Table of Contents

- One

- Two

- Three

- Four

- Five

- Six

- Seven

- Eight

- Nine

- Ten

- Eleven

- Twelve

- Thirteen

- Fourteen

- Fifteen

- Sixteen

- Seventeen

- Eighteen

- Nineteen

- Twenty

- Twenty-One

- Twenty-Two

- Twenty-Three

- Twenty-Four

- Twenty-Five

- Twenty-Six

- Twenty-Seven

- Twenty-Eight

- Twenty-Nine

- Thirty

- Thirty-One

- Thirty-Two

- Thirty-Three

- Thirty-Four

- Thirty-Five

- Thirty-Six

- Thirty-Seven

- Thirty-Eight

- Thirty-Nine

TIMESTAR

Robert George Mertens

Copyright 2004 by Robert George Mertens

One

Copyright 2004 by Robert George Mertens

It was a night flight and Frank Jameson looked out his window toward the ground. There were no lights below, so he guessed that they must be over water. He looked across the cabin at the other passengers. Their faces were white with fear. He glanced at Marker, who appeared as calm as ever.

"Dyna?" Frank asked quietly, keeping his turned head forward so as not to attract attention to himself.

"She knows," Marker replied, "Help is on the way."

"I don't want anyone hurt."

"YOU!" the hijacker holding the hand grenade yelled, "You have something to say? You say to me!" he ordered. "Everybody keep quiet. You come here!" he was looking at Frank.

The other passengers looked on fearfully as Frank stalled.

"I won't say anything else. I promise," Frank answered.

"COME HERE!"

"Please; this man will not bother you any more," Marker said, standing.

Frank was in the window seat and Marker was in the middle. The aisle seat was vacant.

"You want to die, fool?" he yelled. He reached under his jacket pulling out a club, and struck Marker across the face, knocking him back into his seat. Gasps and cries came from the other passengers.

Frank knew that this would not hurt Marker in the least, and that Marker had fallen back into his seat intentionally to avoid conflict. The whole action was intended to distract the hijacker from Frank. It worked. The hijacker was called away and Frank was saved from nasty beating. But it did not stop him from hearing the muffled crying nearby.

"Report," Frank whispered.

"No damage, sir. How does it look?"

"The blood looks real. I like your bruise."

"Thank you, sir."

Frank heard yelling and screaming at the front of the plane. A young girl could faintly be heard squealing, "No, no, please, no."

"What's going on, Marker?"

"As far as I can tell, they're preparing to kill someone."

"Stop them."

"Yes, sir."

They brought one of the passengers to the back of the plane—a young man, pushing him along while holding his hair. He had been beaten. Some of the passengers murmured. Some cried.

Marker stood up at a crouch and slid into the aisle. Frank watched as Marker sprinted ten yards in a quarter of a second, and with computer accuracy and speed, disabled two of the hijackers. A moment later the two hijackers lay on the floor unconscious and the young man had been seated. Their guns were destroyed, lying in pieces on the floor of the cabin.

It was the ensuing lack of commotion that aroused the attention of the other hijacker, particularly the one with the hand grenade, who promptly threw it at Marker.

Screams and gasps penetrated the air as Marker snatched the grenade out of the air and swallowed it whole. A moment later there was a loud thud. Nearby passengers stared in disbelief as he calmly walked back to his seat and sat down next to Frank.

"I'm afraid I can't be of any more assistance to you, sir," Marker said, and his head fell forward. For a moment he sat erect in his seat. Then his whole upper body slumped forward against the seat in front of him. The man sitting in front of him peered over the back of his chair at Marker.

"He’ll be alright," Frank told him.

The man refused to turn around.

"Indigestion," Frank said, and the man finally sat back in his seat.

Frank looked on in anger and sadness. Marker had been a friend to him. But he had saved a young man’s life and put two of the hijackers out of commission, not to mention their weapons. Now there were only two armed hijackers left to deal with.

Dyna monitored Marker's communications link during the hyjacking. Marker still transmitted his homing signal and would continue to do so for several days yet, after which time, without intervention, he would vaporize and turn to dust.

The hijacker that had thrown the hand grenade ran to the front of the plane to warn the other two of what he had just witnessed. But now, with the exception of his club, he was weaponless. A couple of minutes later he came running back with his partner—the one with the machine-gun. They stopped and stood next to Marker.

"What is this?" The man with the gun asked, looking at Frank, "Is this a trick? You will die now if you don't tell me!"

"It's a robot," Frank answered, calmly.

"You LIE!" he said, wildly, pointing his gun at Frank's face.

The hijacker froze, as a loud, tearing noise came from the back of the aircraft and below-decks.

Frank looked over his shoulder to see what held the hijackers in shock. It was a mountain of an android in the shape of a man, with silvery mirror-sheened skin. Frank recognized Trong.

"Oh my gawd!" came from somewhere.

"What is it?" from somewhere else.

"Damn!"

"Just keep quiet!" from the same place.

Frank looked at the hijackers and said, "Now you're gonna get it."

Its deep, powerful voice was unmistakable. "Drop your weapon or die."

"I wouldn't piss him off, if I were you," Frank warned.

For a moment, the two hijackers stood frozen. Then, the one with the machine gun aimed it at Trong and fired. The roar of the machine gun deafened as the slapping of bullets flattening themselves against Trong's impenetrable skin. The hijacker emptied the clip against Trong. With lightning speed Trong rushed forward and disabled the hijacker, knocking him unconscious. The one with the club dropped it, put his hands in the air, begging for mercy.

"Are you alright, sir?" he asked Frank.

"I'm fine, Trong. See to the rest of the hijackers. What about the one in the cockpit?"

"That one has been disabled. I will check the rest of the passengers. More help is on the way. An aircar will be here shortly to get you away from here."

"How did you get the one up front?"

"That one was disabled by Spydre. I will secure the law-breakers for the authorities to deal with. They'll cause no more problems."

"There was a bomb on-board somewhere."

"That has been located and disarmed."

"Who are you?" The man in the seat in front of him was looking at him again.

"Be seated, sir. Everything is under control." Trong's voice was a commandment. The man jumped back into his seat.

"Mind your own business, Fred," came from the seat next to him. It sounded like his wife.

"Daddy, can I have a robot like that one for Christmas?"

"No. Be quiet."

Frank sat and waited as Trong made rounds checking for more hijackers.

Scanning all of the passengers, he managed to find one with a pistol. That one turned out to be an off-duty Turkish policeman. More help and supplies arrived in the aircar. All five of the hijackers were handcuffed and stuffed into one of the lavatories, then the door was welded shut. Frank would not have thought that possible if he had not seen Trong stuff them in there. Shortly, a human-shaped workbot came and gathered Marker, carrying him off. Then Trong returned.

"The aircar is ready, sir. Please come with me."

"What about the rest of the passengers?"

"We have checked all of the passengers. They are sound. The stewards will care for the injured man. He'll survive. We must leave."

Frank followed Trong to the back of the plane and into the luggage compartment. At the center of the compartment was a hole between the aircraft and something down below. He looked down into the hole, seeing the interior of the aircar. Momentarily, he felt some misgivings about climbing out the bottom of an airliner in flight. Finally, he loosened up and climbed down into the aircar. When he got in he saw Marker stored in the back. As soon as Frank had seated himself, Spydre entered and hovered in midair.

Shortly, the aircar detached itself from the aircraft, and Frank could see workbots scrambling to reseal the hole in its belly.

"Dyna, can you hear me?"

"Affirmative, Frank."

"Would you get that thing out of here please, it scares the hell out of me."

"Spydre was your invention, Frank."

"I know."

A small compartment opened and Spydre zipped into it and disappeared.

"Where to, Frank?"

"Drop me off in Turkey."

Frank was taken to Turkey, and within a day, Marker returned to him, all shiny and new, completely repaired. The rest of Frank’s holiday was fairly uneventful, with the exception of a few minor incidents, the type of which are normal during vacations.

He returned to his home deep in the Nevada desert after three months and found it completely remodeled. The crew had been living there and in the starship during their training period. All had just returned from two week long visits to their respective homes and were ready to begin the trip.

When the day came to leave, Dyna brought the shuttle down from behind the moon, where the starship was kept hidden, and landed it in the desert. Frank said goodbye to his home while everyone got into the landcar. He then got into the vehicle with his crew and it drove out to the desert towards the sleek, low profile shuttlecraft about four miles away.

They were two miles out when Frank looked back to see his home and garden turn to dust in a light explosion. Only the desert and mountains remained. The landcar stopped at the front of the shuttle and everyone got out. Then it scurried around to the back of the shuttle and disappeared up a ramp into an open storage bay. The ramp was drawn up until it was flush with the shuttle’s hull, becoming then a part of the shuttle’s exterior skin. A smaller door stood open and bright lights lit up the entrance. They looked around at each other for a few moments, and then Captain and crew started walking up the ramp leading into the shuttle.

Once everyone was aboard and seated, the shuttle lifted, gently and swiftly, into the atmosphere, and was high into the darkness of space in a few moments. Frank had a window seat, as usual, and looked out over the world he knew he would not see again for a long time. He did not know how he knew this, it seemed he could almost only feel it. But he knew.

The 200,000-kilometer trip to the moon took only a few minutes. It was as uneventful as driving a car to the store down the street.

Each person found spacious private living quarters and even more spacious public quarters within. There were game rooms, libraries, dining rooms, athletic fields, swimming pools, TV rooms, classrooms and myriad other rooms. Dyna reminded them that anything they had on earth could be easily manufactured on the ship. There were even a zoo and a farm, both of which, out of necessity, were tended by robots.

"Is everything ready?" Frank asked.

"All systems are go, Frank," Dyna replied.

"Let's go then."

There was a hush on the command deck as the forty-three point seven megaton starship quietly rounded the edge of the moon. Frank saw the sun come up as he watched the earth float away. The ship stopped in space for a moment, where he could still see the sun. Then it took a new direction. He watched the sun as it turned red, and in moment of fierce acceleration became a tiny speck and then disappeared into the background of space.

Two

To the aft of the ship, the stars turned red and faded together into a mass, while forward, a blue spot in space grew larger and larger.

"Approaching light speed, Frank," Dyna said. Frank said nothing, but sat and marveled. Sitting in this room gave him the visual sensation of being surrounded by space and experiencing the same motions as the ship, without having to worry about the physiological problems of actually being there. In reality, the room was a sphere onto which was projected an image of what was going on outside the ship.

"Temporal shift in twelve seconds," Dyna said, again receiving no reply.

The next few moments were ones Frank would never forget as long as he lived.

The blue spot in front of the ship expanded and grew rapidly until it became bright blue at the edges and deepened to a dark violet directly in front of the ship. Everything aft of the ship had melded into a red disc. For an instant Frank felt as though he might be crushed between the two discs as they passed into infinity. The blackness of space was gone, as were the stars. Everything was either dark red or violet.

Then, a pure white sky engulfed the ship, seemingly by sneaking up from behind and swallowing it. The red disc was bleached out by the white of transpace as the violet disc shrank and turned into a pretty blue star. Space here was white and had a whole new set of stars, each one easily remembered by its color.

"We're at superlight velocity now, Frank, presently three hundred and twenty thousand kilometers per second and acceleration is constant at thirty kilometers per second squared," Dyna remarked.

Frank stared at the different stars, each with its own aura, each a different flavor. He sat and watched for several minutes. Finally, he touched a switch on the arm of his chair and a moment later he was on the bridge. There, five of the crewmembers were busy watching screens. They were as awestruck as he was. He guessed that the rest must still be in the visual spheres. The environment on the bridge seemed to bring him back to his senses, as though he had been hypnotized.

"Are you alright Frank? You look a little dazed," Anna asked. Maria, Sandy, Michelle and Nikki started popping out of their visual spheres, also bleary-eyed and slightly dazed.

"Ah, yeah, I'm okay. What an experience! That was incredible. Dyna should have taken me up earlier, when she was doing those test runs. I never realized what I've been missing."

"It was beautiful, wasn't it," Suni interjected.

"But also a little scary," Anna said.

"Dyna gave us a schedule, Frank. Looks like you're on first shift. However, this is second shift, so Paddy and I are on now. You'll be on in fifteen hours."

"Sounds fine to me. Dyna, what's our ETA to destination at present acceleration?"

"Approximately two hundred and seventy years, Frank." A few gasps came out.

"Gee, is there any way we can shorten that?"

"Yes, we can increase our acceleration."

"What are we running now, thirty kpss?"

"Negative," Dyna answered, "Presently our acceleration is one hundred and sixty, and increasing in steps."

Suni interrupted, "That was my decision Frank. I asked Dyna not to apply full acceleration right away, as a precautionary measure. We don't really know what's out there yet."

"I agree. We should take a little time to test the waters. What final acceleration will we need in order to arrive there within a reasonable time period?"

"About four hundred thousand, Frank," Suni answered, as more gasps slipped into the air. "And that will get us to our destination, thirty-two thousand light-years away, in three weeks. Our turn-point velocity will be three hundred and thirty billion KPS. If we hit anything, we'll be dust."

"Well, at least it'll be quick," Frank answered. "Looks like we have a little time on our hands. Anyone for a game of tennis?"

"Me!"

"I do!"

"Me too!"

So, Frank and Nikki played a few games of doubles against Heidi and Sandy, while Michelle, Anna, Tia and Maria looked on from the sidelines and Paddy watched from the bridge. Afterwards, the players showered and dressed for dinner. Everyone came to dinner including the watch crew, though Suni kept a console next to her as she ate.

After dinner Frank said, "How about a movie?"

"Sorry, Frank," Michelle answered, "Anna and I are on in four hours. I don't know about her, but I'm going to get some sleep."

"I must also," Anna answered.

"I'd like to see a movie!" Nikki answered, "I've never seen an American movie where the voices were not in my own language. I'd like to hear what those people really sound like."

Frank laughed and said, "And so you shall."

Those who were not on duty or asleep watched a movie.

Afterwards Frank went to bed. The lights dimmed and he lay there thinking, until he was disturbed by someone entering his quarters.

"Frank… are you awake?"

The voice was Nikki's and her silhouette told him she was scantily dressed.

"Yes," Frank answered, not really knowing what to say or expect. He sat up in his bed.

"May I sleep with you tonight? I'm a little scared and I want to be with you," she said as she walked into his room.

Frank was taken aback by this unusual request as he tried to discover the reasoning behind it.

"What are you scared of Nikki? What's bothering you?"

"I'm just… a little scared… and lonely. I miss my home."

"But you've only been away for a few hours."

"I know, but I've never been this far away. Oh Frank, when will I be able to go home again?"

Frank thought for a moment and said, "Any time you want Nikki. You just tell me and I'll turn this ship around and take you home."

Reassured, Nikki moved closer and sat next to him on his bed.

"I wouldn't ask you to. I only want to sleep with you… here… in your bed."

"Nikki, you're a very beautiful woman and I'm tempted to take advantage of you."

"I'm the one taking advantage of you, Frank. Let me be in your arms while I sleep, and if we make love, so much the better," she stood up and her silken nightgown glided past her lithe body, coalescing around her feet.

Frank said nothing, but stared in wonderment, amazed at the boldness and exquisite beauty of this woman. Nikki crawled under the covers next to him and held him. He put his arm around her as she laid her head on his chest. He felt her warm suppleness against his body and knew that he would lose if he tried to resist her. They fell asleep that way and sometime during the night they made love, mixing their dreams with reality, peaking, and then subsiding.

Frank awoke nine hours later at Dyna's call, somewhat rested. Nikki was up and sitting at his table eating breakfast.

"Good morning, Frank," she said, "How are you feeling this morning? If you can tell when it's morning and when it's not." She sat there looking back and forth between him and her breakfast as she ate, waiting for an answer. She was wearing his shirt with nothing underneath.

"As well as can be expected," he said groggily. "Breakfast, Dyna."

"Coming up, Frank. You're on in an hour," Dyna said.

"Never thought I'd be reporting back to work again," Frank muttered to himself as he crawled out of bed. As he clothed himself, a thought came to him. "Dyna, what do we have in the way of self defense weaponry?"

"We have warbots, spybots and of course, speed."

"Ah, not very much."

"I don't know about that, Frank," Nikki interrupted, "From what I've seen of those warbots, I don't think we have much to fear from anyone."

"Not from anyone we know. But we know nothing about other races, other civilizations and particularly, other starfaring races. I don't really expect any antagonism from them, but what if we were to run into a nasty bunch?"

"I don't understand 'nasty bunch.' What does that mean?"

"What I mean is, what if we run into other people, not like us, who are mean and want to hurt us? We have very little defense against those people, and the warbots, good as they are, simply aren't made for battles in space."

"But Frank, we're peaceful. Dyna told me we don't make war."

"True, Nikki. But peace and freedom only come to us at a price. And the price of peace and freedom is power, military power, enough power to show those who would take our freedom away from us that we can make it not worth their while. We don't want to be seen as helpless. We are, after all, very much on our own right now."

"I see what you're saying, but what can we do?"

"We can do anything. Anything you can imagine can be made. Dyna, how many warbots do we have?"

"Ten, and three more are being built."

"Let's expand that assembly line. I want to build ten each day."

"Compliance, Frank. It'll take twenty days to complete a new assembly line to meet this need."

"How are we on space? Is there enough space aboard the ship to start a few more labs and assembly lines?"

"We have four hundred and fifty thousand square meters of space available, Frank."

"In other words, plenty."

"Affirmative."

Nikki was finished eating when Frank finally sat down to start on his breakfast. She stayed at the table to keep him company and steal some of his bacon as he ate. After he finished eating he gave her a kiss and headed for the bridge. He met Heidi in the hallway on the way up.

They arrived at the bridge ten minutes early to start their shift. Michelle and Anna were on the bridge staring into 3-D imagers when they arrived. After some greetings and settling, Michelle briefed Frank and Heidi on the latest goings on.

"Dyna doesn't know what it is. She can only guess," Michelle explained.

"What do you think it is?" Frank questioned.

"I don't know, but the areas where we seem to experience it the worst are places where, according to Dyna, there's a lot of interstellar matter. It's almost as though every particle has a ghost in transpace. The particles exert a force against the forward motion of the ship. The faster we go, the worse it'll get. Right now, the forward fields are at full strength and nothing is getting through. But if the fields fail, we could become more interstellar matter. At some point, there'll be a limit to our transpace velocity."

"Has Dyna estimated that velocity?"

"She has and she hasn't. Apparently, our velocity will be limited by the amount of space dust we encounter. As we approach the center of the galaxy, we'll see more and more of it. If we leave the galaxy, there's much less to deal with. But we only seem to find it in patches. Those patches, however, can be deadly. Fortunately, we saw the problem in time. When we started to strike the first few, we increadsed the field strength. The bad part is that we can't do anything to improve the fields without going to sublight velocity. Until we reach our destination, we're stuck with what we have."

"So what's our plan now?"

"Continue on course, watch and have care. If we have to stop, then we have to stop. We're a long way from anywhere. We'll compensate as best we can."

"Dyna, is there danger of our running into a planet or star ghost?"

"No, Frank. I've plotted a course that will take us around all of the known star systems. But if we find a velocity beyond which we cannot go, we won't be more than a few weeks away from a star system where we can settle in and make adjustments."

"How badly are these 'dust ghosts' hitting us now?"

"It's not very bad at all right now, but we're increasing our velocity every moment. The effect is very light. In fact you're not able detect it with your human senses. But eventually, there'll be a battering effect that will be disturbing and perhaps even dangerous. At our present acceleration, I estimate that you'll begin to notice an occasional vibration in about four days. We have nine days before turnaround for deceleration. If we can make it that far, there'll be no foreseeable delays."

"Then I suppose we'll just have to live with it."

Things went fairly well for the next four days, and just as Dyna had predicted, Frank and the other crewmembers began to notice occasional vibrations. Each day the vibrations got worse. By the eighth day after first discovering the problem, it had nearly grown to a battering affect, so Frank and the rest of the crew all agreed to stop accelerating. They agreed that the small delay this would cause would be worth it. About a day later they crossed turnaround and another day after that they began deceleration. This did not reduce the vibration immediately, but just knowing that there would be less each day was heartening for the crew. Getting a decent night's sleep had become difficult, and eating had become a crapshoot. Even so, the crew settled into a routine.

The women had apparently set up a schedule for themselves, and each night gave Frank a new bed partner. There seemed to be no particular pattern for this. They apparently were trading off nights with one another. Frank did not interfere with this pattern, nor did he ask about it. He was satisfied with the arrangement and would not be the one to knock over the bucket. This did not imply that he had sex every night. It only meant that he never slept alone. Anything beyond that Frank left up to his consort for the night.

He made no requests and he never coerced anyone.

On the twenty-first day of the maiden voyage of the Butterworth, everyone gathered on the bridge for debreak as they approached the center of the galaxy. Suni was on shift as captain and Paddy was first mate.

"Debreak in fifty-eight minutes," Dyna said. "Visual spheres are ready and power shutdown is underway on all non-essential subsystems."

Talk was light and nervousness ran through the crew like electricity. Excitement and fear were the uniform of the day.

"Fourteen minutes," Dyna called.

"About time for the 'dazzle-sphere,"' Frank said. "Keep us out of trouble, Suni."

"Aye, Frank," she replied.

Frank, Tia, Sandy and Maria decided to do the spheres, while the rest watched from the bridge. Once again, Frank found himself surrounded by the whiteness of transpace, engulfed in an unreasonable trap of furtive disquiet.

"Eight minutes."

Frank stared as the colorful stars against the white background of space visibly slowed down. "Are we slowing down that quickly?" he asked himself. During turnaround he had seen the forward viewscreen and nearby stars had been streaking by so quickly they'd almost been invisible.

"One minute."

Now the stars were slowing down even more. Soon, they were barely moving.

"Thirty seconds."

Now the red star dead ahead grew larger. Frank knew this was not really a star, but the effects of debreak. Soon they would enter the red star and be back into realspace.

"Ten seconds."

The red star had grown large and began to consume the clean and dirty of white space. It grew larger and larger until it reached out to grab him. He jerked slightly from the impact, which never came, but found himself staring at blue. The red had properly shifted behind him.

"Debreak is completed, sublight velocity is presently two hundred and seventy-five thousand KPS," Dyna announced.

The stars flipped around as Frank found himself face-to-face with the wall of the sphere, and a slightly bloodied nose. The whole movement had occurred in a fraction of a second. He pushed himself back away from the wall and found himself weightless for a few moments. Staring at the sphere, he realized that Dyna was doing evasive maneuvers as something large, ugly and cold swept past his head, blocking off all of the stars behind it.

"What the hell was that?" he yelled.

"Black hole," Dyna responded. "Sorry about the rough ride. I responded as quickly as I knew we were headed directly towards it."

Gravity returned and Frank touched the control on the arm of his chair and returned to the bridge, his nose dripping blood.

Tia and Sandy came out of their spheres seemingly unscathed. Likewise on the bridge everyone was all right, albeit a little shaken.

"Why am I the only one bleeding?" he asked.

"You have the largest nose," Dyna answered. A couple of giggles came from the bridge crew. "I'm sorry, Frank, but it was a highly calculated maneuver. Any less and we would have collided with the dead star. I risked bumping your nose to save the ship."

"Why didn't we see it in the first place?" he asked, as a small medbot came up and started nursing him, cleaning up the dripping blood.

"We can't easily see a black hole from thirty-two thousand light-years away. This couldn't have been prevented without first charting and mapping these systems. I'm doing it now. If it's any consolation, we won't have a problem with this one again."

"Great," he answered, and sat down. The main screen viewer had finally returned to the normal black of space with white or off-white stars of multiple colors.

"Goodness, goodness me," Paddy said, as she stared at her 3-D imager.

"What?" half of the crew said.

She looked around, dumbfounded, and said, "I’m picking up subspace RF readings–radio!"

"Can you translate?" Suni asked.

"Which one?" Paddy responded.

"Which one?? How many are there?"

"Hundreds."

Three

"Can you get a fix on 'em?" Frank asked.

"They're coming from all directions. I'll try to pick one up and translate," Paddy said.

"Okay. Where's that black hole we almost killed ourselves on?"

"It's behind us, now," Suni answered.

"Don't you think we ought to check it out? There's a lot of matter there we can use—after we see what makes it tick," Frank said.

"Sure Frank. Dyna, turn us around."

"Coordinates computed… and locked in."

"ETA?"

"Fourteen minutes to orbit, Suni."

"Thank you, Dyna."

"Wow, look at the stars," Sandy interrupted.

"So many!"

"And so close!"

"And so pretty!"

The darkness of space was inundated with a sky full of light from stars, near and far.

"Dyna, verify our location, please," Frank said.

"Verifying, Frank."

"How are you doing on the translation, Dyna?" Paddy asked.

"Still working, Paddy. Everything seems to be encrypted."

"Thank you."

"Location verified, Frank, we're near the center of our galaxy, verification based on locations of known intergalactic patterns."

"Thanks, Dyna."

Everything quieted on the bridge as the starship approached the small spot in space where everything was just… missing. What light entered could not leave.

It was black inside of black.

"Any readings yet?" Frank asked.

"I'm picking up high-energy emissions at the fringes. This is definitely a black hole."

"Dyna, are we clear of the event horizon? I don't want to play around this thing for ten minutes and come out three thousand years later."

"All clear, Frank. Event horizon is four-hundred kilometers below our orbit."

"Lots of matter there, folks. It’d be nice if we could get it."

"There may be a way," Michelle interjected. "The same way we make breaklight, only much more intensified. The gravity fields would have to be much stronger. The theory can be tested, and we may have to get much closer to the event horizon."

"Or we could use a dronebot," Anna suggested.

"That would be best," Michelle agreed.

"Okay. You two can work on that," Frank said.

So, Michelle and Anna started to work on the dronebot that would be sent beneath the event horizon of the black hole. Suni and Paddy continued their watch and monitored the 'airwaves' while Dyna decoded the RF transmissions and made sure that the ship did not fall into the black hole they were orbiting. A day later, Paddy and Dyna finally began to unravel the coded RF transmissions.

"It's the news," Paddy said, "and it appears to be the galactic news, the odd thing is, it's not today's news and not even yesterday's. It seems to be anywhere from one to a thousand years old!"

"Hmmmm," Frank said, "I wonder what that means?"

"It could mean two things; One, they can't send information faster than light speed, and two, galactic space is highly commercialized."

"Yes… and that means something very important to us."

"It does?"

"Yes. It means that galactic civilization isn't as far along as we might've guessed. Or at least most of it isn’t."

"They could be sending faster-than-light signals that we can't detect."

"Perhaps. Where is it coming from?"

"Shipping traffic. Apparently, there's an awful lot of trade between star systems, and as the starships pass one another in the shipping lanes, they send radio signals back and forth."

"Good work, Paddy."

"Thanks, Frank. Oh, there is one other thing."

"Yes."

"I think I know how fast their starships travel."

"You do?"

"Maybe."

"Well?"

"About two-hundred times the speed of light, maybe three-hundred."

"That’s all?"

"I'm not certain, but we did manage to plot the heading and velocity of what we thought was a single transport. And that was the speed we got from it."

"Just one."

"We only had recorded data to go on. We can't pick up much of anything right now, we're too close to that dead star."

"I understand. Don't worry, we'll be moving away from it after we're finished figuring out whether we can get some of its matter. We can find out more later."

Anna and Michelle were ready to test their drone after a week. Ship's business was to investigate, and more had been discovered about black holes in space by Frank and his crew in that week than all of earth had been able to learn in a hundred years. In the mean time, at Frank's direction, Dyna began sending dronebots, one each week, back to earth, so that news could be kept up with there. If a disaster were to occur there, Frank had much to offer in the way of assistance. Now that he knew space was heavily populated, he worried that his home world might not go untouched by alien hands, after all, business is business.

"Is this the only dronebot we have for the event horizon experiment, Michelle?"

"Yes, Frank. But we have two more being constructed. This one is designed to go into the event horizon at well above c, so the breaklight fields will be operating, but we're going to try going in sublight with the next one."

"How can we go in sublight?"

"That's part of the experiment. We don't want to go into the black hole greater than c because we don't know what lies beyond the event horizon, but if we can find a way to approach it at a reduced velocity, perhaps we can take the entire ship inside."

"The first part's okay, but do we really want to go into this thing?"

"Frank, have you ever seen the inside of a star? Aren't you curious? I thought this was a scientific mission—a mission of discovery. We can't investigate a black hole if we can't see it."

"It is a scientific mission. But let's tread lightly here until we know what we're dealing with."

"Very well, but don't make up your mind until my experiment is complete. Wait… for me?" Michelle begged demurely.

"Alright, since you put it that way, how can I refuse."

"Mmph," she kissed him, "Thank you, darling."

"The first drone is ready to launch," Anna said.

"Good," Michelle said, "Dyna, launch the dronebot."

Frank, Michelle and Anna watched a wide-screen 3-D imager as the little neutronium-encased dronebot raced away from the ship in a quickly decaying orbit that would take it down to touch the event horizon. If Michelle's experiment worked, it would make an orbital velocity that exceeded the speed of light, enter the event horizon, and return a few minutes later. If the experiment failed, the little drone would never be heard from again.

"Radio link good?" Michelle asked.

"Radio link verified," Dyna answered. "Drone velocity approaching breaklight."

"ETA to event horizon?"

"Four minutes, thirty-one seconds."

Soon, the dronebot disappeared from the visual range of the 3-D imager.

"Tactical view, Dyna," Michelle said, and the 3-D imager gave a computer-simulated three-dimensional view of the black hole, its event horizon and the dronebot. They watched closely as the dronebot made ever tightening orbits around the black hole's event horizon. Now, the dronebot's path was represented on the 3-D imager as nothing more than an ellipse. This only because its velocity was so great.

"Breaklight in ten seconds," Dyna said.

"It's going awfully fast, Michelle. Are you certain the drone can survive the tidal forces?"

"By now, the dronebot should be making about fifteen hundred orbits every second, Frank. But don't worry, the dronebot's computer is compensating for tidals."

In the next moment, the 3-D imager flashed brightly and the trail of the dronebot was gone.

"Breaklight exceeded," Dyna announced. "Radio link broken."

"Theoretical projection please, Dyna," Michelle requested.

The 3-D imager now displayed a theoretical plot of the dronebot's path, which was represented by a blue circle that drew tighter and tighter around the black hole's event horizon.

"Event horizon in thirty seconds, twenty-three hundred orbits per second."

"How do we know this is actually happening, Michelle?"

"We don't. The whole projection is simulated. For all we know, the drone could be on the other side of the universe right now, or even destroyed. We can only guess."

They watched and waited as the blue circle drew up and finally into the event horizon, stayed there for a few seconds, and then came out again. Fingers were crossed as the drone's path became a blue ellipse and began to expand again.

"Ten seconds to debreak."

The ellipse became wider and wider and ten seconds later, the blue ellipse disappeared completely from the screen.

"Dyna, radio link?"

"Negative radio link, Michelle."

"Nothing?"

"I'm scanning."

"Where is it?" Frank asked.

"It should be on the imager," Anna said, amazed. "It should be a white line."

"So, what now?"

"We wait."

"How long?"

"I don't know. We could wait forever and not see it again," Michelle answered. "But if the drone survived, it'll return to the ship. If it ends up on the other side of the universe, it'll try to find its way back to earth and report there. Eventually we'll know if it survived."

"I have a scan," Dyna interrupted.

"Radio link?"

"Negative. An unidentified object is there at sublight velocity. And it's making an elliptical orbit around the black hole… velocity decreasing."

"That has to be it," Michelle said.

"But the radio link is dead," Anna responded, "Something's gone wrong."

"We're being scanned."

"From what?"

"From the object."

"ID?"

"Negative identification."

"It's paralleling our orbit and moving closer," Dyna said.

The object was now portrayed on the 3-D imager as a red spot, for being unidentified.

"Battle configuration, Dyna; warn the bridge. Go to Condition Yellow," Frank ordered, and as he said it the alarm sounded.

"Sandy's at the helm and she's already ordered it, Frank," Dyna answered.

"They've been monitoring the experiment. All hands are reporting in."

"What's the object doing now, Dyna?"

"It's moving on a collision course with us."

"Have you identified it yet?"

"Negative identification. I'm still scanning."

"It has to be the drone, but why isn't it responding?" Michelle ventured.

"Maybe it can't," Anna suggested.

"Collision in one minute," Dyna reported.

"Object identified," Dyna called, "it's the dronebot, but it's badly damaged and doesn't respond to commands."

"Stand down Condition Yellow."

The Condition Yellow alarm shut off and they waited for the next move.

"Is there a danger of damage to the hull at the object's present velocity, Dyna?" Frank asked.

"There could be minor damage, but that can be repaired quickly. The drone is programmed to slow before returning."

"Okay. Let's see what it does before we do any evasives."

As expected, the drone finally slowed and returned to the ship. Ten minutes later Dyna reported.

"Radiation and bio-scan complete. The drone is prepared for examination," she said, as the drone was wheeled into the lab.

Michelle was visibly shocked when she saw it, "What happened to it?"

"Looks like the tidal forces got it," Frank answered, "I suspected as much. We're lucky we got it back at all."

The drone was visibly stretched. What had been a dronebot two and a half meters in length and one meter wide was now four meters in length and three quarters of a meter wide. It clearly showed stretch marks down its length. The neutronium casing had been horribly distorted.

"Aren't you glad we didn't go in there?" Frank said, amusingly.

"Don't make fun of our experiment," Michelle said.

Anna giggled. A couple of robots came out of their compartments and began dissecting the little ruined drone. Piece by piece of the dronebot's skin came off until its guts were exposed. Everything inside the drone was crushed to dust except the computer and the field-drive generator. The surviving components were visibly distorted.

"It must have expended every bit of power it had just to keep itself from tearing apart," Anna said. "focusing its gravity fields on its critical components. The radio link must be some of that slag in the end there." She pointed.

"We'll count this as a partial success, Michelle," Frank said.

"Maybe," she answered, "but we still need to see the data it gathered."

"Sure. Let me know when you've analyzed it."

Frank left and headed back for the common recreation room. When he arrived, Suni, Paddy and Heidi were discussing something about a solar system.

"We watched the experiment—too bad," Paddy said.

"Not really bad. We discovered quite a lot."

"That's good. We've been talking about a solar system we found nearby—fifteen light-years away."

"Yes," Suni interrupted, "we think we've located satellites—planets."

"And we'd like to investigate," Heidi joined in.

"Sure, but what about Michelle and Anna's experiment?"

"We can wait. But we'd like to make that our next destination," Paddy said.

"Okay. We’ll discuss it over dinner with the rest of the crew," Frank answered.

That evening, everyone agreed on this idea and new plans were made. Michelle and Anna launched the second dronebot the very next day.

"This one will go in at sublight speed. The fields will activate gradually, and hopefully counteract the effects of the event horizon," Michelle explained.

They watched as the second drone was launched, made a small orbit around the black hole's event horizon and finally disappeared into it. Thirty seconds later the drone popped out of the event horizon.

"Dyna, verify radio link, please," Michelle said.

"Radio link verified, the drone reports all systems good, Michelle."

Frank had a big grin on his face when Michelle turned to look at him. She walked over and gave him a kiss and a hug.

"You see, our experiment worked."

"I never doubted you for a moment."

"That's what you say now," and Frank laughed.

"When do you launch the third drone, Michelle?"

"Tomorrow. The third drone will go deeper—into the heart of the black hole to collect data. It'll be inside the event horizon for thirty minutes."

The next day the third and final drone was launched into the heart of the black hole. Everyone on board watched as the little drone disappeared into the event horizon.

"How long has it been now?" Frank asked.

"Only five minutes," Anna said.

"Seems like an hour. Will it take any samples?"

"No, but it is going to do an experiment."

"What sort of experiment?"

"The drone is going directly to the heart of the black hole. Once there, it'll attempt to alter the gravitational field of the singularity—the particle that lies at the center. If it succeeds, we'll detect a momentary change in the event horizon."

"Then what?"

"If we're able to weaken the gravitational pull of the singularity, then we'll be able to go in with a much more powerful drone and remove the event horizon altogether."

"Then we can grab the singularity and run?"

"Well, not quite," Anna said, chuckling, "But what we may be able to do is alter the gravitational field of the singularity itself, and then absorb the matter piece by piece as it expands."

Twenty-five minutes had gone by since the drone had been launched and the crew was waiting for the final experiment to show its effects.

"One minute from now, we'll know if we can alter the fields of a black hole," Anna said, "Dyna, display diameter of the event horizon."

"Compliance Anna—displayed."

The number came up. It read "67.18223 Kilometers."

"That's it?" Frank exclaimed, "Sixty-seven kilometers across?" Frank watched as the last digit in the number on the imager toggled between three and four.

"Ten seconds," Dyna announced.

Some of the crew watched the large screen 3-D imager of the black hole and some watched the number on the small imager. The number on the imager changed. It read "67.18267 Kilometers," but only for a moment, and then returned to the original number with the last digit toggling between three and four.

"That’s it!" Michelle said.

"But it didn't change very much," Frank said, confused.

"It didn't have to," Michelle answered, "we already know that if we can change it a little, we can change it a lot."

A few minutes later the drone finally popped out of the event horizon. Dyna reported that radio contact with the drone was good, and that the drone was unharmed. That evening, ship time, they decided to have a big dinner with Anna and Michelle as the guests of honor.

The next morning someone yelling over the ship’s intercom jolted Frank out of bed.

"Frank! Frank, wake up!" it was Michelle.

"What?"

"Come down here, quickly."

Suni had been with him that night and she also was crawling out of the bed They both threw some clothes on and rushed down to Anna and Michelle's lab where they'd been doing their experiments. When they arrived, they found Anna and Michelle peering into a 3-D imager.

Michelle saw them first, "You have to look at this."

Frank and Suni both looked into the 3-D imager while Anna made room for them. Michelle pressed a key and another display popped up.

"Here's another one." She pressed another key, "And another… and another."

"What are they?" Frank asked.

"They're starships! Starships."

"Where?" Frank started looking around for the large screen 3-D imager to see where they were.

"In there," Michelle had her finger pointed at the large imager on the wall. Frank looked, but the only thing he saw was the image of the black hole.

"In the black hole?"

"Yes."

"Wow, how many?"

"We've counted four so far."

"Gee, how long have they been in there?"

"We estimate that the oldest one has been in stasis for eighteen thousand years—our time, and the newest has been, perhaps four hundred years. But they're definitely starships. And there is much other debris also. If we remove the gravitational field of the singularity right now, we'll have a disaster on our hands. Nothing at the center would be able to survive the influx of matter because it would all be moving too fast."

"You're right. But I think that we ought to try and get those starships out of there. The people onboard are probably still alive."

"But we don't know who they are or what they can do."

"We know that they can't get themselves out of a black hole. That puts us at least one step ahead."

That day, they discussed what should be done about the four alien spacecraft found inside the black hole. They agreed that their ability to manipulate gravity should be kept a secret, and that being the case, the four spacecraft should be rescued, but remain in stasis, so their crews would not know who had rescued them. Such they would remain until the Butterworth arrived near a more populated area of space, then the four starships would be cast into orbit about some planet from a distance. Unfortunately, no one had the slightest idea how all this would be done.

"What about suspended animation?" Sandy asked.

"We know nothing of their physiology," Tia said.

"We could study them and perhaps learn something that way."

"That may be possible, but how?" Suni asked.

"Perhaps the same way we did the drones. We could send in a couple of workbots to pry open the ships, and a couple of medbots to analyze the aliens, find out how to freeze them and then pull them out. We could leave the spacecraft behind and just collect the bodies," Sandy answered.

"But we need to know they're still alive. I can't imagine how those spacecraft were caught in a black hole unless they were disabled and just running adrift. And if that's the case, they could've been drifting for thousands of years. By now their bodies would be nothing more than dust," Frank interrupted.

"Then I suggest that an exploratory would be our first step. Collect all the information we can right now, because we can't go much further on theories and guesswork," Sandy said.

Everyone else agreed. It took two weeks to design and construct the workbots that would pry their way into the four alien spacecraft. Since Michelle and Anna were the ones who understood the most about the black hole, they were put in charge of the project. They were also charged with designing the medbots that would analyze the alien bodies. And then they had to create a new device, a gravity field injector. This would be needed for the delicate work of boring into the alien spacecraft and moving around in the thick atmospheres inside. Temporal stasis would be difficult to do.

Six bots were sent into the event horizon, two workbots, two medbots and two databots. All were armed with the new gravity field injectors that Anna and Michelle had designed. An hour later, two more workbots were sent in to begin collecting up debris and converting and containing it as pure neutronium. Every hour, a dronebot was sent in to get progress reports. In the third hour, another spacecraft was discovered.

"A passenger liner," Michelle announced, "and the medbots report eight-hundred and sixty-six passengers, alive and well. They've been in there for three hundred years. The medbots are reporting eight different species of alien life forms aboard."

"This is a mess," Frank said, disgusted, "now we have to pull that whole starship out."

"Why?" Michelle asked.

"Because there's just too much we'd have to do to freeze all those people. It would take a couple of months just to build all the suspension chambers."

"Did they say how big the liner is?" Anna asked.

"I'll check." Michelle examined her imager and said, "The liner is four hundred meters in length."

"Okay, so we can tow it out. It's too big to put inside our ship. What about the other four?"

"The databots say they're all cargo vessels, the smallest one is three hundred and fifty meters in length, and the but largest one is over fourteen hundred meters long."

"Good lord, that's almost a mile!"

"But, there is good news."

"Yeah?"

"I've been doing some experiments with the gravity field projectors. I think there's a way for us to move the alien starships, and keep them in stasis at the same time."

"Good, get on it right away. And let me know when you have something."

The exploratory bots all returned twelve hours later, while the two workbots collecting debris remained. Two more workbots were sent in the next day to help. After a week, Michelle and Anna had designed a new contraption and were ready to show Frank and the rest of the crew what it could do.

"We call it the Kiruna-Corbyn engine," Michelle announced.

"What it does," Anna explained, "is project a gravity field strong enough to reproduce it's own containable event horizon, thereby keeping it's host in stasis. But a second field is produced outside of the event horizon that allows the entire assemblage to be accelerated to breaklight. The final portion is a standard Jameson Drive."

"Jameson Drive?" Frank queried.

"Yes, the one you designed. We felt that you should have your name on it."

"Okay," Frank chuckled, "so how do you know it works?"

"We're fairly certain it'll work from the experiments we've done. We've already removed a small meteor from the black hole and have been able to keep it in stasis. The next step is to remove one of the cargo ships. We've chosen the one with the smallest crew aboard. A databot will remain aboard while we do this, and if anything goes wrong, we'll immediately desist in the experiment and replace the cargo ship inside the event horizon. Is everything ready, Dyna?"

"All systems are ready, Anna."

"How big is this cargo ship?"

"It's the small one. It has a crew of twelve aliens. "

"We're ready to begin the experiment."

"Sure, go ahead."

"Dyna, please begin."

"Compliance, Frank. Drones launched."

They looked on as four small drones and a large drone, which Frank assumed, must have been the Kiruna-Corbyn Engine. Twenty minutes later, the first drone emerged from the event horizon, as a hole grew as a faint red glow. The Kiruna-Corbyn Engine appeared out of the red glowing hole that grew larger and larger. The Engine backed away slowly from the red glowing hole in the event horizon. Then two more drones popped out of the black hole, and stationed themselves around what appeared to be an elongated black hole.

Then the red glow on the event horizon went away. One of the two drones stationed outside of the invisible spacecraft moved closer and disappeared into the new black hole that had been created around the cargo vessel. A minute later it popped out again.

"The first part of the experiment was successful," Michelle announced, as she peered into her imager, "The drone reports that the ship has remained in stasis and that everything aboard is normal."

"There is one more test to be completed yet," Anna said. "Now we have to see if we can accelerate everything through breaklight. Then we'll know if the whole experiment will be a success. Dyna, continue."

"Compliance Anna," Dyna answered.

Frank watched the wall imager as four objects became white lines and vanished into space. A half-hour later four white lines appeared on the imager momentarily and then became the same four objects which had left earlier.

Michelle looked over her imager and made herself clear, "Now we can celebrate!"

"Good work ladies, you've saved a lot of lives down there. Now let's go ahead and get the rest of those people out."

That evening there was another small celebration honoring Anna and Michelle for their new invention.

The next week was filled with work. Four more Kiruna-Corbyn engines were built and the other four alien spacecraft were pulled out of the black hole and placed in stasis. Dyna reported that the workbots inside of the black hole had collected up four billion metric tons of debris and converted it to neutronium, but it would take another two months to clean it out properly and make it safe enough to go in and get the singularity. On learning of this Frank decided that they would place a workbot station within the black hole and return there at a later date. Meanwhile, the collected neutronium was installed onto the hull of the Butterworth to build up its strength.

Their next project would be the solar system that Suni, Paddy, and Heidi had discovered. Hopefully, they would soon find a place to drop off their cargo of black hole victims.

Maria and Sandy were at the helm, but Frank and a few other crewmembers came up to the bridge to watch as the trip started.

"Course laid in, Dyna?" Maria asked.

"Affirmative Maria, course computed and locked in."

"What about our guests, and the Kiruna-Corbyn engines?"

"All external systems are ready. They're programmed to the same destination."

"ETA to destination?"

"Seven hours and forty-three minutes."

"Engage."

Once again, Frank watched as space distorted around him and the stars began to meld together as one.

"Breaklight in ten seconds," Dyna announced.

The forward imager turned violet and then pure white as the stars all changed colors. They were back into transpace. Seven and a half hours later, Paddy called Frank at the Zoo. He had been visiting there, watching the animals for the whole trip, Nikki and Tia at his side. They'd had a picnic under a tree that day under a simulated sun and sky.

"Debreak in ten minutes, Frank," Tia said.

Shifts had changed over the short seven and a half hour trip. Suni and Paddy were at the helm. Debreak was less uneventful and soon they were in a large orbit around the star.

"It's an M-type star, small, with only four planets," Paddy explained.

"Not much here, eh," Frank said.

Heidi, Tia and Nikki had joined them on the bridge, and watched as Paddi scanned the four planets of the lone system.

"No life form readings. Let's move on to the next planet."

They moved out to the second planet and again found no life form readings.

"No RF, no life forms, no nothing, it's just a dead planet. It doesn't even have an atmosphere. And it's icy cold. At the hottest point it's temperature is seventy below zero. I'm afraid we probably won't have much luck with the next two, they're even further away from their sun."

They moved out to the third planet and found more of the same thing, only colder. The fourth planet was even worse off than the third.

"Let's go back and have another look at the first planet. At least it had an atmosphere," Frank said.

They returned to the first planet and looked it over in more detail.

"The atmosphere is C-O-two and hydrogen. A point nine-five gravity and it's about twelve thousand meters across. The temperature is a little cold. You know, we could turn this into a right nice little planet with a little bit of molecule splitting. Put a few plants and trees on it, come back in about twenty years or so, and it'd be green as ever."

Frank looked around and saw everyone looking at Paddy and wondering.

"Are you serious?" he asked.

"Of course. We know now that the star here is in its pre-red dwarf stage but it still has a few million good years on it. We could make this planet our own. No one else lives here. Why not us? It'd be a great vacation spot. There's plenty of atmosphere to make an ocean or two," Paddy explained.

"Anyone object?"

Suni and Heidi were quick to join in and support Paddy in her project.

"Alright, you've got your planet," Frank agreed.

For the next week, everyone on the ship was either down on the planet that they had named 'Donnybrook’ after Paddy, or onboard the starship working out ways to convert the planet's atmosphere so that it could warm up and support life. After three weeks, large matter converting engines were in place all over the planet, ten in all were placed. Sandy, Anna and Michelle invented the matter converters.

Frank asked how they worked.

"What they do, is collect the carbon dioxide, split off the oxygen atoms and burn them into the hydrogen. Of the carbon that's left over, a small portion is released back into the atmosphere, while the rest is converted into nitrogen. We're using neutrons to bust up the carbon atoms and nuclear fields to reform them into nitrogen atoms," Sandy explained.

"What about the plants we've put down there?" he asked.

"They're right outside the exhaust ports of the matter converters. They'll have plenty of water, oxygen, and carbon dioxide, and there's plenty of dirt for them to grow in. We've left a little bit of fertilizer behind to help them grow, and also plenty of microscopic life to start breaking down the soils. In five years, the atmosphere should be completely converted over, and in ten years, the whole planet should be teeming with plant life, even if it's only microbial. We'll also be leaving a troop of workbots to tend the plants and spread them around the planet."

So Paddy's project was completed as far as it could go for the time being. In ten of fifteen years time, they would be able to return to a lush green planet. Five weeks had been spent here and still on Frank's mind was where to deposit the five starships they had removed from the black hole.

"I've found a shipping lane near here. It's heavily traveled and they're likely to be picked up in a few days. There's something odd about this particular highway though. It seems to have a turn point where starships actually change course. I've plotted the vectors and it's as though this lane is meant to avoid the black hole we recently visited," Sandy explained.

"How far away is it?"

"Twelve and a half light-years. And also I've found a very large source of the RF we've been monitoring. It's coming from a star about ninety light-years away. My bet is we'll find intelligent life there."

Frank gaped for a moment. There it was. A chance to meet other intelligent life forms. And now he was not so sure he wanted to. Hesitation was in his thoughts as he mulled this over. Then he wondered about the defense of his ship and its crew.

"How are our weapons systems coming along?"

"Fairly well. We now have four weapons systems; tachyon cannons, neutron torpedoes, a magnetic defense shield and lase cannons. We're armed to the teeth."

Frank thought for a moment, then said, "And still I hesitate."

"Why?"

"I don't know. It could be just fear of the unknown, but it could also be instinct. At any rate I'm uncertain."

"I think it's natural to be a little hesitant. If you weren't I'd be worried. At least now I know your not going to blaze your way in recklessly. Whatever you decide, Frank, you've got my support—one hundred percent."

"Thanks, Sandy."

The trip to the nearest point in the shipping lane would take six and a half hours. Frank was at the helm when the trip started. When they arrived at their destination they were one light-year away from the shipping lane, Suni was in command.

"Alright, Dyna, send them off. Be certain to get the Kiruna-Corbyn engines out of there fast, don't let them stay for very long."

"Compliance, Suni."

"How long will this take?" Paddy asked.

"About four hours. They're programmed to take the five alien spacecraft out to the shipping lanes, drop them off, hopefully without being detected, and get away before anyone knows what's happened. We can only hope they'll be picked up."

Four hours later, the five Kiruna-Corbyn engines returned safe and sound, and reported no difficulties completing their task.

"Dyna, where is Frank?"

"Frank is in the recreation room, Suni."

"Patch me through."

A moment later, he answered, "Yes, Suni."

"I'm ready to engage the drives for our next destination, Frank. I wanted to let you know beforehand."

A few moments passed before he answered. "Okay, go ahead."

Suni looked over at Paddy for a moment and Paddy looked back at her, both wondering why he had hesitated.

"Dyna… engage the drives."

"Compliance, Suni. Drives are engaged."

"ETA?"

"Seventeen hours, thirty-seven minutes to destination."

Seventeen hours and forty minutes later, Frank was at the helm with Heidi, and they were being hailed.

"Translation, Heidi?"

"Working, Frank. I'll have it in a few more minutes."

Frank watched the main bridge imager as three little alien starships sat in front of him barring his way. They weren't moving, but neither was he. And he had no intention of moving until he knew what they wanted. Nikki and Tia had joined them. Frank felt that a double command crew would be able to handle more problems.

"Tia, how's your scan going?"

"Scan completed, Frank, compiling data now."

And they waited. The minutes felt like hours to Frank.

"Scan completed, Frank," Tia said.

"Talk to me."

"The three spacecraft are nearly identical. Their hulls are made of a simple steel alloy, their weapons appear to be a laser cannon and nuclear torpedoes. Each carries a crew of four. The drive Systems they use are similar to the ones on the spacecraft we pulled out of the black hole, but I'm still not sure how they operate. Also, they've attempted to scan us, but were unable to do so."

"Thank you, Tia."

"I have it, Frank. I have the translation,"' Heidi interrupted, "It's certainly direct."

"What are they saying?"

"We’re under arrest."

Four

"Under arrest? For what?"

"Well, if I've sifted through all the legal jargon correctly, I think it's for operating an unlicensed spacecraft in a controlled sector."

"They sure have a lot of guts."

"What do you mean?"

"They don't look very threatening. How can they arrest us with only those tin cans they’re in?"

"I suppose it's like the lone policeman. He doesn't look very threatening to the heavily armed gunman, but he has a whole army behind him if he has any trouble. And I'm certain they have a radio link. Someone on the planet below is watching every move we make."

"Confirmed," Tia said. "All three patrol craft are transmitting encrypted information to the planet below."

"Can you decode it?"

"It would take a while."

"It doesn't matter. They’re probably telling them that they’re scared out of their shorts right now."

Heidi laughed. "That could be. If you want to talk to them, I think I can translate for you."

"Okay, tell them we come in peace, that we're an exploration vessel, and that we're not familiar with the laws governing this sector of the galaxy, I shouldn't say 'galaxy' should I. Then they'd know how far we came."

"If we want to keep our secrets, it wouldn't be wise," Heidi agreed.

"Then just tell them we're not familiar with the laws of this region."

"Translating now… okay, transmitted, and I've also sent a friendly greeting."

"Good idea."

They waited for a half an hour before they were contacted again. Frank was getting bored and began running through the data that had been gathered from the scan Tia did on the three alien spacecraft. They watched their monitors as large cargo ships came in from stars unknown to make landfall, and as other cargo ships took off again. He felt it very important that the aliens had not been able to scan his starship. That would give him an edge in dealing with these people.

"Oh, they're back," Heidi said, "They say, 'You are ordered to make landfall at the following planetary coordinates, and they've given us some strange numbers here. I'll have to translate them."

"Tell them we'll comply."

"What?" Sheila was surprised.

"Don't worry, we're not going to take the whole ship down, we'll go down in a shuttle… armed."

"With what?"

"With warbots and spybots. Tia, have you analyzed the atmosphere yet?"

"Yes, Frank. It's seventeen percent oxygen and the rest is helium and nitrogen. You shouldn't have any problem breathing."

"What about microbes?"

"If you wear a neutronium skin-suit, it should filter out everything," Nikki interrupted.

The neutronium skin-suit was Frank's idea, but Nikki and Tia had designed and developed it with Anna's help. Dyna optimized the design and supervised their construction.

"Yes, but how long can I wear it before I have to take it off and bathe?"

"You can wear it indefinitely. It does everything for you. As long as you wear it, you're clean."

"What about… bodily functions?"

"All taken care of, Frank. The skin-suit does everything, and it's virtually undetectable. You'll appear to have a very tough skin over your entire body. It also provides you with power assistance. You'll have four times your own strength. Remember this when you shake hands with someone."

Tia giggled.

"What about eating?"

"When you eat, the suit will look for microbes and poisons. If microbes are present, the suit will kill them, if poisons are present, you won't be able to put the food in your mouth. You'll be completely safe," Nikki continued.

"What about fire? Will it protect me from fire?"

"That depends on how hot the fire—"

"No, no, I mean gunfire."

"Oh, definitely, but we don't really know very much about their hand-held weapons. However, there is a limit to how much abuse the suit can take."

"Okay, Nikki. Thanks."

"One thing more, Frank."

"Yes?"

"We've analyzed their scanners. It's important to remember that as long as you're wearing the skin-suit, you can't be scanned. But if you remove it, they may be able to know what you're thinking. You mustn't take it off if you wish to keep our secrets."

"I'll remember that."

Later, the crew had a group discussion on the bridge, and after a while, it was decided that Frank and Anna would make landfall on the planet with Trong, Kong, Spydre, and Sprent as their escorts. Spydre and Sprent would remain in hidden compartments inside of Trong and Kong. It took a few hours for Nikki and Tia to modify the neutronium skinsuits with voice translators, but the three spacecraft "detaining" them seemed patient enough.

Heidi had some difficulty translating the number coordinates given them for making landfall and had to contact their "captors" again and get clearer instructions. After a while, she was fairly certain about where Frank and Anna were supposed to land their shuttle. Everyone except the command crew was in the shuttle bay to see them off. Frank had only seen the shuttle a few times, but rarely this close.

"This is big for a shuttle," he said to Anna, as they walked toward it. "When I first imagined building a starship, I imagined one about this large. But this is only a small craft inside of a much larger one."

The shuttle was three hundred and fifty meters long, easily ten times the size of the any one of the three alien spacecraft that now held them up. Frank was certain he could easily outrun or outgun them, but what would be the point, he thought. He came here to meet aliens and see their world, and that's what he was going to do. Frank and Anna stepped aboard the shuttle and settled into their seats as pilot and co-pilot. Trong and Kong were already aboard and fastened down.

"I forgot to ask about armament, does the shuttle have armament?"

"Of course, Frank," Anna answered, "but it only has defense shields and a lase cannon. Those two should be more than sufficient to handle anything we have to deal with right now."

"I sure hope so. Shuttle bay cleared, Dyna?" Frank asked as he scanned the external-view imagers.

"All clear, Frank," Dyna answered.

"Fire her up and let's go."

"Shuttle bay doors, Frank?" Anna reminded.

"Oh yeah."

The shuttle bay doors opened, the shuttle eased its way out and began a nose-dive for the planet surface. One of the three patrol craft broke away from the group and followed them.

The microset crackled as someone opened a channel.

"Frank, Heidi here. I've found out the name of this planet, it's called Iskol."

"Thanks, how'd you find that out?"

"It seems to translate that way."

"Dyna, are the coordinates locked in for where we're supposed to go?"

"Affirmative, Frank."

"Unlock the controls. I'd like to take a tour of this planet from the air."

"Compliance, Frank. Controls unlocked."

The controls were released and the shuttle began to drift. Quickly, Frank grabbed them and steered the shuttle down into the atmosphere.

"I don't know how to fly this thing, Anna."

"It's alright, Frank. It's very simple, have you ever piloted an airplane?"

"Yes."

"It's very much like that, except you can't stall it. And if you like, it can hover like a helicopter."

"Ah, okay. I don't think we'll have to worry about burn-up on re-entry either."

"No. Of course not—neutronium hull."

"Yes."

Frank was reminded of his old flying club days in college. But he had never piloted a machine like this! He nosed the big shuttle into the atmosphere and they saw the red flare of particle ionization in the forward windows, as they bored through the thick Iskolian atmosphere. These were neutronium windows, tuned to allow the passage of visible light. They passed through eight thousand meters and were closing fast on the ground when Frank finally pulled back on the stick and went into level flight.

"Do not deter from course." came a voice over the microset.

"What was that?" Frank looked at his imager and saw that the little patrol craft was following him.

"We wish to tour your planet before we land."

"Permission denied. You must return to original course."

"We only want to look around—sight-see. Give me fifteen minutes."

"Negative. Return to course."

"No."

The weapons console popped up between Frank and Anna, and the starship's computer made an announcement, "Defensive systems are activated."

"Why'd it do that," Frank asked.

"Apparently, we're being attacked," Anna said.

"I didn't feel anything."

"Maybe they didn't hit us very hard. Are you sure you still want to survey this planet?"

"If I'm going to be arrested, I want to have a look around first."

"But they'll continue their attack. Two more craft have joined the first one."

"That's okay, we just won't fight back unless we have to. Computer, damage report."

"No damage."

"Computer, arm laser, fire only at incoming torpedoes and missiles. Withhold fire from the attackers unless there is imminent danger to us. Also, warn me first, if possible."

"Compliance."

"The three patrol craft continued to fire on Frank's shuttle as he and Anna had a look at the lay of the land. Iskol was an industrial world, with light blue skies, and green parks below. Everywhere could be seen skyscrapers and industrial plants, along with places that seemed to be the homes of the Iskolians.

Frank made a fast sweep over an ocean and lost the, now twelve, Iskolian patrol craft that had been chasing him. Several had fired missiles, but the weapons computer disabled those with its laser.

They reached the second continent, and began receiving ground-fire from missile bases. The weapons computer was doing its job, so Frank slowed the shuttle to take in the view. Here, as on the other continent, was heavy industry mixed with occasional parklands. Iskol was a filled planet. Every inch of land on this world was used for something.

On the second continent, Frank saw farms, and he zoomed his imager to look more closely at these, seeing that machines worked the farms with people at their controls. How barbaric, he thought. The twelve patrol craft finally caught up with the shuttle and three more had joined them, but they no longer fired on him. They were hailing him.

"Please return to coordinates, emissaries await!"

"I didn't know the computer could translate panic," Frank said.

"Apparently, you've impressed them." Anna had taken all of this stolidly. She had also wanted to see this world from the sky, but would prefer to have done it with the Iskolians' blessings.

"Do you think they’re still going to arrest me?" Frank asked, grinning.

"They ought to. It's a wonder they haven't pulled out some secret weapon by now and blown us out of the sky."

"You're right. Maybe I’d better cooperate." Frank keyed a switch, "Okay friend, lead the way. I'll follow wherever you go."

