°I suppose I can.  Well ¨C it is somewhat of a lengthy topic, but with our modern medical technology a human can typically expect a fairly steady physical state until around one hundred and twenty years of age ¨C it¡¯s unfortunate, but without a very thorough rewrite of your genetic code, you are hard-wired for senescence, and the maximum lifespan is approximately one hundred and fifty.¡±


    ¡°You did tell me this before,¡± Apollonia said, snapping her fingers as she remembered.  ¡°There was that judge guy, he was like five hundred.  But I mean, he looked it.¡±


    ¡°You refer to Chairman Ernesto Chung,¡± Y said.  ¡°He is currently 352 years old.  So yes, humans can live longer, through techniques such as organ cloning or transhumanism.  I speak, of course, only of lifespans that do not involve such heroic methods.  With all options on the table, we do not actually have a good idea of the possible human lifespan; there are many who are still alive that we expect will be alive for many centuries to come, perhaps even millenia, so long as they choose to keep living ¨C Chairman Chung among them, I imagine.  Given the number of replaced parts, I suppose one could raise a sort of ¡®ship of theseus¡¯ question regarding their identity, but that seems rather pedantic in my opinion.¡±


    Apollonia noticed that Kiseleva had gone silent, her eyes unfocused, her expression lost in thought.


    Y spoke again.  ¡°Frankly, Nor, I am surprised that you are as healthy as you are.  Given your difficult circumstances and raddled DNA, I would expect your growth to be much more stunted than it is.¡±


    ¡°Thanks.  I love hearing that I¡¯m stunted.¡±


    ¡°You suffered malnutrition, the biophysical markers are unmistakable, but I apologize if saying it is insulting,¡± Y said.  ¡°This was common for most people on New Vitriol, and I suspect even in Vitriol it was not uncommon.  Am I correct?¡±


    She nodded.  ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s right.  I could never get much work and there weren¡¯t handouts.¡±


    Tred looked concerned.  ¡°So how did you eat?¡±


    She¡¯d explained it before, but found that now the story had become something almost outside of her; less personal, and more of just a neutral anecdote.  ¡°People have often acted two ways towards me.  Well, no, actually it was pretty much just fear.  But when people are afraid of someone they either want to hurt them or if they feel weaker they . . . respect them.¡±


    Y tilted his head.  ¡°As far as I am aware, respect has no nutritional content.¡±


    She stared at him, unable to even tell if he was joking at this point.  ¡°They¡¯d give me food.  It wasn¡¯t a lot, I was still hungry sometimes.  But I didn¡¯t starve.¡±


    ¡°That is so barbaric,¡± Tred commented.


    Apollonia shrugged.  ¡°I suppose it was.  Though, really, I¡¯ve been surprised that you people on this ship haven¡¯t been . . . well, scared of me.¡±


    ¡°Maybe we¡¯re just a little more enlightened?¡± Tred said.  Though, Apollonia noted, he had been pretty nervous this whole time.


    Kiseleva snapped out of her thoughts to glare sternly at him.  ¡°There¡¯s a fine line between recognizing reality and being arrogant.¡±


    Tred shrunk back slightly.  ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡±


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    Y raised a hand in gesture.  ¡°I suspect that you are having a better reaction because we have already been exposed to Ambassador Kell.  There is no way to quantify this, but the effect you both have upon people ¨C especially other humans ¨C is similar.  Once we acclimated to the Ambassador, it was not as difficult to accept your own presence.¡±


    ¡°I am not like Kell!¡± Apollonia insisted sharply.


    Kiseleva looked at her curiously at that, and even Pirra, who had otherwise faded from the conversation, looked up in interest.


    ¡°My apologies,¡± the Dessei said suddenly, rising.  ¡°I need to leave.  Nice talking.¡±


    She walked away.


    The other Response officers seemed rather surprised at Pirra¡¯s departure.  Kiseleva hesitated, clearly thinking, but then an alert tone came from her system.


    ¡°There¡¯s an issue,¡± she said.  ¡°Goodbye.¡±


    ¡°Do you need me to come?¡± Suon asked.


    Kiseleva glanced at him.  ¡°You aren¡¯t in uniform.  Just enjoy the event, there are others on-duty.¡±


    ¡°All right!¡± Suon said, seeming pleased, throwing her a salute as she strode away.


    ¡°Man, she sure can¡¯t seem to get away from me fast enough.¡±


    To her surprise, Suon heard her.  ¡°Ah, she doesn¡¯t dislike you,¡± he said.  ¡°She just . . .¡±  he trailed off, his face going serious as he reconsidered his words.  ¡°She¡¯s just serious when she¡¯s on duty.¡±


    Which Apollonia thought was a lame response; she¡¯d been laughing when she came in.


    But it wasn¡¯t going to do any good arguing it with him.


    She looked up and down the man¡¯s costume.  ¡°So who are you dressed as, anyway?¡±


    The man smiled, barely visible under his holographic face.  ¡°The Omnipotent Lord, Ulu-Toyon.  From him mankind, even all animals, receive their s¨¹r.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s, uh . . . what¡¯s that?¡± Apollonia asked, her ability to snark failing her.


    ¡°It¡¯s like the soul, but connected to Shamans in particular.  Everything has them ¨C even fish.  At least ¨C that¡¯s what they used to believe in the old days.¡±


    He glanced at her, his expression almost sly a moment but then turning thoughtful.  He didn¡¯t say anything else, though, and Apollonia glanced to Y, annoyed that he was not helping to fill in the awkward silence.


    She finished her corn dog.  Angel, meanwhile, had long since finished her food, and wandered over to Tred, who seemed unsure what to make of the little dog.


    ¡°Don¡¯t start licking me again,¡± he said quietly to her.


    She moved in for the lick anyway.


    Tred rose hastily.  ¡°I should go,¡± he said, seeming glum.  ¡°Thanks for, um.¡±  He didn¡¯t finish the sentence, looking unsure what to say, then wandering off.


    ¡°Tred¡¯s having a tough day,¡± Suon said.  ¡°Not sure why, though.  He was just moping more than usual when the Sergeant and I bumped into him on the way in.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± Apollonia said.


    Finally, her curiosity got the better of her.  ¡°Why did you all come sit here with me anyway?  I mean . . . it¡¯s fine and all, I¡¯m not complaining, but we barely know each other.  I didn¡¯t even know that Tred guy¡¯s name until you said it.¡±  She frowned.  ¡°How are you even friends with him?  He¡¯s not in Response, he¡¯s Engineering, right?¡±  The colored line that represented his department was black, which she was pretty sure meant engineering, unlike Response¡¯s yellow.


    ¡°He sometimes goes on missions with Response Teams,¡± Suon told her.


    ¡°Him?  He doesn¡¯t seem the type to rush into danger.¡±


    Suon shrugged.  ¡°He¡¯s actually very skilled.  And he doesn¡¯t go under fire, but he¡¯s rated for all kinds of difficult situations.  It surprised me, too, but it is what it is.  As for you; well, it¡¯s the same, isn¡¯t it?  You saved our asses during that boarding operation.¡±


    The man¡¯s face looked bothered, stricken almost.  ¡°I was helpless.  Curled into a ball on the floor even before we got . . . near the center or whatever that was.¡±


    Apollonia almost said; the Source.  She could tell that was the word the man had sought, but hadn¡¯t quite known.


    He had felt it more than most, she thought.  Not enough to get it all, but enough to have gotten a hint.


    ¡°Well, I was pretty helpless, myself,¡± she said weakly.


    ¡°You are too modest, Nor,¡± Y said.  ¡°By all accounts, you acted with great bravery.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± Suon said.  ¡°So as far as I¡¯m concerned, you¡¯re one of us.¡±


    He gave her a friendly slap on the shoulder and rose.  ¡°I should head off as well.  See you at the parade!¡±


    Y said nothing, watching her, and Apollonia felt a strange confusion.


    Angel walked across the table and sat down in front of her.  Her mere presence was soothing, Apollonia thought.


    ¡°If you did wish to see the parade,¡± Y said.  ¡°We should go soon.  Otherwise we may get sub-optimal positions from which to view it.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a good idea,¡± Apollonia said.  ¡°You wanna go, Angel?¡±


    The dog did not understand, but seemed excited all the same as Apollonia stood up, and she scooped up her little bee.


    As they left, several people waved to them ¨C or to Y, rather, who greeted them.


    ¡°Do you come here often?¡± Apollonia asked.


    ¡°Yes, I do,¡± he replied cheerfully.


    ¡°But you don¡¯t eat, right?¡±


    ¡°No, I do not.  But it was Cenz who suggested that I start coming.  He believed it would ¡®humanize¡¯ me in the eyes of others.¡±


    Glancing around, Apollonia did see plenty of people looking at the doctor.  But while some were friendly, she saw anxiety on others.


    Probably cheating on their diets, she reasoned.  Bad luck to have your doctor come around when you got extra cake.


    ¡°Well, I did appreciate your company, even if you did seem very distracted by that book.  What are you reading, anyway?¡±


    ¡°Ah, yes, I do apologize.  I did not want to interfere in your human socializations too much ¨C it is good to talk to others besides just me!¡± Y said.


    Apollonia scowled at him.  He looked back at her, his metal face guilless, even though she knew he really possessed it in abundance.


    But she couldn¡¯t stay mad at him.


    ¡°Cenz suggested I appear to read at the social meal,¡± Y continued.  ¡°And I have a hobby of collecting old medium of information storage, from human books to Dessei feather fans.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but what is the book?¡± Apollonia insisted.


    Y held it towards her.  ¡°It is called ¡®The Bible¡¯.¡±


    ¡°Never heard of it,¡± she replied.


    ¡°They are common artifacts ¨C it is estimated to have been the most published book of all time.  I cannot be sure of that, but they are numerous.  It is a religious text from a religion called Christianity.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I have heard of that one.  Some people still believe in it, right?¡±


    ¡°Yes, a small minority of people in the Sapient Union are adherents, the majority of a branch called Catholics, while other denominations exist in smaller quantities.  It is even less common in Gohhi, though, as their religious ideals are not seen to mesh well with laissez faire capitalism.¡±


    Apollonia shrugged.  ¡°I never even believed in my own religion.  The reality of growing up in a religious colony that was so shitty made sure of that.¡±  She thought for a moment of Father Sair and his faith . . . but she dismissed the thought right now.  He had invited her to come visit him today, promising a day of calm prayer and contemplation, but she had turned it down.  She felt a bit guilty about it, but she wasn¡¯t beholden to him or anyone.


    ¡°What do you . . . think of religion?¡± she asked.  ¡°Do your people have anything like it?¡±


    Y recoiled slightly.  ¡°Hahaha.  No.  We have nothing of the sort.  However, do not take that as a stance of negativity ¨C I cannot pass judgment on it.  I understand full well that religion has played a role in many civilizations, and what I am attempting to do is understand it from the context of the times they come from.  Only to understand, mind you.¡±


    ¡°So . . . how¡¯s that going?¡±


    Y looked at the book.  ¡°Poorly.  To be honest, it is just hard for me to imagine the privations that humans so long ago had to suffer.  I cannot know hunger or thirst.  I cannot truly understand what it is like to live in a world that has not been carefully managed in a way that is imicable to my form of life, nor can I feel the level of uncertainty they had about how their world even worked.  I have simply never had that level of . . .¡±  He trailed off, seeming to struggle for a word.


    ¡°Ignorance?¡± Apollonia suggested.  ¡°Helplessness?¡±


    He nodded.  ¡°Yes.  Again, I do not mean that judgmentally ¨C though my people learn and grow, we begin life with a level of knowledge far beyond any biological lifeform.  So it is just . . . difficult to imagine.  But I would like to know.  Perhaps one day I will understand why so many believed in a god and loved the being so much.  I may never, and if I do not, then I must simply accept; this is who those humans were.  I find them no less for their beliefs.¡±


    Apollonia stopped, looking up at Y for a moment.  He stopped as well, watching her.


    ¡°Damn it, Y, you¡¯re scary good at talking,¡± she said.

 Episode 11 - Part 9

    Kiseleva pounded on the door.  ¡°Open up immediately!¡± she called through her system, letting her voice flood into the room beyond.


    Behind her, a dozen drones and three more Response officers stood ready in full gear.


    The door opened, and Cathal Sair looked out at them, surprised.


    ¡°Oh, hello.  What can I-¡°


    ¡°Where is the fire?¡± Kiseleva demanded, pushing in past him.


    She scanned the room ¨C and saw the large metal bowl with the small fire burning within.


    That was it?


    The alarm that had summoned her had been severe ¨C any open flame was a major danger on a ship.  But the system had indicated that the fire was uncontrolled, not . . . just a fire bowl.


    But it was still an open fire, she reasoned, annoyed at the system, herself, and the Priest all at once.  It couldn¡¯t stay.


    ¡°Put it out,¡± she ordered.


    Drones swept in, spraying a solution onto the fire that doused the flames with a great hiss.


    ¡°What is the meaning of this?¡± Sair said, his words somewhat stern.  ¡°We are merely holding a ceremony!¡±


    ¡°There are no open flames allowed on the Craton,¡± Kiseleva said.  ¡°Not without special permission and precautions.¡±


    Sair took the words in unhappily, but nodded.  ¡°I am sorry, I was not aware.  I did not mean to cause trouble, officer . . . ?¡±


    ¡°Kiseleva,¡± she supplied.  ¡°You do understand that this is a hazard on board a starship, do you not?  A fire can spread within a vessel and if it reached oxygen tanks it could be disastrous.  Or if our atmosphere was of the wrong mixture, it could have ignited the air itself.¡±


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    ¡°I am afraid that those possibilities had not occurred to me,¡± Sair replied.  ¡°On Gohhi there were no such stipulations.¡±


    Which, Kiseleva knew, was part lax rules and part because Gohhi couldn¡¯t possibly have controlled people enough to prevent them from making fires ¨C let alone the people who liked to smoke some sort of drug.  They were forced to use an atmospheric cocktail more conducive to an open flame.


    The Craton¡®s atmosphere was not in danger of exploding, but an open flame was still not allowed, with very few exceptions.


    ¡°If you had wished to have a fire, you would need to apply with Administration and special accommodations could be made,¡± Kiseleva told him.


    ¡°I deeply apologize,¡± Father Sair said, offering a bow.


    She still felt displeased, but accepted his bow with a nod.  ¡°For that reason we will not press any charges ¨C normally an unregistered fire is a misdemeanor.¡±


    ¡°Are you certain that is right?¡± Sair asked.  ¡°I am willing to accept punishment for my actions.¡±


    She regarded him with an annoyed curiosity; did he want to be punished?


    ¡°I am making the call,¡± she said flatly.


    He nodded.  ¡°Then I thank you.  May I still apply for permission for the fire?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± she told him.  Then, feeling that perhaps it sounded too harsh, as if a punishment, she added; ¡°Due to the holiday, Admin is closed for anything except emergencies.¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± Sair replied, seeming for the first time upset.  ¡°Does it make a difference if it is an important part of my religious observance of the holiday?¡±


    ¡°Not really,¡± Kiseleva replied.  ¡°Religious groups are considered a form of club or interest group, and must follow normal operating hours.¡±


    Sair bowed his head.  ¡°I must see what substitute I can come up with that will be acceptable, then.¡±


    ¡°A holographic bowl,¡± Kiseleva suggested.  ¡°They can be quite convincing.  If you require heat, some can provide that functionality.  Simply go down to the nearest Requisition Depot.  If you have the Ex, you can get one.¡±


    ¡°Will the price be higher due to the holiday?¡± Sair asked.


    ¡°We don¡¯t raise prices arbitrarily,¡± she replied.


    The drones began to lift up his fire bowl, and he watched with concern.  ¡°Do I lose my bowl as well?¡±


    ¡°They will clean and remove the soot that could be hazardous and then return it,¡± one of the other officers said.


    ¡°Please be careful, it is a blessed bowl,¡± Sair said quickly, worriedly.


    ¡°They will treat it with the same care they treat all things,¡± Kiseleva said, heading for the door.  ¡°Which will be more than adequate for its safety.¡±


    She headed to the door, looking back.  Automatically, she was about to wish him a nice holiday.  But seeing the look on his face, she thought it might come off as mocking.


    Without anything else to say, she left.

 Episode 11 - Part 10

    ¡°Hundreds of years ago,¡± Brooks spoke, his words echoing across the Equator and through the Craton.  ¡°The great seed fleet, the Children of the Stars, suffered great calamity.¡±


    He smiled lightly.  ¡°At least ¨C that is how the stories have gone.  But in the way that all of humanity have pressed on through adversity, so did they, so that their descendants are with us still, and humanity as a whole is stronger and more prosperous than at any other time in our history.  United, powerful, and in full control of our destinies, we still remember this date to show our connection to times in the past when we were not so fortunate ¨C when the struggle was far grander than those we can imagine today.¡±


    He gestured upwards, towards the vast vista of stars visible through the windows over their heads.  ¡°There are no demons of the Dark, however much old spacers might swear by them.  But that doesn¡¯t mean we can¡¯t have a good time trying to scare them, does it?  And I think that this year is probably our most horrifying yet!¡±


    He gestured expansively, to some applause, towards the front of the parade of costumes that were waiting.  ¡°So let us all enjoy the great work of these costumers, and remember our history and think of our future!  A wonderful Darkeve to everyone, and may dawn come tomorrow!¡±


    *******


    Hundreds of people came marching through, their costumes dazzling in spectacle, concept, and execution.


    One man who was apparently transhuman had traded in his legs for a horse-like body, complete with its own head, and dressed in ancient armor.  Behind him marched a legion of tiny robots that moved in lockstep and heeded his every command, dressed in matching armor ¨C an entire army.


    A Sepht had covered most of her body in a material that bent the light around her, rendering her nearly invisible, and used every one of her limbs to move beautifully-reconstructed fish so that it appeared that a whole school of them were swimming down the lane.


    Another person walked on stilts, their legs wrapped in that same invisible cloth, with discrete drones moving edges of its sheer white rags in a billowing way, making it appear to be a floating apparition, complete with soul-curdling cries.


    Others were more light-hearted; a robot costume that could transform into a car when they knelt down and even drive around; a handful of children who were giggling and floating fairies, carried by fleets of drones.


    People who looked like historical figures to the most minute detail, people who had invented characters or beings of incredibly outlandish styles yet managed to pull them off perfectly.


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    Apollonia¡¯s favorite was the man with twenty-foot extensions on his arms and legs, with extra limbs that were programmed to react to his movements in pre-determined ways ¨C thus he was able to be a spider so large that it towered over the entire crowd.


    One thing Apollonia did not notice was anything she might truly know; sure a few people were dressed as characters from shows she had known (including The Last Throne, to her slight annoyance), but there was nothing . . .


    Eldritch.


    Surely the rumors about the recent events on the pirate ship had made the rounds.  They always seemed to.  Yet despite that, no one had tried dressing up as the terrifying Source ¨C or anything that seemed inspired by Leviathans.


    Too soon? she wondered.  Or were some things just taboo?


    ¡°The Captain was supposed to be leading the parade,¡± Y noted.  ¡°Curious that we have not seen him.¡±


    He was in a different costume now, having changed bodies at some point.  It was an eclectic collection of clothing; a purple robe over a scruffy greenish-tan shirt, with some kind of silver tags hanging around his neck.  Light shorts and a cowboy hat completed the ensemble.  She had no idea who he was, but right now she was not inclined to ask.


