 
NanoSymbionts

By Joseph Philbrook

copyright 2020 Joseph A Philbrook III

Smashwords Edition

Revision 2

Smashwords Edition License Notes This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. All characters are fictional. Any resemblance of any of the characters to actual people, living or dead, is purely an unintended coincidence.

The following contains mature subject mater.

It's content has not been censored and may not be suitable for all readers.

The story is about a complex future. Where expensive highly technical solutions exist for nearly all diseases, including sexually transmitted ones. A future where some biological solutions have also been discovered. In both cases, the lack of medical consequences for promiscuous behavior, can eventually lead to a change in what is perceived as moral behavior.

The bawdry, often explicit, occasionally humorous and sometimes even erotic concepts found in this story are not the point of the story. But they are part of it.

To those offended by such content. You are hereby warned. It's in there!

Table of Contents

The following contains mature subject mater.

It's content has not been censored and may not be suitable for all readers.

Author's Preface

Dark Dreams...

A fond farewell

Chapter 1 the Crash.

Chapter 2 Campsite

Chapter 3 An Awakening

Chapter 4 An Explanation of sorts

Chapter 5 Back to camp

Chapter 6 Hillside

Chapter 7 After Diner

Chapter 8 Spacebound

Chapter 9 The Garage etc...

Chapter 10 XenDar

Chapter 11 A New Strength

Chapter 12 The People

Chapter 13 Authority

Chapter 14 A Walk In The Woods

Chapter 15 Something About Cindy's Makeover

Chapter 16 To A Backwater World We Go.

Chapter 17 Exercise

Chapter 18 Something Odd In The Sky Of A Strange Land

Chapter 19 The Ruins of XenDar

Chapter 20 The Gift of Wildernest

Chapter 21 Air Power Failure

Chapter 22 Long Distance Transport

Chapter 23 Girls on the prowl

Chapter 24 A Meeting With The Professor

Chapter 25 Saddle Sore

Chapter 26 Surprise Attack

Chapter 27 A Call For Help & A Frantic Reunion

Chapter 28 Into The Pit

Chapter 29 The Burning Sky

Chapter 30 Counter Attack

Chapter 31 Security And Other Lost Causes

Chapter 32 Hysteria

Chapter 33 Monsters

Chapter 34 A Small Spark Of Hope

Chapter 35 A Sad Return & A Hasty Departure

Chapter 36 Sorrow

Chapter 37 Summons

Chapter 38 The High Council

Chapter 39 Audience

Chapter 40 Departure

Chapter 41 Exile

Chapter 42 LosLand Revisited

Chapter 43 a shadow of hope

Chapter 44 the cave

Chapter 45 a rude awakening

Epilogue

Appendixes

About The Author

Galactic Standard Units of Measure

Author's notes

About The Names In This Book

Author's Preface

This is the 3rd E-book I've self-published via Smashwords. Yet in the chronology of the story it's the first book of the series. In fact it was actually written first. When I started it however, I had no idea I would be self-publishing my work as E-books. I also didn't have a clue how to write it properly. At the time my life was also in such turmoil that I couldn't be consistent in my attempt to write about the multiverse that evolved in my dreams of this book.

As a result the plot was broken in several places and it became an unpublishable mess. I should probably admit that lacking any formal training on how to write such a book, I didn't even have a clue how to punctuate it properly. Then when my life became less turbulent and I had the time to return to my writings I started an adult themed trilogy with the book titled 'Biosymbionce'. Which was actually a continuation of this story. Some of which I drew upon in the form of memory recordings and dream sequences. Neither of which are, in my story, totally reliable.

So when I decided to rework this formerly unpublished backstory and release it as a free prequel to my trilogy before I begin writing my 'trilogy's' finale. I spent a lot of time cleaning up the grammatical and punctuation errors. I also fixed a few plot errors. So it is that I now recommend reading Nanosymbionce first. I mean it's free after all and the trilogy will make so much more sense if you read the prequel first. This is likely to be especially true of the finale... Which, unlike the first two books of the trilogy, will be written under the assumption that the reader has already read the prequel.

Dark Dreams...

The dream always started with something like this. But he never realized that fact while he was dreaming it...

Or was it the other way around. He was never really certain if this was the way the dream began, or rather if the last dream before waking, was always something like this just before he actually woke. He never could quite be sure. Either way though, it always felt like this.

A fond farewell

The guildsman began to wake from the protective hypersleep imposed by his cybernetic implants as soon as the temporal distortion field faded. It would have been nice to have permitted his nervous system to take a cyclet or two to gradually acclimate itself to the return of conscious thought but he was too good a pilot to risk it. He needed to be ready to act at once if anything went wrong. So he had his implants accelerate the process of waking up. Thus he was fully awake 0.003 subcyclets after the synthetic wormhole closed behind his ship. This of course, resulted in the headache that he always got when his implant forced his brain to wake up too fast.

He checked the display before him for any sign of trouble. All the indicators were green except of course for the power reserves which displayed 21% in amber. He quickly deployed the energy scavenging particle collectors and began harvesting power and particles from the local solar wind. He also checked his coordinates. He had arrived a considerable distance further out from the star than the prearranged rendezvous location called for. Which is to say that he had arrived precisely where he intended to. He was well aware that even the stripped down version of the guild stardrive that was installed on small scout ships like his didn't often miss it's target coordinates. However that close to the star's surface he hadn't wanted to risk it. So he had factored in a significant safety margin. He had also arrived far enough ahead of the appointed time to make the necessary corrections. He calculated that it would take four cycles to achieve the prearranged position, in the correct parking orbit.

He redirected a small but steady stream of particles to generate the thrust he needed. The guildsman had no need to check his calculations, His implant insured that he didn't make math errors. Nonetheless he checked his coordinates again to verify that the minute changes matched the results he expected. Then he settled in to wait. While he waited he thought about the disturbing news he carried. He also periodically rechecked his position and velocity, gradually reducing thrust as he approached the correct vector for the designated parking orbit.

Less than two subcyclets after the guildsman reduced the thrust to zero his view of the star field was suddenly distorted by the formation of another wormhole exit point. Then his friend's ship was there. It's initial relative speed and velocity when it exited the wormhole precisely matched the orbit he had only just achieved. He wasn't really surprised that his friend had managed to plot his wormhole so precisely. Had anyone else been piloting the incoming ship however, he would have been alarmed that the other ship had arrived in such close proximity that the magnetic fields generated by the docking clamps could complete the docking sequence without any help from the docking thrusters.

"You never could resist a chance to show off your skill," he said when the airlock door cycled open.

"And like I told you when we were just cadets, your skill is just as good as mine," the other guildsman replied. "You just never dared to trust yourself enough to stop factoring in a safety margin."

The first guildsman shook his head.

"Maybe so my friend," he said. "But what would have happened if I hadn't had enough time to finish correcting my orbital position from where my safety margin put me?"

The newcomer laughed.

"I would be more concerned about the likelihood of the star we are orbiting having changed it's galactic orbit enough for my wormhole to funnel me into it's fiery embrace," he replied. "You, I'm quite certain, would simply have arrived sufficiently early to make the corrections before I got here. In fact you've probably even had enough time to recharge your power cells by now."

The first guildsman conceded with a chuckle.

"Actually," he said with a glance at his console. "I'm only at 80% power." Then in a much more serious voice he added "I've made contact with the professor and I'm afraid you were right about those upgrades that central command is pushing. He says that he is quite sure that the missing safeguards are intentional. What's more, he's under pressure to start implementing them on our group soon. There is one ray of hope however. He's been developing a new decentralized control system that should enable him to actually strengthen the safeguards for those of us 'his' team upgrades. In fact the only thing he's waiting for, is that he is still fine tuning it so that the internal vulnerabilities built into central command's design, will appear to be in place by any remote monitoring their likely to use. That way when they inevitably try to turn us all into mindless slaves, there may be enough of us still capable of free thought to make a difference."

"So your actually going to let him upgrade your implant?" his friend interrupted him in a sharply demanding tone of voice.

"It's not like we're going to have much choice my friend," the first guildsman replied. "We might know that central command's up to no good. But we can't prove it! Soon their upgrades will become mandatory. They will point at the risk we take of an enemy getting hold of our external control modules. They will make outlaws of any of us who refuse to be upgraded. We would be hunted down like animals. And when they catch us they would either simply remove our outdated implants or worse, they would preserve us alive but replace them with behavior control systems such as those imposed on the most dangerous of criminals."

His friend silenced him with a hand gesture. Then after a moment he explained.

"In order to catch me, they will first have to find me," he said. "No I shall have to renounce my allegiance to the guild and disappear. Won't you come with me?"

The first guildsman sighed.

"No, if I go into hiding I won't be able to help the professor make a difference," he replied. "My choice is already made. Are you sure you won't join me in it?"

"No I will not, my choice is also made," the second guildsman began. "It may be that the professor can pull this off the way you say. And maybe he won't build in some way to take control of his upgrades himself someday. But I'm not willing to entrust my free will to anybody besides me. Of you my friend, I ask only for your word that you won't help them find me."

"Very well, you have my word," the first guildsman said. "It saddens me to think that we shall not meet again my friend. But so long as my free will is intact, I'll not hunt you down for them. But if you ever do see me looking for you, then you will know that you were right and I'm no longer myself. If that should happen, you will need to terminate me before I find you. You would in that case, be doing me a favor. But for now I think it would be best if you wait until I leave to begin forming your wormhole. That way even my sensor logs won't show which direction you took."

The former guildsman simply stepped back into the airlock.

"Farewell. I shall treasure the memory of our friendship," he said just before it closed.

"As will I my friend," the guildsman barely had time to say. Then he repeated to himself after the door had sealed between them "As will I..."

The guildsman continued to charge power cells as he began climbing out of the star's gravity well. His thrusters were using power nearly as fast as his collectors could replenish it. So by the time he had both escape velocity and sufficient distance to safely open an inverse temporal dilation wormhole his power cells only had a 90% charge. His calculations indicated that it would be more than sufficient for the relatively short range star flight to the guild base where the professor would be waiting for him. So he opened the wormhole and disappeared from his friends scanners.

The former guildsman had to wait two cycles before he had enough power to generate his own wormhole. By then he had calculated his departure. He began to redirect a stream of particles as a form of thrust. It took him another two cycles to reach the minimum threshold velocity. At which point he activated his wormhole generator. As his ship entered the wormhole he felt it's inverse temporal dilatation field begin to take effect. He had plenty of time to think about his plan before his implant imposed hypersleep took full effect.

His exit point formed so close to the planet he had chosen that not even the guild's best long range scanners would be capable of detecting it from outside of the local solar system. His own scanners were good enough to have detected any guild ships inside the system. He didn't waste any time recharging his power cells. There was just enough energy for a powered grounding. He wasn't planning on leaving this backwater world. So he didn't much care how long it would take for his ship's power cells to recharge at the reduced energy levels that would be available to his collectors on the surface. It took much less energy to generate thrust by passing atmospheric molecules through the induction thrusters than it had to supply them with particles scavenged from the solar wind. Even so it took more power then he had anticipated to reach the ground. The weather patterns were producing extremely strong winds which buffeted his ship with sudden changes in intensity and direction that required power draining compensations from his thrusters.

There wasn't even enough power left to open the main cargo bay doors when he finally touched down with a bone jarring thump. So he used what little there was to initialize a stealth protocol program that would use what solar energy it could passively scavenge to recharge the ships systems. Meanwhile the ships systems would hibernate until there was enough power for the ship to properly conceal itself. Then satisfied that he had done all he could to reduce the chance of his presence here being detected, the former guildsman exited through the manually operated escape hatch.

Chapter 1 the Crash.

Steve walked quietly down the path, stopping occasionally to scan for traces of his quarry. He was fairly sure the cybernoid had passed this way. As good as they were at covering their tracks, they always left some short lived traces of the complex electromagnetic field patterns generated by their microfusion reactors. He was getting closer. He paused again, this time to check the status of his weapon systems. Steve didn't have much to worry about, his weapons were at least twice as good as the best the cybernoid was likely to have and his defense shield had a full charge.

Still, it was best to be cautious, So he asked his nanosymbiont to do a comprehensive perimeter scan. A moment later he began to exhale a stream of nanites which quickly transformed themselves into a hundred nano-scouts. A dozen of which embedded themselves in the outer perimeter of his shield's sensor field. While the majority could have flowed along it until the field intersected with the ground. Where they could have extracted the minerals and other materials needed to build their own insect sized robotic augmentation shells from the dirt and sand. That would have taken a cyclet or two however, which was time he didn't want to waste.