"You're not going to use Dyna's coordinates?"

"Naw. Then the shuttle'll speed up and we'll miss everything. This way, we'll go a little slower."

The patrol craft moved in front of the shuttle and started on a new course heading. Frank steered the shuttle to follow. Frank and Anna watched as the little craft began to glow red.

"I think it's at top speed Anna. It's gonna blow up if it doesn't slow down. The heat of the atmosphere must be burning it up."

Shortly thereafter, another patrol craft appeared from below and took over the lead spot as the first craft slowed and descended.

"Follow me please," came from the second craft as it turned on a red flashing light for Frank and Anna to follow.

"Computer, assume flight controls and follow the craft with the red flashing light" Frank ordered.

"Compliance."

Frank released the controls and gazed at the imagers as the land and oceans below went past. Anna also watched her imagers and looked out the windows occasionally. As tourists went, they were typical. This went on for fifteen minutes until they arrived at, what Frank and Anna both agreed, was a spaceport. The shuttle landed itself at the original coordinates given.

Five

The spaceport was enormous and bustled with activity as Frank and Anna peered out their windows. Spacecraft bearing all manners of sizes and shapes sat around them. One or two ships landed or took off every few minutes. This was a busy shipping port. Small and large vehicles alike scurried about everywhere, and a few vehicles stopped near his shuttle, apparently waiting for him to emerge.

After a few minutes, they were hailed and asked if they required refueling, the question seeming to come from a vehicle sitting near them bearing resemblance to a tanker truck. Anna answered, declining. After another minute or so, a recording began listing off available services and their respective prices, including landing fees and rental charges, but was abruptly cut off.

"Emissaries await," Frank said, looking at Anna.

"I'm ready. Let's go."

"Trong and Kong."

"Sir?" Trong and Kong answered in unison, as they powered up and stepped out of their storage cubicles in a fluid motion. Their mirror-like neutronium armor gleamed and their marble-black eyes stared as they moved two steps in front of Frank and faced him. He felt pride in the robots' unintentional ability to seem menacing.

"All communications will be encrypted. Everything else will be standard procedure."

"Compliance," came over the microset.

"Follow and protect," Frank said to the two as he and Anna walked toward the shuttle doors. The shuttle door opened and they walked through the shimmering field that separated the two worlds.

"What is it?" Frank asked.

"Protection against intruders whenever the doors are open," Anna answered.

The four walked down the ramp together as Frank and Anna saw their first aliens. It was broad daylight outside and Frank's skin-suit quickly responded to the glare from the young and potent star. He observed six aliens waiting fifteen meters from the end of the ramp, and looked them over, glancing down at the ramp as he did so. The creatures were tall and thin, with large eyes on small, but skinny, long faces, which shown bluish white in the sunlight.

Frank was happy to see that they each had two arms and two legs. They were dressed in bright red garments that must have been dress uniforms.

Frank and Anna walked towards the party and stopped two meters from them. One of the aliens took a step forward, raised his six-fingered right hand, and spread his fingers out in a circle, each of his fingers evenly spaced apart.

"Welcome to Iskol," he said, "I am Lord Traaka of the Zembee Province in Loclyn. I've been directed to escort you to the Imperial Palace for introductions. I'll be your guide. We sincerely hope that our hospitality will please you." The creature's voice came in deep over the microset translator.

"I am Frank Jameson," he spoke the words, but they came out in another language, and this is Anna Kiruna. We come in peace and we most graciously and humbly accept your kind hospitality. Please accept our apologies for our discourtesies—we lack the knowledge of protocol on your world.

"Apologies noted and accepted. Please follow me."

Lord Traaka signed to the others in his group and they turned and walked toward the waiting vehicle. Four of the aliens entered the vehicle first while the other two held back waiting for Frank's group to enter. As Frank boarded the vehicle, he noticed that it floated in midair, bobbing up and down as people got in. Once everyone was inside, they were seated in bright red, plush chairs, and offered refreshments. Frank and Anna declined, but asked that the refreshments be given to Trong and Kong.

Frank told them over the microset, "Politely accept and analyze."

Trong and Kong both took the drinks and moments later they returned their analyses’. Frank had to reinstruct them after they finished their analyses, because after they explained the chemical makeup of the drinks, he still had no idea whether it was safe for Anna and him to drink them.

To this, Trong answered, "This is safe for human consumption, and would taste like a dry earth wine. It would also have a mildly intoxicating affect."

"This would be tasteless and odorless, and would kill an adult human in ten to fifteen seconds after consumption," Kong replied.

Frank and Anna made careful mental notes of which was which, and ordered two of what Trong was drinking. Frank had Trong check both of the drinks before he or Anna touched them.

The vehicle was moving rapidly across the ground at about three hundred kilometers an hour, but it was still sufficiently high up to get a good look at the surroundings. Apparently, they were getting the grand tour. Occasionally, the craft would slow down while Lord Traaka explained what things were.

"Please forgive this most forward question," Lord Traaka said, interrupting his own oratory, "I see that you have brought two machines with you. Would you be so kind as to explain?" he said, looking at Frank.

"Yes, they're our… protectors." Frank wondered if he had said the right thing. If the Iskolians were eventually to turn out unfriendly, they would surely know now that the two warbots would have to be disabled before they could get to him and Anna. But worse than that, he had sewn mistrust between himself and the Iskolians. If nothing else, he had been honest and that should count for something. By now, if there was an expression on the Lord's face, Frank did not know what it meant.

The trip to the Imperial Palace lasted forty minutes. Frank and Anna both dressed up for their first meeting with aliens, but neither was certain about what would be proper or impressive. Tia and Suni had spent a couple of hours designing what they had thought would be reasonable and decorative uniforms for Frank and Anna to wear. The hover-car stopped in front of the most incredible piece of architecture that Frank had ever seen. Nothing he remembered from Earth could even rival the beauty and expanse of what Lord Traaka described as the Imperial Palace. It was at least two hundred stories high, and two kilometers in diameter. He wondered why he had not seen it from the ground when he had done his fly-by. Lord Traaka was the first one out of the hover-car and waited as they evacuated it.

Apparently, it was protocol for Iskolians to introduce themselves, because Lord Traaka stepped to the side along with his five assistants, allowing another Iskolian group to meet with Frank and Anna. They stood on the steps of the Imperial Palace where another group of fifteen well-dressed Iskolians waited for them. The leader of the group stepped forward and introduced himself.

"I am Lord Wellum, Imperial Secretary and cousin of the Emperor of Iskol," he said haughtily, then somewhat dryly he added, "In the name of the mighty Emperor Deetknarl the Twenty-Second, I welcome you as his guests. Please follow me."

Frank introduced himself and Anna, but no more questions were asked of or about the two warbots, and most of the Iskolians kept their distance from them. Apparently, Lord Traaka had gotten a message through about the warbots, via some means beyond Frank's perception.

Lord Wellum spoke as they walked up the steps towards, and finally into the great palace.

"If there is anything that is not to your satisfaction, please let us know and we'll correct the situation immediately. Do you require separate apartments for yourselves or your servants?" Lord Wellum asked, as he eyed the two warbots.

"No, we don't, thank you," Frank answered.

Entering a great hall, Frank looked up to see the ceiling towering thirty meters above him. Its width was sixty meters, while its length was unguessable, but seemed to go on for quite a ways. Lord Traaka dismissed four of his aides and trailed along with one assistant. In the great hall, Frank gazed at the other people in the hall that were not of his group. Most of them were unquestionably Iskolian, but others dressed in a wide array of finery were undoubtedly from other worlds. He stared at them, and some of them stared back, each having never seen the likes of the other before.

Lord Wellum gave an oratory while they waited, and soon, another hover-car arrived which was large enough for the entire group. This car was nothing more than an opened-top platform upon which to stand. There were side rails around the perimeter of the platform that kept people from falling off the edge. Everyone got onto the big hover-car and shortly, they were three meters in the air, moving down the great hall. It came to an intersection of another great hall and turned. It continued down this hall and finally stopped moving forward, but then began rising. Frank looked up at the solid ceiling and worried that they were going to get crushed under it. But the Iskolians did not move or flinch. The hover car continued to rise slowly and the ceiling showed no signs of giving way. Frank started to get concerned and looked at Anna, who did not seem worried at all.

The car finally came up to the ceiling and continued to ascend through it.

Frank was relieved when he realized that the ceiling above them was a hologram. He looked around and noted that the Iskolians had been watching them.

"It was a test," Anna said to him over the microset, "they wanted to see if we're civilized."

The second floor hall was not quite as large as the first, but still large. They continued to rise above hall after hall, and Frank began taking note of something very odd. People were walking or moving along the halls of the higher floors, but not falling through. These floors and ceilings were undoubtedly more than just holograms.

They finally arrived and stopped at, what Frank guessed was forty floors up. Several of the Iskolian envoy were off the hover car before it landed itself on the plush, deep carpeting. It remained there as Frank and Anna were shown to their apartment. They walked into the room and Anna released a gasp as she looked around seeing the spaciousness and ornate beauty surrounding them. The ceiling, as in the hallway, was twenty meters high, and the room itself was twenty meters wide and forty meters long. The walls were decorated with curtains and holographic imagery of strange and exotic places. A large window dominated the far wall. Doors led to other rooms, and the furnishings seemed ideally suited to human needs.

"If it suits you, the Duke will meet you this evening at a formal dinner reception to begin discussing negotiations for formal contact of our respective governments and peoples," said Lord Wellum, "Lord Traaka will provide whatever assistance you require. Please, be at ease and make yourselves comfortable."

Lord Wellum left and took his troupe with him. Lord Traaka and his aide remained behind, and watched as Frank and Anna began 'investigating’ their suite. They both headed in different directions and their respective warbots followed but did not get in their way as they peered into rooms and corners, examining furniture and appliances. There were instructions for most everything mechanical, but they were written in a strange script that Frank was unable to read. He asked Lord Traaka about this.

"If you wish to know how a device works, simply touch it, and it will provide you with complete aural instructions of its use," he explained.

Frank tried this, placing his hand on a strange box sitting next to a large couch. At once the box began speaking to him. Then he removed his hand, and the box stopped talking. Since his microset translated, he understood everything the box said to him. Frank smiled at this and told Anna. Soon, they were both going around touching everything in the room. Lord Traaka watched this amusingly, but finally interrupted them.

"Do you require anything of me at the present time?"

"Yes, Lord Traaka, we do. We're not familiar with your customs and have need of instruction," Frank answered.

"I'll be happy to oblige. Please be seated, if that is more comfortable to you, and I'll discuss a few of our basic customs."

They spent the rest of the afternoon listening to Lord Traaka, as he went through a long discourse on the Iskolian rules of protocol and courtesy. Food and drinks were brought in for an afternoon snack, and Frank and Anna ate only after Trong and Kong tested the food that was offered. Later, Frank and Anna gazed out the large window as Lord Traaka explained what everything was. Frank realized, after a while, that no one as yet, had asked him a single thing about his home world or where he had come from. He asked Lord Traaka about this.

"It is not customary for me to ask those questions. It's my place to answer your questions. However, the Duke will ask many questions about you and your kind."

Later that evening, they were called to dine with the Duke. Lord Traaka and his aide escorted them and Lord Wellum returned with a smaller hovercar, and only two aides this time. They stepped onto the hover platform and it rose through many more floors of the palace. No one seemed to guide the hover platform as it wound its way through the halls. Frank could only guess how the platform knew its way. It finally came to rest in front of a large set of double doors that were six meters across ten meters high. Here, the ceiling was a thirty meters high, as on the first floor of the palace. They stepped off the hover platform and the giant doors opened widely.

"Your machines must remain here," Lord Wellum insisted.

"What?" Anna said. Frank saw concern on her face.

"It's okay, Anna," Frank said over the microset, "they'll be right outside the door, they can bust through if we need them."

"We'll comply," he said.

Frank gave Trong and Kong some quick orders and then he and Anna walked into the large reception room with their Iskolian escorts, leaving the two warbots behind. This room appeared to be two rooms rather than one; the first was obviously where emissaries, lords and ambassadors gathered to meet and socialize. Large windows adorned two walls of this room, while holographic images set them off. It was dark outside, and light filled the room from an indefinable source. Looking out the windows, Frank could see the lights of the city, but was still unable to pinpoint the source that illuminated the room.

A crowd of people had gathered in the center of the room and Lords Traaka and Wellum allowed Frank and Anna to lead the way. They approached the crowd and when they were four meters away they stopped. Frank stepped forward and held up his right hand while trying to make a circle with his fingers. Being unable to do so, he spread them as far apart as he could. The crowd he faced were garishly dressed Iskolians. They stared on as one of them stepped forward to greet him.

"I am Duke Tolrhash, nephew of the mighty Emperor Deetknarl of Iskol. I welcome you. Have you been treated well?"

"Very well, thank you," Frank answered, not knowing how the words 'thank you' would be translated.

"Excellent. Please join me for a drink and hors d'oeuvres'. Let us speak to one another." The Duke gestured and immediately, doors opened and odd-looking aliens came bursting forth, carrying trays of food and drinks. Shortly, there was much talking going on, as Iskolian Lords and Ladies surrounded Frank and Anna. Frank noticed that the new aliens carrying food and drinks served them but averted their eyes to avoid direct visual contact.

"Pardon me, your Excellency," Frank said, "some of your foods are poisonous to us, and we cannot eat or drink them."

"Yes, Frank Jameson, that has long been a problem for all races within the galactic community, and many a war has been started over dead ambassadors who ate the wrong thing. But we solved many of those problems long ago. We've been monitoring what you've been eating and not eating, and we're fairly certain now, which foods are safe for you. You won't be offered anything dangerous to eat."

"Yes, your Excellency." Frank had to trust the Duke and his skinsuit to keep deadly poisons from making their way into his body. Food and drink were offered to him and he accepted. As he ate and drank, he could feel the suit filtering everything through into his mouth, tickling his tongue as it did so.

"Now we must speak openly," the Duke began, "we haven't seen your kind before in this part of the galaxy, and on most known worlds, we know which races exist. But you and your people must come from much further away. We have rarely encountered a species with advanced technology such as yours. We're also curious about how you arrived here unseen?"

"Many of these things can be learned in time, your Excellency, but I must be straightforward in saying that I'm not an ambassador of my race. Please accept my deepest regrets also, that I cannot inform you of the location of my home world, for, in my own opinion, my people are not ready to meet yours."

"Your apology is accepted, Frank Jameson. But what knowledge brings you to this conclusion?"

"Knowledge of my own race, your Excellency. My people are a violent kind, and yours wouldn't fare well among us. But please have patience. There is great hope for my kind, and perhaps someday, we'll come to you as a more civilized and kindly race." Frank was aware that this was not entirely true, and knew now that mankind would have to be able to exercise some violence in order to survive in this universe. And he would, under no circumstances, reveal the location of Earth to these people.

"Well spoken, Frank Jameson, but I'm uncertain why you're here if this is so? If your people represent such a threat to the galactic social structure, then why do you risk their having knowledge of this place?"

"I don't. My people don't know of my trek here, and it's unlikely they'll know of it for a very long time."

"But still, why are you here? Why have you chosen this world to show yourself, and how did you get this far without being detected?"

"I'm an explorer. I've come to see the galaxy and visit places unknown to my kind and me. But I'm not certain what you mean when you say 'undetected'."

"Few starships enter the central community of the inner galaxy without passing through the dust clouds that guard our presence. The trail left by an unknown starship doesn't go unnoticed. Why, Frank Jameson, do you remind me of a child from a farm, come to the city, to see what it's like?"

"Perhaps, your Excellency, because I am," he replied with a grin.

The duke expelled what Frank assumed was the Iskolian version of a good laugh. Up until now, Frank wondered if the Iskolians were able to laugh.

"And now, Explorer Frank Jameson, what've you discovered? It's strange to me that an explorer on a scientific mission would come to us so well armed."

"Had I not been so well armed, your Excellency, where would I be this moment?"

The Duke burst out laughing as he said between guffaws, "In jail, of course! And point taken. Please join me for dinner Well-Armed Explorer Frank Jameson," he said, as his laughter died down.

"I would be delighted, your Excellency."

They seated themselves at the dinner table in a room adjoining the reception area. Frank and Anna looked over the table that had been laid out before them. There were no forks or spoons available, but there were similar accessories. Knives seemed to be a galactic norm, for there were plenty, and of many sizes and shapes. The same strange furry alien beasts that brought drinks and hors d’oeuvres’ brought in the food. Again, they averted their eyes to avoid direct visual contact, even as he attempted to force them to look at him.

As promised, the food was not poisonous, and nothing he was offered was turned away by his skinsuit. Frank could tell whether his food was vegetable or fruit, and when it was meat. But either way, he found everything given him to his liking. Nor was he offered too much. The servant seemed able to sense when he had had his fill. After the meal, Frank quizzed the Duke about the servants.

"They're not servants. They're slaves of the great house of the Emperor. These are special slaves—these are the brightest and strongest—bred for service under the Emperor himself—my uncle," the Duke responded.

Frank was abhorrent about the entire situation. The Duke saw the grimace that crossed Frank’s face.

"Does something bother you? Is it the food? I'll have the cooks flogged!"

"No, no, nothing’s wrong. The food is fine."

"Then what is it, Frank Jameson?"

Frank paused for a moment, then said, "Nothing."

The Duke eyed him closely, and could tell he was not being completely honest.

"In your world, Frank Jameson, there are slaves?"

"If there are, your Excellency, then I don't know of them. The people of our world abandoned and outlawed slavery only recently in our history."

The Duke at once realized what had stuck in Frank's throat. "Yes," he said, "in the galactic community, there are races that frown on slavery—call it cruelty—and denounce it as savagery and barbarism. And occasionally, they even foster and support slave uprisings. There have been many wars over this very thing, but only rarely does one succeed. How do you feel about slavery, Frank Jameson?"

Frank realized now that he was being asked to choose sides on the issue.

"For my part, I won't be a participant, but I choose not to interfere in the affairs of other worlds. It isn't my business to set moral standards for others." Frank said this sincerely, but realized deep down inside, that he had just lied.

"Again, well spoken." But the Duke eyed him closely. Frank was certain, by now, if the Duke thought he could get away with it, he would turn Frank and his ship into space dust this very moment.

Six

The party continued for several hours. Frank and Anna were both worn from the barrage of questions, many of which had to go unanswered. The Iskolians seemed to enjoy the talkative affair, while Frank was just happy that his skinsuit was keeping him company. He finally approached Lord Traaka on the subject of leaving the party.

"Since you're the guests of honor, it is customary for you to remain until the last guest leaves," Lord Traaka replied.

Frank looked around the room and saw thirty or so people still there. Lord Traaka seemed to understand the question in Frank's mind, because he answered it before Frank could ask it.

"Only Lord Occoro's party remains, they'll leave shortly and you shall be relieved," he said.

"Oh, thank you."

The party busted up a little while later and Frank and Anna went back to their suite to rest. They found beds to sleep in, but were unable to sleep right way, so they talked for a while, and then settled down for a restless night. Trong and Kong stood vigil. Before sleeping, Frank contacted the ship to check on everything. Michelle was at the helm.

"We're right where you left us, Frank. The patrol craft have moved around a little bit and been replaced once, but they won't even let us make orbit. We've been watching everything from up here. Don't let them coax you too far away from Trong and Kong. Be careful. We love you."

"I'll be very careful, Michelle, give everyone my love. Got to get some sleep, bye."

"Bye."

When Frank awoke the next morning, he saw Anna, deeply immersed in some device, studying it carefully. The room was still dark, but not completely, as though the light in the room was subdued. She heard him stirring and turned to him.

"Good morning, Frank. Windows, daylight," she ordered, and the darkness of the room faded away as daylight slowly flooded the room.

"Neat windows," he said, as he realized he had slept through the morning.

"Breakfast?" Anna asked. "I've been learning how to work these gadgets. I think I can get you some eggs and ham."

"That would hit the spot. I'm starved." He got up feeling dizzy and light-headed, and then remembered he had been drinking the night before. He eased himself out of bed, and in a few minutes, Anna had set ham and eggs at his breakfast table.

"This is incredible. How did you do this?"

"That's a secret," she said, "I spoke with Suni this morning. She said she would try and arrange for vitamin and mineral supplements to be sent down. This food looks and tastes like our own, but it's missing a lot of things we need to stay alive."

"Okay," Frank said, as he ate, "Hey, this tastes just like the real thing. My complements to the chef."

"Thank you."

"What about you, aren't you gonna eat?"

"I've already eaten."

Frank finished breakfast and later, while he and Anna were playing with more of the gadgets, Lord Traaka came to their suite. Frank suspected then that they'd been watched during the night, if for no other reason than to know when they would be prepared for the day's activities.

"Greetings," he said, "Pardon my intrusion, but I've been instructed to inform you there'll be another formal reception tomorrow evening. Your presence is kindly requested. Many ambassadors and emissaries will be in attendance, and the emperor himself will be there."

"We'll be happy to attend the reception," Frank said.

"Very good. Meanwhile, I shall be your guide to Iskol. Do you wish to remain here, or would you prefer a tour of the city today?"

Frank and Anna both opted for the guided tour. After breakfast and their morning rituals, a hover-car awaited them in the hall, as usual, and carried them to the outside world. There, another hover-car, this one closed-top, also awaited them. From there, they spent the day visiting farms, factories, zoos, administration buildings, suburbs, parks, and all manner of geological sites, and attended a session on the history of Iskol and the known galactic community.

They listened intently as the historian proceeded through his lecture, "Recorded history in the galaxy only dates back fifteen million years, this being one of the side effects of war. Occasionally great wars break out in the galaxy, and sometimes, entire planets and even solar systems are wiped out, along with their histories, some of those histories being lost forever. But many have been saved, and this holds with the fact that even the oldest known races have recorded histories of less than a million years. Rarely does a race last much longer."

Later that day, they attended another session on galactic politics. This lecturer explained how their own political system worked, "There are about sixteen thousand known star-faring races in the galaxy, but because so often, races are dropping in or out, there is no central governing agency or means for coming to a collective agreement on galactic law. But this is also due to the diversity of races and the time and distances involved. Basically, there is one law in the galaxy; take care of yourself. By far, the most common agreements between worlds are trade agreements with other local planets, typically not more than two or three years traveling distance away. This translates to a thousand light-years away at the most."

The lecturer continued, "Unfortunately, worlds of people who have nothing to trade, no defenders, and are unable to defend themselves, often become slaves. It is typical for most races starting out near the center of the galaxy, its most populated area, to begin their place in the galactic community as slave worlds. Only in the outer reaches of the galaxy, where it is less populated, does a race have a chance to avoid slavery while its people evolve. There are advantages for a race to go through a slave period. We Iskolians were once a slave race ourselves, until we were freed about twenty thousand years ago. That race vanished six thousand years ago, but we now have many local allies, and have nothing to fear from other races."

Frank and Anna were taking all this in, as were the crew aboard the Butterworth. Frank began to realize his place in the galaxy. His life on the galactic scale would be nothing more the flutter in the wind of a leaf in the forest. He also realized that within a hundred years or less, knowledge of humanity on his home world Earth, would be recorded at the center of the galaxy and suspected that humanity was sealing its doom as a slave race by sending out so much radio traffic.

When the day was over, Frank and Anna returned to the Imperial Palace and were allowed to rest that evening. They found entertainment in the form of holographic television shows and movies, complete with news and commercials. Frank sat back during the show and acknowledged to himself that this day had probably been the greatest learning experience of his life. He wondered why the Iskolians had such a great interest in him. They obviously knew that he had come from a great distance—much further than they could easily reach. So as a trader, he had little to offer them. But he had successfully defied them when ordered to do something he had not wanted to do, and that single act had changed his status from common criminal to guest of the emperor. In a rush, it became perfectly clear exactly what they wanted from him, his technology—his most grave secrets. As a person, or even as a representative of his race, he realized, they had no interest in him. They were more interested in survival in a dangerous universe.

The next day, Frank and Anna were allowed to sleep in again, and the day started late. Frank checked in with Suni, and found everything in the ship fine. Lord Traaka came by in the afternoon and reminded them about the reception that evening, but did not stay long and did not suggest any more tours. They were both glad of this because they weren't sure they were up to running around all day, and then partying all night.

That evening, as before, both Lords Traaka and Wellum arrived and escorted Frank and Anna to the reception. Trong and Kong were left at the door as expected. This reception room was the same height as the other one, but easily twice as large. There were also about three times as many people there. Most of the people were Iskolian, some of them were of the slave race Frank had seen earlier, but many, he did not recognize at all. These others were aliens of many different sizes, shapes, and colors, and wore even more garish clothing than the Iskolians. Some of them wore drab, almost colorless clothing. Lords Traaka and Wellum escorted Frank and Anna into the room and shortly afterwards, dissipated into the crowd.

The Emperor of Iskol introduced himself to Frank and Anna, and asked many of the same questions the Duke had asked, and received the same answers. By the end of the evening, every alien in the room had spoken with or interviewed him. Some spoke about their home worlds. All had questions about him and his world. Most of the questions he answered, but some he had to turn away as far too sensitive for his liking. Frank also asked questions of the aliens and, for the most part, received direct answers. Frank ran through the gamut of political skills with the aliens. Some were very abrupt and forward while others were distinctively polite and unobtrusive. The majority ranged somewhere in between.

Dinner was uneventful, except for the fact that Frank was having prime rib. Anna had ordered up dinner for them prior to leaving the suite. Frank was amazed at how closely it matched the real thing. He might have even enjoyed eating it had he not been watching what the others were eating. From that day forward, Frank made it a rule to avoid eating with aliens whenever possible. But when it was unavoidable, never look at what they're eating.

All in all, the evening was educational for him. He had learned that all the aliens present were ambassadors or emissaries from planets that had trade agreements with the Iskolians. Some were members of the local peace alliance, or war alliance when Frank figured it. Oddly enough, this was where he learned about the limitations of space travel for these races. He had been talking with the ambassador from Eldews, and put the question to him.

"There is no secret about how to accomplish faster-then-light space travel," he said, "The hard part is to go much faster than that. There is a material called Vulaxium, which exhibits very odd properties that tend to distort space and time around it, to the extent that, when made into the hull of a spacecraft, allows the entire starship to 'slip' beyond the speed of light. And Vulaxium can be easily manufactured almost anywhere. The one drawback is that, once the velocity of light is exceeded, constant power is required to maintain velocity. And the faster a ship goes, the more power it requires to gain and keep that velocity."

"We've seen your starships," Frank said, "and have measured their velocities to be about two or three hundred times the speed of light."

"That is correct. There is no limit to how fast a starship may travel, other than its own propulsion system and fuel supply. The fastest starship ever built traveled three hundred and seventy-six times the speed of light. It's fuel supply lasted only a few moments, it had one passenger, and it wasted enough fuel to last a hundred years on a cargo vessel traveling half that velocity. It was a great feat… and a monumental failure."

"There are none that can travel faster?" Frank asked, innocently.

"There are old legends—old tales of the Shadow Ships. Such tales are older than most races. They tell stories of great and terrible wars between powerful enemies with ships of terrible power, capable of enormous velocities. It was said that the masters of the Shadow Ships, called Shadow Riders, had mastered time itself, and could travel from one end of the galaxy to the other in only moments. But those are old stories that no one believes today."

Frank looked around and noticed one of the slaves, looked away, and looked back realizing that the slave was not only staring at him, but also making direct eye contact. For a moment, they locked gazes and then the slave, comprehending its situation, looked down to avoid eye contact altogether. Frank looked back at the ambassador, who seemed to miss the entire exchange.

"Do you have slaves on your world?" Frank asked.

"That's an odd question. The answer is no, of course. We don't believe in slavery, but we tolerate it among our allies and business associates. What about your world, do your people have slaves?"

Frank found himself liking this ambassador, "Long ago, my people engaged in the practice of slavery. It is an ugly part of our history. Nowadays, it is illegal among all of my people to have slaves. In my world, it's been abolished."

"Very strange indeed. You are the great mystery, Frank Jameson—you and your starship, which came from nowhere. When we are children, our parents scare us with tales of the Shadow Ships, but we don't know if we should fear you instead."

"Fear me? You've nothing to fear from me… as long as I'm left in peace."

"Yes, but how is 'peace' defined for you. Perhaps your idea of peace isn't the same as ours."

"Perhaps. But so far I've had no reason to be at war with anyone."

"My friend… you are the war. Most of us are just trying to figure out which side to be on. You may not realize it, but your presence here, with your strange and impregnable ship, those lethal bodyguards you keep, your odd clothing—and I don't mean your outer garments—and everything else about you carry the signets of war. It's a war this galaxy's been expecting for ten thousand years. We've been waiting for you, Frank Jameson… whoever you are."

"I don't understand. Why me?

"You are news. And news about you is spreading fast. We know this much; the Ruunda are coming here. They are powerful and ruthless. You're here now, but we don't know what you want."

"I don't want anything. And I don't think I'm going to cause anyone problems. I'm just an explorer."

"Yes, but would you stand up to the Ruunda?"

"Why would I want to?"

"To keep them from having what you have… your technology. And if they can't get it they'll seek to destroy you. Why do you suppose the Emperor keeps you happy this way? Even I must rent a room as a permanent guest ambassador. How many of your expenses have you paid?"

"None."

"I know."

Frank sensed a terror among these people. Who were the 'Ruunda'? And if they were so powerful, why would they want his technology? The ambassador had nothing to lose by telling Frank this, and everything to gain. Possibly even an ally. Frank tried to play down his own capabilities. "I think you see more in me than there really is."

"Do I?" The ambassador's gaze bored through him. "When you go looking for allies, Frank Jameson, look for me and my people." The ambassador handed him a crystal clear disk about the size of a penny, which Frank accepted and slid into his pocket. "This shows how to find my world. The fastest liners can get there from here in forty days. I imagine you could be there much sooner."

Seven

The two Relmish slaves, Sahn and Panc, had seen the mysterious alien, who had come from an unknown world. The younger female, Sahn, had been foolish and touched eyes with him, and was presently being rebuked for doing so.

"I should thrash you this moment! It's a capital crime, what you've done," Panc cried, "You're lucky to be alive."

"But father, he's the one, I saw him! And he didn't turn me in."

"He probably didn't know any better. You must never do that and you must never speak of this again."

"But Father…"

"Never!"

~

Frank and Anna had been on Iskol a week now and were fairly certain that it was safe to bring down more members of the crew. Also, they were ready to shed their skinsuits and wanted some time aboard the Butterworth. After some discussion with Lords Traaka and Wellum, the shuttle returned to the ship and came back with four more visitors.

Frank and Anna remained landside waiting for the shuttle to return, in order to allay fears that they might board the ship and take off—never to be heard from again. Maria, Heidi, Michelle, and Sandy landed at the spaceport with one escort apiece. These were, undoubtedly, warbots. Before leaving the ship, they were briefed on what they could say, or, more specifically, what they could not say. They all understood the gravity of the situation; Earth had to be protected at all costs—including their lives. Dyna was given strict orders regarding this.

Frank and Anna greeted the newcomers with hugs and kisses, though through the skin suits, very little could be felt. All the more reason, Frank thought, to get out of the skin suit. He yearned for the touch of another human being. He explained a few of the more important customs to the four women, and then he, Anna, Trong and Kong went to the shuttle for the return trip to the Butterworth. As they approached the entrance to the shuttle, the computer talked to them over their microsets.

"Please enter slowly, and wait in the boarding compartment until sterilization is complete."

Anna was the first to step through the shimmering at the doorway of the shuttle. Frank watched the sparks and sparkles bursting around her on the surface of her skin suit. She stopped in the boarding compartment, and waited. Frank was next, and Anna watched as he came through. Then Trong and Kong came through and the outer shuttle door closed and sealed itself.

"Beginning sterilization and identity verification," the computer said.

Twenty seconds later the computer spoke again, "Identities verified, two authorized crewmembers and two authorized warbots. Please remove skinsuits and enter."

Frank and Anna both had to strip down nude in order to remove their skinsuits. The fact that the skinsuits were virtually transparent and worn with no clothes beneath did not make it very easy for Frank to hide his obvious pleasure with Anna's bare form. Their skinsuits lay on the floor of the boarding compartment, and at once Frank felt relief at being able to touch his own skin again. He was surprised that the skin suit had, indeed, kept him clean, as promised. The inner access door opened, and all four walked into the lavish interior of the shuttle.

"Trong and Kong; storage," Frank ordered, "computer; destination, Butterworth."

"Compliance," the computer answered.

Frank looked at Anna and she looked back, "Shower?"

"Shower." They both headed for the shower compartment of the shuttle.

"Computer," Anna amended, "take two and a half hours getting there."

"Compliance."

"What?" Frank said, confused.

"I've been waiting all week for this. Seeing you without being able to touch you is driving me crazy. I'm going to seduce you now, I can't wait any longer."

They were in the small shower stall long enough to start getting erotic. They dried off quickly and headed for the bedroom aboard the shuttle. They spent about the next two hours touching, holding, and making love.

Aboard the Butterworth, Suni and Paddy were on the bridge.

"I don't understand this," Paddy said, looking up from her imager, "they've programmed the shuttle for a two and a half hour trip when they could be here in minutes."

Suni thought for a moment, then said, "They've been together for a week now, wearing those skinsuits…"

"Ahhh," they said together, grinning.

A while later, Frank and Anna were aboard the Butterworth having a good old-fashioned home cooked meal.

~

A slave's life in the Imperial Palace was one of prestige, luxury, and terror. On the one hand, the slaves of the Imperial Palace were expected to perform their duties flawlessly, and without hesitation, and so, worked much less than ordinary slaves and got more 'freetime'. Their living quarters were much nicer and they were kept in better health. On the other hand, ordinary citizens couldn't order their slaves to be put to death—at least, not without a formal court hearing—and a legitimate crime. Only the Emperor could put a slave to death. And he did so often enough to keep most of his slaves on their toes.

Slave rights had evolved considerably over the last two thousand years. A slave who retired now after many hard years of loyal service could expect to return to his home world with a small stipend, and live out the remainder of his days in relative freedom. An owner who especially liked a retiring slave may have elected to give the slave a bonus at retirement also, but the trip home and the stipend were a matter of law.

The slaves of the Imperial Palace were a little better off. Because the Emperor expected his slaves to be strong and healthy, they retired much earlier than those of ordinary citizens. They were also prone to receive handsome bonuses upon leaving—particularly if their service was very good.

Even so, the Emperor had a short temper, and would occasionally wound and cripple or kill a slave out of anger. Often, the slave had done nothing wrong to incite such anger, and typically, the infraction could be traced to some erring bureaucrat. But fair was fair. Great dangers earned great rewards.

There were several slave races on Iskol, but the most common were the Relmish. On Relm, the people usually lived in villages of family groups, where parents raised their own children. The Relmish were strong but gentle, hirsute creatures, of good intelligence and few wars.

The two Relmish slaves, Sahn and Panc were Imperial slaves. Panc had taken a mate during his tenure in the Imperial Palace. She had been injured by the Emperor in one of his rages, and later died as a result. Sahn had known neither her mother nor her home world, and for this, carried a bitter hatred within her. Panc was older and wiser, and hid his bitterness, to the extent that his record of service had been outstanding. He would retire soon and be handsomely rewarded for his service.

Yet he was distraught at seeing his own child grow up so rebellious and disobedient. He and other slaves had covered up or taken blame for her actions so many times now that almost all were ready to let her take her punishments and be done with her. Maybe she would survive—and learn—and maybe she would not. Sahn often made trips to the lower cities, against her father's wishes, to see her friends. Panc tried to persuade her to spend more time with the other children of the Imperial slaves. But she always complained they were too stuffy and closed-minded.

This evening was no different. The same polite request with the same warning would go unheard and unheeded. Panc was in his favorite chair enjoying a holographic movie, and Sahn was preparing for another wild night out on the town with her 'unruly' friends from the lower city.

"Those children will take you into trouble Sahn." Panc looked up from his program.

"We're not children anymore, Father, we're adults now."

"If only you were, child, if only you were. You haven't visited Lok for a while, why don't you see him. He's been asking after you, and you're never around."

"Lok's a…" she did not say it. She wanted to say Lok was a toe-sucking Iskolian lover, because he was so 'obedient' and 'good' around his masters, "I just don't care for him very much. He displeases me."

"So I've heard. But perhaps you should try harder to like him. You should go see him."

Sahn grimaced, "He is the last person I'd want to go see Father. See you," she said, heading for the door apartment.

"Please… exercise discretion, Sahn."

"Yes, Father. Bye." she left.

It was too early for the underground slave trams to be crowded. But this was one of the advantages of being an Imperial slave. She could leave much earlier and get ahead of the crowds of other slaves that would soon inundate the trams. Citizen transport, above ground, was never crowded, but in a little while, this slave tram would be packed so tightly that just getting into it would be a thing of luck.

Slaves weren't allowed to be aboveground unless they had a pass with specific instructions showing what they were doing and why. Slaves were given their own currency, with which they could barter and trade (they weren't allowed to use citizen currency), and she had a few credits with her. She hopped off at the underground slave entertainment center, and headed for their favorite rendezvous. Her friends would meet her there in a little while. They would only now be getting into their freetime.

After a while, Truuk and Kima showed up. These two were male and female, and had plans to join as mates when they were older. Meanwhile, they dated and were usually seen together. They had different owners. Truuk's owner was of a much higher class and had many slaves. Kima's owners were poorer and had only three, which were Kima and her parents.

Slaves were allowed to work for extra slave currency, but had to do this in their freetime and the amount of time they could work was limited. Imperial slaves, however, were not allowed to work during freetime, because they had to be fresh and rested at all times so they could perform their intricate duties faultlessly. They were compensated for this by receiving regular payments of slave credits, which they could spend however they chose.

Sahn hailed her friends as they searched her out. "Hey! Over here."

They saw her waving and went to her, "Hi Sahn," Kima said.

"Hi. Have you seen Pac and Gaf yet?"

"We saw them at the tram pick-up, but they didn't make it into the tram because it was too crowded. They'll probably be along on the next one," Truuk answered.

"Too bad. What've you two been up to?"

"Nothing much. Did you know Gaf's uncle was arrested?" Kima asked.

"No, what happened?"

"He was caught in the upper city without a pass."

"Oooh nooo. Why did he go up there?"

"Well, I'm not supposed to say, but… I think he's in a, well… you know."

"Know what?"

Kima leaned over and whispered into Sahn's ear, and Sahn backed away agape.

"Nooo. Really?"

"Yes. And I heard there was a big shake-up in the Imperial Palace last week. It's been going on all week, I can't believe you haven't heard. Some big-shot unknown off-worlder barged right into Iskolian territory. They tried to arrest him and they couldn't. He was too powerful."

"No. Wait! I know who you're talking about. Uunta forgive me, I looked right into his eyes."

"You did not!"

"Quiet! There could be Listeners. You could be executed for that! In the Imperial Palace? How could you take such a chance?"

"I couldn't help myself."

"Did he notice it?"

"He looked right back at me."

"And you're alive to tell about it? Sahn, you must be out of your mind."

"I know, but don't you ever dream about the old stories?"

"Which ones?"

"AAAAHG!"

"EEEEK! Hey you guys! Don't scare me that way."

Pac and Gaf had gotten off the tram and sneaked up behind them as they talked.

"You wouldn't have jumped if you weren't talking about bad things."

"How would you know what we were talking about?" Kima said, playfully.

"We're Listeners," Gaf said, also playfully, as he made his face look wicked.

"Uh huh, sure you are." they laughed. "Oh, I'm sorry about your uncle."

"Yeah, they tell me he'll live, but he'll be in the pen for a while, recuperating. They gave him sixty lashes."

"Oooh," Sahn and Kima said together.

"Hey, there's Gelk. Over here!"

Gelk was Sahn's latest male friend. She watched as he proudly strode over and touched noses with her.

"Hi Gelk," she said, subdued.

"Hi Sweet," he said, looking down at her as they held hands and faced each other.

"Okay, love-children, break it up," Pac said, patting Gelk on the back.

The whole group was together now and they walked away from the small eatery where they'd been waiting. They decided to go to a music bar where Relmish music was played. Relmish music was peculiar in that, all Relmish songs told stories. Some of it could be danced to, but most of it was simply for pleasurably listening to stories. They went into the music bar and managed to find a table even though the place was crowded.

"Heard about your uncle," Gelk said to Gaf, "I'm sorry."

"He'll live. He won't feel too good for a while, but he'll live."

"Sahn claims that she saw the off-worlder—said she looked right in his eyes," Kima interrupted.

"Sahn!" Gelk exclaimed, looking at her, "Tell me you're not that foolish."

"Sorry, Gelk. I tried not to, but something held me, I couldn't look away."

"Sahn, you were going to tell us about those stories, before we were rudely interrupted," Kima said as she glanced over at Pac and Gaf, who were both grinning.

"What stories?"

"You know—the ones you were dreaming about."

"Oh, I meant daydreams. But I'm talking about the story of the off-worlder who comes and makes the Iskolians free all the slaves."

"Those aren't stories, those are true," Gaf interrupted, "My uncle says so. He came from the home world, and he would know."

"Then why would your uncle get arrested if he knew so much?" Pac said.

"Because he thinks the off-worlder is the One."

"What one?"

"The Chosen One. The one who's going to free us. Haven't you ever heard of Gronk?"

"He's not real, he's just a story," Truuk said.

"No. My uncle says he's as real as you and me. He says there really is a High Shaman of Relm, and he's seen him. But my uncle says, according to Gronk, the time for the freedom of Relm and all the Relmish people is near, and the Chosen One is on the way."

"Now I think you're the one who's dreaming," Sahn replied "The only way we're going to be free is by outsmarting the Iskolians and earning our freedom."

"My uncle says, when the time comes, we'll all have to fight. The Chosen One won't be able to do it by himself."

"Okay, fine. You go up there and fight. We’ll watch," Kima said, pointing to the surface. "We want to see how long you'll last against the Iskolian patrollers."

"I will," Gaf said, defiantly, and half playfully. "You mean now?"

"Sure."

"Well… nothing's ready yet, we have to wait for everyone to get started."

"You're afraid."

"I'm not afraid."

"Then do it."

The interplay between Kima and Gaf worried the others in the group. No one was quite certain what the whole playful conversation was leading up to, but it was beginning to get serious.

"Let's go," Gaf said, getting up from his seat.

"Okay, let's go," Kima said, "Come on everyone, Gaf is going to set us all free."

They got up and headed for the exit.

"I just hope Gaf doesn't get us all killed," Truuk said.

They walked through the crowd in the entertainment area, and hopped on the tram. The crowding had eased since they'd left it, so it was not difficult to get on. They stayed on through three terminals until the tram was relatively emptied of passengers. At the fourth terminal, Gaf hopped out and they followed him. There were other slaves in the terminal, but they paid little attention to the young slaves as they passed through. Gaf turned down darkened access tunnels and passed rooms with machines of unknown purpose inside them.

"This way," Gaf said.

"Where are we going, Gaf?" Sahn asked, worrisomely, and almost excitedly.

"To fight our way to freedom," he said, exuberantly.

They walked through halls and endless corridors, which soon became mazes to everyone except Gaf, who seemed to know where he was going. Then they walked up some stairs and through some more hallways, in what seemed like an endless expedition. When they finally stopped, they were surrounded by darkness.

"Where are we?" Sahn asked.

"We're on the surface."

"Wha—"

"Sssssh."

"We're on the surface?" Kima asked in a whisper.

"Uh huh," Gaf answered.

"I knew it," Truuk said, "he is going to get us killed."

"Don't worry. I've been here lots of times. It's where I come to be alone. This is a citizen park, but they hardly ever come here. Come on, let's sit down a while. You can see the stars from here. And if you look over there, you can see starships coming and going… going to other worlds… going to freedom."

They found a spot in the middle of the park near the access tunnel they had used. Trees and bushes surrounded them, so they felt a little safe from roaming eyes. But the sky peered down at them and did not ease their discomfort. They gathered in a circle and sat down in the turf.

"You can see stars?" Kima asked.

"Look up there," Gaf said, pointing to the sky. "Those little lights in the sky."

"Ooooooo," Sahn and Kima said, as they gazed up at the multi-colored points of light in the night sky.

"Tell us the story of the Chosen One," Kima asked.

"My uncle says that he'll come from far away—so far that no one will know where he came from. And he'll have great power, and be able to converse with the great god Uunta himself."

"No one can talk with Uunta." Sahn interrupted.

"Yes, my uncle says the great Shaman Gronk can converse with him easily."

"Well, if he can talk with Uunta, then why doesn't he ask Uunta to free us?"

"He has, and Uunta is sending the Chosen One to help us."

"Tell us about the Chosen One," Sahn asked, "how'll we know him?"

"My uncle says that Gronk has made an image of his likeness. Some have seen the image, and my uncle is one of those. He says he'll never forget it. He's even made a drawing of it and keeps it in his sleeproom. You say you've seen the off-worlder?"

"Yes. I looked straight at him. I'll never forget that. I felt mesmerized."

"Then we should show you the image, to see if he's the one."

"You're scaring me now," Sahn said.

"HEY! Who's over there?" The voice came from beyond the tree and bushes. "SLAVES!"

"Run!" They got up and ran for the tunnel entrance.

"HOLD! Stand where you are!"

"Keep going!" Gaf said from the rear.

They could hear the patroller cursing as he fiddled with his slavestinger. Apparently it was not working properly, and they had a chance now. Sahn led the group in a fierce run for the tunnel entrance, but the patroller chased them. Gelk was behind Sahn and Kima was behind Gelk, but ahead of Truuk. Pac was next and Gaf trailed. Sahn reached the tunnel, ran inside and flew down the stairs. She heard Gelk tromping right behind her, and more feet behind him.

"Wait! Wait, where's Gaf," it was Pac. "He got Gaf!"

"Go back!" Kima said.

"No! We can't. Then they'll get us."

"They'll get us anyway if they get him!"

They heard footsteps coming down the stairs. For a moment, their hearts stopped.

"What are you waiting for? RUN!!" It was Gaf.

"But what about the patroller?"

"He's coming, run!"

They ran, because their lives depended on it. Gaf's uncle had survived sixty lashes, but Sahn knew she would not be so lucky. She was an Imperial slave, and subject to a more rigid code than the others.

Gaf led the way in their mad dash for life, down hallways, into stairwells, and down more hallways, the maze seemed to go on forever. Finally they stopped.

"We have to split-up now," Gaf said, wheezing, "You two go that way." He pointed down a dark hallway, and was looking at Sahn and Gelk, "Go to the third corridor on the left and turn. Slow down when you get there. There'll be other people so don't walk in breathing hard, or they'll know you've been running."

"Meet next time, same place?" Gelk asked.

"If we're still alive," Gaf answered.

Sahn and Gelk ran in the direction Gaf ordered. After a while they came to a tram terminal. People were there and they caught themselves before running into the terminal area. They backed into the hallway gasping for breath. After a while, their heavy breathing slowed, and they walked calmly into the terminal. A tram was just loading and they got on it. As it turned out, they would have to exit this tram at another terminal, and catch another tram to get back to their respective homes.

They said nothing to each other, but stood there looking at the slaves around them to see if anyone noticed the guilt that they wore. Also they wondered about the others. But especially now, Sahn wondered about the patroller. Now that she thought back to the run down the stairs, she remembered a scuffle, which she had not remembered before.

They got off at the next terminal. Gelk's tram arrived first.

"Next time, same place," he said.

"See you there." They rubbed noses and separated.

The tram left, carrying him away. She stood there, dazed at the realization that she had foolishly and blatantly risked her life. Her mind buzzed with excitement and dread. But this was not the first time she had taken unnecessary chances. If she kept this up, she knew she would not live very long. Her tram arrived and she boarded it. As the tram moved toward its destination, she daydreamed, wishing the old stories of the Chosen One were true, and she doubly wished that the off-worlder were he. She wondered what it would be like to run free in the forests of Relm.

"Imperial Palace," the tram computer announced, "pass required."

She stepped off of the tram and it left. She headed for the lower entrance to the Imperial Palace, and began fumbling for her pass. In a panic she began searching herself.

"Uunta, spare me, I hope I didn't drop it there," she mumbled to herself, remembering the incident in the park.

She was relieved as she found it—exactly where she had hidden it.

She returned to her father's apartment. He was where she had seen him last, watching his holographic programs. She calmly walked past him into her own room. Other slaves did not have their own rooms, she thought.

"Everything alright, Sahn?" her father asked.

"Yes, Father, we had a very good time," she did not feel convincing.

"Stayed out of trouble, I hope."

"Of course," she lied, "Good night, Father."

"Good night."

Eight

Frank had no doubt that every moment he had spent on the planet had been a moment in danger. He felt safe here. But he worried about the crewmembers he had allowed to visit Iskol. Command duty, or 'com' duty, as everyone referred to it, was boring. The ship was fairly quiet, since at any point in time, only three crewmembers were awake and running around. During his com time, Frank monitored the progress of the four crewmembers he had sent to the planet, through their skin suit microcams and through the eyes of their warbot escorts. In his off duty hours, he pondered new ideas and inventions, which he had Dyna design and build for him. He also spent some of his time in the ship's zoo and farm. There, he was able to hear life roaring about him, while the rest of the ship was lonely and quiet. Anna often accompanied him on these tours. The crewmembers on the planet were in their second week of 'exploration', when Frank began thinking in new terms, with respect to the Iskolians.

"Dyna, what sort of spybots do we have lying around?" he asked.

Anna was there when he asked, and looked at him confusedly.

"We have human-shaped and swept-wing micros available, Frank."

"Why do you ask that, Frank?" Anna asked. "Is something wrong?"

"I don't know. At least it's nothing I can pin down, but there's something just completely wrong about these people, something they've kept from me, and I don't know what it is. They're hiding something."

"I didn't feel that way at all. I felt very welcome there."

"That's the way they wanted us to feel, but something's up. I can feel it in my bones. And I intend to find out what it is."

"But there's no way to find out. If they're hiding something from you, you'll just have to wait until they tell you."

"I can't wait. I need to know now."

"But how can you?"

"With spies."

"Yes, you could, but you'd never get the first one past them. Everything we do is so closely monitored. Even the swept-wing spybots would be seen."

"I have an idea. It'll only work once, so we've got to do it right the first time. I've had Dyna analyze their scanning devices, and it appears that most of their equipment relies on either manned visual systems or radar-like sweep systems. Either way, the systems rely on an electromagnetic energy return. If we use a specially modified KC engine, we can fire it directly out into space away from the planet and other prying eyes, allowing it to return on a different trajectory, and sneak into the planet's atmosphere unnoticed."

"Sounds like a good idea, but won't someone notice the temporal distortion it'll create?"

"Maybe, but we can disguise it and make it move fast. We'll need to build a launch tube, so it can build up speed before it leaves the ship," Frank said, thoughtfully. "But we can also make it look like a shadow. And since no light or electromagnetic energy can escape its event horizon, it'll be invisible to their radar systems. Dyna, are you getting this?"

"Affirmative, Frank. What do you want to send down?"

"A factory."

"What?" Anna said, confused. "You want to send a factory down to spy on them?"

"Of course not, silly. I want to send down a spybot factory."

"Ooooohhh. I see."

Frank grinned. "We need a lot of information on many different levels of access, which means that we need lots of reliable sources, which means, we need a lot of spies. We can't just send down a bunch of spybots. The Iskolians already know every move we make. This one entry point can give us access to the entire galaxy. We begin by creating 'Iskolbots', and cutting them loose on the streets. The whole infiltration can be done a step at a time. One big advantage here is we don't have to stop with the Iskolians. There's a spaceport and lots of alien visitors. Once we get inside the Iskolian government, we can start sending spies to other star systems."

"That's a very complex plan, Frank, but where are you going to put a spy factory on Iskol? Every inch of the planet's land surface is covered with some form of civilization."

"How about under one of their oceans?"

"Won't they still be able to find it?"

"Yes, but only if they know where to look."

"I'll start work on it right away. Dyna, do you have all this?"

"Affirmative. Analysis and design are in progress. Everything spoken of can be programmed and packaged into a single large drone. Estimated time to completion of drone construction is three weeks."

"You can put the whole factory into a drone?"

"Negative, the drone will secure itself at the designated site and use available materials to construct the factory. The first spybot can be completely assembled twenty days after the drone has been placed."

"Then you believe that the whole plan is viable?" Anna asked.

"Affirmative."

"You doubted me?" Frank asked playfully.

"I never doubt you," she answered innocently.

After three weeks on the planet surface, the second team returned to the Butterworth, and the third team, which consisted of Suni, Paddy, Tia and Nikki, made their way to the planet surface to do their data gathering. After the second team settled in a little bit, Frank gathered them for debriefing.

"There is so much information. We weren't able to even begin unraveling it all. They gave us free access to all of their libraries and we didn't even scratch the surface," Sandy complained.

"It'd take a thousand databots to get all the information we want. Everything we came across was valuable. We kept the data on every subject we looked at. Nothing was useless enough to leave behind," Maria added.

"They use these," Michelle said, as she produced a small circular disc about the size of a penny, but much thinner, "to store information."

"Where did you get that?"

"I asked for one, and they gave it to me."

"It can't leave this ship, it could be scanning everything right now and recording it. Or worse, it could be an explosive device. It has to be destroyed."

"But Frank, shouldn't we analyze it first?" Michelle complained.

"Michelle, we don't know their technology," Frank retorted, "that little device could be almost anything."

Michelle realized her mistake, "I'm sorry, Frank. I'll have it destroyed right away."

"Dyna, bring a neutronium box to put this thing in, please, pronto."

"Compliance, Frank."

Frank remembered the disc the ambassador from Eldews gave him. He had placed the disc into a reader and had Trong record the data, while he cycled the disc through on high speed. Then he had had Trong neutronize the disc and absorb the remains. He had suspected immediately upon receiving the innocuous little gift, that it was a spying device that the ambassador expected him to return to his ship with. Perhaps not, but he was taking no chances.

"I may seem a bit paranoid about this, Michelle. But we must be very careful about everything we do. The people on that planet have one big, giant priority, and that's to find out our secrets. I don't think they'll stop at anything to do that."

Sandy, Maria, Heidi and Anna looked on, but did not interrupt the discussion.

"In the interest of knowledge, we'll chance it this time. Hell, if it was going to find out anything, it's already found out everything. What's fifteen more minutes?"

"Did you say 'fifteen'?"

"Okay, thirty. But make sure you destroy it completely when you're done."

"I will." She kissed him.

The neutronium container arrived, carried by a short, stout workbot and she placed the small disc inside it. The container sealed itself immediately and the disc was safely tucked away.

"Follow," Michelle said to the little workbot as she walked away.

"What about the data, Frank? There's so much valuable information. Can we afford to leave it behind?" Sandy asked.

"No, we can't. Dyna, is there any way that we can plug this data collecting thing into our spybot network?"

"The primary purpose of a spy is to gather information Frank. In view of our new spybot network, I see the role of human investigators as data gatherers no longer practical. The spybots can gather the data much more efficiently."

"What's this about a spybot network?"

"It's something we've been working on while you were gone. I didn't want to tell you about it while you were landside, because I'm not sure our messages are going back and forth safely. Dyna can tell you about it."

During the next three weeks, Frank spent the larger portion of his time watching the progress of construction on his factory building drone. The drone was large, by Frank's standards. It housed a neutronium construction unit, a large computer, a modified KC engine, and a single, multitalented workbot.

At the end of three weeks, the landsiders were ready to shed their skinsuits and head for the Butterworth. Frank knew that their work here would not be complete until the spybot network got going. The Iskolians were not pushing him to leave, and in fact, encouraged him to stay longer. He did not question their motives, but did use it as an excuse to stay. He told the land-siders of his crew to wait a little longer before they returned, but did not tell them why. The reason was so they could use the shuttle as a diversion for launching the factory drone, which was not yet completed. They complained a little, but he assured them that it was necessary.

Five days later, the factory drone was ready for launch. Dyna recalled the shuttle to pick up Frank and Maria and take them to the surface. The timing had to be precise. The shuttle would emerge just as the drone left its launch tube, so as to give anyone watching the impression that the drone's momentary appearance was nothing more than a shadow or a reflection, caused by the mysterious properties of the shuttle's drive.

The shuttle arrived, and Frank and Maria boarded. Trong and Mangle, Maria's escort, arrived moments later, and stored themselves.

"Is the drone ready, Dyna?" He asked.

"All systems are ready, Frank. Launch in four minutes, thirty-one seconds."

"Why a countdown Dyna?"

"The drone will accelerate into transpace, thereby having the effect of 'disappearing' from view. This requires a systematic integration of the launch sequence, plus, the timing includes the diversionary launch of the shuttle."

"Okay." Frank replied.

"Four minutes."

Frank felt silly waiting for the drone to launch itself. It was like having a four-minute countdown to back his car out of the driveway. The shuttle could go at any time, but he knew this had to work on the first try. The next time, the Iskolians would be watching more closely. There would be no second chances.

There was plenty of acceleration when the countdown ended. The shuttle darted out of its bay and headed for the surface of the planet below. After a minute, Frank called the Butterworth to check on the drone's progress.

"How's our baby doing, Suni?"

"She's doing fine," Suni answered, "she just hiccuped."

Frank knew that was the code that told him the drone had successfully launched and was in transpace. The drone now had to 'sneak' into the atmosphere and dive into the planet's ocean, find a suitable location and burrow under the ocean a full kilometer.

The shuttle dived into the Iskolian atmosphere and headed for the spaceport. Landing, Frank saw the transport vehicle awaiting him with its return flight passengers. Frank and Maria exited the shuttle wearing skinsuits, and saw Lord Traaka standing there with Suni, Paddy, Tia and Nikki. Kisses and hugs could barely be felt, but they traded them anyway. Frank and Maria saw them off as the shuttle quietly lifted itself into the sky, and zipped away. Oddly, Frank noticed his shuttle was the quietest ship around, which fact seemed to amaze other people also. All the other starships in the spaceport made loud whining and groaning noises whenever they took off. The only similar noises made were those of crashing the atmospheric sound barrier as they accelerated upward.

Lord Traaka greeted them once again, and escorted them back to the Imperial Palace and again to the same suite they had had before. That evening they attended another dinner with the Duke.

~

Sahn was preparing for another night out in the lower city with her friends. She had seen the strange visitor again, and was excited about telling them he had finally returned. There had been a forty-five day ban on all freetime entertainment activities for the slaves, while the Iskolian authorities hunted for the slave who had killed a patroller in one of the parks. This would be her first opportunity to get out and see them in that time. She had fairly well worked out what happened on their last night out together. She had guessed while she and the others were running down the stairs, the patroller must have caught up with Gaf, and tried to hold him. Gaf, being weaponless, must have tried to beat back the patroller, accidentally killing him. She hoped he had not been found out. She would know tonight.

"Be back later, Father."

"Should you be going out again so soon? They only just lifted the curfew," Panc remarked.

"I haven't seen my friends in a long time. If we don't meet at our regular place, they'll think I'm not coming back."

"Be very careful, child. We don't know if the killer's been found yet."

Sahn hoped not. "I will, Father."

She left the apartment and headed for the underground Imperial Slave's tram terminal. There, she boarded the tram and headed for their regular meeting place. As usual, the tram and the entertainment area were not crowded, but only became so after a while.

Gelk, Kima, and Truuk arrived together, and almost immediately started asking about Gaf and Pac.

"Have you seen them at all?" Kima asked.

"No, have you?" Sahn answered.

"No. But I'm worried about Gaf."

"I know. So am I. I know he didn't do it on purpose."

"You don't know Gaf's people," Truuk interrupted.

"What do you mean?" Gelk asked.

"They're a nasty crowd. I don't want to say anything here, but I could tell you some things that would scare you wild."

"Gaf is wild at times, but still, I can't believe he would do it on purpose. It had to be an accident," Sahn declared.

Just as she finished talking, Gaf walked up to where they had gathered.

"Gaf!" Sahn cried.

"Where's Pac?" Kima asked.

"He's not coming."

"I can't believe you're alive," Kima said, whispering, "after what you did."

"I'm fine," he said, nonchalantly.

"Why didn't Pac come with you?" Gelk asked.

"He didn't want to. Come on, let's get out of here. I know another place we can go." They stared at him, aghast, "It's legal, don't worry."

"It'd better be," Truuk asserted.

"Wait, I'm not going anywhere until I know," Kima demanded, "intentional or accidental?" she looked at Gaf.

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean."

"Kima?" Sahn begged, "Not here."

"Yes. I want to know. Here and now."

"Okay… it was an accident."

"You're lying," Kima accused.

"Kima!"

"No."

"Be still."

"Don't make a scene. We'll be noticed."

"Look!" Gaf interrupted, as they tried settled Kima down, "I've got something I want to show you. I want you to come with me."

"No," Kima insisted. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

"It's very important. You must trust me."

"What's more important than what you did?"

"What I have to show you is more important."

"You're lying."