    ¡°He was at the beginning,¡± she called back, barely audible over the din.


    ¡°Yes, but not for long,¡± Y noted.


    That was true; she had seen him step out there, but after only a few tens of meters he stepped discreetly to the side while one of the flashier costumes passed, and disappeared into the crowd.


    Making up her mind, Apollonia picked up Angel and ducked through the crowd, moving towards where the Captain had gone.  Y began to follow her, but he was a larger figure and had more difficulty weaving between people.


    She caught sight of Brooks, but then she saw Zeela Cann making a beeline for him.


    Through a gap in the crowd she saw the two exchange words briefly; Cann was clearly very annoyed, and as Apollonia drew closer she heard a few words.


    ¡°. . . barely half of the speech we wrote . . .¡±


    Brooks¡¯s back was to her, though, and whatever he said in reply was short, but got a nod from Cann.  Brooks moved away, and Apollonia decided not to come any closer.  Zeela looked unhappy, but containing it.


    So there was probably a good reason, Apollonia thought.


    Y stepped up behind her; his shadow looming over hers.


    ¡°Nor, I am afraid I must leave for a time,¡± he said.  ¡°Would you mind terribly?¡±


    She glanced over at the doctor, smiling.  He sounded so damn sincere, and she wondered what he¡¯d say if she said she did mind.


    ¡°No, go ahead!  I¡¯ll be here,¡± she said.  ¡°And my little bee.¡±


    Y bowed politely, twice ¨C once to her, then once to Angel, and walked away ¨C not physically leaving but entering into an alcove.  She knew he was simply going to activate a body elsewhere on the ship wherever it was he was needed.  Probably the medical wing, she guessed.


    Glancing back to the parade, she did a double-take as an entire copse of trees appeared to be walking, with a selection of perfect animal facsimiles living in and among them, from ground to branches.


    Behind that, a handful of people dressed as starships cruised in a fancy formation, little toy missiles firing out of them only to pop into dazzling fireworks.


    The crowd roared approval, and Apollonia turned back towards the parade, holding up Angel so the little dog could get a better view.


    She¡¯d find out what was up with Y later; after what she had seen so far, she was eager to see the rest of the parade.

 Episode 11 - Part 11

    As the parade of costumes passed by him, Tred tried to distract himself by figuring out how they were constructed.


    That flying specter was clearly just a series of drones, with the controller on the ground below wearing a stealth suit.


    Another, a giant skeleton wearing ancient and elaborate finery, was a bit more difficult; there seemed to be no obvious machinery in the extended limbs, nothing other than simple LEDs in the glowing sockets.  The smoke that escaped from its mouth when it opened was from the melting of frozen carbon dioxide.


    Then he saw the cables snaking from the limbs around the clavicle and down into the ribs.


    It was just wires and pulleys!  That was clever, no electronics, nothing fancy, just some good engineering!


    He smiled slightly, wondering who the great designer of that costume was; during the parade the contestants had their identities hidden from the general public, to make voting for Best Costume more fair.


    One was allowed to vote for every costume they liked, and at the end of the parade, whoever had accrued the most points would be crowned winner.


    Most people just voted for every costume, he knew.  But he only voted once for his absolute favorite; sometimes he liked to think that he was the only one who did that, and when they won it was due to his vote alone.


    He cast his vote for the ancient skeleton costume, feeling a happier for it.


    The errant thought of making his own costume popped into his head.  He entertained the idea every Darkeve, but he¡¯d never followed through with it.  It was true that no one would know it was him in the costume, and he knew that technically he could make something fantastic.


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    But he¡¯d never come up with an actual costume idea worth making.  At least, he told himself that, but really the biggest factor was thinking about if he actually won.  At the end of the parade he¡¯d have to reveal himself!


    What if people were disappointed that they¡¯d voted for Boniface Tred?


    Though most probably didn¡¯t even know who he was.


    Feeling suddenly self-conscious, he turned away from the parade, moving towards a relatively empty area.


    A woman nearly bumped into him, offering him a bright smile; she had coated her teeth in a material that turned them into a screen, and they showed a swooping spirit, followed by the words ¡®Happy Darkeve¡¯.


    He smiled back awkwardly and brushed past her.


    Reaching the wall, he leaned on it, turning in on himself.  He felt worse than normal.  Not sick, just . . . unhappy.


    He took a few moments of deep breaths, ignoring the crowd as they oohed and ahhed at different fantastic costumes.


    He¡¯d probably get too tired to keep going, if he did make a costume, he thought.  One had to walk the circumference of the Craton on the upper equator level, then back down and go on the under level as well!  Over six kilometers.


    Something caught his attention.


    A dozen meters away, through a hole in the crowd, he saw a drone.


    It was not just any drone; it was the drone he had made for Ambassador Jophiel.


    His heart skipped a beat, realizing that she had come, after all.  He took a step forward.


    Cenz stepped up next to her, his heavy arm gesturing towards the parade, his electronic face changing expression as he talked to her.


    Oh.


    Tred froze.  Jophiel had come to the parade, yes.  Just not with him.


    It took his mind several long moments to process that.


    With a jerk, he realized he was standing and staring openly; if either Cenz or Jophiel looked his way, they¡¯d see him staring like an idiot.


    He forced himself to turn, staggering away, bumping into people, who let out surprised cries.


    ¡°Are you all right?¡± one man asked him.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± he said.


    He was fine.  This was not bad.  Jophiel had no obligation to go with him to the parade.  She did not have to even be honest about it; this was just bad luck that he¡¯d run into them at all.  He should never even have known.


    But he did, he thought.  And despite knowing it was all okay, he felt . . .


    Absolutely terrible.

 Episode 11 - Part 12

    Brooks knew he must be looking very displeased, as Urle came into the office and did a double-take upon seeing the expression on his face.


    "It''s that bad?" Urle asked.


    "Bad enough," Brooks said.  "The ship isn''t in danger, but we need to wait for Y."


    The door opened, and the doctor loped into the room.


    Under different circumstances, Brooks would have been amused; this body, too, was in a costume, one that took him a moment to even parse out.  There was only one element to the costume; paperclips.  His entire body was covered in them.


    "Paperclip Maximizer," Urle said with a laugh.


    Y nodded.  "Excellent observational skills," he said.  "But my costume is not why we are here, is it, Captain?"


    "No," Brooks said.  He paused to think and gather his thoughts, stroking his chin with his thumb for a moment.


    "Some time ago when we were on Gohhi, I made contact with an information broker going under the name Vermillion Dawn."


    Y perked up.  Urle was slower to understand the significance.


    "Oh," he said with surprise.  "Your secret contact that helped you find Hoc Rem?"


    "Yes," Brooks said.  "And in return for her help I owe her a favor, which she now wishes to collect."


    He paused, hating that he had to ask this.  "And she wishes to meet with you, Doctor.  Not on the ship, but at a location of her choosing."


    Urle glanced to Y, then back to Brooks.  But he said nothing.


    "I can assume," Y said, speaking slowly.  "That this person is no mere information broker.  Your connection to her is personal."


    Brooks''s eyes widened.  "How did you-"


    "Please, Captain, let us dispense with all outward pretenses," Y said.  "This matter is serious, you clearly understand.  Your behavior, micro-expressions, but largely the fact that you would even entertain this request enough to speak to me about it tells me that this is no mere acquaintance.  Therefore I must ask; how much do you trust this Vermillion Dawn?"


    Brooks answered without hesitation.  "If she asked to meet me I would go without fear.  But it''s not me she''s asking for."


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    Y studied him a moment and Brooks wondered just how much the machine could tell - or infer - about his emotions here.  Probably far more than he was comfortable with.


    "I am afraid I don''t see the problem," Urle said.  "With respects, Doctor, even if this information broker tried to take you hostage or something, you can self-destruct your current body and reboot from a backup here.  Not that that''s a light course of action, but there seems to be very little threat here."


    "The danger," Brooks said.  "Is that we don''t know what or why Dawn is asking for this meeting."


    "And even from what the rumors are, she is not one to underestimate," Y said.  "While all you say is true, Executive Commander, we must accept that there is the possibility that she could take me ''alive'' and intact, and attempt to study my code."


    "The sanctity of which is the most important principle of the treaty that has your people in the Union," Brooks continued.


    "The inviolate nature of our programming is indeed a large reason few of my people leave our home territory," Y commented.  "And I have faced no little criticism in certain circles for joining with the Union fleet and facing greater threats."


    "I know that it''s the uniqueness of that code that makes you sapient, but of what value is it to her?" Urle asked.


    "That is, frankly, unimportant," Y replied.  "What does matter is that it is our secret and we do not wish to share it, while many others wish to understand our inner workings."


    "All right," Urle replied.  "Do we know that your code is what she''s really after?"


    "No," Brooks said.


    "But she almost certainly is," Y commented.  "Unless the rumors are quite wrong, Vermillion Dawn is almost entirely post-biological.  I doubt that she requires my medical services.  There is little else to make meeting me worthwhile."


    "It could still just be curiosity, or other reasons," Urle said.


    "She''s trading in a debt for this," Brooks said.  "She would not do that on a whim."


    "So what do we do?" Urle asked.


    Brooks looked to Y.  "I will not ask you to go if you don''t wish to."


    Y hesitated.  "While I am not pleased at the potential risks, I admit - I have a certain curiosity.  You surely noticed that I knew the name of this information broker - she is no minor figure.  My people have dealt with her before, and even we have a respect for her.  She is effective in ways that we are not - but we have never actually encountered her."


    He held up a hand.  "I am actually somewhat interested in meeting her for that reason alone."


    "I will be with you," Brooks said.  "She did not wish to see me, but I was not forbidden to come.  I will do everything in my power to be sure that you remain safe."


    "While I thank you for that, Captain, you will almost certainly not be allowed to come," Y said.  "And the fact that you were not forbidden was only to give you the hope that you could.  No; I will have to go alone.  Bring up the topic if you wish, of course."


    He paused, then continued thoughtfully.  "This meeting must occur with total secrecy," Y said.  "It is best anyway if you remain here to avoid drawing too much curiosity.  Already your absence from the parade will have been noticed - as well as yours, Executive Commander Urle.  I can put one of my bodies into a low-intelligence automated mode so that my absence is not felt."


    Y''s words about him being manipulated with hope stung.  Brooks hated that Y was probably right that he was being worked in this way, but there was little to do but move forward.


    "I am sorry to have drawn you into this.  I would not have agreed to this debt if I had known it would involve others."


    "It was a worthy trade at the time," Y said.  "I am, after all, an officer of the Union.  Even if I only rarely am exposed to genuine risk, I do not shy from it."

 Episode 11 - Part 13

    Pirra cheered delightedly as an ancient spirit from Dessei mythology danced through the parade.


    It was an impossibly thin, multi-legged being that moved with more grace than any real creature, floating over the floor as if gravity was merely an idea.


    The stealthsuit the controller wore was a high-quality one that surely cost plenty of Ex, and bent light in the human-visible spectrum enough to make them nearly invisible.


    But the suit was clearly tailored for human vision only; Dessei saw in a slightly different range than they did, and so she could see the controller in a vivid shade of ultraviolet.  They were actually very hard to miss.


    But she wouldn''t take points off for that!  She excitedly gave them a vote, wondering for a moment if it had been a mistake to vote for every costume so far.  To some extent she did wish everyone well, but she had also loved every costume that had come along!


    The only thing missing was her own partner.


    It was a good thing that she and Alexander had decided not to take part in the parade.  Sure, their costumes were not nearly as amazing as most, but they were good!  They''d even had them made out of the closest materials they could get on the ship to historic Earth outfits.  And though she found them somewhat uncomfortable, they looked great.


    Admittedly, she had hoped they might join in last-second.  There was plenty of space left at the end, and she had her Tommy Gun with its special ship-safe blanks for a reason!


    Where was Alexander?


    He had to be in the crowd, but he hadn''t answered her last call.  He probably had his hands full or something, but still, he could at least have picked up . . .


    A call from him came in, and her heart jumped.


    "Alex!" she said excitedly, picking up.  "I''m down near Watchito''s-"


    "Hey," Alexander''s voice came.  He sounded subdued, and she felt her elation dissipate.


    "Alex, are you okay?" she asked.


    "Yeah," he said quickly.  "I mean, I''m not hurt or anything . . ."


    "Did something happen?" she asked sharply, her voice slipping into a professional Response tone.


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    "Nothing like that.  I''m sorry, Pirra, I just . . . kind of don''t feel well.  I''m still at home."


    She was silent a moment.  "Oh," she finally said.  "Are you sick?" she added after a moment.


    "Maybe.  I don''t have a fever, it''s just . . . I guess I don''t feel very energetic.  I tried taking a stim, but it didn''t do a lot."  He paused.  "I really hate to disappoint you, but . . ."


    "If you''re not feeling well, you should stay home," she said firmly.  "Get a medical drone to check you out, just to be safe."


    "Okay," he said.  She could hear the relief in his voice.  "And Pirra? Try to have fun, okay?"


    The parade continued, and Pirra went back to upvote the costumes she hadn''t even seen during her call.


    Right now they''d gotten into a military theme, with a unit of people all in their own Heavy Armor Suits marching together.  Each one was unique, with paint themes ranging from historic to modern to bright pinks with flowers and even some based on cultural characters.  She recognized some from her studies of historic human culture and excitedly started cheering again.


    "Hey, I know that voice!"


    Turning, Pirra saw Iago waving.  She waved back, hurrying over.


    Iago''s costume was just an old Response uniform, a style that pre-dated his time on the Craton.  Probably something he actually had in his closet, she thought.


    Next to him, Elliot waved as well, beaming.  His costume was far more involved; he had fur all over much of his body, with torn old-style human clothes.


    "I''m so happy I ran into you!" Pirra said.


    "Your costume is great!  That''s from the 20th century, right?" Iago asked.


    "Yes!" she replied.  "I''m Bonnie Parker, an old criminal!"


    "Nice, I thought that might be it, but I wasn''t sure enough to guess," Iago replied with a laugh.


    "I can see who you are," she replied.  "Lazing out and just wearing an old uniform."


    "Well, I had to throw it together at the last second," Iago replied, glancing past her.  She turned and looked as well and saw someone striding by in a four-meter tall robot suit that was really just some clever use of stilts and piping.


    "Were you not going to come?"  She glanced around.  "Is Cass here?"


    "No, she didn''t want to come out," Iago said lightly.  "For her religion, Darkeve is kind of a somber occasion."


    "Oh, I see," Pirra replied.


    That would explain why he hadn''t planned on coming.


    She looked to Elliot.  "Your costume is great!" she added.  "What kind of creature are you?"


    "I''m a werewolf!" he said, bearing long fangs and letting out a howl.  "On ancient Earth they once thought people could get cursed and turn into these when the moonlight hit them!  They went around and broke stuff and ripped people apart!"


    He howled - his sound enhanced by some device that turned it from comical to genuinely blood-chilling.


    "That''s so cool!" she said.  "I''ve heard of them, there were a lot of movies about them in earlier times!"


    "Dad won''t let me watch those," Elliot said.  "He wouldn''t even let me put blood or guts on my claws."


    "Don''t act so disappointed," Iago chided his son, clapping a hand onto his furry shoulder.  "You saved a lot of Ex, the good fake blood and guts costs a lot and isn''t even worth it."


    Elliot glanced up at his dad, surprised, and Pirra nodded.  "It''s true.  One year your dad and I went as people who had died in a meteor accident.  Blood and guts trailing everywhere.  It was a great idea, but they looked so fake people actually laughed."


    Iago sighed.  "They just don''t make ''em on the Craton like they do in a full system," he said.


    "Wow," Elliot replied, eyes wide.  "I want to see those costumes!"


    "Well, they were a little wild," Iago admitted.


    Pirra shifted.  Yes, those had been worn to a private party and they had been . . . risque at best, for the both of them.  It wasn''t a time she was keen on bringing back up visually, especially since she had never told Alexander about it.


    Granted, it had been before Iago had even introduced the two of them . . .


    "Hey, Pirra, have you seen the Executive Commander?" Iago asked, changing the topic.  "Elliot has some candy for Hannah."


    "Daaaad," Elliot whined.  "Not everyone has to know!"


    "Oooh, you got her a gift?" Pirra asked, smiling and crouching slightly to be on his level.


    "It''s just a bag of sqipz," Elliot muttered, looking away.


    "That''s so sweet!" she chirped, rising.  "But no - I haven''t seen him.  I''m sure he''s around, though.  He''s dressesd up as an Earth tree - I don''t think you can miss him."


    "Okay, we''ll go looking for him, then," Iago said.


    The parade was almost halfway over, Pirra noted.  She quickly upvoted the last few costumes.


    As Iago and Elliot moved away, a sudden urge came to her.  "I''ll go with you!"

 Episode 11 - Part 14

    "Dr. Y has agreed to the meeting," Brooks said.


    He could hear how pleased the voice on the other end of the line was.  "Very good, Captain.  I was skeptical that you would keep your word, but our mutual friend was certain.  I am glad to know that she was right and I was wrong."


    The smugness in his voice irked Brooks.


    "I''ll be sure to congratulate her when I see her," he replied.  "We will be leaving within the hour, but we do not have a destination yet."


    "You are not invited, Captain," the voice returned.


    "It was never a condition that I not come, and so I am coming," Brooks said.  "It is already arranged."


    "Plans will have to change then," the man replied.  "Your absence would be noted, after all.  Haven''t you a parade to be leading?"


    Brooks felt his anger rise, and he fought it down.  "I am coming."


    "Then the meeting is off," the man said.  "And our mutual friend will be most displeased to find out."


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    "I must be sure of the safety of my crew," Brooks replied shortly, struggling to keep calm.  "Therefore-"


    "Therefore you are simply going to have to trust your old friend," the man replied, his voice suddenly cold.  "You do not get a say in this.  You are repaying a debt you incurred willingly.  Will it be said that you attempted to put conditions on it?  You do not have that right."


    Brooks wanted to argue it; insist.  But the ramifications would be heavy.  If Dawn truly did not want him to be there this badly, then going anyway would do no good.


    And they both knew that his presence would not be a protection for Y.  He would be far easier to neutralize than the Ehni; even his lowest-quality bodies were faster and stronger than any human, and resilient against far more dangers.


    "Fine," Brooks finally said.  "I trust that all of you understand the reality of this situation; I will pay the debt.  Your conduct with the doctor will determine if there is anything else that needs settling."


    "Good, good," the man replied, sounding once again pleased, Brooks''s veiled threat seemingly having no effect upon him.  "You will send the Doctor in a shuttle and through a dashgate to these coordinates.  There he will find a ship that he will dock with.  And there the meeting will take place."


    Brooks felt his impotent anger burning, but he kept his voice calm as he replied.  "Very well."


    "And Captain?" the man said.


    Brooks braced himself for whatever taunt the man would sling, but he was surprised.


    "She sends her regards," the man said.  Then the call was ended.

 Episode 11 - Part 15

    "What?" Apollonia yelled, trying to be heard over the crowd.


    People were bumping into them, shouting and yelling in excitement as the winners of the parade were being announced.  They''d started with number 20; the giant spider, who was now striding up onto the stage to accept their prize.


    Kiseleva''s face, while always beautiful, seemed oddly out of place being unadorned, not hidden by makeup or a mask.  It was twisted in annoyance, and she held up a tablet.