So instead Steve's nanosymbiont commanded some of the nano-morphic material Steve kept in his pockets to transform itself into the needed shells. Thus it took less than a subcyclet for the nano-scouts to begin using Steve's nano-net to request the energy they needed to charge their completed robo-shells. A small fraction of Steve's defense shield's charge was then beamed directly to the robo-shells. As soon as it had sufficient power, each wasplike robo-shell launched itself on a fast reconnaissance flight.

Almost immediately Steve's head was filled with alarm messages. It was a trap. There were at least two drone class cybernoids ahead of him and three more rapidly approaching from behind. Worse still, they were all starting to emit high energy radiation. This radiation would have been dangerous. Even if the majority of it wasn't composed of an energy field type, that was particularly disruptive to his nano-net. He was beginning to lose nano-scouts at an alarming rate. Worse still, his personal defense shield was quickly being overloaded. Steve was amazed and a little scared. This was all wrong. His shield was rated to handle more energy than even a dozen of the microfusion reactors that powered the cybernoids were supposed to be able to yield.

Suddenly Steve understood what was happening. These cybernoids were effectively committing suicide, just to get him. They must have bypassed all the safety circuitry and cranked their microfusion power plants up far beyond the designed power level. This could only result in catastrophic containment failures. They were all going to explode! He had to get out of here now! Unfortunately the converging energy fields had already disrupted his nano-net so severely that his nanosymbiont had gone offline, reducing his internal nanites to something only slightly better than a standard bio-enhancement nanite package.

He couldn't even use them to call for help. Not that it would have mattered much, there wasn't enough time left to arrange an extraction anyway. There was only one possible way out. He still had the experimental prototype of the portable sidereal portalizer he had been testing in his pocket. It would be very dangerous. The portable unit couldn't compensate for the slight physical differences in the landscape between this universe and the one on the other side of the sidereal rift that he was about to open. Also, with his nano-net down, he would have no way to check that the transdimensional coordinates were accurate. He could easily wind up inside of something solid.

It hadn't been designed to open a portal suitable for human transport anyway. That was beyond the scope of such a small unit. Rather he was trying to develop a reliable way to send a small messenger drone through. The size of the portal was unlikely to exceed an arm in diameter. Worse, the aperture it generated wouldn't be stable. He had yet to get one to stay open for more than half a subcyclet. As often as not, they lasted less that 0.01 subcyclets before collapsing. So the aperture would probably collapse while he was still in transition.

That thought made him shudder even as he pulled the device out of his pocket and began to manually punch in the sidereal coordinates he had been using for the tests. At least he was sure that the size, orbital position, and rotational velocity of the two planets were currently in sync. As he pressed the last button of the activation sequence Steve threw himself at the spot where the portal would form. Even as he felt the transdimensional rift begin envelope him, he also felt the resistance to his passage increase as the effective aperture shrank as it began to collapse but at that exact moment he also felt a shockwave of force slam into him, just hard enough to push him all the way through. Then suddenly he was falling.

***

Jake was almost too tired to drive. He gulped down the last of the nearly cold coffee from his oversized travel mug. He glanced up at the overcast sky wishing that the moon would come out. It would probably take him about another hour on these windy mountain roads to reach the campsite. He thought about pulling over at the next wide spot and taking a nap but Cindy had already been upset at the idea of his having to go in to work on the first night of their vacation. He hadn't liked it either but since he was the manager of the convenience store he worked at, he hadn't had much choice. His assistant manager, Jill, had called to say she slipped and twisted her ankle so she couldn't relieve Sam, who had already worked 12 hours. She had tried to call in a replacement but nobody was answering their phones.

So he had had to make the three hour drive to cover the evening shift. Or rather the last four hours of it. When the 3rd shift worker, Bill got there at half past eleven, he agreed to cover Jill's morning shift. Which would give Jill enough time to rework the schedule from home. By 1:45 am, Jake had been nearly halfway back to the campsite. Then the weather had turned a bit foggy and he'd had to slow down. Now at half past two it was merely overcast and he was in no mood for any more delays.

Suddenly there was a flash of light somewhere overhead and something fell onto the road in front of him. Then to his amazement, Jake saw a man starting to stand up in the middle of the road. There wasn't time to stop! There wasn't anything coming the other way however, so he tried to swerve around him. He almost made it. He missed the guy but he was still doing 30 when his left front tire slipped off the pavement and sunk into the soft shoulder. Where it hit something solid and the pickup truck spun around and then hurtled down the embankment into the woods.

Jake saw the tree just before he slammed into it. When the airbag deflated, he was at first only vaguely aware of an intense pain in his chest. Then he saw that a stout branch had poked through the windshield and the remains of the airbag. Then he realized that the branch was lodged inside his chest. He wondered why it didn't hurt more. Then everything started going black. The last thing he was aware of was hearing somebody yelling something that sounded obscene. Then he knew nothing at all.

Chapter 2 Campsite

Cindy was pissed off at Jake for going in to work. It was bad enough that he had talked her into going camping but he had had to leave in the middle of supper and then be gone all night! It wasn't fair, he knew how horny she got at night. Especially since she could hear them carrying on in the other tent. She thought about how Jake would feel when he got the cold shoulder treatment from her when he finally crawled in. It would serve him right. Though she doubted she'd ignore him for more than a couple of hours. She'd still be horny after all. She sure wasn't going to get any sleep listening to what was beginning to sound as if that free spirit "Suzy" had managed to join in the fun Arnie and Karen were so obviously having. 'Damn it all Jake,' she thought again, 'where are you?'

She really did love him, even if she had stepped out on him a few times when he'd had to work the overnight shift. He'd been gone all night for a year and a half before he got promoted to store manager. She'd been so lonely all those nights that she had eventually decided that what Jake didn't know wouldn't hurt him. She'd been real careful to slip out to an out of town pickup spot she knew of, where nobody knew them. She'd even used a fake name so that if any of her one night stands ever told stories that somehow reached Jake's ears, he wouldn't know they were about her. Then even after the promotion, Jake had still felt obligated to do at least one overnight a week, sometimes two. So, after a couple weeks of that, she had decided it would serve him right and resumed her nights out.

'But damn it all,' she thought. 'We're supposed to be using this vacation to reconnect and rekindle the romance. Shit, I've just gotta stop thinking about my nights out or I'm gonna get so hot that I'll wind up trying to join the party next door. It'd serve Jake right for leaving me alone tonight. But I'd never be able to keep him from finding out.'

The noises coming from the cabin style two room tent that Arnie and his wife Karen were sharing with her friend Suzy, showed no sign of ending any time soon. So Cindy decided to take a walk in the night air.

Cindy climbed out of her sleeping bag, pulled her warm woolen poncho over her head and left the dome tent. Which she was supposed to be sharing with Jake.

'Jake is such an asshole,' she thought. 'For choosing his stupid job over being here when she needed him.'

Then she started down the nearest path leading out of the clearing where the tents had been pitched next to David's broke down VW camper bus. She hadn't even begun to think about going for a midnight swim until she heard the water trickling into David's private swimming hole up ahead. Then it occurred to her that she hadn't put her swim suit back on before she had left the tent.

That's when she realized the only thing she was wearing was the poncho she had grabbed when she left in such a hurry. The poncho did cover her well enough that even if somebody saw her, they wouldn't notice. Though the night air wasn't quite cool enough to keep her from starting to sweat, with the heat she had built up under the warm woolen garment by walking so briskly. Suddenly she wanted to cool off in the swimming hole so badly that she decided to skinny-dip. Who would see her after all.

She reached the swimming hole which was basically a bend in a brook that had been dug out with a backhoe, so that it would form a pool right where a smaller brook tricked down over a few well placed rocks on the far side of the pool, making a small enough waterfall that it was easy to sit in and enjoy the massage of the cold moving water. Cindy folded her poncho and set it on one of the rocks along the side of the path and dove in. As soon as her body adjusted to the chilly mountain steam Cindy swam over to the rock seat under the little falls. Soon she was sitting back letting the trickling water soothe away her tension. Well most of her tension. In spite of the coldness of the water, the idea that she was doing this naked, so soon after hearing some of her friends engaging in some kind of orgy made her remember how horny she was.

Just then there was a flash of light from the other side of the tree lined hill. The flash hadn't quite look like lightening but it would still have sent her scrambling out of the water. If only she hadn't been looking towards the trail when the flash of light showed her a very naked David Taylor walking towards the swimming hole. So instead of fleeing the water, Cindy quietly slipped off the partially submerged rock she was sitting on and sunk into the dark water. Opting to hide behind the other rocks placed around it. When Cindy was as out of sight as she could get. She risked a quick peek around the edge of the boulder she had chosen just in time to see David dive in, and quickly swim towards her hiding spot.

Cindy nervously realized that while she was well hidden from the beach at the end of the path, she had a nearly unobstructed view of David climbing up onto the 'sitting rock'. As he had called it when he had first showed his swimming hole to them all this morning. Her only hope of avoiding detection lay in the darkness of the night. Along with the hope that he wouldn't peer too closely at the shadows of the rocks she was hiding in. At that moment the moon stopped playing hide and seek with the clouds and gave her a very clear view of David gently massaging his rigid manhood.

Cindy stopped thinking as the lust that had been building up all night took over. She could see that David's eyes were closed as he slowly stroked his organ. So she risked a closer look. His manhood looked a little shorter than Jake's nine inches but, she thought, it was a little bit thicker. It was his balls that got her attention however, they were huge. As she quietly got closer another detail caught her eye. David, unlike Jake, hadn't been circumcised.

David didn't see Cindy slowly approach. So he was completely surprised when his hand's down stroke was followed by a set of lips engulfing him. The sensation was so intense that it took less than a minute for his orgasm to begin. It wasn't until he was finished that he opened his eyes to see that it was his best friend's girl who had just given him such pleasure. For a split second he hesitated. Then he decided that 'friend's woman' or not, he believed in giving as good as he got. David slid into the water and lifted Cindy's body up onto the rock she had so recently been hiding behind.

Chapter 3 An Awakening

Steve was standing beside the bed when his patient started to regain consciousness. The stranger who had almost died trying not to run him over groaned again. It took no effort for Steve to remember the name on this man's drivers license. Nor any of the megabytes about him that he had quickly extracted from the local planetary 'internet'. Then the man's eyes fluttered open.

"Where the fuck am I?" Jake demanded, as he looked at the unfamiliar room.

"Your in my medical laboratory Mr Peterson," Steve replied. "You've been in an accident. My name is Steve Fontane."

When Jake heard the word 'accident', he threw the blankets off and looked at his chest with a start. He couldn't see any trace of the terrible wound he expected to see. Nor for that matter, did he see any other signs of injury down the length of his body. He looked back up at Steve. Jake thought the man looked familiar.

"Where's my cloths?" he demanded.

Suddenly Jake realized why this 'Steve' looked so familiar.

"Your that nut case that jumped in front of my truck!" Jake yelled.

"Fact is I fell," Steve calmly replied. "I did not jump. But thank you for 'not' running me over."

"Do you remember anything else about the accident Mr Peterson?" Steve continued after a slight pause.

Jake didn't answer right away. Instead he absently rubbed his chest for a moment.

"I'm not sure what I remember," he finally said.

"Perhaps not Mr Peterson," Steve responded. "But it seems you remember the tree in any event."

"What tree is that?" Jake said guardedly. "And please stop calling me 'Mr Peterson'!"

"Jake then?" Steve asked with a smile. Then he continued without pause. "You know very well what tree but you won't find any scar there or anywhere else on your body for that matter. Would you like to know why?"

"Not as much as I'd like to know where my cloths are," Jake said.

"Your wallet, pocket knife and keys are in the draw beside the bed," Steve said. "Your clothes were not salvageable I'm afraid." Then with a gesture towards a closed door on the other side of the room he continued. "But there's something to wear hanging on the inside of that restroom door. I'll get you a replacement for the damaged butane lighter that was inside your shirt pocket. But not, I'm afraid, for the bag of weed that was with it." Steve paused a moment, then continued more gently. "The reason you won't find any scars is that in order to save your life, I had to enhance your body's natural healing power with nano-technology."

After a few seconds while Jake just stared at him like he was crazy or something, Steve resumed talking.