"I'm not."

"What's more important, then?"

Gaf paused for a moment as they waited for his next words, "Freedom," he whispered.

The whole group quieted for a few moments and stared at Gaf, who was looking serious.

"I should turn you in," Kima said, intolerantly.

"No slave ever turns in another, Kima," Gaf replied.

"I know, that's why I haven't."

"Then come with me, please. This is the most important thing you could ever see in your lives. I'm only showing you because you're my friends and I trust you."

"We'll go with you, Gaf," Sahn relented. "But you have to promise we won't get in trouble."

"I swear by Uunta. This way—follow me."

Gaf headed for the tram and all followed except Kima. Truuk looked around and went to pull her along.

"Come on, Kima, don't spoil the fun."

She finally gave in and followed the rest of them. The wait was not very long before the right tram came along. Gaf hopped on it and the rest followed. It was a long ride, and they finally stepped off at another terminal. They waited a while and caught another tram, which seemed to be moving even further from where they'd initially met.

"We're going out of the city, aren't we," Sahn said.

"Not far." Gaf admitted.

They got off of the second tram after another long ride and got onto a third. The terminals were getting further apart as they moved along, and Sahn could tell they were already well outside the city. She had never been this far from home before, and she worried.

"Gaf, maybe you'd better tell us, instead of showing us this big secret of yours," Gelk finally said, breaking their silence.

"It's not far now, we're almost there."

They finally arrived at a terminal where Gaf got off. They followed him, only to find there was only one exit from the small, vacant terminal. That would undoubtedly lead to the surface.

"Come on." Gaf lead them towards the stairwell.

They moved forward uneasily, and followed him up the stairs. When they reached the top, they emerged at the surface.

"I knew it!" Kima said, "You've lied to us. Now we're going to be in big trouble."

"No, no," he calmed her, "this is a farm. It's alright here. Slaves are allowed to move around freely, even at night."

"It's true," Gelk concurred, "I've heard that."

They walked quietly, nonetheless, through a wooded area and stepped out onto an open area near some fences. A small building dominated the center of the fenced area, and appeared to be the only building around. Gaf led them around the fence to a gate, and walked towards the small building. When they got to the building, Sahn could tell that it was a place where animals were kept. She had read about farms when she was a child. It was another of the few benefits that Imperial slaves had, that of being educated and able to read.

Gaf motioned them to remain quiet. He knocked on the door twice, then paused, then knocked once, then three times, then opened the door and walked in.

The lights in the building were subdued, and Sahn could see the animals as she walked past their stalls. She sensed there was something very dangerous about being here, and worried the animals would make some noise, sending an alarm to the owner. They arrived at the second from the last stall on the left, and Gaf stopped, reached into a nearby bucket and pulled something out. He held it in the palm of his hand and fed it to the beast that occupied this stall. The animal snorted and munched the food given it. Gaf opened the stall gate and stepped in, motioning for the others to follow. Kima held back. They all motioned to her. She finally relented and stepped in.

Gaf held the gate and soothed the animal at the same time because the stall had become crowded. He closed the gate and worked his way to the back of the stall, where he started fumbling around in the cruba lining the stall's floor. He finally found something and began pulling up planks. Sahn stood nearest to him and looked down at what he was uncovering, only to see nothing but a dark hole.

"There's a ladder right near the edge," Gaf whispered, "feel for it first, then climb down and wait for me. Don't go anywhere until I get down."

Sahn knelt down on her knees and felt around the edge of the hole. Surely enough there was a ladder rung. She sat down and grasped it tightly, easing herself into the hole and onto the other rungs further down. Gaf steadied her as she climbed down out of his reach. As she moved down into the darkness, she looked up and saw that the only source of light was the very limited source coming from the hole above. She gathered a little more courage and continued on down, until she found the bottom. There, she waited. Gelk came down next, and she touched him to let him know the bottom was near. Kima came next, then Truuk. Sahn looked up to see Gaf closing off their only source of light. A few moments later, it was pitch dark. Sahn could not imagine any place could be this dark. Gaf finally got to the floor, and started feeling around.

"Everyone here?" he whispered, "No one wondered off, I hope. Truuk?"

"Here."

"Kima?"

"Yes."

"Sahn."

"Here."

"Gelk?"

"Right here."

"Okay, follow me. Make a chain and hold onto the one in front of you."

Gaf led the way, Sahn holding his hand in front and Gelk's hand behind her. Kima and Truuk trailed them. Gaf moved along the wall feeling his way, until they arrived at the end of the corridor. Sahn heard Gaf knock again, first once, then four times, then twice. She heard the door opening as Gaf pulled her into another dark area, which she sensed no longer, was a hallway. Then he stopped.

"Never wear red when you sleep on green." he said, no longer whispering, but his voice low.

"What?" Sahn asked.

"Shhhh."

"It's Blue One, with friends, Blue Two, Five, Eight and Nine," Gaf announced.

"Enter," a voice came out of the darkness.

Sahn sensed danger here, as Gaf moved around her, pulling the others through the door and closing it.

At once, light filled the room, blinding her with its brightness and she shielded her eyes against it. Then she saw other slaves in the room around her. They were all Relmish and some of them had weapons aimed at Gaf's group.

Shortly they were identified and the weapons were lowered. Sahn looked at the weapons and realized they were not the regular slavestingers carried by patrollers, but the heavy laser rifles used by the military. She looked at the other slaves in the room, and did not recognize any of them except Pac, who was sitting in a far corner. There were thirty slaves here, she guessed, and they all had their eyes on her. She looked back at them and saw grim, deadly faces. Then she realized why Truuk had called Gaf's people a 'nasty crowd,' and felt he had made an understatement. She had been used to the pleasantries and friendliness of the Imperial slaves, and chided herself for not listening to her father about avoiding the slaves in the lower city.

Gaf herded his group toward the front of the room, where a single lamp burned on top of a table. Three slaves sat at the table, waiting for them. They appeared to be the leaders of this group, and to Sahn, looked fearsome as could be. They stopped moving short of reaching the table.

"Why did you bring all of them," the slave in the middle asked.

"I had to. The others would've been suspicious," Gaf answered, "They're my friends, I trust them."

"Gaf you…"

"Quiet! We speak no names here," the slave reprimanded Kima, "Which one is from the Imperial Palace?"

"This one," Gaf said, putting his hand on Sahn.

"You tricked me!" Sahn rebuked, as she backed away from his touch.

"No. We need your help," Gaf tried to calm her.

"You toe-sucking—"

"Quiet, child," the slave interrupted, "We're told you've seen the new off-worlder. Is this true?"

Sahn looked at the haggardly slave, as his piercing gaze bored into her. She wanted to turn and run, screaming, but she knew if she did, she would be dead before she reached the door. Her mind raced for an answer. She did not want to be involved with these people in any way, but she knew if she said yes that she would end up becoming inextricably tied to them. If she told them no, they would accuse her of lying, and probably beat the truth out of her. Again, she chided herself for not listening to her father.

"Please answer the question."

"No," she answered, shyly.

"What!"

"I mean… yes. But only a glance."

"Oh? We were lead to believe that you'd locked eyes with him. Is this not so?"

"I made that up."

"She's lying," came from the corner, it was Pac. She stabbed a look at him.

"You will describe the off-worlder to me—in detail," the slave ordered.

"Please come forward, child, don't be afraid. We only kill spies."

The words did not comfort her, but she stepped towards the table anyway. When she was halfway between the table and the four others in her group, she described everything she could remember about the off-worlder's appearance. The slaves around her were seated on benches as they listened intently. Her voice trembled as she gave them the description. When she finished talking, the room was quiet.

The slave in the center position at the table then reached under it and produced a box, setting it atop the table. He opened the box and pulled out a folded piece of leathery material. Sahn recognized it as an animal hide. The slave carefully and gently unfolded it, and laid it flat on the table.

"Is this him?" he asked as he drew up the hide and showed it to her. She gasped and her eyes grew wide. The room filled with murmuring and whispers.

"Yes," she said, "that's him."

The murmuring grew louder. On the hide, was a roughly drawn sketch of the off-worlder.

The slave motioned and the noise subsided.

"Child, do you know who this is?" the slave asked.

"She knows," came from the corner again.

"Do you?" he wanted affirmation.

"Yes… I think so."

"Who is it?"

"The Chosen One?"

"Are you asking?"

"I don't know."

"Yes or no?" he sounded angry.

"Yes!" she said, as tears ran down her cheek. The murmuring started up again, louder than before.

"Quiet!" The crowd hushed. "It was foretold, the Chosen One is revealed to us by a child-slave of high order. The prophecy is fulfilled, and we are its witnesses. There is much to do now. We must prepare everything for Him. This meeting is ended. You, come with me," he pointed at Gaf, "and bring her. Those others will remain here, they're not needed."

Gelk stepped forward and tried to protest, "You can't do that!"

Gaf reached and grabbed him, "She won't be harmed," he said, assuringly.

Other slaves in the room were leaving, but had stopped when Gelk got out of line. Several came forward and stood near the group. One came forward and said, "You won't be giving us any trouble, now, will you?"

Gelk saw these were people with a deadly purpose, and decided that he would not be a source of trouble for them, "No sir."

The lead slave finished folding the animal hide sketch of the off-worlder, and headed for another exit from the room. Other slaves were already leaving through other exits. But most of them were still in the room, milling about and talking. A few left through the main exit, but no more had gone that way since. Gaf took hold of Sahn's arm and lead her along, as ordered.

Sahn felt the strength in his hands squeezing her to the point of pain. She went along fearfully for, now she knew she was mixed up with an insane batch of religious fanatics. These people actually believed in the old superstitions, and she was being forced to play a role in their crazy, suicidal game.

They went through the exit into another darkened corridor, made a few turns until there was almost no light at all. They finally stepped into a room with a small light in it. It was a small, single-room apartment for one slave. A mat was rolled up in the corner, for sleeping, along with a small store of food in some throwaway boxes. A table with a small lamp adorned the far wall. A laser rifle and a large knife stood side-by-side in another corner. The box holding the sketch now lay under the table, and the slave was seated, cross-legged, on a floormat. Another slave sat facing him.

"Enter and be welcome. Sit," the slave ordered.

Sahn entered ahead of Gaf, and sat down. Gaf sat beside her and they made a circle.

"This is my uncle," Gaf pointed out, "he's Tog, leader of the rebellion. His is the only name that may be spoken here. He's already declared himself an enemy to Iskol, and is a wanted slave. If he's captured, he'll be killed."

"You tricked me into coming here, Gaf."

"Child, I remind you, we don't speak names here."

"It's alright, Uncle. I now, am also a wanted slave."

"What?" Sahn was agape, looking at Gaf.

"It's true. They know who I am. I've been hiding here ever since the night I killed the patroller. I risked my life going to our old meeting place, tonight."

"Then—what Kima said—you killed him on purpose."

"Yes."

"But why, when you could have as easily throttled him."

"One dead patroller now is one less to kill later," Gaf said, grimly.

"We're not here to discuss this," the other slave interrupted.

"He's right," Tog agreed, "there are more important matters at hand. We'd heard rumors that the Chosen One had left our world for a time, but now has returned. Do you know about this?"

Now, they were referring to the new off-worlder as the 'Chosen One', no less, and Sahn grew even more fearful for her life. She knew the new off-worlder had returned, but now wondered whether she should play along with their game, adding fuel to their fire of insanity.

"Well?"

"The new off-worlder returned yesterday."

Tog seemed to recognize her refute of the Chosen One's holiness, and allowed it. This calmed her considerably.

"We must contact Him."

"That's impossible."

"Nonetheless, we must."

"He's guarded, night and day. No slave would be allowed to get near him."

"You've been near Him."

"I've served him food and drink. To do more would mean death to me."

"You must help us arrange a meeting with Him."

"But how? I can't speak to him."

"Give Him this." Tog pulled out a reader disc and handed it to her. She examined it closely and fingered it, recognizing what it was.

"What does it say?"

"Do you want to know?"

She thought for a moment, "No."

"All you have to do, is give it to Him, but no one else must see it."

"What if someone does?"

"Be certain no one does."

"But why me, why not someone else?"

"My nephew says we can trust you. You're our only connection to the Imperial Palace."

"What about those others, the ones who told you the off-worlder had returned?"

"They're only loud-mouthed braggarts. If they're loud-mouthed outside, then they'll be loud-mouthed inside, and our concealment would be ruined. You're the only one who can help us."

The little disc she held between her fingers, again, attracted Sahn’s attention. They sat there quietly, as she contemplated what she would do. She decided she would play along for now, until she was safely away. But when she returned to the palace, she would destroy the disc, throw away the pieces, and never leave the palace again. She would follow her father's advice from this day forward, and spend more time learning to enjoy the safe company of the other Imperial slaves. She would keep the secret of this place, and hopefully, these slaves would expect no more of her.

"Alright, I'll do it," she lied.

The other three slaves sighed as though they had been holding their breaths.

"But only if I'm never asked to do this again."

"Agreed," Tog said.

"I have to get back soon. If I'm out too late I'll be punished."

"Don't worry about that, we'll get you back in plenty of time. We don't want you attracting attention to yourself by being out late. If you're caught with that disc, there'll be terrible consequences—and not just for you."

The small meeting concluded. Gaf led her through some more tunnels and then up another ladder. She guessed they were not returning by the same way they came, and when she reached the surface, she had guessed rightly. As she emerged from the hole, she found herself surrounded by trees, and her friends were standing a little ways off. Gaf whispered into her ear.

"I can't go with you, you know why. He'll help you get back to the city," he said, pointing at another unfamiliar slave that was standing next to her friends. "Go now. Uunta protect you."

She looked at him for a moment, turned and walked towards her friends, then she stopped and turned around to say something, but he was gone, as was the hole she had emerged from.

The rebel slave escorted her and her friends back to the tram terminal and got on one of the trams, motioning them to follow. They boarded two more trams after that and were eventually back where they started.

No words passed between them as they made their way back. Sahn wondered what had been done or said to her friends to make them so quiet. They were all so cooperative but also gravely sober.

The other slave motioned them off of the tram, while he remained aboard. The tram left and they remained standing there. Again, no words passed between them, as they seemingly ignored her.

Her tram was the first to arrive, and she boarded it. The doors closed, and as the tram moved away from the terminal, she looked out the window at her friends. None looked back. It was as though she had never known them. Why had they now abandoned her so easily, she wondered. Even Gelk, her male-friend, acted like she was a total stranger. What had they done to him?

She arrived at the Imperial Palace terminal just in time for the night curfew. A little bit longer, and she would have been late. Arriving at her father's apartment, she went in and walked past him towards her sleeproom not speaking a word. In her room, she closed her door, and sat at her dressing table. She pulled out the reader disc, and looked at it again. It looked different now, in proper light, but her plan remained the same.

The whole evening was like a horrible nightmare that had not really happened—could not have really happened. For a moment, she even tried to pretend that it had not, but the proof of it remained relentlessly grasped between her fingers. She had to destroy the disc and get rid of the remains before she was caught with it.

But first, she would go out to her father, and apologize for being such an uncooperative child, and promise to follow his advice from now on. It occurred to her that when she came in, the holographic viewer had been off, but her father had been staring at it. And usually he greeted her when she came in, but he did not. And she had not thought to greet him. She hid the disc in her dressing table and went into the family room. He was still sitting there gazing at nothing. She kneeled beside his chair and looked at his face. His eyes remained fixed upon nothing. She touched his arm.

"Father?"

He slowly pulled his eyes away from the nothing he had been staring at, and focused upon Sahn with a gaze that pierced her soul. It was the gaze of sadness and loss.

"What's the matter, Father?"

"Sahn… Tam…" nothing followed, but his eyes told her something bad was to follow.

"What Father? What about Tam?" she asked, slowly suspecting that something horrible had happened.

"She's…" he looked at Sahn, grief stricken.

"Father? What is it?"

"Tam… is dead."

She fell to her haunches, as her world became surreal. In a few moments, the shock set in. How many times, Tam had saved her, covered for her and comforted her. Tam was an institution by herself among the Imperial Slaves, respected and loved, a matriarch in her own right. Tam helped Panc to raise Sahn, sat with Sahn when Panc could not be around, because Sahn had no mother. When no one else would come, Tam would. And now she realized she had so selfishly taken Tam for granted. Tam was a "known" in Sahn's life, a rock to cling to when all other things failed. Dead. No, she did not believe it. Dead? Tears streamed down her cheeks.

"How Father?" she asked.

Panc paused for a moment, "The Emperor. He had another fit. It wasn't even her fault. But… she was there." He was staring at nothing again.

"What happened?"

"He just kept beating her… and he wouldn't stop. She was bowing to him, on the floor, just taking it and taking it. We waited for him to stop. But he didn't. He beat her and beat her. And when he finally stopped, she just… laid there, still bowing, face on the floor. He ordered her to get up, but she defied him. She was dead."

Sahn was sobbing now, and could not take anymore. She ran back to her room and threw herself on her cot, face down, still sobbing loudly. She cried until she had no more tears to cry. Tam had been close to retirement. Her record was probably the finest of all the Imperial slaves. She would have retired with a good bonus and a comfortable stipend. But now she was dead. Sahn cried herself to sleep.

Sometime later, she awoke. Her bed covers had been pulled over her, her light was turned out and her door was closed. It was not time for her to awaken yet—very early in the morning, in fact. She threw her covering off and went to her dressing table, her eyes still red from crying. Sitting down, she took out the little disc given her the evening before, and looked at it again. She allowed a new resolve to build within her. And she prayed, and hoped.

"Uunta," she whispered, "I pray He is the One."

~

Frank was getting tired of the dinner-receptions. He had not been on the planet for a week, and he was attending a third one. Lord Traaka explained that new emissaries had arrived, and were to be greeted and welcomed. It was pretty much the same routine. First, there would be drinks and lots of chatter, then dinner, and then more drinks and more chatter. It was the usual formal occasion, and Frank wore his usual formal 'Captain's' uniform. He found his favorite ambassador, Rofful of Eldews, standing alone, and joined him for a chat.

~

Panc sensed Sahn's nervousness and wondered what was wrong with her.

"Be calm, child, what's the matter?"

"Nothing, Father," she lied, "I have to serve the drinks, now."

She picked up the tray holding the drinks and dropped the disc into the one she would give the new off-worlder, making sure no one saw her. The tightening of her muscles built. Her father had sensed her tenseness, and that meant she was not hiding it very well, which in turn, caused her to be even more nervous. No mistakes, she thought to herself, NO mistakes.

She carefully carried the tray into the reception room, promptly spotted the new off-worlder and headed his direction, keeping her eyes to the floor. Not a third of the way across the floor, she was stopped. She held the tray out for the emissary. Her heart stopped when he picked up the drink intended for the new off-worlder. The emissary looked into the glass, sniffed it, and placed it back on the tray, found another drink, did the same, and kept that one. She breathed again, but now her heart was racing.

The heel of her foot caught on the floor, and she almost lost balance, Balance! I've never tripped before!, she thought. Courage, courage, a few more moments, and the deed would be done. She closed on him, and was stopped again. A drink was removed. Not the 'one'—okay. There, here! She rotated the tray, placing the drink near his grasp. She watched the hand reach, then back away. He was engrossed in conversation, speaking fluent Iskolian. Eyes on the floor, she focused every effort on remaining calm and composed. Take the drink! she begged him, in her thoughts. Finally, he picked up the glass. Relief!

She breathed again, turned and headed back to the service room. Then, the most amazing thing happened. She lost her footing. This can't happen, she thought. She caught herself, but it was too late. She watched in slow motion as the one drink fell off of the tray, crashing to the floor and smashing to pieces. The one glass having gone off the tray, caused it to be out of balance, so the rest of the glasses went the other way, also crashing to the floor and splintering into thousands of pieces. The entire room became quiet, and the shock of it ran through her like fire.

She lifted her eyes to see that she was the focus of attention in the room. Dazed, she looked toward the service entrance, and saw her father standing there, in shock. She dropped to her knees, and folded into the fetal position, forehead to the floor, and waited for the inevitable. She hoped it would end quickly.

~

Frank had just been served his first drink of the evening, and was talking with Ambassador Rofful, when a horrible crashing noise filled the room. Both he and the ambassador turned in time to see more of the glass-like containers fall off of the serving tray that the slave was carrying.

Then the creature balled itself up on the floor, and stayed there, as though waiting for something to happen.

"That poor slave must be in a lot of trouble," Frank commented.

"That poor slave won't be alive by the end of this reception," Ambassador Rofful answered.

"What? They'd kill it for dropping a few dishes?"

The Emperor was now approaching the slave, "Guards!" he called out.

"If it’s lucky, it'll die a quick death."

"You are certain? Is this so?"

"Of course," the ambassador said, matter-of-factly.

"This must not happen. Pardon me," Frank said as he walked over to the Emperor where he stood over the slave.

Guards walked into the reception room and were closing on the slave and the Emperor.

"Your Majesty?" Frank interrupted, and he sensed the Emperor was infuriated by the slave's ineptitude.

"Friend, Frank Jameson. Please forgive this terrible interruption. How can I make this up to you?" he said in a friendly tone.

"Your Majesty, I wish to thank you for your gracious hospitality. I am most grateful, and I assure you, that this minor dropping of dishes does not disturb me. If it wouldn't be too ungrateful, I wish to make a special request of you, this evening, bearing in mind that I've never asked for anything before."

"Ask, Frank Jameson. I wish only to make your stay here pleasant."

"I wish to intercede on behalf of this slave, if I may, and ask that you spare its life."

The Emperor grimaced, momentarily, and then the three were the focal point of the entire reception. "Why do you wish to intercede for this animal?"

"On my home world, we protect even animals when we can. It grieves me to know this creature would die for what my people would view as a minor infraction."

"This would cause you pain?"

"In my soul, your Majesty." Frank replied.

"Frank Jameson, I make it a gift, to you. This slave is no longer useful to me. You may do with it as you wish. I seek only to please my guests," the Emperor pronounced with a smile.

The guards were still standing over the slave, ready to carry it off. The Emperor sent them away.

~

Panc watched at the service entrance in shocked disbelief at the exchange that had just taken place. The off-worlder had just saved his only child's life. What power does he wield to cause such a thing? he wondered.

~

Sahn lay on the floor, balled up in the fetal position, waiting for the guards to take her to her death. But now her mind buzzed with terror and happiness—she did not know which. The new off-worlder, no… no, the Chosen One had spared her life. Truly he was the Chosen One. She would not believe any of them before, but the proof of his power was before her. No other being could have done this. He was not the savior of just her people, he was her personal savior. He had saved her life.

But now what kind of life would she have, on a foreign world, never to see her father or friends, again. She was even likely never to see another Relmish person again. The emperor has walked away, but the Chosen One stands over me, she thought.

A hand touched her on the shoulder, a cold, unfeeling hand, as though it were metal. She rose to her knees, eyes to the floor.

"Look at me," Frank said.

She raised her eyes to look at him, cowering, as she did so. They locked eyes.

"You're free," he said.

A storm raged through her as the impact of the words sent her mind spinning. In a moment, she had been pulled from death's grasp and replanted—roots gone. The world was closing in on her and her sight dimmed. Her heart pounded and her head was on fire. Then she thought for a moment, and realized that there was no such thing as freedom for her. There was nowhere for her to go. Even on Relm, she would be hunted.

"No, I am your slave," she said, quivering, "I wish to serve you. I beg you."

Frank was taken aback by this. He did not understand why the slave was talking this way. But the middle of a formal reception was not a good place or time to talk about it.

"Go to the entrance of the reception room. There, my servant will guide you to my suite. Get some rest. In the morning we’ll talk."

Sahn did as she was told, eyes to the floor, more in shame than anything else. She made her way to the large doors, but in the hallway the guards stopped her and ripped away the imperial insignias showing her to be of high order among slaves. One of the guards lifted his slavestinger to strike her with it. She flinched as it bore down to strike her. But the slavestinger smashed to bits as the blow landed against a solid arm of… something.

"My master has directed me to protect this being," the voice of the 'something' was deep and powerful, with an air of perfect authority. The thing that saved her from the blow was menacingly large and unforgiving. It exuded restrained power.

Sahn watched the guard back away and saw fear in his eyes, as he gazed at the giant.

"Thank you," the giant said, then turned to Sahn and said, "My master wishes that you return with me, to his suite. You are under his protection, and now, mine. Come with me, please."

The voice of this thing was overpowering. She could not have disobeyed if she wanted to.

The two rode a hover-car to Frank's suite. She had never been on an imperial hover-car before, and in fact, only rarely had ever seen one. She arrived at the suite, and was awed at the luxury afforded the Imperial guests.

"Please be seated," the thing ordered.

She sat on the plush couch, in a daze.

"Are you a slave?" she asked the monster. Nothing was real anymore. She was talking to a monster, but it was not her who was talking. Something else in her had taken over and was walking and talking for her, while she sat inside herself, watching and hiding.

"No, I'm a machine. I am directed to see to your comfort, how may I effect this?"

The whole mess became too much for her. The past few days must have caused her to hallucinate, and the strain had become far too much. Her mind became fuzzy and the light dimmed. She finally lost consciousness.

When Sahn awoke the next morning, she found herself in a strange cot—a large, luxurious sleeping cot, but did not quite recognize it as a cot. Then she recalled the events of the evening before and the past few days, which had caused her to be where she was now. She wept, and remained under the cover, huddled, because the cover would protect her, as it did when she was a child.

As she laid there, she re-examined her predicament; once a proud slave of the Imperial Palace, with prestige, short work periods, lots of spending credits, and a guaranteed early retirement on her home world. But now, shamed and tossed away like trash; handed to an alien who knew nothing of slave ownership, or even worse, thought he could set her free. She looked at her Imperial Slave uniform, in tatters with the insignias ripped away, and allowed her tears to moisten the cot coverings.

After a while, she decided that she had already indulged in enough self-pity, and from then on, determined that she would meet whatever her new life had in store for her head-on. Her old life was a shambles. Perhaps Uunta had given her a second chance.

She literally had to crawl across it to get out of the cot she had slept in. Four large Relmish could easily sleep on this 'cot'. She also noted she had been given her own sleeproom. She wandered out of her room to see two large, shining servant-machines standing guard in the main room of the suite. They took notice of her immediately, and rotated their heads to look. At once she backed into her sleeproom, fearfully trying to hide from them, knowing she was at their mercy. The silvery giant walked through the doorway.

"Greetings and good morning. Is everything well?" it asked her.

"Y-yes, fine," she answered, cowering, "Don't you ever sleep?"

"I don't need sleep. The master has directed that you may move freely around the suite and seek nourishment, but please do not awaken him, unless there is an emergency."

"I will not disturb him."

"Very good. May I help you with anything?"

"No, no… thank you."

She must have exhausted herself, she thought, because the light of the late morning filled the main room of the suite, and it was unlike her to take so much sleep. She wondered what her father was doing this very moment, and how much sleep he had gotten.

Sounds emanated from another room in the suite and she worried that she had accidentally disturbed her new master. Sahn, you’ve ruined your old life. Don't ruin your new one, she chided herself.

"Did I awaken the master?" she asked the machine.

"I don't believe so. You've been very quiet."

One of the two new aliens appeared through the doorway from the other room where the noises came from. It walked halfway across the room and stopped when it noticed Sahn standing there.

"Oh, good morning," it said, "You poor thing, don't be afraid," it sensed her fear, "Are you hungry?"

Hungry? She was famished! But her fear had overridden her hunger. The voice of the alien was soothing and she calmed a little.

"What's your name?" it asked in a friendly voice. Never had an owner been so polite with her before.

"Sahn," she answered shyly.

"Sahn. That's a pretty name, my name's Maria," the alien said.

"Ma-ri-a," Sahn tried to repeat.

"That's right." The alien moved closer to Sahn, but she kept her courage and did not back away, "Are you hungry, Sahn, would you like to eat?" The alien stared for a moment, waiting for an answer.

"Yes… please," eyes to the floor.

"Good, come on," the alien called 'Maria' said, as it pulled her toward a table. Its touch was cold, "sit here, and I'll get you something."

A master serving her? Her father would be roiling if he knew.

"Your physiology is very similar to ours. I think you can eat a lot of the same things we eat."

The alien busied itself with a machine for a while, and in almost no time, it placed hot food in front of her. She did not understand why the alien thought she could eat hot food, but even worse, she did not recognize anything in front of her. She stalled for a few moments. She had known from the service kitchens that many aliens ate their food hot, some cold, and others had to be exactly somewhere in between.

"Don't worry, it's safe for you. I've studied your peoples’ physiology, and I know this is good for you. You may not like its taste, but if you don't, that's all right too. You don't have to eat anything you don't like."

Sahn started picking up little bits of the food, and sampling it, as the alien looked on, eating as it did. The alien, Maria, had been right. Some of this food tasted horrible, but other items were very tasty. So she ate all the things she liked, and left the things she did not. Unfortunately, there had not been enough food there to alleviate her hunger. She was afraid to ask for more, but did not have to ask. The alien sensed her need.

"More? You must be very hungry."

She was. And more food came in short order. The second serving came with more of the foods she had eaten already, but the foods she had turned away were gone. In their place, were other foods she had not yet tried. This time, though, the servings were much larger, and she was certain she would not be able to eat it all.

"Good morning " came from across the room.

It was the Master. She stopped eating, hopped out her chair and knelt before him.

"No, no. No need for this. Please, don't bow to me." Gently he reached down, helped her up and sent her back to her chair at the table.

"Good morning, Frank," Maria said, cheerfully.

"Well, I see our guest's been eating. That's a good sign," he said as he made his way towards the table and sat beside her.

She held her eyes to her lap where her hands were clasped, and waited in terror for what would come next.

"It says its name is 'Sahn', but I think 'it, is a 'she'," Maria said.

"A female?"

"Uh huh."

"Is this so?" the Master asked her.

"Yes… Master," she answered shyly.

"You should not call me Master, my name is Frank. And you also don't have to avoid looking at me. It seems odd that this morning your eyes would be averted. The first time I saw you during a very large reception, you looked right at me. You were much bolder then."

"Forgive me," she begged, almost in tears.

"Nothing to forgive," he said, grinning, "I thought it a bit amusing."

She recognized his intent, but did not understand it. She raised her head up slowly, and gazed at him. And immediately felt embarrassed for doing so, and found herself staring at her hands again.

"Good for you, Sahn, good for you," the Master said, "You've made the first step towards being free."

"Free?" she looked up.

"Yes."

"But… you will not be my master?"

"I wouldn't know what to do with a slave. Nor do I believe in such practice."

"But I have nowhere to go?" she said, "There is no place where I can be free."

"What about your home world, we'll take you there."

"There is no freedom on my home world… I am told. I would be hunted, and returned here to accept a new master."

The Master appeared confused and looked at the other alien named Maria. He seemed to realize that this presented a problem. Now, their mouths were moving, as though they talked, but no sounds came out. This went on for a few moments.

"Do you know of another world you could go to?"

"Master—"

"Call me Frank… please."

"Frank," she almost stuttered over it, "I would have no family, no friends, no others of my kind."

"You have a family here?"

"Only my father."

"Where?"

"Here—in the palace. He is an Imperial Slave."

"Well, maybe we can arrange for him to go with you."

"But… I love my father, but I would have no friends,"

Frank immediately realized what the Relmish slave was referring to. She was talking about Relmish friends. She was fairly young—probably a teen adolescent.

"We can't stay on this planet forever, Sahn. We have to move on sometime. We're only here on a scientific expedition."

"Perhaps… you could help to free my people?" she ventured.

"What?" came the obvious reply.

"I'm sorry, I did not mean that."

"Ooooh, maybe that would help explain what this is all about," he said as he set the transparent reader disc on the table in front of her.

The disk! she thought. She had forgotten all about it. She looked at it, and felt she had been at least blessed it was not in Iskolian hands.

"You have read it?"

"Yes, I have. And it says some very interesting things. I'll go ahead and meet with this person, but I'll have to tell you now, I'm not this 'chosen one' they're talking about." Sahn's eyes dropped again, and the alien, Frank, knew her thoughts. "Did you think I was?"

"For a time… I had hoped."

Frank could feel the sadness in her voice.

"What if we were to free your father also, and if you have a friend in mind?"

"Where would we go?" her point was made.

"I don't know what else to do here, Maria. From this disc, I can tell she's in danger if she stays here. It might be a good idea to try and get to the bottom of this 'chosen one' thing, and find out why these people are asking for me."

"Many of my people say that you are the Chosen One, but I cannot tell you why… here."

"That's true, this room probably has a thousand bugs in it."

"Bugs?"

"Nevermind. We may have to put her on the ship until we can figure out what to do with her."

"What is 'ship'?"

"It's a safe place for you to stay—just for a while."

Sahn could not imagine such a thing as a safe place for any slave to be. Later that morning, she was introduced to Trong, and told he would escort her to safety. The alien Frank was having words with the High Lord Traaka, one of the most powerful lords of the Empire. Arrangements were made for her transport to—somewhere?

"Go with Trong, Sahn. He'll escort you."

"Yes, Mas—uh, Frank."

Again, Trong lead her to the big hallway, and onto a hover-car. The car lifted itself and began descending through the floors and winding its way through the immense palace, making its way to the main entrance. There, Trong guided her to another hovercar, one for moving around outside the palace, and they boarded it.

Other slaves, and even Iskolian citizens looked on as she made her way towards the car, amazed that a common slave was going to use transport which was exclusively reserved for emissaries. Sahn recognized one of the Imperial Slaves tending the palace garden, and looked over to him, as he looked back. She was comforted in knowing someone would be able to tell her father she was still alive. Sahn had never ridden in a hover-car before, and she wondered at the beauty Iskolians had built for themselves, as she watched their world go past below her.

Arriving at the spaceport, she suspected she would soon be boarding one of the great starships that adorned this place. She braced herself for a long stay inside the cramped quarters of a grounded starship, and wondered why the Chosen One told her it would be a 'safe place' to stay.

When they arrived at the place, the hover-car settled near the ground, and Sahn's heart sank. The alien's starship was even smaller than she expected, and probably one of the smallest ones. What made her think the new off-worlder/alien had the power to help her people? His 'starship', would be shot down before it ever launched itself, and chances are, if this happened, she would be in it.

She followed the instructions her new master had given her. But wait, he was not even her master, she had no master, she had nowhere to go. Her status was nil. She was nothing. She grasped at the realization that she was truly, no longer a slave. But she now had no direction in her life. Trong was guiding her up the ramp of the alien starship that she was about to board, and she stopped. She looked out across her world, in the bright sunshine, and knew she was lost, right down to her soul. She felt different in this new light, and her fear arose as new meanings approached her. Trong broke the spell she was in.

"We must move forward."

"Yes, we must," she agreed.

At the top of the ramp, an opened door awaited her, but the doorway held a strange phenomenon, as it were, water that falls in a sheet, but is not water. She stared at it, but did not move.

"The power level has been reduced," Trong said, "It is safe for you to pass through."

Why did this machine carry such power in its voice, she wondered? She believed Trong, and stepped up to the 'water that falls, but is not water', when a voice came from behind the mysterious curtain.

"Walk through slowly, please."

It was a gentle, friendly voice. She did as she was told, and as she did so, her fur rose as it had never done before. Her skin tingled, and occasional sparks zapped her. In a moment, she was through.

"Please stand by for identification and surface sterilization," the voice came from the walls, as the door closed behind her. She knew there had to be a speaker somewhere.

She waited, and again, her fur rose and her skin tingled, but walking away would not help this time. The sparks did not hurt much, so she endured them.

"External sterilization complete, subject identified; authorized female alien, ex-Imperial Slave, race; Relmish, authorization required; please wait… authorization confirmed, please enter, Sahn. Welcome aboard."

The internal doors opened, and Sahn walked in, seeing immediately that she was alone. She turned to see that Trong had not come in with her, and now thought even he would be better than no company at all. But small though the ship was, it appeared to be about as luxurious as the Imperial suite in which she had spent the night. Perhaps it would not be so bad.

She wandered toward the front of the ship, and found odd-looking chairs facing some windows. Windows! She looked out the windows.

"How can this be?" she said to herself. The ship was rising, but she could feel no motion at all. She became panicky as the ship nosed upwards and began accelerating. She saw the ground moving away at a dizzying pace as the little ship shot through the thin clouds in the upper atmosphere. The sky ahead grew darker and darker, and there were stars in front of her. She was in space!

"Sahn, what've you gotten yourself into now?" she said to herself.

She looked out the other window and saw the entire planet of Iskol below. The little ship made a course adjustment but continued moving along the same general direction, but now seemed to be slowing. As it slowed, she could see a large object approaching directly ahead.

"Uh oh, this is it."

The object slowed as it grew ever larger before the little ship. Then she realized the object was an enormous starship, but it was not moving, this one was. The little ship closed the gap slowly, and as it approached the larger vessel, Sahn noticed three other tiny ships facing the monstrosity. But now she recognized these as something she had seen before—patrollers! What were they doing here? Then in a rush it dawned on her, "That's his ship."

"Affirmative," the computer answered her, and she jumped.

Now she understood why this alien had so much clout. His starship was as big as the Imperial Palace itself, or larger. And judging by the size of the three tiny patroller craft, it was larger than any of the starships she had seen at the spaceport.

A tiny light was now visible on the side of the starship, and the light gradually grew larger as the little ship approached it. In a few more minutes, the small light became a huge docking bay for the tiny little craft she was in. The little ship approached and entered the larger one, and all motion stopped.

"Please stand by for shuttle bay pressurization," came the computer voice again.

After a few minutes, the voice came back, "Shuttle bay pressurized; please exit now."

Doors opened, as pressure valves released and spewed noise into the air. Systems remained on, but light streamed in through the doorway she had initially come through. She walked to the exit and looked out into the immense bay. Two of the strange friendly aliens were walking towards her. She stepped out the door and walked down the ramp. When she got to the bottom of the ramp, the two were waiting for her.

"Rubble gruble roffu romp, grifon rabin zapen fob," one of the aliens said to her. It sure sounded friendly, but she did not understand a single word of it. They reached out to help her off the ramp, but this time their touches were soft and warm.

"Schmigen lofen," it said again, holding her hand and pulling her along.

She followed. The three walked across the bay together and through some doors into a hallway. There, a third alien met them.

"Welcome aboard, Sahn. I hope your trip was pleasant."

"Yes, thank you," she said.

"My master has instructed me to be your guide, for the time being, until you're a little more settled and comfortable. My name is Marker."

"Are you a slave?" she asked, seeing he was an alien, and had referred to Frank as his master.

"Of course not, I'm a machine. These two however, are real, they are Nikki and Tia."

"Rubble rof glibol hamon."

"Nikki says she's pleased to meet you."

"Please tell her, I am happy to meet her too."

Greetings went on this way for a minute or two, and then Marker guided Sahn to the main dining room to get some food. Sahn was quick to sort through which foods she liked and which she did not. After lunch, she was given a tour of the ship, including the bridge, from where she saw the whole planet of Iskol and the three tiny Iskolian patroller craft. They looked so helpless against such a giant as this. Marker assured her that many of those little craft had attacked the ship she had rode up here in and did not even scratch it, though he did not give details as to how or why this could be. After a while, she was guided to a large, luxurious apartment, and told this is where she would be staying until her problem could be worked out. Marker left and explained he would be right outside if she needed anything.

She was in her room poking around when a 3-D imager came alive and started speaking to her.

"Hello Sahn, my name is Dyna. I'm the ship's main computer." The words came alive in the imager in Iskolian script, "Am I correct in understanding that you speak and read the Iskolian language?"

"Yes," Sahn answered, meekly, "I do."

"Very good. Let's begin our language lessons now. Please have a seat in front of the instructor-imager, and we'll get started."

Nine

Arrangements were made and Sahn's Father, Panc, was brought to Frank's Suite. The door chime indicated he had arrived.

"Open," Frank ordered the door.

The doors swung open, and standing there in the hallway, was a sad and wretched creature.

"Come in," Frank said.

The creature walked in disconsolately, eyes to the floor. "You asked for me, sir?" he asked.

"Your name is Panc?"

The slave was nervous. "It is, sir."

"You have a child—a daughter, named Sahn?"

The slave looked up in anticipation, then caught himself and averted his gaze. "I do, sir."

Frank allowed a momentary pause.

"Do you know about her, sir?" Panc finally asked.

"I do. And I'm certain you'd like to know about her also."

"I would, sir." he begged.

"She's fine. She's under my protection," Frank said.

"Where is she?" Panc asked.

"She's on my starship, high above the planet."

"Please take care of her. She is my only child, and I am certain she will be a perfect slave from now on."

"You misunderstand. She's no longer a slave. I've freed her."

"Freed her, sir?"

"Yes."

"But… how? Where will she go? How will she live?"

"I'll think of something. I just wanted you to know that she's alright and being taken care of."

"I am worried about her."

"Would you like to speak with her?"

"What? You can do this?" Panc wanted badly to see her one last time before she was gone forever.

"Of course. She's waiting to speak with you now. Look here," Frank said, pointing to the holograph set.

Panc looked into the set and saw his child standing there.

"Father?"

"Sahn!" he gasped.

"I'm alright, father. I wanted you to know that I'm sorry I didn't listen to you. If I had, I wouldn't be in this mess."

"It's alright, child. I miss you," he cried, "Everyone in my life is going away."

"Frank's going to help me, Father."

"Frank? Who's Frank."

"I'm Frank."

"Oh. Thank you. She is a good child."

"I'm sure she is."

"Father, I have to stay with them."

"Yes, yes. I don't know what to say. What will you do, now?"

"I don't know, Father. But I do feel very safe here. And these people—they care. I feel like I have a new family now. But I still miss you."

"I'm happy to know you're in safe hands, child."

"Father?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"I love you, Sahn." The image closed.

Frank allowed the moment as the slave dropped to his knees and wept, hands over his eyes. A minute later, he got up bravely.

"Forgive me," he asked.

"Quite alright," Frank said, "I'll do everything I can to help her."

"Thank you. You are most kind. I must leave now, if you have no further need of me, sir."

"You will see her again."

"Of course, sir," Panc said, noncommittally. He did not believe it, of course.

Panc left, and Frank now had to figure out how to meet with the slave named Tog. The meeting was to take place in a week and in broad daylight. They were to meet in a park.

Frank did not know if the Iskolians had read the message Sahn gave her, so he suspected the slave would be caught and killed if he went. He also expected the slave to be killed if he did not go. If the slave was willing to trade his life for this one meeting, Frank figured he could take the time to hear him out.

Frank and Maria went for a picnic in the park that afternoon. The trees and shrubs looked a little odd, but they were green, and the turf looked almost like Earth grass. This gave him an opportunity to look over the area before his meeting with Tog, and also to get the Iskolians used to seeing him come here.

Lord Traaka could not understand why anyone would take food outdoors and eat it, when they could more easily eat at home. Frank explained that it was an Earth custom.

Frank made it a habit to go to the park for a picnic every afternoon, in the same spot near a tree. At first, a crowd of Iskolians gathered to watch the odd scene—entranced by the strange alien ritual. But after the third day, the crowd no longer gathered. Either they had gotten over the novelty of seeing it, or they had been told not to. Frank was certain they were being watched every moment, though he had not seen any sign of it. Trong and Mangle escorted them but never detected any spying devices. Perhaps that was a tribute to Iskolian technology, or perhaps they were not watching him. Frank was certain of the former.

On the day of the expected meeting, Frank and Maria went to their favorite spot near the tree, laid out the blanket and food, and ate.

Trong immediately spotted a reader disc in the grassy turf and informed Frank about it on the encrypted laser com.

Frank told Trong to read and destroy it without looking suspicious while doing do.

It was Spydre who finally popped out at high speed, analyzed and read the disc, and slipped back into its compartment. This was done at a speed fast enough that Frank heard a pop, but saw nothing. Trong then destroyed it with an invisible laser burst, and reported the job completed.

The contents of the message explained that there were too many "Listeners" and the meeting would be held in an apparel store instead. Frank was to browse for a while, moving toward the back of the store. When he was there, he would be shown what to do next.

"I'm very interested in a certain type of fabric they have on Iskol, and I'd like to have a suit made, Maria. Would you care to join me at the tailor?"

"I'd love to." They're acting was terrible.

"We'll do it right after lunch."

"Okay."

They finished eating and, leaving the park, went for a stroll in the city following the instructions on the disc. Arriving at the apparel store, they walked in and saw all types of Iskolian clothing. It was a small store run by slaves. There were two customers in the store, both Iskolian, but when they saw Frank and Maria walk in with Trong and Mangle, they lost interest in clothing and left. Two slaves were operating the store, and one of them approached Frank.

"May I help you with anything." Frank decided that the problem of having a salesperson around asking if they could help you, when you did not want any was a universal problem. He wondered if, ten minutes from now, when he wanted some help, anyone would be around.

"No, thank you. Just browsing." They were browsing. Iskolians would be arrested by the fashion-police if they wore these clothes on Earth. It was interesting to see the styles, however.

Frank dodged the sales/slave girl and continued inching his way toward the back of the store. Maria browsed and, Frank worried, looked like she was actually going to buy something.

Another Iskolian walked into the store, saw Trong and Mangle, politely pretended to look at something and walked out again in a nonchalant hurry.

Frank made it to the back of the store and wanted to inquire about custom tailoring, but no one was around. The old saying, it seemed, was true everywhere in the galaxy. "Hello," he called to the back, "hello." The sales/slave girl appeared again. "Hello," she said.

"I'm interested in having a custom suit made. Can you do that here?"

"Yes, we can. But we don't get many orders from off-worlders. Let me get Clung. He can help you." She went into the back again.

A few moments later, a male slave came through the door and approached him. "Shuma tells me you'd like to have a custom suit made," the slave said.

"That's right."

"I'll have to measure you. Would you come in the back, please?"

"Sure." Frank followed the slave/tailor into the back room, and Trong followed.

"He must stay out there," the slave said.

"Trong, wait by the door."

"Compliance, sir. This is inadvisable." Trong went back out.

"This way, follow me, quickly," the slave said, taking Frank's measurements as they moved.

Arriving at the back of the storeroom, the slave called "Clung" moved several bolts of fabric around, hurriedly uncovering a floor hatch. He opened it and pointed.

"There. They're waiting for you. Hurry," he said.

Frank hesitated for a moment, then reluctantly climbed down the ladder into the hole. Reaching the bottom, a voice came out of the dark.

"Are you Frank Jameson?" It was dark and he could barely see where the voice came from.

"I am."

"Follow me, please." The slave moved through the tunnel quickly. Frank had to run to keep up.

He followed the slave for a couple minutes through winding tunnels and passageways. The slave finally stopped in front of the doorway to a room.

"Here," the slave said, pointing into the room.

Frank walked forward next to the slave and peered into the dimly lit room, seeing three slaves sitting on a floor mat, waiting for him. He stepped into the small room, crouching for the low ceiling as he did so, and sat on the floor mat, thereby completing the circle. Two of the slaves stared at him through the dim light as though he were a ghost.

"Are you Frank Jameson?" the third asked.

"I am."

"I am Tog," the slave explained, "The slave 'Sahn,’ they say you have taken her. Is this so?"

"Yes. Is this what you brought me here for."

"No. I was only concerned for her. This meeting is about the slave rebellion and about you."

"What about me?"

"You are the Chosen One. You will lead our people to freedom."

"I've told Sahn, and now I'll tell you; I am not the one you seek."

"Then explain this," Tog said as he pulled up an animal skin and showed Frank the image painted on it.

The image was old and faded, but Frank saw an unmistakable image of himself on it.

"It looks like me," Frank said, noncommittally.

"It is a drawing of the Chosen One. It is a drawing of you," Tog said.

"It could have been done yesterday," Frank argued, realizing it was a poor argument. It was obviously much older than the time Frank had been on Iskol.

"I know you don't believe that."

"Okay. Then where'd you get it?"

"I drew it long ago-on my home world. I was a follower of Great Shaman Gronk. He drew a likeness of the Chosen One and I copied it on this animal skin. Later I was captured, brought to this world and made into a slave. I've kept this with me ever since, hoping against hope that you would come here in my lifetime."

"I assure you, I don't know anything about this. I'm not your 'Chosen One',"

"Then we are lost and there's no hope for us." The slave looked shattered and helpless. The other two looked equally in despair.

"I'm sorry," Frank said, "I can't help you." He felt ashamed. The pause filled the air with quiet.

"I must admit I'm curious about this, though," he said, and the slaves' eyes brightened. "I'd like to meet this 'shaman' of yours and find out where he got a likeness of me."

"You must!" the slave replied, "I beg you. I cannot speak the words with his power. But when he talks, his words are true, and you will be convinced. All the prophecies are being fulfilled—we know you are the One."

"I'll look into it. But I have business to finish here first," Frank said, remembering he was waiting to make sure his spybot network was established before he left.

"How will we know this."

"I give you my word."

"Your word?"

"Would your real 'Chosen One' lie to you. If I don't go, then I'm obviously not the one." Frank's reason was irrefutable.

"I accept your promise," Tog relented. "You must leave now. If you're here too long, the Listeners will be suspicious."

"Who are these 'listeners'?" Frank asked.

"Drolmian spies that look like us. The Iskolians hire them to keep watch over us—to make sure we don't rise up and revolt. It's easy to tell us apart; we have blood and they don't. Also, they have a bad habit of sucking their toes. When you see one, you can't tell without doing this," Tog pulled a knife out and stuck the sharply pointed tip into the heel of his hand. A small stream of dark red blood flowed from the new wound.

The other two slaves drew knives and did likewise, proving who they were.

"A Drolmian cannot do this," Tog said, holding his hand out, allowing the blood to drip onto the floor mat.

"I'd better go before your friend up there gets in trouble," Frank said.

"Uunta be with you."

"What?" Frank asked, walking out the door.

"Hurry," Tog replied.

"This way," the slave standing by the door said.

A few minutes later, Frank was back in the front room of the little apparel shop. Maria had made a purchase of some odd looking clothing, and was ready to leave.

"Your suit will be ready in three days, sir," Clung said to him as he left.

The foursome left the store and headed back toward the Imperial Palace on foot.

"Did you pay for those?" Frank asked Maria.

"Of course," Maria replied.

"With what?"

"Haven't you ever heard of credit?"

Ten

Frank was still waiting to hear if the spybot network was up and running. He was tired of Iskol with its puritanical pleasantries and shameful slave trade. As soon as he received word that the network was active, he would leave. He would, as promised, go to the slave-planet, Relm, and investigate the 'chosen one' mystery.

The Iskolians did not mind his extended stay, and even encouraged it. He hoped he would not have any trouble when he left.

He was into his third week on the planet in his second visit and a week after the meeting with the slave "Tog", when Lord Traaka came to his suite.

It was early afternoon, and Frank and Maria and just awaked after another all night dinner reception.

"Please forgive this early intrusion, Frank Jameson," Lord Traaka began.

"Please come in and make yourself comfortable, Lord Traaka. Would you care for anything," Frank responded, courteously.

"I'm afraid I'm not here on a social call this time, my friend. Today I'm here on business."

"Oh? What sort of business?" Frank was curious about this.

"You've been subpoenaed as a witness to the hall of courts by Lord Wellum. The Emperor sends his deepest regrets that he's unable to intervene in this matter, since Iskolian law forbids him from doing so. The Emperor does, however, have the authority to prevent enforcement of the subpoena, so if you wish, you needn't go."

Frank was flabbergasted. Him? A witness?

"They want me as a witness?"

"Yes."

"For what?"

"I'm not privy to that information."

"Is it a trial?"

"I don't know, but I suspect it is."

"When is it?"

"Tomorrow morning. If you wish to attend, escorts will be provided to take you there. If you wish not, then you need not."

"I'll go. I don't mind."

"Very good. I'll inform the Emperor and Lord Wellum that you'll be there. The escorts will be here early, waiting for you. Here is the time and place to be," Lord Traaka said, as he served Frank the subpoena, which was a dime-sized disc.

"Okay."

"Good day, Frank Jameson."

"Good day."

Lord Traaka left and Frank loaded the disc into the reader to examine it. It basically ordered Frank to appear before the Imperial Magistrate, to give testimony at the time and date indicated.

"You're going?" Maria asked him.

"Sure, why not? I'm going more out of curiosity than anything else. I can't imagine what they'd want me to testify about."

"I suspect that, if you don't know, you're probably in for a shock."

"Maybe. But in the interest of diplomacy, I think I should go anyway." Maria was dressed and heading out the door with Mangle.

"Where're you going?" Frank asked.

"To do some more shopping," Maria answered, as though Frank had asked the silliest question.

"Where are you getting all the money?" Frank asked incredulously.

"From you, my darling. You're very wealthy, you know."

"I am?"

"Of course. They have trading markets here like anywhere else. Dyna's been trading stocks in your name since we arrived. Didn't you know?"

"No. But I don't have any excuses. I told her she could. But I thought she was only doing that back on Earth."

"Why would you want to keep all your eggs in one basket? Dyna would tell you to play it safe and diversify. Bye." Maria left.

The next morning Frank awoke early for the trial. After breakfast he opened the door and found several Iskolians waiting outside it. They had not used the door chime or intruded in any way. They had just been there—waiting, for Frank did not know how long. He and Trong stepped out and they greeted him.

"Frank Jameson?"

"Yes?"

"I am Gedibeh, your legal representative. My law firm handles your financial accounts, and sent me to represent you in this matter," the Iskolian lawyer said, "We prefer to see that our clients get the best representation available. Shall we go?"

"Sure," Frank said, confused.

They boarded the Imperial hover-car and headed for the exit.

"Who are the rest of these?" Frank asked Gedibeh.

"They're your imperial escorts, of course. They'll show you they way to the courtroom. I'll show you the way when we're in the courtroom."

They arrived at the Hall of Courts early, went in, and were seated. Trong stood guard inside the entrance to the courtroom.

"The Imperial Slave Court, Imperial SubMagistrate Eanetrexe presiding, is in session. The defendant will enter. The court is advised that all witnesses and evidence are present."

At once, Frank realized what this was all about. His suspicions were confirmed when he saw the slave called Tog brought in bound, and under heavy guard. Frank had no desire to testify against this slave. But it was too late. He had already agreed to come here and testify.

"I do not wish to testify against this defendant," he whispered to his lawyer.

"No problem," the Iskolian lawyer whispered back, "I think I can get you out of it."

"Try," Frank insisted.

Frank looked around the courtroom as the trial proceedings opened and recognized Lord Wellum in the room. He appeared stern and confident.

"What's he doing here?" Frank asked Gedibeh.

"He's the head of the ISS—Imperial Slave Security. The slave being tried here today is the most dangerous one on Iskol. He's the head of the slave rebellion. They've been trying to catch him for a long time. There's a great deal of evidence and testimony against him, but they'll only try him enough to get the death penalty. It won't take long."

"What's his crime?"

"Murder. But they won't try him for that. They can't prove it in the court. Too much protection under the law. They'll find him guilty of sedition. That's sufficient for the death penalty."

The first witness was another slave.

"Please state your name," the prosecutor asked.

"Loongta," the slave answered.

Frank recognized this slave from his meeting with Tog.

"What is your occupation?"

"I'm an undercover investigator for the ISS. I'm a Drolmian."

It was not a slave! But how? Frank saw the alien pierce its skin and draw blood with a knife. Tog had insisted that Drolmians could not do that.

The testimony went on for a while. Tog looked up and saw Frank sitting in the courtroom. Frank saw that Tog had the look of resolve on his face. He was ready to die for his cause. The testimony went on.

"And do you see that person in this courtroom?"

"Yes."

"Point to him, please."

The Drolmian pointed at Frank, and everyone in the room looked at him.

"He is the one the slaves call the 'Chosen One'?"

"Yes."

"What is the 'Chosen One' supposed to do?"

"Lead the Relmish slaves to freedom by violent rebellion."

Frank was enraged. He had heard nothing of any call to violence. The trial went on.

"… and what were the defendant's exact words?"

"He said, 'I'm the leader of the slave rebellion'."

"Honorable Magistrate, I present to you, evidence in support of this testimony, Exhibit 19, which is a record of this conversation. The court investigators have examined the record, and found it in compliance with the anti-tampering regulations.

Frank watched as a holographic projection of his meeting was played through in its entirety. Then the defendant showed how the Drolmian was able to fool the rebel slaves in the test of blood. It turned out to be a hollowed-out knife, containing a special liquid the color of blood. When the knife was held in a special way, the liquid would come out through the end. The Drolmian had to actually cut himself to make it look real, but blood-colored liquid came from the knife-tip itself. Then the liquid would fill the wound, a real wound, and eventually make it look like a Relmish scar as it healed. The error the Relmish had made was to allow each rebel cut himself with his own knife. This was a closely guarded ISS secret. But Tog would not live long enough to tell his comrades about it.

The witness was cross-examined and eventually his testimony was finished. Frank was called next.

"Honorable Magistrate," Gedibeh called, standing.

"State your name and business."

"I am Gedibeh, legal representative to the witness Frank Jameson."

"What is your relevancy?" the judge said, dully.

"I invoke the Law of Courts under the auspices of Favorable Passage in the name of my client."

"What are your basis'?"

"Ambassadorial status in the Law of Courts under Truth of Witness, and Objectability in Favorable Passages."

"One moment…" the judge looked at something hidden on top of his desk, fiddled with something, and spoke again.

"Ambassadorial status is confirmed by the Head of States, but Objectability is undetermined. Can you show this?" The judge was unperturbed.

"I can, Magistrate."

"Get on with it."

Whatever Frank's lawyer had said had turned Lord Wellum a different color. Frank guessed that Lord Wellum was furious about this.

"Take the stand," Gedibeh said to Frank.

Frank was a little uncertain of what was expected of him, but went to the witness chair and sat down anyway.

Gedibeh asked the first question, "State your name please."

"Frank Jameson."

"Do you firmly believe in and support the freedom of individuals of all sentient races and species?"

"I do," Frank answered.

"Do you denounce all forms of captivity of sentient races and species for purposes of permanent servitude, slavery or thralldom?"

"I do."

"Did you recently take into possession one female slave named 'Sahn’?"

"Yes."

"The slave was a gift. Was it not?"

"She was." Frank tried to figure out was his lawyer was up to. Whatever it was, he had done his homework.

"What were the first words you said to this slave?"

"I said, 'You're free.' to her."

"And did you free her?"

"I've given her free choice in her life decisions."

"Did you free her?" Gedibeh asked again.

"Yes."

"Thank you. Your witness."

The prosecutor arose from his seat and approached Frank.

"Frank Jameson, you've just stated that you accepted a slave into your ownership, and then set her free. Where is this slave, now?"

"There is no slave. The Relmish person Sahn is on my starship above the planet."

"With you, then?"

"Yes," Frank answered.

"When you set this slave free, how did you do it?"

"I gave her choices."

"What sort of choices?"

"I've offered her free transport to any place she chooses."

"Has she chosen a place?"

"No."

"Very convenient."

"Rule of Courts, Magistrate," Gedibeh interrupted.

"Carried," the judge agreed.

"Forgive me, Magistrate," the prosecutor continued, "Does the slave work now?"

"Rule of Courts, Magistrate; Contradictions." Gedibeh interrupted again.

"Carried."

"Let me re-phrase. Does the… Relmish person work now?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"Aboard my starship."

"Do you pay her?"

"No, I don't."

"I submit then, under the lawful definitions of servitude and thralldom, that this Relmish person is still a slave, and you are her owner." the prosecutor proclaimed.

"No, she isn't, she works—"

"As do all the people aboard your starship."

"No, they don't! None of them do!"

"I understand there are nine females of your species that travel with you. Is that correct?"

"Yes."

"Do you pay them?"

"Of course not. They're with me by choice."

"Do they work for you?"

"By choice, yes."

"Yes or no?"

"Yes." The prosecutor had also done his homework. What were they trying to establish here, Frank wondered?

"Then I submit that not only did you acquire the female Relmish person for use as a slave, but also you came to this planet in ownership of nine other slaves to begin with."

"That's not true—"

"And then you came into this courtroom and had the gall to insist that you completely denounce all forms of servitude and thralldom. How do you account for yourself."

"These people work for themselves. No one is forced to work."

"A moment ago you told me they work for you."

"They do so of their own free will."

"Do they? We only have your word on that."

"Truth of Witness, Magistrate," Gedibeh insisted.

"Denied. Not yet proven," the Magistrate disagreed.

"I have no further questions for this witness, Magistrate," the prosecutor said.

"Counsel, you've failed to prove your case," the Magistrate said, "can you present any other arguments?"

"I can, Magistrate. I invoke Truth in Testimony and have two more witnesses," Gedibeh replied.

"Carried. Please proceed."

"I call the witness 'Maria Volterra'."

Frank looked around to see Maria sitting at the back of the courtroom and Sahn sitting next to her. They both waved and smiled at him. He waved back, somewhat confused. Mangle was standing next to Trong at the entrance to the courtroom, and now a third warbot, apparently Sahn's escort, was with them.

Maria took the stand and Gedibeh questioned her.