    Words were on the screen:


    "Come with me."


    "Now?" Apollonia shouted.


    The woman nodded sharply, beckoning her sharply.


    Giving a glance back to the spider man, who was now descending from his costume on a rope that looked like silk, she reluctantly followed Kiseleva.


    Angel came with her.  The dog seemed slightly alarmed by the giant crowds, almost becoming a tripping hazard she stayed so close.


    As soon as they stepped into a side hall, Apollonia stopped.  "Okay, what is it?  I don''t want to miss the rest of the parade."


    Kiseleva frowned again.  "You aren''t going back.  You have training."


    "What?" Apollonia said.  "I haven''t trained in days!"


    "Exactly," Kiseleva replied calmly.  "It was a temporary pause and you must start again."


    Apollonia threw her hands out in the direction of the parade.  "But it''s a holiday!"


    "Officers frequently have to be on duty during holidays.  Do you think we get a choice?  No.  We do our duty."


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    "Yes, but-"


    "It is a sacrifice," Kiseleva said with finality.


    So.  That was it, Apollonia thought.  They were going to take this from her to prove some stupid point.


    She fought for inner calm.  This was not the end of the world, it was just . . . well, it was really upsetting.


    It wasn''t like she''d ever gotten to really celebrate any holiday, and she was going to miss this one, too.


    Her outward anger faded into a dull bitterness that she knew she''d just have to swallow.


    Maybe she''d ask Brooks if she could have the next holiday all to herself, just as a favor . . .


    Or Y could give her a medical exemption!  He''d probably do that, she could argue it was for psychological reasons.


    Kiseleva started off, and Apollonia jogged to catch up with her.  Her regular exercise with Jaya in the mornings was maybe starting to tell, she thought.


    "I''ve been exercising every day," she said to Kiseleva.  She knew the woman thought she was a noodle.


    "Good," the woman replied shortly.  She seemed irritated if anything.


    And that felt like a rebuke.  She was trying!  She should get some points for that.


    They boarded a lift that would take them back into the heart of the ship.


    Most of the ship''s decks treated the front nose of the ship as ''up'', but the Equator Ring was an exception.  Apollonia hadn''t even realized until she''d seen a map recently, but the halls and lifts into the area turned, reorienting the gravity so that the floor was ''sideways'' relative to the rest of the ship.  It was strange, but made sense so they could have the view of space above them.


    It was a nice advantage to artificial gravity, she mused.  One could place it going any direction they wanted.


    "What are we going to be doing?" she asked.


    "Studying astronavigation," Kiseleva told her.  "Do you have any prior experience?"


    "I think I made a mobile of the Tede System one of the times I got some schooling.  It was paper and foam, mostly."


    Kiseleva seemed unsure if she was joking or not, but continued on.  "Astronavigation is a very difficult science," she said.  "For obvious reasons."


    "Absolutely," Apollonia said.  "Obvious reasons."


    Kiseleva shot her a look.  Apollonia bit her lip.


    "Being lost in space is no joking matter.  And all objects are moving, often at different rates and in different directions, making it nearly impossible to find an object upon which to orient.  On top of that, traveling interstellar distances means you are also essentially traveling in time, so all objects you observe will look quite different depending on your location in the galaxy."


    Apollonia found herself without a witty retort.  The idea of being lost in space was a terrifying one, and she found herself intrigued.  "So how do you do it?" she asked.


    Kiseleva smiled, very slightly.  "I will show you."

 Episode 11 - Part 16

    Y''s body was still in the control room with him while Brooks prepared the shuttle for launch.


    There was no crew in this area; no cargo was expected and so the bay was totally empty.


    This bay was rarely used, too; at the aft of the ship, between where the three massive heat radiators came out of the Craton''s aft.


    Most of the time it was covered in a perfect mirrored shield to deflect any light that hit it.  In times of intense action, the Craton''s radiators could get extremely hot, and absorbing back any of the heat that they were shedding was self-defeating.


    But right now the Craton was at rest; while the radiators still glowed a dull red, the threat of re-absorbed heat was minimal.


    Being back here at the aft of the ship meant that no one would see the shuttle launch, though, and that''s what mattered.


    "It''s nearly ready," Brooks said.  "Go ahead and board."


    "I am," Y said.


    Through the transparent aluminum windows of the launch control room, Brooks could see another body of Y''s walking onto the shuttle.


    "Once it is launching, I will deactivate this body and fully activate the one on the shuttle," Y continued.  "In keeping with Union laws regarding my copies.  While I am gone, Captain, I will leave a shell-copy of myself in a simple response mode.  It will not be a complex copy of myself, merely a well-taught algorithm.  My primary core on the ship will be inactivated awaiting my return or . . . well, not return."


    Brooks paused, wondering if Y resented the limitations placed upon him.  On Union ships that did not belong to the Ehni, they could only inhabit and control one body at a time, aside from doing minor tasks like moving them.  It kept with the Union''s careful stance on preventing the proliferation of artificial intelligence, which posed severe ethical questions, as well as prevented a potential drain on ship resources.  If an Ehni copied themselves, then they each were their own being with their own will.  There was then double the risk that they might do it again.


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    Two high-powered AIs on a ship could be accommodated.  But if it happened again, then any of the three might do it again, and were likely smart enough to cover their tracks and hide which did it.  It would only increase the temptation and chances of a catastrophic growth.


    A thousand high-powered AIs on a ship could cause a crippling drain on its systems.  And each copied AI would have its own desire for self-preservation to contend with; deleting them was tantamount to murder.


    "All right," Brooks said.


    Y''s body began to move towards the door, to go to the nearest charging alcove.  But he paused, turning back.  "If I may ask a favor, Captain . . ."


    "Of course," Brooks said.  "You''re the one helping me, after all."


    "Please try to keep Nor away from me while I am gone.  She is more intelligent than most realize, and . . . she possesses gifts that I cannot yet comprehend.  She will see through the charade with my shells, I am convinced.  I do not want her be alarmed when I am not home."


    Brooks nodded solemnly.  "I understand, I will make sure she does not encounter you."


    Y nodded, still holding there just a minute, pointedly watching him before finally walking out the door.


    "I am now aboard the shuttle, Captain," Y messaged.


    "I wish you a safe trip," Brooks told him.


    The air was draining from the room.  When it was as close to a vacuum as could be reasonably be made, the bay doors slid open.


    The shuttle slid out into space beyond silently.  Once it was a hundred meters from the entrance, its thrusters roared to life, and in moments it had pulled away from the ship.


    "Jaya," Brooks called up to the bridge.  "Sending out a milk run.  Open a dash gate," he ordered.


    A milk run was a fairly routine thing; sometimes the ship needed something unexpectedly, and they''d send an automated shuttle out, sending it to the nearest supply station.  There was one in the system, a minor base, but the whole story was plausible enough, and as Captain he could authorize such a launch.  At the station, they''d get a request from the shuttle to forward it on, which again was not an unusual request.


    "I copy, Captain," Jaya replied.  "Opening dashgate."


    Brooks watched on the scopes until the shuttle was gone.


    Once it was, he sighed.  He could only wait now.


    Re-pressurizing the shuttle bay, he then erased the logs, replacing them with data that would back his milk run story.


    Then, through his HUD he switched to an external view.  It was almost enough to convince the eyes that he was still looking through the open bay door into the blackness of space itself.


    He scanned until he could see the direction that Y was heading off to.  Somewhere, off that direction, he knew, was a gate that would catch Y''s shuttle.  He could not know where, but it was along that heading.


    She was out there.


    He lingered a few moments before turning off the external view and heading back towards the celebration.

 Episode 11 - Part 17

    Kiseleva paused, putting a hand up to her ear.  Her brow furrowed as she listened, and Apollonia stopped as well.


    "Something going on?" she asked the Response officer.


    The woman listened a moment longer, typed a quick response, and just as quickly got an answer.


    "There''s been a change of plans," she said.


    "What changed?" Apollonia asked.


    They were walking down a sloping hall from one deck to another, and ahead Apollonia could see a sign labelled Astronavigation.


    "This way," Kiseleva said, turning at the bottom of the ramp and heading towards a lift.


    "Wait, but this is Astronav, right?" Apollonia asked, pointing to the sign.


    She''d never been in this area, it was the science section, judging by the number of officers walking around with the green sash of that department.


    Everything looked sleek and neat, like in every dumb movie she''d ever seen where scientists had rooms of the most advanced equipment.  But this was real, not a film set.  She wanted to see more.


    "We are not doing that now," Kiseleva said.  She sounded rather unhappy.


    "Why?" Apollonia asked.


    "There has been a change in plans," the woman repeated, stepping up to a bank of lifts.


    One of the doors opened and she stepped in.


    Apollonia took one last look around the science deck and then followed her.


    The doors closed, and she glanced at her tablet to see what floor they were headed to.


    They were going deep into the ship.  There were something like three hundred decks on the Craton - a fact she''d only actually learned the day before - and they were heading to deck 282.


    She''d rarely been that deep into the ship.  It felt . . . ominous.


    "What''s on deck 282?" she asked.


    "It is a storage deck," Kiseleva told her.


    "Storage?  Do we need to get something?"


    "You''ve been assigned a new task," Kiseleva told her.


    "What?  I thought you set my tasks?"


    Kiseleva did not answer that.  "Ham Sulp will be your instructor for this lesson."


    "The . . . short bald guy who acts like he wants to bite everyone''s head off?" Apollonia asked.


    Kiseleva''s jaw twitched at the description of the man, but then she nodded.  "Yes."


    "Oh," Apollonia said.  "Wonderful."


    The lift decelerated, making Apollonia''s stomach lurch, and the doors opened.


    The room beyond was darker than most she''d seen on the Craton.  Lights came on as they entered, but there were still creepy dark areas ten meters out in every direction.


    Most decks seemed to be broken up into many small rooms and corridors, occasionally piercing up through other decks when greater height was needed.


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    But this seemed to be mostly open.  It surely was not open all across the kilometer-or-so diameter of the Craton, but it was a massive open area.


    "Wow," she said.  "This is a lot of crap."


    Kiseleva began walking, weaving between the neat stacks of crates and containers.  Angel ran alongside Apollonia, keeping pace with them and sometimes dashing off to sniff a crate or corner.


    "The Craton stores a massive amount of supplies," Kiseleva said.  "These are bulk general goods."


    "Oh, so there''s like . . . shoes and spacesuits and cups in these?"


    "Spacesuits, perhaps," Kiseleva said.  "The other things are only made as-needed to suit each individual on an as-needed basis."


    "And the old stuff is recycled, right?"  Her orientation had mentioned that, she vaguely recalled.


    "Yes," Kiseleva replied.


    "Isn''t that kind of wasteful of energy?" Apollonia asked, giving voice to a question she''d always had.  "On an isolated station I get the need, but surely raw materials are easier to come by for a ship.  I mean, most stuff can just be gotten from any random asteroid or planet, right?"


    "No," Kiseleva said.  "The energy output of the Craton''s reactors is far beyond what is needed for the recyclers.  The majority of our energy production is for the zerodrive."


    Well damn.  On New Vitriol they''d always said that the costs of recycling things was prohibitive, and that was why goods were always in short supply.


    Maybe the reactors there just weren''t powerful enough, she thought.  But more likely . . . more likely it was so the merchants could make a profit bringing in goods.


    If it cost nothing to recycle stuff, there was no profit to be had for them.


    That gave her a heartburn-like surge of bitterness at how often she''d gone without stuff she''d needed for no reason whatsoever.


    "Through here," Kiseleva said, pointing through a door.  The wall seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, but in an odd way Apollonia was glad to think the room was not endless.  There was something mildly disturbing about a room with no end.


    "Are you coming?" she asked Kiseleva.


    "No," the woman replied.  "I will come back to check on you later."


    "All right . . ."


    Apollonia went through, and saw the short, bald Ham Sulp standing with his back to her.  He was studying a tablet, and to Apollonia''s surprise, Angel ran right up to him, jumping up his leg in joy.  Sulp reached down and petted her.  Then, without turning to face Apllonia or even looking up he pointed off to the side.


    "You see these totes?"


    There were only four of them on the floor, they were not that big, but each was full of small foil packets with colored labels and barcodes on them.


    "Uh, yeah, and hello," Apollonia said.  Angel was still adoringly staring up at Sulp, and she found herself shocked that the man seemed to reciprocate her affections, still petting her.


    "Salutations," Sulp replied in his grumbling voice.  "Your task is in these totes."


    ". . . Okay, what''s the deal?" she asked.


    Sulp finally put down his tablet and looked at her oddly, finally noticing that she was dressed up like a flower.  Like Kiseleva, he had no costume on.  "We picked up some of these from contracted suppliers on Gohhi."


    He shook his head in annoyance.  "We didn''t know that our original supplier''s parent company was bought out by a much less trustworthy company, and to cut costs they started some . . . creative practices.  Like lying about the expiration date on their volatile chemicals and using randomizing identification codes."  He paused, picking up Angel, carrying her in one arm while continuing to gesture with the other.  "I guess they thought we''d not realize they sold us crap, but all it''s meant is that they''ve gotten sorted into the general supply and we have to sort them back out."


    "So they''re just out of date?" Apollonia asked, puzzled.  "I ate food pouches that were out of date all the time on New Vitriol.  Those dates are just suggestions!"


    Sulp did not seem impressed. "When you''re doing high-end chemistry, you wanna know your chemicals are just what they say they are, and not decayed down into something else.  Most of the time it''s just an annoyance.  Sometimes it can cause bigger problems.  Last week, a drone exploded after trying to mix something that had gone unstable, and took two others with it."


    "Damn, okay.  Gohhi sucks, man," Apollonia replied, grimacing lopsidedly.


    "Yeah, well their system is chaotic and motivated by selfishness," Sulp grunted, then pointed again.  "Deep in the labels are codes that identify them as being from Gohhi.  I want you to use this hand-scanner to find them.  That enough of a story?"


    He offered the device, it was about the size of a writing stylus, and she nodded.  "That''s not so bad."


    Sulp arched an eyebrow.  "I mean all of them."


    "These four?" Apollonia asked.


    Sulp laughed.  "And all the ones behind them."


    Apollonia looked - and realized that what she''d taken as a bulkhead was actually a wall of totes, draped in tarps.


    "There''s four hundred and twenty-seven in total," Sulp continued.


    Apollonia quailed away from the pallets of totes.


    "This is drone work!" she protested.


    "Oh yeah?  Does that mean it''s beneath you?" Sulp asked her.


    "Well . . . yeah!"


    "Let me tell you something," Sulp replied.  "Back in the day, humans did all their own work.  You know that?  We started from dirt, and so we shouldn''t be afraid to get our hands dirty when we need to."


    "But why do you want me to do it?" she asked.


    "Because my drones are busy," Sulp replied with a shrug.  "You think they sit around?  No, they''re all doing their jobs.  I got volunteered an extra hand, so I''m putting it to use."


    Apollonia was practically stumbling over her words.  "Surely not every drone is busy!  This is ridiculous!"


    Sulp shrugged.  "You don''t have to do it.  But you signed up to help."


    "Maybe I''ll just leave!" Apollonia said.


    "Suit yourself.  I''ll just have to report it."  Sulp truly did not seem to care, but he stopped to gently put Angel down.  "You stay with her," he told her.  The dog seemed not to understand until he pointed to Apollonia, then she ran over.


    He walked away, leaving Apollonia to seethe, Angel at her feet and staring up at her expectantly.


    There was no way every drone was busy; this was some stupid-ass test.  Was Kiseleva just trying to annoy her into giving up?  She clearly did not think much of her!  The woman never even smiled as far as she had seen, she was probably incapable of it.


    She ran through a list of every curse she knew, even some she had heard from old spacers that still didn''t make sense to her, heaping them all on Kiseleva and Sulp.


    She''d been taunted with cool science and then got stuck on scanning packets?  It was bullshit.


    More curses and insults flew in her head until she began to run out of new ones and had to start repeating.


    A resigned sigh slipped out from her lips.


    She looked over at the totes.  Her anger still burned, but had subsided at least a little.


    Going over, she picked up one of the packets and glanced at the label.  "Pure Javelic Hydrate", it said.  It was squishy, like it contained a liquid or gel.


    Well, she already had the scanner in her hand.  She waved it over the package.


    There was a beep and the light on it turned green.  It was, apparently, from the Union and came up as keepable.


    Dragging over an empty tote, she threw it in, then took another one.  It was "Concentrated CDMP".  Also from the Union.  She threw that in as well.


    The next one seemed to contain small vials, and when she scanned them it marked them as past due.


    "Potentially volatile" her system said.


    She carefully placed that one in a new tote she decreed as the waste box.  Hopefully she could tell them apart.


    Angel walked over, sniffing the crates, then floomphed over onto her side dramatically.


    "I feel ya," Apollonia said gently.  This was going to be a long night.

 Episode 11 - Part 18

    The revelry had long-since spilled from the Equator ring to the halls around it.  Meeting rooms became impromptu party rooms; one empty storage hall became a dance hall, with drones carrying mirrored balls and lights weaving overhead.


    But there was no violence, no vandalism, no damage.


    Listening in on the Response teams responsible for security, Pirra was pleased to hear that so far the worst thing that had happened was a sprained wrist when someone had tripped.  They had already been treated and returned to the party.


    Just another story for Darkeve, along with the many that would never be told; triumphs chalked up to the goodness of spirit people brought to the day, and every failure chalked up to the ghosts of the Dark.


    The parade and its events had broken up a little while ago, and with that Iago had told her he had best get home.


    "I promised Cass we wouldn''t be out too late," he told her, smiling lopsidedly.  "So I need to go find Elliot."


    "Awww, that''s too bad.  I mean, I understand," she had told him.  "But this was fun."


    "Yeah, it was nice to spend time together again," Iago said.


    Iago had been a stranger for too long, she thought.  For a time tonight it almost felt like it had when she''d first come to the Craton and become his lieutenant.


    They had quickly become friends, and after a few missions, they had each showed the other their mettle.  He had been senior, with more experience, but they''d always been closely matched in every other way.


    "Does Elliot have class tomorrow?" she asked, strolling along with him still as he searched for his son.  The boy had gone off a little while ago to find Hannah to give her the treat he''d gotten.  Pirra still thought it was cute.


    "No, nothing like that.  But for Cass''s faith this isn''t a day for celebrating," Iago told her.  "So after this we''re going to go spend some quiet time with her."


    "Oh," Pirra said, a little surprised.  She shouldn''t be; differing groups having different ways of celebrating certain holidays was not weird for her people, either.


    "There he is," Iago said, spying Elliot through the crowds.  "Hey, have a good night!  Tell Alex I hope he feels better soon!"


    "I will!" she chirped after him, waving a farewell.


    Leaving the main Equator ring, Pirra weaved her way through one of the halls leading to the elevator back down into the Craton proper.


    The hallways had many people in them, many loitering and still talking or drinking.  One young couple were even necking wildly just outside the elevator.


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    She stopped behind them, making a trill that got people''s attention every time.


    Startled, the young couple looked back to her.


    "Get some privacy," she said, holding up her badge.


    They hurried away, and Pirra watched them a moment, amused, before heading into the elevator.


    Riding it down into the ship proper, she tried to feel the subtle turn as the elevator rotated to return her to the gravitational orientation of the rest of the ship.


    It was about three seconds after the elevator began moving, but even knowing that it was hard to feel.