"If there had been more time I'd have used some customized medical nanites that you would never have had to even know about," he said. "But you were injured much to badly for me to wait. So I used some of my personal nanites. Then something really rare happened. The nanites liked you enough to want to stay. So instead of just repairing the damage and returning to me, they transformed themselves to match your genetic and brainwave patterns."

"Did you just say that you put some kind of fucking nanotech shit inside of me?" Jake was suddenly yelling at Steve.

"I don't mean to upset you Jake," Steve replied. "But there wasn't any other way."

Now Jake was sure that this Steve was some kind of nut. Before he could decide what to do about it however, Steve gestured towards the open door behind him.

"Let me show you!" he suggested. "You've recovered enough for walking and anyway it's just down the hall."

After a moment Jake decided to humor him long enough to find out what the hell was going on here. So he stood up and began to walk towards the door.

"You can get dressed first if you'd like," Steve said. "There are some female staff and a few guests out there. Course it's up to you, none of them actually get offended by nudity."

Without a word Jake changed course for the bathroom door. The clothes hanging on the inside of the door looked a lot like the blue jeans and V necked pocket tee outfit that he had been wearing but the fabric was much smoother and softer to the touch. Then he noticed that there weren't any labels. Jake didn't bother to go inside the bathroom to get dressed. He wanted to keep an eye on this Steve character. Besides it wasn't like the man hadn't already had a good look already.

These new cloths were surprisingly comfortable. As were the athletic shoes that looked a lot like his old pair, except that they were new. When he finished dressing, he walked around the bed and retrieved his wallet. Then after glancing at it's contents, he grabbed his pocket knife and keys. Then, while he put these in his pockets, Jake nodded at the other door.

"After you!" he said.

Without another word, Steve led him down a short carpeted hallway to a large, high ceilinged, mostly carpeted open space. Which was sparsely furnished with an assortment of expensive looking chairs and sofas arranged in such a way that afforded anyone seated with an excellent view of the most realistic indoor waterfall Jake had ever seen.

The big room was at least two floors tall. The sides having several doorways like the hallway he had just left. It also had what looked like a long second floor balcony that served as a walkway along either side. At one end there was a massive door that appeared to lead outside. It was the two story waterfall at the other end however, that really dominated the room. There was a safety rail around the small pool at the base of the falls. The turbulent water rapidly flowed into two channels on either side of the falls and was gone.

The rock face that the falls flowed down, looked so real that it was hard to believe you were indoors. Jake was so fascinated by the realistic appearance that he missed seeing which doorway Steve had just left the big room by. He was pretty sure that Steve had been on his way to the other side of the room when he had lost sight of him. That eliminated 5 of the of the 11 doorways that opened off the big room. He was sure Steve hadn't walked towards the water fall so that eliminated the backmost passageway. He didn't believe Steve had had enough time to get as far as the doorway by the main door. That would also rule out the main door itself. Which left three doorways, the one directly across from the one they had come in by and the next two heading towards the back of the big room.

In any case it didn't look like Steve was going to bother to come back to finish escorting him to what he wanted him to see. Jake didn't feel like standing there looking like an idiot in front of the half dozen people in the room. He'd noticed however, that two of the four women who were enjoying the fall's were not wearing upper garments. All four of the women were strikingly beautiful.

One dark skinned woman with black hair, who appeared to be perhaps 30 years old, was wearing a prim looking business pants suit. She was casually un-spooling a skein of some kind of yarn. While a younger looking fair skinned blond, wearing only a grass skirt, rolled the yarn into a ball. Just a little closer to the falls there was a redheaded man who looked to be about 20. Who was quietly reading some book. He was wearing cut off shorts and a loud multi-color tie-dyed tank top and a white armband with a black circle containing a white on black image of a waterfall flowing out of the front door of some kind of building. Jake was surprised at how well he could see the details on the armband.

Across the way there was a brunette of perhaps 25, who's only garment was a green pair of sweats. She was casually nursing a baby. There was a blond that looked about 25, with hair held in place by a black headband. She was wearing a black sleeveless one piece knee length dress with a short white apron. He watched her deftly set a tray with a sandwich and a wine glass full of some pinkish liquid on the table beside the woman with the baby. When she turned to walk away, Jake noticed that there was a white circle on the front of the headband that appeared to display a negative version of the same image as the one on the carrot top's armband.

Jake liked looking at the beautiful women but he wanted to figure out which way Steve had gone. He didn't feel like asking any of these complete strangers for directions. So on a hunch, Jake tried the doorway straight across. It opened to a short hall that ended in a "T" shaped intersection. Where he turned right without hesitating. A little ways down 'that' hall he found a recessed elevator door on the left side. Steve was leaning against it.

"Took you long enough," he said with a grin.

Then Steve shifted his weight off the elevator door, pushing off with his elbow on the call button beside the door. The elevator opened immediately. Steve gestured Jake in first. The inside looked a lot like a stainless steel hospital elevator. Big enough for two stretchers with a door in the back as well as the front. Next to each door there was a standard elevator control panel with buttons for 3 numbered floors and one marked 'B'. Beside each of the elevator control panels, there was a keypad with buttons like a touch tone telephone dial and a four inch display screen. It also had a small speaker grill. After an awkward moment while Jake waited for Steve to push a button or two, Steve gestured towards the buttons near the door behind Jake.

"We're going downstairs," was all he said.

After a slight pause Jake decided that instead of pushing one of the standard elevator control buttons he would just punch in a number at random on the keypad and see what happened. When he reached for the buttons he was suddenly quite sure that he wanted to dial '*000#03*'. The elevator seemed to quiver slightly, the door closed, then the elevator suddenly lurched downwards. After several seconds it came to a stop and the backdoor opened onto a rock walled entrance chamber. Which lead to a spherical chamber with a flat gridwork platform forming a small circular floor with a diameter of about one tenth that of the sphere. The platform was about halfway between the bottom and the center of the sphere. It could be reached by a single catwalk that extended from the entrance chamber.

On the platform there were several large flat display screens held in various locations by multijointed support arms that were centrally mounted to the grid work about halfway between the outer edge and the center of the platform. Another such arm held a keyboard of some kind. It had about sixty keys with strange, yet somehow familiar, markings. Just above the top row of buttons there were 3 built in, thumb sized track balls. Just below the bottom row of marked buttons there were 3 sets of 3 unmarked round thumb sized buttons.

"I noticed that you liked that waterfall display upstairs," Steve said. "Why don't you see if you can call up a view of the real waterfall it portrays?"

"How?" Jake demanded.

"The same way you knew the keypad sequence to get here." Steve said.

"But I just took a wild assed guess at that!" Jake retorted. "I've never even seen this kind of keyboard before. It's not marked in any language I'm familiar with..." His voice trailed off as he became aware that the markings on this weird keyboard were starting to look very familiar.

"But then it was almost like you remembered the number wasn't it?" Steve asked with a chuckle.

"Except I couldn't have remembered something I never knew before!" Jake insisted.

"True enough," Steve said. "You didn't remember it, but your nanites did. Don't forget, they used to be some of mine. So they remember almost everything I currently knew just before they became yours. They will guide you to 'remember' what I know about how to use this control panel too. You just need to know what your looking for. If your looking for the original falls, you 'will' be able to call up the images. Try it and see."

This was crazy but Jake began to get a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. The idea that there might really be some kind of nanites interfacing with his brain frightened him but he didn't really believe the elevator sequence was pure chance. So he decided to play along with what he hoped was just a bad dream. He took a step toward the keyboard. The adjustable tray immediately moved, automatically positioning the keyboard to within his easy reach. He didn't even flinch. Somehow he had almost expected it would do something like that.

He tried to randomly tap a few keys but found that his fingers kept hitting what he was sure were the right keys. It took only a few seconds to tap out a sequence of 117 keystrokes. It suddenly occurred to him that he hadn't actually counted the keystrokes. This meant he didn't know how he knew it was exactly 117 keystrokes nor why it had seemed right to stop. When he did however, one of the larger flat display screens produced an almost three dimensional image of a waterfall cascading down the side of a large rock face in front of some kind of village composed of an assortment of grass huts.

He noticed that there were fifteen naked villagers scattered around the place. They looked human except that their skin was an unusual shade of deep blue and they were totally hairless... One female who appeared to be casually having sex with one of the males suddenly turned her head and seemed to look back through the view screen directly at them. Somehow Jake was sure that she knew they were watching. Then, when she smiled and winked in his direction, he got the distinct impression that she would like them to join with her in an exhibition of group sex. Then the male followed her gaze and looked their way. He didn't seam to be able to tell what she was looking at and suddenly ceased to care. The male villager's eyes glazed over as he began to empty himself deep within her.

Suddenly Jake slapped at the keyboard. He wanted to stop the show. His fingers tapped on three keys and the flat panel display abruptly turned gray. As did the narrow border which, until then, had had a dim red glow. Jake fought to gain control over the almost painful swelling in his crotch. Suddenly he realized that he had no idea how long he had left Cindy cooling her heals at Dave's campground.

"Why did you disconnect us like that?" Steve interrupted his train of thought. "The sub-memory, should have been strong enough for you to realize that closing down the portal's core processor while that destination was in focus was a bad idea. Now restoring that particular destination's resonance value will be a nontrivial and time consuming computation."

Jake looked at Steve without answering for a few seconds. He also noticed that Steve had just as obviously been affected by the sensual scene he had just disconnected. Jake looked Steve in the eyes.

"Yeah I guess I did know," he admitted. "I kinda figured there was another way to get that blue chick off the screen. But I also had the distinct impression that it was possible to find a way to go there. And I found myself tempted to figure out how. I had to make sure I had a minute or two to think... How long have I been here? Damn it all! I have to call my lady! Where can I find a phone?"

Steve sighed, then answered the first question first.

"The accident was about 3 hours ago," he explained. "If by your 'lady' you mean one Cindy Kincade, we traced her to a nearby private camp via your cell phone. It's within range of our surveillance system so while you were still unconscious, I used it to check on her. Your phone was in one of the tents. She wasn't. But since I'd already hacked her drivers license photo it was a simple mater to feed it to some surveillance-drones who soon found her. You really should look at the images before you call." Then with a slight gesture back towards the control panel. "You can do them both with that."

Jake wasn't even surprised that his fingers knew how to dial up the Cell phone with the keyboard that was once again under his hands. Nor that he didn't have any problem getting it to produce a headset for a more private conversation. Even as it started to ring, he figured out how to find the security log with Cindy's name on it. The outline of the big display started to glow with a faint blue light and Cindy appeared on the screen. Her head was thrown back. So that her hair cascaded down the rock she was almost laying on and brushed the water that swept around it. She was naked and writhing beneath the attentions of a large man who's face was buried in her crotch. He couldn't see the man's face but he recognized him all the same.

This time, when he shut down the display he found something less severe than the total disconnection Steve had complained about a minute ago. Even as the deselected image faded the earpiece invited him to leave a message on his cell phone. Suddenly he wanted to know where Cindy was now. He didn't need any prodding from Steve to figure out how to find the insect sized surveillance-drone that was still monitoring Cindy. The screen came to life showing the inside of Dave's old camper where Cindy was sitting on Dave's lap...

Jake deselected the view and took off the headset.

"I don't know about you," Steve said gently. "But I'm heading for the jacuzzi room. Where I'll likely find one or more of the girls you saw upstairs. Any of whom would most likely be glad to help us with our obvious problems."

It took Jake a couple of seconds to make up his mind.

"I might as well join you," he eventually said and followed Steve back upstairs.

They went through the doorway to the right of the indoor falls. Jake didn't hesitate to hang his cloths on one of the hooks that lined the hallway. He couldn't help but notice as Steve did the same, that the man was very well hung. As they walked through the doorway into the shower area at the end of the hall a multitude of shower heads automatically sprayed the sweat off them from many angles.

The jacuzzi in the next room was huge. It was nearly 4 ft deep in the central area, which contained both statues and fountains. The outer edges were lined with half a dozen booths. Each big enough for four people to sit intimately together in the gurgling waters. He saw that two of them were in use. In one to his left a girl was sitting in a guy's lap and in one on the right there were two girls talking.

As they entered the conversing beauties stepped down into the deeper water in the middle and quickly waded over to them. The taller of the two was a dark skinned black haired beauty with brown eyes. The shorter girl, a fair skinned blond with green eyes who was wearing a white headband spoke first.