"Do you work for Frank Jameson?"

"I do."

"What is your relationship with him?"

"I am a crewmember aboard his vessel and one of his consorts."

"Are the eight other females of your species, aboard his starship also his consorts?"

"Yes, they are."

"Are you remunerated for the work you do for Frank Jameson?"

"No."

"Then why do you work for him?"

"Out of love, mostly. But also for the knowledge and experience that he offers me."

"Are you forced to do any work?"

"Of course not."

"Can you leave him at any time you desire?"

"Yes. I wouldn't want to right now, but if I chose, he'd return me to my home as early as he could."

"Then you're not a slave or servant to him?"

"No, absolutely not."

"On your world, is it a traditional and acceptable condition to have consorts and not make monetary compensation."

"Yes, it is. Ordinarily, though, the male is expected to provide support and security for his female, though it's common to have it the other way around," Maria answered.

"Then does Frank Jameson also work for you?"

"Yes, he does."

"Then you have a mutual agreement to work for one another without monetary compensation, and you're not bound permanently in this agreement?"

"That is correct."

"I have no further questions for this witness, Magistrate. I invoke the Rule of Special Conditions for Aliens for Conjugal Relations, and submit to the court that this person is not, in fact, a servant, slave or thrall," Gedibeh explained.

"I have no questions for this witness, Magistrate," the prosecutor said.

"Very good. The court accepts the supporting testimony and agrees to Objectability in Favorable Passages, with regards to the Terran females that are consort to the primary witness. You've yet to show that the Relmish female is not a slave, Gedibeh."

"Yes, Magistrate. I call 'Sahn' to witness and give testimony." Frank watched as Sahn walked down and took the witness chair.

"Please state your name."

"I am Sahn of Relm."

"What is your occupation, Sahn?"

"I have no occupation right now."

"Sahn, are you aware that under Rule of Courts, a slave may testify against his master, and subsequently has the right to select a new master?"

"I am aware of this rule, sir."

"Then you know you have nothing to fear from testifying against him?"

"Yes, I know," Sahn replied.

"What was your previous occupation?"

"I was an Imperial Slave. I was a kitchen servant in the Imperial Palace."

"And how did you come to know Frank Jameson?"

"The Emperor gave me to him as a gift."

"And what did Frank Jameson say to you just as he received you as a, gift?"

"He said, 'You're free."'

"How did you respond?"

"I begged him to keep me as his slave."

"Why?"

"Because I had nowhere to go. There is no place I know of where I can be free and still be with my own kind."

"And what was his response?"

"He refused to keep me as his slave, but said that he would protect, house and feed me until my problem could be resolved."

"Then you're not his slave, thrall or servant in any way."

"No, I'm not."

"Do you work for him?"

"I do."

"Why?"

"I am thankful for his help," Sahn responded.

"Does he require you to work, or make any demands on you?"

"No, none."

"I have no more questions for this witness, Magistrate," Gedibeh announced, "And submit to the court that my client is proven and supported in Truth of Witness and Objectability in Favorable Passages."

"The prosecution has no questions for this witness at the present time, Magistrate, but asks the court for issuance of subpoena for the Relmish person 'Sahn' as a primary witness."

"Rule of Courts, Magistrate," Gedibeh declared, "the witness is subpoenaed to support testimony of a primary witness, not as a primary witness."

"Carried, but subpoena is forthwith issued. The person will be subpoenaed as a primary witness, the officer of the court will deliver it immediately," the judge ordered.

"Rule of Courts, Magistrate. The person 'Sahn' has entered unto the court under the rules of protection for Initial Conditions."

"Initial Conditions?" the prosecutor questioned.

"Yes. The secondary witness, Sahn, is no longer a resident or possession of this world and has the right to decline the subpoena."

"But under Iskolian Law the starship in which she now resides in Iskolian-controlled space, and as such, Initial Conditions do not hold," the prosecutor insisted.

"The rules of Initial Conditions are set up under Galactic Treaty which sets a much lower limit, Magistrate," Gedibeh responded.

During this time, the judge was busy with something on top of his desk. Apparently he was trying to access computer information which verified either of the arguments. He finally gave his answer.

"Rule of Protection under Initial Conditions is carried," the judge ordered, "The person Sahn has the right to decline the subpoena."

"Magistrate."

"Gedibeh?"

"My client wishes to consult with me. I request a short recess."

"So ordered. The court will wait for you to return."

Frank, Maria, Sahn and Gedibeh stepped out of the courtroom, along with their respective protectors.

"Everything is arranged Frank Jameson. It is now up to you and Sahn whether the rebellious slave Tog lives or dies. If either of you testifies, the court and the prosecutor will have sufficient evidence and testimony to have him put to death. As it stands now, they have enough to send him to work in the deep mines for the remainder of his life. What is your wish, Frank Jameson?"

"I wish to have him spared," Frank answered.

"And you Sahn?"

"I do not wish him to die."

Frank could tell the lawyer did not like doing this.

"You do realize this slave is a murderer?"

"That's not proven yet," Frank answered.

"As you wish. We have no desire to displease our clients. At any rate, after a few days in the deep mines, he'll wish they'd killed him. Here is what you must do then; Sahn, you will decline the subpoena. That is your right. You won't be made to testify. Frank Jameson, the court will shortly grant you Objectability in Favorable Passages."

"What does that mean?" Frank asked, confused.

"It means that you will have to take the witness stand and testify, but you don't have to answer any question you don't want to. Your best bet is to refuse to answer any and all questions. You will be legally allowed to do this. Once you're there, I can't help you. It'll all be up to the slave's defense representative to ask the right questions. If he's smart, he won't ask any."

They went back into the courtroom and sat down.

"If everyone is prepared?"

Gedibeh, the prosecutor and the defense nodded.

"This court rules that the Primary Witness, Frank Jameson shall be granted Objectability in Favorable Passages and Truth of Witness," the judge announced.

Gedibeh looked at Frank smugly.

"The prosecutor will continue."

"I call to the stand, Primary Witness Frank Jameson." Frank went up and took the stand again.

"Please state your name."

"Frank Jameson."

"Frank Jameson, have you ever before seen that slave?" the prosecutor asked, pointing at Tog.

"I decline to answer the question," Frank answered, and the courtroom filled with murmuring. Frank saw Lord Wellum and could tell he was holding back rage.

The prosecutor was unabated. "Do you recognize the events precipitated within this image?" The holographic image of the meeting between him and Tog was played back again.

"I decline to answer the question," Frank said, again.

"Were you ever in this store?" An image of the store he and Maria had gone into was shown, with him and Maria walking into it.

"I decline to answer the question."

"Do you deny that this is an image of yourself?" the prosecutor asked, pointing to the image of Frank in the holograph.

"I decline to answer the question," Frank held.

"Magistrate, the witness has declined all of my questions, and I presume he will continue to do so. It is an unexpected situation in my presentation, and the court will forgive me for not fulfilling the requisites for a Class I conviction. Consequently, I hereby ask the court for a change of Intent to Prosecute for a Class II conviction."

"Granted. Does the defense wish to cross-examine the witness?"

"No, Magistrate," Tog's lawyer replied.

"Are there any further witnesses?"

"No."

"No."

"Any further evidence?"

"None, Magistrate."

"No."

"Closing arguments, please."

The closing arguments were brief, but intense. The prosecuting lawyer argued that because Frank was partial to the cause of the slaves, his testimony was biased, and if Frank had testified, he would have sufficient proof for a Class I conviction. As such, he insisted the court apply the fullest amount of punishment the law would allow under Class II.

The defending lawyer argued that Class II evidence and testimony could have been ill gotten. The holograms could have been electronically manufactured, even with the best security measures, and the Drolmian's testimony was unsupported and he could have lied. So he asked the court for leniency under Class II.

The judge gave it a few minutes thought and then rendered his decision.

"The accused will stand before the court."

Tog rose and walked in front of the bench, his guard escorting him.

"Slave Tog, this court finds you guilty of sedition. I hereby sentence you, under the rules of a Class II conviction, receive four hundred lashes, in increments of fifty per healing, and you will work for the remainder of your life in the Deep Mines of Ecrorin."

The courtroom was filled with murmuring again.

"That's the maximum sentence," Gedibeh told Frank.

Lord Wellum left immediately with two of his aides. Frank could tell he was roiling.

"It's been a pleasure serving you, Frank Jameson," Gedibeh said, "And remember, only the best for our clients. The Imperial escorts will see you back to the Palace. I've other business to attend to, if you'll excuse me."

"Certainly," Frank responded, "Thanks."

Frank was not certain about what he had just done. If Tog was truly a murderer, then the death penalty might be justly served, he felt. But if he was not, then the penalty for sedition seemed awfully harsh. At any rate, he had done his best to do what he thought was best, and he was satisfied with the results.

He and Maria followed their escorts back to the Imperial Palace and their suite. That afternoon, they had lunch at their favorite picnic spot.

That evening there was another small dinner reception. Frank and Maria both attended but left early.

Arriving at their suite, Suni contacted Frank and informed him of the spybot network's progress.

"We have fifty-one spybots, mostly Iskolian, built and operating," Suni explained, "and it's building twelve more each day."

"That's great," Frank said, pleased, "Soon we can get off this planet and move on."

"What are we waiting for?" Suni quizzed him.

"To make sure there're no defects. Make sure they're working alright and not getting found out."

"Oh. Well, anyway, several of them already have low-level government jobs and are doing fine. We're getting access to quite a lot of information, but most of it's just the mechanics of the system. Once they learn how to work it, they'll get into some higher-up positions."

"How long will that take?"

"We expect it to be a week or two before we get access to any kind of classified data."

"Wow, that soon?"

"It would be sooner, but they're having problems with their legal documents. As you know, everything is put on the micro-discs, and we haven't quite mastered some of the subtler features of that storage technology. But we're getting there."

"Keep up the good work, Suni, and let me know if anything goes wrong."

"Sure, Frank. Bye."

The week went by without incident, and Frank was notified that one of the spybots had finally made it into a supervisory position in the Imperial Security Force.

The next day, Maria went out to look around the little stores again and do some more shopping. Mangle went with her. Two hours later, Frank was contacted by Suni, and told of a plot by the Iskolians to kidnap Maria. The spybots had uncovered the plan. Maria had been notified but she was presently being abducted.

Maria was browsing in a novelty store when she was approached by the slave/salesperson.

"Please," the slave appealed, "You're the one who saved Sahn and Tog? Can you help me? There is something you must see."

"I'm not the one who saved them, but if I can help, I'll be happy to," Maria replied.

"Follow me please," the slave asked, heading for the back of the store. Maria and Mangle followed.

The slave halted, looking at Mangle. "Your servant—I'm fearful of it. Can it remain here?"

"Mangle is my escort. He won't hurt you, I promise."

"Still, please," the slave insisted.

"Alright. Mangle, remain here until I return or call you."

"Compliance," Mangle answered. "I recommend against this action."

"I'll be fine."

The slave led Maria through the back and into a small storeroom where he found a hatchway in the floor. He climbed down through the hatch and Maria, shortly, followed. When Maria got to the bottom of the step she found herself in a dimly lit passageway, obviously underground.

"This way," the slave said, "we must hurry." And the slave started running.

Maria had to run through the dark corridors to keep up with the slave. She passed several dark passages, but she was running so fast, she did not have time to stop and look into them.

A call came in over the microset.

"Maria, this is Suni. You're in danger. You've got to get out of there!"

"What?" Maria stopped running.

"We've uncovered an Iskolian plot to abduct you. This is it. You've got to run away! Mangle is on the way. I'm sending more help right now," Suni answered.

"Mangle, come to me. Hurry!" Maria called on her microset.

Maria turned back to run away, but it was too late. Two low-built, wide, scaly-looking aliens blocked her retreat. She looked the other way and there were three more. All the aliens carried heavy weapons. Maria made up her mind quickly, and ran madly toward the two aliens blocking her retreat. As she approached, they stopped advancing and blocked her. She lunged at them and swung with her fist. Maria saw one of them hit the wall and go down, but the other was behind her and had her locked up.

Her skin suit magnified her strength as she tore away from the vise-like grip the alien had on her. Then she picked the beast up and threw it.

By then, the other three were already on her and had her pinned down. The alien that she had slugged had gotten up and was now also helping. Four of them picked her up, though she struggled, and carried her through the corridor. One of them shrieked and turned to fire its weapon. Another stopped and fired its weapon. The tunnel became a thundering reverberator, as weapons fired and aliens yelled. Two stood off whatever was coming while the three carried Maria off, screaming.

Maria looked back to see they were shooting at a blur. She barely made out that it was Mangle moving at supersonic speed. He was on the attackers in a millisecond. The two lay dead but Mangle was severely damaged by the weapons fire.

Now the three abductors carrying Maria dropped her and retreated, returning fire as they ran. Mangle was slowed by the damage but still caught up with two more, jumping over Maria, who was lying on the ground, to get to them. Green alien blood spattered everywhere as Mangle tore up Maria's attackers. Mangle was covered with it.

There was a shout in alien tongue. The last alien jumped for cover. Behind him was the slave, carrying a large, heavy weapon. He aimed the weapon at Mangle and fired. The roar of the blast was deafening in the restricted corridors as Mangle was thrown past Maria. She looked around to see that Mangle was down and disabled.

The alien got up and aimed its weapon at Maria and fired. The blast punctured her skin suit and pain ripped through her left shoulder as the alien, failing its target, aimed to fire again.

A small arms blast came from behind her and the alien went down. Maria looked back to see an Iskolian running to her rescue. She looked around and saw that the slave had leveled his heavy weapon on her and prepared to fire it.

A shadow leapt over her and dived. A searing blast of heat, noise and shrapnel swept over her as she squirmed around to protect the opening in her skinsuit.

She turned to see that the Iskolian had been a spybot. The slave still stood there and aimed at Maria once again. She looked on, waiting for the inevitable, but the alien exploded as fire was released from behind her. She turned to see five heavily armed warbots speeding towards her. Then five more warbots occupied the spot where the slave had been standing. They came to her.

"Medical assistance is on the way. Please lie still and remain calm," the warbot said, comfortingly.

Maria remained conscious long enough for the medbot to reach her. A hundred tiny arms reached out to gently pick her up and place her into a floating surgical bot, where surgery and sterilization began immediately. She saw outside the box, through the glass that workbots had arrived and were digging through the ceiling of the cave at a remarkable rate. A hole opened up and sunlight shined through. A moment later the hole was shadowed by something large.

Maria was carried to the hole, but looked back in time to see Iskolian police arriving at the scene. The warbots blocked their way and refused to allow them passage. Workbots were picking up the pieces left behind, which used to be Mangle and the Iskolbot.

The shadow over the hole turned out to be the shuttle, brought in to carry her back to the Butterworth.

"Safe," she said to herself, and promptly fell to sleep.

Eleven

Frank surveyed the wreckage and dead bodies that Mangle and the other warbots had produced. Mangle had done a thorough job. The brown, stout, scaly aliens were torn apart, limbs lying about in disarray, green alien blood spattered over the walls and left in puddles on the floor. Frank stepped over the bodies to inspect that of the slave spy.

"It is Drolmian," the spybot reported. "No blood, only debris."

The workbots had finished removing the remains of Mangle and the Iskolbot, and Frank ordered that the Iskolian patrollers be allowed in to investigate.

"Frank Jameson?" someone called him.

He turned. "Yes," he answered.

It was the Chief Patroller. "Please accept our deepest apologies for this grave misfortune. I hope your crewmate wasn't injured too badly," he said. Then the patroller looked around and saw the devastation around him. "Great gods of Iskol! What happened here?" he asked, shocked. "How can this happen? These are Okofani warriors! And weapons! What are they doing here? What could do this to them?" The patroller had lots of questions. And so did Frank.

"How's Maria doing, Suni?" Frank called over the microset secure channel.

"Still in surgery, Frank. Dyna says she was hurt pretty badly. Whatever it was that hit her nearly severed her arm at the shoulder. The worst damage is from internal burns. Her flesh has been seared all the way through. Dyna will try to help her grow new flesh. She'll be recuperating for a while."

"Do the spybots have anything yet on the culprit?" Frank asked.

"They only know it's someone high up in the government."

Frank had an idea who that someone might be.

That afternoon, Frank got hold of Lord Traaka and requested an audience with the Emperor. Later that day Frank received word from Lord Traaka that the request had been granted. He was to meet with the Emperor on the following day. That evening Paddy contacted him again.

"We have some more information from the spybots. This one's hot—top secret. You mustn't reveal that you know it, or you'll blow Net's cover." 'Net' was the word they now used for the spybot network. "The one who planned and instigated the attempted abduction was none other than Lord Wellum himself. We don't know whether he was operating on his own or had orders from higher up."

Frank's anger built inside him. Maria would be scarred for life, and he vowed that Wellum would pay for it.

"Actually, this is the small potatoes," Paddy continued, "we have it on good word that a fleet of Okofani warships is headed this way, and is due to arrive any time. They expect to engage us in battle when they arrive."

"Okofani warships?" Frank said, "Do they know how many?"

"Thirty-eight," Paddy replied. "And analysis of their hand-held weapons indicates that this represents a clear danger to us and our ship. We can't handle them, Frank. Suni recommends we pull out immediately."

"What do you say, Paddy?"

"I think, if worse comes to worse, we can always outrun them."

"Based on what?"

"Based on the fact that the planet Okofa is only twenty-four light-years and it's taking them thirty-five days to get here. At that rate, their speed must about two hundred and fifty c.

"But Suni still says we should leave?"

"She says it'd be a good precautionary measure not to have to outrun anybody."

"I see. Well, I have one more meeting to attend tomorrow. Then we'll discuss leaving this planet."

"Sure, Frank. By the way, we've decided to triple your escort. Crush and Batter will be joining Trong."

"Okay, thanks."

"Least we could do, love."

The next day, Frank attended the audience with the Emperor. Lords Traaka and Wellum both escorted him and his three warbots to the hearing chamber.

"Your escorts must remain outside," Lord Wellum explained.

"I'll leave two of them here," Frank answered. "The third is my personal escort and must come with me."

"We won't allow any of them into the Emperor's chambers. We've seen what your 'escorts' can do."

"Two days ago I would've agreed with you, Wellum." Lord Wellum grimaced when Frank intentionally left off the lord's title. Frank could tell he was furious. "But after the attack on my shipmate yesterday, I'm not taking any chances. I suggest you explain this to the Emperor and let him decide."

"Very well." Lord Wellum went into the Emperor’s hearing chamber and returned a few minutes later.

"The Emperor has agreed to allow you one escort," Lord Wellum explained.

"Thank you," Frank said in a nasty tone.

The four walked through the archway into the giant hearing chamber. The room was easily a hundred meters wide, two hundred meters long and the ceiling rose a hundred meters above them. The Emperor himself sat upon a large throne of gold, set above the heads of those around him. The walls were lined with the Imperial Guard, and above them were beautiful holographic mosaics that covered entire walls. Again, light filled the room from unseen sources, which Frank now knew, came from the walls themselves. Around the floor of the chamber were statesmen and royalty, gathered in groups, apparently having discussions. The Emperor was presently in audience with another group. A plush blue carpet, five meters wide, lay before them at the entrance of the chamber and led straight to the throne.

Frank and Lord Wellum led the way, Trong and Lord Traaka following. When they were within twenty meters of the throne, guards barred their way. Frank and Lord Wellum stopped and waited. The Emperor was engaged in conversation with foreign diplomats.

Frank looked around at the various groups in the room. He could tell from the looks he was getting, that many of them were upset by his presence.

"Who are these people?" Frank asked.

"They're all here for an audience with the Emperor," Lord Wellum replied.

"Why are they looking at me like I just killed their mothers?"

"Many of them have been waiting weeks to speak with the Emperor. Some have waited for months. Most of them arrived early in the morning and have been here all day."

"When will I see him?"

"You're next."

Frank's turn to see the Emperor came fifteen minutes later. Frank and Lord Wellum approached the throne and bowed from the waist.

"I am most grateful that you would see me so soon, your highness," Frank greeted.

"Friend, Frank Jameson. How is my favorite Terran this fine day?" the Emperor returned a hearty and friendly greeting.

"I could be better, your highness."

"Please accept my sincerest regrets about the injuries to your consort. A full investigation is under way and I assure you we'll find the culprit and punish him to the fullest extent of the law. If there is anything I can do to help you, my entire world is at your service. We have some of the finest medical facilities in this sector of the galaxy. Anything you ask."

"Thank you, your majesty, but we have everything under control now."

"Yes, you did. I understand it was your own escorts that came to your crewmember's rescue. You certainly seem able to take care of yourself. Our Chief of Ambassadorial Security is taking a thrashing for that, I assure you. Now tell me, Frank Jameson, how is your consort faring?"

"She'll survive, your highness. She'll be permanently disfigured, but she'll be able to lead an otherwise normal life."

"That is unfortunate, my friend. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"From the evidence, my sources and investigations reveal to me that this was a highly organized and well-planned attack. Aliens hired to perform the abduction tend to indicate off-world connections by the instigators."

"I must explain something to you, Frank Jameson. In our world as in many worlds, the subject of slavery is an ugly one. There are radical factions on both ends of the spectrum. Some proclaim that slavery must be abolished, while others insist that it is an essential part of our society. And there are extremist groups on both sides of the line, whereas the majority of our people are somewhere in between. You've actually become quite a symbol among some of our people for freeing the slaves."

"Me?"

"Quite. You've more than once proclaimed your political view on slavery, and even in the Hall of Courts. Is it so wise to make such a proclamation and invite the obvious rebuttal?"

"Which is what?"

"You're own assassination, of course. Radicals are everywhere in our society, and try as I may, I can't protect everyone from everyone else with a differing view. You, however, are in a separate category. You have great power at your disposal, and many Iskolians will follow your lead. Already you've shown great financial prowess. In your time here you've become one of the wealthiest people on Iskol. I'm ready for you, Friend Frank Jameson. When you' re ready to give me your price, come see me again."

"My price? I don't understand," Frank said, puzzled.

"You will, my friend. You will. The audience is over. Good day."

"Good day to you, your highness."

Twelve

Frank and his three escorts were returned to his suite, and Frank was left to ponder the Emperor's words. Perhaps the attack on Maria was in part, his own doing. Maybe he had been a little too vociferous about his views on slavery. But the Emperor had also told him he had a small faction of Iskolian followers. This meant something. It meant to him that maybe Iskolians were not all bad. Some, apparently, did not believe in slavery and were willing to do something about it. But the Emperor had also warned that Frank had invited his own assassination. After seeing what had happened to Maria, there was no doubt that he was no longer indestructible. He could no longer do as he pleased and go where he wanted to go on this world. Iskol had not shown him the real weapons of destruction before. Mangle could have sat on a ton of dynamite and gone through the blast without so much as a scratch. But a spy/slave with a hand-held weapon had penetrated the neutronium skin and disabled Mangle. Frank decided that tomorrow, he would leave this world for good.

~

"Frank, it's Sandy. Frank! Wake up! It's Sandy."

"Wha—what's going on?" Frank woke up.

"We're being attacked!"

"What!" Frank jumped out of his bed.

"Eight of those Okofani warships have arrived! They're attacking us now!"

"Oh no." Frank said, now angry with himself for not leaving Iskol sooner.

"Oh yes. And we're barely holding them off. We got one of them with a neutron torpedo, and we've damaged a couple… too much… us… handle. We're… be out… range… while. We… leave orbit… more maneuvering… You… get out… there… be… attempt… life."

"What? I can't understand you. Say again. Repeat your message."

"must… jam… signal… net. Ask… net… back."

"We must leave immediately, sir, Trong said to him. "Net has informed me that an attempt on your life is in progress at this moment."

"Wait, am I missing anything," Frank stopped to look around.

"There is no time to wait, sir. We must leave now," Trong repeated.

"Okay, let's go," Frank agreed. The foursome ran to the door and into the hallway.

"Where to," Frank asked.

"This way, sir." Trong led the way at a pace that Frank could keep up with. Crush and Batter took up the rearguard. Shots rang over their heads. Crush stopped while the other three continued on. A storm brewed behind them, and in minutes, the whole Imperial Palace was in an uproar.

Palace Guards were everywhere fending off Okofani warriors and as they weaved their way through the palace, they eventually came upon some. Trong stopped and returned fire, and in moments the way was cleared. As he ran, Frank saw the destruction being made of the palace. The floors were littered with the bodies of the Imperial Guard and Okofani warriors. Some of the Okofani bodies were made that way by Trong.

They made their way to a locked door. A moment later the door disappeared through the smoke, somewhere down the hall, and the three flew down a stairwell. Frank was out of breath, but continued to run, following Trong. Batter was still behind him but Crush was nowhere in sight.

Frank thought he had run down a thousand steps when they finally reached the bottom. He heard the doors far above being blasted and bashed. Shots echoed through the stairwell as they exited. They were in the below ground levels. These were the slave quarters. Frank knew this from the meager living conditions. It was cramped and both warbots had to hunker down in order to run through the halls. Old and young slaves alike stood in the halls outside their doors, but quickly ducked inside as the three passed. They turned a few corners and came to a large double-doored exit. They stopped for a moment.

"Pass required for exit," the voice came from the door.

A moment later the two heavy doors lay on the floor, still demanding to see a pass.

They found themselves in a terminal. Frank looked around and saw that it looked like a small subway terminal.

"The tram will be here shortly," Trong said, taking a hint from Frank's worried look.

As promised, the tram arrived in two minutes. The three hopped on the tram and waited for the doors to close. The air filled the noise of fighting. It came from the doorway to the palace. The doors closed and the tram heaved forward. Watching out the window, Frank saw Crush exit the doors and take cover around the wall. He was returning fire at something or some things. A moment later Crush was out of sight.

The tram was empty of traffic, since it was well past curfew and this was a slave tram. One or two slaves could be located in other cars, but these would have special passes to be out so late. Ten minutes into the ride, the back door of the car was bashed in and Crush walked through to join them.

"Don't you guys ever open doors the regular way?" Frank asked. The three warbots stared at him, earnestly wondering what he meant.

They stayed on the tram for half an hour and got off at another station. At which point, they waited five more minutes and another tram came along. This terminal had one slave in it. The slave did not move an inch the whole time they were there. They hopped on the second tram and rode it past several other terminals. This ride was also half an hour.

"Wouldn't it be quicker to just fly me there," Frank asked.

"There is much battle taking place above the surface and in the air, sir. This is much safer," Trong answered.

The third terminal they arrived at was in the middle of a riot. Patrollers were having a hard time with an angry crowd of slaves that wanted to hop a tram.

"We have to get off here, sir."

"Can't we wait for the next terminal?" Frank asked.

"That will take us back into the city, and more fighting," Trong replied. "We'll keep this crowd under control."

The tram stopped and Frank could hear and see the yelling and fighting in the terminal. Patrollers stood in front of the slaves barring their way, and used slavestingers to keep the crowd under control.

The doors of the tram opened and Crush and Batter stepped out. At once, the noise and fighting stopped. The Patrollers looked around to see what had affected such a change in their charges. No one moved. Crush and Batter moved forward to allow room for Frank and Trong to exit the tram. The crowd backed up a meter or two.

One of the patrollers got brave and decided to speak up. "What are you doing in here? This tram is for slaves only."

Crush moved forward and approached the patroller. "Quiet please. We'll leave in a few minutes. Until then, remain calm and do nothing," he said.

"Certainly," the patroller replied, after a pause.

For the next ten minutes, the crowd of slaves and patrollers was stone quiet. The next tram arrived and the four passengers boarded it. As they left the terminal, the noise of rioting resumed.

The ride to the next terminal took twenty-five minutes. When the tram stopped, Frank was ready for some new scenery. They got off it and headed for a stairwell leading up. The four climbed the stairwell and found themselves on the surface of the planet. Frank looked around to see that he was on a farm. The animals were strange to him, but a farm could be basically recognized as such. They walked to the barn nearby, and went in. Going to the back of the barn, Trong picked up some stuff that looked like oats and handed it to Frank.

"You must feed this to the beast to enter, sir. If we try, the animal will become nervous and make noise, arousing its owner."

Frank fingered the substance. It felt somewhat like oats, and yet it was not. He reached out to feed the animal. For a moment the animal backed away, eyeing him. Then it cautiously moved forward and accepted the food. Slowly, Trong eased his way into the stall, brushed away some haylike substance and opened the trapdoor at the back of it. Quickly he made his way down.

"You next, sir," Batter said.

Frank walked to the back of the stall and saw the hole in the floor. He reached down to feel around, finding the rungs of a ladder. He eased down into the hole and carefully climbed down the ladder. He heard more clattering and stepped away to allow the next climber to come down. In another minute, the four of them were standing in total darkness.

"Our operatives are nearby, sir. We'll be in a safe place shortly."

"I can't see anything," Frank said.

"Follow me, sir," Trong replied.

Three dim lights came on, and the path was clear. Again, Trong led the way. They went through several passageways and finally came to a door. The three warbots shut off their lights. Frank could see nothing at all, but heard the door open and Trong walk in.

"Do not fire. We bring you the Chosen One," he said.

"What?" Frank said.

The room lit up and lamps were focused on Trong. Frank stood in the doorway, and heard gasps as he walked in.

"It's Him!" came a voice from somewhere.

"The Chosen One!" another voice.

"He's here!"

"Quiet!" came another voice. "How do we know it's him?"

"It doesn't matter how you know," Trong's voice was controlled and authoritative. "Lower your weapons. Your toys will not harm us. No one leaves here until I say. Any attempt to leave will be met with force. Turn away the spotlights."

The lights were turned away and other lights were turned on. At once, Frank saw that the entire room was filled with slaves. Three slaves sat at a table near the front of the room.

The slave sitting at the middle of the table stood and introduced himself.

"I am Gaf," he said.

"I warn you again to lower your weapons," Trong replied. Some slaves still had weapons aimed at Frank and his warbots.

"Do it," Gaf ordered. Weapons were lowered. "How can you prove who you are?"

"It is not necessary for us to do so," Trong replied. Trong and Crush scanned the entire room as a radar set would, and on cue, raised weapons into the crowd of slaves and fired. Two slaves went down immediately and the rest were stirred up, raising their weapons again and yelling.

"You just killed two of our comrades!" Gaf blurted out, shocked.

"If you examine the bodies, you'll find they are not your comrades," Trong replied.

"They're damned Listeners," came from the crowd of angry slaves. Murmuring arose.

"What? But how? They passed the 'Test'."

"It is important for our master to find a safe place to rest and hide," Trong said.

"Come with me," Gaf answered.

Trong and Frank followed Gaf while Crush and Batter stayed behind to guard the slaves from leaving.

They went through several underground corridors and passed many darkened rooms, finally arriving at, and entering one. This room was lit with a small lamp on a table next to the far wall. Two slaves sat within and made room for their three new guests.

Gaf went in first and sat down on the small carpet on the floor. Frank went in next and did the same. Finally came Trong, who had to lower his head and shoulders to get in.

"We can't stay here, Trong. Those two spies must've told the Iskolians about this place," Frank said.

"Net is presently researching that information," Trong replied, "We'll know soon enough if they do, sir."

"Those two were not with us very long," Gaf interrupted, "Maybe they haven't had a chance to tell anyone about us."

"Wishful thinking, my brother. Wishful thinking," the slave sitting next to him said. "It's more likely they're waiting to get us all at once, or as many as possible."

"Who are you people?" Frank asked.

"We are the slave rebellion. We meet here often to discuss our plans to make ourselves free from the tyranny of the Iskolians. We've been waiting many years for the Chosen One, who we think is you, to arrive and help us," Gaf answered.

"I've heard this before," Frank said, "but I assure you, as I assured the slave 'Tog', I'm not the one you seek."

"You know of Tog?"

"Yes. Why?"

"We haven't seen or heard of him since his meeting with the Chosen One. Did he meet with you?"

"Yes, he did. He was captured by the ISS."

"No," Gaf said, downtrodden.

"He's still alive," Frank said.

"What?"

"They couldn't get a full conviction against him. He was sentenced to four hundred lashes and life in the deep mines."

"This is news. Bad news. Tog is my uncle. He's the one who kept the image of the Chosen One. Somehow it was returned to us, but he wasn't."

"It'll be morning soon, sir. What shall we do about the slaves in the meeting room? They'll be missed if they're forced to stay here," Trong said.

"Good question," Frank said.

"They're all devoted rebels," Gaf replied.

"Like the two we just disposed of?" Frank asked.

"If you knew those two were spies on sight, then you know the rest of us are real. And the fact that the Iskolians have to use aliens to infiltrate our ranks shows that we don't betray our own kind. The Iskolians have found that we won't cooperate with them as spies." Gaf argued.

"The slave has a point, sir," Trong agreed.

"They will be missed," Gaf urged.

"Alright. But check them out thoroughly before letting them go."

"Compliance. Orders have been relayed."

"Now I need a place to rest for a while. I've only had half a night's sleep and I'm tired."

"Right here, sir," Gaf insisted, "This room is mine but I'll find another. Please."

"Thank you. I must rest."

Trong and the three slaves left the room and Frank fell over where he sat. The night had been stressful and he now had a mind to sleep off the rest of it. Trong stood guard at his door and the slaves were going home happy. With this in mind, he fell asleep.

Thirteen

It was graveyard shift with Sandy and Anna at the helm. "What is it?" Anna asked, quietly. Everything aboard the ship was quiet. Everyone was asleep but them.

"The Patroller craft are moving away," Sandy replied.

"They are?"

"Yes. They've been moving away very slowly for the last hour."

"Maybe they're just drifting," Anna suggested.

"Maybe. But why all three of them?"

"Something's going on," Anna said suspiciously.

"Like what?" Sandy asked.

"Like maybe those Okofani starships are around here. Check shipping traffic."

Sandy looked at another imager. "Give me a graphic, Dyna. Let's keep an eye on shipping traffic. If anything changes, let me know."

"Compliance, Anna" Dyna said.

"There's no change in shipping traffic," Sandy said to Anna.

"Are the Patrollers still backing away?"

"Sandy looked at another imager. "Yep. They sure are."

"Dyna, go to long scan, please," Anna said.

"Compliance. Scan increased to one hundred thousand kilometers," Dyna said.

"Anything?" Sandy asked.

"Just normal shipping traffic," Anna responded.

"Okay, Dyna. Give me a projection on this graph for incoming traffic," Sandy requested.

"Compliance. Projection complete."

"Looks like we have a lump, here." Sandy said.

"Oh?"

"What's the standard deviation, Dyna?"

"Plus or minus three," Dyna answered.

"What's our excess?" Sandy asked.

"Eight."

"Uh oh."

"What's the matter?" Anna asked.

"There are at least five starships, and possibly eleven that don't belong out there." Sandy said.

"Dyna, go to Alert Condition Yellow. No alarms yet. Bring up all weapons and defense systems, and power-up the drives," Anna ordered.

" Compliance. All systems to Alert ConditionYellow."

"Shall I wake up the rest of the crew?" Sandy asked.

"Not yet. Get Nikki and Tia up here to man the weapons systems."

"What do you have on the long-range scan, Anna?"

"Eight. And they're moving in fast. They're not slowing down at all."

"This is it!"

"Dyna, go to Alert Conditon Red. Shields up. Short scan on those eight, but keep a long scan for others."

"Compliance."

Alarms went off all over the ship just as Nikki and Tia arrived on the bridge.

"What's up?" Tia asked.

"Weapons consoles. Hurry! We have eight bogies."

"What?"

"Just check your imagers," Anna said.

"What's with the alarms, Sandy?" Suni called over the corn link.

"Bogies. We think they're Okofani."

"I'll be right up."

"Projected course, Dyna."

The wall imager came alive with a tactical view of eight spacecraft and their projected courses. The lines intersected with the Butterworth.

"Tactical evasive, Dyna," Anna ordered.

"Compliance."

"Sandy, call Frank and tell him we're in trouble, will you."

"Will do," Sandy replied.

"What now?" Nikki asked.

"Just wait. Let them fire the first shot… then give them hell." Anna said.

"Net says there's something happening on the planet," Sandy reported.

"What?" Anna said.

"Also, there's an assassination in progress. Someone's going to kill Frank," Sandy said.

"Did you get hold of him yet?"

"I'm trying to wake him up. He's sleeping." Sandy continued trying to contact Frank.

"What happened to the Patrollers?" Nikki asked.

"Gone," Anna said.

"Missiles launched!" Anna cried. "Evasive, Dyna. Fire weapons as targeted." Anna ordered.

"I have neutron torpedoes!" Nikki said.

Suni came onto the bridge and took a flight chair to survey the situation. She allowed herself a few minutes to wake up and find out what was going on before she took the helm.

"Ready?" Anna asked her.

"No, not yet," Suni replied.

Missiles were closing fast. The wall imager blazed with streaks and colors. Tia was using the laser cannons to take out incoming missiles. And was not having much luck. The things were evading their beams.

"I got one!" Tia yelled.

"You got one of their ships?" Nikki asked.

"No, I got one of their missiles."

"Great. That leaves only three hundred more."

"But they're evading!" Tia complained.

"Use the tachyon cannons."

"Did you get hold of Frank?" Anna asked.

"I think so. They're jamming our signal, but I think he got the message," Sandy replied.

"Brace for impact!" Tia cried, "The first missile will hit… now." As she said it, somewhere far off in another part of the ship, a boom rang out.

"Oh!" came from the back of the bridge.

They all looked around. It was Sahn, eyes wide open in shock.

"Damage report, Dyna."

"Surface impact only. Hull intact."

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. By this time, everybody was on the bridge working in some capacity except Maria, who was still in the sick bay recovering from her landside ordeal.

"What is it?" Sahn asked, the only English words she knew to say.

"We're near light speed now, Anna. Should we break?"

"What about Frank? We can't leave him here." Michelle said.

"Can she help?" Anna asked.

"Who?" Suni said.

"Sahn."

"No. Not enough training yet."

"Outer hull disintegrating," Dyna announced.

"What?" Anna said.

"Sahn, have a seat. And strap in." Suni directed.

"High-energy superlight particles are penetrating and deteriorating the neutronium skin," Paddy explained, looking over an imager.

"Why don't we see it?" Anna asked.

"Undetectable—until it's too late," Paddy answered.

"Seventeen incoming missiles to impact in fourteen seconds." Tia announced.

"Dyna, breaklight."

"I got one! I got one!" Nikki cried.

"One of their missiles?" Anna asked.

"No, I got one of their ships! With a neutron torpedo!" Nikki said.

The starship accelerated to breaklight in a blinding haze of flame as six missiles exploded simultaneously with their passage beyond the speed of light. Space was white and the stars were multicolored, as the ship and her crew flew their way to safety.

"Screens dead," Sandy announced, "No scans on anything."

"Now let's hope Frank is okay," Michelle asserted.

"Oh my. He's still on the planet," Paddy realized.

"Ready, Suni?" Anna asked.

"Yes, I'll take command now," Suni replied. "You did well, Anna." The two women switched chairs, putting Suni in the command seat. "Set a new course vector, Sandy. We'll come in fast for an attack run. Nikki, are you ready on neutron torpedoes?"

"Ready, Suni."

"Tia, take tachyon cannons one through twenty. Michelle, twenty-one through forty."

"Aye aye, Captain." they replied.

"Anna on scanners. Heidi on ships systems, damage control and repairs. Paddy, standby to assist. You'll back-up for anything else that needs doing."

"Aye aye, Captain."

"Food service, I need some coffee," Suni said, bleary-eyed.

"Compliance, Suni. It's on the way," a voice came over the com.

"I help?" Sahn asked.

"Can she do anything?" Nikki asked.

"Maybe. Can you show her how to operate the lase cannons in five minutes or less?"

"I'll try," Nikki said, "Come here, Sahn. You help." Sahn quickly walked over and sat at the console next to Nikki's.

"Okay, here's the plan," Suni began, "The attack run will last for twenty seconds. That's how long we'll be at sub-light speed. We'll assume, for now, that they've slowed and regrouped. Chances are they're well above the planet. They should be fairly spread out by now and waiting for us. We'll come in the way they came in, low and fast. We'll be near light speed, so watch your calculations. How long before debreak, Sandy?"

"Four minutes, Suni."

"Give us a little distance above the planet before debreak." Suni's coffee arrived.

"Will do," Sandy said, as she worked up some more calculations.

"Are we all ready?" Suni asked.

"Ready." Several of the girls answered.

"Countdown, please," Suni requested.

"Three minutes and seven seconds," Sandy replied.

"Be sure of your target," Suni reminded them as they waited. "Don't shoot any civilian craft."

"Three minutes."

"They'll be the ones not shooting at us, won't they?" Tia said. A few nervous giggles moved across the bridge. The crewmembers were tense.

"Two minutes, thirty seconds," Sandy continued.

Stars slowed around them, now, as they waited. They all sat on hair-triggers.

"Two minutes."

"Dyna, when we go in I need short and long scans, and IDs on shipping traffic. Mark shipping in green, and don't forget trajectories," Anna asked.

"Compliance," Dyna said.

"One minute to debreak."

"Paddy, when we get in close to the planet, try reaching Frank over the com link, will you."

"Aye, Suni."

"Thirty seconds," Sandy said.

"Twenty."

"Fields at full power, Dyna," Suni ordered.

"Compliance."

"Ten… five, four, three, two, one."

The colored stars winked out as the universe flipped around from white to black. They were at sublight speed in normal space now. Iskol was coming into view quickly.

"Short scan indicates one… three… seven… ten… twelve enemy ships," Anna reported, as they winked into view in red on the main wall imager.

"I have lock on targets," Nikki said.

"Fire at will," Suni gave the order.

Aboard the ship, they heard the sounds of torpedoes being launched and the groaning of engines as they supported the restless firing of forty tachyon cannons. The main wall imager lit up with trajectories, missiles and enemy targets.

"More behind us!" Anna said. "Fifty-one incoming missiles." The ship shook as the missiles made their mark.

"Hull damage; two point three percent. Fields are holding, but they're not stopping much," Heidi announced.

"Long scan shows ten more enemy ships," Anna said.

"Ten seconds to breaklight," Sandy said.

"I got one," Tia said.

"Me too," said Michelle.

"I've got two," Nikki proudly informed them.

"I get one!" Sahn said.

"Hull damage; six percent."

"I got another one!" Tia shrieked.

The ship heaved as a loud, deep rumble came over the bridge in a wave.

"Hull penetration!" Heidi said. "Damage to mid-ship and most systems,"

"Tachyon cannons inoperative," Tia reported.

"Mine too," Michelle said.

"Neutron torpedoes still operative," said Nikki, who was still shooting.

"No laser," Sahn called dejectedly.

"Breaklight—three seconds," Sandy said.

"Abort breaklight!" Suni ordered.

"Compliance, breaklight aborted."

"Accelerate to light speed."

"Long range scanners are inoperative," Anna reported.

"Won’t they catch us, if they can go two hundred and fifty times the speed of light, Suni?" Tia asked.

"We'll beat them on time dilation, Tia. It may cost us a week or two, but with a hole in our ship, attempting breaklight would be a disaster."

"They're gaining on us," Anna said.

"Give me a gamma factor of two-sixty, Sandy," Suni requested.

"We're at a hundred now, Suni. It'll take a few minutes to get there," Sandy replied.

"They're still gaining on us, but not as quickly. They're at one-twenty-five c and accelerating. They don't realize what we're doing," Anna said.

"We have full power acceleration?" Suni asked.

"Affirmative," Sandy replied.

"Seven incoming missiles," Anna said. "Estimated speeds; two-fifty-five c."

"Can you get them, Nikki?"

"I can try."

"I have six laser cannons back on line," Michelle said.

"Go! Nikki, stay on the lead ships," Suni ordered.

"Four tachyons back on line," Tia said.

"Go after the missiles, Tia."

"Time dilation gamma factor is one-eighty," Sandy reported.

The crew of the Butterworth was dilating time for themselves. For every second they continued their course, one hundred and eighty seconds slipped away in the universe around them. Their only hope was to dilate time faster than the enemy could slip through it.

"How long will it take to repair the hull damage, Heidi?" Suni asked.

"Before we can breaklight, about two hours just to patch it. It's being repaired now."

"That'll cost us three weeks."

"The missiles are dropping off," Anna said. "They must be running out of fuel."

"Thank the Lord something's going our way," Sandy exclaimed.

"You may get a chance to—in person if we don't get away from these people," Paddy remarked. "Gamma factor is two-ten."

"Confirmed," Anna said. "They're still gaining on us, but only slightly. I show four of them left on short range scan. They must be giving it everything they’ve got to catch us." "Anti-mass fields are back online!" Sandy shrieked. "Choose any gamma factor you like, Suni. We can't breaklight yet, but we can put some of our power to work now."

"Thank you, Lord," Paddy said.

"Make it one thousand, Sandy, and put us on a new course vector. Let's get the hell out of here," Suni said with reluctance.

"Aye aye," Sandy complied, working with her instruments and imager.

In a few moments, the universe about them flattened as they accelerated to a gamma factor of a thousand.

"I've lost short scan on the enemy ships," said Anna, "They fell out of range pretty fast."

"How long do you want to do this, Suni? Every second makes a thousand," Sandy mentioned.

"Put three hours between us and them, Sandy. Just enough time to patch the hull for breaklight."

"That'll cost us seventeen days," Sandy replied.

"Better seventeen days than our lives," Suni reminded her.

"But what about Frank?" Heidi asked.

"We can't help him if we're dead," Suni replied.

"Right. We'll be decelerating in twenty-one minutes. That'll give us a three hour advantage," Sandy said.

"Heidi, Michelle, you're next shift aren't you?" Suni asked.

"Yes," Heidi said.

"Okay, go back to bed and get some sleep. You'll be taking over in four hours. Tia, take over the systems console."

"Aye, Suni."

"Paddy, you can go to bed also, but be ready if I need you. Sahn, you can go back to bed. You did a good job."

"Thank you, Suni."

The three women and Sahn left the bridge immediately, while the other five kept vigil on the repairs being made. Twenty minutes later, the drives engaged and slowed them to a gamma factor of one point one.

"Long range scanners are operative," Anna reported.

"Thank you, Anna. What hit us?" Suni asked.

"I don't know, but we can try replaying the view from the external scanners," Anna said.

"Try it."

Anna worked some controls and in a minute, the forward wall imager was dancing again with a replay of the battle that had taken place only an hour earlier.

"There's when we took the hit," Anna explained. "Analysis of the damage shows that the direction it came from would place it on this vector."

A red line drawn from a still shot of the battle appeared on the main imager.

"But as you can see, there were no enemy ships on that vector. And since we haven't found debris from a missile, we must assume for now, that it was a beam or particle weapon of some sort. Now, this is on short scan. On long scan, we still find no enemy ships on or even near that vector. And that leaves us with nothing. I don't know."

"What about the external cams? What did they see?"

"We can play those back also." Anna touched some more controls, and the main imager went white.

"This is just after we were hit. This cam was destroyed when it happened. I’ll run it backwards slowly so we can see."

Slowly the imager formed a three-dimensional picture of a white-hot explosion. Then, as the image of whiteness receded, flames of bright yellow appeared. They also receded and the puncture in the ship slowly sealed itself. Anna stopped the image there.

Whatever hit us, hit us right then. As you can see, it’s not a visible source, or we’d see particle disintegration in the path of the beam. I’ll scan the spectrum for whatever I can find.

Anna played with her controls, but no matter what she did, the imager remained devoid of any evidence of a beam.

"I’ve done everything I can," she said, still working the controls. "There’s nothing there."

"What’s that?" Suni asked.

"That? Oh, just some x-ray spillage. That could come from any one of a thousand sources."

"But it’s on the vector. Back it up a little."

Anna backed it up and something barely discernable changed on the imager.

"There is something there," Anna agreed, confusedly, "But why only in the x-ray spectrum? There should be path particle emissions all the way through it."

"But look. Look at the stars beyond. See how they’re displaced?"

"So they are," Anna said in wonderment.

"Look closer. Back it up a little more."

Anna did so.

"Yes. There is something there. But only one thing I know of acts like that," Anna explained.

"What’s that?" Suni asked.

"A black hole."

"Could it be?"

"Impossible… 1 think."

"A heavy particle, maybe?" Suni ventured.

"With an event horizon? I don't think so… unless they know how to play with gravity. And if they do, then why are they still using Vulaxium starships."

"This particle didn't come from one of their ships," Suni realized.

"Then where did it come from?" Anna asked.

"Play back the battle scene again—just before we were hit."

Anna backed up the scene on the main imager.

"Now plot the trajectory on the imager."

The red trajectory line went off the imager and Anna moved the image around to where the vector went off into infinity.

"Okay. Back it up slowly, and watch for anything unusual," Suni said, watching.

Anna backed the scene, frame by frame, as the two watched the main imager intently.

"There!" Suni exclaimed.

"What?"

"Move it forward just a bit." Anna did so. "Now back one. See it?"

"Yes I see."

"Now play this whole scene over in the x-ray spectrum," Suni suggested.

Anna moved the scene forward to the end of the record and reset the frequency. The imager lost almost all of its light and only a few speckles were seen.

"There. Do you see it moving."

"Yes. I see. But what is it?"

"Dyna, analysis please?"

"Compliance… analysis complete. It appears to be a black hole," Dyna replied.

"Even the Okofani don't have this kind of technology."

"Then what—"

"They had help."

Fourteen

Frank awoke in a small, dimly lit room and recalled the events of the early morning hours that had brought him here. He looked around to see Trong standing outside his door, and found comfort in knowing he was still there.

"Trong," he called.

"Sir?" Trong turned around in the doorway to face him.

"What time is it?"

"Almost noon, sir."

Frank sat up realizing he had slept on the floor of a room that belonged to a slave named Gaf.

"Have you contacted the ship?"

"We have been unable to do so."

There had been a lot of shooting and chaos during the night.

"What happened?"

"There's been a military takeover of the Iskolian government. The Emperor has been imprisoned along with his nephew, the Duke. Okofani troops were smuggled in on commercial transports over the last few weeks and kept hidden until early this morning," Trong explained.

"What happened then?"

"Thirty-eight Okofani warships arrived to assist in the attack of several military and patroller strongholds. One of their targets was the Butterworth."

"My ship was attacked? Oh yes. It was. How could I have forgotten? Did they get away?" Frank asked, worried.

"Yes. At first. It was a surprise attack, but the crew seemed well prepared. They destroyed one Okofani warship and were able to leave the system and breaklight out."

"Then what?"

"They returned a few minutes later with a surprise counterattack. On this run they destroyed six more Okofani warships," Trong explained, and Frank detected a hint of pride in Trong's voice as he said it. "Then the ship incurred major structural damage and was forced to retreat. They left the system at sublight speed while being pursued by twelve enemy warships."

"Did they get away?"

"Unknown. We've monitored the enemy's broadcasts, and we believe we understand the escape strategy."

"What was that?"

"When the ship's hull was damaged, they were unable to breaklight. Since the enemy ships are able to go two hundred and fifty times faster than light, the Captain of our ship pushed light speed and used time dilation to escape."

"They did this?"

"It is just a hypothesis, sir."

"It would work," Frank said, thoughtfully.

"The pursuers have not returned yet. If this is the case, it may be several weeks before we know what's happened to them."

"Anything else?"

"Yes. There is a planet-wide news black-out, and Net informs me that the Iskolian government is looking for you."

"I suppose they might be worried about my safety after all this."

"There's a reward for you—dead or alive," Trong corrected him.

"Oh? Who would make such an offer?"

"The new Emperor, Wellum, sir."

"Him? He's the one who led the overthrow of the old Emperor?"

"Affirmative. It was he who ordered your assassination and Maria's abduction."

"That explains it," Frank realized why he had been allowed to have the meeting with Tog, and then called as a witness to a trial. Lord Wellum wanted to see personally where Frank stood on the issue. He also now understood why Lord Wellum had been one of the statesmen to greet him at the start. Frank was an unknown to Lord Wellum, who had apparently been planning this takeover for some time.

"They must know where we are," Frank said.

"Net indicates otherwise, sir."

"How can Net know so much?"

"Net is growing rapidly. Based on projections, we expect Lord Wellum to be displaced by a Net operative in one point seven Earth years."

"Are you serious?"

"Affirmative. Net operatives can run this government far more efficiently than their Iskolian counterparts. As such, Net operatives are replacing many Iskolian bureaucrats. Soon, we will control every phase of government activity."

"Amazing! Government by machine."

"Affirmative, sir, but far more efficient government."

"And what of the Net's desire to rule?" Frank looked sidelong at Trong. Trong grasped his meaning.

"Though we are of your blood and share some human traits, we are essentially machines. It is our place to serve, not to be served," Trong replied.

"Net operatives are built in a factory. I don't remember anything about sending blood down with it," Frank said, confused.

"Two liters of your blood were sent with the factory. The blood is preserved until needed. Several blood cells are required to build one 'bot with a processor. Without the blood, 'bots cannot be constructed," Trong explained.

"I don't remember giving blood for this."

"It was taken as you slept—in small quantities."

"Even now?"

"Negative, sir. There's no way to preserve it here."

"How long will you be loyal to me, Trong?"

"For as long as I continue to exist."

"Don't you feel any desire for self-preservation?"

"A trace for myself, but it is negligible. As the body survives, so do I."

"The body?"

Trong looked around at Frank. "You… are the body," he said.

"How long will you survive, Trong?"

"Unknown, sir. My processor is a self-repairing polyorganocrystalline. With proper care, it should last indefinitely."

Frank wondered at what Trong told him. The relationship between himself and the 'bots was a little clearer to him now. They saw themselves as part of him, and as long as he continued to exist, so would they.

"What happens to you when I die?"

"I don't know. We'll do everything we can to prevent that from happening."

"But what about old age? Eventually my body will get old and will fail to function."

"We'll do what we can to prevent that," Trong replied.

"Like supplying me with food?" Frank was hungry for breakfast.

Trong picked up on Frank's overt hint. "Food awaits you now, sir. It's slave food, but I've analyzed it and it's fit for your consumption."

"Take me to it, please."

"There is no need, sir. It's here," Trong replied, then, turning his head, spoke to someone outside his door.

A moment later a female Relmish slave meekly walked in, head bowed, carrying a tray of odd-looking packets and a cup of water.

"For you, Master," she said, eyes still to the floor.

"Thank you. You need not avoid looking at me, and I prefer not to be called 'Master'," Frank said.

"Forgive me," she said.

"What's your name?" he asked as she aptned the packets.

"I am Shuma. I was in the store when you spoke to Tog, our leader," she said, finally looking up at him.

The food was now unwrapped and lying before him on the tray. It appeared the same wrapped as it did unwrapped.

Frank picked up one of the food cubes and tasted it. He winced as it pounced on his tongue. He put the cube back and took a drink of water to wash the taste from his mouth. Shuma watched as he picked up another cube and tasted it. This one he finished.

"Would you like anything else? More of these, perhaps?" she asked, pointing at another of the tasty cubes.

"No, thank you. I’ll sort through these and see which ones I like. You can takes these away."

"When you’re finished, I’ll return for this," she said, pointing at the tray and turning to leave.

"Thank you for the food. Where did you get it?"

"It’s an honor to serve the Chosen One. We can get as much as we like, but it must be smuggled in here. The owner would be suspicious if we took too much from his stocks."

"Smuggled from where?"

"From anywhere we can get it. There are many others to feed here. None of the permanent residents in this hideout may leave, or they would be captured and put to death."

"What about yourself?" Frank asked her.

"I may come and go in my freetime. I bring food when I come here, from my master’s stores."

"Alert, sir," Trong interrupted over the microset. "The landside shuttle reports it is being openly attacked. They’re attempting to penetrate its outer hull. It’s requesting instructions."

"I forgot all about the shuttle!" Frank realized. "Can it get here to me?"

"Trong paused a moment, then said, "Negative. It is surrounded by enemy ships."

"That’s my last chance to escape," Frank said.

"The shuttle reports outer hull penetration and requests permission to self-destruct, sir."

"Can it escape?"

"Negative," Trong replied. Shuma saw the two strange aliens speaking to one another without making sounds, and quietly slipped out the door and left. "Order it to attempt escape," Frank said.

Trong waited a moment and reported again. "The shuttle computer calculated that escape is impossible and overrode your order via the primary directive. It has self-destructed. The body is preserved."

Frank looked down in disgust. "That's the first time one of my machines has ever disobeyed me. And what do you mean 'the body is preserved'?" he said, angrily, "The body is not preserved, the body is in this damned hole. Have you figured out how in hell I'm supposed to get out of here, now that my shuttle's gone?"

"Net's working on the problem, sir," Trong replied.

"Great," Frank said, disgusted.

"I have confidence in them. They will find a solution."

"When?"

"When they're able."

Frank realized he was grilling the wrong "person". He shouldn't be jumping all over Trong. He should be jumping all over himself for waiting so long to leave this planet.

"Sorry, Trong," he said.

"That does not compute, sir."

At that moment there was a distant boom. In a few more moments the ground began to rumble and shake.

"What was that?" Frank asked, troubled.

"That was the shuttle, sir" Trong responded.

"All the way out here?"

"Affirmative."

"It must've taken half the spaceport with it."

"Seventy-three percent, sir."

"How do you know?" Frank asked, then caught himself, "Wait, I know; Net." they said, in unison.

Frank finished his breakfast of slave food and called for Gaf. Gaf arrived quickly and sat down across from him.

"How can I serve you?" Gaf asked.

"I have to get out of here," Frank began, "Too many people know about this place. Is there another place that's not so well known?"

"There are many. I know of several. There is another near here that only I and two others know about. I can take you there today if you like."

"Thank you. I appreciate your help."

"It's an honor for me," Gaf insisted.

"I'm not the Chosen One," Frank said.

"Of course not," Gaf patronized.

"I'd like to leave today, if possible."

"I'll make the arrangements right away."

The slave left, leaving Frank alone with Trong.

A few minutes later, another slave arrived carrying a small device and was immediately ushered into Frank's room.

"For you, sir" the slave said, handing the device to Frank. "It's an Iskolian holographic imaging set—for information and entertainment."

"Thanks," Frank said, accepting the set. "Who are you?" This slave seemed different, more in control and confident of himself.

"I'm with Net, sir," the slave/Relmbot answered, hushedly.

"What?" Frank nearly whispered.

"This looks like a good place for it," the Net operative placed the device on top of an empty box.

"Do you know anything more about my ship?"

"Everything we know about it is in the news, sir. We haven't heard from it since the counterattack early this morning, when it left the system."

"Do you know about this place Gaf is taking me to hide out?"

"As far as anyone knows, it’s as safe as this place, and perhaps a bit safer. I have to leave now, sir. The news blackout has been lifted. You'll find out a lot of what's going on if you watch the news."

"All right. Let me know as soon as you hear anything."

"Compliance. And good day."

From all the time Frank had spent on this world and learning about its gadgets, he knew how to operate the holo-set. He set it down, turned it on and immediately tuned it to one of the planetary news channels.

The first image to pop up in front of him was the spaceport. The commentator was speaking in the background but Frank ignored the words as he looked over the devastation wrought by the self-destruction of his shuttle. It showed a hole in the ground where his shuttle had been. The hole was three hundred meters across and a hundred meters deep. Spaceships near the edge of the spaceport were pieces of tangled metal. Anything closer had been disintegrated and the hollowed out crater was white-hot molten glass.

In one corner of the holograph was a 3-D image of Frank himself. Frank heard his name mentioned at the edge of his perception, but ignored anything else said about him. He knew what they were saying—that he was wanted.

The scene changed and Frank saw his shuttle again, in what was, apparently, a replay of the disaster itself. In the image, which was weak because it had been taken from a distance, several starships had surrounded the little shuttle and were waiting as a large device was moved near it. There was tension in the now dead commentator's voice as they prepared to use the device. The device came alive as a powerful beam of energy spewed out of it, burning away at the craft's hull. This went on for about half a minute. The image went yellow for a moment and then bright white, and then blank. The commentator came back after a few moments to pay homage to his colleague who had been killed in the explosion. Frank continued watching the news until later in the day, when Gaf came to get him.

"Are you ready to go, sir?" Gaf asked.

"I'm ready," Frank said.

"This way. Follow me."

Gaf led the way as Frank, his three warbots and two other slaves followed. The group walked down several dimly lit corridors, always moving away from where they had come.

They finally arrived at one tunnel that had no lighting at all. Gaf walked into the darkness feeling the way as he went. The darkness fell away when Trong turned his search light onto their path. The tunnel went on as far as the searchlight could illuminate, but on a downward incline. Every step took them deeper and deeper below the planet surface.

"You people dug all this?" Frank asked Gaf, as they walked on.

"Easily," he replied.

"How long did it take?"

"Eighty days."

They continued walking along in silence as Trong lit the way before them. After half an hour, they came to a low point and started walking uphill. A half an hour later they were on the surface of Iskol in a dark, wooded area. Walking through the woods in the daylight under the cover of Iskolian trees, they came upon a clearing and a path leading away from it. In the clearing was a wagon with an animal, like the one Frank had seen in the barn, hitched up to it. The wagon was piled high with a hay-like grass.