    The elevator stopped, the doors opened, and she was startled to see Kessissiin standing there.


    He was just as startled, his crest rising a few inches in alarm, pupils narrowing.


    "Lt. Commander," he said quickly, snapping to attention.  "I did not expect to run into you."


    "It''s fine," she said, hoping that her human hat hid her own surprise at least a little.


    She felt oddly annoyed to have run into him here and now.  She knew that half of Squad One were working security for the event, even knew that he was one of them.  Most of the time, to bump into a member of her squad when she was out of uniform and they were on-duty was not an issue, but in this case it bothered her.  She didn''t know why.


    She stepped out, and he fell into step next to her.


    "Thank you for allowing me to work this event," Kessissiin said.  "This is the first time I have experienced this human holiday.  It''s been . . . enlightening."


    Pirra thought she could hear the disapproval in his voice.  Granted, this was a rather wild party, but Dessei traditional holidays were very restrained affairs in general.  Their tempers flared easily enough that they had to be.  And Kessissiin was from a very traditional culture and family, she knew.


    "Human holidays are great," she said.  "This is among their most widely-celebrated.  Even though it started as a spacer holiday, it has since spread even into their terrestrial populations."


    "Really," Kessissiin said, clearly uninterested in the history lesson.


    "Yes.  It''s hundreds of years old."


    "Only hundreds?" he asked.  The question could have been rude; it was hard to tell from his tone.  His body signals were too controlled at the moment to give more context.


    "Yes," she said.  "Not nearly as old as ours, but still quite old."


    "It does not compare to Emahha, certainly," Kessissiin said.


    "Well, few things do," Pirra replied.  "A nine-thousand year old holiday is hardly a fair comparison."


    "True," he admitted, seeming mollified by this admission of apparent holiday superiority.


    He glanced at her again.  "I admit, though, that I am surprised to see you celebrating it."


    "When among another culture it''s a good idea to take part in their ways.  There''s even an old human expression to that effect; ''When in Rome, do as the Romans do''."


    Kessissiin stopped now, looking at her costume.  "Still.  Why dress up as a human hero?  You could have picked any from our history.  You could easily have been Ymssa or Ninneh, for example."


    Pirra was almost flattered at the choices; both figures were warrior queens known for great beauty, and were widely popular.  But she did not want to accept or reject that compliment.


    "This isn''t really a human hero," she said instead, looking down at her costume.  "She was actually a criminal."


    "A criminal?" Kessissiin echoed, surprised again.  "Why would you dress as a criminal?"


    "Well they don''t carry a lot of mystique to us, but to humans some of them were considered very interesting and memorable.  Bonnie for example-"


    Kessissiin looked away, then back to her.  "I do not mean to be rude, Lt. Commander, but your fascination with humans seems to border on . . . unhealthy."


    Pirra was taken aback.  "What?"


    Kessissiin gestured to her outfit.  "You are celebrating their holidays, ignoring your own history, idolizing their criminals?"


    "That is my business," Pirra replied sharply.  "And not yours."


    "It is true that you may do what you wish," he said carefully.  "But our actions do not exist in a vacuum.  You are highly regarded in the Republic - a public figure for a variety of reasons.  Did you know that your every mission is reported on widely by our news agencies?"


    She did not actually know that.  "I''m not that extraordinary," she said carefully.


    He pressed closer.  "That is itself a terrible thing - you do not even know that our people love you.  They look to you as a role model.  And . . .  well, I do not judge you for your costume, but what will they think?  However humans view criminals, we view them as the villains they are.  How will our people feel to see their hero dressing up as something so terrible?"


    Pirra stepped back, suddenly feeling unsure.


    She wanted to dismiss his words, but he actually had a point.


    "On top of all of this, you married a human," Kessisiin continued.


    "There''s nothing wrong with that," she said, her confusion and concern suddenly bursting into anger.


    "It is not wrong, no.  But what kind of message does that send to our young?" he insisted.


    "You are out of line," she said.  "Return to your duty!"


    Kessissiin snapped to attention.  "Do not worry," he said.  "I know my duty."

 Episode 11 - Part 19

    "Tonight is a night of the Dark at its most encompassing," Father Sair said to those assembled.


    The room itself was dark; the only light was from the great bowl of holographic fire.  It was not the real thing; it added no real heat, and it did not burn anything.  The ash from a real blaze was a true part of this, the sacred turning of a mundane thing to black; returning it to the Dark.


    In the flickering light sat a half circle of people, watching him.  There were seven of them, and his cabin was a small one, meant for a single person.  The intimacy helped, however.


    "Despite the difficulties we face, and the oppression we must overcome, we have found each other," he continued.


    Cassandra gazed at him with a filial adoration.  Iago with a gratitude that he knew would never fade.  Their son was uninterested, only there because of his parents, but he knew one day that would change and he would be a true believer.


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    Three others watched with the conviction of the freshly converted.


    And last, Alexander Shaw, who was still uncertain.  But he was receptive.


    "Though others may feel false safety and amusement in their childish excitements today, we know the truth; that we are just tiny sparks in an infinite darkness.  We will fade with time.  But it is in knowing our place within the cosmos that we become one with it."


    He put his hands over the flames.  They shrunk, dying.  There was no pain as he had felt so many times before when doing this over a real flame.


    But he would make do.


    "They laugh at us for our faith.  They oppress us with their regulations and then make a pretense of fairness.  But their arrogance, their faithlessness will still their lips one day.  We need only keep our faith my brothers and sisters."


    He lifted his hands, so used to seeing them blistered, bleeding and cracked from the flames.  But they still shook, with the human flaw of memory; remembering burning flames of the past that had left his hands at One with the Dark.


    He lifted his eyes, met each of theirs.


    "We still have further to go.  Hold onto your minds as you sink deeper into the Dark.  We will sink, we will fade, but we are saved, for we know we are Small."

 Episode 11 - Part 20

    The shuttle vibrated slightly as it was pulled from the dash.


    It had been a short trip.  Y had expected it to be longer - a few hours, at least.


    But no, it had been quick - they were not even far from the station that had re-routed his dash.


    Interesting.


    He took in the data of all the shuttle''s system, building himself a picture of what lay around them.


    It was empty space, the vacuum about as immaterial as within any system.  The cosmic wind of the star, about five AU from him, was relatively weak.  It was only a mid-brightness red dwarf, and at this distance they were near the frost line.


    There was a single object; a ship.


    It was a round leisure craft, meant for short jaunts in space from a home port, not typically found floating in an empty system.


    Clearly, it was his destination.


    A tight-beam signal came in, giving him navigational data to dock.


    He put the ship on the course, waiting for anything else; a greeting or to hear from the man that Captain Brooks had been in contact with.  But nothing came in.


    He docked with the ship, and switched his consciousness from the shuttle itself to his ambulatory body.


    The airlock opened for him, and he stepped through.


    The majority of the ship''s volume, he could see, was taken up by a single large chamber.


    It was circular, both floor and ceiling curving slightly upward to create the effect of drawing attention to the center.


    He scanned all areas equally, but the effect would have been, to biological senses, very effective and striking.


    The space was used well, too.  There was no gravity or even the possibility of spin gravity on a ship so small, but every attempt was made to visually hide that; the deck was covered in a surface of very naturalistic soil, trees that had been grown in gravity had been transplanted into the substrate, with large rocks being in strategic places to create the illusion of a natural surface. Under crystal glass, so clear that a human eye might miss its presence, water flowed, creating a pleasant, trickling stream.


    In the center, an old stone table - and it was indeed an old table made of planetary stone, his sensors told him - was situated, along with two stone seats.  Quite ostentatious, when every gram mattered for a ship that wasn''t cratonic.


    At the table, a being was sitting.


    She had the form of a human, but she was not biological in any sense that he could see.  She possessed three arms on each side, and her skin was a gold alloy, textured like human skin - so convincing it almost looked like it was living.  Her eyes were a sapphire blue, and long pseudo-hair made of flexible silver wires hung down her back.  She wore a white gown; simply adorned but made from a rich fabric that refracted the light so that it almost seemed to glow.


    She was watching him, all six of her hands folded in her lap, waiting.


    He approached the stone table, and she spoke.


    "Greetings, Doctor.  I trust you had no difficulty finding your way here?"


    "Of course not, Madam Dawn, your directions were perfect," Y replied.


    "Madam?  Oh my, do I appear so old?  I thought I looked ageless in this form."


    "Consider it merely a token of great respect," Y said, judging her image and coming to a conclusion;


    She was not actually here.


    What he was seeing was one of the best projections he had ever seen.  It had been crafted to fool, at first glance, even the best sensors.  Perhaps even tailored specifically to the sensors possessed by his bodies.


    It bespoke great effort on her part to create a plausible facsimile, but also told him that she knew, in very great detail, the specifics of this body''s build.  The only clue that broke the facade was a tiny flicker, so fast that a human eye would not have perceived it.


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    He did not expect that she believed this would fool him for long.  But it was a testament of her knowledge and skill that she could fool him even for a moment.


    Quite interesting.


    The details of his mechanical bodies were not exactly top secret, but were also not publicly available, and under some level of security, for obvious reasons.


    "Please, have a seat," she told him, gesturing with one hand.


    He did so.  It was only a formality, but it seemed they would be playing that game.


    "Might I offer you a sensory cup?" she asked.


    "I would accept that offer," Y replied.


    Moving with grace, she took a small, cup-like object from the table, activating it with a touch of a finger, and presenting it to him.


    Y accepted it, pressing a finger into the cup.


    At the end was an interface, which he could interact with.


    There was nothing else but data; the sensory data of physical sensation, of smell, sound, everything that was needed to complete the tranquil scene around them.


    Birds sang in trees, the wind blew, which his surface sensors could feel as if it was real.


    It was, he thought, a pleasant scenario.


    "Why are we in this location?" he asked.  "Not that I am complaining, mind you - I just feel there must be a reason."


    Dawn smiled.  "It is, I am sorry to say, not a real place.  It is only a place I have seen in my imagination."


    She looked around.  "It was once a favorite past-time of mine to create such scenes.  While many work with memories, I always felt it was more enjoyable to try and create something that was believable but was not based on anything in particular."


    "That must require a great amount of research," Y noted.  "The plants and animals present are all native to Sakha.  It is difficult for me to find any flaws.  I believe that this could be a real location."


    "You are too kind," she replied.  "But you have not come all this way just to discuss my holographic creations."


    "No," he admitted.  "I have come to settle a debt, as you know.  Since you are not physically here, I trust you do not need medical attention.  So the question is; what else is it that you may require of me?"


    Dawn seemed unperturbed, and dipped her finger into her own sensory cup.


    "I wish only for your company, Doctor.  The sun is setting, and you will stay until the moon reaches its peak height in the sky."


    So she would not come out and say it.  Y pondered her last proposition, and noted that the sun was sinking at a speed faster than Earth normal for the region they supposedly were in.  So it would only be a few hours.


    "Very well," he said.  "I shall do that, and then the debt will be settled."


    "I was quite sorry to hear about Dr. Logus," Dawn said.  "Though I understand he is healing well."


    It was a sudden change, and Y tried to calculate angles that this approach could indicate.


    He discarded the idea that she was threatening Logus; there was no advantage in it, as far as he could see.  She already had him here.


    "Yes, he is attended to by excellent doctors," Y replied.


    "I imagine it was very difficult for you," Dawn said.


    The wind seemed to blow harder, enough to whip her clothes and pseudo-hair.


    "Yes," he admitted.  "But he will live.  The trauma will leave scars - while we can heal the physical ones, the mental ones will be longer-lasting.  Arn Logus is capable of dealing with them, however."


    "Given his reputation, I would expect no less.  I am sure you will do all you can to help him.  Your own talents are quite impressive."


    Y nodded, but said nothing.


    "May I ask - what caused you to desire to become a doctor?  It seems a curious choice."


    "I admire biological life," he told her.  "It is an interesting phenomenon.  I feel honored to be able to alleviate the suffering of people when I can.  And I am capable of doing a great amount of good in this way."


    "Doing good," she commented, her head tilting.  "I am surprised to hear you turn it to a simple moral stance."


    "I would chalk it up perhaps to a shortcoming of verbal language.  Truly, there are more efficient ways to communicate.  Would you prefer a pure data uplink?"


    "No, words will suffice," she replied, smiling slightly.  "In a way, its deficiencies are intriguing.  We must simply do our best with these tools."


    And, Y thought, she likely feared that a direct uplink would give him too much power.  Even if she was fully transhuman now, he was born a machine; it was his natural state.


    He had met fully digitalized humans before, and while they did in many ways transcend their biological limitations, their minds were still structured like their origins.  Without completely changing themselves, they would always hold those elements, and so not take full advantage of their new state of being.


    A motion to his side caught his attention; focusing his sensors, he saw a small animal, a mouse.  It had a seed pod in its mouth, it was trying to pull it along into the underbrush.


    It did not even notice him, and for a moment his attention was captivated; was it simply not programmed to interact with him?  Or was it so well programmed that it had not noticed his presence from his stillness?


    A part of him wanted to reach down and see if it reacted.  But he did not want to break the spell.


    "I see you find some of the details of my program most interesting," Dawn said.


    "Indeed," he replied.  "I am impressed.  And you say that this is all your own creation?"


    She smiled.  "I am under no obligation to answer your questions, Doctor.  I owe you no debt."


    "That is true," he admitted.


    The sun above was covered by a cloud and shadows fell over the land.  Every shadow was perfect, he noted, checking for mistakes in it, shortcuts that sensory world creators often used to save time or effort.  He found none.


    "I understand you spent much time with Romon Xatier before his death," Dawn said.


    "Yes," he replied.  He did not elaborate.


    "It seems he developed a powerful interest in you," she continued.


    "You could say that.  It was not a mutual interest," he replied.


    "Oh?  Yet you went to his property on Gohhi."


    Ah, so that was how she had known, he thought.  Her spies had seen him and they likely kept tabs on Xatier most of the time.


    "I did.  I had some unfinished business," Y continued.


    "You and Apollonia Nor were both present when he died, though."  It was not a question.


    "Yes," he said.


    She tilted her head again, smiling.  "You sometimes become short of words, Doctor."


    "I suppose that occurs to everyone at some times," he replied, forcing affability.

 Episode 11 - Part 21

    "Why are you friends with Apollonia Nor?" Dawn asked him.


    He found himself surprised by the question, though he supposed he ought not to be.  It was an obviously important topic.


    "She is an interesting person," he said.  It was the simplest way to describe his thoughts.


    "Even though her abilities frighten you?" she asked.


    Pure conjecture, he thought immediately.  So immediately that he recognized it as his own pride.


    Was it just a lucky guess on her part?


    Because she was right.


    His answer came damningly slow.  He found himself unable to formulate an easy response.


    "She does not frighten me, she is my friend," he said.


    "Ah, so it is," Dawn replied with an understanding nod, though he knew she had caught his mistake.


    "You must be very glad you''ve been able to keep her safe, with all of the danger she is said to have faced so far," Dawn said.


    "I do not much like this topic," he told her.  "Perhaps we might change it?"


    "Of course," she replied, inclining her head.  "I did not mean to cause you discomfort."


    "I do not hold it against you," he replied.


    "You are too kind, Doctor.  I know my questions are probing.  But as far as costs go, mere words are a cheap commodity."


    "It depends upon what words," he replied.


    She laughed pleasantly.  "Of course.  And in my line of work especially there are certain words that are quite valuable.  But this, this is mere conversation."


    "If you say so," he replied.


    "I do.  And do not worry; I will not ask you for any words you are not willing to part with.  Nor are there any wrong answers, not even a lie."


    "That is most generous of you," he asked.  "But what do you get out of this?  While I would assess myself as a great conversationalist, this does seem somewhat unfair to you."


    "That is my business," she replied.  "But tell me, what do you think of a murderer like Romon Xatier or his foolish imitators like Jan Holdur?"


    "They are damaged beings," Y replied.  "There are volumes that could be written about their psyches, but this is the simplest explanation."


    "Of course, though violence can have a purpose."


    "I suppose," he said.  "I understand that even you resort to it at times."


    He thought his comment would catch her off-guard, but she seemed completely unbothered.  She had no reaction at all to that, as if she had anticipated it.


    "Do any of your secondary minds ever suggest hurting one of your patients?" she asked him.  "Surely you could hide the evidence and get away with it."


    That triggered an impulse so powerful that Y¡¯s mind raced. He plunged into a deep search that might reveal a time and a place where he might have leaked this kind of an insight into how he operated. He was piling backtraces upon backtraces trying to collate huge amounts of memories. The alternative hypothesis was that she flat out guessed it, but Y dismissed it as astronomically improbable. Yet his searches came up fruitless. It was a novel sensation for Y - if he could, he would break a cold sweat. His outward routines tugged at his mind gently and he caught himself looking shocked and speechless. He suppressed the impulse and dropped the search, but it was too late to correct this slip up.


    "No," he finally said.  "And that is a horrible question to ask me, Madam."


    "I have not accused you of hurting anyone," she replied looking down and away pensively.  "Or that you even would.  But all the same - let us pursue a new thread of conversation.  What do you make of the Glorians?"


    "There is much there that I cannot share," he said, feeling quite uncertain and still off-guard.


    "I do not ask for secret information, and to be quite blunt, Doctor, my own information sources are likely more candid with me than the Sapient Union is with you - need to know and that sort of thing."


    "And you need to know?"


    "I do," she replied with a smile.  "And that is all the answer you will get on that."


    His mind began to calm down; she had just been provoking him for a reaction.  "Of course, I apologize," he replied.  "It is my nature to ask questions."


    He did not want to say it, but he was glad for the topic change.  "To answer yours - the Glorians are a rather interesting branch of humanity.  Terrible, right now, yes.  They are reactionary in the extreme, in the literal sense.  They believe themselves aggressors, but the reality is that they are slaves to their own system and it prompts them into unwise actions."


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    "Such as war," Dawn suggested.


    "Very possibly," he admitted.  "If it comes to that again, the Union will win, but many will die."


    "They must surely be aware of that," Dawn noted.


    "I would certainly think so, and yet - they act in ways that seem contrary to that understanding.  It is hard for me to put myself into their shoes, though I have tried to construct models of the behavior of their leadership."  He laughed.  "Not their supposedly-immortal Emperor, of course.  But of the actual ruling class; the ones who own all the land and the industry."


    "What do your models find?"


    "The results are at times disturbing.  Sometimes I believe that they are so trapped within their maddened world that they are unaware of the truth.  They believe their own propaganda.  At other times, they are quite aware of the truth, but simply do not care - they may not view themselves as Glorians and only pay lip service to the idea.  In this scenario, they would sacrifice every world of theirs to flames if they view it as profitable."


    "Ghastly," Dawn replied.


    "Indeed.  Though the views seem contradictory.  I do not know if either is true.  My models may be flawed.  It is a very complex thing and my dataset is incomplete."


    "I believe you are righter than you know," she replied.  "But have you ever considered that both views may be true?"


    "That is contradictory," he said.


    "Sometimes people are so."


    The sun had set; the mouse had gone off with its seed pod.  As the moon rose, they fell into silence for a time.


    He appreciated that the soil below was not actually full of live microbes.  As interesting as they could be, it was at times overwhelming to be surrounded by life.


    Though, he thought, she had modeled much of it for this fantasy.  There were earthworms winding through the soil, his scanners found, and other creatures in the soil hunting them.