"Hi, I'm Erika," she said.

Jake recognized her as the girl he had seen wearing a dress and an apron.

"I'm Jake," he replied.

About then the taller girl introduced herself.

"My name's Sandra," she said. "By the way," she pointed at the still occupied booth, "Since they appear much too busy to introduce themselves, that's Linda over there with my Jess." Then she stepped closer and asked "Do you mind?"

Jake had no trouble figuring out what she was asking if he minded about. Because even as she said it she reached out and sensually caressed his balls.

"Why would I mind?" he asked as he suddenly realized that this hot blooded woman was the one who had been wearing a prim looking business suit.

"I'm thinking that was a rhetorical question," Sandra replied. "But seriously, we need to know which of us you'd like to do first?"

At this point Steve interrupted the ladies.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to drag Jake out of here in about an hour girls," he said. "So I think one of you will have to catch him another time"

"Spoilsport!" Erika said.

"Just so you know Jake," Steve explained. "Sandra seams to be taking an unfair advantage here. Erika is a 'house' employee, as such she's allowed to 'play' if someone asks her to. But she is not allowed to actually suggest such things..."

"It's a hard choice," Jake admitted. "But I don't think I've ever made it with a green eyed girl. Would you like to play, Erika?"

She answered by grabbing his rigid tool and began pulling him towards a booth.

A heartbeat later Sandra was doing the same thing to Steve, calling out over her shoulder, "I want a rain check Jake."

Chapter 4 An Explanation of sorts

Jake was sitting in a very comfortable chair across from the desk in Steve's expensive looking office. He was having a hard time accepting some of the things Steve was explaining to him. Even if he was beginning to believe that Steve was essentially telling him the truth, though he doubted it was the whole truth. As it was however, it was more than he wanted to know.

"OK Jake," Steve had started by saying. "I know you have some questions you'd like me to answer. There are also a few things you really need to know. So if you'll let me have my say for the next 20 minutes or so, I think you'll find many of your questions will be answered. Then if you like, I'll answer as much of what's left as I can... Shall I continue?"

When Jake nodded, Steve leaned his chair back and swung his feet up onto the wooden desk. Then he looked Jake squarely in the eyes and started talking.

"First I think I'd better start by explaining a bit about those 'memories' of mine stored in your nanites," he said. "They can help you with useful scraps of information, such as passwords and control sequences. Such things they can already let trickle into your short term memory as you need them.

They can also provide a nearly physical feedback to your whole body's nervous system with which they can quickly teach you every physical skill I currently have. For instance, it took me months of practice to master throwing darts until I could reliably pin a fly to the wall from across the room. You should be able to develop the same skill with less than a dozen practice throws.

Soon your nanites should be able to offer you some kind of report, that correlates data from my memories with current data sources on any subject you ask. The form of that report will be tailored to what works best for you. They will work with you to develop a personal communication interface. In my case it's a lot like having another ear they can talk to. And a particular way that I subvocalize instructions to them. Some prefer something more like an internal television.

They won't however be able to restore my actual experiences to your memory and it's a good thing they can't. That kind of memory is very complex and is actually stored in many small pieces scattered in various parts of the brain. Your brain would have made different associations with which to store away the memory. There would be so many little differences between the way my memory was stored and how your brain would retrieve it. That restoring them, as if they were your own, would eventually unbalance your mind. Thus your nanites simply won't do it.

You see they liked your mind enough to bond with it. So now they actually depend on your personality being intact. They use an analysis of it along with your genetic code as part of an encryption key that will eventually let them network themselves into a secure artificial intelligence. They already feel your emotions. They like it best when you feel happy. They want your mind to remain healthy enough to make 'happy' possible." Steve paused for a moment before he continued. "What I told you is true of my direct memories. Though you should be aware that if a properly prepared report was extracted from my memories. Then your nanites could safely import that.

In time your nanites will be able to enhance your own memory with a form of total recall, that will go far beyond what might reasonably be expected from someone who claims to have a photographic memory. Even now it is already certain that you should never again have to look up the same piece of information twice."

Steve spent the next 10 minutes telling Jake several things he didn't feel much like listening to. Yet, Jake did sense that he was absorbing the details better than he had ever been able to learn anything before. Somehow he could sense that Steve was telling the truth as he saw it. He didn't like all of what he had heard. He hoped Steve's description wasn't as accurate as Steve believed it was. Though he did like the idea that the nanites would most likely prevent most insects from ever actually biting or stinging him. Steve paused for a second after explaining that it could take Jake years to fully develop the ability to consciously control his nanites, but that in the mean time they would never stop trying to serve him.

"You've just become a member of a very exclusive club you know Jake," Steve was saying. "Those few lucky enough to even be augmented with our nanites tend to live very long healthy lives. And your nanites are far more capable of protecting you than any of the varieties used for mere augmentation. You now have the potential for a virtually 'endless life'."

"Why is it only a lucky few then?" Jake asked. "I mean if these nanites are so good, why not share the wealth?"

Steve thought a moment before he replied.

"Well to start with it takes a truly sentient network to properly maintain and manage the nanites we use for augmentation," he explained. "Our alpha class nano-nets are good but there are limits to how many of our friends, relations and other associates any one of us can keep fully augmented at any one time.

Then of course there are some severe restrictions imposed by the nanites themselves about the qualifications for someone to become the host of a truly sentient nano-network. It's a very rare thing for them to find a mind that they think they can keep interested in bothering to live long enough. For the resulting nanosymbiont's life to last long enough to be worth it's having to pass away with us if we should someday tire of living.

Another sad fact is that we can't even provide everyone with a long term supply of our medical nanite packs. The cost of doing so with even just our standard medical nanites would be so high that not even the guild has the resources for it. What's more we can't simply give away the technology for people to make their own nanites. In the wrong hands, the technology behind it is far too dangerous. It'd be like giving nuclear weapons to cavemen.

So you see Jake, no mater how much we might wish it wasn't so. We simply can not grant an extended life to everyone. Which may be why some of us try to help the leaders of the many civilizations we encounter in our travels. To understand ways to improve the general well being of their people."

"Just a second Steve!" Jake interrupted. "You keep saying things like 'we', 'our' and 'some of us'. Just who is 'we'?"

"Well for the most part 'we' are elite members of an interstellar trade organization known as 'The Cosmic Sailor's Guild'," Steve replied. "We have trading privileges on most inhabited worlds. Of course this world is too xenophobic for us to openly make our presence known. But the guild's been here, off and on, for centuries. And I myself have maintained a strong personal presence here a lot longer than that."

Steve pulled something that looked similar to Jake's old refillable butane lighter from his pocket.

"This replacement for your old lighter has a few enhancements you should know about," Steve said as he set it on the desk. "For starters it includes a small advanced microfusion reactor which your nanites can tap into when they need more energy. The lighter itself can be used to light candles, or even smoking material. It can also be used like a welding torch. It can, for example, generate enough usable energy to power a first class defense shield."

Jake picked up the lighter, casually slipping it into his pocket.

"OK Steve, somehow I not only believe you when you said you built a nuclear reactor into the lighter but I'm not actually worried about keeping such a thing in my pocket," Jake admitted. "That fact alone should bother me almost as much as the fact that I believe you when you tell me it's nuclear... Why doesn't that bother me?"

"Most likely that's because it's the first of several external tools and weapons that your own nanites will build for you," Steve replied. "Since your nanites built it, they know it's safe for you to carry around. Incidentally it's also the last such device for which your nanites will accept construction guidance from my nanites. So if you want or need them to build anything else before that personal communication interface I mentioned evolves. You will need to use one of the computer terminals here at Hillside. Just log in as Jake and look for the nano interface demo which will work for you until you and your nanites settle on a personal interface."

"OK," Jake said. "Lets say for the moment, that I believe everything you've told me. There's a couple things I can't quite figure out."

"Like what?" Steve prompted.

"Well for starters," Jake began. "The attitude everyone here seams to have about sexual morality. I mean it's not quite like some religious cult where everyone has to partake of some ritualistic orgy. And yet it seams like everyone I've met here seems to think there's nothing wrong with adults acting like they were part of some college fraternal organization that still believed in all that 'Free Love' stuff the 'Hippies' were pushing in 60s. I know you explained that, thanks to those nanites rebuilding my body, I can expect to have to deal with pseudo hormonal effects that would make the average American teenager look like a prude. But not only does it seam like your entire staff just expects me to become some kind of sex maniac who can somehow make everyone else want to have an orgy and yet none of them seem to mind very much. Not even the ones that say they don't usually want to play.

How could you possibly have so many employees who seem to think it's normal for random orgies to happen at work, without this place winding up plastered all over the news or at least some of the tabloids?"

Steve shook his head.

"Well some of that is hard to explain," he began. "To do so I'm going to have to explain some things you haven't asked yet. The answer starts with the 'guild' itself. Did I mention that it's an interstellar organization?"

"Sort of," Jake confirmed.

"Well the guild does have it's own set of moral codes to uphold," Steve continued. "Though for the most part they differ greatly from the 'Earth norm' for that sort of thing. You need to understand that guild culture is based on very long lives. Even our lowest ranking personnel tend to live long enough to put an enormous strain on the kind of exclusive relationship such as is expected of people in most 'Earthly societies'. And the 'Power Elite' are for all practical purposes immortal. But, as I said, we do have a moral code to follow. Mostly it's about not forcing anyone to want to do anything they really don't want to."

"You mean like the kind of thing you said I'll wind up doing to people whether I mean to or not?" Jake interrupted.

"Exactly that kind of thing!" Steve confirmed. "And/or having rules or laws that require people to conform to someone else's will in such matters. Including cramming an institution like marriage down peoples throats. The way we see it, your 'Hippies' almost got it right. But getting back to using nano-pheromones to influence people's right to make up their own minds about what they want to do. We believe that such power should never be used lightly. And certainly not the way new nanosymbionts, such as yourself, almost always wind up using it while they adapt to having such new found powers. Everyone in our society expects some such misbehavior from new nanosymbionts however. At least for a while. But you will be expected to get a handle on it eventually..."

Steve paused briefly.

"Now, about my staff," he resumed speaking. "For starters I screen my employees thoroughly before I hire them. Some of them are imports from guild civilization. The rest are all at least tolerant of what 'guild mores' their exposed to. Especially the idea of choosing for oneself. And by the way, not all of my staff are tolerant of the idea that you might accidentally take control of their sexual behavior.

I had to give several of them paid leave or extended assignments elsewhere. Especially the ones who aren't even aware that I have that kind of ability. Not all of them know all that much about what really goes on here. Though to be sure they all know that we're affiliated with a top notch international biotech company that's working on nano-technology. They also know that we take a strong stand against allowing our biotech to be used for military purposes. Most of them believe that that is why we can't share some of our best medical advances with the world. They rightly think that we spend a large portion of our budget to ensure that our employee's and guests stay healthy. Though most of them think that the protection we offer them has more to do with advanced screening technology than anything else. And that we only resort to medical nanites when we detect something vile, such as a sexually transmitted disease. The fact is, most of them don't have a clue that our nanotech is all that much more advanced than the assorted governments have been led to believe.

Speaking of which, our affiliate really does manufacture a surprisingly advanced form of nanotech. The two biggest deceptions about which is that we've led them to think that the process of configuring the nanites for any specific task requires absolute isolation from all electromagnetic energy sources. And the fact that they don't know that they can be configured for more than one specific task at a time.

Like I said, they also think that the nanites must be contained in a fully shielded lab to be so programmed. This, of course would make the practical application of them cumbersome. And even more exorbitantly expensive than they really are. But we can't let them have anything more advanced than that without giving them access to certain horrific military applications that we simply can not allow them to have.

As far as keeping all this out of the news goes. Well one of the acceptable uses for the power to alter the thinking processes of others among our kind. Is to provide those who would attack us with an alternate perception of reality. Sort of the ultimate camouflage. And in certain extreme cases we can and will alter the memories of those who would otherwise attack us. I'm not sure it's completely ethical of me to cause the local tax adjuster to see our waterfall as a cheap plastic imitation. But it really wouldn't do to let the local municipality, have accurate plans of all the secret tunnels under the hill. And if I can pull the wool over the taxman's eyes, you gotta figure that most reporters are easily fooled."

"So you just routinely invade peoples minds," Jake suddenly interrupted. "And then edit any inconvenient thoughts? Surely you know what I think of that!"