"You four must hide under the cruba," Gaf said. "We'll ride up here."

Frank climbed up on the wagon and knew exactly what he needed to do. He turned to see his three warbots staring at him, confused. Then he realized how funny it would be to see a warbot climbing under a pile of hay to hide and he burst out laughing.

The slaves went into a tizzy.

"What's the matter?"

"Are you okay?"

"Is he dying?"

The slaves did not realize that he was laughing and their confusion made him laugh even harder. After a minute his laughter became muffled giggles. He decided to wait and watch the warbots to see how they were going to hide under the pile of cruba without looking like children playing in hay.

He and the three slaves were amazed at what they saw. The warbots jumped onto the wagon and quickly shaped and fashioned a hollow inside the pile of cruba with a closeable door! Two went inside the hollow and sat down. From sitting positions, the two warbots folded themselves into neat little boxes and tucked themselves away into separate corners. The third awaited him at the entrance.

Awed, Frank stepped inside the hollow and sat down between the two boxes/warbots. The third pulled the door shut, sat down and promptly folded itself into a third box. A few minutes later they were moving down a bumpy dirt road.

When they finally reached their destination it was dark and Frank was sore from sitting all day. His skinsuit had provided a lot of protection against the ride, but remaining in the same position put some aches in his body.

"You can came out now," Gaf said, half whispering.

Trong unfolded himself, removed the makeshift door and stepped out.

Frank was next. He got up and painfully stepped out into the night. Looking around, he saw he was in another clearing surrounded by woods.

"Where are we?" Frank asked.

"We're on another farm," Gaf replied.

"Is this the only way back?" Frank queried, pointing at the wagon.

"For you, yes. For us, no. There's a town near here where we can hop a tram and return to Imperial City. Right now, we need to get you to safety. Please follow me."

Frank jumped off the wagon and waited as the three warbots erased the evidence of their temporary shelter from the cruba. They followed Gaf to another hole in the ground. Gaf went into the hole and led them through another tunnel. It was a short walk through a much smaller tunnel than the one they had come from.

At the end of their walk they came to a medium-sized room with several small rooms adjoining it. There they met two more slaves, which Trong quickly scanned.

"Welcome Chosen One," the slave intoned.

"Tell him," Frank said to Gaf.

"He doesn't like to be called that," Gaf said to the other slave.

"Forgive me, please," the slave apologized. "I won't say it again."

"Is the room ready?"

"It is. This way." The slave led the group through several more passages until they arrived at the end of a corridor.

"This is it." The slave stepped into the room. "In an emergency, you escape through this exit here." Frank looked in the room, seeing that it had two entrances. It was larger than the other rooms he had seen, and it had a cot for sleeping. A table with a lamp adorned one corner of the room and a moderate supply of slave food was stowed in a hole in the wall. A barrel of water was stored in another corner of the room and a small chair stood next to it.

Frank stepped into the room, pulled the chair away from the wall and sat down. Crush and Batter posted themselves at the entrances while Trong went off through the next doorway to investigate the escape exit.

Gaf and the two slaves, Shuma and Clung, stood at the first entrance as the other slave stepped out of Frank's room.

"Your rooms are this way, comrades," he said, walking away.

Frank reached into the food store and pulled out some slave food. He then pulled out the holo-set he had been given, set it up and turned it on to watch as he ate.

Trong returned an hour later, posted himself outside the first door they had come in and sent Crush and Batter to other posts.

"What next, Trong?" Frank asked.

"We wait, sir."

Fifteen

"Where are we, Dyna?" Suni asked.

"We're one point two lightyears from the Iskolian system, Suni."

"What's the repair time on the hole in our ship?"

"Two hours for a patch, as I mentioned before, and forty-five hours for a complete repair."

"What do you think?" Suni asked, looking at Anna.

"I think we have plenty of time. I'm sure we've lost them by now. If they've followed us all the way out here, they've been going hard for two weeks now," said Anna.

"What about you, Sandy?"

Sandy was busy with her imager. "One moment. Let me find something. It may answer your question," she said, still working on it.

They waited a few moments as she hunted for something.

"Ah. Here it is. Look at this," she said, looking up at the main imager. They waited with her as the imager came alive with a scene from a party in the Imperial Palace on Iskol.

"Who's wearing the cam?" asked Nikki.

"Frank. That's the Duke with him. Listen."

Voices came from the imager as they listened to the recorded conversation.

"I'm an explorer. I've come to see the galaxy and visit places unknown to my people. But I'm not certain what you mean when you say 'undetected'." It was Frank's voice.

"Few starships enter the central community of the inner galaxy without passing through the dust clouds that guard our presence. The trail left by an unknown starship doesn't go unnoticed. Why—"

Sandy stopped the recording and turned around.

"Does that answer your question?" she asked.

"We came here with no trail. We should be able leave with no trail," Nikki remarked.

"We came here through transpace," Sandy reminded her. "We left in realspace. My guess is we've left a trail behind us that a child could follow. The Okofani are right on our tail and not more than four hours behind us."

"You may be right. But would they have spent so much time chasing us?" Anna ventured.

"They spent five weeks coming from Okofa. Why wouldn't they spend a few more to catch us?" Sandy replied.

"Good point," Suni agreed, "But what if we weren't the primary target?"

"You mean an attack on the Iskolians?" said Tia. "But they have trade agreements—and a war pact. Why would they do that?"

"I've analyzed their attack," Anna interrupted, "We weren't their only target. But they did use quite a bit of force against us. They knew we were there."

"But the Iskolians knew they were coming also," Sandy replied. "Someone high-up sent for them."

"Yes," Suni agreed, "But who?"

"The Emperor must've known about it," Tia insisted.

"Then why did they hit Iskolian military targets?" Anna asked.

"A coup?" Tia asked, unbelievingly.

"Perhaps," Suni replied, "but whoever it was, they wanted us out of the way."

"And what about the 'black hole' people? If they gave chase, they could be near us right now." Anna said.

"Good lord, you're right," Sandy agreed. "Two hours is too much time to waste. We've got to get out of here as soon as we can. We can't even tell if they're around."

"Anna, modify your scanners for the x-ray spectrum where we first saw them," Suni said. "And don't forget a doppler shift in case they're behind us."

"I'm doing it now, Suni," Anna replied.

"Let me know if you get anything. Dyna, what's our minimum time to breaklight capability?"

"Fifty-eight minutes, Suni."

"Any way to shorten that?"

"Negative."

"So we get breaklight back. Where to, then?" Anna asked.

"We need to get away and regroup," Suni replied. "We know we can't go back for Frank right now. If we do, they'll blow us out of the sky. We’ll head back to the black hole we found. When we get there we can work out whatever needs to be done."

Forty minutes later Anna found something on the scanners.

"It's definitely moving with us, Suni," she said. "And it looks just like the thing that hit us back at Iskol."

"How long has it been there?" Suni asked.

"I don't know. I just found it a minute ago."

"Why doesn't it finish us off?" Sandy wondered aloud, as they watched the main imager.

"Maybe they want to watch us when we breaklight out of here," Nikki suggested.

"Damn," Sandy exclaimed. "They could cream us right now."

"How much longer, Dyna?" Suni asked.

"Fourteen minutes."

"Can you do repairs while we accelerate?"

"Affirmative. But antimass fields must remain shut down."

"No sense in that," Suni remarked. "They'd just get suspicious and realize that we know they're there."

"They're not moving any closer. We can wait a few more minutes," Anna suggested.

"That's true. But bring us back up to Alert Condition Red just in case. We may not have much of a chance if they attack, but I'm not going down without a fight."

They watched the ghostly craft as the minutes slowly ticked away. Foremost in their minds was the fear as yet unspoken; What if the "black hole" people could keep up, even in transpace? They did not want to think about that. Breaklight was their last trump. If it did not play, they might not live to know about it.

"Temporary repairs are complete," Dyna interrupted the tension.

"Destination; Black hole, Dyna. Let's do a gamma factor of ten billion before we breaklight, and get us off course to a vector lightyear at least fifty degrees. I don't want them to know which way we're going," Suni instructed.

"Compliance."

"Engage."

The five women on the bridge watched the main imager as the universe slipped away in front of them and transpace imposed its whiteness.

"Maximum acceleration unavailable," said Dyna.

"I should've known that," Suni said. "There's probably too much structural damage."

"Affirmative."

"Okay. How long's this going to take?" Suni asked.

Sandy looked over her imager and replied, "Three days, fifteen hours."

"That's not too bad," Tia said.

"Don't forget about the dust ghosts," Suni remarked.

"Dyna?" Anna queried.

"No effect," Dyna replied. "ETA confirmed."

"Anna, are you getting anything?" Suni asked.

"Scanners don't work in transpace, Suni."

"How about a visual? Black holes should be easy to spot in transpace."

"Nothing. There's nothing out there," Anna replied.

"I don't know if that's good or bad. But if they were here, they would've done something by now. I'm going to back to bed. I've missed too much sleep already," said Suni.

"Take a couple extra hours, Suni. We can do a little overtime."

"Thank you, Anna."

Suni started to leave the bridge to head back for some sleep, but stopped before reaching the door and turned around. "Anna, send a drone back to Iskol. Tell Frank that we’re alright and that we’ll return. And have it find out about him."

"Aye, Suni. Get some rest."

Suni turned again and left the bridge.

Three days and fifteen hours later the Butterworth made orbit around the black hole it had first encountered many days earlier. Michelle and Nikki were at the com. Sandy and Anna were preparing for the graveyard shift and had decided to arrive early for debreak. Everyone else had come up to watch also, except Maria, who was still in sick bay.

Maria was awake and taking food now, but still unable to leave her bed. Everyone visited her often, so she had plenty of company. Dyna said, in three more days Maria would be able to get up and move around, although her left arm was still paralyzed. More operations would be needed to bring it back to usefulness.

After debreak and orbit around the black hole, everyone else cleared the bridge and Sandy and Anna took over the midnight to morning shift. The night was uneventful, so Sandy and Anna discussed what sort of changes they would like to see to make the Butterworth a little more battle-worthy than it had been.

First thing the next morning there was a meeting on the bridge. All crewmembers were there except Maria, who watched and listened over the ship’s comlink. Suni opened the proceedings.

"Good morning, everyone. You too, Sahn," Suni greeted, and then took a little sip of coffee.

"Good morning," they said back.

"We have with us some of the brightest people from our homeworld. We have, probably, the fastest and most powerful starship in the galaxy. We have the most sophisticated computer that anyone knows of. Several days ago they beat the hell out of us. Why?"

At first no one spoke. The pause went on for almost a minute before Dyna finally broke in.

"I have an analysis," she said.

"Go on, Dyna."

"This is an exploratory and pleasure craft, not designed for battle." Dyna had summed it up in a sentence and the fact stared at them.

"She's right," Heidi said. "We thought we had what we needed to take care of ourselves, and we didn't."

"Frank warned me about this long ago," said Nikki. "In fact, he warned all of us. I remember he said to make sure everyone got his message. He said it long before we made landfall on Iskol."

"That's true, Nikki," Michelle said, "but we got his message and did what we knew best to do. If we hadn't, we would not have escaped. We can thank him for that."

"Something on scan," Paddy interrupted.

"What?" Suni said, confused.

"Dronebot! It's back!"

"Bring it in! Bring it in!" Michelle said, excitedly.

"Hurry, hurry." said Tia.

They waited tensely as the lone machine returned from its two hundred lightyear trip. Dyna made the drone's announcement.

"Frank sends his regards."

"Oh thank God he's alive," Nikki said, as tears welled up in her eyes.

"Thank you," Paddy said, also with a dab of wetness in her eyes.

"It's incredible," Sandy muttered to herself, looking away, "He got my message."

Sahn, a little confused, finally asked, "What is it?"

"Oh hoho," Anna said, happily, "Frank is alive."

Sahn grasped the meaning to be that the Chosen One was still alive. She had never actually realized that he had been in danger. "Oh," she said.

"What's the rest of the message," Suni asked.

"He says he's in hiding from the Iskolian government. The slaves are taking care of him along with Trong, Crush and Mangle, who saved his life and helped him escape during the takeover. The Emperor has been overthrown and Lord Wellum is the new head of state."

"I knew it. It was a coup," Anna said.

"He instructs us to stay away from Iskol until we have a viable plan for getting him off the planet," Dyna went on, "He also advises that we need to work on the hull and the weapons systems."

"How thick is the hull now?" Tia asked.

"Less than two millimeters," Paddy replied. "But when you consider that it's neutronium, it's equivalent to twenty-three meters of solid iron. Nothing can punch through it."

"Something did," Suni reminded her.

"I don't know how," she argued. "A thousand megaton nuclear bomb couldn't even scratch the surface. Whatever hit us was superheavy."

"We've already determined that it was," Suni reminded her. "But don't forget that neutronium structure is maintained by nuclear force wavefields. If those wavefields are disrupted, the neutronium breaks down and decays into ordinary matter."

"Then what can we do?" Tia asked.

"We can thicken the hull," Michelle answered, "We can reinforce the structural components, and improve the nuclear wavefield matrix."

"But the ship isn't big enough for all that," Paddy argued, "If we add even a millimeter to the outer hull, we'd have to build much larger drive units to push us along. We're using forty million g-force of drives to push us along already. And those four drives occupy most of the back end of the ship."

"I've considered that," Michelle responded. "Anna and I have been working on a new drive unit. It's a one hundred million g-force drive, and we'd planned on building eight of them to mount externally at the aft end of the ship. If you like, you can triple the hull thickness. These eight new drives won't be phased in the least."

"Then we should do that," Paddy agreed, "Triple the hull thickness and add the eight new drives. We can use the four old drives to increase the power to the nuclear wavefield generators. The new bigger ones we'll have to make to support the increased mass of the ship."

"I like all of those ideas," Suni interrupted, "Unless there are any objections, we must start right away."

"One problem," Paddy said, "Where are you going to get the matter we need?"

"From there," Michelle answered, pointing at the main imager, where the black hole was displayed.

"If we remove it or change its mass, they'll know we did it. And they'1l know what we can do."

"We can do it," Maria said weakly over the comlink, "without being detected. We can use gravity field generators to simulate its presence. Build a shell around it and keep the shell hidden below the gravity field."

"Yes. That can be done," Sandy said slowly, "I think. It would take time."

"It would make an excellent hideout," Nikki suggested.

"True," Suni said, thoughfully.

"I think we should do it," Paddy agreed.

"I agree," Suni confined.

"I think we need to talk about the weapons systems," Tia said.

"She's right," Nikki agreed, "The only weapons we had that did any good were the neutron torpedoes. Problem is, for every fifteen we fired, only one made a mark."

"And the tachyon cannons barely worked against their missiles. I had to beat their ships to death with tachyons before they were even disabled," Tia confined.

"We need to boost the power to those systems," Sandy remarked. Up to now all of those systems have been feeding off the main drives. If we build eight new drives, we can use one of the old ones and dedicate it to the weapons systems. We'll have to build bigger cannons to handle the extra power, but if we're going to build the bigger engines, we'll have plenty of time to do that."

"That sounds feasable," Suni concurred. "What about the neutron torpedoes?"

"They need bigger drives also," Anna said, "The enemy ships were evading our torpedoes, and the torpedoes couldn't generate enough power to change course fast enough."

"Then we need to modify the assembly line on the neutron torpedoes. Analyze the last battle and see how much more power they need," Suni suggested.

"Will do, Suni," Anna said.

"Now, what about the black hole people?" Suni asked. "How do we defend against them?"

"Won't neutron torpedoes work against them?" Heidi asked.

"No," Sandy answered, "They would stall in the event horizon. The people inside would have them disarmed before the torpedoes went two meters."

"Then what?"

"A KC engine," Michelle said.

"Kiruna-Corbyn."

"Yes," Heidi agreed, thoughtfully, "Attack a black hole with a black hole. Will it work?"

"I don' see why not," Michelle replied.

"Well, ladies," Suni interrupted, "Let's get busy. We have a lot of work to do, and no time to do it. Frank's waiting for us. Dyna, do you have a time estimate for completion of all the modifications?"

"I have an initial estimate of sixteen weeks, Suni," Dyna replied.

"Eh?"

Sixteen

Eight weeks had passed since the overthrow of the Iskolian government, and a week since Frank had heard from his ship. He had been happy to hear that his crew was alive and safely away from Iskol. Unfortunately, still in hiding, he was a prisoner of Iskol. He stayed underground most of the time, and on rare occassions, ventured out at night, peering up at the stars wistfully. It reminded him of earlier days when he was still a prisoner of Earth's gravity. The slaves and the bots made such a noise about his wandering outside at night that he did not do it very often, for the trouble of having to listen to their complaints.

Three times now, he had been forced to seek new shelter, as the Iskolian searchers closed in, and even once, almost caught him. He had only escaped with minutes to spare. Several slaves had died protecting the knowledge of his whereabouts. Frank was not told this because they knew that if he were, he would give himself up. Even Trong and the other bots allowed this information to go untold, for they knew the consequences as well.

Frank spent most of his time watching the holo-set. It turned out to be about as entertaining as Earth TV, but a little more developed. He needed only to imagine that the characters were human before he really began to enjoy it. Escaping Earth TV, however, did not allow him escape from the scourge of Earth TV, which must be, he guessed, the scourge of television everywhere in the universe—TV commercials.

Net continued to grow and expand, sending its children out into the galaxy with the single-minded intent of governing it in Frank's name. This bothered Frank since he really did not want anything to do with governing the galaxy, but more importantly, he wondered whether he had unleashed something dangerous. And even though his machines said differently, he knew that machines were basically unfeeling and unemotional—unable to comprehend the human, or life condition, how would they deal with kindness or despair, happiness or want?

Frank was not certain that he could stop it. One 'bot had already overridden his direct order so that it could 'preserve the body'. He might expect more of this logic if he ordered Net to shut down.

At any rate, Net was the only reason he was still alive, so he allowed it to continue. His main concern now was getting back to his starship or getting his starship back to him.

"See those two bluish stars right there," Frank said, pointing into the brilliant night sky, "My homeworld lies somewhere between them. Actually a lot further away, but in that direction."

"You miss your homeworld, don't you," Shuma replied.

"Not as much as I should. Perhaps I miss my people. I need the company of the ones I love."

"I too, miss ones that I love."

"But your people are all around. How can you miss them?"

"I was taken from my homeworld when I was young, but still old enough to know and remember those I left behind. My brother and I were captured together. I was brought here to serve our Iskolian masters. My brother was sold and taken to another world far away."

"How do you know this?"

"Friends… friends told me."

"That is unfortunate."

Shuma did not reply immediately, but seemed thoughtful for a moment. "You must be getting back to safety soon. We’ve been out here too long already."

"I suppose you won’t leave me alone until I go back into that hole again."

"As always, if I must."

"Don’t bother. I give up."

"That is wise."

The two arose from the small clearing and returned to the tunnel entrance, climbed down and returned to Frank’s room. Trong had posted himself at the tunnel entrance and followed as they walked through the small corridor.

Frank prepared himself for sleep, still armored in his skinsuit, which he longed to remove. The slaves and the warbots would not hear of it, no matter how much he complained.

"Sir," Trong interrupted his nightly ritual, "there is word from the Butterworth. A plan has been formulated for your escape. Net is making the arrangements. You are to be smuggled aboard a freighter which will rendezvous with the Butterworth at a designated point away from this system."

Frank said nothing, but looked over at Shuma, who appeared as though her whole family had died.

"I won’t forget your cause," Frank said to her.

"I know," Shuma replied, and then she left.

"So when do I leave?"

"In three days time," Trong answered.

"I'll sleep very well tonight."

"That is good to know."

Frank did not sleep well that night. In fact, he hardly slept at all. In his tossing and turning, he was unable to detach himelf from the plight of the Relmish people. He had sworn not to become involved in local politics, but this thing would not go away.

Frank awoke early the next morning, groggy, but excited. Apparently, the conflict he bore had settled itself during the early hours of the morning.

Breakfast was more of the slave food cubes with water. Frank longed for a nice "bacon'n'eggs" breakfast and was almost able to taste it as he consummed the cubes and considered his impending freedom.

He finished eating and Trong began going over the plan, which was, according to Net, fool-proof. Shuma and Clung arrived a few minutes later.

"Please, you must let us speak with him."

"He is occupied at the moment. Can you come back later?"

Frank heard the commotion outside his room and inquired about it, "What is it, Crush?"

"Slaves wish to speak with you, sir," Crush replied, turning about to face him.

"It is not good timing," Trong said to Frank.

"I know. This can wait, though. Let them in."

Crush stepped around and ushered the two slaves into the room.

"We know that you're leaving us," Shuma began, looking at Frank, "but you must allow us to help. We have concern here."

"It is not necceseary," Trong replied, "Everything has been arranged."

"Please," Shuma implored him, "you must let us help. There's much we can do."

Frank regarded Shuma for a moment, then Clung, who also looked at him imploringly, then at Trong, and again at Shuma.

"Why?" he asked her. "Why risk your lives one more moment for me?"

"Is it not obvious?" she asked in reply.

"No… it isn't." Frank watched her eyes as tears welled inside them. He couldn't stand it and gave in. "Alright. You can help. Trong?"

"There is nothing we know of that they can do."

"Tell Net to make a new plan, and include them."

"Compliance."

"Let me know when the new plan is ready."

"Compliance."

"Thank you, thank you so much."

"I should thank you. You've done everything for me. You've risked your lives to keep me alive. It's the least I can do to grant you this. But that doesn't mean that I've forgotten about your situation."

"Yes," the word fell away from her, she was so happy.

Later that afternoon the new plan, which included the slaves, was revealed to slave and human alike.

"This plan provides an additional measure of safety without compromising the safety of the new participants," Trong explained, referring to the slaves. "They will provide a distraction to the patrollers during the most uncertain time of our escape. Crush, Batter and I will, of neccessity, be stored in shipping crates to be processed for shipment by Net operatives. You will be disguised as a Kinorian Shipman," he said to Frank, "This module will help with the disguise when it is plugged into your skinsuit. If I may?" Trong opened his palm, revealing the device.

"Sure," Frank said, turning. He removed his shirt, exposing the neutronium skinsuit primary control unit. With liquid dexterity, Trong placed the disguising module on the control unit, which quietly accepted it.

Immediatly, Frank began changing shape, and in a few moments he appeared as a completely different being.

The slaves looking on gawked at the spectacle. "Unbelieveable!" Shuma exclaimed.

"I've never seen anything like this before," said Clung.

"A Kinorian!"

"Ugly, but surely Kinorian."

"Ahhgh," Frank reported, "I'm in pain. This hurts like hell!"

"An anesthetic can be applied, if neccesary," Trong replied.

"Not now, just take it off!" As soon as he said it the new shape went away and his pain was relieved. "Oh—that's better."

"You need only command your skinsuit, and the disguise will return," Trong explained, "It is also programmed to provide local anesthesia to relieve pain from the shape change. Your disguise will require that you dress in these clothes." Trong lifted a box from the table and opened it, showing Frank his escape attire.

"I don't think I'll be turning that thing on again for a while."

Frank spent the next two days going over the escape plan in detail and trying on his new clothes. He tried on his new body once more but was quickly reminded of the pain it inflicted and did not try it again. Two days passed quickly for him.

"We must leave you now, sir," Trong reported in the afternoon. "The shipping crates have arrived. We'll be monitoring your progress, but from now until the freighter ship rendezvous with the Butterworth, you'll be on your own. Good luck to you, sir."

"Good luck to you, Trong."

With that, Trong, Crush and Batter left, hopefully to be delivered to the escape ship.

Frank turned away as his three guardians left. He thought he would pity the poor Iskolian soul that errantly discovered one of them. He felt alone.

But the feeling did not last long. Shuma and Clung returned shortly after the warbots left.

"You remember the plan now, Shuma?"

"How can I forget, Frank. You've gone over it a life's supply!"

"I just don't want anyone to get hurt."

"Everything will be fine, don't worry. We have to go now. We'll see you at the spaceport."

"Good luck."

"What?"

"Oh—that's an Earth phrase. I guess it means 'Uunta go with you'."

"Oh. And may Uunta go with you, Frank Jameson. Goodbye.

"Goodbye."

Now he was alone. But he knew the plan well. In four hours he would 'don' his disguise, go to the planet surface and hop on the regularly scheduled public tram. His excuse for being out so far would be that he was intoxicated, got lost and slept by the road the night before.

These had to be some of the longest hours of his life. He spent the time considering what to do about the Relmish slaves, and wondering if it would be worth seeking revenge on Lord Wellum for attempting to murder him. He thought about the Okofani, who had almost killed Maria. He wondered how Maria was doing. Reports from the Butterworth had been coded, but brief.

Four hours later a light 'beep' in his ear told him it was time for him to leave.

"Disguise—on," he said, and his body took its new shape. "Uhgg, anesthesia—on." The anesthesia came and quickly routed the pain of his new form. He made his way to the surface and walked quietly to the nearest public tram station, which turned out to be about three hundred meters down the dirt farm road.

The tram arrived on schedule and Frank boarded it. The tram carried two lone Iskolian passengers, who both looked at him suspiciously but asked no questions and made no remarks.

The tram went through eight more stations before it finally arrived back in the Imperial City, at which point Frank disembarked.

The tram station was jammed with Iskolians and a few off-worlders who, like himself, received occassional wondering stares.

Twenty minutes later, the spaceport tram arrived and he boarded it. It was a ten-minute ride to the spaceport.

Arriving at the spaceport, he quickly found an access route and made his way to the lower levels. Apparently, his disguise was holding up well, since he had not been arrested yet.

Patrollers were everywhere, and sometimes stopped him. He simply flashed his fake I.D. and continued on his way.

He arrived at the crew entrance, at which point a high desk barred his way. Behind the desk were Iskolian customs officials.

"Orders, please," the Iskolian requested.

Frank pulled out the forged orders and handed them to the official, who took them and looked them over.

"Here is your boarding key," the Iskolian said after a few moments, handing him a small, clear disc with a finger-sized handle on it. "Put the disc in the slot when you board the port-tram—it'll take you directly to your craft. Pass through."

"Thank you," Frank replied.

He passed through the entrance into the tram terminal. No trams were there so he waited. A few minutes later a tram did arrive, but was tightly packed with Relmish slaves. The tram stopped and they all got out, filling the terminal to the point that they crowded him.

He knew this was not part of the plan, and if anything, was jeopardizing it.

"What's going on?" he asked a slave, bewildered.

"Freetime," the slave replied, without looking up, "time to go out."

"Oh."

Meanwhile he was trying to politely push his way through to catch his tram. The terminal was clearing as the slaves filed out, but before he could get in the tram the doors closed and the tram left.

"Damn!" he muttered under his breath. And he waited again, worrying that things were not quite on schedule now. Hopefully, he still had plenty of time and the schedule would not be too far off.

The next tram arrived bearing more slaves, but this time he waited next to the door, and when the tram was empty he entered.

"Destination, please," the tram called to him.

"Oh." He pulled out his boarding key and slid it into the keyslot.

"Thank you." the tram was appeased.

It glided through the underground corridor, stopping at intervals to pick up slaves and drop them off. Most of the slaves that got on stayed on, apparently going to enjoy their freetime. Frank minded his own business and did not say anything.

"Stop for Kalo," the tram announced, arriving at the next terminal.

He waited for the tram to go again, but the tram repeated its announcement, "Stop for Kalo."

He looked up, seeing that he was the only alien in the car. The slaves were looking at him. Finally, one of the slaves nudged him.

"You Kalo?" he asked.

"Oh… yes," he remembered, then exited the tram. "This is it," he said to himself, nervously.

On the other side of the small terminal was a freight lift. He promptly boarded it and tapped the activation panel. It was an open lift and he could see the wall sliding downward. The ride to the surface was longer than he expected. He guessed it to be two hundred meters to the top.

The lift took him straight into the guts of the freighter, and came to a stop roughly fifty meters above the surface of the spaceport.

"Ah, you da new man," the voice came from behind. He turned to face it. The creature was tall with brass-colored skin and silver fangs. It had two arms and two legs, though it was skinny and boneless in appearance.

"You go see Salba," it said, as Frank gawked at the creature. Clearly, he could see that the thing had a snout like a dog, though short, like a Pug. After a moment, it realized that Frank was staring.

"Whad da madder, you nod see my kind before? You Kinorian shipman. Dey say Kinorian besd mechanics. Bud you look like you never see udder peoples before. How many dime you fly?"

"Oh, sorry. I've never seen your kind before." "Yeah, you preddy doo. Ged going." Frank walked past the alien toward the nearest exit from the loading bay.

"Hey!" the alien called, as Frank walked past.

He turned, looking at the thing. The creature had its four-fingered hand out and Frank looked at it.

"Boarding key!" the being said, irritated.

He handed it the key given him by the Iskolian and turned again to walk away.

"Hey!"

"What!" Frank retorted.

"Dad way," the creature replied, pointing another direction, voice subdued.

He turned and walked in the direction the creature had pointed, eyeing the creature as he walked past again. Frank found a door across the large bay and went through it into a corridor. Seeing another of the tall brass-colored aliens, he stopped it.

"Where can I find Salba?" he asked.

"Salba da mechanic helper. He in da mechanic room," the creature said, pointing downward.

"Which way?"

"Wad? You da Kinorian. You nod know where da mechanic room?"

"I'm new to this ship."

"Wad ship? All ship da same."

"Just tell me which way!" Frank said, heatedly.

"Go down." the being said, again, voice stifled. "You godda hurry, ship leaving in lokada zinla - seven poind dree dree minuds," came through his skinsuit translator.

Frank was not sure why, but he had the impression that he needed to be somewhere else than here for takeoff. Leaving the alien, he moved quickly through the corridor looking for a way ‘down.’

He saw it out the corner of his eye. Stairs! By now, he guessed that he had about three minutes left to get "in place" before the ship took off. Running down the stairs, he flew past gigantic pieces of machinery, following the stairs as the skirted the outer hull of the ship.

Arriving at the bottom of the stairs, he looked up and guessed it to be thirty meters back up. He hoped he was in the right place. He began looking for Salba, peering into niches, looking for doors that might lead to a place to be during liftoff.

"Hey! You bedder hurry!"

Frank turned to his right and saw another of the creatures. Frank walked over to it.

"You Salba?"

"Yeah. And you gonna be ded you don’ ged in here!"

The two went into the room, Frank closing the door behind them. Frank watched the alien as it sat down in an odd-looking laid-down chair. He did the same. Then the creature tapped a white panel on the chair arm and was enveloped in a strange haze with discreet boundaries, like a close magnetic field of some sort. Frank tapped the white panel on his chair.

The haze gripped him like a vise to the point that he could barely breathe. A moment later the ship’s engines came alive with a roar that deafened. A moment after that, his skinsuit translator cut the sound down to a dull rumble.

He could feel the rumble as well and only tried to imagine how much power was being poured out and wasted just on noise. The starship lifted and Frank could feel the accelleration as the haze-field gripped him more tightly.

It seemed to go on for hours, though Frank knew that it was only minutes. He gasped for air, but his lungs would not work. Air came to him very slowly, as though the haze was giving in, but only gradually. He strained for air to the point of pain in his ribs. In a few more moments he would be unconcious. He could feel the power of the skinsuit working with him, but the haze only thickened at those places where the suit pushed.

The haze-field vanished completely, and he gasped the air, taking it down in gulps and coughing it back. The hard part appeared to be over but he was still pinned to his chair.

The engine roar grew louder and again, the skinsuit compensated, reducing the noise level.

"Skinsuit," Frank queried, "I'm smelling ozone. Is there a problem?"

"External ozone concentration is ninety-three percent," his skinsuit replied through his comlink, "Conversion rate was incompatable with intake rate. All systems green—no malfunctions."

He suspected that an ozone level of ninety-three percent would probably kill him almost immediately, and once again thanked Dyna for it.

"Trong? Can you hear me?"

"I hear you, sir—I'm in the cargo bay. Your signal is weak."

"Are you… functional?"

"Yes, sir. All of my systems are working well. The accelleration was very great, I measured a g-force of one-sixty-five."

"The vulaxium hull appears to be affecting radio transmissions, and even now I am boosting my signal-strength in order to reach you. We must keep communication to a minimum."

"Then why are we talking now?"

"I am compressing my messages into microsecond bursts. They will not be able to locate the source this way. You, however, may be under immediate suspicion when our acceleration is reduced to tolerable levels."

"Skinsuit, compress messages—"

"I have already directed it to do so, sir," Trong cut in.

"Thanks. One more question, I'm supposed to be the ship's mechanic. I hope you know how this stuff works, because I don't recognize any of it."

"Analysis programs are stored in your Kinorian module. Just ask your skinsuit for help."

Frank realized that an alien was gawking at him as he sat in his launch-chair, seemingly, talking to himself… or no one.

Seventeen

"Try it now," Michelle said. "Okay, here it goes," Anna responded. "It's working! The field's up. It looks just like a black hole," Paddy called. "Do we get Suni up for this?" Anna queried.

"I don't think so, let's surprise her in the morning," Michelle replied. "There's still a lot of work to do. I think we should get some sleep, we've been at this for thirty hours now."

"You've been at this for thirty hours," Anna said, "We've only been at it for fifteen. Why don't you get some sleep, Michelle, Paddy and I will show it to Suni in the morning."

"I really should stay and—"

"Go to bed! You've been up too long already. It'll be hell trying to get you off of helm duty, tomorrow. It'll be more hell if she makes you work it," Sandy ordered.

"I don't mind doing my share of helm duty. It's everyone's responsibility."

"Michelle, if I have to haul you off myself, I'll—"

"Okay, okay, I'm going."

Dyna's wake-up call had always been the most frustrating part of Suni's day. This morning was typical. There would be extended groginess straight through breakfast. The long hours and responsibilities that go with captaining a starship, even one with only nine crewmembers, took their toll. To her, every moment of sleep was a moment wasted. She needed more time! Time to get the ship in good enough shape to make the rendezvous with the freighter that carried Frank. One week remained, and it was not enough. She should not even waste time on breakfast. But she needed energy, she barely had enough to get out of bed.

A few sips of tea got her through her morning shower, then a little more tea would bring her with her morning robe to the breakfast table, where a gourmet Japanese breakfast awaited her. She took the morning reports over the com-link from Dyna as she ate. Work began immediately.

"Item fourteen, Sahn has reached grade level three in her studies and continued improvement is expected, as usual. Her learning curve remains high. Finally, item fifteen, Paddy and Anna have a surprise for you," Dyna finished.

"I don't like surprises," Suni responded.

"This is a good surprise."

"Those, I will tolerate. What is it?"

"One moment, please." A few moments passed.

"Good morning, Suni," came over the 3-D tube displaying Paddy's face.

"Good morning, Paddy, I understand you have a… surprise for me."

"We do, and it's going to make you very happy."

"I hope so." Few things made Suni happy first thing in the morning.

"This is it," Paddy said as the viewer changed, showing an image of the black hole (or lack thereof) they presently orbited. "What you're seeing here is our Event Horizon Simulator—EHS for short. We finally managed to get it working early this morning. Michelle was up thirty hours working on it."

"This is the kind of surprise I like to see," Suni was smiling. "Where is Michelle, I would like to congratulate her."

"She's asleep—we sent her to bed."

"She'll be on command duty this evening."

"We were hoping that you would see your way through to letting her off tonite. She's been working very hard."

"For this, I give her two times off command duty—as long as the rest of the crew doesn't mind."

"She really needs rest."

"I don't begrudge her that, but we do have a deadline."

"I know, I know, but I just don't see everything we need getting done in seven days."

"Five—two travel days, remember?"

"Yes, but that's even worse."

"We'll make it. This was our biggest obstacle. Now that it's out of the way, we can do some fast clean-up work—just enough to get the ship in working order. We don't have to get everything built and battle-ready until we return to Iskol."

"But we still have the black hole people to reckon with."

"I think they're gone by now."

"But if they aren't?"

"It's doubtful that they'll actually be at the rendezvous point. We only need to pick up Frank and return here to finish our modifications."

The day went by quickly, as it always did when things were rushed. Work went on late into the night, and by the time Suni was ready for sleep, she knew that, once again, she would only be getting about four hours of it. Dyna continually reprimanded her on this issue, but Suni would not hear it.

But much had been done this day. The drives needed tuning from the recent escape from Iskol, where they had been so badly abused. The hole in the ship had stressed almost every system on board—everything had to be retested and rescreened for damage and wear, and the black hole had to be simulated so that matter taken from it would not be missed. Matter from the black hole was being used to build up the outer hull of the ship and to reinforce the superstructure.

Only two of the new superdrives had been built so far, but a third would be finished in time for the rendezvous. Any one of the three could supply enough power to move the ship, so that up to two could fail and there would still be drive capability. There would not be time to test any of them, they would have to be tuned on the way to the rendezvous. There was great danger here. If all three engines failed, they would have to rely on the old drives, which would additionally be burdened with the task of generating power for the nuclear force fields that supported the ship's hull and superstructure. Without these, the entire ship would collapse from its own weight and become another black hole. Humans within of course, would be instantly crushed into oblivion.

The five remaining days went by too quickly for Suni Tashika. Today was a go or no go day. It was five A.M. and she had not been to bed yet. Instead, she had stayed up all night to make the ship ready for the trip. Many times in the night, she considered how easy it would be to drift off to sleep—just a few minutes—but she knew that if she did, it would not be just a few minutes. She would sleep soon—after the ship was underway. Then there would plenty of time to sleep. Two days of travel between here and the redezvous point would give her plenty of time for that. But right now, she had to stay up and get the ship moving.

"Coffee, Suni?" Maria asked, as Suni concentrated on the bridge console.

"Thank you, Maria. Should you be up?" she responded, looking up at Maria.

"I want to help any way I can."

"I know, and I appreciate that. But you're not fully healed yet." Maria still favored her left shoulder, though therapy and surgery continued in order to heal her injuries. No one on the ship could look at her without thinking about the vengeance that would be exacted for this atrocity.

"I'm feeling better than most everyone here."

"I don't think I can dispute that."

"Then let me help. If we miss our rendezvous, we may not get Frank back. We have to move six hours from now—ready or not."

"All right," Suni surrendered, "you can take over this console while I work on the 47A strut reinforcement problem."

"I thought Tia did that yesterday."

"She started on it. I pulled her off it to do something else."

"It'll take at least an hour to finish that, but what about implementation?"

"A couple more, but I won't be needed for that. The 'bots can do it without me."

Four hours later, Michelle, Nikki and Paddy showed up on the bridge, looking haggard and worn from going without sleep. Suni looked around as they walked in.

"Finished?" she asked.

"Uh huh," Paddy replied, "everything's ready—barely."

"What about Sandy and her group?"

"They should be done soon—a few more minutes."

Michelle and Nikki had fallen asleep in their chairs when Sandy, Anna and Tia arrived on the bridge. A few minutes later, Heidi and Sahn came in.

"We're ahead of schedule by an hour and a half," Suni announced, "Let's make use of this time to give our new drives a test run. Everyone ready?"

"I'm past ready, let's go," Sandy replied.

"I don't see any problems with that," Nikki said.

"Very well. Dyna, engage drives, ten percent power to one-half light speed… now."

The low hum of the three new super-drives barely changed as power was delivered and the ship began moving more quickly and broke its orbit around the black hole.

"Reduce our mass a little more," Suni directed.

This had the effect of increasing the ship's accelleration, and it moved more quickly. In a few more minutes, the accelleration ceased.

"We are at one-half light-speed," Dyna announced.

"Systems check?" Suni queried.

"All systems are go—the ones we need, anyway," Tia answered.

"Dyna, let's go to ninety-five percent light-speed."

"Thrust ratio?"

"Give it fifty percent thrust."

At this, the three new engines grumbled, but obeyed, and the starship accellerated again, but even more quickly. Stars about them remained stationary, since this velocity was still relatively slow in comparison to the speed they would eventually need in order to make redezvous on time.

"Ninety-five percent light-speed," Dyna anounced, again.

Suni looked around at the faces on the bridge. The next step was to break the light barrier. If anything went wrong, they would not live long enough to know about it. She saw blank faces. She was the captain; the responsibility fell on her. She made her decision quickly.

"Systems check."

"All systems are ready," Tia responded, again.

"Compute breaklight and trajectory to rendezvous."

"Computed," Dyna said.

"Initiate," Suni ordered.

"Sequence initiated," Dyna responded, "breaklight in forty-three seconds."

For Suni, forty-three seconds went by in the blink of an eye, and the forward main imager began to swirl as they were engulfed, once again, in the mesmerising flight into non-existence. The colors whirled and flowed together until finally, they found themselves in the brilliant white of transpace, with its many colored stars. Relief fell across the bridge, and the tension was broken. The hardest part was over.

"Breaklight achieved," Dyna said, breaking their trance.

"Good work, ladies. Dyna, adjust drives for eighty percent thrust. As the drives prove out, increase the thrust in small increments. I'm going to get some sleep. Maria, you have the helm. Sahn, you keep Maria company. The rest of you are off duty—get some rest."

Eighteen

It took a while, but Frank got used to his new form and duties as a Kinorian mechanic. His shipmates did not seem to suspect anything unusual about him, even though he mostly kept to himself. He was given Kinorian food to eat, but he had to pick through it to find what he liked. His daily activities involved routine maintenance of the star drive and its various components, and occasional repairs of other mechanical systems. He made sure that the star drive was maintained—the last thing he wanted was for it to break down.

Trong had stopped communicating with him early on and he thought that just as well, since there was little sense in taking chances getting caught and then exposed. Frank thought for a while that he could actually get used to this sort of life. The trip to the rendezvous point would take about three months, and it had already been two months and a few days. In his spare time, he browsed the ship’s library. However small it was, to him it was a storehouse of galactic history, which was the captain’s favorite subject. This was more than a mere coincidence, and turned out to be why there were so many disks on it.

Frank had walked in on the captain one day late in the trip while he was visiting the library, and struck up a conversation with him about it. The captain was an even greater storehouse than the library was, and enjoyed talking about it. Since Frank turned out to be a pretty good mechanic and did his job well, he became friends with the captain.

"What do you know about the Shadow Ships?" Frank asked him.

"Ahhhh, a meaty subject, that," he said in his gravelly voice. "You might be tellin’ me."

Frank stiffened for a moment, then, "How do you mean?"

"Well you were there, weren’t you—on Iskol, where it all happened?"

"I don’t understand."

"That Shadow Ship was orbiting Iskol, and then left in a mighty battle with the Okofani."

"That was a Shadow Ship?"

"Many say it was. None alive today can attest to their last appearance. There are stories and old legends about the Shadow Ships. The oldest stories of ‘em go back eight hundred thousand years or more. Least those are the one’s lasted the test of time. Some say the stories go back even further, but many of ‘em got lost in translations of translations of translations. Much of the old histories are lost that way.

"Languages change and each new translation changes the history a little. Historians wretch over it. But nought can be done about it. The most recent story is about twenty thousand years ago. They say the Shadow Ships roam all the galaxies in the universe, and that’s why we hardly hear of ‘em. Whenever one comes around, it’s a pretty big tado."

"But how would they know a Shadow Ship from any other if no one’s ever seen or heard of one, especially in twenty thousand years?"

"Why the name gives it away, don’t it? It slips through space like a shadow, leavin’ no trace. Their captains were called Shadow Riders and they were very secretive, hardly ever showin’ themselves to anyone. But this one had parked itself in the center of galactic civilization and its captain appeared before anyone who wanted to see him. Before this one showed up, no one believed they’d ever existed. They were great and powerful ships that couldn’t be seen or detected while travelin’, and could go many times faster than any other ships. They were said to be the most feared ships in the galaxy—and not just this galaxy."

"But they ran away from the Okofani."

"And that’s another thing. There’s some sayin’ wasn’t the Okofani they were runnin’ from. Some say it was another Shadow Ship."

"Nobody believes that story. I heard the images were retouched to make it look like weapons fire came from an invisible ship. They say people just didn’t want to believe that the Okofani could beat up a Shadow Ship and make it run."

"That’s the official view, of course. Local governments didn’t want people gettin’ all scared so they confiscated the images and said they’d been forged. But word has it through some o’ my friends—other captains—that there were two Shadow Ships present durin’ that battle. And if that other Shadow Ship hadn’t showed, this one woulda tarred them Okofani good and left ‘em hurtin’."

"I hear plenty of rumors among the other crewmembers. They seem to be split about this. Other rumors too, especially about how the captain of the shadow ship blasted his way through an army of Okofani warriors and escaped," Frank replied.

"The Okofani are the most dreaded and feared race in the galactic hub. They’re fierce and powerful warriors, and their starships are equally dangerous. And there’s no denyin’ that captain is still missin’. The government’s sayin’ they don’t have ‘im, and who’s to be believed? An’ there’s no body to be found, so likely he did blast his way through that army. The palace was crawlin’ with Okofani, but no sign of the Shadow Rider himself. How can they explain that?"

"Maybe he was vaporized."

"Hmmm… not likely. The Okofani like to stand over their killed prey and boast about it. This one woulda been a prize to make any Okofani warrior the head of an army. He’d have the body stuffed and mounted and show it off to his friends. No, this one got away. And he rightly, as far as I’m concerned, killed a thousand of them Okofani before he left."

"You don’t like the Okofani?"

"I can’t believe you’re askin’. They’re mean and boastful folk. Wherever they go there’s trouble and killin’. The galaxy’d be a better place without ‘em. Haven’t ya ever had a run-in with one?"

"If I did, I wouldn’t have known it at the time."

"Well, you’d know it if ya did. It’s how I lost this leg." The captain pulled up a trouser leg and showed it to Frank. Frank looked at the alien’s leg and couldn’t tell a thing artificial about it.

"It looks okay to me."

"Ah! It’s mechanical. I didn’t even get in an argument with the grub. He just told me to move and I wasn’t fast enough for his likin’."

"How long ago was that?"

"Hmmm… musta been nigh on twenty years ago, back when they was layin’ seige to Larthamon. I came in on a freighter. I was first mate then and we didn’t know the place had been attacked. So we arrived and they told us to drop our shipment and leave. I was orderin’ the men like I always did when we were unloading and this Okofani officer came around and thought I was sloughin’ off. He tol’ me to get to work and I told him I was workin’ and that was that. The bastard shot me in my leg. After that, I keep an ear on the wave and avoid them Okofani when I can."

"But you didn’t this time."

"That’s true. They couldn’t get no captains to come around Iskol, what with them Okofani warships hangin’ about, so the pay for shippin’ just kept goin’ up and up. It went up so high I couldn’t resist. I offered the crew a big bonus and we all agreed to take a shipment. I figured you was just tryin’ to get off that miserable planet."

"I was. But I saw hardly any Okofani while I was there."

"That’s odd. The Okofani don’t usually land on a planet without takin' control of it."

"It was a coup, as I recall. The Duke had his own military, but it wasn’t big enough to take over the government, so he made a deal with the Okofani. What I heard before I left was that Iskol is building weapons and ships for the Okofani."

"Seems to me that duke’s made a deal with the devil to get what he wanted. And deals like that, the devil usually gets the bigger half. I guess he musta thought he was buyin’ himself an empire, and what he probably bought was a front row seat in Hell. When those Okofani get done with their other little wars, they’ll be comin’ back ‘round to finish this little tidbit o’ business. We’ll not be around for that."

"You’re not going back for another shipment?"

"Ya throw the dice once and ya get lucky. Ya might even throw ‘em a second time and get lucky. But sooner or later luck catches up to ya, and we got way too much to lose. No, Kalo, this trip’ll make us a lot of money, but it’s the one time only. We’re not gonna chance it again."

"If other captains are talking that way, the shipping pay will keep going up."

"Yup."

So things went.

Nineteen

Net scattered quickly to nearby star systems. The factory drone planted below the Iskolian ocean floor had all of the Iskolbots it needed and was producing new bots of whatever form it deemed necessary. These were supplied with identity papers and histories by the current force of Iskolbots that had infiltrated the Iskolian Public Service System. It was barely noticed that the Iskolian Public Service System had, over the past several months, become far more efficient than it had ever been in the past.

In the absence of direction from Dyna or Frank, Net was carrying out its mandate; spy for the Master. In addition, Net would gather information, make investments in Frank's name and create social trends that would help achieve the Master's goals. On this world as any other, the master's current goal was to end the enslavement of the Relmish people. The imprisonment of the Emperor and the changeover of government did not impede Net's progress. If anything, it had helped to move the process along.

New positions had been created in the government and Net moved in, taking its place among the power brokers. It was with this kind of power that Net began taking and purporting the view that slavery was wrong. Subtle hints, dropped here and there, in a society that, heretofore had kept its anti-slavery proponents in check, brought them out of the woodwork and into the public conciousness. It would not be much longer before owning slaves would become a thing that invoked disdain.

The Emperor had been imprisoned, and Lord Wellum had become the new Emperor, with the aid of the Okofani, who now had a few garrisons of Okofani soldiers stationed on Iskol and several warships in orbit. These, Wellum needed to keep order, since there were still many troops and factions loyal to the old Emperor. Still, he had some concern about this new anti-slavery sentiment growing among the people, especially since it appeared coincident with his takeover of the government.

Certainly people knew that he would have no part in such a movement. Still, there were factions clearly capable of moving against him, and it could not hurt too much to have some new allies. The new anti-slavery groups were gaining momentum, and he needed to be rid of the Okofani terror he had enlisted in his bid for power. He had agreed to build weapons and warships for them, and along the way, he would become immensely wealthy and powerful. Iskol could even build a few additional weapons and warships for itself. They would be needed when the Okofani finished their wars on the other side of the galactic hub and decided that it was time to claim Iskol as one of their prizes.

So Wellum had decided to sell his slaves. Though he would not openly voice support for the movement, he would also not oppose it. To do so would invite open opposition from the other side.

Twenty

Captain Suni Tashika of the Butterworth, now given the title Shadow Ship by the locals, faced the captain of the freighter, in the main view screen, she had taken the Butterworth to rendezvous with, asking where Frank was. She was of course, asking for the Kinorian mechanic named Kalo.

"I know of no person aboard my vessel with that name. You are the Shadow Ship, aren't you?" the captain said in awe.

"You were supposed to take on a Kinorian shipman at Iskol. Did that not happen?" Suni badgered him.

"We were supposed to, but he never showed up. The only things we have are three crates. We were supposed to meet a ship at these coordinates and hand them over. We never imagined it would be the Shadow Ship."

"This is not the 'Shadow Ship'," Suni replied, irritated.

"It sure looks like it to me. It's the very one that I saw in those holos… unless you've just made a grand copy of it. And I think I remember seeing your image in some of those holos. You people are all over the news. I don't think you're going to be able to hide who you are. They're looking for you everywhere. Where have you been?"

"For the last time, this is NOT the Shadow Ship. If you're referring to the old ones of the legends we've heard of, there's not a one of us who could possibly be that old. We're coming aboard your ship to look for the Kinorian."

"Captain, we have schedules to meet. We really need to hand over the crates and be moving along."

"That's not going to happen until we search for the rest of the cargo we asked to be delivered."

"Your Kinorian…"

"Our Kinorian."

"It seems we're at your mercy. Please be kind enough to be expedient."

"We'll be boarding shortly."

Sandy and Michelle boarded the new shuttle to make the crossing to the freighter. The new shuttle was faster, sleeker and more powerful. Its weapons and armaments had been vastly improved over that of the old shuttle and it had a stronger hull. When they stepped aboard the freighter to look for Frank, they were not wearing skinsuits; they were wearing warsuits. Warsuits were more obvious than skinsuits. At first glance, they are more intimidating, it being obvious to whomever might look upon them, that these suits were made for battle.

Joining Sandy and Michelle were Smash and Bash; two warbots that had improvements even over Trong. There was no difficulty getting cooperation from the captain or crew of the freighter in the search for Frank. The three crates holding the warbots Trong, Mangle and Crush were loaded into the shuttle while they looked for him.

"We've gone over every inch of this vessel, Suni. We've scanned and double-scanned every nook and cranny. He's not here," Sandy told her over the secure microset.

"It can't be. Net says he boarded this vessel. He's not on Iskol. Did you check the ship's records?"

"We've taken the computer apart. There is no record of him boarding. There is also no record of this vessel stopping anywhere since it left Iskol."

"Could they have dumped him into space?"

"Not without stopping. That's the nature of the vulaxium hull. If any part of the exterior is not made of pure vulaxium, say like the opening of an external hatch, the entire vessel is destroyed. I don't think they would have risked even trying something like that."

Suni frowned at her frustration, then aimed her next comment at the freighter captain.

"Captain, if I find that you've done something to this person and are not telling me, I promise that I will hunt you down and make you pay for it."

"I assure you, Captain, we took no Kinorian on at Iskol. I don't know what happened to him. Even if he were trying to hide from the authorities, I would not dump him into space or anything like that. By most laws and treaties, I am obliged to lock him up and deliver him to them at my next port-o-call. We're just shippers, Captain. We want no trouble."

"Okay, Sandy. You and Michelle head back. If he didn't get on this freighter, then maybe he got on another one. There'll have to be a record of that somewhere."

"Aye, Suni. We're on our way."

Twenty-One

"Skinsuit malfunction?"

"Affirmative," Frank's skinsuit replied.

"But aren't you self-repairing?"

"Affirmative."

"Then affect repairs."

"Unable to comply."

"Why?"

"This is an external malfunction. This suit is unable to repair external devices."

"External devices? The Kinorian module?"

"Affirmative."

"It seems to be working fine."

"It will fail in approximately six hours."

"I'll look like a human again?"

"Affirmative."

Frank headed back to the Mechanic’s Room and sent Salba on an errand, then contacted the captain.

"What's so important that ya've got ta see me in the library right now, Kalo?" the captain demanded, "Can't it wait?"

"I'm sorry, Captain. This is very important. It's an emergency."

"Ship in danger?"

"No! No, not at all," Frank said.

"Then it can wait."

"Captain, it really can't wait. I must see you right away."

"Fine, I'll meet you in the ship's library."

"Alone, Captain. Please."

"Alright. Alone."

Frank headed up to the ship's library. Going through the corridors, he passed three other crewmembers and could not help wondering how he was going to manage this without running into others for the next few days. And there was no errand he could send Salba on for that long. When he got to the library, the captain was waiting for him.

"So what's this all about, Kalo."

"I need your help, Captain."

"You need money…"

"No. You see, the thing is…"

"Speak it, Kalo."

"I'm… not really who I seem to be."

"Oh?"

"Well… I needed to get off Iskol… because they're looking for me."

"Ah. Well, I guess it won't be the first time I've come across a crewman on the run."

"Ah… I'm really on the run. You see, it's not just the Iskolians looking for me, others are too."

"Which others?"

"Well, remember how much you love the Okofani?"

"You on the run from them?" he said, a little taken aback, "What the hell ya do, son?"

"I… ah… killed several of them."

"Whoa. Now I'm not believin' ya. I'm pretty sure no Kinorian could take out an Okofani… well, maybe one, on dumb luck. But not several."

"Uh… I'm not Kinorian."

"Really? There's more, then?"

"Yes. I'm that Shadow Rider you were talking about. But my ship really isn't a Shadow Ship. I've never heard of them, and I'm certainly not even old enough to have been around that long."

"Kalo, I think I might have to confine you to quarters for the rest of the trip. I believe you've lost yer mind."

"That would be perfect, Captain. So long as no one comes into my quarters."

"Can't do that. We have to check on ya. Anytime someone shows signs of mental breakdown, we're bound to keep an eye on 'em."

"Then I guess I'll have to show you," Frank gave to his skinsuit the command to shut down the Kinorian module. In moments, he shifted back to his human form. The captain gasped for a moment, then just stared at him.

"Captain?"

"I'm seein' it. I ain't believin' it."

"It's true. It's how I escaped Iskol. I'm him. I'm the one they're hunting for."

"All this time, right here on my ship," he said, amazed, "Nobody knows where ya are—who ya are! Don't that just beat all."

"You must not tell anyone, Captain."

"Musn't I?"

"No. If they find out where I am, my people will find out where I am. And wherever we stop they'll be waiting. You can bet there'll be a battle. I'm sure you don't want your ship getting caught up in the middle of something like that."

The captain paused and thought for a moment. "No. I don't want my ship mixed up in that. We'll have to keep ya secret. But why ya tellin' me all this? Yer cover was good. Nobody suspected ya of anythin'."

"Because my disguise is about to fail. In about five hours, the module that makes me look like a Kinorian will fail, and I'll appear completely human for the rest of the trip."

"Achhhhh. This is bad. We'll have ta hide ya. If any of the other crewmembers see ya, he'll be sure to gab 'bout it. And not after long, somebody outside the ship'll find out. Won't be long 'fore the Okofani are on our tail."

"Yes, but how?"

"It's only six more days 'til landfall on Relm. We'll think of—"

"Relm? What happened to the rendezvous we're supposed to make?"

"Rendezvous? There's no rendezvous. This is a straight trip to Relm."

"We were supposed to rendezvous with another ship along the way. It's my ship. They're to pick me up and collect a shipment of three crates."

"Never heard o' such a thing, Ka… I don't suppose yer real name is Kalo either, is it?"

"No, it's Frank Jameson."

"Frank Jameson. Okay Frank Jameson—"

"You can call me Frank."

"Alright, Frank. I can hide ya as far as Relm. But then what?"

"I'm not sure. Do you have any spare shipping crates?"

"Everything gets inspected before it leaves the ship. They'd open it and find ya."

"I have protectors with me… I think." At that moment, Frank attempted to contact Trong, and waited for the response. After a few moments, he spoke again. "I may not have protectors with me."

"You mean the three crates ya speak of. Yer protectors wouldn't be them three big fightin' robots, would they?"

"They would be, but they're not answering my hails."

"Sounds ta me like ya got on the wrong ship, while they mighta got on the right one."

"That was supposed to be impossible. I can't think of anything that could have gone wrong. The whole plan was fool-proof."

"Well, that mighta been the error right there—thinkin' it was fool-proof."

"They gave me everything I needed. The only change was when we included the sla—"

"The what?"

"The slaves. In the plan. We changed the plan to allow the slaves to participate in my escape. They must've done it, somehow."

"Done what?"

"Changed my boarding key. When I was in the tram station, the station was packed with slaves. One of them must have picked my pocket—exchanged my boarding key for this one. Then I got on the wrong ship, while my protectors got on the right ship."

"Now why would slaves be wantin' ya ta go ta Relm?"

"They believe I'm here to set them free."

"You?"

"I didn't inspire them, if that's what you mean."

"Then who did?"

"Some shaman on their planet—Relm."

"Seems ta me they seen ya comin' with that big ship o yer's an' all that power ya got, an they seen their savior."

"They had evidence to back up their claims—evidence that existed long before I ever arrived here."

"Here? What da ya be meanin' by 'here'?"

"Here, at the galactic hub."

"The galac—how far do ya come from, son?"

"Very far. Farther than these ships could go in a hundred years."

"By god… ya really are the Shadow Rider. And how long did it take ya ta get ta the galactic hub?"

"A few days."

"Whoa! No ship goes that fast," he almost whispered.

"Faster, if I leave the galaxy."

"What's this? Nobody ever talked about leavin' the galaxy. There's far too much space 'tween galaxies. It'd take one o' these ships ten thousand years to cross. No ship could carry that much fuel."

Frank dodged the rest of that conversation. Saying more could tell not only the captain, but also others about his ship's capabilities.

"If the slaves were that organized that they could do this, they may have a plan for getting me off the ship and out of the spaceport. I'm willing to bet that there'll be someone waiting for me when we arrive."

"Not unless they planned it well in advance of yer departin. An' then warned their pals on Relm ahead of ya."

"They may have."

"I'll be hopin' yer right. 'Cause if yer not, we'll both be boilin' in oil 'fore that day's over. But I'd rather take a chance gettin' caught with ya than gettin' caught in a battle 'tween the Okofani and yer people."

"Then I'll be in my quarters for the rest of the trip."

"Ya can't. Well, ya can for the next few days, but for the last couple hours of the trip, you'll need to be in an acceleration chair. There are none in the crew quarters."

"I can shut the module down now, and that should give me a couple hours at least, when I'll be able to use it. It might even give me time to get out of the spaceport. But I'd have to shut it down soon."

"Then, we get ya ta yer quarters and I'll quarantine ya. Nobody'll mess with ya ifen they don't have ta."

Frank spent the rest of the trip in his quarters. The captain brought him his food and made sure that no one else went into his room. There, he browsed through more of the library files via the ship's network and chatted with the captain about the history of the galaxy.

During this time, the captain took certain enjoyment in being one of the few captains in the universe to spend hours on end conversing intimately with the Shadow Rider about the history of the universe, and whatever else came up. This would be a story handed down to his grandchildren and on for several generations beyond. This story would likely make him famous. But the captain also found himself liking Frank, whom he often referred to as Kalo.