    "Have you ever met any Aeena?" she asked, breaking the silence.


    "I have not," he admitted.  "It would be interesting.  We know very little of them."


    "They are interesting conversationalists in their own way," she told him.  "But they are also unpleasant.  Quite intentionally so - they do look down on us all."


    "They are xenophobes in the extreme," he agreed.  "Unfortunate, as they are a powerful and technologically advanced species.  After the Union''s last conflict with them, we actually learned much from their equipment we captured."


    "How intriguing.  How might they be more advanced than the Union?  It is so much bigger, with so many more species working in concert."


    "We do not know," he admitted.  "We do not even know how long they have been star-faring.  Though, their technology does not strictly outclass ours.  They simply have some novel approaches to some problems."


    "I meant no insult, of course.  But it is curious, isn''t it?"


    "It is," he admitted.  "Though I have not dwelled upon the question much.  It is quite outside of my wheel house, you might say."


    "Indeed.  Though I imagine you could be quite the spy if you so wished."


    "I would be held back by a fatal flaw," he said.  "My own superiority in certain ways.  Pride comes before the fall, I have heard."


    She smirked.  "An interesting way of admitting a weakness, Doctor."


    "I am the humblest being you will ever meet," he proclaimed.


    She laughed again, then glanced into the sky.  "The moon is rising quickly, and soon you will be leaving.  But there is time for one last question."


    "Yes?"


    "How do you feel about Shoggoths?"


    Y hesitated again.  It was another obvious question, yet again one he could not easily formulate an answer to.


    "I must admit my sample size is one," he said to start.  "Though from what I have heard they are often very similar in mannerisms and behavior."


    "If they have a culture, it does seem monolithic," she replied.


    "It is an interesting choice of words," he noted.


    "It is."


    He continued.  "To be very honest, madam, I do not like them.  I respect them, yes, but they hide many secrets.  They ask many questions, but answer few.  They make demands but give little."


    "My, what a terrible hostess I must be!" Dawn said, laughing.  "This description sounds almost too much like me."


    "I did not mean-"


    "Of course you did," Dawn said.  "Even if you do not admit it.  But you are speaking truthfully of the Shoggoths.  They hide many things, that they will protect at all costs."


    His interest was piqued.  "You need not answer, of course, but . . . without going into detail, do you know any of these secrets?"


    She took a moment before answering, frowning slightly.  "If I did," she admitted.  "I do not believe I would still be alive."


    Carefully, then, she put down her sensory cup and leaned back.  "The moon is nearly at its peak and you are nearly free, Doctor.  But before we go, if you have any other questions, feel free to ask them.  I may not answer - but you may ask, at least."


    "I do not have any," he told her.  "At least none that I expect you will answer.  But if I may speak freely, then I do have a few things to say."


    "Oh?  And what might those things be?"


    "Firstly, I profess a disappointment that you asked me nothing about Ian Brooks.  I do not know the past history that you two share, but I expected at least a cursory question about him."


    "I am sorry to have disappointed you," she replied.


    "I also have realized something; despite your attempts to make it seem you are broadcasting via FTL communications, you are actually quite local," Y said.


    This time Dawn looked surprised.  It was only a brief look, but told Y that she did still have that involuntary human trait of their emotions displaying before their conscious mind could correct it.


    "My, you are an astute one," Dawn replied.  "Perhaps I should be alarmed."


    "On the contrary, I mean to do nothing negative with this information.  If anything, I am somewhat flattered that you came what is presumably a long distance just to meet me," Y said.  "I imagine your ship is simply floating in a blacked-out state somewhere . . . well under a light-second away."


    "Bravo," Dawn replied.  "You cannot guess what direction - unless you are even more of a magician than you seem, doctor, but you are quite correct."


    "I cannot determine direction, no.  But thank you for confirming my thought - and for doing me this honor."


    "You are a worthy conversationalist," she told him.  "I thank you for your words."


    He set down his sensory cup, the details of the wind and scents and birds and other fine details disappearing.  He was once more on a spaceship, in the midst of nothing.


    "Thank you," he said, rising.


    He left, wondering if there would be some final surprise or attack; he did not expect it, but he could not rule it out.


    He had learned something of her, and she may not want that to be known.


    Stepping into his shuttle, he found no traces of bombs or sabotage.


    But there was a small box, just a few centimeters in dimensions.


    On it was a note, written by hand.


    "Please give this to Ian Brooks."


    Considering it a moment, he put the box into a storage compartment on his body, scanning it and finding no explosives, poisons or any other threatening properties.


    Then, without incident, Y settled his body down and started the shuttle''s engines, maneuvering away from the station and hence back to his home.

 Episode 11 - Part 22

    The walk home felt a lot longer than usual, Pirra thought.


    The door opened for her, and she threw the old human hat inside, just missing the chair, so it landed on the floor.


    Damn it.


    Well, it was a miss like a lot else tonight, she thought bitterly.


    Her toy gun had been lost hours ago; someone else had probably picked it up and wandered off.  But it had her ID chip in it, so they''d return it later.


    Alexander was likely in bed still, and she tried to be quiet as she stepped across the room, but managed to hit her leg on a chair.


    "Sky damn it!" she said softly.  "Fuck," she added a moment later.  It was a very useful human word.


    Making her way to the bedroom, she opened the door quietly, peering in.


    But the bed was empty.


    She checked the digital readout on the bathroom, but he wasn''t in there.  He wasn''t even in the apartment.


    Where was Alexander, she wondered, alarms ringing in her head. But if he had gone to get medical help, she would have been informed.


    For a moment she felt a great burden of guilt - what if she had missed the call because she had been enjoying the parade with Iago?


    But no, she knew that they wouldn''t have left some silent message.  It would have been a maximum personal alert, and there was no way to miss that.


    She double-checked her messages, but there was nothing about him.


    "Find Alexander," she told her system.


    It told her; level 147.  That was only a few levels below their apartment, in the general housing for civilians.  Why was he there?


    He was moving her way.  Perhaps he''d just gone for a walk?  She couldn''t fathom why he''d gone down there for one, though.  But she could meet him on his way back.


    Her steps had more urgency as she went out towards him.  Something was weird.  Or maybe, she reasoned, it just felt weird because she''d had a strange day.


    Going down a level, she intercepted Alex just as he was coming up a ramp from the deck below.


    "Pirra," he said, surprised.  "I didn''t think you''d be back this early."


    "I didn''t want to stay late if I was alone," she said truthfully.  She looked him over with a professional Response eye.  "You seem to be feeling better."


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    "I do feel better," he admitted.  He wasn''t in his costume, she noted, just normal civilian clothes.


    "Did a walk help?" she asked.


    "Well . . . mostly talking to Father Sair," Alexander said.  He seemed like he wanted to say something else, but stopped himself.


    "You went to visit the priest?" she asked, confused.


    "Yeah," he said, looking uncomfortable.  People were passing them; no one paying them an impolite amount of attention, but it was a somewhat awkward situation.


    "Let''s go home," she said.


    They walked back in silence.  She kept waiting for him to say more, but even as they went inside he headed straight to the bedroom without a word.


    She followed.


    "How did the priest help?" she asked.


    "We just talked about things," he said.


    "Like what?" she prompted.  "You don''t have to tell me, I just . . . I didn''t know you were feeling bothered so deeply."


    Had something upset him so much that he''d made himself sick?


    "I just find myself questioning things," he said.  "I''ve always been a man of science, and of course I still believe in it.  But things like the Leviathans, the thing that affected Iago, the . . . whatever it was on that pirate ship that left you and your entire team so hurt . . ."  He shook his head.  "That''s not science.  I can''t explain it."


    "It''s just science we don''t understand yet," Pirra said.  "You know that."


    "Is it?  Is it really?" he asked.  "Because they don''t seem to make sense.  People lose their minds trying to understand them with science and maybe that''s because science can''t figure it out.  Science is a philosophy based on observation, but observing this stuff makes people lose their minds, and even what doesn''t seems to have no rhyme or reason.  Maybe this isn''t something we have to think through so much as . . ."


    "Just believe some dogma about?" Pirra asked, trying not to sound too skeptical but unable to stop herself.  "I don''t think unchanging religious views are going to be the solution.  I''ve seen these things firsthand, you know that; I''ve done it again and again.  I''m terrified of them, but I know that one day we''ll figure them out."


    "That''s another thing!" Alexander said.  "I worry about you every time you go on a mission!  Even normal ones; what if there''s some craziness that comes out of nowhere and you get severely hurt?  We all know what happens to some people.  Hell, the entire Union has stopped all our colonization at the mere idea that maybe we woke up the thing at Terris with reckless expansionism.  And who¡¯s to say that''s not right?"


    He sat down on the bed, burying his face in his hands.  "I always thought I had the universe figured out.  Like, I knew the basis on which it worked.  But now I feel shaken."


    Pirra sat down next to him, putting a hand around him, leaning her head on his shoulder.


    Time after time he had to sit and wait while she went off into danger.  He was always there to support her when she returned.  Even when she did idiotic things, no matter how well intentioned.


    But this time she could be here for him.


    "The universe is bigger and more frightening than we ever thought," she said softly.  "And however we do it, Alex, we''re going to do it together."


    He leaned back against her, silent for several minutes.


    Pirra was content, just to be close to him.  The wounds of the day, even the deeper ones, seemed to fade, and she decided she would not bother him with those things.  They didn''t really matter.


    "Did you have a nice time at the party?" Alexander finally asked her, softly.


    "I did," she replied.  "Next year will be even better when we go as Bonnie and Clyde and steal the parade."


    He chuckled weakly.  "I just couldn''t make myself face the crowds in my state.  But like you say; next year."


    "Absolutely," she said, smiling.


    On some level, though, she felt antsy.  Worried about his state of mind, mostly.  But another thought popped into her mind, unbidden; he had lied to her.  He had said he''d been sick.  And while she could understand that on some level . . .


    He''d also hadn''t said he was sorry.

 Episode 11 - Part 23

    Oh Darkness without, Apollonia thought.  What fresh hell was this?


    In the last several hours she had sorted twenty-three totes.  She had filled up two with expired chemical packets, and the rest had proven to be fine.


    No matter how fast she tried to work, each tote seemed to take around ten minutes to sort.


    She''d knelt for awhile, but now her knees hurt.  She''d squatted but then her feet began to hurt.  She was now sitting on an empty tote that she''d turned upside-down, but the ridges were biting into her butt.


    And now, for the first time, she didn''t know what to do with a packet.


    "What do you mean ''status indeterminate''?" she asked the device.  It did not answer.


    The last tote had started having some packets that were a little different than the others; they were not silver, but a pale gold sort of color.  They''d all scanned fine, until this one.


    She scanned it again, but the same answer came up.


    "Fine!" she said, grabbing a new tote and throwing it in there.


    "You can just have your own bin."


    She grabbed another.  It was also indeterminate.


    After twenty more, all but two of which came up that way, she was starting to think something was wrong.


    Then she got a new one; ''status unindicated''.


    "What the hell does that mean?!" she raged.  She pulled up her system.  "What does this error mean?  Hell, what does status indeterminate mean?"


    It was quiet a moment, then began to give her the dictionary definition of the words.


    "Stop!" she yelled, standing up, throwing the chemical packet down.


    "Stupid fucking things," she raged.  "I could be at a party right now!  But Darkness, Gohhian shitholes have to be such greedy little fucks that they make you lot so they can suck one more credit from-"


    A strange clicking noise caught her attention.


    It wasn''t a mechanical sound, and the hackles on her neck raised as she looked for the chemical packet she had thrown.


    Oh shit, what if it was unstable and was about to explode?


    A vision of all of the chemical packets exploding came to her mind.  The Craton in flames, gutted and tens of thousands dead.  Because she''d lost her temper.


    Her frantic scanning found the packet, where it was sitting benignly, not swelling or glowing or anything it ought not do.


    She breathed a sigh of relief.  "Well, I guess I''m not an idiot today."


    She heard the click again, and turned, still feeling that stinging surge of adrenaline in her system.


    "Who''s there?" she called, hoping there wouldn''t be an answer.


    The lights turned off automatically in areas, and so she couldn''t see much beyond a few meters.


    But in the darkness she thought she could see things moving.


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    They didn''t move like drones; these were not flying or crawling.  They seemed to be rising and falling, slowly moving closer.  Strange, pointed lumps.


    "Oh shit," she said.  "Uh . . . lights!"


    Her tablet heard her command, and the lights came on, revealing the intruders.


    Now that she could see them she realized that her impression in the darkness had not been wrong; they were strange, pointed lumps.


    Almost like fuzzy caterpillars, they appeared to move on stubby legs, but with clear, flattened faces, like some ancient dog breed.  They had a little bit of a snout, and surprisingly large eyes, though she felt more freaked out by them than anything.


    "What the hell . . ." she said, taking a step back.


    There were seven of them, all staring at her.


    "This is the bekbe I was talking about!" one barked.  Its language was harsh and scratchy to her ears, but her system translated it clearly.


    "Bekbe?" she repeated, defensively.  "I don''t know what that is, but I''m not it."  It definitely sounded like an insult.


    "Bekbe!" one of the creatures barked out.  Another joined it, until all of them were barking the word at her.


    "Stop it!" she yelled back.  "What the hell are you, anyway?" she asked.  She''d never seen these strange things on the Craton before!


    Their bodies looked to be actually rather small, but they had . . . well, it wasn''t fur, but dense spikes that seemed to move somewhat, growing from their bodies.  It looked like hair under a microscope to her, but then there were crystalline spikes embedded in the hairs.  They almost looked like moving brambles, and she imagined that brushing up against one could easily lead to a lot of cuts and scratches.


    "What are you?" the closest one, who had first called her ''bekbe'' said, its voice a sneer.  "You''re the stranger here!"


    "I''m doing work!" she said, gesturing.


    "Throwing stuff!" another said.  "Like a stupid bekbe!  Pak!"


    "Stop using weird-ass words that can''t be translated," she said.  "I''ve never seen you guys on the ship before."


    Reaching down, she raised a bar on her tablet, increasing the detail of translation.  Usually it led to strange results, but right now they were using far too many words she did not know.


    "We keep to ourselves, person who gives sub-standard effort that results in problems!  I am displeased!"


    Well, she thought.  If that was the translation of ''bekbe'', then . . . well, she almost was one.  She turned the translation detail back down to normal.


    "What the hell are these guys?" she asked her tablet.


    "Boku-boku," her system informed her.  "Twenty-seven live aboard the Craton, all working within Resources division."


    So not that many.  Maybe she''d even seen them before and not noticed them.  They would barely be able to see over a table, anyway.


    Angel came up next to her, growling a little.


    Then she barked, and the Boku-boku all moved back slightly.  She barked again.


    "Pak!" one yelled.


    "Pak!" another one answered.


    Angel barked, and the Boku-boku yelled back that they were, in fact, quite displeased.


    "Pak!"


    Bark.


    "Stop it!" Apollonia shouted.  They ignored her, and the apparent argument between Boku-boku and the Ship Terrier carried on, unabated.


    Neither side would ever win, she realized, as Angel kept barking, her entire little body bouncing with each one.  The dog might have more sense than these little assholes.


    "What the hell is going on here, Phadom?" Ham Sulp yelled.


    For a moment, Apollonia thought it was another Boku word, but then realized it was a name.


    The whole group of Boku-boku stopped yelling out ''pak'', turning to look at Sulp.  Their large eyes were even wider now.


    "She was causing a problem!" the one called Phadom said.


    "I was not!  I was doing my work," Apollonia said.


    "Lie!" one said.  "She was throwing things like a stupid bekbe!  Pak!"


    "Pak!"  They all started yelling the word again, and then looked at her, making thin, hissy sounds that reminded her of blowing a raspberry.


    Then she realized they were actually spitting sand on her boots.


    "Oh, ew, gross, Mr. Sulp they''re spitting on me!"


    "Stop it!" Sulp roared.


    The pak-ing and spitting stopped immediately.


    "I want all of you to return to your duties," Sulp said very slowly and threateningly.  "I don''t want you bothering the volunteer again.  Even if she''s doing something you don''t like."


    The Boku-boku all started to turn and move away, and despite their strange shapes, she could see in their body language a kind of dejected quality.


    "Except you," Sulp said to Phadom.  "Make up with her."


    "That''s . . . not necessary," Apollonia said.


    "Yeah, it is, and you shut up too, you''re not blameless here," Sulp growled.


    Phadom stared at Sulp, his face scrunching up for a few moments before slowly trundling over to Apollonia.


    He reared back, and she saw that he really did have multiple little stumpy limbs, sprawling out from his main body.


    On the end of each short limb was a hand, like a human hand.  A baby human hand.


    "Pak!  I don''t like you because you''re a stupid bekbe," he said, offering one of his little hands.


    Apollonia looked at Sulp, who impatiently waved her forward.


    She took his hand.  It felt as weird as it looked.


    "And your hands are like a creepy little baby," she told him.


    Phadom jerked his hand back and turned.  "Pak!" he said one more time, then waddled away.


    "Good," Sulp said, walking over to her.  "If he wasn''t going to let this go he wouldn''t have taken your hand."


    "Even though I insulted him at the end?"


    "They insult each other, themselves, everyone," he said.  "Not all of them, but this culture at least.  Just how they are."


    "So . . . were they not really upset?"


    "Oh, no, they were upset," Sulp said.  "You''re a stranger in their workplace, and you were throwing things.  Then you yelled back at them.  That set them off.  They''re going to be pak for the rest of the damn day."


    "I didn''t mean to pak them off," Apollonia said.


    "Yeah, well, you did.  Nothing to do about it now."  He squatted and picked up the packet.  "But don''t ever throw things in Resources.  Our whole goddamn purpose is making sure stuff like this doesn''t get wasted!"


    "Yes sir," she said.  "I apologize."


    Sulp seemed a little surprised and pleased to get that response.  "Good.  Now these were the bad ones?"  He nudged a tote.


    "Yeah.  And these . . . I don''t know.  They were coming up as ''status indeterminate''.  Then that one came up as ''status unindicated''!  I didn''t know what to do with them."


    Sulp frowned, and took out a sensor wand.  He waved it over them.  It just flashed green.


    He looked at her.


    "I swear, it was being weird when I scanned it!" Apollonia said.


    "Let me see your wand," Sulp grunted.


    Apollonia felt a little disgruntled as she handed it over.  If he checked the log he''d see that she had been scanning them!


    "The battery is low," he said.  "That''s why.  Oh, this is the one with the bad battery.  Doesn''t hold a charge."  He looked back up to her.  "Not sure how it got back in circulation.  Oh well."


    He turned, starting to walk away.


    "Hey," Apollonia said.  "What do I do now?"


    "You haven''t gotten a lot done, but you''ve been here long enough," he said.  "You can leave now."

 Episode 11 - Part 24

    Tred stood outside of Cenz''s office doors for nearly ten full minutes before finally making himself ring for entrance.


    He knew that Cenz was probably aware of him.  There wasn''t much that escaped the head of the science division, he could split his attention better than any human.


    So Cenz was just letting him stew, he thought.  It seemed appropriate.


    Part of him wondered if he and Jophiel had been laughing at him!


    But no.  Just as soon as he had that thought he dismissed it shamefully.  Neither of them were like that, and it was only this . . . emotional outburst that was making him think that way.