"Not exactly Jake," Steve replied. "Oh to be sure, I can sense your emotional state easily enough. That, added to the context of our conversation is enough to make for some fairly accurate assumptions on my part. But the operative word for it is 'assumption'. You see Jake, while it's not difficult to alter what most people think they see, hear, or even smell, by altering the input of of their senses. Nor even to add a few false memories to the memory centers of their brains. It's also fairly easy to non-selectively suppress their memories of recent events.

That is to say, using the taxman example, if I ever forgot to prevent him from seeing how impressive our waterfall is. I couldn't just edit that piece of information from his brain. I'd probably have to wipe his memory of the whole day. And for the most part if I waited until the next day, it would be too late to suppress his memory of the event.

Now actual mind reading is another matter entirely. Our nanites don't actually make us psychics. And for them to forcefully extract detailed information directly from someones mind, would violate one of the limits on their use imposed by the nanites themselves. That is to say, they simply won't do it."

Jake shook his head.

"Wait a minute," he argued, "You can't possibly expect me to believe that a bunch of microscopic machines actually care about the privacy of a man's thoughts..."

"Not exactly his privacy Jake," Steve explained. "But you see, it takes a very specialized kind of nanite to safely extract a 'report' of what's in somebody else's brain without literally ripping apart the synaptic circuitry that is needed to think it. Which is so terrible a way to kill a brain that the very idea terrified the host-minds in which our nano-networks first became sentient. Which was long before we learned how to build the specialized nanites that can do so safely.

Back then the first true nanosymbionts inherited their host-mind's horror of it. They saw the danger of becoming such a monstrosity even more clearly than their original hosts did. So when we wanted to modify their innermost firmware to the point where there were certain safeguards on what they could or would do. In order to insure that we didn't become something we couldn't live with. The nanosymbionts themselves insisted on a few specific limits. That was one of them.

Incidentally, even those specialized nanites that can safely extract memories from someone's brain, will only do so if the brain in question is willing. Does that explain it well enough for you Jake?"

"Yeah, I guess," Jake replied. "Well enough for now anyway."

Then Steve spent another ten minutes explaining a few more details and answering a few more questions, before he made the best job offer Jake had ever heard.

Chapter 5 Back to camp

It was just about 7am when Jake quietly pulled into Dave's campsite, driving one of Steve's modified Jeeps. As soon as the Jeep came to a stop, he nearly leaped out of it and walked over to Dave's old VW and without bothering to knock he stepped inside. Most of the interior was taken up by the bed on which the naked pair had been sleeping until he opened the door. Cindy looked up with a start as a look of horror spread across her face. Dave looked up at his old buddy and was the first to speak.

"I'd say I was sorry buddy but I won't lie to you," Dave said. "I've been dreaming of getting into Cindy's pants since you first introduced me to her 3 years ago. But I never would have thought you'd be dumb enough to leave her here, alone, all night last night."

"I hope you had fun," Jake said directly to Cindy, ignoring his friend. "Cause things are going to be a bit different from now on." He paused long enough to notice the tears starting to flow from her eyes, then he continued speaking. "This doesn't have to mean we're all done Cindy. At least, not if you still love me?"

Cindy wasn't sure what to do or say but she really didn't want to lose Jake.

"Yes Jake, I do still love you..." Her voice faded out for a second as she started to realize just what he had said. "What do you mean different?"

"For one thing this is a game both of us can play," Jake replied. "And believe me, I am gonna play it a lot! But I guess that means I can't get mad at you if you do too. Who knows, we might even help each other realize a few fantasies." As he said that he stepped out of his pants and climbed on to the bed. "Stay put Dave, it's been a long time since we tag teamed one of those hot chicks we used to party with, back in high school, hasn't it Dave?"

It hadn't been hard to talk the others into the orgy. Which began that afternoon and lasted the rest of the week. In fact it kept going strong until Jake and Cindy left the following Tuesday. Of course, there were times when everybody except Jake was too worn out to do anything. Everyone including Jake himself was amazed at how fast he recovered and was ready for more. He thought it must have something to do with the nanites.

There was Suzy, a very petite dark skinned beauty with black hair and eyes, who had been Cindy's friend for years, and who was usually up for casual sex anyway. Then there was Karen who had apparently until now only ever had sex with her husband Arnie. Then there was Arnie himself who had always been the possessive type. So it was a bit surprising how quickly he not only accepted the idea of sharing his part time girlfriend Suzy, with the other guys but that he soon even seemed to enjoy watching his wife having sex with them.

Jake had told them all a little bit about how he had wrecked his pickup. He also told them he was thinking of accepting a job offer from the man he'd almost run over. He didn't tell them about the nanites. Or how severely he had actually been injured. What he did tell them was that the place was some kind of 'retreat' for the executives of a high tech company. He showed them the borrowed jeep's turbine engine. Though he didn't mention that it was actually burning hydrogen. Then he showed them some of the fancy electronics it had been fitted with.

He decided that he really should call the store and tell them he wasn't coming back. He was sure that even if he didn't take the job Steve had offered him, he was done dealing with the headaches of managing the store. The battery was dead on his cell phone. So he decided to use the com-unit built into the jeep's dash. Accordingly he punched the phone number into the keypad.

"Relay dialing call now," the voice of Hillside's computer sounded over the com-unit's speaker, then Jake heard the sound of a phone ringing.

"Hello?" Jill's voice answered.

"Jake here Jill," He began. "I'm afraid I totaled my truck trying not to run over some idiot who fell down into the road in front of me. Don't worry I'm OK. But the man was so impressed, that he made a job offer I don't want to refuse. He want's me to help him manage his exclusive corporate retreat. You wouldn't believe how much he's willing to pay me just to learn the job."

"Does that mean your not coming back?" Jill's voice sounded a little shell shocked as she interrupted him.

"I know it's short notice," Jake added. "But I'll be faxing in a letter of resignation to them. Do you want me to include a recommendation for you to get promoted to manager? Or do you think they'll be too mad at me for quitting on them for it to help?"

"Oh they will be ticked off alright," Jill's voice sounded more sure of herself. "But go ahead and recommend me. I mean who else are they going to get on such short notice? Besides, if they think I'm going to do it all for them like a good little dobe while they train someone new to step in and be my boss..." She left the rest unsaid.

Jake spent another five minutes making sure that Jill would be able to manage the store before he disconnected.

Chapter 6 Hillside

Neither Jake nor Cindy found much to talk about on the way to the place Steve had called 'Hillside'. That is not until he drove through the gate in the iron picket fence. It was mid afternoon when they got there on Tuesday. The gate had opened automatically at the approach of the company jeep. The gravel private way behind it forked almost immediately. To the left it wound it's way up and around the side of the hill and to the right it gently sloped down towards what looked like a large multi-doored garage.

"Steve said to use the front door," Jake broke the silence as he took the left fork.

As the road wound it's way up the hill Cindy noticed that it passed behind the garage she'd had a glimpse of from the fork. Or rather, she thought, it passed behind its roof. Which appeared to be anchored to the side of the hill just below them. Except, she noted, for the center where the peak of the roof extended high enough above the ground for a doorway to offer access to a short path leading to the road. Jake interrupted her thoughts by stopping in front of the door, to point out that the path leading from it continued up the hill on the left side of the road.

"That's the short cut to the house we'd be using if we'd parked by the garage," he said.

"No way you'd get me to walk up that," Cindy said as she looked at the steep path.

"Who said anything about walking?" Jake said. "They have some modified golf carts for that." Then he gestured ahead to where the road started to curve to the left, away from the garage. "Did you notice the shed over there near the curve? That's where they charge them."

Jake was still a little amazed at how much about Hillside he had learned in the few short hours he'd had before borrowing the jeep. Cindy hadn't noticed the shed as it was partially hidden by a few trees but now that she was looking she could see that it was on a slight angle to the road. It was about 20 ft long and about 6 ft wide. It's roof, she noticed, had an overhang that projected out another 6 ft on the side nearest to the garage. That overhang ran down the entire length of the shed. Then she noticed that under the roofs overhang, there were 4 odd looking vehicles, each with some kind of rack on the back.

Just then the door in the back of the garage opened and a short but obviously muscular man with reddish orange hair, wearing only a pair of cutoff shorts and a black armband, walked a bicycle out of the garage's loft. He casually waved at them as he rode the bike about 100 ft down a narrow connecting path and stopped next to one of the carts. Cindy couldn't help noticing the smooth way his muscles rippled as she watched him attach the bike to the rack on the back of the cart. She felt herself beginning to feel aroused and wondered what was wrong with her.

She had always been a little oversexed she thought. 'That' and her frustration level explained what had happened with Dave. Though she'd been surprised that Jake had so easily talked her into the wild orgy that had followed. Never mind the open relationship he had suggested they have from now on. Simply seeing a shirtless man go about his business had never used to be enough to turn her on. At least not so strongly as this. As she continued to watch him, the man hopped into the cart and drove past Jake's side of the jeep. Then he rapidly disappeared up the hill.

"I expect he'll be back in about 20 minutes or so if you want to wait for him," Jake remarked as he looked at her with an amused expression on his face.

"What are you talking about?" she protested. "Why would I want to wait for him?" As she looked into his eyes however, Cindy knew she wasn't fooling him. Nor was she fooling herself. "No, not really," she finally answered. Then she sighed and added, "I don't know what's wrong with me lately. If this keeps up I'll be afraid to go to the beach anymore."

Jake however knew exactly what was wrong with her. He hadn't wanted to believe Steve when he had tried to explain how his nanites would affect those around him. Or that in the absence of sufficient conscious control, they would take clues on how to make him happy from his subconscious mind. Thus every unprotected female anywhere near him would find themselves incredibly aroused by the nano-pheromones he'd been emitting. It really hadn't been fair to his friends at the campground. Though of course, he'd been too horny at the time to care very much about that. He wasn't quite sure how to take conscious control of it yet anyway. Nonetheless, he knew his friends really hadn't had much choice about the orgy he'd wanted. Evidently there'd been an effect on the guy's too. Arnie, who was normally possessive of his women had found himself actually wanting to watch both his wife and his mistress with the other guys almost as much as he had wanted a turn with Cindy.

Jake's nanites had begun to enhance and supplement his senses. So he had been as acutely aware of the faint aroma of her sudden arousal as even a dog would have been. Which of course had had an immediate effect on him. He found himself tempted to spend the next twenty minutes or so screwing Cindy right here where the maintenance man couldn't miss the show when he got back. He knew that she wouldn't have been able to resist his advance, nor would she then be in a state of mind to object to letting him watch the maintenance man take a turn. He was also pretty sure that Jess, wouldn't turn down the opportunity.

What he really wanted however, was to actually show the place to Cindy and it would be hard for her to notice much of it if their hormones kept this up. So instead he put the jeep back in gear and continued to drive up the hill while he began to wrestle with his subconscious. It took a several seconds of intense concentration, before he perceived that his nanites had begun building pheromones designed to calm down everyone's hormones. Thankfully this included his own. He wasn't sure how long he could keep this under conscious control. There were too many individual details in too many parts of his brain, that he had never even been aware of before, on which he was already focusing too much of his attention. He had however become aware that it was beginning to make a difference. So for now, all he could do about it was to try not to relax his grip on any part of it.

By the time their sexual tensions had faded, they had navigated the long curve of the drive. Then they could see the house which sat another 200 ft ahead on the right side of the gravel road. The large structure appeared to be built into the side of the hill. The building looked as tall as a modern four story building. Going by the windows however, it was a bit less than that. There were three tall windows evenly spaced on either side of the big double width door. A little bit above which there was one huge window, centered over the door. It was shaped like the top half of a wagon wheel with the spokes being the spaces between the nearly triangular panes of glass. Except that it was too short and too wide, to be half of the circular shape of an actual wheel.

The windows of the matching two story wings on either side of the central section of the building were somewhat smaller. The roofs of the wings extended a couple feet higher than the fenced in deck over the center section's roof. Set back about 10 feet from the front and outer edges of the central roof section and abutting the edge of either wing's roof were much smaller 3rd floor attic sections, that looked like someone had built a couple of log cabins on top of the main building. They couldn't quite see the top of the hill behind the 'house'. Though from what could be seen of it on either side of the place, the hilltop itself was slightly higher, though not by much.