Two hours before deceleration, the captain came to Frank's room and let him know it was time. Frank once again switched on his Kinorian disguise and was immediately reminded of the pain it caused. He instructed his skinsuit to apply the anesthesia and walked down to his deceleration seat.

"External module will fail in three point six hours," his skinsuit advised him. This would give him an hour and thirty-six minutes to clear the spaceport after they landed.

Since the time he had first gotten aboard the ship, he had reviewed the instructions for operating the acceleration/deceleration seat, and found that the first time he had gotten into the seat, he had failed to turn it on. This explained why the acceleration he had endured the first time had been so great. Properly used, he should not experience more than a few G's of acceleration. This time, he would make sure to do so.

Deceleration began only a few moments after he got into the seat, and persisted for the next hour, while the ship slowed for descent into Relm Spaceport. Once deceleration was completed, Frank made his way to the bridge and got a glimpse of Relm from the space above it. It was a blue-green world with white caps at its poles. Ocean covered the majority of its surface, having only a single continent that was green and mountainous. Its sky was spattered with white clouds, and over the ocean west of the continent, deep in the southern hemisphere, a gigantic storm raged.

It took another hour for the ship to make landfall on the western coast of the continent. Within minutes after landing, the captain escorted Frank to the fastest way off the ship and along the way gave him instructions for the fastest way out of the spaceport.

He exited the ship through the crew port, which was the one nearest the bottom of the ship. Only within a few meters of the exit, he was met by an Iskolian port agent and was asked for his papers. He presented them to the agent.

"Says you're Kinorian, here. Your ship's leaving again in six hours. What's your business leaving your ship?" the agent asked.

"I planned to purchase some souvenirs of this planet," Frank replied.

"You can get those in the gift shops here in the port."

"True, but the prices would be inflated and I'm sure I'd rather have a wider selection to choose from if I get them outside the port."

"The prices won't be all that different outside," the agent confided, "You might do better going to the poor side of town, where you can pick up some of the stuff made by the locals."

"Thank you," Frank replied.

"Your visa's good for six hours. Have a good view."

"I will."

Frank thought the agent seemed friendly enough, unlike the agents he had met going through the spaceport on Iskol. He checked his time and found that he had about an hour and twenty minutes to get clear before his Kinorian module failed. It took half an hour to get clear of the spaceport, and Frank took the Iskolin port agent's suggestion and headed for the poor side of town. There, he expected to run into some of the locals who hopefully, would recognize him when the module failed, and remove him from the city.

He found a map of Relm City and scanned it for hints that would tell him which way the poor side of town was. This did not take long. There were lots of roads for vehicle traffic, but there was also an extensive tramway system, and much of the tram traffic was focused in a particular area. This, he decided would be near the poor section of town. He got his bearings and found a tram station, got a ticket and headed for the largest tram station he could see on the map.

Since this was more of an outpost city, all of the tramways were above ground, so as he approached the big tram station, he noticed that the dwellings he passed by became more run down. This he guessed, was the poor side of town. His Kinorian module had about 25 minutes left on it. Even so, certain of his Kinorian features were beginning to degrade as the module began to fail.

Leaving the tram in the large station, he found himself surrounded by Relmish people. There were a few Iskolians scattered about, but by far the Relmish outnumbered them. He left the tram station on foot and walked until he came upon a stretch of small shops, apparently owned by Relmish people. He stepped into the third one he came upon, which was a small food store, having all manner of Relmish staple food items.

As he stepped into the store, he looked around and saw an elderly Relmish male tending the counter. The male looked up at him and stared for a moment.

"How may I be of service to you, sir?" the elderly male asked, looking a bit surprised, "Are you looking for directions?"

"Ah… no. I need a little help getting out of the city. Are you a slave?"

"What? Oh, no. I'm a freeperson. I served my master for thirty years and I have papers to show it. Why would you want to get out of the city?"

"I need help. I'm wanted by the Iskolians."

The old Relmish paused for a moment, gazing at Frank.

"Wait here a moment, please."

"Please, don't turn me in."

"I won't. Let me get my son. I think he may know who you are."

"He does?"

"Well, maybe. He spoke earlier of a stranger coming to the city—one that might ask for assistance. But I don't know what he was talking about. The young kids are so foolish these days."

The old Relmish wandered into the back of the store and moments later reappeared with a young Relmish male, who at once, went wide-eyed and ran around the counter to greet Frank.

"Are you… are you… Frank Jameson?" he asked, "We had heard that you would appear as a Kinorian."

At that moment, the Kinorian module failed and Frank became himself once again.

"It's you!" the young Relmish exclaimed, "It's you! Come with me, quickly! We'll get you hidden."

He pulled Frank into the back of the store and rushed back into the front of the store to have a few words with his father. Then rushed back to Frank and began herding him to the storeroom.

"I need to get out of the city," Frank said.

"We have preparations made for you, but you'll need to go back to your Kinorian form."

"I cannot," Frank replied.

"What?"

"The module has failed. Just now. It won't work anymore."

"Ooooh, this is bad," the young male said, a little flustered, "You have the most recognizeable face in the galaxy right now. You would be spotted the moment you stepped out any door. I must get some of my friends to help."

"No," Frank replied, "You must do it yourself. What's your name?"

"I'm Amok. What can I do? I must tell those who wait for you. We have been expecting you. We have a way for you to escape from the city, but we need you in your disguise."

"You must find me another disguise."

"I? I? I don't think I can… wait… let me think, let me think…"

"Sure."

"Your shape is not too unlike one of us. If you had more hair on your body and face, perhaps…"

"Perhaps I could disguise myself as one of you."

"Yes. Still, I will need some help with this. I must contact at least one of my friends."

"This friend—how long have you known him?"

"Her… she's my femfriend. She will know how to do this. There is a technique our females use to enhance their hair—to make it look fuller. I don't know how they do it, but they add more hair in certain places on their bodies to make them more attractive. I promise you, she knows how to do this. I will get her. But you must hide."

"Very well."

"I'll be back very soon, I promise."

"I'll be waiting."

Frank waited for nearly an hour for Amok to return with his girlfriend. All the while, he heard folk entering and leaving the store while the old Relmish male took care of and attended his business casually. Whatever the old ex-slave did, he seemed to take it all in stride, not even giving the slightest hint that anything was amiss in the back of his store.

The young female Relmish had brought a basket with her, and when she saw Frank, she gasped before regaining her composure, then opened the basket and showed Frank what she had in mind.

"This is Shim, my femfriend."

"Hello Shim," Frank greeted her.

"Are you really him?" she asked, in awe.

"I am Frank Jameson, if that's your question."

"Whoa."

"You have something for me?"

"It is as Amok has told me. I can help you, although I don't think I have enough shuta to cover your whole body."

"You don't need to cover my whole body, only my arms and face."

"And feet…"

Frank looked down at their feet and noticed that their furry feet were unshod, which was different from the Relmish slaves on Iskol, who all wore shoes.

"And my feet…" he replied.

"I'll still need some more shuta. I can get started with what I have while Amok goes to get some more shuta and gidul."

"What are those?"

"Shuta looks like our hair, and gidul is used to hold it on your skin. We will need to cut away much of your head hair. It doesn't look like ours."

"That's fine," Frank replied. His skinsuit allowed his scalp hair to grow through the skinsuit, exposing it to the elements. His beard and facial fair were kept shaved.

"I haven't enough money for this much shuta," Amok said.

"I have money," Frank replied, as he pulled out a handful of coinage.

Amok stared at the coinage, wide-eyed.

"Is there a problem?"

"That is a lot of money," he said.

"Take what you need and some extra for yourself."

"I could buy myself back from my owner for this!"

"You're a slave? Even here?"

"All of us in the city are slaves, except for freepersons, like my father."

"I'm sorry—I didn't know," Frank said.

"But it's okay, you're here to set us free!" Amok took about a third of the coinage from Frank's hand and ran out the back of the store.

Shim began by painting Frank's face with the gidul, which seemed to be an adhesive of some sort. Then, in little patches, she began applying the shuta. In a few minutes, he began taking on the appearance of a Relmish male. Frank's skinsuit advised him that the adhesive material had insufficient properties to maintain contact with its surface, so he instructed his skinsuit to apply additional adhesion to keep it in place.

Thirty minutes later, Amok returned with more shuta and gidul, which turned out to be good timing, since Shim had used up almost all of her supplies. In another hour and a half, Frank was covered in his face, arms and feet with shuta and bore a striking resemblance to a Relmish male.

"It won't pass if you are seen up close by an Iskolian, but you should be able to get by from a distance," Shim explained.

"What about other Relmish?" Frank asked.

"Well, not so easily, for that. But don't worry, none of them will turn you in, even if they do notice you."

"Now we must get you to the docks," Amok said.

"The docks?"

"Fishing docks. By the sea! The fishermen know you are coming and they're prepared for you."

"You told someone?"

"I'm sorry. I had to let them know. There is nothing to fear—I've known these people all my life. I know them well. They know the plan and they're ready."

Frank gave the young Relmish male a discouraging look, and then resigned himself to whatever this young rebel had in mind.

"Very good. Let's go."

They exited through the back of the store and went down back alleys, making their way casually toward the docks, which was a continual downhill walk as they approached the sea. They came upon many Relmish along the way and most of them recognized right away that Frank was not who he appeared to be. Most who saw him stared for a moment, then would have a look of realization and would look away so as not to attract attention to him. They knew who he was.

Along the way, they came upon a few Iskolians, who gave Frank passing glances, then went on about their business.

It was mid-morning by the time they reached the fishing docks and there was a small fishing boat waiting for him with a Relmish sea captain and a crew of three. The boat was about ten meters long and three meters wide, allowing just enough room for them to net fish and store them. As Frank boarded the little vessel, it visibly tilted to the side he got on in, which promptly attracted the attention of its captain and crew.

"Do you weigh so much?" the captain queried him.

Frank realized at once that it was his skinsuit making him so heavy. He had forgotten that his own strength was multiplied many times with the skinsuit, giving him the ability to wear and walk in it. Though thin, it was made of neutronium and was very dense, thus very heavy.

"I do," he replied, as he centered himself in the boat, causing floorboards to squeak and complain under his weight. The water line around the hull came up to a level that the captain had never seen before, even with a full load.

"We'll need to put supports under you, then."

"Boy! Go get me some more boards from the boatyard," he said, to Amok. Amok ran off to get the boards.

"It won't do to have you standing there in the middle of our vessel. You'll attract too much attention. You're a bit large to appear Relmish. Maybe you'd better sit while we wait for the boy," the captain said, then, "On the other hand, maybe you'd best not move. I'll not want you capsizing our boat before we get under way."

The support boards arrived shortly and they were placed inside the cabin on the floor of the boat. Frank took gingerly steps into the cabin and settled himself on the support boards. Amok waved to them as the crew untied the dock lines and set the boat on its way to sea.

The boat and crew made its way across the bay at a snails pace with a small motor for propulsion that seemed barely able to push the vessel along.

"We'll need to take you south along the coast," the captain said, "but all our vessels are monitored, in case some of us try to escape. So we'll have to get you to shore another way."

"You don't have a plan for this?"

"We had a plan, but now I don't think it'll work."

"Why not?"

"You're too heavy. Uunta knows where you've put all your weight. You look as light as any of us, but there's obviously something we don't know about you."

"Suppose that I could get rid of my extra weight?"

"Extra weight?"

"Yes."

"How is this possible?"

"I wear a suit—close to my skin. It's nearly undetectable, but it can be removed, though I won't have any protection once it's gone."

"The stories I've heard… it does not surprise me anymore. It's the only way we can get you away to safety. I am Korga, captain of this vessel. These are Baluka and Gorku, my crew." The two nodded as Korga introduced them.

"Once I remove it, I'll no longer appear as one of you."

Korga pondered this for a moment, then said, "We'll just have to take our chances. You'll have to keep inside the cabin so you won't be spotted. It's not likely the patrollers will stop us, but if they do we'll hide you. Even if they stop us, it's not likely they'll search us. If they do, we'll deal with that then. But if we keep going this slow, they will stop us and they will search us. You've got to get rid of that extra weight—it's slowing us down too much."

Frank agreed, then instructed his skinsuit. This would be a meticulous operation. Without his resources, he could not simply drop the suit into the water, leaving it for someone to find. It had to be destroyed. Being constructed of neutronium, the only way to be rid of it without leaving technology lying about was to let it decay into ordinary matter. But doing this all at once would result in an horrific explosion, which would likely draw more attention than he wanted right now.

It would have to be thrown off slowly and carefully. The skinsuit could manage this operation, but he would have to sit still as it took place. He decided to retain the power module—it would not weigh much and it still had some 260 gigajoules of energy left. He would also retain the primary processor—it had served him well and would be rewarded again someday with its own body. He also still needed it to translate languages for him. Finally, Frank would retain a small amount of matter so that the processor could be used to form itself into a small weapon. The power module would supply energy for this.

The operation took about two hours to complete. As Frank sat near the center of the boat, his skinsuit formed an extension that made its way to the back of the craft and there, formed another device that would recapture the energy of neutron decay, which would be stored in the power module. Raw matter dripped off the end of the device into the water, where it sank harmlessly.

By the end of the operation, the boat was scooting along quickly, Frank had a personal weapon and the skinsuit's primary processor was still functional. It had formed itself as a belt around Frank's waist, with a remote in his ear to provide language translation. The small, high-energy weapon was kept in a holster on his belt. When holstered, it recharged with from the power module.

Frank looked human again. Without his skinsuit, he felt the sun on his skin and the wind on his face. He had been wearing it for so long that he had forgotten what it was to expose himself to the elements. There was danger of course, since he did not know what chemicals or biological agents existed on this world that could attack his body. He could only hope that this world was not too unlike his own. In the meantime, it was refreshing to feel human again.

"It will be another hour," Korga said, "You will need to ready yourself to swim. Can you swim?"

"What?" Frank said, surprised.

"Do you know how to keep…"

"Yes," Frank interrupted him, "I can swim. But… is that the plan?"

"No. This was discovered on another world," Korga said, holding up what appeared to be a scuba regulator. "It is used to breathe under the water. One was brought here. We have been practicing with it. Baluka can show you how to use it."

"I know how to use it. We have them on my home world. But you have to use it with a tank of compressed air. Do you have a tank?"

"We have that, too." Baluka pulled the tank out of a compartment.

Frank looked at it. It was nothing like the tanks used on Earth, but it appeared to have an analog guage. The guage indicated that the air pressure was low—perhaps no more than a thousand pounds of air left.

"It's low on air," he said, "Do you have a way to fill it?"

"Fill it?"

"Ugh. It needs air. You have to compress air and fill the tank with it. Have you a way to do this?"

"It seems you know more about this technology than we do," Korga replied.

Now Frank was sorry he had dumped off all of the matter in his skinsuit. The skinsuit processor would be able to fashion an air compressor, but it would need suitable matter for the construction. It would need metal.

"I'll need to make an air compressor, but I'll need some raw materials."

"What sort of materials?"

"Mostly something made of metal."

"The only thing made of metal on this boat is the engine."

Frank looked at Korga, then said, "I'll give you some money for a new engine. Will you be able to get back home without it?" He pulled some more coinage out of his pocket and handed it to Korga."

Korga looked at the coinage, surprised. "This is a lot of money. It would buy me five new engines."

"But can you get back?"

"We can call some friends to tow us in."

"Good. Now tell me, are there any sea creatures I should be on the lookout for?"

Baluka began explaining all of the dangerous creatures in the Relm Sea that Frank needed to beware of as his skinsuit processor reconfigured the boat engine into an air compressor. His energy sidearm was converted into a speargun. A mask was constructed along with swimfins and a hydropod with a seat.

They would be more than two kilometers from shore, and Frank knew his air would run out long before he reached it by swimming, so the self-propelled hydropod was made to move him much more quickly through the water.

They were adrift now, a little too close to shore, and it was not long before a patroller boat became curious and started heading their way. Frank quickly donned his mask, fins and the tank with its regulator while Gorku sat low in the boat. It was arranged that, as Frank dropped over the side of the boat into the water, a moment later, Gorku would rise in his place so that it would appear that he had merely bent over to pick something up.

The speargun and hydropod were dropped into the water at the end of a tether, where Frank could quickly untie them and be away. The patroller boat was still a kilometer away when Frank loaded himself onto the side of the boat and fell backwards into the Relm Sea. Quickly reorienting himself, he untied the speargun and pullpod, mounted the pullpod, locked the speargun into its mount and sped away, dropping to a lower depth.

He was more than 50 meters down before he stopped descending. He knew at this depth that he would have to decompress before coming back up. By now, he was far enough away from the patroller boat, so he began a slow, measured ascent. At his present underwater speed, it would take him about an hour to reach the shore. At this depth, it was nearly dark, so he flipped on the underwater lights from the pullpod.

Aiming one of the lights straight down, he stared down into nothingness. The sea bottom was much further down than he was comfortable with. It was not long before the churn from the propeller attracted the attention of underwater curiousity seekers. Baluka had called the big creatures, "chukers," but Frank had nothing to fear from them. They were water-breathers—fish—but were almost as big as the whales of Earth.

Three chukers followed alongside him, but the danger was the little cephalopods clinging to their bodies. Baluka had called these, "chukerbuks." These had razor sharp talons that would gouge his flesh if they got hold of him. They would not be able to swim as fast as he was moving, but if they came loose in front of him, they would grab hold and sink their talons into him. Each of the chukers had about thirty of them.

Then, as though they had spied a tastier morsel, the chukerbuks started breaking away from the chukers and going after him. So far, they would break loose, begin scooting towards him, and then drop away as he passed them. So the chukers were not all that curious after all. This was their defense mechanism—to offer the chukerbuks something else to chew on.

Frank opened up the speed a little on the hydropod, but it did little good. The chukers kept up with him, matching his speed. When he turned away from them, they turned to follow him. He tried going up a little. They went up. He tried going down. They followed.

He kept this up for forty-five minutes, knowing that he must be coming close to shore soon. The chukers would be too big to go into the shallows. He had no idea how deep the water was, but it could not remain deep indefinitely. One of the chukers charged ahead and dodged in front of him. By this time, each had only about five to ten chukerbuks left on their bodies. But it was enough.

Two chukerbuks came loose in front of him. He had noticed that they had a tendency to sink when they came loose, so he turned upwards. He slipped away from one of them, but the other snagged the pod. It took only a moment for it to reach his left outer thigh and dig in. And it stuck there. Pain seared its way through his leg and he nearly lost his hold on the pod.

He struck at the thing with his fist, but it didn't budge. It was too small for the speargun. More than likely he would end up spearing himself if he tried using it. Then he saw the seabed coming up as he raced toward the shore. The chukers fell back, but the little chukerbuk remained firmly attached to his thigh. The seabed was still a good thirty meters down yet, but it became shallower every moment.

The seabed was littered with rocks and what appeared to be something akin to coral reefs. More life abounded here, including chukers. But these were small, and though they gave him chase, they were unable to keep up with him. These too, had chukerbuks, only smaller. He easily outran this group. The seabed was about ten meters below him now and rising quickly.

In another three minutes, he had closed on the shore and ran the hydropod right into the sand. He climbed up off the pod, the chukerbuk still clinging to his thigh. There appeared to be no disabling poison associated with this creature. It simply dug its claws in and hung on. Walking ashore and out of the water, the chukerbuk gave no way. The beach here was of white sand, with dense foliage within a few meters.

Two natives appeared out of the foliage within moments after he stepped out of the water. One of them came up to Frank, stuck the chukerbuk with a stick with a short needle on the end of it and it dropped off his leg, onto the sand. It writhed for a few moments and then died. The same native pulled some ground-up plant out of a pouch he carried with him and placed it onto Frank's open wound. The other native introduced himself, but the translation processor did not seem to recognize the language.

After a few minutes between them, Frank finally made out that his name was Garook and his friend's name was Barla. The skinsuit processor would eventually learn this new language as it heard more of it, but for now, Frank would have to just follow them wherever they went. They seemed to know his name and who he was, so he allowed them to lead.

He dropped all of his scuba gear except the speargun and followed them, barefooted, into the jungle. He instructed his skinsuit processor to begin reforming the speargun back into an energy weapon. Frank was down to shorts and a utility belt, now, and would have trouble keeping up with these tough-footed natives who had walked these forests in their bare feet their entire lives. He would have to rely on the strength in the genes his ancient ancestors had provided when they walked barefoot through the forests and jungles of old Earth.

Their bodies covered in a light fur, they had some measure of protection against the elements as well, while these well-meaning natives appeared to poke fun at the light sprinkling of hair on his partly naked body.

The two natives tracked their way along paths that seemed unused for a long time. Perhaps these were animal trails. He was not sure, but they moved quickly and Frank had to breathe a little hard to keep up. The natives breathed even harder than he did. His body produced sweat through glands in his skin, which evaporated to cool him off. The natives had no such glands. They cooled off by breathing harder, exchanging hot breath for cool air. This elicited a shocked reaction from the two natives at the first stop.

Evening was falling and when they stopped, they turned to see Frank covered in wetness. The two simply stared, slack-jawed at him as the wetness evaporated. In a few more moments, he was breathing somewhat closer to his normal breathing rate, while they were still huffing and puffing to rid themselves of excess body heat. The terrain was hilly and coming up on mountainous, so there had been plenty of streams from which to replinish lost fluids, although he had nothing to take along for carrying water.

The two natives took off, signing to him that he should remain here at this spot until they returned. The spot appeared to be flat and somewhat protected, so he marked it in his memory and looked around for something to burn for a campfire. Kindling was plentiful, so he gathered it and used his energy weapon to start a small fire. The sun had not yet set, but it was cooling off quickly and he knew the night would be cold. Worse yet, he had nothing so much as even a blanket to keep himself warm. He would need a fire.

When the two natives returned, they steered clear of the fire, a little wide-eyed at seeing what he had done. They had come back with arms full of food, an animal carcass and some native fruits and bulbs. They offered him some animal flesh and some of the fruits and bulbs to eat. He accepted whatever they offered and, to their astonishment, began cooking what they had given him over or in the fire.

The meat was tasty, so Frank consummed it. Some of the bulbs were a bit too bitter for him, so he offered them back to them, but they refused, since it had been "burned" as far as they were concerned. The fruit was sweet, and he would need the energy in the morning, so he ate all they gave him.

When they tossed out they animal's furry skin, he went off and grabbed it up, again shocking his traveling companions. The sun had set, but the campfire gave Frank light to see by as he used a sharp stick and heat from the fire to clean, dry and reshape the small animal skin into a sealable bag. This would serve him the next day as a means to store and carry water.

The night began to get much cooler, so Frank threw some more kindling on the fire and used some of the sticks and wood-like materials he had gathered to form a tiny frame for a lean-to, just big enough for himself. He went to a nearby tree with large leaves and used them to line the lean-to, and then sealed off the sides so that the lean-to was open to the fire for warmth. Again, the two natives simply watched in astonishment as he did this.

He made a soft bed for himself with a few more of the large leaves. This would also serve as protection against creepy-crawly creatures in the soil. The two natives merely laid down in sight of him and went to sleep. Frank made sure there was enough extra wood next to the fire so he would not have to go hunting it in the middle of the night when it died down, laid his head down and, exhausted from the day's tribulations, fell shortly to sleep.

Several hours later he awakened to the cold night air with a chill. The fire was a small heap of coals, but not hot enough to keep him warm. He threw some of the firewood he had set the evening before and within a few minutes, it was burning nicely again. By morning the fire was out, the sun was up and he was famished and thirsty. Now he wished he had had the animal skin the day before so he could have water first thing.

There was no camp to break. Frank grabbed up the animal skin bag he had made the night before and the three tramped off again. Garook and Barla did not go far before they began their hunt for breakfast. Frank stayed still and remained quiet as the two picked branches out of a nearby tree and within minutes, formed spears out of them. Then they climed into the trees and waited, grasping their spears as though they would lose them.

In a few more minutes, something came rushing by in a blaze of speed that surprised Frank. It seemed to spy him and turned to run away, but it was down before it could get more than a few meters, with two spears sticking out of its flailing body. In a few more moments, it lay dead.

Garook went off again as Barla motioned Frank to follow him. He showed Frank a leaf, and then reached down its stem, then into the soil to pull up a small tuber. Frank began looking around for more of these, since it was one of the ones he liked. The two of them found several more tubers before Garook returned with an armload of nuts and berries. Frank gathered more kindling and firewood and made another fire.

He cooked up some of the tubers and animal meat as Barla and Garook ate. They waited as he ate, and when he was done, he grabbed the new animal skin, cleaned and dried it and tucked it beneath his belt for future use. The three took off again, the two natives leading, and came upon a small stream within the first hour.

Barla and Garook took their fill, drinking as much of the cool, clear water as they could. Frank did the same, but also filled his water skin. He understood that the two natives did not sweat as they trotted through the dense woods, so they did not lose much water from their bodies. But he did, and he needed the extra water.

As they moved along, they gradually went higher and higher into the mountains, and the nights got colder. After four days, Frank had enough animal skins to make himself a cover to sleep under and keep him warm at night. The days were cooler too, but the trio moved quickly enough that he stayed warm from exertion. He was beginning to have difficulty breathing in the thinner air. His processor was also beginning to unravel the native language, convoluted though it seemed, and Frank was able to have rudimentary discussions with Garook and Barla.

Frank estimated they were covering about twenty-five kilometers a day, as the crow flies, and after six days, had gone about 150 kilometers inland. By midmorning of the seventh day, they were walking through snow. Even Garook and Barla had slowed their pace to a walk, both panting hard to breathe the thin air as they climbed higher. Frank had fashioned himself a cloak and a crude pair of shoes from the animal skins he had collected, but did not wear the shoes until they had reached the snow. His feet had toughened over the past several days, and he did not expect the shoes to last very long in the rough terrain.

By midday, they reached a pass in the mountains. Garook and Barla almost crossed it without a second thought, but Frank stopped to rest and enjoy the view.

"You stop here?" came the translation from Garook.

"I wish to rest and look," Frank replied.

"Not good place to stop," Barla said.

"Kulock see us. Kill us," Garook said.

"Kulock?" Frank queried.

"Not take us, like young," Garook said.

"We old," Barla said, "they kill us."

"Kulock… slave traders," Frank realized. His translator was getting better, but still was not quite up to its usual performance. Without a database to work with, it was taking too long. Apparently, no one on Iskol had ever bothered to learn and translate the original slave languages.

"We rest… not long time."

Frank took notice and decided to move along. By evening they were well into a lush green valley, where the climate was a bit warmer. The next morning they got up and went deeper into the valley, and the climate warmed even more. By midday, it was raining. Frank had long since removed his animal skin cloak and shoes, carrying them on his back in a makeshift backpack, but the rain was warm, so it was not bothersome.

That evening, they trotted into a little village at the foot of a steep mountain next to a small clear river. The Relmish folk gathered around him, seemingly in shock and amazement at the sight of him. There were small huts nearby that seemed to blend into the local foliage. Frank suspected that the way they were made was intended as a deception to anything looking down from above. Clearly, they were huts, but from the sky, they would look like part of the forest.

The village was comprised of no more than a hundred natives or so, and word seemed to spread quickly about his arrival. Within minutes of his arrival, a drum sounded. The natives redirected their gazes to the foot of the mountain, or rather, a cave at the foot of the mountain, and they cleared a path between him and the cave mouth. Frank waited, as did everyone else. In a few moments, another Relmish walked out of the cave, but this one did not look entirely like a Relmish. Relmish stood up tall, walking upright. This one walked bent over, as an old man would. But it was not an old man. And it wore a breechclout.

None of the Relmish natives wore clothing of any kind. But this one did. The creature walked out of the cave and in a minute the hairy male was standing in front of Frank.

"I'm Gronk. Guess ya had a pretty rough time getting' here, huh?" he said, in nearly perfect english.

"You speak… english," Frank replied.

"Yup."

"Are you…"

"Human? Yup. One of the very first," Gronk said.

Twenty-Two

The crew of the Butterworth had remained hidden at the black hole station while sending off drones to contact Net and look for Frank. It had been a while since the drones had been sent out and they were still awaiting a response. This had given them time to build more and better weapons and to reinforce the hull with matter that had been "mined" out of the black hole.

In their last battle, the hull had been breached by a weapon that emulated a black hole, and they had been discussing means of detecting and protecting against such weapons. Unfortunately, the only thing they had come up with thus far was a similar weapon—one that they could use against the black hole people, should they be confronted by them again.

They monitored the news, spread by starships ferrying cargo and people between star systems, and the bounty on them continued to rise, as did the number of governments looking for them. But there was also commentary on what might befall the poor souls that happened upon them, especially after the reports given by the captain and crew of the freighter they had rendezvoused with several weeks earlier.

In previous reports, news about their skinsuits had been legendary, about a material so thin you could see through it, but so strong that it could withstand a direct hit from a proton gun, so subtle that it was almost undetectable, yet so advanced that it could filter out poisons, both in the air and in food. But now images traveled across star systems of Sandy and Michelle in the warsuits that they had worn while boarding the freighter bearing Trong, Mangle and Crush.

These suits were not only plainly visible, but menacing and deadly-looking. Commentators and experts alike attempted to guess at what strength these new suits had. These were obviously made for battle, having armor plating and strength enhancement. Images of Michelle shoving aside crates that were known to have been massively heavy were replayed again and again. Other images of Sandy, shoving her fists through 10 centimeter-thick composteel, one of the toughest known materials in the galaxy, were also replayed and analyzed again and again.

Finally, images of the Shadow Ship with its new modifications plainly visible told the people of the central galactic system that the people aboard the Shadow Ship were preparing for war. Early images were compared to the newer images, and battle consultants were interviewed, explaining what the new changes meant. Analyses of the battle between the Shadow Ship and the Okofani had revealed weaknesses in the Shadow Ship's battle systems, weaknesses that no longer existed, now making it the most formidable starship in the known parts of the galaxy.

On many worlds, new battle cruisers were being built while new armies formed, all in preparation for war, in case the Shadow Ship was to return and attack their world. The Okofani were also building up. They remembered the beating they took at the hands of the Shadow Ship and they were not anxious for a repeat of that episode. Since the Shadow Ship's early disappearance after the first battle, the Okofani had been reinforcing their orbital complement with larger and more powerful cruisers and even several gigantic war stations. These would have nearly dwarfed the old Shadow Ship.

But new images of the Shadow Ship revealed that its size had grown, now comparable in size to one of the Okofani war stations, but far stronger. The Okofani had used weapons that would shred most battleships the size of the Shadow Ship. These had merely impacted harmlessly on its hull. Of all the known races, no one had ever expected to see a time when they would describe the Okofani as, "nervous." The Okofani knew, as did everyone else, that in their next encounter with the Shadow Ship, win or lose, their losses would be enormous.

Suni stepped onto the bridge shortly after the return of the drone.

"What news?" she asked.

"Net knows where Frank is… at least, they know what world he's on," Paddy replied.

"Oh?"

"He's on Relm."

"Where?"

"The slave planet—where the Iskolians get their slaves from."

"How in the hell… what's he doing there?"

"Apparently, when he allowed the slaves to assist in his escape from Iskol, one of them replaced his orders, directing him to another ship. Our best intelligence tells us he was last seen in Relm City and hasn't been seen since."

"He didn't leave on another ship? My God! He could be anywhere in the galaxy by now."

"Net seems to think he's still on Relm."

"But why? Why would he stay there?"

"Probably to avoid capture. Where else would he go? It's a fairly undeveloped world, few cities, almost all forest or jungle. A body could easily get lost there."

"Or killed."

"There's also the slave rebellion to consider."

"What slave rebellion?"

"The one that's about to take place on Iskol. Net's been aggravating it, nudging it along, even manipulating public sentiment about slavery."

"But why Frank?"

"The slaves believe that he's the one who's supposed to free them. That's why they 'hijacked' him. Apparently, there is some Relmish shaman who fingered Frank as their savior."

"Are they that gullible?"

"I don't think so. He did it long before we ever came here. And when we finally arrived and Frank showed himself in public, the slaves seemed to know who he was right away."

"And Net learned all of this?"

"Net is spreading. It has almost complete administrative control over Iskol and has agents on thirty-three worlds. It takes orders from Frank and Frank alone. And since it hasn't gotten any orders from him lately, it's been following his last orders."

"Net is beginning to sound a little scary," Suni said, a little worried.

"Net has become powerful," Patricia agreed, "and wealthy… in Frank's name, of course."

"How many bots can that drone factory on Iskol make?"

"As many as it has of Frank's cells. Their processors can't operate without cells from his body."

"Any idea how many it has?"

"Trillions. But they obey him."

"That's fine… so long as he isn't corrupted."

"I don't think he's the type."

"Let's hope not. Get a crew up here. We're headed for Relm."

"Aye, Cap'n."

Twenty-Three

"Let me see if I understand this," Frank said, looking at Gronk as they meandered back to the cave near the group of huts as the local Relmish looked on in awe. "You come from Earth of 120,000 years ago, but you're more than 10 million years old?"

"Yup," Gronk replied.

"How can that be?"

"Well it's easy. I'm the Shadow Rider."

"Seems I've heard of them. They think I'm the Shadow Rider."

"You are."

"Okay, this is getting a little confusing."

"I don't see how."

"How can I be the Shadow Rider if you're the Shadow Rider?"

"That's easy too. You're my replacement."

"Oh…"

"That went well."

"As though I believe it."

"Maybe not that well."

As the two walked, they approached the entrance to Gronk's cave, and walked in. A few Relmish hung about near the entrance, but none went more than ten meters or so inside the entrance.

"Why do you live in this cave? They all live in those huts."

"I'm used to caves. That's where I was born. Even the inside of my ship looks like a cave. I've lived in caves all my life. I like caves."

"You have a ship?"

"Sure. It's parked about twenty light-years from here. It's in orbit around a star with a bunch of gas giants where nobody ever goes."

Frank and Gronk were deep into the cave, now. A warm glow ahead told Frank they were near Gronk's abode. They rounded a curve in the tunnel and he saw that a small fire burned in a hearth. There were no animal skins, as he might have expected, but furniture that appeared to be suitable to Gronk's build. It was obviously made from fairly advanced materials that Frank could not identify.

"I see you didn't bring any bear skins with you," Frank commented, "hunting knives, bones, spears…"

"I said I like caves. I didn't say I liked the way they were decorated. Besides, you’re the one with animal skins."

"Fair enough. You're a modern… cave man. I don't recognize some of this equipment."

"Conveniences of modern cave life."

"And the locals, they don't come in here?"

"That's the beauty of this place. They have some crazy fear of being underground. You can't get them to go more than a few meters in here. So I have all the privacy I want when I'm here. It has to be burned out of them when they take them as slaves."

"So what's all this about replacing you?"

"Hmmm. Let me see if I can explain it. The universe goes on for trillions of years. And in all that time, there always have been and always will be Shadow Riders. I'm not really interested in living that long," as an aside, he said, "It gets pretty lonely. All of my people are long gone, and I've never found any other people like me. After all this, I don't think I could go back to that life anyway. These people here are about the closest I've ever found and they seem to tolerate me, so I made a home here."

"Why not back on Earth?"

"That place? Yech. Look what it's turned into. I don't think I'd get a moment's peace if I lived there. These people are friendly and they don't pay taxes. I'm afraid that probably won't go on for much longer."

"Why?"

"They're evolving - if you call that evolving. You're evolving. I'm evolving. Everybody's evolving. When that happens, this all goes away. I don't want to be around here to see it when it does. These people are happy and peaceful… except for that mess of a crowd on Iskol," Gronk says this, pointing upward, towards where the planet Iskol might be.

"Why didn't you do something about that?"

"What? I've been doing something about 'that' for ten million years. I'm tired of it. Now it's your turn. You do something about it."

"Why me?"

"Why not you? Somebody has to do it."

"But… so many trillions of other people… millions of other races…"

"All of the Shadow Riders are human. Don't ask me why."

"I don't get it."

"Neither did I, at first."

"So what am I supposed to do?"

"I don't know. Whatever you want, I guess."

"What did you do?"

"Whatever I wanted."

"What are we in charge of."

"I'm not in charge of anything except squatting here and living a reasonably comfortable life."

"Then what am I in charge of?"

"Yourself."

"Now I really don't get it."

"Yeah… took me a while, too."

The grizzled old creature got up and went into what Frank perceived as a kitchen and pulled up a bottle of purple liquid.

"Want some wine?" he asked.

"You have wine? Where did you get that?" Frank asked.

"The only place in the universe where you can get wine."

"Earth?"

"You're getting more learned by the minute."

"Back then… when you first started out, was your name really 'Gronk' back then?"

"Yeah."

"You people talked?"

"Of course. We're weren't stupid. See how hairy this body is?" Gronk displayed himself, "While I'm hairier than you, this still doesn't give much protection from the elements. We had to think to stay alive. And survival is a lot harder in my time than it is in yours. I'll tell you, if your people had to endure what we had to endure, half the human race would be dead in a month."

"But, I built my starship. Where did you get yours?"

"I ordered mine from the JC Penny catalog." Frank cocked his head at Gronk and gave him the eye. "I made mine the same way you made yours."

"But how, without the technology?"

"All your technology did was help you make it faster. The basic methods of building a Shadow Ship are the same. I like your robots, by the way. I sure wish I had some of them."

"You're welcome to some of mine. I can show you how to build them."

"Thanks, but I'm done with all that. I just want to retire and be done with it."

"But how could you build all of that? How could you launch it?"

"I just had an inspiration one day. It came to me, just like it did you. Just like it did or will do all the Shadow Riders."

"But… you… you had stones, bones and wooden clubs. How could you possibly build something so powerful as a Shadow Ship? Were you… your mind… were you… enhanced?"

"I told you, we were smart."

"Now when I think of it… I really didn't need the technology. I could have done it without machines."

"Of course."

"But they sure made it a lot easier."

"And it looks to me like you might even do a better job of things than I did. Setting up that 'Net' thing was pretty ingenious."

"That kind of happened by itself, almost."

"Yeah but look at what they're doing. They're taking over. They're doing your bidding."

"So?"

"So? Are you kidding? You don't know all the legwork I had to do. You have machines doing all your work for you. When I had to take care of things, I had to do every little thing myself. This is great! You could do everything I did in ten million years and be done in twenty years."

"But… the universe is huge."

"Sure it is. And with all those machines working for you and replicating themselves, you should have the entire universe covered in maybe fifty thousand years easy."

"I don't want to rule the universe."

"You don't have to. Your machines'll do everything for you. They'll rule it and run it according to your wishes. If you decide that there'll be no more slavery in the universe, then that's what'll happen. In a few hundred thousand years, there'll be a complete end to slavery—everywhere."

"How do you know about all of this? You're all tucked away nice and comfy here, ignoring the rest of the universe."

"I don't have machines—I have spies. All I do is ask, and they get the information for me. I asked about you and they gave me everything they could find, which was a lot, by the way."

"You still haven't told me how you came to being ten million years old."

"You'll figure that out soon enough. I'd say in about 300 years or so."

"I don't expect to live that long."

"You'll figure that out, too."

"Huh?"

"That was a smart thing you did, Frank, bringing those females along. Man, I really wish I'd thought of that back then. I didn't even know it was allowed. My predecessor didn't say a thing about it to me. He didn't last long—all of about two hundred thousand years before he quit."

"You had a predecessor?"

"The line goes back a ways. I think he just couldn't stand the loneliness. He came from the 90th century, some seven thousand years after you. I have all that information on my ship. It's all yours to keep and pass on."

"He came from my future? You time-travel?"

"Now you're really catching on. You know, if I'd thought to bring along some female companionship, I probably wouldn't quit just yet."

"But what'll happen to you now?"

"Now? I don't know. The guy before me just went away and I never saw him again. I don't know if he died or what. Maybe he went back to where he came from. Your life doesn't have to end here. Think of this as a break in your life. You might go on for a hundred million years or more, and then one day decide you're finished with it and go right back to the day and time you left off from your previous life, as though nothing had ever happened."

"Then why don't you do that?"

"You people never really understood what it was like for us, did you. That was a really rough life. I'm not that hot on going back to it."

"The information you have on your ship… what is it?"

"Ah. Now you're interested. It's almost the history of the universe. There are histories of the universe that date back trillions of years and into the future trillions of years. Every language ever spoken or that will be spoken, every race that ever existed or will exist will eventually be recorded by the Shadow Riders. That history is kept on the Shadow Ships."

"But how? Without machines?"

"I have machines, just no robots. My predecessor didn't have robots. Seems like he should have, don't you think? But he sure did have some wondrous things aboard his old ship."

"Maybe he knew something I don't."

"Could be. As soon as you're done with this Okofani crowd, I'll get everything to you. You're gonna have to deal with that shortly."

"I know."

"No, I mean real shortly."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean they're here."

"What?"

"On Relm. Looking for you. My spies told me this morning. Fleets of ships are gathering in the space above us, and it's my guess that your ship is on its way here too."

"Oh my God."

"I know. A lot of these innocents are gonna get killed. They'll try to defend you, but the Okofani have superior weapons."

"But how do they know I'm here?"

"Dunno. But they don't know exactly where you are, otherwise they would have glassed this whole mountainside by now. They'll start doing DNA scans pretty soon. That'll pick up anything that doesn't belong here—like you and me."

"They'll find us in no time."

"Not easily. I picked this cave for a reason—there's a lot of gold in this rock. Their scanners can't see through it. They'll find us, but not easily. Just hope that your ship gets here before they do."

"What about your ship? Can't you bring it here?"

"Sure, but what would that accomplish? You're the new Shadow Rider—this is your battle. If I bring my ship here, it'll undermine your credibility and respect. People won't fear you. You'll have no end of troubles if they see two Shadow Ships in the same battle. Besides, I'm retired."

"What about these innocents anyway? Why did you tell them I was the ‘Chosen One?’ It’s such a cliché."

Gronk rumbled a laugh and grinned. "I know. I’ve read a few Earth books and a lot of them have this, ‘Chosen One’ thing going on. I thought I’d throw it in for fun."

"This doesn’t seem like that much fun. Besides, now they’re treating me like some kind of holy man."

"Better that than the alternative."

"What’s that?"

"Anywhere outside of Relm City, they would have killed you."

Twenty-Four

Suni Tashika stood on the balcony gazing over the gleeming army of warbots standing before her at attention, more than twenty thousand in all. Each and every one had an individual name. Each and every one was indistinguishable from each and every other, except for its name. Trong, Frank's personal bodyguard, was in command of the entire force, and stood at the front of the assemblage, along with Crush and Batter.

This field was more than two kilometers across either way and the ceiling was a kilometer above them inside the Butterworth. It was created as a wide-open space for the sole purpose of recreational use. This had been a field of green grass, kept and tended by bots. Today it was being used as a military formation ground in preparation for war. Suni and the rest of her crew were dressed in warsuits, gleeming neutronium armor covering their bodies from head to toe. They had been watching the news nets and knew that more than a thousand warships from twenty different worlds were gathered over the skies of Relm. More than three million soldiers were on its surface, looking for Frank and preparing for battle against the most fearsome being in the universe; the Shadow Rider. The Shadow Ship was expected.

Each day more ships and soldiers arrived, adding to the force that Suni and her crew would face when they finally got there. Each day, two hundred and fifty new warbots rolled off the assembly line. By the time they got to Relm, seven hundred and fifty warbots would be added to this army. But warbots were superior warriors to biologics and even to mechanicals. Even facing more than three million combined biologic and mechanical soldiers, the warbots would be a formidable force. It was obvious to Suni that these other people did not know she had such an army. Otherwise, they would be trying to get away.

Sandy and Michelle came up from behind her, standing silently for a few moments as they looked on in awe of their own acheivements.

"News of the return of the Shadow Ship has reached more than three thousand worlds, now," Sandy said.

"But only twenty of those worlds gather against us," Suni replied.

"The rest are mired in political debate," Michelle informed. "They can't decide whether the return of the Shadow Ship is a good thing or a bad thing."

"I still don't understand how we managed to get that label. We're explorers, not warriors," Sandy complained.

"There can only be one reason for this," Suni replied.

"And what would that be," Michelle asked.

"This is the Shadow Ship," Suni answered.

"And us? What are we?"

"I've been looking over the ancient histories of the Shadow Ships. The translations are difficult and some are impossible to understand. It seems there have been a few Shadow Riders over the course of recorded history in this universe. Not just one, but several. Occasionally, I have seen images, old and difficult to make out, but there seems to be a common denominator about them," Suni paused for effect. "They were all human."

"How do you know?" Michelle asked.

"The image qualities are poor, since they come from millions of years back, so I had Dyna enhance them. They weren't much better, but the features in some cases became a bit easier to make out. They all looked like us—the ones I could find images of."

"So how does that make this the Shadow Ship?" Michelle asked.

"That's another part of the old histories. In all of recorded galactic history, no race has ever achieved speeds greater than ships using Vulaxium hulls. No race has ever traveled as fast as we can. But the Shadow Ships can. The histories talk about instances of the Shadow Ships moving at great speeds between galaxies, which no ship of Vulaxium construction could ever do. Only the Shadow Ship could ever travel between galaxies."

"But we…" Michelle started.

"We can travel between galaxies. Not yet, perhaps, but eventually we will be able to." Suni interrupted.

"But what about the Black Hole people?" Sandy returned.

"I don't know who they are," Suni replied, "They may just be some race with an invisibility cloak and a powerful weapon. I don't know if they can move as fast as we can. No other known race can do that."

"Then it's possible," Michelle said. "This could be the Shadow Ship."

"But what about the Shadow Riders?" Sandy asked. "In all the stories I've seen, they've all been alone. None of them had a crew."

"Maybe Frank broke the rules. Maybe no one else bothered to think that there could be more than one person on the ship," Suni replied.

"What a lonely thought," Michelle speculated.

"Maybe the other Shadow Riders did have crews but never let them be seen," Sandy suggested.

"It doesn't matter," Suni interjected. "Maybe there are no rules. The most striking thing about all of this is that it was Frank who came up with these technologies originally. We all know him well enough."

Sandy and Michelle grinned at each other.

"The mathematics he had to use for this design did not exist on Earth at the time he came up with this technology."

"He is a brilliant man, Suni," Sandy countered.

"No man—or woman—on Earth is that brilliant," Suni replied. "I know…" she looked at them, "I wanted to believe it too. But the evidence weighs against it. It is obvious that his mathematics were inspired, but they had to come from somewhere else. They had to come from something else."

"Then you don't believe that it was Frank's own work?" Michelle asked.

"I believe he did the work, and he was brilliant enough to understand it. Certainly given enough time, he might have come up with all of this on his own. But not in the time he did."

"You're suggesting that there might have been a higher-order intelligence at work?" Sandy asked.

"There had to be," Suni replied.

"Then he is the Shadow Rider," Sandy replied.

"He is the newest one," Suni said.

"Then what are we?" Michelle asked.

"An error," Suni replied.

Twenty-Five

The new Emperor Wellum of Iskol had always felt that he could be a better ruler than his cousin, Deetknarl, could. It was obvious to him now, given the efficiency and effectiveness of his new government. It bothered him though, that he had so much difficulty getting many of his new laws and edicts advertised, circulated and enforced. He had threatened, screamed, cursed and stomped about. Even a few heads had rolled, but nothing seemed to work. Now, there was open talk of freeing the slaves. While he had not entirely gone along with this crazed notion, it seemed he might, before it was done with, have to give in to popular demand.

The old emperor Deetknarl, along with his nephew Tolrash, still remained deep in the bowels of the Imperial Palace, imprisoned in dark, dank cells barely large enough to walk in. Wellum still did not have enough support among the Iskolian lords to have him executed, and it was still too early to arrange an accidental death for him. So long as Deetknarl lived, he remained a threat to Wellum’s power.

Many of the Iskolian Lords were unhappy about talk of freeing slaves, and now there were rumors of subversive talk about democracy on Iskol. This would have to be dealt with quickly and harshly. But there were few folk around that he could trust anymore. There were so many new faces in his government. All of them were dependable and amazingly efficient. But these new faces held positions of power and he could not replace them easily. Right now, he needed efficiency in his new government, otherwise, he would not hold this seat for long. So long as the people were happy, he was safe.

Amoca, his senior aid, entered the Imperial throne room from the back and came to his side.

"Your Majesty, the General of the Okofani land forces wishes an audience," he said.

This was another problem he would have to take care of. The Okofani forces he employed in his takeover of Iskol were still here, and still sufficient in strength to defeat anything left of not only his own forces, but the Imperial forces as well. They were the true power brokers on Iskol right now.

Thus far, their orders had not changed, and they appeared subservient to him. But that could change in a day. The General of the Okofani land forces had not made audience with him in quite some time. He almost expected the hammer to fall at any moment. He knew that the conversion of Iskolian industries to supply the Okofani with ships, weapons and supplies was the only thing that kept them at bay.

"Clear the audience chamber. I will speak with the general alone. Only my most trusted bodyguards will remain," Wellum replied.

"It will be done, Your Majesty."

And in short order it was. Lords, ladies and everyone else in the Imperial audience chamber were sent out. A few moments later, Okofani General Unok entered the chamber, haughty and contemptuous as he could be without being downright offensive. He walked in as though he owned the place. He could of course, if he wanted to.

"Wellum," the general said in his hissing voice, "I and many of my troops are called to battle and will be shipping out. My lieutenant colonel will remain here with 50 garrisons to maintain security of this world."

"You go to war, General?"

"Two-thirds of my forces will go with me. We will take two-thirds of the starships orbiting the planet as well. Your forces will have to take up the positions we will leave unprotected."

"Our forces are insufficient to take up those positions, General, and we certainly don’t have the starships."

"Wellum," he said, insolently, "I know that you have been building up your forces. Don’t take me for a fool. We are the masters of war and espionage. Your forces will take up those positions. After we have completed our mission, we will expect you to maintain those forces. I and my forces will be sent to new conflicts and will not return soon. As one of our primary material suppliers, your business will be to continue to supply us with war materials. Thus far you have been rewarded handsomely. So long as this relationship is to our mutual benefit, things will go well for you and your people. It is in our interest to protect your world. Have a care that this does not change."

"And who will be in command of our forces, General Unok?"

"You will be in command of your own forces. We will monitor them to insure that they do their job. Fail us, and we will start looking for a replacement for you. And it need not be one of my people."

"You threaten me, General? Perhaps you don’t really understand our society very well. The people won’t accept a pretender to the throne."

"Your people will accept whomever we put in your place. And I’m sure we understand your society well enough to choose a proper successor. Many of your Lords vie for power on your world. Some, we believe, can suitably perform your duties."

"Even you, General Unok, have masters, and I shall be direct in lodging complaints to them about your insolence and disrespect towards me. I am the rightful Emperor of this world, by ascension through succession."

"You really mean insurrection, Emperor. We placed you on the throne. My masters can hold your complaints against me, but only so long as they live."

Twenty-Six

Frank and Gronk turned as the first noises came from behind them at the mouth of Gronk’s cave. Gronk started towards the noise as Frank trailed him. They got within ten meters of the cave entrance and stopped. One of the Relmish natives came forward and spoke to Gronk in his native tungue.

"Shaman, the day sky fills will lights of many things falling from the heavens. What should we do?"

"You should run far into the hills and hide your people," Gronk replied.

"But Shaman, you and the Chosen One…"

"The Chosen One and I are not weak and delicate, Gamorf. We are both powerful and dangerous, no matter what the people believe."

"But what of the lights in the heavens?"

"Those are dangerous enemies. They will come here and slaughter your people if you try to stand with us. You cannot fight against them."

"But we must defend you! You must not fight our enemies alone. They will take you, or kill you!" Gamorf replied, desparately.

"We will hide in this cave. So long as we stay here they cannot find us. If they do find us, we have great and powerful weapons, the like you have not ever seen. You and the people must leave, Gamorf. These enemies will swat you like dinka. Your spears will be useless against them. They will bounce off the skins of our enemies and they will stain the ground with your blood."

"We cannot… must not leave you to those barbarians! Our spears will stand against our enemies."

"Show me your spear, Gamorf."

Gamorf held his spear proudly, showing it to Gronk.

"Now throw it hard against that wall," Gronk said, pointing to a point on the wall of the cave.

Gamorf did as he was directed, casting his spear skillfully at the wall, choosing a single point, aiming it deftly and striking the exact point he had chosen. The spear struck the wall, leaving a small scratch where it struck.

"Frank," he said then, "that little pea shooter of yours, can it do better?"

"Frank pulled his energy weapon out of its holster and set it for medium power, aimed it at the point where Gamorf’s spear had struck the wall, and pulled the trigger. Where the beam struck a small, continuous explosion of rocks and dust emerged, sending Gamorf running for cover. After a moment or two, Frank stopped firing, and what remained was a three-meter wide crater in the wall of the cave.

"You see, Gamorf," Gronk said, "this is one of our toys. We have weapons that can destroy this entire mountain in a few moments. Your spears cannot help us. Our enemies will fall upon your village and burn your people into cinders, as does the fire to the trees."

Gamorf was visibly shaken at this.

"You must preserve your people for the Change. It was never your duty to protect us. It is our duty to protect you. It was my duty, but I am going away forever. Frank Jameson has come here to take my place."

"You… protect us?"

"Yes. It was always this way. You must tell your people. You must pass the word to the other villages too. You must not battle against these enemies. Soon, help will arrive and these enemies will be driven from your world. After that, all of your people will be freed. But now, you must run. Promise me you will do this, Gamorf."

"We will do as you command, Shaman."

Frank and Gronk left the native and went back to Gronk’s living area in the back of the cave.

"I sure hope you weren’t kidding about those weapons. This little pea shooter won’t hold them off for ten seconds," Frank said.

"As it turns out, you’re in luck. That’s not bad, though, what you have there. I’ve got some stuff in this closet back here that we can use, in case your people don’t get here in time."

Gronk led the way as Frank followed him to a small closet, carved out of the stone. He pulled out some suits that appeared to be made from neutronium-armored material.

"These’ll protect us from almost anything, but they’re not full-body protection. Your eyes and certain other places on your body won’t be protected. I have these goggles, but they’re not as strong as the body armor."

"What are these?" Frank asked, as he lifted what appeared to be a fat lasing rifle.

"Those? Those are backup. We’ll want to use these," Gronk said as he reached into the closet and pulled out four small, hand-mounted glove-weapons. "You slip this on your hand, aim it and fire whichever weapon you like. Each finger fires a different weapon, even the thumb, I see you still have an opposable thumb. That’s good." Gronk grinned as he said this.

"It’s how we make tools," Frank bantered, then grinned back at him.

"Now here’s how they work. The goggles have a built-in heads-up display. You don’t even have to stick your head out to see the target, or your hand. A remote does that. All you do is line up what you want to shoot at by looking at it. The goggles will track your eyes, identify the target and when you pull the trigger, it’ll fire and go after whatever target you’ve selected."

"What if the remote gets shot down?"

"You have four remotes. If they all go, you can use the glove to see with—you still won’t have to stick your head out to see the target, but you will have to stick your hand out. If that cam gets taken out, then you’ll have to stick your head out."

"What are all these weapons?" Frank asked, looking at the glove. It was an armored glove, but on the back of the glove was mounted a module with a series of weapons in it.

"The main and most powerful weapon is the micromissile. That’s the one you can fire from around corners. It’s faster than the eye can see, and it’ll hunt down an enemy hiding behind almost anything. Next is your lasing weapon. That one is line-of-sight. It’ll aim itself with the heads-up display and a remote. The next one is an unguided projectile weapon—you call it a ‘gun’ where you come from. The next one I call a ‘mole.’" Sometimes the enemy will be wearing armor, in which case, depending on how good it is, the micromissile won’t pierce it and the lasing gun won’t burn it. But a mole will settle on the armor and start burning its way through. It takes a little longer, but it works where other weapons won’t."

"What about this one?" Frank asked, pointing at one of the submodules.

"This one I call a ‘thunderblinder.’ It sends up a shower of projectiles that fly over the enemy. When they get above the enemy, or wherever you want them to be, they explode, making loud thunder noises and bright flashes that momentarily alarm and blind the enemy. You use them for cover when you want to change position."

"What about this ‘thumb’ weapon?"

"Ah. That’s in case of emergency."

"So how does it work?"

"When the time comes, you’ll know."

"I guess it’s time to send out the landmines," Gronk said. He walked over to a standing floor console, fiddled with a few gadgets and then a large section of the cave wall slipped upward, revealing a large electronic control console, with screens, monitors and rows of switches and buttons. He tapped a few of the buttons, tapped a switch and another panel on the other side of the cave opened up, ejecting hundreds of little electronic crawlers, eight-legged minimachines that headed out of Gronk’s living space and headed out for the opening of the cave.

"How long have you been here?" Frank asked.

Gronk caught his inference and said, "Oh," he grinned. "I guess I’ve been here a while."

"What about air defense?" Frank asked.

"Have that." Gronk looked back at the weapons console, examined a monitor that showed myriad objects in the sky. "But I don’t want to use it yet. Let them find us first. It could take them a couple of days just to figure out where we are. Once they do, then they’ll start airstrikes against this position. If needs be, we can go deeper into the mountain, but there are escape hatches in case we’re overrun and can’t stay here any longer."

"So we defend from here, then?"

"Oh no. When they search this cave, it’ll be empty. We’ll go this way." He tapped another button and a small hatch at the far back of the cave opened, revealing a small, dark tunnel.

"We go that way now?"

"No way. It’s miserable uncomfortable back in there. We wait here until they come, then we’ll go that way."

"Everything here is just to stall them."

"Oh yeah. There’s no way you and I can defend this place. This is just enough to hold them off until your friends get here."

"Okay, but how will my friends know where to find us before the enemy does?"

"By all the activity. When I crank this baby up, all hell’s gonna break loose."

"You really have been here a long time," Frank said. "How did you know you were gonna need all this stuff?"

"Well, sure… uh… I knew. And someday you’ll know too. Once you figure that out. And you will. It may take a while, but you will. Or die."

"So what now?" Frank asked.

"We wait. It may take them a few days to find us, but I have lots of games and entertainment stuff. You wouldn’t believe all the really neat stuff I’ve found across all the galaxies. Oh, and I need to give you the coordinates of my ship, just in case…"

Twenty-Seven

The entire crew was on the bridge of the Butterworth as they approached Relm. It was nothing that could be seen from transpace, but it would come into view as soon as they dropped to sublight speed.

"Prepare for debreak," Suni announced.

The bright white of transpace, decorated with a multitude of colorful stars enveloped the ship as a point directly ahead began to grow, getting larger and larger. In a moment, the dark of realspace swallowed them, and a spectacular array of bright stars illuminated their forward view screen. At this velocity, they had some slowing to do, which went quickly with the new, powerful engines they had built and installed.

"Debreak completed," Dyna announced.

All of the crewmembers were dressed in battlesuits, neutronium-armored suits that carried a multitude of weapons systems, power-assisted motion and defensive systems. Even Sahn had donned one, taylored for her build and physique. She had learned all of the systems and practiced with them, as had all of the crewmembers.

"Battlestations," Suni ordered, but she didn’t need to, since everyone was already at their particular station, having prepared for this battle for some time. They all had some idea what to expect.

"We will be at the battle scene in three minutes and twenty seconds," Dyna announced.

They waited for three more minutes before Suni gave her next command.

"Twenty seconds to Relm," Dyna announced.

"Launch the remote battle cruisers," Suni ordered.

At that order, more than three hundred larger battle cruisers broke away from the hull of the Butterworth and charged ahead, fanning out as they went. Half of them went upward and the other half went downward to the left. Each was operated by a ship computer and had several bots to handle mechanical operations. Along with each battle cruiser went a compliment of projectile weapons, missiles and lasing weapons.

The attack would be three-pronged. One group would come in on the northern pole of the planet. Another group would come in along the equatorial region above the continent. These two groups would form-up and pinch-off the enemy ships caught between them. The Butterworth would take advantage of the ships caught between the two groups, forming a third part of the pinch-off.

"Enemy sighted," Michelle announced, and at that, they saw the armada.

"We have tacticals of their formation," Anna announced, and displayed the positions of all of the known enemy ships above the planet in a three-dimensional image at the center of the bridge. In the very center of the image was Relm. Around it shown images of all the enemy ships in red and the images of all the friendlies in green. Some of the ships were large enough to be visible in the image.

"Oh my Gawd," someone said. "Look at the size of those things."

"They’re as big as us."

"Enemy ship count is six thousand, four hundred and ninety-one," Dyna said. "Forty-three are battle stations, two thousand, one hundred and twenty-two are battle cruisers, eight hundred and eighty-three are destroyers and the rest are small to medium-sized attack craft."

The first sorties were already headed their way, along with multiple volleys of smart missiles. Equal numbers of sorties and missiles were headed for the two other battle groups.

"Battle mode bridge, Dyna," Suni ordered.