    He knocked.  He just did it, scaring himself in the process, and wanting to run.


    The door opened.


    "Engineer Tred, please come in," Cenz said jovially, his screen smiling.  He waved him in.


    "I, uh, sorry for standing there for so long," Tred stammered.  He probably shouldn''t have admitted that.


    "I imagined you were taking time to put your thoughts in order," Cenz replied.  "And so long as no one else was trying to come in or go out, I saw no issue with it!  So; what did you wish to speak with me about?"


    Tred just gaped.  He had not put his thoughts together, even though he wished he could have.


    He didn''t know what to say or ask.  Every way he could think of to broach the topic to Cenz seemed . . .  Well, he didn''t want to do it that way.


    "I saw you at the parade," he said.  It was an incredibly inane statement, he knew.


    Yet Cenz seemed to find nothing wrong with it.


    "Ah, yes, I did go down to it for some time!  It was a pleasure spending time with Ambassador Jophiel, they are a very wonderful being, and with a fascinating perspective on many things."


    Tred''s heart beat faster as Cenz brought up the very topic.


    But he still didn''t know what to say, exactly.


    "You weren''t wearing a costume," he said dumbly.


    "That is true," Cenz replied, taking it seriously, his screen showing a deeply contemplative expression.  "You are not the first to note my lack of ''darkeve spirit''.  I usually tell people that this is a solemn period for my people, but the truth is somewhat sillier; getting all of the polyps that make up my collective consciousness to agree on a single costume is a very difficult task.  I suspect most people see through my fabrication, however."


    "Oh," Tred said.


    Cenz considered him for a long moment.  "But I do not think you came here to discuss my lack of costume, did you, Mr. Tred?"


    "No," he said.


    "Why, may I ask, did you come here?  I do not mean to be rude, but you seem . . . upset."  Cenz steepled the fingers on his hands.  Tred knew their specifications; he''d studied them for making Jophiel''s drone.  For a time he''d considered giving her advanced limbs for manipulation, but at that time he did not feel he could do them sufficiently well.


    "I guess I am," Tred said.


    He had been studying more, though.  Perhaps he could make her superior arms now.  Perhaps it''d even be okay to enlist Cenz''s help, or at least copy his arms verbatim, even if that seemed a very lazy method.


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    "I noticed that your heart rate went up when I mentioned the Ambassador.  Is this issue related to them?"


    "Yes," Tred replied robotically.


    He still wanted to give her that gift, even if she didn''t think of him as . . . special, he thought.  It was a pathetic thought, maybe.  But he just wanted to show that he was okay with her, no matter what.


    "I was surprised that Jophiel did not ask you to accompany them," Cenz said.  "But I considered it an honor to be asked to chaperone them."


    "It was good of you," Tred said.


    "But it upset you, it seems," Cenz replied.  His expression grew more concerned.  "Tred, have you developed feelings for the Ambassador?"


    Tred''s head felt light.  No one had said it before.  Everyone had surely noticed, but thought it was harmless.  Or cute.  Or maybe even funny that he would develop a crush on a non-corporeal being.


    "I . . ." he wanted to deny it, play it off.  But he could not.  It hurt too much to even deny.


    "Why has she been ignoring me?" he finally asked.  "I don''t know what I did wrong!"


    Tears burst forth from him and he suddenly found himself unable to form coherent words.


    Cenz appeared next to him.  The science officer''s bulk was often somewhat intimidating in the way of a huge object.  But somehow, he was comforting as he knelt there.


    "Oh, Tred," he said calmly.  "You are suffering, I am truly sorry.  Your emotions are causing you this pain - sometimes they run wild and we take leave of our senses."


    "I''m so sorry," Tred said, sobbing.  "I-I''m just an embarrassment . . ."


    "Nonsense," Cenz said.  "You are, to put it colloquially, only human.  Just as I am only polyps - we are flawed beings of biology, built by eons of evolution for very specific times and places that at times poorly fit into the broader complex universe we find ourselves in now."


    He put his hand on Tred''s shoulder.  It was not cold, as Tred had always expected of the water-filled suit.  It was . . . surprisingly warm.


    "For your own sake, take some deep breaths, Tred.  You do not need to feel ashamed, but you will feel better the sooner you can calm yourself.  Think with your rational mind.  I know you can do it; you have faced far worse than this."


    Which was true, Tred realized.  He had faced Leviathans at times, hadn''t he?  Gone onto ships of tortured, twisted reality and come back.


    He felt hurt and raw, but he was alive.


    Taking a shuddering breath, he managed to calm himself a little.


    "D-Did Jophiel say anything about me?" he asked, almost breaking down again.  He fought to keep his composure.


    "I cannot tell you what the Ambassador has told me in confidence," Cenz said.  "But I do not think you should worry."


    "So she didn''t?"


    Cenz was silent for a few moments.  "Did it truly bother you so much to see Jophiel with me?"


    "I . . .  I thought maybe she liked you more," Tred said, his lip trembling.


    "I do not profess to understand that well how Star Angels feel such things," Cenz said.  "The Ambassador seems to be very friendly with all people they meet.  They do not hesitate to take them into a personal intimacy that is deeper than most species.  Even I was slightly surprised - in a pleasant way - by this behavior."


    He was quiet for a minute.  "And though I cannot speak for the Ambassador, I can at least tell you that my people do not have romantic feelings for others in this way.  Ours is . . . well, we live in colonies.  Our inter-personal relationships are fundamentally different from singular beings."


    Tred nodded dumbly.  "S-should I try talking to her . . . ?"  He choked slightly, then coughed.  "But I''m so scared . . ."


    "I think," Cenz said gently, "That you need some time and distance to think on this, Tred.  However . . . if the Ambassador has truly changed their behavior towards you, given your status as their assistant, this does become something of an official matter.  I . . . could potentially ask if they are upset with you."


    "Y-you could?!" Tred asked, grabbing Cenz by the shoulders.


    Cenz''s face seemed very uneasy.


    "I could," he admitted.  "But I do not know what the result will be.  You must understand this."


    He did not want to tell Tred what he expected; that Jophiel had realized the depths of his feelings and was unsure how to navigate this issue themselves.  It was not a great position for any of them.


    He wondered how Dr. Y had failed to notice Tred''s behavior.


    Or, perhaps he had and had seen it as harmless.  Or not known what to say or do about it.


    After all, to develop a crush was very normal.  It was no violation of rules or decorum so long as it did not interfere with your normal duties.


    Though, noting Tred''s current state, it had certainly advanced to that point now.


    "I will speak to them," he reiterated.  "But whatever occurs, I cannot control."


    "Please!" Tred said.  "I just need to know if I did something to upset her!"


    Cenz stood up slowly.  "I will speak to you again Tred.  In the meantime, go visit Dr. Zyzus, he will give you a calming medication."


    Tred hesitated.  Cenz knew he hated taking calmers.  They were a far cry from the ancient human medicines for such conditions as his, there were no terrible side-effects or unpredictable outcomes.  But he hated them anyway.


    "Okay," Tred said.

 Episode 11 - Part 25

    There was a very slight shudder as his ship was pulled back into realspace by the Craton.  No effort was needed on her part, though it would ping the bridge.


    Y knew they were expecting the shuttle to return from the Captain''s milk run, and so they would hopefully be none the wiser that he had left.


    In twenty minutes time, the shuttle would dock, and he would be home.


    He mused for a moment that it was convenient that even a passive zerodrive could pull an object from zerospace if it approached, and rob it of all momentum.  The effect was poorly understood, but made attempts at zerospace missiles all-but useless as it would only end up with them stopped harmlessly a few thousand kilometers out.


    But he was only distracting himself with those thoughts.


    The entire trip he had been ruminating on the meeting, and the more he did, the more unsettled he felt.


    There was too much in the conversation that was sensitive; he could not share it with Brooks.  The Captain would respect that, but he would ask all the same, and Y would have to refuse him.  That would only serve to pique the human''s curiosity.


    It was unfortunate, because he would like to get the man''s thoughts on Vermillion Dawn.


    She was known to his people, but he was the first Ehni to actually meet and speak with her.  His observations were, therefore, valuable.


    Prior to this they had known only that she was transhuman and that she controlled a very large and very effective information-gathering network.  It was also a well-armed network, and she had tentative connections to dozens of mercenary groups and rebel bands who seemed to share only one connecting trait; their hostility to Gohhi''s ruling class and the Glorian Empire.


    Which was curious in itself, as certain details of her voice and mannerisms suggested she might be from one of those places.  His guess was that she was from a wealthy family of Gohhi, and had used her family resources to start her spy network, though he did not have evidence for that.


    Now, though, he knew more.


    Various details in her projection led him to believe that it was an accurate depiction of her body.  The craftsmanship in it was exquisite - but it was not atomically flawless.


    Which meant it was not made by machine alone; it had been made by artisans of extremely high skill, implying that she possessed the amounts of wealth needed to hire them as well as the desire for such ostentation.


    By contrast, Y''s bodies were not even that spectacular by the quality his people could produce.  They were stronger and faster than biological beings, but that was not a difficult bar to pass.  However, they only viewed their bodies as tools; they were not physical beings, but data.


    The focus spent on her body implied that Dawn was not fully digital yet.  Her body was a temple, wherein she was housed, rather than a tool.


    That spoke much about her.


    But even more important had been her behavior; she''d been close, to get better bandwidth to study him.  Surely with multiple sensors that saw in many views.  His face had no movement and nothing to betray, but likely she had studied in detail the inner workings of his body as it had processed each question and created an answer.


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    She had valued this meeting enough to put herself at great risk.  There were many very powerful beings who wanted her dead.  At the lower end were business rivals, and at the upper some of the wealthiest beings ever to exist, with the resources of worlds at their disposal.


    But most of all he had learned that she possessed an arrogance of her own.


    He scanned the package that she had left aboard the craft again.  It was an information pod, but it was shielded so that an external scan could not penetrate it.  If he tried x-rays or something too invasive, it might very well blank itself.


    There were no explosives; the residue would be obvious even with near-perfect tooling.  There seemed no danger in it.


    But she had hand-written the note.  He studied the strokes, seeing that her physical hand still moved in the manner of a biological being.  From this, he mused, he might be able to learn who she once was.


    Which, he suspected, she knew.


    She just did not care.


    He had learned that she was brimming with a confidence that, he was loathed to admit, was earned.


    Their lack of knowledge of her person had always been disturbing to his people.  Working with a faceless being was atypical; they liked to know as much as possible about their partners.


    But her usefulness had always outweighed their caution.  Her information network was second to none.


    He had justified this mission to himself through the value of actually meeting her.  He had expected that he would come in and dance around her in the same way that he danced around all biological beings.


    But could he even share anything he had learned with his own people?


    The secrets of their sapience was something they guarded - jealously.  There were various views as to why even within their people, but it was something that all Ehni were sworn to uphold.  To break that covenant was something that would get an Ehni the bleakest punishment they could possibly face; permanent banishment.


    The thought gave even him a pang of existential dread; and he was on the fringe of his people in his independence from the collective society.  While many other Ehni shared his curiosity about organic life, few would actually go live among them.


    In his view it was a danger, though not in the sense that biological beings could threaten them with destruction.


    No, it was dangerous, because of the risk of the biologicals learning just how they worked.  How their sapience functioned.


    If that happened, Ehni minds could become something that biologicals could predict.  Their own AIs would increase in power.  It might even create a renaissance of research into the field.


    And that was a problem.


    Because an AI did not die unless it was destroyed.


    If humans or other species gave rise to AI that considered itself alive, that had its own goals and agendas and desires . . .


    That could be a threat to them.  One that would exist as long as they did.


    If he shared all he had learned with his people, they would want to see all of his data.  They would see his own behavior, and they would be horrified.


    Because he had performed terribly.


    He had come into the situation, expecting that there was little real danger.  Yes, he thought, perhaps Dawn would attempt to capture his body and study his code.


    On some level he had found the thought amusing.  To try and capture an Ehni for that purpose was not a new tactic, and they had myriad ways of defending against it; they could terminate, delete, and override their code so effectively that it was a reflex.


    After all, when he transferred between bodies, what was he doing?  The data in each device was wiped away, completely turned to an illogical mess that gave no clue to their minds.  He killed himself multiple times every single day.


    But Dawn had not proven to be such a primitive as to think she could physically control him.


    She had come at him with a knife made of words, and used his own arrogance against him.


    Only on reflection had he realized just how much she had played him.


    Her question about his inner minds had been played perfectly to misdirect him; so focused had he been on the horror of the question that he had not accurately modeled a response.


    And in his response, he had implicitly admitted to the fact that his intelligence did contain discrete lesser intelligences.


    Something that she should not even have known existed within them.


    He had never been inspected in such a way.  Xatier had wanted to think he could, but he had been so self-limited that it had been a joke.


    He would have to do better next time.


    He could not let the arguments that had arisen against his joining the Union be proven right.

 Episode 11 - Part 26

    Apollonia felt exhausted.  Her feet hurt as she left Resources, hating the dim lighting down here.  Several times she thought she heard Boku-boku lingering just out of sight, but when she checked her tablet it said there were none nearby.


    "Is anyone out there, Angel?" she asked the little dog.  But the dog in the bee costume only got excited when she heard her name, wagging her tail so hard her entire rear end shook.


    "Don''t think I didn''t notice you napping when I was working," she said to the dog.  "So now''s your chance to work and tell me if I''m alone!"


    Angel just started panting in excitement, dancing around her legs.


    Well, she decided, it didn''t seem like anyone in the Sapient Union to stalk her, even those weird little shits, so it was probably just her tired nerves.


    Her poor mood put her in a klepto mindset; back on New Vitriol one stole whenever they could get away with it.  Sure, if you got caught you might get a kicking or a night in lock-up, but you always needed stuff, and even if you didn''t need the thing you took, you could probably barter it for something you did.


    But what was the point on the Craton?  No one lacked for anything.  The whole goddamn Union was like that, as far as she knew, except maybe on the fringe colonies.


    Finally finding her way back to the lift, she was surprised to see Kiseleva as the doors opened.


    The woman gave her a curt nod, and Apollonia felt even slouchier as she moved to stand next to her in the small lift.


    "How was your training?" the woman asked.


    "Boring," Apollonia replied.  She noticed that Angel had sat down to her side, watching her.


    She had missed the parade, done a piss-poor job, pissed off her co-workers, and it had all been stuff better suited to drones.


    "Was this just about seeing how I dealt with boring shit?" she asked.


    Kiseleva glanced over to her.  "That was a factor.  Being an officer in the Voidfleet means doing the tasks that need to be done.  Even if they are dull."


    "It sure was dull," Apollonia said.


    Kiseleva turned more to look at her.  "Thousands of years ago, humans sailed the oceans of Earth in wooden vessels.  They often relied upon the wind - you know what wind is, yes?"


    "Of course I do," Apollonia said back, a little snappishly.


    "Sometimes the wind would die down," Kiseleva continued.  "And the boat would be dead in the water - unable to move.  Do you know what they did then?"


    "What?" Apollonia asked.


    "They waited," Kiseleva said.  "They called them the doldrums."


    "Are you saying we are in the doldrums now?  Because really it did not seem dull at the giant and awesome party you pulled me out of."


    "You do not want to hear it now," Kiseleva said.  "But it was for your own good."


    Apollonia glared at her.  For the first time since Gohhi she thought about peering into a mind; she could do it, she imagined.  If she focused enough.


    Look into Kiseleva''s mind; find something that would freak her out, get her to fuck off and stop saying this stupid, banal stuff.


    But even as she had the thought she mentally recoiled.


    No.  The last time she had done that she''d touched a serial killer''s mind.


    It had left marks in her.


    Sometimes, she woke up in the night, and thought she might have been dreaming his dreams.


    Angel barked, once, sharply, snapping her out of her depths.


    "Are you all right?" Kiseleva asked, her expression serious.


    The mood in the elevator had turned.  Not just from her mood, Apollonia realized.  Her . . . presence, or whatever it was, seemed to palpably ooze from the walls.


    Looking up, the lights in the elevator themselves seemed dimmer.  The whole space smaller, more claustrophobic.  Kiseleva would be getting the brunt of it.


    "Yeah, I''m all right," Apollonia said, suddenly feeling much more sober than before.  She looked down at Angel, but the dog seemed cowed, nervous.


    Whining about missing the parade suddenly seemed a very small thing.


    The doors to the lift opened.


    "Let''s go," she said to Kiseleva.  She still felt glum, but at least she wasn''t being petulant anymore.


    Kiseleva seemed thrown off; Apollonia could see her struggling on some level to comprehend the change that had just occurred.  But to her credit she was continuing on.


    "Follow me," the woman said.  "I know you are tired, but there is something else I wish to show you.  I think you will appreciate it."


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    They were back on the ship proper - in the science area again.  It was bright enough in here that the dinginess she seemed to have created receded slightly.


    Apollonia hoped that Kiseleva meant she might actually get to see the astronavigation stuff, and she followed the woman with a cautious optimism.


    But maybe she had ruined that chance with her change.


    Kiseleva was watching her.  It was subtle; it was only the woman''s eyes glancing slightly her way.  But she was, and her expression while doing it was . . . odd.  It wasn''t fear, or hate, but it was something.


    "Something bothering you, Sergeant?" Apollonia asked.


    Her words came out more challengingly than she intended, and Kiseleva looked at her with a frown.  "I must admit something; I did not know you were as young as you are, and it bothers me that I did not see it.  It seems obvious, looking at you now, that you are young."


    "People often get surprised," Apollonia said.  "Even when I was kid people often seemed to think I wasn''t.  Maybe I just have a serious face or they couldn''t look past how I made them feel."


    "Perhaps I expected too much from you in prior training," Kiseleva admitted.  "And have judged you too harshly.  You have gone through a lot for someone your age."


    Apollonia knew she had, but it felt weird to just agree.  She said nothing to that, but nodded a little, partly in thanks but mostly just for acknowledgement.


    Kiseleva was just looking forward again as they moved, but there still seemed something antsy about her.


    "Was there something else on your mind?" Apollonia prompted.


    Kiseleva glanced away.  "It is nothing," she said.


    "Does that nothing have to do with that mission?" Apollonia pressed.


    Kiseleva stopped and turned to face her fully.


    "Yes," she admitted.  "It does."


    "What, then?"


    Kiseleva shook her head.  "It is not appropriate for me to say these things."


    "Well that just makes it sound bad," Apollonia said.  "Up until two minutes ago you were ready to chew me out for being whiny.  But now . . ."  She tilted her head.  "I freaked you out, didn''t I?"


    "You did," Kiseleva told her bluntly.  "Two minutes ago you were a petulant child.  Then, in a moment, you changed.  It''s like you''re . . ." she snorted and looked away.


    Apollonia leaned slightly into her field of view, raising her eyebrows in question.


    "It''s like you''re suddenly the ranking officer and I feel out of line," Kiseleva said, sounding confused.


    "Well, why don''t you just go ahead and say what you were thinking?  I don''t mind," Apollonia replied, feeling oddly calm now.  Kiseleva normally intimidated her, but at the moment, after her more sobering realization, fear of the woman seemed almost silly.  Not that Kiseleva wasn''t obviously a dangerous woman in the right circumstances, but this was not that kind of situation.


    "I was thinking," Kiseleva said slowly.  "That I wish I could have resisted that effect that froze us all - the way you did."