To the left they had a great view of a winding river cutting through the forest below. Almost straight ahead Cindy saw a path that cut across the road and lawn to a patio like area beside the building. Just before that there was a paved driveway ending in a circle that looped around by the front steps. The gravel road itself appeared to curve to the left and begin going downhill a hundred feet or so after it intersected the path. Even as Jake turned into the driveway, Cindy saw the well muscled redhead riding a bicycle out of the sliding glass patio door which closed itself behind him as he rode down the path.

The massive front door looked like it was was made from a single piece of wood. It didn't look like it had ever been painted. Instead it had a faintly weathered look about it. As they got out of the jeep Cindy took stock of their general appearance. The matching blue jeans and black tee shirts she had insisted on still looked clean and mostly unwrinkled. She touched up her lipstick, slung her handbag over her shoulder and followed Jake up the steps. Just as they reached the top step, the door was opened by a tall casually dressed man with curly blond hair.

"Welcome to Hillside," he said. "I'm your host, my name is Steve Fontane. You must be Cindy?" Then without waiting for an answer he added. "You can call me Steve."

Next he stepped aside and they entered a huge room. As he shut the door behind them, Cindy noticed that it was about four inches thick.

"It might be best if I start by telling you a bit about the place," Steve continued. "Then I'll give you the 50 cent tour." After a slight pause while Cindy took in the sight of the waterfall at the other end of the enormous room, he continued. "We call this room the 'Great Hall'. You may notice the natural clean smell, or rather the lack of a smell, provided by the mist emanating from the water cascading over the falls. We divert water from an underground stream to supply our swimming pool, jacuzzi, and of course, the falls. The water flows through our systems only once before it rejoins the stream thus we have no need to sully it with chemicals."

"Please do take a minute or two to enjoy the view," he added a few seconds later with a kind hearted smile. "Just let me know when your ready."

Then Steve turned to Jake and spoke in a voice so soft that only someone with augmented hearing could detect it.

"You learn quick," he said. "I expected a need to use my nanites to generate a bunch of anti-pheromones. You must be overriding your subconscious. Not bad but at best, it's a temporary fix. Shall we see how long you can keep it up?"

"This place is amazing," Cindy said after a couple of minutes of wandering around the Great Hall, mostly spent staring at the falls. "It's hard to believe I'm indoors." Then after a few more seconds spent looking at the falls she added, "I guess I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

"Hillside, as you see it, was built by my company about 10 years ago," Steve began. "The building design was inspired by an old multistory lean-to like shelter that the former owner, an old prospector and hermit, had built over the entrances to the 'storm & wine cellars' that he 'dug' out of the exposed rock ledge near the top of this old hill. We use the place as a retreat. It provides a place where our corporate executives and those of some of our business partners can get away from it all, let their hair down and relax. Along with a few other guests such as yourself.

I'm not sure how much Jake has told you but this is a place quite removed from the normal pressures and constraints found in most of world. For example, we have a very relaxed dress code around here. Our guests and for the most part our staff can wear whatever they want. Or not, as the case may be. That is to say that other than the identifying logo that our staff are required to wear on an armband, headband or sash, there isn't a single article of clothing that we require."

"Yeah Steve, I told her that people can get naked whenever they feel like it here," Jake interjected.

"Hmm OK, but did you tell her about our restrictions on lewd behavior?" Steve asked.

"How could I?" Jake countered. "You never finished explaining it to me."

"Then maybe I better explain it now," Steve replied. "Generally, in most of the public areas, we do expect a certain standard of conduct. That basically says if someone decides to do something that we actually classify as sexual activity. They'd be better off going someplace just a little bit more private. Though the Jacuzzi area, certain parts of the grounds and sometimes even the pool, are exceptions. But in any case, if the possibility of running into nude people doesn't offend you Cindy, I'll get on with the tour. But I do need to know if I should skip those areas where we might run into something, ah, well lewd?"

It took a moment for Cindy to realize that Steve was waiting for her to answer.

"I've never exactly been offended by nudity Steve," she eventually said. "And after this past week, the only thing about lewd behavior that might bother me would be that I may just want to join in."

Steve led them back towards the front door. Then through a door to one side of it. Which led to a room with some tables by the windows to the left of the doorway. There was a dart board mounted on the cork paneled far wall and a well stocked bar to the right. One end of the bar was attached to the cork paneled wall almost directly below the dartboard. The other end of the bar stopped 3 feet short of the near wall. There were 5 wooden bar stools neatly spaced at the near end of the bar. There was an 8' x 12' green carpet covering the section of the otherwise bare hardwood floor, with one edge running along the chairless far end of the bar and ending at the wall next to the dartboard.

On the bar, in between the edge of the carpet and bar stools, there was a glass mug loosely filled with an odd ball collection of darts. Next to the darts there was a small sign proclaiming, 'House Rule: Darts may only be thrown at the target from the edge of the carpet. When nobody is on the carpet.' The only other things on the bar was a glass bowl half full of peanuts, a remote control and an old fashioned round door bell button that was mounted on the surface of the bar itself. There was a tinted sliding glass window in the wall behind the near end of the bar.

On the other side of the room there were a few tables near the windows with a couple chairs apiece. On the wall next to the door there was a very large flat screen TV. Which was currently quietly displaying a close up view of the artificial waterfall in the Great Hall.

"If you'd like a drink at any time, hard or soft, just ring the bell on the bar there." Steve said as he pointed at the button. "Someone will help you. Speaking of which, would you like something?"

"No, not right now, unless, well maybe some juice?" Cindy said.

Steve tapped the button. There was a single chime like sound.

"How about a tropical fruit punch?" He asked.

"Sounds great!" Cindy replied.

"OJ for me." Jake added.

A few seconds later a bald black man walked in. The man, who was whistling a very old tune called 'You Are My Sunshine', was wearing blue jeans, a red polo shirt, a black armband and a short dingy looking white apron.

"Make mine a beer." Steve said.

The man just nodded. Then still whistling and without waiting to hear what Jake & Cindy wanted, he quickly custom mixed a 10 oz tumbler of punch, poured another of orange juice and set them on the bar. As he worked Cindy noticed that the logo on the armband was a circle containing a white on black image of a waterfall flowing out of the front door of a building that otherwise resembled what this place looked like from the front. Except that the front lawn was portrayed as an abyss into which the waterfall flowed. Then she noticed that the waterfall looked a lot like the artificial one in the Great hall.

At this point the bald man, having reached the end of the tune as he poured a pint of beer from an unlabeled tap behind the bar, spoke for the first time.

"Hi, I'm Mike, the chief cook and bottle jockey around here," he said with a cheerful voice. "Enjoy your juice, do feel free to bring them with you. Just leave the glasses on any table in the building, we'll find them." By which time he had handed Steve his beer, wiped down the counter and poured the last of a jar of peanuts into the bowl on the counter. Mike walked behind the counter to the jar of darts. With a slow spin he pivoted on one foot 270° to the right as his left hand snatched a dart and casually threw it underhanded into the bullseye area about a half inch from absolute center. Before Jake or Cindy could think of anything to say, he walked out the door with the empty jar, whistling 'By The Light Of The Silvery Moon'.

Steve grinned as he looked at the puzzled look on Cindy's face.

"I suppose I should tell you that most of the public area's are monitored for security and other purposes most of the time," he explained. "I think that is how Mike knows what's asked for when he's not here. Mind you, I've never actually caught him tapping into the voice log. But he does have access to it and he never seams to get it wrong."

Steve couldn't help but grin slightly as he thought about how his nanites knew better than to include that piece of information in any status report on Mike's medical nano-augmentation systems. He hadn't actually informed them how much he enjoyed trying to spot the man accessing the log but they knew.

Steve walked over and picked a dart from the mug on the bar. Then he walked to the corner of the carpet near the tables and casually tossed it at the target. The dart sunk into the bullseye about an eighth of an inch from the absolute center. Turning to Jake, Steve said, "Your turn."

"Yeah, right!" Cindy said with a laugh. "The last time Jake threw darts he was lucky if he even hit the target two out of three times."

"OK," Jake said. "Lets test this theory." He counted the remaining darts and added, "There are 8 darts left."

Then he held the mug of darts in his left hand as he stood at the edge of the carpet by the bar. One at a time he rapidly plucked a dart from the mug, and threw it at the target. The 1st dart barely hit the lower left edge of the target. The 2nd was almost two inches from the upper right edge. The next 5 darts got progressively closer to the bullseye but the closest he came was an eighth of an inch outside it. Then Jake switched the cup to his right hand and threw the eighth and last dart left handed. It hit the dead center of the bullseye.

"Yup, less than a dozen throws," Jake acknowledged.

Cindy was speechless.

"The next stop is the theater," Steve said as he picked his beer up from the bar. "Bring your drinks."

Cindy followed his example but Jake chugged down the last half of his juice and left the glass on the bar. Steve lead them through the self closing door almost directly across the Great Hall from the bar. It opened onto one end of a hallway that ran parallel with the front of the building. There were windows on the right hand side of the hallway. There was a closed door half way down the left hand side and another at the far end. Steve opened the former. Four feet ahead of them was a wall that ran parallel to hallway. There were a few steps to the right and a short ramp to the left. Each ended at an opening at opposite ends of the wall. Both leading to the same raised platform. Which gradually sloped back down to floor level, accommodating 4 rows of 6 adjustable theater seats. The other end of the room consisted of a blank white wall. Behind the back row of seats there was an assortment of electronic devices including VCR and DVD players. Steve pointed at a telescoping lens in the middle, near the top of the wall.

"That's a computer controlled projection system," he said. "It can project images from any of the tape or disk players on the far wall. It can also project any channel we get on our satellite system. I'd put a movie on for you, but this tour is going to be long enough as it is. Shall we move on to the music hall?"

Jake simply said, "Yes."

Steve led them back to the windowed hallway. It wasn't until he opened the door at the far end of the hall that they heard the music coming from several flush mounted speakers on the walls and ceiling. It was an instrumental piece with a lively drum beat. The middle of the room was empty except for an athletic blond, wearing a grass skirt. Who was moving her body to the beat.

Both the far wall and the wall on the right had windows. There was a counter top under the windows with an assortment of electronic playback devices and musical instruments on it. The room appeared to be divided diagonally by the kind of furniture that ran along it's edges. Near the windows there were tables and chairs similar to the ones in the bar.

Along the other two walls were an assortment of comfortable looking recliners and loveseats. in the corner furthest from the windows was one distinctive looking leather covered chair. It almost looked like an antique. It had a high back with lightly padded, curved narrow armrests with carved wooden handles. Below the seat the long wooden legs were also made of carved wood. This was a chair designed for good posture rather than one you expected to sink into. The resemblance to an antique was dashed by the pockets built in to the leather covering on the sides of the armrests. As well as by the built in, partially recessed, narrow wooden trays mounted just below the armrest cushions.

The open space between the chair legs had just enough room for the hassock that was underneath it. Steve finished the last of his beer and set the glass down on one of the tables. Cindy did the same with what was left of her punch.

The dancer, still moving to the beat, walked up to each of them one at a time. Starting with Cindy, then Jake and finally Steve, she said the same thing to each one in turn.

"Hi, I'm Stephanie, I'm just tickled pink to meet you here today," she began. "By the way, who do I actually have the pleasure of meeting this time?"

As she said this her rhythmic motion became centered around body of the one she was speaking to at the time. She swayed back in forth with a curved motion. She lowered herself to a squatting position, while still swaying to the beat. Then she leaned slightly forward while standing back up. She timed her movement so that as she said the word 'pleasure', she managed to lightly brush against his or her chest with one of her exposed nipples. Then as she finished the question she stared into their eyes while she waited for an answer.

Cindy found herself blushing as she gradually realized that it wasn't by accident that Stephanie had brushed against her t-shirt covered nipple and that her black t-shirt failed to conceal the fact that her nipples were now almost as erect as the dancer's. She felt a little lost in the depths of Stephanie's coal black eyes but not so lost that she didn't notice the oval tattoo of some fiery ring between Stephanie's breasts. For the next two minutes the guys quietly watched the nearly naked dancer sway side to side. So close to Cindy that they had to look close to be sure that her nipples never quite touched Cindy's again. Finally Cindy found her voice.

"I'm Cindy," she said. Then on an impulse she surprised herself by adding with a grin, "But the pleasure was all mine."

Jake half expected it when Stephanie repeated the nipple brush when she danced her way through the same speech with him. When he found himself staring into her eyes however, he discovered that he was so turned on, that he wanted to get it on with this wild woman on the spot.