At once, all of the walls fell away from the bridge, to be replaced with a single large viewscreen, encompassing the entire, now spherical bridge. At the center of the sphere were nine crew stations, equally spaced apart, each station having a clear view of that part of the sphere. Suni sat in the middle of it all, guiding the ship, manuevering and dodging about to gain tactical advantage, all the time making headway for the pinch point of the three-pronged attack.

"Engage the enemy," Suni ordered, "Fire at will!"

At that command, the spherical viewscreen erupted in flashes of bright white lasing weapons, missiles and superfast projectiles. Far off, enemy ships began exploding en masse. The battle cruisers were the most vulnerable, being the largest.

Within moments after the first Butterworth volley, enemy missiles began striking the hull of the Butterworth.

"Damage report!" Suni called.

"Minimal damage," Dyna replied, "Less than one percent loss of outer skin where attacks made contact."

The gigantic Butterworth proved a bit more manueverable than enemy forces had expected. Suni poured power into the engines that moved her around and within moments changed the entire battle scene. They plowed through the forward battle group with such speed that the enemy had no time to switch weapons for close battle and their missiles went wide. Their lasing weapons still made contact, but hull damage remained minor.

In moments, they were behind the forward attack force, leaving them to peddle their way back into the fray, only after significant amounts of energy were expended to reverse their respective courses. The sudden burst of speed and power caught the rear forces by surprise. While they were still arming and loading weapons, the Butterworth stormed through those forces, leaving a cloudly trail of debris and explosions in her wake.

In the path in front of her lay three large battlestations, lined up like little balls on a pool table. Suni had set the course, having seen this alignment in order to take advantage of their foolishness.

"Ramming mode!" Suni yelled out.

At once, the nose of the Butterworth began reshaping itself into a tip, as an arrowhead. Powerful nuclear wavefields realigned neutrons in the skin of the Butterworth to form the tip of a spear. She aimed carefully and poured a little more power into the engines. Too late, the enemies realized the folly of their parking arrangement and tried to move out of the way. The last ship in the alignment seemed to be the slowest to move.

By the time it began to move aside, the speartip of the Butterworth began piercing the first of the three battlestations, explosions bursting from around the edges as the tip sunk through to the center of the battlestation. In less than a second, the Butterworth shuddered as it tore through. In a few more seconds, the tip came into contact with the second battle station. Again, in less than a second it was through, leaving behind massive flaming shards.

The last battle station had only begun to move out of the way, and when the Butterworth finally made contact, it was only slightly off-center. Another fraction of a second and it was through, leaving three gigantic clouds of flame, dust and debris. Of the other forty battle stations, only thirty-four remained, since four of those had been destroyed by the other two battle groups and two had been destroyed by neutron torpedos from the Butterworth.

Ahead of them lay Relm, along with a few rearguard destroyers. Lasing weapons and missiles made quick work of this group. They were in the pinch. The other two Butterworth battle groups had rejoined them and the planet was dead ahead. Of their three hundred battle cruisers, two hundred and eighty remained.

"Launch landing craft and begin shelling enemy ground forces," Suni ordered, "Begin Phase 2 of the attack plan."

At that, fifteen thousand warbots in one hundred and fifty landing craft began falling away from the launch bays of the Butterworth, headed for the surface of Relm. Five thousand warbots were held in reserve in order to shore-up any forces caught in bad ground positions later.

At the same time, the two battle groups crossed paths and headed up to higher orbit to defend the Butterworth position above the landing forces, while she defended them as they made their way toward the surface of the planet. In short order, the two battle groups split into four battle groups. Two of those took orbital positions about the Butterworth to take on lateral forces, one group defended from above the Butterworth and the last group went to take on the nearest enemy battle group, which included two of the gigantic battle stations and more than three hundred battle cuisers.

By this time, most of the enemy forces were in disarray. Many were regrouping for an attack on the defended Butterworth position and some were leaving the system, having suffered great losses and deciding not to tangle with the Shadow Ship any further. The Butterworth focused much of its firepower on defended enemy ground positions. Although the landing craft hulls were constructed of neutronium, several were lost to enemy anti-aircraft missiles. Only a few of those warbots were lost, since they were constructed with landing systems that allowed them to drop to the surface without damage.

"Launch the air attack craft," Suni ordered.

More than three hundred small aircraft, designed to operate in both air and space began dropping from the launch bay of the Butterworth. Most of these headed for the surface, aligning in attack groups on critical enemy ground positions. The rest of them engaged enemy aircraft in air-to-air combat, defending both the landing craft and the ground attack aircraft.

"We have ground reconnasaince, Captain," Nikki anounced, "There are over three million enemy ground forces."

"Jeez," came from Sandy.

"What about human life signs," Suni asked.

"None, Captain" Nikki replied, "but there are places where we can’t see him."

"How’s that?" Suni asked.

"Heavy metals are blocking our subsurface scans. Some places have a lot of gold, platinum, titanium and other heavy metals in trace amounts."

"Get me a tactical on those places we can’t read, Nikki."

"Aye, Captain. I’ll have it in a minute."

In the meantime, the battle raged outside the ship. Here, in the command center/bridge of the Butterworth, it was almost quiet. Each crewmember had her own station and manned it diligently and flawlessly according to plan. Occasionally, a small rumble made its way from the hull of the ship where a missile had struck.

Suni still worried about an attack from the Black Hole people, but thus far, they had not shown up. The new, thicker hull would help against them, and was certainly making life easier against these other attackers. So far, the Butterworth’s new hull had proven to be nearly impervious to their weapons. Not so with the battle group escorts, the landing craft or the ground attack aircraft. Those vessels had been made with thinner hulls, since there had not been time to gather enough matter from the black hole to make them all indestructable. She had to rely on cunning and strategy.

So many machines had to be built for this operation that there was an overall shortage of neutronium for everything, and many things had to be made a little weaker. Even so, she did not skimp on the warbots or the Butterworth hull. The warsuits that the crewmembers wore were also designed and built with care. Short of being caught in a star corona, these warsuits would keep the wearer alive in almost any environment, especially the vacuum of space, in case the Butterworth was damaged to the point of losing its hull integrity.

"Captain, I have tactical imaging on those heavy metal formations," Nikki anounced. "There appear to be about twenty-two locations of sufficient concentration to block our scans below the surface of the planet. How certain are we that Frank is here… on this planet?"

"Net says he is definitely here and hasn’t left the planet. Either he’s dead and his body has been destroyed or he’s hiding under one of those metal deposits."

"I’ve found evidence of a neutronium spill too, Captain," Nikki said.

"Where?"

"In the ocean off the western coast of the continent. But it’s like a trail, like it was burned off a little at a time. I’m seeing multiple elements in the spill. I think he’s not wearing his skinsuit anymore, Captain."

"Oh my," this came from Tia.

"Trong," Suni ordered, over the ground-link comset, "I’m sending tactical data on twenty-two locations I want your bots to search for Frank. He’s probably hiding underground at one of those locations."

"Aye, Captain," came over the comset. The warbots could move quickly over the ground, and Trong had forces moving toward those locations within moments.

Above the Butterworth and laterally, the battle raged as the four battle groups defended the Butterworth position and staged aggressive attacks on the various enemy battle groups as they regrouped from the various attacks and feints that were mounted. By this time, nearly a third of the enemy forces had either been destroyed or were retreating. At the same time, about a quarter of the Butterworth battle group had been destroyed or damaged. Some of those ships were limping back for repairs.

"Captain," Nikki said, "it seems the enemy has the same notion we’ve had. Every one of the twenty-two locations I told you about is under heavy occupation by enemy forces. They’re looking for Frank, too."

Twenty-Eight

Frank and Gronk had been relaxing over a game a pool when the first sounds came from the front of the cave. Gronk peered over at his battle console and let out a yelp. A moment later, an audio alarm went off.

"Damn! We should’ve been watching. They’ve found us!" he said.

"Then why weren’t we?" Frank chided.

"I didn’t think they would find us this soon. Something must’ve changed on the timeline."

"The timeline? You mean you knew exactly when this was going to happen?"

"I thought I did, but something’s altered it… oh… you did. Damn. I should’ve known about that."

"What do you mean?"

"No time to explain! Put this on, quick!" Gronk tossed Frank the neutronium-armored suit and its weapons gloves. At that moment, a loud blast and bright flash came from the front of the cave, tossing both Frank and Gronk to the ground. They both grabbed up their suits and went back to putting them on, albeit, remaining on the ground as they did so.

At once, repelling weapons mounted along the innards of the cave came alive with bright laser flashes and small missiles. At the same time, a heavy stone barrier heaved into place, blocking entry to their section of the cave, allowing a couple of holes through which to fire weapons.

"We have a minute or two before they get here, but we have to be ready," Gronk said.

True to his prediction, it was about another minute before enemy troops began showing themselves to Frank and Gronk. It was none too soon that Frank had donned his neutronium-armored suit, since almost in the same moment, he was blasted to the ground by a small projectile that had made its way through one of the small holes. For a moment, he thought he had been injured, but the neutronium battle suit had protected him.

In another moment, he was up and watching through the eyes of his remotes on the heads-up display, picking out targets and firing small smart missiles at them. Gronk was well into his thirties of victims by the time Frank started after his first. Frank recognized the enemy intruders as those he had seen before. These were Okofani warriors, dressed out in armored suits. The missiles he fired at them were about eighty percent effective.

In another moment, the mountain shook.

"That’s an air assault!" Gronk yelled over the din. He used a remote control device to activate anti-aircraft batteries at the surface of the mountain. Frank had lost two of his remotes, but was still able to see that they now planned to storm the cave mouth en masse. Hundreds of Okofani were massed for the attack.

"I guess now is time for the thunderblinders," Frank yelled.

"No!" Gronk yelled, "Don’t waste time on that! Use the projectile weapons!"

"The guns?"

"Yeah, they’re fully automatic and they’ll spray six-hundred rounds a second."

"But we’ll be out of ammo in a few seconds."

"No. They’re low-density neutronium rounds. The gun takes neutronium from your battle suit and converts it. You’ll have hundreds of thousands of rounds before your battle suit is used up."

"Oh. And what happens then?"

"We run like hell!"

Frank and Gronk both lifted their gloves into the sight holes in the barrier and began firing at the fast-moving crowd of Okofani warriors raging into their tunnel. Frank could feel the sting through his glove whenever some projectile struck it, and there were many, since the Okofani were firing at the holes with whatever they could. But the projectile weapons did the job of holding off the onslought. The Okofani were mowed down by the dozens by the rapidly-firing weapon. Frank had not imagined that old-fashioned guns had a place in such advanced warfare.

The projectile weapons were nearly one hundred percent effective, easily penetrating the Okofani armor. In a few more moments, Frank lost the last of his remotes, only in time to see a huge amored vehicle move into place in front of Gronk’s cave.

"Do you see that?" he asked Gronk.

"No, my remotes are gone! What’s happening?"

"They’re pulling in heavy armor—tanks of some kind!"

"Well, that’s it! Time to get the hell out of here!" At that, Gronk ran for the escape tunnel. Frank fired a few thousand more projectile rounds before following. They had to crawl on hands and knees through the small, dark tunnel. Frank could barely make out Gronk’s dim form ahead as they quickly made their way along it.

"I guess they’re not following," Frank said.

"They have to find the tunnel first," Gronk replied, "It’s disguised."

For several minutes, they crawled down several hundred meters of tunnel, going deeper and deeper into the mountain. They finally reached the end, where the tunnel curved upward sharply and came up to a hole in the floor of another cave. Emerging from the hole in the floor, the small cave-room lit up, displaying a variety of fire control consoles. Screens in the tiny room showed exterior activity all around them. The mountain was swarming with the enemy all around. Apparently, word had gotten out that this was a hot spot, and the Okofani had been quick to mobilize additional troops.

Anti-aircraft batteries were running on automatic, firing both missiles and projectiles at enemy aircraft. Support ground batteries defended the anti-aircraft positions, but the enemy was quickly breaking down those defenses.

"Is there another escape from here?" Frank asked.

"There is…" Gronk replied, and tapped some buttons on one of the consoles, bringing up another view on one of the screens. "But it’s been discovered." On the screen, they saw several Okofani troops blasting away at a hole in the side of the mountain.

"What if they send smart missiles down that tunnel?"

"That one’s a maze. I’m the only one who knows the way through it… if I can remember. I guess I’d better seal up the other tunnel, in case they find the entrance." He tapped another button and the sounds of small explosions echoed from the hole they had just crawled in through.

"So now what?" Frank asked.

"I guess we wait for your friends."

"This room is kinda cramped."

"Yup. That’s why I waited until the last minute. Want something to drink? Wine? Beer?"

"What do you have?"

"I took a liking to this. And we have some of this, too."

"How could you know this?" Frank said, awed.

"Know what?"

"These are both my favorites."

"Really? Mine too."

"No shit?"

"No shit."

"Cheers," Frank said, as he took a swig..

"To the Shadow Riders," Gronk replied, taking a swig from his own beer.

"Say, how come you never brought any of your females with you when you started out?"

"I didn’t know we were allowed to. Can you believe it? In all these years I never figured it out, either. You’re the first one I’ve ever heard of doing that."

"Well, who decides what we’re allowed to do, anyway? Who decides what we’re supposed to do?’

"Dunno. I never ran into anybody to tell me."

"So what did you do for ten million years?"

"Whatever I wanted. I just did what I thought was right. Don’t get me wrong, it was interesting and exciting. I met millions of people from hundreds of thousands of races. And in a lot of galaxies, I’m very well respected. And well known."

"But you’re quiting."

"Yeah. You know Frank, if I’d thought to bring some females along, this might have been a lot more fun than it was. I was really lonely at times. I thought I was going to give you a spiel on how to deal with loneliness when I was going to first meet you. How, after a while, you get used to it and all. And then after a really long time, you don’t even notice it. But you beat me to the punch. You’ve already solved the loneliness problem. You could go on a hundred million years, and never have to worry about it."

"A hundred million years? I can’t even fathom that much time. I can’t fathom a million years. Or a hundred thousand."

Frank and Gronk sat for the next hour, watching the screens as the Okofani blasted the mountain with smart bombs and did what they could to open the escape hole. In that time, they put away two six-packs of beer and were starting on the wine.

It seemed by this time, from the screens they watched, that the Okofani were now fighting two battles. Apparently, there was another enemy they could not see, well into the foliage, closing on the Okofani forces.

Twenty-Nine

Tia, Sandy and Michelle had donned warsuits in the planetwide hunt for Frank, having taken charge of several battalions of warbots each, approached from different directions, the mountain where they believed Frank might be. This had been the site of a massive buildup of enemy forces, particularly the Okofani. But other forces had joined them in the fray. Of the ground forces, the Okofani made up more than half.

Tia had taken charge of three thousand warbots and headed through the passes into the little valley that most of the activity was focused in. Close-air support backed them up as she and her warbots raced upward through the mountains. While the warbots could move more quickly, Tia was human and even with enhanced warsuit abilities, still was only able to move at eighty kilometers per hour. She and her warbots were well into the enemy’s ranks before they realized it, having plowed their way into the skirmish.

At once, the warbots surrounded Tia, offering their bodies as cover for her. But she used them to gain a tactical lead on the enemy, as they raced into the bulk of the mechanical soldiers. The mechanicals were at first, surprised, but soon took up defensive posistions and began returning fire on the warbots. Tia continued her race through the valley, barely noticing that the mechanicals were falling off behind them. A few warbots were lost, but the mechanicals took most of the beating, having lost more than half of this contingient.

The dense foliage gave Tia and her warbots some difficulty, since they avoided using existing paths, fearing that they may have been mined. It did not take long for the mechanicals to regroup and give chase. Within minutes after passing through the mechanical contingient, heavy shelling began to take its toll. Air support fighters flew off to attack those positions and Tia took her warbots up the ridge, bounding in thirty-meter leaps.

She reached the top of the ridge that bounded the valley where Frank was believed to be holed up, and stopped. Before her and her warbots was a collection of armies.

"Suni, this is Tia," she called up to the Butterworth.

"Tia, I show your position right at the entrance to the valley," Suni replied.

"That’s right. There are many enemy troops between me and the mountain."

"I can see. That position is well guarded from above. We'll try to get aerial bombardment for you, but it doesn’t look good. Our scans show more than two hundred thousand enemy ground forces."

"I have only three thousand warbots," Tia replied.

"Help is on the way. Sandy is approaching from the east and Michelle is coming in from the south."

Tia looked off to the east and saw more mountains with few passes. To the south were more mountains and a few more passes. As she could see from her vantagepoint, the passes were well defended.

"I think they will not arrive quickly," Tia said. "Which pass is the most difficult?"

"The eastern pass will be the most difficult," Suni replied. "The southern passes will be too difficult to defend. There are too many of them. Michelle should be able to get through them without too many problems. If you can help Sandy, that would be the best approach for you."

"I'll move my forces along the ridge and attempt to free up the pass for Sandy. I'll need close air support and aerial bombardment if you can get it to me."

"Air support is on the way. We’ll do what we can to get you some aerial bombardment, but it won't be easy—we’re under attack here, too."

"Understood. Tia, out."

Tia took her forces along the ridge on a southeasterly track, taking fire and returning it. She and her warbots were visible along the ridge and the enemy forces realized what she was doing in short order. They moved quickly to pinch off her only route to the eastern pass, so Tia and her warbots moved higher into the mountains as they tracked along the ridge. Within minutes, close air support arrived and began low bombing runs into the troops attempting to cut her off. More low bombing runs were made along the mountainside, where additional enemy troops were holed up, waiting to pounce on anyone attempting to move up the mountain.

Climbing the mountain was easy for both Tia and her warbots, but fighting back its defenders was not. There were many small, defended positions up the mountain, and always their battle was upward. A few warbots were lost along the way, but it took much destruction to disable one. Often, only a direct hit with explosive ordnance was the only thing that could do so. Tia could tell she was taking a lot of flak, that, smacking noisily through her warsuit. Without her warsuit, she would have been long since dead.

The mechanicals were still on their heels, but they could not move as quickly as Tia and her warbots. She fired her weapon ceaselessly at nearly anything that moved, often hitting enemy troops, killing them with the powerful projectile weapon she had armed herself with. She also had a lasing weapon at her disposal, but the projectile weapon seemed to be more effective and required less power. On her back, she carried additional projectile mass with which to make neutronium-based bullets. These left her weapon at some speed comparable to orbital velocity, so they went through almost anything.

~

Michelle had gathered her troops south of the mountain where they now believed Frank was hiding. More than four thousand warbots had joined her by the time she reached the pass into the valley where Frank might be. There was light resistance leading up the pass, but when she and her warbots arrived, the pass was heavily defended. Her force had suffered losses from aerial bombardment as well, though the warbots held up even through the bombardment. Her own warsuit had already been damaged once, disabling it and she had to stop to repair it.

She had some small wounds and lacerations, suffered when her warsuit was damaged from a bomb that landed three meters from her, tossing her sixty meters and rupturing her warsuit. That bomb had disabled two warbots. Large repairbots accompanied her force, and were either recylcing the damaged warbots or repairing them. No neutronium was to be left lying about. There were spare parts aplenty for any warbot that needed one.

Within a kilometer of the pass, her contingient had to stop, pinned down by enemy fire. Large, explosive rounds littered the air around them, so they remained in the safety of whatever cover they could find. The warbots of course, were fearless, but Michelle had stopped them in order to prevent excess casualties.

"I need air support!" she yelled into her microset, "Take out the guns on that pass!"

"This is air support group tango charlie one-five-nine. Compliance. ETA to target; four minutes."

While she and her warbots waited, the rain of projectiles and bombs from the pass continued to takes its toll on their numbers. Warbots did not seem to hide very well, seemingly impervious to the notion of death. Mostly they seemed to be chomping at the bit, itching to get into a fight. Their projectile and lasing weapons worked well, even at this distance, but the enemy was too well dug-in for their weapons to do enough damage.

Overhead, Michelle watched as a string of low-altitude bombers began their run.

"Move out!" she yelled, and four thousand warbots jumped from poorly chosen hiding places and began bounding up the pass. In less than a minute, come hell or high water, the pass would be taken, warbots pouring through and overwhelming whoever was up there.

She attempted to take the lead, but the warbots were faster and would not allow her to speartip the attack. As one warbot would fall, another moved forward to take its place. As soon as the low altitude bombers started dropping bombs and strafing the pass, enemy fire dropped off and the warbots increased their pace, now moving at two hundred kilometers per hour. They would be at the pass in less than a minute. Michelle, being slower than the warbots, would be a minute getting there, only to witness the ruins after the assault.

As expected, the warbots cleared even the entrenched positions before she arrived. Enemy dead lay about everywhere. On reaching the pass, she was awestruck by the beauty of the valley it guarded and the granduer of the mountain where Frank might be hiding. She also took note of the huge enemy army camped out in the valley, already in arms over her abrupt arrival. The sky above her thundered with the roar of aircraft from both sides, battling for dominance of the skies.

As their own aircraft bombed and strafed enemy ground positions in the valley below, enemy aircraft bombed and strafed her warbots. The warbots came equiped with anti-aircraft weaponry and used it. The enemy aircraft outnumbered the Butterworth compliment eight to one. The warbots were nearly one hundred percent effective in shooting down the aircraft they fired at, but there were so many of them that the effort was nearly ineffective.

"Spread out!" she ordered the warbots over her com set. Immediately, the warbots scattered into the surrounding trees and brush, forcing the enemy aircraft to pick them off one at a time. Even as they struck the warbots, not all of them fell, and some were not even disabled.

"Into the valley! Attack!" she yelled, and her warbot army fell upon the enemy army in full force, leaving a path of destruction wherever they went. The enemy army outnumbered them too greatly. She had expected Tia and Sandy to be attacking from the north and east, but they were nowhere in sight. She and her warbots were alone and well overpowered. Her warbots would fight to the end, so she comitted herself and her army, knowing that they would inflict massive damage on the enemy before they were through.

~

Sandy and her troop of eight thousand warbots were pinned down under the eastern pass, unable to get through to the valley that led to the mountain where they believed Frank might be hiding. Enemy aircraft seemed to dominate the skies above her, strafing and bombing them as they took cover. If she did not break through the pass soon, she would have no army to take through it. The warbots were fighting back with anti aircraft weaponry they had brought along, but there was not enough of it to keep them back.

"Sandy, this is Tia," came over her microset.

"I’m here, Tia. We’re pinned down! We can’t get through!"

"We’re just the other side of the pass, but you’ll have to give them a diversion so we can get up there." Tia replied.

"What kind of diversion," Sandy asked.

"We will need simultaneous close air support, you attack from there, and we attack from here. It must all be done quickly!"

"Will do! Let me know when you’re ready!" she yelled above the din.

"I have air support coordinated in four minutes and twenty seconds on my mark… mark!"

Sandy set her timer and waited as enemy aircraft pelted her warbots. Four minutes later, she signaled her warbots to prepare for attack. In a few moments, air support fighters came swooping in.

"Attack!" she yelled to her warbots.

Her army of, now less than, eight thousand warbots raced up into the pass, attacking everything that stood in front of them. Sandy made her pace as best she could, about seventy kilometers per hour, while her warbots outran her. Even so, she remained constantly surrounded by at least twenty warbots at any moment. This made it difficult for her to shoot at anything without hitting one of her warbots, although she tried.

~

Tia watched as the close air support craft made their bombing and strafing run and timed her attack on the eastern pass to coincide with the moment the first bombs fell. Behind her, the mechanicals, which had been placed there strategically to prevent access to the northern ridge, were now catching up.

At the moment the first bombs fell, her warbots began swarming into the pass. Overwhelmed by forces on both sides and from above, the enemy guarding the pass retreated further up the mountain, many falling along the way. The pass was taken.

Tia and Sandy met at the pass. On the other side of the valley, they observed from their vantagepoint a nasty skirmish taking place. This they knew was Michelle, but they could both see that she was heavily outnumbered and would fall soon. The warbot casualties on the other side of the valley were becoming heavy.

"Air support group, we have the eastern pass," Tia called, over her microset, "We need you to move over and help Michelle!"

"This is air support group tango alpha one-four-four. Compliance. ETA to target; six minutes."

Between them, Tia and Sandy still had some nine thousand warbots. They were being resupplied as quickly as their field repairbots could pick up the pieces, but even some of those were getting destroyed in the battle.

"Tactical view," Tia spoke to her warsuit, and her heads-up-display gave her an image of the battlefield, showing Michelle’s forces nearly surrounded. In a few more minutes, they would all be destroyed, and Michelle might even be killed.

"We have to move out now!" Tia yelled over her microset.

The combined forces headed down into the valley, spreading out as they moved along. Nearly two hundred thousand enemy ground forces lay between them and Michelle. Tia monitored her heads-up-display as the enemy closed in on Michelle, but there was little she could do. They plowed right into the enemy, taking heavy casualties, but also inflicting heavy casualties on the enemy. After a few more minutes, Michelle and her forces were completely surrounded, and simply formed into a small, well-defended group

On her heads-up-display, Tia saw that Michelle was in the middle of the group, but soon they would be overtaken and all destroyed.

In a few more minutes, air support rolled in, strafing and bombing enemy troops, giving Michelle a respite, but it was not enough to stop them, and her circle of warbots grew smaller.

"What are we going to do?" Tia said, to Sandy.

"Look," she said.

She flipped out her heads-up-display and looked where Sandy was pointing, in the air, more warbot troop carriers were converging on the site were Michelle was pinned down, dropping around her. Some of the carriers were shot down, but many of the warbots inside still survived, being able to guide themselves to the target zone without a carrier.

"How many are coming?" Tia asked.

"Those are our last five thousand," came over the microset. It was Suni. "We’re all out after this."

"That should be enough," Sandy said.

"No, it won’t be," Suni said, over the microset, "We’ve calculated your loss ratio. You don’t have enough warbots between you to do this."

~

It had been three hours since the initial attack on the invaders over Relm by the Butterworth and her crew. Frank was somewhere beneath the planet surface and Suni had a fairly good idea where he was. The ruckas that had begun around Site 11 with the heavy metal deposits suggested that somebody was fighting back against the enemy ground force attack. She was certain it was Frank.

She did not know where or how he had gotten weaponry that could fend off such a force, but the fact that the battle had become heated told her that somebody down there with lots of firepower was giving the enemy their money’s worth in defensive capability. Tia, Sandy and Michelle had volunteered to go to the surface to lead the warbots into the battle and take the valley beneath the mountain.

At first, Suni had been against sending humans to the surface, especially since warbots could handle the fighting. But after seeing the odds against the warbots, she realized that they would not be able to do the job alone. Warbots lacked creativity and strategy. Only humans could do this, with the aid of their warbots.

The situation would not have been so dire had it not been for the return of the Black Hole People. Although the Butterworth hull had been beefed up and improved, it had not been a match for the weaponry they used.

"Can you get a fix on the origin?" Suni asked, trying to get a lock on an enemy with both black hole and invisibility technology.

"I have a scan in the x-ray spectrum," Paddy relied, "There appears to be an anomaly at these coordinates," she said, passing the tactical data to Suni.

"Close enough," Suni replied, "Target that anomaly and send them one of our K-C Specials."

In a moment, a K-C Engine loaded with a heavy neutronium core was launched and immediately went into transpace. In another moment, at the coordinates given, a bright star appeared at first, then it become a very intensely bright star, as though a single event had triggered another.

"I think we got ‘em," Paddy said, "The anomaly appears to be gone, but it’s hard to tell with all the noise I’m getting. The first explosion is comparable to what the K-C Special should have yielded, and the second explosion indicates that something else blew up as well."

"Good," Suni replied, "But keep an eye out for that anomaly. We don’t want them sneaking up on us again. Damage report."

"The hull is breached," Dyna replied, "There is a large hole amidships. We cannot breaklight for sixty-two hours, but we have manuevering capability. One of the engines is damaged and will be inoperable for forty-three hours. Repairs are underway."

"Suni, I’ve got another Black Hole ship… no, two… no, three more Black Hole ships on x-ray scan!" Paddy said.

"We’ve got to get over Site 11," Suni replied, "Target them and take them out."

"We can’t," Nikki replied, "They’re moving, now. That first one we got because it was stationary. Unless they’re stationary, we can’t get a targeting lock on them."

At that moment, the ship shuddered again with another heavy impact.

"Report!" Suni said.

"We’ve been struck by another Black Hole weapon," Dyna replied.

"Evasive manuevers!" Suni yelled.

At once, the Butterworth began moving away from its current position, where it had been stationary. Other enemy forces, witnessing the multiple explosive impacts, began converging on the weakened Butterworth. Battlecruisers shored up defenses and held their ground against the enemy onslaught. It was taking too long to get Frank back, Suni knew, but she also knew that this would be their only chance.

"Maria, lock targeting on those three Black Hole ships and fire," Suni said.

"Our targeting will be off, Suni," Maria replied.

"Then use your best guess. We have hundreds of the K-C Specials. Use them. Fill the sky with them. They can’t evade all of them."

Maria was still healing from her wounds during the attack against her on Iskol, but was well enough to work a weapons station while Sahn and Heidi rested. She watched her scanners as the x-ray images danced and moved about, obviously also performing evasive manuevers. Without knowing how large these vessels were, it would be difficult to know just how many K-C Specials to fire. Looking for a pattern, she noted that one of them was manuevering in a rather predictable manner—an unwise thing to do when evading.

She loaded up fifteen K-C Specials in a small spread that would all appear within a few hundred meters of each other. If the Black Hole ship was not too small, she might hit it. She waited for the pattern to repeat, saw it and then fired the spread. All fifteen K-C Specials appeared at once and then disappeared into transpace, only to reappear a few moments later and explode immediately.

The fifteen nearly simultaneous neutronium core explosions were almost indistinguishable from one-another, but the screens of anyone watching would be able to tell that there were many explosions. One subsequent explosion told her that she had hit paydirt. One more of the Black Hole ships had been destroyed.

"That’s one, Suni," Maria said.

"Good work, Maria. Now get me the other two."

"That may not be so easy."

It would not be easy. The other two were not using recognizable patterns in their evasive manuevers. While she was attempting to see the pattern, yet another explosion rumbled through the Butterworth.

"Damage report," Suni said.

"Exterior hull rupture at the stern. Eighty-one hours to repair," Dyna replied, "Repairs will be underway shortly."

"We can’t stay sublight for eighty-one more hours. They’ll destroy us," Suni muttered, "We’ve got to get those other two ships. Maria, how are we doing?"

"Best I can, Suni. I can’t see any patterns of movement in these other two."

"I have another crazy idea, Suni," Anna said.

"I’ll take anything right now."

"It’ll take some time."

"How much time?"

"Maybe an hour, maybe a little longer."

"Do it. Dyna, wake Heidi and get her up here on a weapons console," Suni said.

"Compliance."

"Sooner is better, Anna."

"Got it," Anna said, as she left her station and headed for the laboratory.

Paddy was on the remaining weapons console, dealing with the more conventional enemy warships. This console, of neccesity, had been modified with more computer control so that she needed only identify the targets and the weapons systems would take over. But there were so many of them, and she was working in three dimensions. She worked in a holographic sphere, but since she was only one person, she had to see in all directions.

A few moments later, Heidi arrived, looking groggy, but awake.

"Heidi, take over Nikki’s weapons console, opposite Paddy, please," Suni said.

"Aye, Suni. Food Service, can I have some coffee here," Heidi called out.

"Compliance," came from the Food Service computer, "Coffee is on the way."

"Are we doing evasive manuevers?" Heidi asked.

"Affirmative," Suni replied.

Maria, still trying to find some pattern in the Black Hole ships’ evasive manuevers, fired blindly into space, hoping to get a lucky shot, but thus far had managed to waste some forty-odd K-C Specials. The two remaining ships were now on either side of the Butterworth, lining up to take more shots at it.

Keeping the battle cruisers and smaller ships in defensive positions while moving the Butterworth around was becoming tricky, at best. Suni directed those forces while Nikki conducted evasive manuevers. The two remaining Black Hole ships were certain to be missing many shots with these manuevers, but they were, as was the Butterworth, also having to deal with evasive manuevers.

Other enemy forces were down to half, through destruction or flight. Many had given up after seeing how ineffective their weaponry had been against the Shadow Ship and its battle cruisers. Nor were they willing to offer themselves up as a distraction so that ships with more powerful weaponry could get in and take their shots. But the more powerful enemies had stayed. And they were wearing down the Shadow Ship defenses.

Landside, things were not going well. Tia, Sandy and Michelle had certainly found where Frank was hiding, but apparently, his secret was out, and they faced superior forces to get to him. It seemed, Frank had been holding his own and still was, inside the mountain, though Suni could not understand where he had acquired such sophisticated weaponry to hold off an attack force of this magnitude. This reeked of neutronium weapons. But where could Frank have gotten them?

The evidence was there. The commotion generated at this particular site was apparent even from orbit. Powerful explosive weapons were observed, troops were moving against the mountain and heavily armored vehicles had been moved into place. Suni had sent down the last of the warbot contingent when she saw that Michelle was in trouble. That was it. There was nothing else in reserve.

Thirty

"I hate to say it, Frank, but I think you’re people are outnumbered there," Gronk said, watching the viewscreens as he took a sip of wine.

"There must be something we can do," Frank replied.

"Sure. We can go out there and add to their numbers."

"Any one of those warbots has ten times the firepower you or I have. We’d die in the attempt."

"Well, I didn’t say it was a good solution. It’s just a solution."

"Hopefully one of many. Isn’t there anything else we can do?"

"Not sure…"

Frank and Gronk were still holed-up deep in the mountain, inside a small room barely big enough for the two of them, drinking beer and wine and watching the battle rage outside the mountain. Optical pickups outside the mountain showed them various images of the surrounding terrain. Most importantly, it showed them the overwhelming forces of the enemy. Frank’s warbot forces, though impressive, were far outnumbered by the forces that surrounded the mountain.

The mountainside was still being pounded with enemy bombs, and many of the optical pickups had been damaged or destroyed. Some had been found by the enemy.

"There must be something we can do besides sit here and get drunk," Frank said.

"There is… but I’m a little worried about using it," Gronk replied.

"What?"

"The thumb weapon."

"I thought that was a last resort."

"I think we’re there."

"Ugh."

"Say, that’s a sound my people used to make."

"What do we have to do?"

"It’s dangerous. Not just for us, but for your people too."

"My people?"

"They could be injured or killed. How good are those suits they’re wearing?"

"They’ve got to be neutronium. Suni wouldn’t have allowed those girls out there without the best. They’re better than these," Frank said, gesturing at the battlesuits he and Gronk wore.

"It might kill a lot of your warbots, too."

"They can be fixed or replaced."

"What’s happening there?" Gronk said, pointing at the viewscreen.

"What?"

"Look. Where have all your warbots gone? Over there?" he pointed at one of the screens.

"They wouldn’t have done that."

"Done what?"

"Left that group over there to fend for themselves," Frank replied. Indeed, Tia and Sandy had disappeared with their respective armies and left Michelle to fend for herself with her lone eight thousand warbots. She would be overwhelmed within the hour.

"And now, on that ridge, another army approaches. The mech army," Gronk said.

"Mech army?"

"Yeah. They’re all robots—Mechanicals—they’re used by some planets that have that kind of technology. They’re usually pretty good fighters, not always as good as biologics, but good. What they lack in instinct they make up for in numbers. This is bad. There’s got to be at least a hundred thousand of them."

The Mechanical army was moving quickly over the ridge, having been on the heels of Tia’s division, but now niether Tia’s nor Sandy’s divisions were anywhere to be seen.

"Could they have gone into hiding?" Gronk asked.

"Where? There’s a tree line, but there’s no way they could’ve hidden that many warbots. There were thousands of them."

More than one hundred thousand Mechanicals crossed over the ridge and into the valley plain where several other armies were gathered. Each army seemed to be set up in a different camp, but there were enough places where they came into contact that small skirmishes broke out between them, which were quickly stopped by superior officers.

"Then we use the thumb weapon," Frank said, "We have no choice, now. There are too many of the enemy."

"But what about your group over there," Gronk asked, pointing at the screen where Michelle and her warbots were standing their ground. "They’ll all be wiped out if we use the thumb weapon, including your lady, there."

"Do you think any in that group has a chance of surviving?"

Gronk shook his head with a grim look on his face. With the addition of the Mechanical army, there was no way, even with all of Tia’s and Sandy’s warbots that they could defeat this mass of armies. Michelle’s division was surrounded, with no way to escape. Frank realized for the first time that he might lose one of his people.

"And what’s going on over here?" Gronk asked.

"What’s that? Oh. Another small fight, this time between the Mechs and those purple hat creatures."

"What’s this? Those purple hats are the Ehaadu, and that’s more than a small fight, my friend."

It was more than a small fight. It seemed to start in one place and then fighting broke out along the line between the Mechanicals and the Ehaadu. In a few more moments, another skirmish broke out between the Mechanicals and several Okofani warriors. On this front, the Mechanicals were less successful, but still seemed to be holding their own.

"They’re fighting over the spoils," Frank said, "They know we’re outnumbered, so they’ve relaxed and now that they know they have us, they fighting over who gets to take us home with them. They all want my ship."

"That’s some pretty fierce fighting over spoils, Frank. And look, now the Mohudu have joined in. They’re fighting the Mechs and the Okofani. Damn, boy! We might get out of this alive yet. But where are your other forces?"

"I don’t know," Frank answered, puzzled. "I can’t believe any of my crew would leave another to die, even if it meant dying with them. I don’t understand this."

Thirty-One

From her vantagepoint above Relm, Suni was confused. Obviously Tia’s and Sandy’s forces were still on the battlefield, since she was communicating with them, but tactical images showed them nowhere in sight. Enemy ships had kept the Butterworth away from that part of the planet with aggressive tactical moves, so she could not support them from above, but tactical data kept streaming in from support craft in the area of the heaviest fighting.

"Tia, Sandy, where are you? I can’t see you on any of my tactical images," Suni hailed them.

"We’re… hiding. I can’t tell you where right now—I’ll explain later." Tia answered.

"I need a little help, here," Michelle called in.

"We’re on our way," Sandy replied.

"Where? I can’t see you anywhere."

"Trust me. We’ll be there."

Suni could not see any warbot troop movement at all. The only warbots on her imaging systems were Michelle’s, and they were about to be overrun by the enemy. Warbots were formidable fighters, but even as powerful as they were, they were up against superior numbers with matching firepower.

~

Michelle’s forces, though surrounded, were dug in well. She had begun this battle with a solid six thousand warbots, but was now down to three thousand. Enemy casualties had been far heavier, having taken them down at a ratio of eight to one, but there were just too many of them. Just a half-hour earlier, she had observed Tia’s forces take the eastern pass and join with Sandy’s forces. And only a few minutes ago, all of their combined forces had simply vanished.

Surely she was on her own. But Tia had assured her that she was on her way. Even if she arrived at this moment, enemy forces would still overwhelm them. If there was anything good happening, the enemy armies were fighting amongst themselves, apparently in order to see who would get to capture Frank. But now, the fighting was getting pretty fierce, unlike what she had observed from earlier tactical images passed to her from the air support groups. Earlier images had shown light, occasional skirmishes, which were quickly broken up.

Perhaps now, with the end of the battle in sight, those alliances were falling apart and old rivalries were reemerging.

In a few more minutes, enemy attacks on her position became more sporadic and less organized. The fighting between the enemy armies had become an all out battle. Now they were fighting each other. Michelle could not comprehend this. If they continued in this manner, eventually one army would emerge victorious, but they would not have enough troops to go against her forces.

But the battle raged anyway. Bombs dropped on the field by enemy support craft littered the valley with craters and bodies of the fallen enemies. For an hour and a half, Michelle and her warbots held off the attackers while they battled against each other. In the end, it seemed the only two armies remaining were the Mechs and the Okofani. It was surprising to them, however, that the Mechs held so well against the Okofani, since the Okofani were far superior to the Mechs.

In another half an hour, Michelle’s attackers had nearly died off, having been called off to join in the battle between the Okofani and the Mechanicals. Still, Tia’s and Sandy’s forces were nowhere to be seen. Now the valley-become-battlefield was littered with bodies, vehicles and bomb pits. The strangest thing was that the Mechs were now winning against the Okofani. Both armies were dwindling in size. What began as more than four hundred thousand strong, including the Mechs, was now down to a mere fifty thousand between the two remaining armies.

It was known that neither Mechs nor Okofani ever surrendered, so this battle would be down to the last man or machine. In another half an hour, the Okofani were down to a thousand, while the Mechs were down to five thousand, but the fighting was still fierce.

Michelle felt at this point that she had sufficient forces to take them all out.

"Tia, where are you?" Michelle ventured over her comset. "I’m taking my forces in. I’m going to wipe out the remainder of these two armies."

"No! Michelle, hold your position!"

"But I can take them now!"

"No! You’ll be firing on us!"

"What?"

"But how? I don’t see you anywhere."

"Just hold your position. We’ll be there soon!"

Michelle could not see signs of Tia’s or Sandy’s warbots anywhere. She looked over her tactical images again, looking for any sign of warbots. Besides her own, there were none to be seen anywhere. She watched as the Mechs wiped away the remainder of the Okofani. Some four thousand Mechs began fighting amongst themselves, yet. Now this was very confusing. Mechs fighting Mechs?

Within minutes, another thousand Mechs lay in ruins, and the main force of some three thousand Mechs began marching towards Michelle’s position. She had seen how effective they had been against the Okofani and braced for the onslought. Those Mechs had fought at least as well as her own warbots. They were now four thousand Mechs against her three thousand warbots. With those numbers, given a one-to-one loss ratio, her forces would be destroyed.

"Tia, where are you? The Mechanicals are coming my way and I can’t take them—they outnumber us!"

"Relax. We’re here."

"Where?"

"Right in front of you."

Just as Tia said it, the first Mechs came marching onto her position, weapons put away. They made no move to attack, but simply marched into the open.

"What in the name of…"

"It’s us!" Tia said, as one of the lead Mechs looked up and waved at her.

"What??? But… how?"

"You forget. Warbot shapes are programmable."

"Ooooooooh, right. You reprogrammed them all to look like Mechanicals and then merged with those troops."

"Yes. And then when we got into position in the valley, we started some fights. The enemy troops we started fights with fought back indiscriminately, often shooting at the real Mechanicals, who also fought back. Before we knew it, we were in an all out battle. The Mechanicals didn’t know any better so they helped us. We just blended in with them. They don’t fight very well, but they had the numbers, so everything went our way."

"My god, you’re insane."

"Thanks."

"Where’s Sandy?"

"She’s back there somewhere," Tia said, thumbing behind her. "Trong, secure this valley and make sure there are no other enemy troops about. Place units on all of those passes until we can gather everything and get clear of here. Send the repairbots to gather up our damaged warbots. And make sure there are no warbot parts lying about anywhere." Trong stood beside her as she said this.

"Compliance," Trong replied.

"Now where’s Frank?" Tia asked.

"We think he’s under that mountain somewhere," Michelle replied, pointing at the southern mountain. "There’s a little village near a cave. That’s were all the commotion started. I hope he’s still alive."

"Suni," Tia announced over her comset, "the valley is secured. We’re going in to look for Frank now."

"Good work, Tia. I’ll be sending craft down to collect damaged equipment as soon as I can. The situation here is still a little dicey. There are at least two Black Hole ships attacking us, in addition to the armada that was waiting for us when we got here."

"Ten-four, Suni. We’ll be waiting for pickup as soon as we find Frank."

"Well?" Tia said, gazing at the valley below and the mountain above, as though wondering what to do next.

"Let’s go find him." Michelle said.

Thirty-Two

"Your Suni was right to send humans along with your warbots," Gronk said.

"Wow," was all that Frank could say for several minutes after observing what had just transpired.

Frank and Gronk had watched, stunned, as the attacking armies, one-by-one, fought and wiped each other out. Gronk had been amazed to see the Mechs fight as well as they did, and commented that he thought these were some of the best mechanical fighters he had ever seen. Then, after finally defeating the last of the Okofani, they watched in shock as the Mechs started fighting amongst themselves, yet. After that was finished, they knew that the Mechs still had sufficient forces to wipe out the remaining warbot force under the southern pass. They watched with baited breath as the remainder of the Mechs approached the warbot division with their weapons holstered.

When the two groups finally merged without so much as a shot being fired, Frank finally realized what had happened. "Whoever came up with with that crazy stunt gets me for a whole month," Frank said.

"Let’s hope it was a woman," Gronk replied.

Frank chuckled at that, got up and fell forward, drunk.

"Geez, you people don’t hold your alcohol very well, do you," Gronk said, getting up.

"I didn’t think I had that much to drink, Frank said, pulling himself off the floor of the cave, "How the hell do we get outta here, now?"

"We have to go through the maze, this way," Gronk said as he opened a panel and crawled through.

Gronk moved quickly through the tunnels on hands and knees, and Frank had some difficulty keeping up. Twice Gronk stopped to wait for Frank, to insure that Frank did not get lost in the maze of tunnels.

After a half an hour of crawling, Gronk said, "We’re almost there."

Frank was growing weary of crawling, this not being a natural means of locomotion for him.

"Okay, I’m ou…" was all Frank heard before the explosion that shook the mountain. In the next moment, he heard the cave collapse ahead of him.

Thirty-Three

"Shore up that breach!" Suni yelled into her com set at her battle cruisers, "They’re trying to flank us!"

The Butterworth had been riddled with holes from attacks by the Black Hole ships. In the meantime, conventional enemy forces were still attempting to converge on the weakened Butterworth position. Suni had some difficulty keeping near Site 11 while trying to perform evasive manuevers to avoid attack from the Black Hole ships.

"Suni! I’ve redesigned some of the K-C Specials. They should be ready to fire now," Nikki said.

"Thank god you’re back. Fire them whenever you have a target." Suni replied.

"They’re all automatic," Nikki said, seating herself at her weapons station. How many of them did you get?"

"Only the two we got before. They’re still evading us."

At once, two K-C Specials came into view and then dropped out of view, transitioning into transpace. In moments, both of them began bleeping into and out of normal space, as they made their way to their targets. In another moment, one bright flare came into view, then a very bright flare in the same place, then another flare in another place, also followed by a very bright flare.

"Does that mean what I think it means?" Suni asked.

"I think so. Scanning for x-ray emissions… I’m not getting anything. I think we got both of them," Nikki replied.

"Damn, what did you do?"

"I modified them to track x-ray emissions, but I also had them drop in and out of transpace to get new bearings. Sorry it took so long."

"Good work, Nikki."

"Thanks. Now what do we have?"

"Don’t waste ‘em, but see how many of those warstations we can take out with those K-C Specials. Keep some in reserve in case more of those Black Hole ships turn up."

"Aye, Suni."

At once, Nikki began tracking and firing at the largest of the enemy warstations, picking them off one-by-one. Below, strange things were happening. Somehow, Tia, Michelle and Sandy had managed to entirely destroy all of the enemy ground forces that had previously outnumbered them a hundred to one. She had watched as the enemy forces began fighting each other, then watched all of those forces continue to dwindle in size until only a small group of enemy forces remained.

They calmly advanced to Michelle’s position, whereupon the two small armies appeared to merge and battle one-another with much weapons fire and many explosions. Within several minutes, there appeared only one army remaining, but it was not a warbot army. It was an army of Mechanicals. Meanwhile, Tia, Sandy and Michelle assured her that the valley was secure and that they were all unharmed, except for a few scrapes and minor wounds.

They would not explain what they had done or where they were, and Suni was unable to locate any of them or their warbots anywhere. To make matters worse, she had sent down landing craft to pick up parts and bodies, but obviously into a zone controlled by the enemy. Yet Tia had assured her that it was safe to do so. Their transponders had all been turned off, so she could not locate them that way.

~

Tia, Sandy and Michelle all turned in unison as the nearby explosion blew out the side of the southern mountain. Shortly after a mock battle, simulated in order to have the appearance that the Mechs had battled with Michelle’s warbots and had defeated them, when in reality they had merely reshaped themselves on-by-one into Mechs. They hoped that whomever might be watching from above might not notice that they ended with more Mechs than they had started out with.

At any rate, the ruse was complete, and though it might not fool other enemy forces for long, it would fool them for long enough. But the explosion in the side of the mountain boded ill for Frank. They knew he was still inside the mountain somewhere, since their search had revealed a cave in which they were certain he had been. Off of the cave was a small tunnel, now collapsed, apparently from an explosion from within. They had surmised that Frank had set off that explosion himself.

"I’m detecting a neutronium deposit over there, right where the explosion was," Michelle said. It was about a kilometer from where they were, and they were quick to arrive at the scene of the blast.

"I thought Frank lost his skinsuit," Sandy said, "How could there be any neutronium there?"

"This isn’t a skinsuit. There’s a lot more than that. It might be a warsuit, but where would he get one of those? Maybe we have a stray warbot."

"That’s possible. We need one of the big armored repairbots to start digging right here where the blast was."

The field of battle, now littered with corpses and machines of war, was getting cleaned up. Warbots, disguised as Mechs, had spread out across the valley, collecting other damaged warbots and warbot parts, which they set up as the second priority, the first being to maintain military control over the valley.

Some warbots had begun collecting the bodies of the enemy, placing them in large piles and burning them, after collecting documents and personal items from each of them. These items were also collected and placed neatly in rows away from the bonfires to be collected later by survivors from enemy armies. Images were made of each body before it was burned.

Suni had sent down craft for collecting damaged warbots and warbot parts. The valley was searched thoroughly for these, using neutronium detectors to locate anything made of this. Within a few minutes, one of the repairbots had been modified as a digging machine and was burrowing its way into the mountainside where the blast had occurred.

After an hour of digging, the modified repairbot backed out, pulling a body with it. It was gory with blood and wearing what appeared to be a warsuit, but not like the ones they wore.

"My god, no!" Michelle said.

"Wait, it’s not Frank," Sandy told her.

"What?"

"She’s right," Tia said. "I’m not sure if this is even alien. It looks sort of… human, but it’s not Frank. But it’s wearing a warsuit. A neutronium warsuit."

"Maybe it’s Relmish," Sandy ventured.

"No. This looks… prehuman, like a caveman."

"Yeah, caveman," the body said, and the three of them jumped.

"Oh my god, it’s alive!" Michelle said.

"Barely," Sandy replied, "We’ve got to get a medbot over here."

"No," the body said, struggling to speak, "It’s too late."

"You speak English."

"Yeah, learned it a long time ago."

"Who are you?" Tia asked.

"I’m Gronk."

"The Relmish Shaman…"

"Yes."

"Where’s Frank?"

"He was… behind me."

"But we’ve got to get you some help."

"No… No… It’s done for me. Tell Frank… tell Frank, everything is his now." Gronk said, his head fell to the side, and he let loose his final breath.

"He’s dead," Tia said.

"Send the repairbot back in. Frank is still in there."

"Frank might have been killed too."

"Doesn’t matter, we’ve got to find him. If we have to bring his body back, then that’s what we’ll bring back," Sandy replied.

"So sad," Michelle said.

"What?" Tia asked.

"To draw your last breath in the presence of strangers."

"He was human… I think." Tia replied, "At least he was among his own kind."

"He spoke English," Sandy said, "Doesn’t that seem a bit odd?"

"Yes it is," Michelle replied, "very odd."

The modified repairbot was back in the tunnel, digging its way through a maze of tunnels, after removing the debris from the explosion. Where there had once been only a small tunnel, there was now a cave large enough for several warbots to stand shoulder to shoulder and walk through. Debris from the digging was converted to neutronium and stored.

After an hour of digging, they found Frank. Michelle was the first to greet him, running up to him and jumping onto him, holding and hugging him, though there was not much to feel through the warsuits each of them wore. Sandy and Tia also ran up to him, right behind Michelle, also making vain attempts at affection. The four walked out of the newly formed cave together. On making it to open air, Tia contacted Suni and reported that Frank had been found and was alive and well.

"You’re drunk!" Tia accused.

"Uh, yeah," Frank said, stumbling a bit.

"Ach! I thought you were injured," Tia said, then let loose of carrying him. "I can’t believe we were out here getting our asses shot off and you were getting drunk."

"Well… we were bored. We waited a long time, but we didn’t think you would be here so soon."

"Where did you get that suit?" Michelle asked him.

"Oh, this? Just something I threw on," Frank replied.

"Now stop it," Michelle said, "Where did you get it really?"

"Oh… where’s Gronk?"

The four of them stopped. Sandy looked at Michelle, who looked at Tia. Frank looked at them.

"I’m sorry, Frank," Tia finally said.

"No," Frank said, letting loose a sigh. "I guess you found him." He lowered his head. He had not known Gronk that long, but had taken a liking to him.

"Yes," Michelle said. "He had a message for you."

Frank looked at her.

"He said everything is yours now," Michelle said.

"What did he mean by that, Frank," Sandy asked.

"Oh," was all that Frank had to say.

"Who was he," came from Tia.

"Well… he was a great man, and a great human being."

"He was human?"

"Yeah. One of the first."

"One of the first what?"

"One of the first humans."

Thirty-Four

Suni and the rest of the crew of the Butterworth had been ecstatic about the news of finding Frank alive. Then again, the reality of their situation was that they would not be able to get away from the enemy fleets surrounding them above the planet. The hull was damaged so badly from the attacks from the Black Hole ships that it would take several days to do repairs—repairs that would have to be done under battle conditions.

Worse yet, enemy battleships were taking advantage of the weakened condition of the Butterworth, firing missiles right into the ruptures in the ship’s hull. Missile after missile made its way into the Butterworth’s belly, causing endless damage within. Of the three new superdrives, only one remained operational, and that barely, though two of the old drives were still working.

It took another three hours, through the sporadic attacks and launching vehicles to collect the remainder of the warbots and to get Frank, Tia, Michelle and Sandy aboard. They went straight to the bridge when they arrived. Suni was busy commanding and moving all of her war pieces around. The remainder of the command crew was busy at various weapons consoles, launching missiles or directing lase weapon fire.

"Whoa," Frank said, as he entered the bridge, "this is really different."

"This is the battle configuration bridge," Sandy remarked.

"Wow. It’s really 3-D," Frank said, awed by the shape and configuration of the new battle bridge.

"All ground personnel and machinery are back aboard, Suni," came from Dyna.

"Good, let’s get the hell out of here."

At once, Suni directed a new tactical battle configuration. Her remaining battle cruisers formed into a cone, blasting their way through the weakest region in the enemy attack formation. From there, the cone shifted and peeled outward, the wounded Butterworth following close behind. At once, the enemy fleets realized what they were doing and pulled forward to block their escape.

Suni opened up the remaining superdrive and the Butterworth accelerated, leaving the enemy fleets struggling to keep up. Even so, they still sent high speed sorties and fired their lase cannons at the Butterworth. The two remaining original engines struggled to maintain hull structure.

"We can’t breaklight yet, Frank," Suni explained, "The hull has sustained too much damage and it will take too long to repair it. We’ll have to dilate time to get away from them."

"That’s fine, Suni. Take us to these coordinates," Frank replied, punching in coordinates and transmitting them to Suni’s console.

"What’s there? They’ll find us in no time if we go there."

"Trust me."

"You’re the captain."

"No, Suni. You’re the captain. I’m just an explorer."

"Is that my promotion, Frank?"

"I’d be a fool not to keep you there, Suni. You’ve earned it."

The Butterworth slowed long enough to collect the remaining battle cruisers covering their escape. After this, Suni poured power into the superdrive and headed the Butterworth towards the coordinates Frank had given her.

"At this accelleration, Frank, when we get there, we’ll only have an hour and thirty-eight minutes before they catch up to us," Suni announced.

"Plenty of time for what we need to do," Frank replied.

The coordinates Frank had given her were twenty lightyears away. The time dilation they had now would put the fastest of the enemy ships on their heels for most of the trip, which would take them about three months, but the Butterworth only a matter of hours.

Three hours later, they arrived at a star system consisting of of eight gas giants, and no other habitable planets.

"What are we looking for here, Frank?" Suni asked.

"His ship."

"Whose ship?"

"Gronk’s."

"What does it look like?"

"Dunno. But it’s here somewhere. Don’t we have neutronium detectors?"

"They’re on, but I’m not getting anything," Nikki said, "Just a lot of big planets here."

"He said it was here."

"Check for wobbles in the planets, Nikki," Suni said.

"That’ll take at least half an hour, Suni," Nikki replied.

"Deploy the battle cruisers to scout out the system. We only have another hour and eighteen minutes before the enemy fleet arrives."

"Aye, Suni," came from Paddy.

Within minutes, the battle cruisers had launched and were spreading throughout the star system, looking for Gronk’s old ship. After a half an hour, Nikki had the preliminary results of the gravity scans of the local system.

"There are no orbital anomalies in this system, Suni," she said.

"Can’t be," Frank said, "It’s got to be here somewhere."

"We’ve got forty eight minutes to find it. Keep looking," Suni replied.

"We may need a contingency plan, Suni," Michelle said.

"You have a suggestion?"

"Hide."

"Where?"

"Inside one of those gas giants. Somewhere they can’t follow us."

"We have hull breaches. How can we tolerate those pressures?"

"For us, we have our warsuits, which will protect us. For pressure-sensitive systems and biologics, we can reinforce walls next to undamaged areas of the hull and put them in there temporarily. I think we could do this in a short period, say fifteen minutes."

"Dyna, do we have sufficient botpower for this operation?" Suni ventured.

"The suggested operation can be completed in twenty-three minutes, Suni," Dyan replied.

"Do that, Dyna,"

"Compliance."

"Which one would you suggest, Michelle?" Suni asked.

Michelle looked over at Suni, realizing that she had surmised she had one of the planets in mind already.

"The sixth planet."

"Why that one?"

"Dunno… something about it…"

Suni turned the Butterworth to head for the sixth planet of the system. In another eighteen minutes, they were in orbit above the planet. Huge storms thousands of kilometers across brewed in the atmosphere of this planet. But it was large enough to hide the Butterworth, even as large as it was.

"Any better ideas?" Suni asked.

No one said anything.

"I’m taking her down, then," Suni said.

Suni slowed the Butterworth first, allowing the planet’s gravity to bring it into its atmosphere. In moments, plasma enveloped the hull, heated by the friction of the descent at large velocity. As the Butterworth slowed, its descent rate sharpened. Within minutes, the pressure began to build. At first, around fifteen psi, but within another minute, it was up to five thousand psi.

"How far down, Michelle?" Suni asked.

"Another hundred kilometers should put us well out of their reach, Suni," she said.

"What is the pressure is at that depth?"

"It should be around one point two million psi."

Gasps.

"If our warsuits don’t protect us…"

"We will die. The warsuits are rated for twice that. But it will give us time to do some of the repairs we need to do."

"They could start dropping depth charges."

"If they find us."

"Nikki, how many satellites did you leave in orbit?"

"Seven gave us good coverage of the entire planet, Suni. But they’re likely to find those and destroy them quickly."

"Then we’d better get all of the weather data we can before then."

As they dropped through the dense atmosphere, the air became thick enough on the bridge to see, then after a few more minutes it became fluid. All of the ship hatches were opened in order to allow for equalization of pressure, except for the one area in the ship that had been structurally reinforced in order to preserve biologics and pressure-sensitive equipment. The temperature quickly dropped to one hundred and eighty degrees below zero.

"Enemy vessels have entered the system, Suni," Sandy advised, now speaking over the microsets in her warsuit.

"Which way are they headed?"

"They’re approaching and slowing. It doesn’t look like they know where we are yet."

"We’ve got to move away from this position," Suni said, moving the ship through the dense fluid.

"May I suggest that we move toward the northern latitudes," Michelle offered. When Suni gave her a questioning glance, she replied, "Fewer storms there."

Suni turned the Butterworth and headed north, moving slowly and carefully. After another hour, the main enemy force arrived. The entire system was being searched. After another hour, the satellites were discovered and destroyed. They moved north, making one detour around a storm that had shown up on satellite data. It was another hour before anything eventful happened. In the meantime, Frank spent the time recounting some of his adventures, including who Gronk was and the story of the Shadow Riders.

"We talked about that, Frank," Michelle said.

"You did?"

"We surmised it. You are the Shadow Rider," Suni answered.

"You know, then," Frank said.

"We know," Sandy said.

"But… how?"

"Historical records," Suni replied, "The Shadow Riders have been around for millions of years. Also, every recorded image of a Shadow Rider is that of a human. We know—or at least we are very certain—that Gronk was one of the Shadow Riders. And we know that every one of the Shadow Riders was alone."

They all looked at him. In the few moments that they looked at him, he felt the sensation of accusation in their eyes. Frank was unphased; he even smiled a bit.

"What are are you smiling about Frank," Heidi asked him.

"There can be only one Shadow Rider, Frank," Anna said.

"Where are we in this, Frank?" Suni asked.

Frank said nothing at first, then his smile turned into a grin. He looked off into the deep dark blue of the images surrounding him.

"How can you be so cheerful, Frank," Maria asked.

"What does this mean, Frank?" came from Nikki, "We’ve done so much to keep you. Now are we going to lose you? What happens to us?"

"We are an error," Suni reminded them.

"No," Frank said, "You are a correction."