    "You don''t know the baggage that comes with it," Apollonia replied, a dry laugh coming out.  "It''s a sacrifice," she added.


    Kiseleva was silent a moment longer, then nodded.  She turned to face forward again.


    "I understand," she replied.


    "It''s the only thing I''m good for, really," Apollonia said.  It wasn''t even self-pity talking.  She just knew it was true; she had no skills or talents, she was not good at . . . anything.  Not even at an amateur level.


    Kiseleva shrugged.  "I wonder, Apollonia Nor, if you truly want to do anything, or if you just wish to justify your existence?"


    "What?" Apollonia asked, eyes widening as she was caught off-guard.


    "It seems to me that you balk at many tasks.  But you wish to be more than just passively useful.  You undoubtedly are; your simple existence is justification enough, from a value standpoint, if that is how you wish to reckon your worth.  It is not how the Union views life, but I cannot stop you from making your own judgments."


    Apollonia looked down and away from the woman, her mind roiling again.


    "Your childhood, as abrupt and terrible as it was, did not prepare you for being a member of society," Kiseleva continued.  "And so it leaves you now feeling like a parasite."


    "I''m not a parasite!" Apollonia snapped.


    "No," Kiseleva replied.  "You are not.  But I fear it is how you view yourself."


    She turned, beckoning Apollonia.  "Come."


    They walked again, coming to a set of white double doors with a massive insignia and words on it that read;


    Astronavigation


    Charting the Stars


    Apollonia felt a slight tingle down her spine as Kiseleva opened the doors.


    Angel ran in, wildly sniffing, with Apollonia and Kiseleva following at a more sedate pace.


    The room was huge; extending up through five normal decks, with a huge hologram in the middle.  In the center was the Craton, and out beyond it, at distances she knew to be - literally - astronomical, were stars.


    One point of light was in front of her, and she reached up, waving her hand through it.  Her fingers tingled as she touched it and she laughed.


    "I never thought I''d touch a star," she said.


    Kiseleva walked to the middle.


    "This is our current sector of space, twenty-five light years out in all directions.  In that area are over a thousand major objects - stars and brown dwarfs.  Anything that holds its own noticeable system."


    Apollonia stared at how many there were.  "These are their actual relative positions?"


    "Yes," Kiseleva said.  She took a long, slow breath.  "It is a tiny piece of our galaxy, yet overwhelming in its scale already."


    "It sure is," Apollonia said.  "So . . . how do we reckon our position?"


    "There are many ways," Kiseleva said.  "And I will show you, if you wish."


    The door to the room opened again, and Apollonia stepped back guiltily, as if touching a holographic star was akin to stealing.


    In the doorway, looking as surprised as Apollonia felt, was Urle''s eldest daughter, Hannah.


    She was a cute kid, Apollonia thought.  She had large eyes and a very serious expression, belied slightly by her costume of a lion with a huge mane.  If she''d had makeup or a mask, she''d removed them, and her eyes widened as she saw them.


    "Oh, sorry," she said.  "I didn''t know I was interrupting."


    "It is fine," Kiseleva said.  "You may come in."


    "Uh, yeah.  Welcome," Apollonia said.


    Hannah watched her curiously, only peeling her eyes off to look to Kiseleva as she came up to her.


    "I just wanted to do some practice," she said.  Angel ran up to her, and she petted the dog fondly.  "Oh, hi Angel!"


    "That is fine," Kiseleva said.  She looked up at the stars, considering a moment, then looked back to Hannah.  "Show me how to find Earth."


    Hannah looked up from the dog, her face scrunched up as she studied the stars.  "It''s pretty hard without a clue . . ."


    "There are three F-type stars on this map," Kiseleva told her.  "One of them lies between us and Earth."


    With a nod, Hannah stepped forward into the middle of the room, looking up.  She reached a hand up, moving it in a certain way, and the whole collection of stars moved.


    "Whoa," Apollonia said, stepping back out of the way.  "I didn''t even know we could do that."


    "I''m just trying to find the F-type stars," Hannah said.  "Once I find those I can start trying to figure out which way Earth is!"


    Kiseleva came over to stand next to Apollonia.


    "How can she find the F-type stars?" Apollonia asked quietly.


    "None are labeled, but she can analyze their spectra.  But before she can do that she must sort the visible stars by brightness.  F-type stars are a larger type of star, though not the largest."


    "You use the shift of the light to determine their distance, right?" Apollonia said, a long-ago memory of learning awakening in her head.


    "Yes," Kiseleva said, seeming pleased.  "Through accounting for that shift, you can determine their distance and therefore their absolute luminosity.  Once you have that you can determine their mass."


    "Handy that she has an app for that," Apollonia noted.


    "She wrote her own," Kiseleva said, smiling a sly smile.


    "Wow," Apollonia said, her eyes widening.


    "There!  That''s Phi Ceti!" Hannah said excitedly, pointing.  "I recognize it because it''s a variable F7 star!  Sol is 50 light years that way!"


    Kiseleva applauded lightly, and Apollonia joined her.


    "That was really impressive!" Apollonia said, coming up to the kid and clapping her on the shoulder.


    Hannah beamed at her.  "Thanks!  I''ve been working hard on it!  Candy?"  She held up a bag that said SQIPZ on it.


    Apollonia had never had those.


    "Sure," she said, taking one.  It just looked like a colorful little sphere.  When she popped it into her mouth it created a burst of flavor.  "Wow, that''s good."


    "Yeah!  Elliot gave them to me," Hannah said.  "They''re really good!"


    "It is getting rather late," Kiseleva said.  "Perhaps you should go home now, Hannah."


    "Yeah," she said reluctantly, glancing up at Apollonia.  "It was nice seeing you again, Ms. Nor."


    "You don''t have to be so formal," Apollonia said quickly.


    "Take Angel with you," Kiseleva told the girl.  She glanced at Apollonia.  "If you are okay with that.  The dog should return to her home bed."


    "Yeah, that''s fine," Apollonia said, reaching down to pet the little dog one more time.  "I''ll see you around, little bee.  You did good, thanks for sticking up for me with Phadom."


    "Phadom in Resources?" Hannah asked as she squatted down to pick up Angel, who seemed perfectly happy to be carried.  "I go to class with his son.  He''s also Phadom, but he''s Phadom Po.  It''s like ''junior'' in Bokese."


    "Oh," Apollonia said, surprised.  What did a little Boku-boku look like?  It might be adorable.


    "Well, bye Teach, bye Apple!"


    Still holding Angel, she ran off, and Apollonia sighed.  Her nickname was catching on, and part of her missed Angel already.


    "Why did she call you teacher?" she asked Kiseleva.


    "I am the teacher of the Astronav Pioneers Club," Kiseleva said.


    "Wow, isn''t that a lot on your plate with being in Response, too?"


    "It is my hobby," Kiseleva told her.  "I do it simply because I enjoy it - though I am a rated Astronavigator."


    "Wow," Apollonia said.  "I have no idea what that means."  She sighed, her amusement falling away.


    Kiseleva studied her in silence for a moment.  "You find this exciting, and for that I am glad.  But you must look beyond simple childish excitement.  Even at her age, Hannah is considering becoming an astronavigator.  Is that what you want, Apollonia?  Because if it is, it can be so."


    "I don''t know," Apollonia said.  "You''re right, it''s cool.  And maybe I could do that, I don''t know.  But, damn, that kid can do that and I barely know anything.  I feel humbled.  I''ve just never thought about what I wanted to be, for real.  Everything I''ve ever thought of was a fantasy.  An escape, not a future."


    Kiseleva reached up and put her hand on Apollonia''s shoulder, the warmth of it comforting.


    "I think," she said, "that you need to let go of your fear of being viewed as a dead weight.  Once you do that, you can figure out what it is that you truly love, and what you want to do with your life."

 Episode 11 - Part 27

    "Welcome back, Doctor," Brooks said into the newly-oxygenated hangar.


    Ten minutes ago, Y''s shuttle had docked, sending out their pre-arranged signals that indicated all was well.


    Brooks still hadn''t let his guard down.  Just because he''d given those signals did not mean all was truly well; he couldn''t rule out that Y''s memories had been extracted and read.


    On that theory he did not let Y reconnect to the ship''s computers until he''d had a dozen scanner drones go onto the ship and scan it and Y''s body thoroughly, checking for signs of tampering or alteration.


    They came back clean, and now Y walked out, reconnecting to the ship as he came.


    "It is pleasant to be back," Y replied.  He had not objected to the checks - they had not pried into his internals, only looking for superficial signs of invasion.  Which, Brooks reasoned, would have to be enough.


    Y paused.  "My shell-copies successfully avoided Nor.  I am pleased; thank you for that, Captain."


    "Of course.  Now, how did it go?" Brooks replied.


    "It was a pleasant visit," Y replied simply, and began to walk past him.


    "That''s all?  What happened?" Brooks asked, annoyed.


    "Forgive me, Captain, I do not mean to be rude," Y said.  "But I am late for something.  Surely you recall Apollonia Nor''s request for us to watch her film?"


    Brooks felt guilty as he realized he had entirely forgotten about that.  He had intended to go . . .


    Though of course Apollonia had been quite busy with other tasks.


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    He felt guilt over that, too.  But putting her into such an incredibly boring task did have its benefits, and from Sulp and Kiseleva''s reports, it seemed it had paid off.  Still, he''d make sure to make it up to her later.


    "That was delayed," Brooks told Y.


    "Very well.  I shall go now, then," Y said.


    "Wait," Brooks said.


    Y stopped.  "Yes?"


    "You just visited?" he asked.


    "That is correct.  We had a most pleasant conversation in a very pleasant location.  That is all I can share, however.  And before you ask more, Captain, I refuse to elaborate further."


    Brooks was surprised more than anything at Y''s bluntness.


    But he realized he did not have any ground to stand on here, demanding more.  He had pulled Y into this, and the doctor had selflessly helped.  The debt was entirely unofficial and unsanctioned.  He could not press rank, nor demand anything.


    He took a deep breath, letting himself feel his emotions of anger and disappointment, and then banishing them away with reason.


    "Very well," he said.  "I understand.  Thank you, Doctor, for your assistance in this matter."


    "Think nothing of it," Y said.  "You do not owe me anything, Captain."  The machine began to turn back, then stopped.  "Oh, there is one matter.  I was instructed to give you this."


    He held out a small box.  Y had broken the seal, but inside was simply a small pill-like capsule.


    "I have scanned it thoroughly, and it seems harmless, but I could not open it without breaking it.  The note with it says that you would know how to open it."


    Brooks studied it for a long time.  "Thank you," he said, a hint of emotion seeping into his voice despite his efforts.


    Y nodded and walked off, already moving his consciousness to another body, and sending this one on auto-pilot back to its recharging station.


    Brooks went into an executive meeting room, turning it to private mode.


    Bringing his cupped hand with the capsule close to his face, he breathed on it lightly.


    The capsule responded.  It was coded not just to warmth and DNA, but his carbon dioxide - a crucial detail most attempts at tampering would overlook.  Who would, after all, hold something that could potentially be a bomb right up to their face?


    The seams on the capsule glowed in recognition, then a small image appeared on its surface.


    Despite the tiny size, it was a perfectly detailed image of Vermillion Dawn.


    "Hello, Captain," she said.  She had her slight, mysterious smile.


    "I knew you would remember how to open this," she said.  "There are things I must tell you, and this was the only way to bring them to you safely.  We do not have much time . . ."

 Episode 11 - Part 28

    The lift ride back towards her apartment felt longer than normal, as it stopped to pick up weary partiers in their crazy outfits.  Most were still happy, but in a tired sort of way that made them keep to themselves.


    Apollonia rode past her stop, going back down.  She was strangely enjoying the ride.  Or at least, it was better than being back at her quiet apartment.


    She keenly missed Angel''s presence.  The little dog had become a comforting companion just by her mere presence.


    What a gift for them all the dog was, she thought.


    The doors opened, and the lift emptied, but only one man entered.


    Oh, shit, she realized.  It was Dav Gannin.


    The man was another expatriate of New Vitriol.  He had, she had heard, approached Dr. Arn Logus, wanting to escape the place.


    His son had died on New Vitriol; a common fate for the young there, given the high levels of radiation, bad air, and lack of necessities.  She''d only avoided it by having moved there after she was nearly grown.


    But she had limited ability to feel sympathy for him.  The man hated her.


    While part of it might be due to the fact that she was alive when her son wasn''t, the open reason was the same one that everyone else there had hated her; she was, in their eyes, a witch.


    It was just another term for Seer or CR or whatever else someone wanted to say.  He''d yelled it into her face in Logus''s office when she''d gone by some time back.


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    The man was avoiding her eyes, looking down and away.  She awaited the explosion.


    Unlike people in the SU, she knew very well that people from Vitriol were capable of startling violence.


    She wished she wasn''t in this stupid flower costume anymore.  Not that she would have blended more in normal clothes, but the brightness and happiness of it seemed almost mocking.


    Gannin was just in normal clothes himself.  He still wore his faded brown jacket from Vitriol over his newer Union outfit.


    Finally, his eyes rose, met hers.  She braced herself.


    "I''m sorry," he said softly.


    She froze, waiting for the follow-up burst of violence.  But nothing came.


    The silence lingered, and the man looked down and away again, almost chastened.


    "What?" she asked.  Even to her ears her voice sounded dumbfounded.


    "I''m sorry," the man repeated.  There was no annoyance in it, nothing but sadness.


    He looked up.  "I called you a witch.  I always hated you.  Back there . . . on Hellrock."


    She blinked.  "I call it Hellrock."


    "Yeah," he said.  "I know.  Most of us started calling it that after we heard.  Name fits."


    "Thanks," she said suddenly.  When he looked startled, she added; "For the apology.  I . . . uh . . .  I appreciate it."


    "You never did anything to deserve it," Dav said, shrugging.  "I just hated you because you were an outcast.  Touched by the Dark, we all said."


    "Yeah," she replied.  She knew the stories.


    "And maybe you''re different, but you never did anything bad.  At least nothing nearly as bad as the rest of us."


    She didn''t know about that; her mind went back to a dozen, a hundred times she''d exacted her own petty revenge or stole or otherwise hurt someone else.  But she did not say it.


    "Dr. Logus was always trying to tell me that," Dav continued.  "I blamed you a lot.  For my son''s death.  Along with the Governor and security and, fuck - everyone.  You were just the last remaining reminder of all that, so you became the target."


    Apollonia felt a trickle of sweat go down the back of her neck.  Had he planned to attack her?


    "Logus stopped me," Gannin said.  "He kept telling me that you were just another victim.  I didn''t listen to him then.  But, you know, when the ship went and fought the Hev . . ."


    "Logus almost died," she said.  "Because he went to help me."


    "You were out there being a Responder," Dav said quickly.  "I was just cowering in a bunker.  Not even trying.  But I saw Logus go out - he wasn''t even afraid.  At least he didn''t show it.  He went out and risked his life.  Nearly lost it . . . just to help you."


    Apollonia still felt guilt over that.  If anything, this seemed more reason for the man to hate her, but . . .


    "And after that I realized he meant everything he said," Dav continued.  "He did want to help me.  He . . . risked everything to help people.  And not just me, but even you.  Someone I thought ought to have been spaced years ago."


    He shook his head.  "I''m ashamed of who I was.  So I''m sorry.  It''s not your fault - none of it was.  I was a terrible person.  I can''t change that, but I can try to be a better one.  I . . . It''s the only point in going on, at this point, isn''t it?"


    Apollonia felt a burning behind her eyes.  She nodded to the man emphatically.  "Yeah," she said.  "I know what you mean."

 Episode 11 - Part 29

    Finally, Apollonia thought, as she rounded the curve of the hall towards her cabin.


    She was going to sleep for days.  She absolutely was going to call in sick tomorrow, and not Kiseleva or even the Captain would be able to overrule her!


    But there was a group of people waiting for her.


    She recognized Y first, towering above the others.  This body was similarly costumed, wearing large fake eyebrows and moustache, round glasses, and a cigar attached where a mouth would be.


    Brooks was there, as well as Jaya.  Finally, seeming perfectly cheerful despite being the only non-ranking officer, was Ann from Watchito''s.  Apollonia had forgotten that she''d even invited the woman the other day.


    "Well look who finally decided to show up," Y said, his voice startlingly different from its norm.


    "Huh?" she asked.


    "We are pleased you could make it," Y said, now in his normal voice.


    Brooks smiled.  "Urle sends his regards - he has to be on duty now and his girls have to be in bed.  Otherwise he''d have liked to see Shark Hole 7."


    Apollonia felt her exhaustion fading.  "You guys are all still here to watch the movie?"


    "Of course," Jaya said.  "We said we would come, didn''t we?"


    "Yeah, but it was going to start hours ago . . ."


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "We were happy to wait until later.  Are you still wishing to host it?  I''d understand if you were tired," Brooks said.


    "No, no, this is great!  But, um . . ."  She had been going to get extra chairs and snacks on her way back from the parade, but now . . .  "I don''t have anything to eat.  Or even enough places to sit."


    "You need not worry about that," Jaya said.


    Apollonia felt her tablet ding, and looked.


    "Delivery of five chairs and snacks for ten.  Regards, Zeela Cann.


    P.S. - I hear Shark Hole 7 is one of the best in the series.  Sorry I can''t make it!"


    "Damn," Apollonia said, fighting down the sting of tears for the second time in the last few minutes.  "I can''t believe this came together."


    "Well, let''s go watch," Brooks said.


    Apollonia opened the door, grinning at the sight of the theater-style seats arrayed around the main screen wall.  There were packages of a dozen kinds of chips and cookies, even chilled containers of ice cream.


    "She went all out . . ."


    Jaya brushed past her, sitting in the largest, plushest chair.  "I call dibs," she said.


    "I think that''s the Captain''s chair," Ann said.


    "Or the hostess," Y noted.


    "It is too late, for I have called dibs," Jaya stated simply.


    "I''ll cede the chair," Apollonia said.


    Brooks instead went over to the snacks and picked out a taiyaki, breaking it in half.  "A whole one is too rich, care to share it?" he said, offering the other half.  Apollonia took it.


    "Ooh, spumoni!" Ann said, taking a container of ice cream.


    Y took the end chair, folding up like a giant insect to fit.  "Let''s get this show on the road," he said, using his funny accent again.  "Before I get any older."


    Apollonia took her own seat, between Jaya and Y.  She tapped on her tablet, and the room dimmed.  The wall began to glow, as the film started.


    "In the beginning . . ." it began, the sound booming.  "There were only black holes . . ."


    "That''s not right," Jaya said.


    "Debatable," Y replied.  "Perhaps they mean the singularity that caused the Big Bang as a sort of black hole?"


    "Yes, but there was only one," Jaya said.


    "Shh!" Apollonia said.  "It''s nonsense.  Just let it . . . flow over you."


    "And in the black holes . . . there were sharks."


    "Fine," Jaya said.


    "These sharks were the scourge of the known universe," the movie continued.


    "But if they were all there was, what were they terrorizing?" Brooks asked.


    "Shh!  Watch!"  Apollonia said.


    The introduction continued, and she leaned over to Y.  "How old are you, anyway?" she whispered.


    "Me?" Y said.  "That''s a good question."  He leaned in closer, his voice turning nearly imperceptible.  "In human years I am twenty years old."


    "What, really?" Apollonia said loudly in shock.


    "Absolutely" Y replied.