Suddenly Stephanie shifted the position and motion of her hips so that while her upper torso's swaying motion continued to swing her tits back and forth less than an inch from touching his chest, her hips were now rotating in such a way that her crotch began to rub against the tent that had formed in his jeans. Jake realized that he was generating nano-pheromones again. He tried and failed to get his hormones under control. He stood there helplessly as the dancer continued to rub herself against him. He felt Steve's anti-pheromones starting to counter his nano-pheromones but it wasn't working fast enough. He couldn't resist arching his back to press himself a little more snugly against her. Then Steve's anti-pheromones finally got the upper hand. Stephanie stepped back slightly, returning her rhythmic motion to the side to side swaying she had started with. It took a moment for Jake to realize that she was still waiting for an answer.

"I'm Jake," he said after clearing his throat. Then looking down at the large bulge in the front of his jeans he added, "Obviously, the pleasure was mine."

Stephanie made a sound like a cat's purr and shifted her attention to Steve.

She started the same routine with Steve but when she attempted to brush her nipple against his chest Steve suddenly reached out and grabbed her by the shoulders. His long arms holding her just far enough away that her nipples never got closer than an inch to his chest. Meanwhile he cut off her last few words.

"Same as it was the last time we met," he said. "My name is still Steve. And I think you've had quite enough 'pleasure' already."

"Maybe later then?" she asked in a suggestive voice.

Instead of answering, Steve released her shoulders as he took two quick steps backwards. Stephanie flipped backwards landing on her hands just long enough for her grass skirt to settle downwards, removing any doubt that she wasn't wearing anything under it. Then she flipped back to her feet, landing about ten feet away from where Steve had released her. She winked, and walked out the door.

Cindy was confused. She wasn't yet fully comfortable with the new open relationship that she now had with Jake. Nor with the idea that she could be so easily turned on by another woman. Even during the wildest parts of the campground orgy, she had pointedly confined her attentions to the men. Yet she knew that a few minutes ago she had wanted to get it on with this Stephanie. She would have shared the dancer's body with Jake and/or Steve but it was the dancer she had felt hot for. Then when Stephanie had ground herself against Jake, she had wanted to scratch Jake's eyes out. Not because he had so obviously enjoyed it but because she had wanted to be first.

"Who was that wild woman anyway?" she asked.

"Aside from her name which she told you," Steve explained. "Stephanie is to be Jake's physical education instructor, assuming he decides to accept the job."

"Phys Ed?" Cindy jealously retorted. "Just what kind of physical activity is she supposed to teach him? I think I better sit in on the lessons."

Steve was well aware of the ongoing battle between the nano-pheromones Jake was still emitting and his own anti-pheromones. The feedback he got from his nano-net indicated that it was likely that Cindy actually wanted Stephanie more than she wanted to keep her away from Jake. It also indicated that at least some of that desire would remain if all the pheromones stopped affecting her.

"A wide range of physical things Cindy," he said. "I'm sure you'd be welcome to sit in on 'some' of them if you like. But the lessons themselves aren't supposed to include having sex, if that's what your afraid of missing out on. I've no doubt however that she'd cheerfully add both of you to her social life. I can tell you from personal experience that she is a very hot blooded bisexual."

Cindy wasn't particularly happy with the idea that Steve seemed aware of her attraction to Stephanie. She was even less happy with the fact that she actually was attracted to her but she also didn't see any point in denying it.

"The next stop was going to be the library but all things considered," Steve said while pointedly looking at the bulges in both Jake's and his own pants. "I think we better make the next stop someplace we can get cold showers."

At which point Steve led the way to the back of the great hall. Then into the doorway to the right of the falls.

"I usually refer to this section of hallway as the coat room," he said as he pointed at the many hooks and cubbies that lined it. Then he pointed at the doorless opening into an obvious shower room at the other end of the hall. "We'll be going in there," Steve continued. "The auto-shower is designed to automatically rinse all the sweat and what not from everyone who walks in there. So I'd recommend leaving our cloths here. feel free to leave wallets, keys and such in any of the open cubbies. Nobody will touch them." Then he pointed at a large hamper against the back wall. "Anything you'd like to have laundered goes there. The lockers next to it contain some loose fitting comfortable clothing, a little like hospital greens but in assorted colors. So you needn't worry about not having anything to wear while your stuff is in the laundry."

As he talked Steve stripped and dropped his cloths in the hamper. When he turned to put his watch and wallet in one of the cubbies, Cindy got a good look at the biggest erection she had ever seen. She immediately knew that she wanted to ride it sometime soon. She was also sure that Jake would like to watch her do so. Yet somehow, even as both she and Jake stripped, she was also sure that at the moment, none of them wanted to do anything sexual. She was quite certain that neither of the boys actually wanted to do it just then, even though they were both still quite hard. She was still wondering why she felt so sure of that as they walked into the large shower room.

The water that sprayed them from multiple directions was pleasantly warm. Steve grabbed Jake by the arm and pulled him a few feet to one side.

Then Steve spoke in a firm voice.

"Compu-trol: cold showers for us boys," he said. "Actuate!"

Immediately the water pattern shifted so that the boys were getting theirs from different shower heads than the ones that were targeting Cindy. From the effect it quickly had on their boners and from the slight gasping noise Jake made, Cindy concluded that their showers must have abruptly become quite cold. Though hers was still pleasantly warm. She stepped towards the boys and extended a hand into one of the streams spaying them. As soon as her hand touched the cold water there was a click and suddenly her shower was so bracingly cold she screamed with surprise.

"I'm sorry Cindy," Steve said. "I should have told you that the house computer is always watching. I'm afraid it interpreted your reaching out to the cold water as a request for the same... Would you like me to override it back to warm for you?"

"Don't bother!" she said icily. "Is there any soap?"

There was another click and again her cold water was coming from a separate set of shower heads. This time however, her water included something that made rose scented suds.

"Good idea Cindy!" Steve said. Then he again used a firm voice. "Compu-trol: 60 seconds of massaging suds for all, then warm rinse for all. Actuate."

The suds in the water that the boys got had a light evergreen scent. All the water jets started pulsating. Then a minute later they were all treated to a warm rinsing mist. After a few seconds Jake stepped into the showerless area in the back corner near the doorway on the far side of the room from where they came in. Immediately Steve followed. Speaking in a voice so soft that Jake needed his augmented hearing to make out the words.

"If you think I just put us through cold showers for you to lead us into the jacuzzi room, you better think again," Steve said.

The water stopped as Cindy also stepped into the dry corner. Steve turned to face her.

"There is a large fancy jacuzzi pool in there that I'd prefer to save for a bit later," he said gently. "It's one of the places where you'd expect to find lewd behavior and I'd hate to waste the effect of the cold shower so soon."

Cindy was of two minds about that. She could see that even when he wasn't hard, Steve's cock was nearly a foot in length. She made up her mind that she was going to ride that monster cock sometime soon. Then she realized she'd just as soon wait until Stephanie could join them. Aside from that, for some reason she didn't quite understand, she realized that somehow she didn't quite feel like doing either one just now.

"Lead on then," she finally said after hesitating for nearly a full minute.

"Compu-trol: cancel exit rinse, air dry on. Actuate,"

Steve said just before he led them through a breeze of slightly warm air, that quickly dried their bodies. While more vigorous streams of somewhat warmer air dried their hair. When they were dry, except that Cindy's longer hair was still slightly damp, he led them back into the coat room. He pointed at one of the lockers.

"The house duds in that one should fit you Cindy," he said. Then he opened another and selected a forest green outfit for himself. "One of these ones should fit you fairly well Jake."

Jake selected a vivid blue set. Cindy opened the locker Steve had pointed at and picked out a hot pink set. That's when Cindy noticed that the tops all had a pocket with an image resembling the ones on the assorted Staff armbands, except that these images looked embossed into the fabric. She was surprised at how well she could see the details because there wasn't any change in the fabric color. When she ran her finger across it she could just barely feel the lines of the image.

"Tell me something Steve," Cindy asked as she dressed. "Why do you say 'computrol' when..." There was a rude sounding beep from a small wall mounted speaker. "you give orders to the house computer?"

Steve tucked his oversized pecker into the waistband of his green bottoms and finished pulling them up before he replied.

"That's how it knows I'm using it's voice command interface to instruct it Cindy," he explained.

She thought about that for a moment.

"But I didn't have to say 'computrol' for..." There was another rude beep. "it to add the soap," she protested.

"That's because unlike Steve, you don't have command authority to override critical things like the security system," Jake interjected with a chuckle.

"Exactly," Steve confirmed. "People who don't have command accounts are still allowed to request personal preferences like water temperature and shower suds or to change the music your listening to. But to prevent accidentally changing your shower temp again, I could set your access to the house computer to require a trigger word if you like."

"Yeah," Cindy said after a few seconds. "I think that'd be a good idea. But does it have to be 'computrol' or..." There was another beep. "Is that buzzer going off because I said 'computrol'?" There was yet another beep.

"You got it in one Cindy," Steve answered. He winked and added, "Your pretty and smart, I don't care what Jake says..."

Cindy glared at both guy's for a moment.

"Very funny... I think not!" she said, somewhat acidly. Then she continued in a more friendly voice. "You called it the house computer, could I use something silly like 'house do'?"

"Of course you can Cindy," Steve confirmed. "May I suggest however, that it's easier to be more specific in what you ask the computer to do, if it knows when your done talking to it. Should I also set a command closer, like what I use the word 'actuate' for." There was another rude beep.

"Malformed command not executed," a mechanical voice advised.

Then there was another beep.

"Obviously for your command closer, you want to use something you wouldn't ordinarily say," Steve continued. "What would you like to use?"

Cindy thought for a moment.

"How about that stupid phrase I've heard Jake use when a customer hands him exact change, 'done deal'?" she asked.

Without hesitation Steve instructed the computer.

"Compu-trol: set access for Cindy Kincade trigger equals 'house-do' closer equals 'done-deal'," he said. "Actuate."

"Next stop is the Library," Steve added two seconds later.

Then he led them back towards the front of the great hall and through the next to the last doorway on the left. There was a short hallway leading past the bottom of a wide circular staircase on the right. At the end of the hallway there was a single large door. When Steve opened the door, there was a slight hissing sound. Cindy noticed that the gentle breeze coming from the door felt a little cool in her damp hair.

"We keep the air in here very dry and fairly dust free," Steve explained.

They entered a large 'L' shaped room filled with an enormous collection of books. There were wooden bookcases along the outer walls that looked to be 10 feet tall. The upper shelves of which were reached by means of a couple of rolling ladders attached to a narrow track that divided the lower shelves from the upper ones four and a half feet from the floor. These were all hard cover editions. The ones to the right of the door they came in by, were obviously reference books. Directly in front of them were some freestanding magazine and paperback book racks and a pair of long narrow tables with a dozen assorted chairs.

A short distance to the left of the door was the inside corner that gave the room it's 'L' shape. What caught Cindy's eye however, was that just a couple steps after she walked around the corner she almost bumped into one of the rolling ladders. It was being used by the muscular redhead she had last seen riding a bicycle down the path just before Jake drove up to the front door. He was still wearing cutoff shorts but now he was wearing a colorful tie-dyed tank top. The black armband he'd been wearing had been replaced by a white one. He was getting a book from the top shelf. Cindy noticed that the denim pants his cutoffs had been made from had been a somewhat baggy style.

This was obvious to her because from her vantage point by the wall, next to the ladder she found herself gazing up into the gap between his leg and that of the material of his shorts. What she saw there made her regret that she hadn't taken Jake up on the offer he had jokingly made earlier about waiting for him to come back down the hill. He wasn't overly long but he had what looked to be one of the thickest cocks she had ever seen.

Suddenly Cindy wanted to get it on with him but just like it had been when she had realized that she wanted to wait a bit before jumping Steve's bones, she found that once again she didn't want to do it just yet. Slowly she realized that she was still staring up the man's shorts and had evidently been doing so long enough for him to notice. It was evident because his tool had begun to twitch and harden. Without quite looking away from his crotch, she widened her gaze and looked into his eyes.

"Y'see any thing ya like lass?" the man said with an obviously fake accent as he looked down into her eyes. Then without waiting for an answer he continued. "If you'd like a better look I'll gladly take me shorts off, don't ya know. But just now this here classic I was thinking of reading is getting just a bit heavy." Then as he slowly backed down the ladder until he was at eye level with Cindy, he added with a grin, "Me names Jess McNeil by the way. I'm the chief mechanic here at Hillside, n'what might your name be lass?"