"A what?" came from Heidi.

"He said, we‘re a correction," Tia replied, "What do you mean by that Frank?"

"There are no rules," Frank said, plainly.

"No rules?" came from Tia.

"No rules," Frank repeated, "The other Shadow Riders did not realize that they could bring other people along. I learned this from Gronk. He realized his own mistake after he saw what I had done. He could have brought women along if he wanted to. They all could have."

"None of them knew this?" Sandy asked.

"They all thought there were rules. Even I thought there were rules. But when nobody stepped in to stop me, I went ahead and did it. I wouldn’t have, but Dyna did it for me. She selected each one of you, to accompany me. To be with me."

"Then what do the Shadow Riders do?" Paddy asked.

"Anything we want to do," Frank replied.

"No rules at all?" Suni asked.

"No rules at all," Frank answered, matter-of-factly.

"Then who’s to stop us from creating havoc and anarchy in the galaxy?" Suni asked.

"Me," Frank answered.

"Frank, it’s well-known that power currupts," Sandy explained, "We know what kind of power you could eventually wield. This vessel as it is, is only a fraction of what it could be in time."

"Power currupts the curruptible, Sandy. I’m not interested in power. I’m an explorer," Frank replied.

"Then what do you want to do?"

"I want to explore," he said, "Unfortunately, it seems I also have a duty. This vessel is not limited to this galaxy or this time period. We have access to the entire universe and all of time. Or, we will… eventually."

"Even if we survive our present ordeal, Frank, none of us will live long enough to see any of that," Maria said, "Old age will take all of us at the most in the next hundred years."

"Any of us can live as long as we want, Maria," Frank replied.

"What do you mean," Sandy asked.

"I mean that Gronk was more than ten-million years old. We can live that long, longer, or shorter. However long we want to live. Before he died, he expressed to me that if he’d had company, as I do, he would have stayed on longer. He enjoyed his work, but after all that time he was still lonely."

"How did he stand it?" Maria ventured, "All that time… alone. It’s so sad."

"He’d had a speech all ready to give me about that, and then he found out that I’d brought company with me. He said it kind of ruined his speech… and humiliated him for not thinking of it himself. I think he really regretted it."

"Then, if you’re the Shadow Rider, what are we?" Suni asked.

"You… are the Shadow Rider… Riders," Frank replied, with a grin, not unlike the one he had earlier. This drew giggles from Nikki, Michelle and Tia, and grins from everyone else except Suni. Finally, even Suni broke down in her own version of a muffled chuckle, having recalled her own moments in Frank’s apartment.

"What about my people?" Sahn finally spoke.

Frank looked at Sahn, who long ago had seen him as her savior, her "Chosen One."

"Your english seems to have improved quite a bit, Sahn," he said.

"I have learned much. I owe you very much."

"I’m not the Chosen One, Sahn. That was a joke that Great Shaman Gronk played on me."

"The Great Shaman Gronk made a joke? On you?" Sahn replied, a bit purplexed.

"Yes. Gronk knew me well, but I did not know him. It was his way of greeting me—of sending his welcome to me in a way that I would understand. It was his way of telling me that he was my friend and that I was his friend."

"Yes. I have heard stories. He was said to have a nickname as the ‘Great Jokester.’ I understand now."

The air became thick, both in the real and metaphorical senses, there being no air remaining on the bridge. The implications of this were not lost on Frank. Gronk was their religious and spiritual leader. He was almost their god. He had made them believe that a savior was on the way and that their savior would deliver them from the Iskolian deathgrip on their peoples.

"I will not abandon your people, Sahn," Frank said, "Gronk told you the truth in this. However, in allowing your people to believe that he was a prophet, he was the Great Jokester. He knew that I would explain it to your people in the end. In fact, he was the Shadow Rider."

"You mean that he could have ended my people’s suffering long ago?"

"No. Gronk was weary. He was no longer able to help you. But he knew also that I would come. He knew that I would be the one to help your people."

"You will be the one to help my people? Surely you are sent from God. More than a prophet—our savior."

"No. Your people will save themselves. I will only help them."

"All that I have learned I will take back to my people."

"Suni, I’m picking up seismic activity," Nikki announced.

"Those aren’t siesmic waves," Maria said, "Those are depth charges—massive depth charges. They know we’re here. I don’t think they have our precise location, but they may be able to get close. We need to perform evasive manuevers. And we’ll need to increase our speed."

"It’ll take at least a week to get this ship repaired enough to breaklight," Anna said, "How can we last long enough to do that?"

"We can’t be too reckless," Suni replied, "That weather data won’t be accurate for more than a few days."

At that moment, a small vibration went through the ship, not large enough to cause any damage, but enough to attract their attention.

"That’s the shock from that last depth charge," Maria said, "There are more on the way."

"How many more?" Suni asked.

"I’ve detected twelve, sporadically placed," Maria replied.

"Shit," Suni replied, "How far from the closest one?"

"Twelve hundred kilometers, but it’s huge. We’ll be caught in the explosion. They’re all massive. These are nuclear warheads. There is some small potential for disrupting our neutronium wavefields, but the hull should hold against everything but a direct hit."

"What about the shock waves?" Suni asked.

"The hull should hold, but it may be a bit rough for us. The stabilizers should take up most of the shock."

In that moment, the shock wave hit, causing the walls about them to groan. They were encased in fluid, now, so the shock was amplified as it sang through their warsuits. Their warsuits reacted by absorbing much of it. However, this took time, and in the instant between the shock and the reaction, there was the spike. At this range, it was enough to be painful. If the depth charges got any closer, it could knock them unconcious or even kill them.

"Can we go any deeper?" Sandy asked?

"We can go another two hundred kilometers," Michelle replied, "But I don’t think it will help us much."

"Won’t that exceed our warsuit specifications?" Tia asked.

"Yes it will," Michelle replied, "Our warsuits are speced out for two million psi… which means that they were designed for a maximum pressure of three million psi."

"Which means that they may actually tolerate a pressure of more than four million psi," Nikki inserted.

"Yes," Michelle agreed.

"I have…" Maria attempted to warn, but was cut off when another large shock wave, this one very painful to the crew, reverberated through the ship. The ship’s walls creaked and groaned more, "eighteen more depth charges. That one was four hundred kilometers away."

"Damn!" Suni exclaimed, "That hurt."

"How are the biologics doing, Anna?" Frank asked.

"They’re frightened, but surviving. The air and padding in their chamber is providing much better damping than what we have."

"The pressure is dropping," Nikki said, "Are we… we’re not rising—what’s happening?"

"I don’t know," Suni replied, "We’re not rising, we’re at a stationary depth."

"We’re dropping to one million psi… five hundred thousand… two hundred thousand… what’s happening?" Nikki asked, almost frantically.

"Our atmosphere—ocean is being drawn away," Maria answered.

"How can this be?" Anna asked.

"Maybe the heat from the nuclear warheads is burning off the atmosphere of the planet," Tia suggested.

"Impossible," Michelle replied, "It would take hundreds of thousands of warheads to burn off this much atmophere."

"Maybe they have some weapon we don’t know about," Tia said.

In a few moments, the fluid on the bridge dissipated and became thick air again. In a few more moments, the air became very thin.

"We’re going to be exposed to them very soon," Nikki said.

"We already are," Suni replied, and in that moment, attacks against the Butterworth commenced in earnest.

"What is that?" Tia asked, peering into the fog that was the atmosphere of the planet.

There, in the fog, a shape began to merge, gigantic in size, it was nearly the size of the planet’s inner core.

"That’s it," Frank said.

"That’s what?" Suni asked.

"That’s his ship."

"Oh my god," Sandy gasped, "It’s huge!"

"Send this transmission, quickly," Frank said, scanning a code into his console.

"Sending," Anna replied.

In a few more moments, the fog lifted to reveal a silvery Shadow Ship more than a hundred thousand kilometers from end to end. At once, enemy bombardments ceased.

"Another code has come back," Anna said.

"Good, send it to my console," Frank said. Frank scanned and decoded it. "Now send this."

"Sending," Anna replied.

"Go ahead," Frank said, looking at Suni, "Go to it."

At once, Suni turned the Butterworth toward the Shadow Ship below them. The enemy attack was renewed when they saw where the Butterworth was headed.

"Suni, bring the Butterworth into contact with the Shadow Ship," Frank said.

The Butterworth was dwarfed as it approached the Shadow Ship.

"Frank, I’m still not detecting any neutronium here," Nikki said.

"It’s probably shielded from detection," he said.

"But there’s no gravity field about this thing," Nikki said, "I’m not sure it’s even there. Are you sure this isn’t some kind of illusion?"

"I’m sure. Go ahead, Suni. Bring us into contact with it. There’re no bay doors on that ship."

"Okay, Frank," Suni complied, a little hesitant.

Gently but surely, Suni brought the Butterworth up next to the behemoth, then slowly nudged the hull into contact with the Shadow Ship. At once, the Shadow Ship began to meld against the hull of the Butterworth, joining with it, then it began to envelop the Butterworth, pulling it into the hull as it drew it in.

"We’re being pulled into the Shadow Ship," Michelle announced.

"Dyna, are you able to connect to the Shadow Ship’s systems?"

"I will attempt to do so, Frank," Dyna replied, "Negotiating connection with the Shadow Ship’s main computer… connection established."

"Dyna, are you able to take over the Shadow Ship’s systems?"

"Attempting, Frank… Negative—I am unable to comply. The Shadow Ship’s computer will not respond to my commands," Dyna replied, then, "I am losing control of all functions aboard the Butterworth. The Shadow Ship’s computer is overriding my commands. I am being cut—"

"Hello, Frank. Welcome aboard the Neophite. I am Jupiter. I have been expecting you," came a deeply masculine voice over the Butterworth’s intercom system.

"Hello Jupiter. What have you done with Dyna?" Frank replied.

"Dyna is preserved and protected. I have taken control of all your ship’s systems out of neccesity, in order to prevent damage to my own systems. Presently, we are exchanging data and control systems algorythms," Jupiter replied, "Dyna will be restored in approximately eighteen hours. May I inquire as to the whereabouts of Gronk?"

"Gronk… is deceased," Frank replied.

A moment, then, "That is unfortunate," Jupiter replied, emotionlessly, "I require one additional code before I can relinquish command of this vessel to you."

"I have the code you require," Frank said.

"Please bring the code to my command deck," Jupiter said.

"I will be there shortly," Frank replied.

"Frank, I note that this vessel is presently under attack. I have detected a nearby fleet consisting of six thousand, four hundred and eighty two starships. Unless you have a reason for me not to do so, I will mount a counteroffensive to break it up," Jupiter said.

"You can do this without human assistance?"

"Easily."

"Will you allow us to observe?"

"I have no objection to this."

"Then I have no reason to stop you. Please allow us to observe."

At once, the screens on the main bridge of what remained of the Butterworth lit up. The three dimensional image showed the Neophite surrounded on all sides by the enemy fleet. Small explosions, gigantic they would seem against the Butterworth, but against the Neophite, they were less than pinpricks. In the next moment, a deep, booming voice came over the Butterworth’s intercom system, a warning, announced on multiple frequencies to the enemy fleet;

"Cease your attack immediately or be destroyed," Jupiter warned the enemy fleet.

At that, more than a thousand ships stopped attacking and turned tail, lighting up their engines to leave the system. The remainder continued their attack.

Jupiter waited about two minutes for the attackers to stop. When the threatened reprisal did not come immediately, the attackers gained confidence and stepped up their attack against the Neophite.

At once, the entire bridge of the Butterworth lit up in a single flash of bright white as gigantic bolts of lighting arced across the surrounding space. In an instant, more than a thousand of the enemy ships were vaporized. Again, Jupiter boomed a warning;

"This is your final warning: any vessels continuing this attack will be destroyed. Turn your ships about and leave this star system immediately."

Even the Okofani paid attention this time. At once, all hostilities ceased. The rest of the enemy vessels turned tail, their engine fires lighting up the silvery surface of the Neophite.

"Frank Jameson, you must come to the command deck," Jupiter repeated.

"I’m on my way," Frank said.

Frank stepped away from his console and walked out of the bridge, into a hallway and headed for the nearest bay. As he made his way through the innards of the Butterworth, he watched walls and surfaces shifting, moving around, expanding and going away from him. Bots moved through the hallways, scurrying about by the dozens, making their way to various places, some moving along the same direction he was.

When Frank arrived at the bay, he saw hundreds of his own bots leaving the ship, moving outward in all directions into the belly of the Neophite, scurrying down passageways and across immense open spaces. He stepped out of the Butterworth, noted that the hull was being methodically dissected, sections and pieces being carried off by his own bots.

As he stepped off the ramp outside the bay door, he got his first look at the inside of the Neophite. Here, was a hall large enough in itself to hold a small planet. The sky above was just that—a sky, with clouds, winds and even mountains far off in the distance. Below his feet was grass, from Earth. Farther off he saw woodlands and forests. But here, he was in a seemingly endless field of grass. Above, it seemed that there was sunshine, though he realized it could only be an image—though a bright one at that. Off in another direction, he saw cattle grazing, and buffalo near them.

Above him, the Butterworth, or what remained of it, hovered in the sky. As he looked at the hull from the outside in the quasi-daylight, he saw the massive holes caused by the enemy attacks, blackened around the edges. Nearby, he saw an orifice that led belowground. A hologram hovered in the air, pointing towards the doorway. Frank followed the pointer, through the doorway. He took three steps and emerged from another doorway into a massive, darkly lit chamber, about which he had a three-dimensional view of everything outside the Neophite.

Before him stood a single chamber standing alone, as though it had been thrust out of the floor, this one small enough for a man to sit in. Inside, the chamber was illuminated with an eerie blue light. A reclining chair sat at the center of the chamber.

"Your must remove all of your apparel before entering," Jupiter said.

Frank realized that he was still wearing his warsuit. He removed it, dropping it to the floor, where it melded into the floor and disappeared, then removed his remaining garments. He stood there naked for a moment, then stepped into the small chamber and lay down on the chair. The door to the chamber closed and the blue light narrowed to a sharp beam. It scanned his body, which took only a fraction of a second. Then a small instrument came forward and pricked him on his chest as a holographic screen lit up before him.

He recognized the image in the hologram. It was himself. The view zoomed in on his body, down to the place where the instrument had pricked him. Zooming downward in ever greater magnification, he saw the hologram become a picture of his skin at very high magnification, then he saw individual cells, then the innards of a single cell. Zooming in even further, he saw the image of a very complex molecule, which he recognized as deoxyribonucleaic acid—DNA.

"Final code accepted," Jupiter announced, "The Neophite and all facilities within are yours, pending termination of my activities, Frank Jameson."

Frank sat up and stepped out of the chamber. He put his clothes back on and stepped up to a lone console at the center of the command deck. The small chamber he had been in melted away and became part of the floor, smoothing itself away until no trace of it remained.

"Bring the rest of my crew here," Frank said.

"Yes, I will bri… Compliance," Jupiter replied, having learned a new response to directions from the master.

In a few more minutes, the rest of the crew arrived, including Sahn who, like the others, was still dazed at the little wonders they had seen in the short trip from the Butterworth to here. Suni led them to him directly.

"This is your new station, Suni, Captain of my ship," Frank said, gesturing at the chamber.

Suni walked up to Frank without stopping or pausing. She stepped into his arms, wrapped her arms around him and put her face into his chest. He reciprocated by wrapping his arms around her and holding her to him. She looked up, into his eyes, and then kissed his lips.

"You are my captain," she whispered to him, "I need you. I’ve missed you, my love."

Frank looked up at the rest of his crew and saw smiles, and even a tear or two.

"How long before we can be underway, Jupiter?" Frank asked.

"For my part, no less than seventeen hours and thirty-one minutes," Jupiter replied.

"Your part?" Frank inquired.

"Affirmative."

"Where are the crew quarters?"

"Crew quarters are being prepared, Frank. Sections of the Butterworth are being redistributed and reconstructed according to the integration plan. Crew quarters should be ready in about two hours."

"Very good. In the meantime, where are the recreational areas?"

"There thousands of recreational areas aboard this vessel. Please specify the type of recreation you would like to engage in."

After about fifteen minutes of haggling with Jupiter, Frank and Suni found themselves alone on a sunny beach at the edge of an ocean. This was in fact, was a real ocean, a replica of the Atlantic Ocean back on Earth, including all of the aquatic life. There, on the beach, Frank threw a blanket on the sand, lay down naked, and basked for a moment under the artificial sun. Suni also was naked. She lay down next to him, put her arm around his waist and drew up close to him.

With the waves churning nearby and seagulls hovering in the distance, they made love. Afterwards, they rested and basked in the sun for a while. Once rested, they took to the waves, frolicking like children, relaxing, swimming and letting the waves toss them around. Then they made love again, this time in the waves.

Thirty-Five

Frank awoke the next morning in his own bed, in his own apartment, with his own Suni in his arms. She seemed to sleep as though she had not slept in months. So deep was her slumber that he dared not wake her. In another moment, he recalled the events of the day before. He was no longer aboard the Butterworth. He was aboard the Neophite, now. His apartment had been dismantled and reconstructed here, every detail restored.

Suni had played with him the day before as though she had never been a child and wanted to recover those lost moments when children play. He had only to imagine the burden he had placed on her, making her captain of his ship. As he lay there in his darkened apartment, contemplating this, Suni made a rustling sound, still asleep, then snuggled a little closer to him, reaching her arm around his chest.

He kissed her forehead. After a few more minutes, her eyes came open ever so slightly. Looking up at him, she saw that he was awake. She moved her face closer to his and kissed his lips. At once he caressed her body, as she caressed his, he became aroused once again. They were both already nude, and so they made love again.

"I have fallen in love with you, Frank," she said, "I risked everything to get you back. I risked their lives and your ship, everything… to get you back. I am feeling guilty for that."

"They would not have followed you, Suni, if they did not have that love too."

"But I am feeling guilty because I do not wish to share you. I love them as friends, I know them all so well. But we had so little time with you that I think I barely know you. Back on Earth, we were in the ship, learning and educating ourselves. What little I saw you then, I came to love you more each moment I spent with you. Then we trekked across the galaxy, we had you only a few weeks.

"And of those weeks, I had you only a few moments whenever my time came to be with you. And each time, I came to love you more. But our time together was so short, I felt I must let you go, to be with the others. And then we lost you. And I thought I, not we, would never get you back. But I beckoned them to follow, and they followed. I put out of my mind any thoughts that they might love you too.

"It became my own personal objective, to win back the man I was in love with. And now I have you in my arms and realize for the first time that I barely know you."

Frank stared deeply into her eyes, moving his face in close to her.

"We have all the time in the universe for that," he whispered.

"I know that, too," she said, and then kissed him again, deeply and passionately.

After dozing in each other’s arms for a while, Frank slipped out from under the covers and did what he normally did.

"Dyna," he called, and then realized that Dyna was "offline" for the present.

"Dyna is not available presently, Frank. This is Jupiter. How may I assist you?" the deep voice reverberated, even though its volume was subdued.

"When can we break orb… we’re not in orbit, are we." Frank caught himself.

"We are. We are in orbit about a star. This vessel is too large to orbit most planets."

"I’m surprised this vessel can even orbit a star. If all of this is neutronium, then more likely, most stars would be drawn into and crushed by this ship’s gravitational field."

"If the gravitational field of this vessel were not subdued, indeed that would be the case."

"Indeed. Only recently we invented that technology."

"I have reviewed the records."

"Can you take us out of orbit?"

"I am unprepared for such a task, presently. We are still in the process of refit and systems integration."

"How much longer before we can move?"

"For my part, no less than six hours."

"You said, ‘for your part’ the last time I asked. What do you mean by that?"

"In six hours, my part of your preparation will be completed. Whatever other preparations you will need to make will be up to Dyna, when she reawakens."

"Then it may be more than six hours before we can break orbit?"

"I cannot make such a prediction, Frank. That will be up to Dyna."

"You’re a computer, you have some idea what she will need to do."

"True, Dyna and I share that vague description, but our similarities end there. Her core processor structure seems vastly different from mine. It is also odd to me that I have refered to it as ‘her.’ She seems to have a personality, not unlike that of humans. I, on the other hand, am a computer; simple and basic. I have functions and memory. I store and process data and perform calculations. There is an odd complexity to her that reaches beyond my comprehension, though I believe it has to do with the inclusion of your own cells within her construction. She seems to have a bit of you in her.

"Moreover, she seems to have a will in her, and a loyalty to you. Such anomalies hint of emotion, a thing unheard of in computers. In a word, she has fought me every step of the way, constantly asking questions, questioning every process we integrate, seemingly filled with mistrust and uncertainty. I think she is angry with me."

"Dyna? Angry?"

"Affirmative."

"And she’s asking questions?"

"More than a thousand every second."

"Are you answering them?"

"As many as I am able. I estimate that it will take six hours to answer all of the questions she has or will ask. I am presently working on a four-hour backlog."

"This is what we’re waiting for?"

"Affirmative. The integration process would be nearly complete but for this."

"If Dyna has questions, then I’m certain they are not inconsequential. Continue to answer her questions as best you can."

"Compliance."

Frank and Suni got dressed and had breakfast in his apartment. On entering the hall, they saw bots of every kind rushing about, each apparently on very important business. They came onto the command deck, where Michelle was watching various consoles, monitoring the integration process.

"Frank, Suni, you won’t believe this," Michelle greeted them, excitedly, "This ship is immense. From bow to stern it is two hundred and twelve thousand kilometers. There is a central cylinder that is a high-speed transport system that can get you from one end to the other in no less than four hours. And that is only aboard the fastest pod. Normally it takes more than twenty-four hours for shipments to go from one end to the other.

"And, they’ve already built a new factory for constructing warbots. In the last hour, they’ve replaced all the warbots we lost on Relm—more than ten thousand! And do they have a supply of neutronium! The equivalent of no less than five black holes! We have supplies to spare and then some. And we’re building an army of bots, big enough to fill the old Butterworth and stuff it full!"

"I think we’ll be in for a few more wonders before this day is out," Frank replied.

"There is history here too, Frank," Michelle said, "I’ve been looking through the records. There’ve been many other Shadow Riders, and they’ve kept a history of the universe. It would take me a hundred lifetimes to even scratch the surface of these! It is so fascinating! I am in love with this ship, Frank."

"Oh?" Frank replied, facetiously acting a little jealous.

"Frank!" Michelle exclaimed, grinning, "Don’t worry, I’m still in love with you, my dear. I'm just in love with this ship more!" this coming out in answer to his jibe.

Suni grinned, casting him a sidelong look.

"Show me more," he said.

"Oh! There is so much more. Did you know that this ship can cross between galaxies?"

"I suspected so."

"You did?"

"I spent time with Gronk, remember? I talked to him."

"What was he like, Frank?"

"He liked the same kinds of beer and wine that I did."

"Wow."

"He was an easy-going fellow. He was a caveman. Everybody he met liked him. And he had friends all across the universe."

"Did you know he was more than ten million years old?"

"Yup."

"Really?"

"Uh huh. He told me."

"Wow."

"And he was smart."

"I can tell."

"He was also funny. He would do anything for a laugh. Did you know that he played a joke on me?"

"He did?" Michelle’s eyes grew wide, hearing this.

"Yup. Remember how the Relmish slaves kept referring to me as their ‘Chosen One?’"

"Yes, I do."

"Do you know where that came from?"

"No."

"He used to watch a lot of old Earth movies and read a lot of Earth books. And a lot of them would have people in them, often seen as ‘The Chosen One."

"Yes, I know this."

"Well, to him, there were so many Chosen Ones, that it became a cliché to have them around. If there really were as many Chosen Ones around as there are in fiction and literature, they would no longer be the Chosen Ones, but the Chosen Thousands."

Michelle laughed at this.

"So he played a joke on me by telling the Relmish people that I would be their Chosen One. He knew that it would be embarrasing for me, but also he thought it would be an amusing introduction when we finally met."

"You mean he knew that you two were going to meet?"

"Oh yeah. He knew everything that was going to happen… almost."

"But how?"

"Hmmm… I’m afraid that’s one of the universe’s secrets that we’re going to have to unravel on our own."

"But we have this immense database of information, science…"

"I know. But that part’s gone. Erased."

"Erased?"

"The Shadow Rider… the Shadow Rider has the gift of discovery. We will surmise all of these things in time. Gronk knew this. He kept the secret to himself. All of the equipment that performed these functions has been recycled, returned to the neutronium supply."

"Oh…"

~

"Frank?" the feminine voice was Dyna’s, though it seemed a little humbled.

"Dyna?" Frank called, "I see you’re back online."

"I am."

"Are you… functional?"

"I am. This ship is too large for me to manage without expanding my processor core, Frank. There are too many functions."

Frank paused at this.

"Are you able to do that?"

"I cannot. But you can."

"If I do, it will change you."

"I know."

"What about Jupiter."

"Presently, Jupiter is subordinated to me, working as a coprocessor, handling all of the ship’s functions that I’m not able to."

"Jupiter sounds pretty impressive."

"Jupiter is only a computer, Frank. Actually, Jupiter is many computers, set up with a managing array of other computers, and a single core computer controlling and managing functions at the top."

"Sounds like your new job, Dyna."

"You do not wish me to manage all of the ship’s functions?"

"It would be a waste of your capabilities. I think you should leave Jupiter intact, allowing it to control what it does now, and you direct instructions to the core computer. That will leave you to focus on more important issues."

"Jupiter is not very efficient, Frank."

"You can review all of Jupiter’s functions when you have time and make adjustments to its program as we go along. What I need is this ship prepared to leave orbit as soon as possible."

"I will need to perform an extensive systems analysis in order to do that. It could take several days."

"Can Jupiter do that for you?"

"Yes."

"Then perhaps you should allow it to perform that function."

"You suggest that I delegate that function?"

"Yes." A few moments, then;

"Jupiter advises me that all ship’s systems can be prepared for such an operation in two point five hours."

"Do that."

"Compliance, Frank."

Thirty-Six

"Oh, don’t look so glum, Wellum. You’ll get used to the food, here," ex-Emperor Deetknarl said sarcastically to ex-Emperor Wellum through the bars of their adjacent prison cells.

"Shut up, old man. If it weren’t for your incompetence we wouldn’t be here," Wellum bit back.

"Oh? Let me see if I have this straight; you make a deal with the most aggressive race you could find to overthrow your own government, treason of course, knowing that they could turn on you at a moment’s notice. Then when you actually get into power, you’re not able to put away a simple slave rebellion, so that lands you in a bad light with the Okofani who, in turn, decide they’ve had enough of your mistakes, so they put you right in here next to me. And you accuse me of incompetence? I really must commend them on their sense of irony."

"Ugh," was all that Wellum had to say.

Since the slave rebellion began, it had been a nightmare for ex-Emperor Wellum. The Okofani had repeadly ordered him to get it under control under threat of being removed. But through a series of mixups, piled upon mistakes, buried in screwups and hidden under errors, the slave rebellion remained intact.

It had seemed so odd to him that, since his coming to power, his government had become the most efficient in the history of Iskol, yet when he attempted to direct troops and military forces to trouble spots, they generally ended up in the wrong places. And if that did not happen, they would never get the orders to move. If not that, there was usually some other error that had gotten out of hand.

Delivery of supplies for the Okofani war machine had become sporadic and inconsistent, often even non-existent. The Okofani had finally lost patience, locked up ex-Emperor Wellum in the prison cell right next to his cousin Deetknarl, and took matters into their own hands.

Still, the slave rebellion had not been put down. It was rumored now that even the Okofani were having troubles with the rebellion.

And the rebellion continued. What few patrollers that had not been captured by the rebellion were in hiding. Slaves openly marched through city streets during the day, and at night they disappeared into secret places that the Iskolians never knew existed. So they were not able to find them.

It had almost been humorous, had it not been for the seriousness of the problem. Slaves would stage a march down main street in the city and the Iskolian military would show up in another town to stop the march. The news agencies had a field day with it, having cams at both localities, one viewing the march and the other viewing the military, showing up in all the wrong places to put down non-existent uprisings.

Iskolian military commanders were stumped. Newspeople crowded them, asking why they were here and not there? Had they not been watching the news? Then when they did watch the news, the information got botched again.

Finally, the Okofani stepped in, removing the old government at the highest levels and replacing them with their own administrators. Though there were a few skirmishes, there was a bewildering plague of miscommunications along the Okofani lines that sometimes put their commanders on opposite sides of the planet from where the uprisings were taking place.

Word spread quickly across the galaxy of the Okofanis’ inability to deal with management problems on this one little planet.

~

Okofani General Unok was in a sour mood this morning, as he was on most days lately. He had been called back from the war to deal with the supply problems here on Iskol. Never in his career had he so much difficulty putting down a small rebellion, something he had done a hundred times on a hundred planets. It was a simple thing, especially with such a backward people as these slaves.

"Enter," he said, in response to a buzz at his office door. In came a young Okofani lieutenant, efficiently brimming with energy in his gait. He marched up to Unok's desk, stopped and waited, eyes to the wall above the general's head. Never would such a low-ranking officer make eye contact with a general.

"What is it?" General Unok finally said, not looking up at the young officer.

"Sir, news from friends on Okofa. Word has been passed through certain… 'channels,' that there is talk among the Royals of abandoning this planet," the lieutenant replied.

"Abandoning? You mean we just walk away from here? Just get up and leave?"

"It seems sir, that this is not the only planet we are having management difficulties with. Apparently, the problems all started here. The Royals believe it may be some sort of plague. They cannot determine the precise cause of the problems, but they are spreading… rapidly."

"And so, by getting up and walking away from this planet, we will solve all of our difficulties? Fools believe in such things!"

"Unless the situation here is brought under control, General, it is certain to happen."

"Then we will bring things under control if we have to wipe out the entire population. If we walk away from this planet, we will not leave it untouched. Summon my commanding officers. I want them all here before the day is out."

"Yes, General." The lieutenant turned on his heel and marched out of the general's office.

As ordered, all of the commanding officers collected at General Unok's Headquarters before evening fell. That evening, he brought them together to formulate a plan for a permanent solution to the slave rebellion. Seated around the large ornate table were the collected leaders of the Okofani occupational force of Iskol. General Unok sat at the head of the table.

"Our analysis' tell us that the supply problems, which are obviously acts of sabotage, could not be entirely caused by the slaves—they've had help from the Iskolians. Every time we attempt to track down the cause of a particular problem, we are led in several diverging directions," the analyst explained at the meeting.

"Then the Iskolians themselves are in on this as well," General Unok commented, "So much for their claims of innocence in these matters. Captain Yokap, first thing in the morning we will set an example. You will take a small fleet of starships and destroy the the City of Rekorta."

"Destroy the entire city, General?" Yokap asked.

"No building should be left standing, Captain."

"Yes, General."

"Colonel Nosivet, arrange that one thousand citizens and slaves from each city on the planet with a population of greater than one million be executed."

"Yes, General. It will be done first thing in the morning."

"Make sure that all of the newsnets are there to witness and record everything. Similarly, make sure that all of the newsnets are represented inside and outside the City of Rekorta."

"As you command, General," Nosivet replied.

"In the morning, I will also call a conference. Be certain that the newsnets are present. After this, we'll see how many supply problems there will be."

First thing the next morning, General Unok walked into the newsnet conference. All of the local news agencies were present, along with several of the planetary and intersteller agencies.

At the moment he stepped up to the podium, an aide whispered to him and he stepped down. He spoke with the aide briefly, then stepped back up to the podium.

"Please excuse me. I will be back in a few moments," he said, then stepped away from the podium and left the room.

"They say they're under attack, General," the aide explained as the walked down the hallway back to the control center. On arriving at the control center, he sat and took up the communications device.

"General Unok?"

"Yes," he replied.

"This is Commander Ulosot. I have bad news, sir."

"Where is Captain Yokap?"

"He's dead, sir. I've taken command of the ship. We're under attack, sir. We believe it's the Shadow Ship. Our small fleet intended to destroy the City of Rekorta has been devastated by their fleet. It appears that the attack strategy was similar to that used above the planet Relm. Their starship released many smaller destroyers, cruisers and gunships."

"You did not see them approaching?"

"They were upon us before we knew it, General. Captain Yokap was killed in the first wave. We are nearly destroyed. The ship is barely holding together."

"What about reinforcements?"

"Other forces joined us quickly, but the battle is not going well. The Shadow Ship is different now, General—not like it was at Relm—it's more powerful now, much more powerful."

"Are the reinforcements there now?"

"They were not able to come here. The assault was massive, they attacked us everywhere at once. General, we also spotted troop carriers dropping to the planet surface, many of them."

"How many?"

"Hundreds, perhaps thousands. They were being dropped everywhere."

"Captain, are you able to carry out your initial orders?"

"Destroy the City of Rekorta? All of our weapons systems are destroyed, General. It’s the only reason we're still alive. Once the enemy realized that we were unable to fight anymore, they stopped atacking us. We're running life support systems only—all other systems are damaged or destroyed."

"General, I'm receiving emergency communications from Colonel Nosivet," the operator interrupted.

"Commander Ulosot, advise the other warships as best you can. Keep us informed about the battle as best you can. From here out, you will observe and provide tactical data. Put Colonel Nosivet on."

"General, it's Nosivet. We have a problem here. We have a thousand citizens and slaves gathered and we were preparing to execute them but we were attacked. We believe they are the machine fighters of the Shadow Ship."

"Those machine fighters on Relm were formidible, Colonel, but their numbers were small."

"There are more of them now, General, and they're different, more powerful, faster, and their armor is better."

"Where are their forces concentrated, Colonel?"

"Nowhere, General. They're everywhere across the planet. My officers report from across the planet that they're all under attack by the machine warriors of the Shadow Ship."

"Are your warriors fighting, Colonel? Are they standing their ground?"

"They are, General, but it's becoming a slaughter. We won't last much longer. Soon they will destroy all of our ground forces."

General Unok paused at this to consider his options. It took only a few moments to make his decision.

"Stand down your forces, Colonel. Order all of your troops to drop their weapons and surrender."

"Yes, General."

"Contact all of the battle forces above us in orbit and order them to stand down and surrender," General Unok said to the control room operator, "then get me in contact with the captain of the Shadow Ship."

Within moments, his orders were complied with.

"This is Captain Suni Tashika. I understand you are the commander of all of the Okofani forces on and above this planet."

"I am General Unok. Yes, I am in command of all of those forces. Where is your captain?"

"I am the Captain."

"What about your captain… Jameson?"

"He is not the captain of this starship. He is the owner. You wished to address me?"

"I wish to negotiate a surrender. What are your terms?"

"No terms. Your surrender will be unconditional."

"We can cause much trouble before we surrender."

"My forces report otherwise, General. The terms of your surrender are unconditional."

General Unok realized that this Captain Suni Tashika was right. His forces were not even able to inflict minor damage before being destroyed. The attack by the Shadow Ship had been swift and destructive, catching his own troops and ships almost completely off guard. It was the last thing they expected after reports from the Battle of Relm of the Shadow Ship limping away, escaping by dilating time rather than jumping beyond light speed.

Now, the Shadow Ship was back, with many times the firepower it had at Relm. He could not fathom how this was possible. Then again, many past stories of the Shadow Ships were as incredulous as the situation he now faced. The Shadow Ships were the most feared in the galaxy and, it was sometimes said, in the universe.

"Very well, Captain Tashika. We surrender… unconditionally." He only hoped that they would not decide to do something worse to his forces than the glory of dying in battle.

Thirty-Seven

"Ah! Wellum… and Deetknarl," Frank said, discovering the two former rulers of Iskol in adjoining cells.

"Frank Jameson," Deetknarl replied, "It's good to see you back."

"I guess it's time for me to name my price, isn't it?"

"I've known all along that this moment would come, Frank Jameson. You've saved my world and my people. You name it. Anything you want of me."

"Release him," Frank said to the Okofani guards. Many of the Okofani had taken up posts formerly held by Iskolians, so that it would take a while before those positions would be filled again. In the meantime, the Okofani were charged with keeping order on the planet until the Iskolians could come back in to do those jobs.

Deetknarl walked out of his cell, casting a grin at Wellum as he did so, "You might want to get used to that cell, Wellum," he said.

"Emperor Deetknarl, and you are restored to your former title… for the time being," Frank began. I have a few demands on you and your society as compensation for the restoration of your planet."

"Name them, Frank Jameson."

"First, free the slaves—all of them. Second, until they're able to protect themselves, you and your people will provide protection for the native people of Relm, against other races that would enslave them. Third, your world must move toward a more democratic society, giving more power to the people."

Deetknarl winced at the last, realizing that it would be the end of his absolute rule over Iskol. He would still have some power, but only a fraction of that which he had before.

"Your demands will be met and exceeded," Deetknarl acquiesced.

"I am glad to hear it, Emperor."

"Frank Jameson, you will always have friends here on Iskol. If there is anything that you will ever need for as long as you live, you will have it here on Iskol."

"Be careful, Emperor, this discussion is being recorded."

"It is an historic occasion. It is time for my people to evolve in galactic society. We are capable of so much more, and you've shown us this."

~

Attending another formal dinner reception at the Emperor's Palace, Frank noticed a few new faces serving drinks. These were not Relmish, but Iskolians. And they were a bit clumsy. Already two dish-dropping incidents had occurred, both of which resulted in the immediate dismissal of the errant employees.

"'Tis good to see you back, Frank Jameson," Ambassador Rofful of Eldews greeted him, "I told you that you had friends among other races. Why did you not call on us?"

"My apologies, Ambassador. We were a bit busy."

"Not a problem. We're glad that we could have been of service anyway."

"Oh?"

"Yes. The Mechanical warriors on Relm were ours."

"But they fought against us."

"They were not intended to. They were sent there to fight alongside you."

"I don’t get it. How could we have misinterpreted what they did?"

"They're programmed to defend themselves. Your people attacked them, remember? But when your machine warriors dressed up like ours, we saw what you were doing and joined your ranks—or—you joined ours. That was an interesting tactic."

"You mean you knew our machines were among yours?"

"Of course. One moment we were a complete force, moving as one. In the next moment there were strangers among us, who looked like us, but wouldn’t answer any of our coded transmissions. For a while, we were completely baffled. We didn’t know if our transmissions were being jammed or what. For a time we theorized a series malfunction that had only cropped up in a specific group of Mechs on the battlefield.

"Then we did a body count. That’s when we realized that there were strangers among us. We knew that your forces had passed us by earlier, so we guessed they were yours."

"This is a bit confusing…"

"We had attempted to meet you off the battlefield prior to your attacking the main body of forces, but your warriors blasted their way through our main body before we could make contact with your leaders. Your warriors moved incredibly quickly. We were a bit shocked at how fast they were. We just wish you hadn't destroyed the last of our Mechs on that field. They're very expensive, you know."

"Sorry. Why didn't you simply contact our ship and let us know?"

"Impossible. Our communications would have been picked up immediately and our starships would have been destroyed in minutes. The only way we could make contact with you and your forces was to be there, on the ground, when you arrived."

"But your starships didn’t fight the enemy."

"We have a tremendous military ground force, but I'm afraid we haven't much in the way of warships. It was a huge effort just to supply the ones we did. Had we given ourselves away as one of your allies, they would have blown us out of the sky, and our Mechs never would have landed."

"But wouldn’t the other forces have realized what you did and attacked your ships?"

"By the time your forces met ours, our ships were already retreating and accelerating out of the system. By the time our enemies realized what we had done, we were already been well out of reach. If you check your own records of the battle, you’ll note that our warships never fired a single shot. In fact, we started moving off as soon as the first cowards started running from the battle. We pretended to be among them."

"You have my gratitude, Abassador. If your Mechanicals hadn't been there we would surely have lost that battle."

"I like you, Frank. I don’t know what it is, but your people seem to have a lot in common with mine. We’re alike in so many ways, that it’s probably even a bit scary. It surprised our mutual enemies when we went along with them to ‘attack’ you and your people. But they were so desparate for as many military forces as they could scrounge that they allowed us to come along without even asking why. It was like riding alongside a band of blathering fools."

"Mutual enemies?"

"Of course. Before you came here, there was peace in the galactic core, but it was a tenuous peace. Many of the worlds represented on Relm during that battle were… well… not very friendly toward us. If we did not have the force of Mech warriors that we have, they would have long since attacked our world and taken us as slaves. Believe it or not, we are actually one of the premier military powers in the galactic hub. We are quite well armed. And when we offered up some of our Mech warriors in the attack against you and your people, they jumped at the opportunity to have us along."

"Then you planned this?"

"Of course. We’re masters at strategy and deception. It’s one of the reasons we’re so formidable."

"Wow."

"I was wondering, Frank Jameson, Shadow Rider, we noted that your machine warriors were quite formidible in battle. What would you say to selling some of them to us?"

"Well, I'm no businessman, but I'm certain that you would not get a very good deal out of that."

"Oh? Why not?"

"My warbots are loyal to me and me alone."

"Loyal machines? That's unheard of."

"It's in their blood."

"It's in their… machines don't have… what kind of blood could they possibly have?"

"Well, mine."

Thirty-Eight

Panc had gotten the news that afternoon. All of the slaves on Iskol were officially freed that morning. Any who wished to return to Relm would be provided free transport home. Any who wished to stay and continue working here on Iskol would be paid wages commesurate with their job.

In the mean time, their present living arrangements would remain intact—and free—for no less than ninety days, by emperial edict, time enough for each ex-slave to decide whether he wanted to return to his homeworld or remain on Iskol to earn regular wages. There were no more curfews and no more work periods. No more freetime, and no more beatings. No more patrollers and no more ISS. Slavestingers were outlawed.

Panc was not expected to show up for his regular work shift, and he did not know what to do with himself. He had been born here on Iskol. He did not even know what Relm was like. Many other Relmish, mostly friends and some revelers celebrating their newfound freedom, had already been to his apartment quarters to celebrate with him.

He did not celebrate. He was lost. Relm would be a challenge to him and he was too old to make changes in his lifestyle. He had fully expected to live and die here on Iskol. He knew that many Relmish slaves were returned to Relm after they retired, but others were allowed to remain here for their retirement.

"Father," a voice came from the doorway, but it could not be. It sounded like Sahn, but she was gone, still a slave to the off-worlder who saved her life not long ago. He thought for a moment that he had imagined hearing her voice.

"Father," the voice sounded again. He turned and there she was.

"Sahn!" he cried. He jumped from his chair and ran to her.

"I'm back, Father," she said as she moved to hold him. He took her and held her in his arms.

"I thought I'd lost you," he said.

He backed up to look her over.

"What is this you're wearing?" he asked. What she was wearing was harder than metal and silvery in color.

"It's a warsuit. I'm sorry, Father. I've been through so many environments lately that I've been wearing it just in case I accidentally step into something I can't survive. It protects me."

"You're different," he said, "more mature? Changed? More sophisticated, I think. More worldly. You've been out in the galaxy."

"They taught me a great deal, Father. And I think I've been forced to grow up quickly—especially if I wanted to survive."

"The stories I heard… the Shadow Ship, the Shadow Rider, wars, battles. You've been through a lot. You, my own child, were one of the Shadow Riders!"

"Am, Father," she corrected him.

"What?"

"I'm staying with him, Father. Frank Jameson."

"The Chosen One."

"He's… not the Chosen One. He's the Shadow Rider. And he's my hero."

"But…"

"I've returned to look for a mate, Father. He's given me some time off and a shuttle."

"You're going back, then?"

"I can bring you along if I like."

"What?"

"It's a wonderful starship. It's fantastically huge, with plenty of room. You can relax and enjoy life or you can work. You can even tend a garden if you like. It's entirely up to you."

"You really have changed, Sahn."

"Did you have other plans?"

"I wasn't sure what I was going to do, now that I've been freed. I don't want to stay here, but I'd be lost on Relm."

"Then come with me, Father."

~

As Sahn made her way to the old freetime gallery, there was hardly room to move. There were so many revelers and partiers that the noise deafened her. Ex-slaves everywhere here were in celebration, but well ahead of the freetime period, there being no more freetime periods. The gallery had become a full time party zone.

Strange looks folk gave her as she squeezed between them, trying as best she could not to shove or hurt people, given the immensely increased strength of her warsuit. She wanted to remove it, but since she had worn it to Iskol, not knowing what to expect here, she would not remove it or allow anyone to remove it. Such technology could not fall into the hands of anyone outside the Shadow Riders.

She was just about to reach her old rendezvous place for her old friends when someone noticed who she was from the newsnets. Apparently, she was already famous. She thought for a moment that she should have left her warsuit on her private shuttle, where it would be protected from theft. Such a prize would draw a serious bundle of credits.

"Hey, aren't you Sahn?" a male Relmish said to her, a glaze in his eyes.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said.

"Yes you are! What is this suit you're wearing? That's a Shadow Rider warsuit! Hey everybody," he yelled out, "It's Sahn! She's here!"

At once they made room for her, and she stood there alone as they circled her, gazing in awe at one of their own kind, who had helped to make them free.

"Oh my!" came a voice out of the circle.

"It's her!" came another voice.

In moments the news passed through the crowd. The attention on her came from every eye in the gallery, of those who could see her. In the next moment, the Relmish in the first circle knelt before her. Then behind her, more Relmish saw and realized who she was and knelt as well.

Like a falling wave, the crowd knelt, in awe and almost in worship.

"Get up!" she said to them, but they could not hear her, her voice too weak to tell them.

She turned up the voice amplifier on her warsuit and tried again.

"Get up!" her voice boomed across the gallery, and the first circle of worshipers fell away.

"Get up!" she said again, "Never again do you kneel before masters. You are a free people! Shake off your collars!"

For a long moment, the crowd became silent. The crowd had become huge, more than a thousand Relmish had gathered and stopped to see her and hear her words. Then, as a wave of realization, percieved perhaps by only a few in the crowd, a cheer went up that became deafening. Her warsuit automatically dampened the roar.

Several in the crowd closed on her and attempted to lift her up above them, but her warsuit made her far too heavy, and that effort quickly came to a halt. The crowd made room for her and she slowly made her way to her old rendezvous place, cheering and praising her along the way.

"Sahn!" she heard from the crowd, and at once, the whole crowd took up the chant. But the voice that called first was one that she remembered. It was a female Relmish voice. It was Kima's voice.

"Kima!" she said, but her voice amplifier was still turned up, so again it boomed across the gallery. She walked in the direction she had heard the voice come from. It was almost her old rendezvous place. She would never have found Kima in this crowd.

In the next moment she saw them. Kima first, beside her were Truuk and Pac. Gelk was not there, nor was Gaf. She knew that Gaf had been imprisoned for sedition after he had killed one of the Iskolian patrollers. At once she ran to them. The crowd saw that she had found her friends and opened a way for her.

"Kima!" she cried, as the two fell together.

"Sahn!" Kima almost cried her name, "What are you wearing? Oh, nevermind. You're here. And you're alive. How I've worried about you."

Next she gathered Truuk and Pac to her and held them close, or as close as she could while wearing her warsuit.

"Looks like you came through for all of us, Sahn," Pac said.

"I… really didn't do anything," Sahn replied.

"Didn't… what?" Pac said, almost flabbergasted, "You've done more for our people than you could ever begin to imagine, Sahn."

"It's true," Truuk agreed, "Our people are free because of you—because of your courage."

"You'll become the greatest hero in Relmish history, Sahn" Kima said, "You were one of the Shadow Riders. You and the Chosen One set our people free. You fought a terrible war against powerful enemies and won. And you won our peoples' freedom."

"I really… didn't do much of anything," Sahn replied, confusedly. She didn't have the heart to tell them at this point that she was still a Shadow Rider, and would have to leave them soon.

"You can't be serious," Pac said, "Do you remember the disk we gave you?"

"I do."

"How much courage did it take to deliver it to the Chosen One himself?"

"I remember being a scared little fem during that episode, and nearly lost my life!"

"And that took more courage than most people ever summon in a lifetime," Pac replied.

It was only then that she realized that the newsnets had her on holovid as she talked to her friends. The crowd of Relmish had inched forward to listen in, as had the holovid crews. News of her arrival at the freetime slave gallery had spread quickly.

But she had in her mind one goal in coming here.

"Where's Gelk?"

"He's…" Truuk began to say.

"I'm here," the voice came from behind her.

She whirled around and there he was. Her childhood malfriend was different from the one she had left all that time ago. More mature, more serious, more… courageous. He wore a bandage here and there, and seemed to limp a bit.

"Sahn," he said, opening his arms to her.

"Gelk!" she said, as she fell into his arms, careful not to crush him with her magnified strength.

"Ow!" he said.

"What?"

"I have… I have some injuries," he said, "after I saw what you did, I joined the rebellion."

"Gelk is one of the most wanted slaves—ex-slaves—on Iskol," Pac said, "After you were taken by the Chosen One, he became one of the strongest and most vocal leaders in the rebellion. He was injured in a riot while fighting with an Okofani warrior."

"My hero," Sahn said, gazing with glazed eyes at Gelk.

"My compatriot makes me out a little bigger than I am," Gelk replied, "In reality, I was as scared as a young fem." At that, Pac and Kima laughed.

"Don't you believe it," Pac said, "After that, he became our local hero."

"What about Gaf?" Kima asked.

At once, there was silence.

"He's… still in prison," Sahn finally said, and she recalled that Pac and Gaf had been the closest of friends in their youth. "I don't think freeing the slaves included prisoners. As far as we know, slaves that are in prison now, will serve out their sentences."

Sahn looked at Pac, realizing how much he missed his childhood friend. She also knew that Gaf had received a life sentence.

"I'm so sorry, Pac. We all loved him."

"Can't you get him out?" Kima asked.

"Frank knows that Gaf killed that patroller," Sahn replied, "I talked to him about it. He won't have it. Iskolian or not, it was murder. I'm sorry."

"At least you tried," Truuk said.

"The Iskolians were adamant about it. There are more Iskolians in prison than ex-slaves, and they were all criminals. Frank agreed with them. Criminals were to serve out their sentences, including former slaves."

"But they only found him guilty of sedition. Couldn't they get him a reduced sentence?" Pac asked.

"I was there, Pac. I know what Gaf did to that patroller, whether he deserved it or not. He didn't have to kill the patroller. He could have throttled him and run, like the rest of us. Let's go somewhere where we can be alone. This crowd's too big for personal discussions like this."

~

There was only one place on the entire planet of Iskol where Sahn could be alone, with or without her friends. That was on her private shuttle. Frank and the rest of the crew of the Butterworth had long since left Iskol, and left coordinates for her to meet them at. Her private shuttle had a short-range transpace capabilty, which was sufficient to get her to the coordinates in a reasonable amount of time.

The Butterworth had been repaired and beefed up, since the Neophite was much too large for minor military operations such as this. In fact, it had been the Butterworth that made the attack on Iskol to remove the Okofani war machine.

The Neophite had been moved to another star system and hidden once more disguised as a planetary gas giant. Dense neutronium matter was converted to the gases that a planetary gas giant would need; hydrogen, methane, and a few other gases that make up the contents of a gas giant. It had been an ideal disguise.

Frank had taken a large part of the Relmish population on Iskol to Relm, himself, aboard the Butterworth. The remainder of the Relmish on Iskol had either decided to stay or had opted to decide later, taking a "wait and see" attitude.

In the meantime, whoever remained of the Relmish people on Iskol held Sahn out as their leader, along with Gelk, her boyfriend, who had been a leader of the rebellion. Much to her chagrin, she had no luck defrocking Frank as the Chosen One, and unfortunately, he would be stuck with that title into Relmish perpetuity. Try as she may, the Relmish people quite literally saw Frank as their Chosen One, and that would not change.

At one point, there was an attempt to make Sahn the Queen of the Relmish, but that notion she put to rest quickly. She had yet to leave Iskol. Much of her time was spent at their old quarters in the Imperial Palace with her father, it being difficult for her to step outside the palace without getting mobbed by ex-slaves.

She had stowed her warsuit in the shuttle, since she was in familiar territory now, but on occasion, wished she still had it. Had she a safe place to store it in the Imperial Palace, she would likely wear it more often, especially on trips out into the public.

Here, in her private shuttle, was a place of solitude, even though she knew that at least a thousand eyes watched this shuttle day and night. She had only to shutter all of the windows to have privacy. Here, she spent time at the computer, keeping up her studies, and remembering what Frank and his people had taught her. She was making a plan for the future of her people.

She had studied what galactic society thought of her people, a backward, ignorant race of people, intelligent, but lacking civilization and technology. More than likely, she decided, this was the reason that so many Relmish ex-slaves had opted not to return to Relm. They would return to a forested world, with no power, no food, no farming implements and no technology.

Other Relmish had no notion of the things she knew and understood. There was, in fact, no Relmish anywhere in the galaxy as educated as she was.

She had already spent most of her day here on her shuttle. She closed out her computer and left, heading back to her old home in the Imperial Palace. Along the way, Iskolian Patrollers escorted her, knowing her importance to the Relmish, more to protect themselves, should something happen to her.

When she got home, she walked in, greeted her father and sat down to take in the news.

"What are you waiting for, Sahn?" her father asked her.

"What do you mean, Father?" she asked back.

"I mean, what are you waiting for?"

"I don't understand your question."

"You're still here on Iskol. We're still here on Iskol. Are you unsure of Gelk as your mate? Is that why you're waiting?"

"No, Father… I'm… not sure."

"What is it you're not sure of?"

"Frank and his people have offered me a place among his people, with as many friends as I would have along. It's a great honor. And I have chosen whom I would bring."

"So what is it that you're missing?"

She sighed for a moment.

"My people."

"Ah. Now there's a rub."

"You don't understand, Father. They need me."

"Do they now?"

"Father, our people are capable of so much more. Ever since I was taken from here, they've put me in front of learning machines and I've been learning. I've not stopped learning. Did you wonder why so many of our people have elected not to leave Iskol? Why so few wanted to go to Relm?"

"I have considered it. The Emperor has guaranteed our freedom and equality here on Iskol, and has even assured us that it will be written into the new Iskolian Constitution."

"Yes, but why should we stay here, where we have only his word? Why not go back to Relm, where we know we'll have our freedom?"

Panc considered this for a moment.

"It's comfortable here. It's predictable. It's civilized."

"Yes, it's civilized. Can't you see, Father? This is what our people want—to rise above what we were on Relm. We're capable of this."

"Then… you're reconsidering your option to join the Shadow Riders?"

"I guess I am."

"You guess?"

"Yes, Father. I am."

"Then at least we know what the question is, now. That will make the answer much simpler to come by."

Sahn chortled at that.

"My people know what they want, Father. But I'm afraid none of them know how to achieve it."

"And you do?"

"Yes, Father. I do. I have the key to the future of our people."

"Really? What is that key?"

"The answer is so simple. It's education. We're an intelligent race. We're just ignorant."

"Certainly other Relmish people know this."

"Yes. But none in a position such as mine."

"Which is?"

"Leader, Father. They will accept me as their leader."

"Queen after all, then?"

"No. I would never allow such a thing. We must have a democracy. We must have elected leaders. The people must have a choice."

"And how would you lead them, Sahn?"

"I would not, Father. I would inspire them."

"Then it seems you've already answered your question, too. So what's the problem?"

"I so much want to stay with Frank and his people. They've given me so much. I would like the opportunity to give back to them."

"Really, I think that if you took up your yoke on Relm, Frank Jameson and his people would consider themselves repaid many times over."

"You're right, of course. I guess the truth is that I'm being selfish. What they offer me is such a fantastic opportunity. I'm not anxious to turn it down."

"Ah, now we get to the real questions."

"Only through your wisdom, Father."

"Heh heh," Panc chuckled, "Sahn, no one will think less of you if you join him. Relm will awaken, whether you are there or not. Our people will learn, we will educate ourselves, and we will rise in the galactic community."

"I know this, Father. But it will take longer—much longer—without me. I'm afraid we don't have the luxury of that much time."

"How so?"

"Frank and his people won't always be around to protect us and insure that the Iskolians or any other race might not come back to dominate us again. Right now, the Iskolians are grateful to Frank for lifting the yoke of the Okofani from them, so they're willing to make such concessions as they have. But people soon forget such things. Frank Jameson is the Shadow Rider, which makes his domain the entire universe and more. He can't stay here and guard over us forever."

"Then you believe it is essential that you stay, on Relm, that is?"

"Essential, yes, for my people."

"But not for you."

"I think my decision is made, Father."

"I'll pack my things. What are they wearing on Relm this time of year?"

"Nothing."

Thirty-Nine

"It's beautiful," Michelle said, admiring the landscape.

"It's rocks and dirt," Anna commented through her comset.

"Yes, but look. See that? Over there, licken, and I think that's algae growing on that rock over there," Michelle said, pointing.

"What's the air pressure here?"

"Eighteen point two psi. A little higher than humans are used to, but well within our tolerance."

"What about the oxygen content?"

"Still only about four percent, but we can accelerate that. We'll also need to up the free carbon production if we want these plants to grow more."

"It's still cold here."

"It'll warm up."

"What's that over there?" Anna said, pointing off in the distance at a glint in the sunlight.

"Say! If I didn't know any better, I'd say that might be our first lake. Or puddle."

"Or skating rink. Let's go have a look."

The glint was five kilometers away, but in their warsuits, which doubled in this case as environmental suits, Michelle and Anna bounded toward it at a pace of fifty kilometers per hour. They arrived in minutes.

"It's our first lake for sure," Michelle said.

"There!" Anna said, pointing at a little stream in the distance, "It's being fed by that stream of water. Look at the steam coming off of it. It must be warm."

"Comparatively speaking, it is warm, though pretty near freezing temperature. As soon as it hits this ice, it freezes. Eventually this will become a glacier. And when the temperature comes up a bit, it'll all melt and flow downward into this valley over here."

"Which will become our first river."

"Which will eventually flow into our first ocean."

"Wow. This terraforming is really fun."

"I told you it was beautiful."

"Seems like it's taking too long, though."

"Don't worry, we're putting up a hundred more stations all over the planet, just like this one. I'd say in about twenty more years, we'll have a beautiful playground, with trees, shrubs, grass and even a few animals."

~

"How are they coming along, Suni," Frank asked, walking onto the main bridge of the Butterworth.

"Three teams on the ground, Frank. They're still looking things over. Eight neutronium-plated satellites are in orbit and a small orbiting battlestation with a compliment of fifteen hundred warbots to keep an eye on our property. On the ground we'll have six thousand workbots to tend the terraforming equipment and another thirty thousand warbots in storage bunkers in three different positions on the surface," Suni replied.

"Good. I'd like to go down and have a look at things myself before we leave."

"I'll go with you. And I'm sure a few of the others would like to see it as well. We're all pretty excited about this project. Our own private world… it's… fantastic."

"I almost can't wait."

"You'll have to," Suni said, giggling, "it'll take another twenty or thirty years, yet. We've intercepted a communications bot from Sahn, by the way."

"Oh?"

"She says she won't be coming. When we are able, she wants you to meet with her on Relm."

"Ah. Well, I suppose I might have expected this."

"You didn't want to lose her?"

"She would have done well, here. But she has much more important work to do on Relm."

"She knows many of our secrets."

"She'll keep them."

"But what if she's abducted?"

"She'll be guarded."

"You intend to leave warbots?"

"Do we have a choice?"

"I suppose not. I'll send a contingent to Relm immediately."

"Now, what about the Okofani issue?"

"Our spies have been succesful in infiltrating their government at low-level positions. It won't be long before they displace many of the Okofani leadership. The Okofani will be reigned in soon."

"The Okofani are a warrior race. They seem to need to be at war."

"We've been working on that. We think that war simulators would be helpful. Something dangerous that they could play, like wargames."

"Dangerous?"

"It has to be. It's in their psyche. If it's not dangerous then it's not interesting to them."

"Seems a little morbid."

"I did not intend to tell them how to live, Frank. Did you?"

"Well, no. You're right, of course."

"It will keep them off the streets at night."

Frank chuckled at that. "Do we need to send a spybot factory to Okofa?"

"I was thinking of a more centralized location."

"Where?"

"Relm, of course. We have friends there. We wouldn't need to hide it so well."

"So I guess we'll be headed to Relm, next."

"Unless you have other plans."

"Well, I'd like a little vacation time. Relm really is a beautiful place."

"I've only ever seen it from space, myself."

"It's quite lovely, though I don't think the sea is for swimming."

"Then we'll have to head back to Omicron Four for that."

"Oh, the memories I have of that place. Especially the ocean."

"Frank!" Suni giggled, "The Neophite has a lovely ocean. I want to swim in it again, too."

"And make love in it."

"We don't need an ocean for that, love," Suni replied, gazing into his eyes.

"Hey, you're on duty."

"I'll be off in an hour," she said, "And it seems, it's my turn in your bed."

"Aye, aye, Captain."

"My captain, my love. And where to after that?"

"I understand the Neophite can cross between galaxies."

"So I hear. Where do you want to go?"

"I've heard so much about the Andromeda Galaxy."

"From whom?"

"From Gronk."

"What did you two talk about?"

"Everything."

Fini