    Jaya and Brooks were staring at her.  "Shh!" they said in unison.


    "That''s my line," she muttered.


    Ann was still watching the screen.


    "I''m just enjoying the movie," she said with a sigh.


    "Oh, what a nice time this is," Y said happily.

 Episode 11 - Part 30

    Cenz''s system told him that Jophiel''s drone had returned to its charging port, and they were currently isolated in Reactor Seven.


    As he walked there, he noted that the Ambassador was not currently streaming data from any of the external cameras.


    That was odd; the Star Angel usually had several streams going, even if they were in their resting state, which seemed to occur about every seventy-two hours.


    It seemed as if the being had deliberately shut itself off from the outside.


    He checked back in the data logs; this had occurred other times, but rarely.  After their time on Gohhi, however, there had been a large uptick in such events.


    He entered the reactor area.  A handful of personnel were working, the third watch.  They were a mix of fusion techs and xenobiologists, the latter of whom had the task of making sure that Jophiel''s environment remained suitable to her.


    "Officer on deck," the call came as he entered.


    "As you were," he said, saluting back casually.  The officers nodded, smiling to him, and returned to their duties.


    No one was at the communication station.


    Cenz sat down awkwardly; his water-filled suit pushed the weight limits of many chairs he encountered, though this one was solid enough that he felt secure.  He had, at times, crushed chairs, something that he found somewhat embarrassing though no one seemed to hold it against him.


    He jacked into the communication port.


    "My apologies, Ambassador," he said by way of greeting.  "It is Science Commander Cenz.  I was hoping we may speak."


    There was a pause; longer than normal.  However, there did seem to be a reaction within the fusion chamber.  They were aware of him.


    The external feeds activated, viewing the entire room before viewing his position.


    Perhaps it was scanning for someone in particular?


    "Hello, Cenz," the Ambassador finally said.  "It is nice to see you again!  I greatly enjoyed our time viewing the ''parade'' as you called it."


    "I can, of course, say the same, Ambassador," Cenz said truthfully.


    "You know, we do a similar thing in my home space," Jophiel continued.  "There is a cultural event where we line up and move in a great chain.  Through it we share feelings and knowledge.  I had the pleasure of being involved in one of the greatest chains of all, where we nearly circled our entire star!"


    "That is most impressive," Cenz said.  "I can only imagine how many of your people would be needed for such an endeavor."


    "We did have to stretch the definition of a chain slightly; the gaps between individuals was rather high.  But we considered it a great success all the same."


    "I am most pleased to hear that," Cenz replied.


    "Now, to what do I owe the pleasure of this meeting?" Jophiel continued.


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    "I wish to ask you a few questions," Cenz said.  "I hope they are not intrusive."


    "I do not mind answering if I can," they replied.  "But you must know I am not a ''scientist'', and sometimes such questions do not translate well, so I hope it is nothing too technical."


    "I quite understand - sometimes such translations are quite difficult for my people as well," Cenz said.  "I have told you, I believe, that my kind are not individuals, but a collection of beings who share an intelligence."


    "You did!  It''s very interesting," Jophiel replied.  "It is only somewhat different from other beings, isn''t it?  They, too, are made up of collections of cells that communicate."


    "In a sense," Cenz replied.  "But each of the Polyps that make up ''me'' is its own being that has its own will.  Individually, we are not that intelligent, admittedly.  We could hold a very simple conversation at most, and it would take all of our focus.  A great deal of effort is required for us to reconcile the different needs and desires of each Polyp.  You could say we have become very skilled diplomats as a result."


    "No wonder you are so well liked," Jophiel replied.  "I read the public ''blogs'' people put out, you know.  I don''t always understand them, but I do hear you mentioned sometimes, and always in the most positive terms."


    "Really?" Cenz said, genuinely surprised.


    "Oh, yes.  Even . . ."  Jophiel trailed off.


    "Yes?" Cenz prompted.  "Forgive my ego, but I am curious what you were going to say."


    "Ah, just . . .  Even Tred speaks well of you.  You are always kind to him," Jophiel said.  The voice sounded strange, though.  It was hard to know if it was an artifact of translation, or a genuine emotion coming through.


    "Ambassador, how do you feel?" Cenz asked.


    Jophiel was quiet a moment.  "My condition is fine."


    It seemed an evasion.  "Emotionally?"


    They were quiet longer.  "Why do you ask that, Cenz?"


    "I ask, Ambassador, because I worry that something is bothering you.  I am not a medical professional, nor a psychologist, but I do hope I could be of some service if you are experiencing distress."


    Jophiel was quiet.


    He waited; a minute passed.  Then another.


    "Ambassador?" he prompted.


    "Do your people go to war?" Jophiel asked suddenly.


    "We have never declared a war against another," Cenz replied truthfully.  "Once, we were attacked by an enemy who viewed us as inferior and sought to destroy us.  But with the help of the Union, we defended our people.  Though . . . several of our colonies were destroyed and many of my people were killed."


    Jophiel was slow in replying.  "I see."


    Then, after another pause, they spoke again.  "I can imagine that was a great loss.  So many entire collectives of Polyps gone.  That is not normally how it goes for your people, is it?"


    "No, it is not," Cenz replied.  "You are quite right that it was traumatic.  The individual Polyps that make up any of my people can move freely between one collective and another.  They vary in age and experience.  I tell you that this is how we have avoided having war for as long as our recorded history; no matter what material conditions might compel conflict, we are all collectives.  When there are differences, we can exchange polyps with other collectives - and through them understand differences.  In this way . . . no collective can bring themselves to starve another, to exterminate them for having differences.  Because they are us and we are them."


    "What happened if one collective did not wish to share?"


    "They would die off," Cenz said.  "We have no set lifespans, because we can continually replenish.  If you do not exchange, you will weaken over time.  Your thinking will become simple and predictable as the Polyps grow too strongly in synchrony.  They will all grow old and die together, and then the whole will perish."


    "I see," Jophiel said.  She was quiet again for a moment.  "It must be difficult, then, with beings who are not collectives."


    "There have been challenges," Cenz agreed.  "We are fortunate that the Bicet are such a wise people.  They are individuals but understand that all sapients are collectives in their own way.  Your people form chains, too."


    "Yes," Jophiel said softly.


    Silence fell between them for a time.


    Until it was broken by Jophiel''s outburst.  "How can they kill each other, Cenz?"


    The communicator screeched; it was almost overwhelmed by the power of Jophiel''s words, and around him the techs and scientists looked up, alerted.


    "Something''s changed," one tech called.  "The flux is going unstable . . ."


    "Bring down the dampeners, get it in line," the chief officer called.  "We can''t let it-"


    "Let it be," Cenz ordered out loud to them.  "Until it reaches dangerous levels, allow it to play out."


    They all looked at him.  The chief officer looked unhappy, but nodded.

 Episode 11 - Part 31

    Cenz returned his focus to Jophiel.


    "Your people have never hurt each other, have they?"


    "We are not capable of it.  There are legends, stories, of some that learned ways . . . but if there was ever any truth to it, it was lost a long time ago!  For as far back as any of us can truly remember, we have never hurt each other.  But . . .  But humans, Dessei, these other species - they revel in it!"


    "It was the play, wasn''t it?" Cenz asked.


    "I knew they''d had conflicts," Jophiel said.  "But I had never seen it.  I did not know how . . . horrible it was.  They cut into each other, their life bleeds away slowly.  They suffer - they cause each other to suffer!  How could they do that?"


    "This was a great problem for my people to tackle as well," Cenz told her.  "When we first met them, we learned of their wars.  They could not even count their conflicts.  They could only even estimate how many died, for so many were lost that it proved impossible to know the exact numbers.  They had invented ways of killing each other of incredible complexity and nuance - developed defenses and then new methods to counter those.  It was a terrible form of evolution that all of them, even the Bicet, had done for ages."


    He let out a sad light that translated into a sigh.  "We could not understand that.  How even the wise Bicet could do such things - even if much of it was in the past.  But then we were attacked by an enemy.  We could not exchange Polyps with the Aeena, nor would they speak to us.  We had very little in the way of defenses."


    "Did you learn to fight and kill?" Jophiel asked, voice laced with horror.


    "Yes," Cenz said.  "We did not like it.  But those other species of the Union came to help us.  They fought for us at first.  They sacrificed themselves - they died - to protect my people.  They did so without pausing to ask what reward they would get.  It was, to them, simply something they must do."


    "To kill?"


    "To protect," Cenz corrected.  "They did not want to kill.  I saw them attempt to show mercy, to not kill their foes.  It happens in all of their wars, to some degree.  At times, their sense of love, of mercy, overcomes their other instincts.


    "But most importantly of all, Jophiel, I understood finally; my people all did.  They did not fight out of cruelty or malice.  They fought in their history because they had reason to.  Sometimes it was wrong.  But many times it was because they wished to survive against a danger that could not be talked to or dissuaded.  For them, their history is not one of total cooperation and friendship.  They struggled in many ways.  They are what their reality created them to be - but they have also striven to rise above it.  They have imagined a universe where they can be peaceful, and see it as a goal worth seeking.  They sacrificed themselves to save my people because they could do no less."


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    Jophiel fell quiet again.


    Cenz wondered if his words had any effect upon her.  Perhaps the ideas were simply too strange for her to understand.  Star Angels were, so far as he could tell, nearly innocent beings.


    "Do you think that Tred could ever kill?" Jophiel asked.  Her words were soft.  Barely a fluctuation in the spectrum.


    Cenz took time to consider it.


    "Yes," he said.  "I do not think he would ever want to.  I think it would cost him a great deal - he would always remember it and feel great guilt.  But he would, if he felt he had to."


    "What could compel him to do such a thing?" Jophiel asked.  "I thought I knew him . . . but if he could do that, I do not know him at all."


    Cenz spoke again.  "He would do it only to protect another.  Or himself - but I suspect that he would hesitate to do it for himself.  No - I think most certainly that he would only do it for others."


    Jophiel was quiet again.


    He waited.  A minute passed, then two.  Five.


    Time had less meaning to her people, he knew.


    "Thank you for coming to speak to me," Jophiel said finally.


    "I hope I have rendered some assistance," Cenz said.


    "Yes," Jophiel replied.  She disconnected the call, and Cenz was alone.


    He sat there for a time.  The plasma fields had all fallen back into normal levels.  The techs were still trying to puzzle out what had happened.  Later, Cenz would have to tell them that it was simply a difficult moment for the Ambassador and to not fret it too much.


    He saw, too, that Jophiel had turned off all outside camera views again, returning to her isolation.


    He sat a little longer.  He, too, looked inward, focusing on himself.  When he did that, he could suss out each individual in his collective; take a sample of the thoughts and mood of each of his members.


    There was one among him, an elder by his species'' terms, that had been on a colony world that had been on the front of the war.


    It had been in a different collective then, a being who had stood out of the water, away from all shelter, watching as the fleets of the Aeena and the Sapient Union had clashed.


    They''d been in orbit, and he''d seen the Union ships dive deeper into the atmosphere than had been wise.  The Aeena pushed them further, hoping to put them into destabilizing orbits, knowing the Union ships would put themselves between their enemies and the Corals below who they defended.


    Some ships had gone down as a result of sinking too far into the atmosphere.  A blaze of glory, the veterans called it with a stinging pride later.


    They''d not attempted much maneuver; they wanted to take the shots so that they''d not reach the surface of the world and the civilians below.


    It had been a brutal battle.  The casualties had been in the millions.


    But almost entirely among the crew of those ships.  They had not broken, no matter how much damage they had taken.


    They''d had the numerical superiority over the Aeena.  They''d had the tactical superiority, when a second force had come in, catching the Aeena between two combat fleets.


    They''d let the Aeena escape, rather than risk sending more debris down to the world.


    A terrible defeat, some had called it.  To the surviving crews of those ships, they had called it their finest hour.


    That last part of himself that had seen it, he communicated with directly.


    "Did I tell it well enough?" he asked.


    It mattered, he knew.  And he did not know if he had done well enough in explaining it to Jophiel.  If he had failed to impart just how important it all was - he felt that that would be a failure, an unworthy act on his part to such a memory.


    The old Polyp could only communicate slowly and simply when viewed in isolation like this.


    "Yes," it told him.

 Episode 11 - Part 32

    "That was the strangest movie I have ever seen," Jaya declared.


    She turned to Apollonia, who was grinning like a madwoman - though with a hint of nervousness.  "I had a marvelous time," Jaya added honestly.


    "It was quite silly," Y said.  "Despite the abysmal acting, however, I did find the special effects of the space sharks consuming people to be quite effective.  I can imagine to many they were traumatizing!"


    "Oh, yeah, I heard that when Shark Hole 2 came out, people vomited in the theater!" Apollonia said.


    "I heard that, too!" Ann replied.  She suddenly looked sheepish.  "Two of my friends left the theater when the baby sharks ate that one man from the inside out."


    "It was kinda long, like ten full minutes of munching," Apollonia agreed.  "But I guess they had to really get his death throes in there."


    Y seemed fascinated.  "I may have to look up this movie."


    "I think I''ll pass on that one," Jaya said.


    Brooks seemed more thoughtful.  "I was surprised by the amount of sex.  After the third time a couple was eaten during the throes of passion you would think they''d realize it was attracting the space sharks."


    "It''s a horror movie, people always have to be banging," Apollonia said.


    "Ah, yes," Brooks said.  "Of course.  But I''m glad Urle wasn''t here with his kids . . ."


    "I was going to have it skip those parts if they were!" Apollonia said quickly.


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    Jaya laughed, then yawned.  "I am quite tired - and I imagine you are exhausted, Apollonia."


    The yawn proved contagious, and Apollonia followed suit.  "Well now that you remind me . . . yeah."


    Y studied her.  "You are quite past your bed time," he said.  "Ah, how unfortunate you did not get to see all twenty of my costumes.  I had many interesting examples."


    "Show me tomorrow?" Apollonia asked.


    "You will have to possess yourself with patience and see the ones you missed next year," Y said with mock-gravity.


    Ann waved.  "I''m heading out, thank you for the movie!"


    "You''re welcome!" Apollonia called back.


    Jaya moved to follow her.  "We''ll run later than normal tomorrow," she said to Apollonia.  "Because otherwise we''d have to be up in . . . Dark, just three hours."


    "Oh thank the stars," Apollonia muttered.


    Brooks smiled.  "You can have the day off tomorrow, Apple.  And thanks for the film, I enjoyed it."


    As they left, Y turned to follow, but Apollonia caught his arm.


    "One last thing," she said to him.  "I had a thought.  Or, well, Kiseleva said something to me that gave me a thought."


    "Yes?" Y prompted patiently.


    "She was telling me that I should try to figure out what I want to do, you know?  Not just what I think I should do.  And I was thinking . . . I want to help people.  So what if I went into medical?  I mean, I''m not doctor material or anything, of course, but surely there''s something I could do!"


    She bit her lip.  "Right?"


    Y paused, seeming surprised by her suggestion.  "I believe that this is a very interesting idea, Nor.  There is much merit in it - and let us speak on it again tomorrow."


    Apollonia smiled.  "So . . . you''re okay with the idea?"


    "Of course I am," Y said.  "Now, good night - and happy Darkeve, my friend."


    Y patted her shoulder, giving it a squeeze, then stepped out of the door, leaving Apollonia alone.


    But, despite the exhaustion and the emotional rollercoaster of the day, she felt better than she had in a long time.

 Episode 11 - Epilogue

    The watch after Darkeve was, in Urle''s opinion, the most boring.


    The partying lasted a good twenty-four to thirty hours, but even the most energetic of the revellers began to grow weary after that.


    Then was the time of thousands of drones cleaning up and lonely watches.


    And nine months after that, he thought in slight amusement, a baby boom.  Happened every year.


    They had only twelve on the command deck right now, the bare minimum.


    The ship was as safe as could be; they were alone, deep in space well within Union territory.  There were no known objects flying through this sector.  Even the light of their presence was years away from any outposts or ships.


    So it was almost just a formality to have anyone on duty, he thought.  The ship''s AIs were more than capable of running unsupervised for a time.


    Not that he was complaining.  This was his chosen path, and people were out here because they wanted to be.  It would be easy to send out probes, to sit back in one''s home system, and never see things with your own eyes or experience them.


    But the same could be said of almost everything.  You could let all your art and stories be written by AI, let them make your food, let them control everything.


    But what would be the point of living, then?


    People would just let themselves be fully replaced.


    He sighed, shifting in his seat.  The quiet hours left a lot of time for contemplation.


    The command center doors opened, startling him.  His system normally informed him of anyone who was approaching this area.


    Kell came in, and he relaxed somewhat.  His diplomatic credentials were one possible reason for the lack of warning.


    But Urle found that he could not relax as much as he''d like; Kell''s presence seemed more over-bearing than usual, and his real skin crawled as the being approached, as if a sphere of his disturbing presence was washing over him.


    Maybe that was how it worked, he thought.  Aside from the purely-subjective feel of it, it didn''t show up on scanners, not even their most sensitive krahteon arrays.


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    "Good evening, Ambassador," he said.  "What has you up at this hour?"


    "The ship is quieter," Kell replied.  He did not look at Urle, but stepped up next to the command chair, looking out at the screens that showed blank space around them.


    "Yeah, the party has finally died down.  Now it''s peaceful."


    Urle followed Kell''s gaze, looking out at space.  "Not much around us to see right now."


    "I do like seeing the stars in novel arrangements," Kell said.


    "I guess you must be pretty used to Earth''s skies," Urle noted.  "You know there''s not as much variation in color as you might expect in the skies of Earth-like worlds.  Most of the times the sky is still just blue.  It can be other colors with a lot of dust or a less Earth-like atmosphere, but that''s not as common as you might think . . ."


    "Mm," Kell replied.


    Urle let the topic drop.


    "Did you read the information packet we sent you about the holiday?" he asked.


    "Yes," Kell said.


    "What do you make of it?"


    "The idea of warding off evil spirits is not a new concept for your kind," Kell replied.  "But at best it is merely an attempt to bring order and some measure of control to a universe you have no sway over."


    Urle could see the truth in that.  "It''s more just a cultural tradition at this point.  We do enjoy a reason to celebrate."


    "Perhaps the wrong way to go," Kell said.  "You are not wrong to fear the dark."


    Urle was finding that he really resented Kell''s attitude sometimes.  He took a moment to let the annoyance fade before he spoke again.


    "Do your people have any holidays?  Special times?  Shoggoths, that is."  Not . . . whatever this sort of meat puppet was.  He could still recall, with some horror, how Kell had told him that this body was merely a marionette, controlled by the true being that he had never actually met.  That was, Kell had said, something beyond them.


    "No," Kell replied, taking a long time in answering.


    Of course not, Urle thought.


    "I''m surprised I didn''t see you out there today," he said.


    Kell looked down at him.  "You did."


    Urle paused.  Kell could look different at will; it was something he''d seen with his own eyes, even if he could not really explain it.  The sheer amount of energy needed to rearrange the cells in a body alone would be huge.


    Yet Kell''s body always looked, if anything, cold in infrared.


    "Did you wear a costume?"


    Kell''s look turned to that look he so often wore; a sort of steady disappointment mixed with superiority.


    "This is my costume," Kell replied.


    Urle felt himself shudder slightly, and he looked away.


    Kell kept standing there for a long time, merely staring out into the darkness.


    Urle felt like he, personally, did not have to look far to find it.