Steve interrupted them.

"Her name is Cindy," he said. "But I'm afraid that you two will have to wait till later to get to know each other better. As just now I'm showing Cindy and her escort Jake, my new apprentice, around the place."

"Hi Jess I'm Jake," Jake interjected. "We sort of met in the jacuzzi room last week but I'm not so sure you got my name at the time as we were both a bit busy. I'm fairly certain Cindy would love that better view after the tour, if your going to be around that is."

Jess laughed so hard he almost fell off the last step of the ladder.

"Of course I'll still be around!" he said as he pointedly looked at Cindy's figure. Then he glanced down at the tent in his shorts before continuing. "There'd be no doubt of that Ya see, even if you weren't so kind as ta invite me. But I'm glad ta know Ya don't mind... Specially if Ya going ta be my boss."

"What do you mean 'going to be' Jess," Steve interjected. "Technically Jake's already your boss."

Jess turned to face Steve and spoke in the manner of a long standing debate between friends.

"Was 20 minutes ago perhaps," he said. "Will be again tomorrow when I'm back on duty, don't ya know? But when I'm on my own damn time, there ain't nobody me boss but me. And you'll note it's the white armband I be wearing at the moment."

"That's not what you told Stephanie the last time I saw her give you an off duty order," he rebutted.

The two men glared at each other with mock fierceness for half a minute before they both broke out laughing. Then Jess turned back to face Cindy.

"When your ready for that better look, try looking for me in the great hall," he suggested. "Where with any luck, I'll still be reading '20,000 Leagues Under the Sea'." With that he turned toward the door on the other side of the room and started walking away.

"Hey Jess, I don't suppose that's a braille edition you got there is it?" Cindy called after him. Jess turned back, shaking his head as he held the book above his shoulder, with a quizzical expression on his face. Cindy pointedly looked a little lower as she finished. "I'd like to try my 'hand' at reading the bumps."

Jess just smiled, turned on his heel and strode out of the room.

"I think it's time we moved on," Steve said. "Next stop is the recreation room."

Then he led them out the same door Jess had left by. This lead to another short hall. The door from the library was the only door on this side of the hall. Across the way there were two doors, Steve opened the one on the right. The walls of this room were lined with shelves full of various board games and a collection of card games. There were a couple of tables with chairs in middle of the room. One end of the room had a pool table. The other end had a ping pong table. Nobody was there and Steve didn't waste much time on it.

"Let me show you the computer study room next door," he suggested.

Then he led them back to the little hall and opened the other door. This room was full of desks, there were 9 of them in all. Two of them had multimedia PCs on them. One had a Macintosh computer. The other six had a kind of computer terminal on them instead. There was a table in one corner with both a small printer and a much larger one on it. Steve pointed at one of the terminals.

"These house computer access terminals are surprisingly easy to use and can do so much more than the regular PCs," Steve informed them. "That I'm surprised anybody ever bothers with the PCs. But unless one of you feel a pressing need to play a game, search the web or otherwise use them right now. I'd like to move on." When nobody objected, Steve continued. "I don't know about you but I'm getting a bit hungry and I'll bet Mike's got them serving something delicious in the dining room about now. Shall we go eat?"

Cindy hadn't even realized she was hungry until Steve suggested it.

"Actually, I'm starved!" she said. "Lets go, please."

Steve led them to the doorway directly across the Great Hall. He stopped and gestured at the doorway before them.

"That way lies the kitchen," Steve explained. "Which is not a place I'd recommend going while Mike is fixing to serve diner." Then with a gesture to the left, he continued. "The dining rooms are over there."

Steve led them through the next doorway into a large dining area with a dozen tables. The far wall was 4 feet tall with the space above it allowing a view through some large windows in another wall about 12 ft further away. There was an archway in the middle of the 4 ft wall. Where a few steps lead down to a stone floor 3 ft lower than that of the main dining room. Here there were only four tables. The windows offered a pleasant view of the river. Which flowed at the base of the hill. They were unusually tall custom windows that started 2 feet from the floor and curved four feet inwards near the top. Until they merged with the ceiling.

"The small dining room here was originally supposed to be a patio," Steve said. "However the view so captivated one of our research executives that she..."

Steve was interrupted by a dark skinned beauty with black hair and brown eyes, who had quietly walked up behind them.

"What have I told you about telling my secrets when I'm not there to defend myself Steve?" she said.

As she spoke all three of them turned to behold an imposing woman in a black unisex business suit.

"Ah but you 'are' here to defend yourself," Steve replied smoothly. Then turning to Jake and Cindy, he added, "May I present our Vice President in charge of research, Sandra Amlee. Sandra, this is Cindy Kincade and of course you met Jake here last week. He has decided to accept my apprenticeship offer."

"Good!" Sandra said with a smile as she looked thoughtfully at Cindy. "Then perhaps I'll get that rain check after all?"

Jake chuckled.

"It seems likely Sandra," he agreed. "But just now I'm more interested in some food."

"Why don't you sit here Cindy?" Steve said as he pulled back a chair from the nearest table. "The sooner we're all seated the sooner the food's likely to get here."

Cindy took her seat without comment. Sandra immediately took a seat directly across from her. Jake sat down beside Cindy. Then Steve took a chair next to Sandra.

No sooner had Steve sat down then Mike came in through a doorway Cindy hadn't noticed at one end of the patio like dining area. He was whistling some lively tune Cindy had never heard before. There was a cute green eyed blond in a short black dress with a white apron trying to keep up with Mike as they quickly removed the remaining two chairs from the table. By the time the blond had her chair out of the way, Mike was back with a tray of wine glasses balanced in one hand while he used the other to push a cart carrying a collection of cold beverages all nestled in a bed of crushed ice. The tune appeared to reach it's end half a second before the cart came to a halt in front of their table.

"It would appear that you four will have the dining room to yourselves this afternoon," Mike kindly informed them about half a second after the cart stopped.

Then as the blond returned with a push cart full of pump action hot beverage dispensers he seamlessly continued speaking.

"Let me introduce Erika," Mike said. "She will be your waitress this evening. May I suggest my handmade beef and cheese ravioli tonight? If your not in the mood for pasta, I can always toss a steak on the grill. Or if you prefer I've some nice fresh catfish."

There was only a brief pause before Erika picked up where Mike had left off.

"While your making up your mind about the main course," the friendly blond offered. "Can I get you a hot beverage? Or breadsticks? Or perhaps you'd prefer one of Mike's cold beverages."

At which point Mike stepped back in.

"I've got some home-brew, of course," Mike explained. "Red and white wines, champagne and even some homemade root beer. I've also got a jug of that fruit punch you liked Cindy. In any case, whenever you make up your minds about the food or drink just let Erika know. Meantime I've something in the kitchen that needs tending."

Then before anyone thought of anything to say, Mike whistled his way out of the room. After which Sandra was the first to speak.

"I for one will have some of Mike's fabulous punch," she said. "And as much as I love Mike's pasta. I just can't resist what he does to catfish. Now Cindy, I think we need to talk. I do hope you won't mind if I dominate your dinner conversation tonight. But there are some things you really should know."

"That's fine by me Sandra," Jake interjected. "Erika, I think I'll go with the pasta. And some of that fruit punch would be great."

Then he stopped talking and just looked at Cindy.

"While Cindy's making up her mind Erika," Steve broke the silence a few seconds later. "I'll have a cold one and of course, anytime Mike finds the time to stuff ravioli, I'll have a double helping."

Erika popped the cap off one of the home brews and handed it to Steve, then she poured a couple glasses of juice. Cindy noticed that Sandra exchanged meaningful looks with Erika as she was handed her glass of punch. Then it seamed to Cindy that Erika had an odd expression on her face as she handed the other glass to Jake. After which she turned to Cindy and smiled.

"Have you decided what you'd like yet Cindy?" Erika asked warmly.

Cindy decided to like Erika. So she looked squarely into her eyes as she replied.

"Yes I think I have Erika," she said in a warm friendly voice. "I'll have the pasta and I think I'd like to try the root beer. But you can skip the glass."

Even as Cindy stopped talking she heard Mike's whistling just before he burst into the room pushing another cart. Then as Erika handed a bottle of root beer to Cindy, Mike started dealing out plates that appeared to be overflowing with food. All four plates had a serving of broccoli florets smothered in cheese sauce. Sandra's plate also had a couple large pieces of breaded fish and a small pile of home-fries. The other plates each had a half dozen huge ravioli smothered in a chunky pasta sauce, over which was a layer of melted cheese. Except for Steve's, which barely contained a full dozen of the ravioli. Then Mike and Erika pushed the beverage carts against the wall a few feet away. By the time Erika had her cart parked next to Mike's, he was on his way out of the room with the empty food cart.

"If everything's OK, I'll leave you to enjoy your meal," Erika said as Mike's whistling faded away. "But I'll be back in a little while to see if you need anything."

Erika waited a moment to be sure nobody wanted anything right away. Then she quietly left the room. Sandra devoured a big bite of her fish before she started talking.

"Hmmmn I think Mike's the best cook I ever met," Sandra began. "Can I ask you something personal Cindy?"

Then while she waited for an answer she snatched another bite of her fish. On which she almost choked when Cindy replied.

"Sure, just as soon as you tell me about that rain check you wanted from Jake," she said.

"It's funny you should ask," Sandra replied. As soon as she had safely swallowed all the fish in her mouth. "Just remember that you did ask.

If you must know, a little over a week ago your man turned down my proposition. So I asked him if I could have a rain check on his fucking my brains out. My question is, 'Did you happen to notice that for the past week or so, that the sex life you share with Jake has suddenly heated up noticeably from whatever it used to be?'" Then she continued without waiting for an answer. "The reason I asked is because you deserve to know why everything heated up."

"It's actually a bit of a tale," Steve spoke up quickly. "You may find parts of it a bit hard to believe. But trust me it's all true. Perhaps we should start with Jake's accident. I'll not go into how it came about that I fell into the road in front of him. But when he somehow managed to avoid running me over, he lost control and crashed. Well he was hurt more severely in the crash than he has led you to believe. He almost died there. But as it happens we at Hillside have access to a secret medical marvel of technology. Have you ever heard of nanites Cindy?"

Cindy looked at him like he had three heads for a few seconds before she remembered where she had heard the word.

"Well yeah," she said. "I think one of Jake's science fiction movies used the word for some tiny robots being developed by a mad scientist that wanted to make an unstoppable super disease that would kill everyone except those he programmed them to spare. Hey wait a minute, your not making biological weapons are you?"

"No Cindy!" Sandra spoke up. "We go to great lengths to make sure our technology can't be used that way. In fact, that's one of the reasons why we don't even tell the government what our nanites can really do. I wish we could offer the medical benefits to everyone. But the truth is we can't. Although when someone is in the right place at the right time, we can sometimes help them.

In Jake's case he happens to have a rare combination of genetics and psychological factors that made him a suitable candidate to host what we call a nanosymbiont. That makes him very special to us."

"And we are here trying to explain it to you because your very special to Jake," Steve interrupted. "Seriously you must have noticed the change in your sexual desires since Jake got back to your friend David's camp."

"Jake's friend Dave you mean," Cindy corrected him.

"Well he certainly looked like a close friend of yours, that night Cindy," Sandra interjected.

"What do you mean 'looked like'?" Cindy replied.

"Well you see Cindy, when I pulled Jake out of his truck, I fed his ID data into our super computer," Steve spoke up. "Which quickly detected that his cell phone was located nearby. So I dispatched a camera drone, which found you, while you were sitting on a large rock in Mr Taylor's swimming hole. While he was doing something I'd call 'very' friendly between your legs. No, don't bother to deny it, we all saw the security video, including Jake."

As he spoke the surface of the table seamed to quiver for a moment. Then it was covered by a large video image of herself sitting on that rock with her head thrown back in what looked like orgasmic bliss as Dave's face was buried in her crotch. Cindy looked horrified at the idea that they all knew of her indiscretion.

"The surveillance drone also followed you into Dave's camper, Steve continued. "As it happens none of us are inclined to hold that behavior against you Cindy. Though I'll admit that it would have made things a lot easier for me if Jake had decided to dump you that night. But like I said, you 'are' very special to Jake, so here we are."

A puzzled expression crossed Cindy's face.

"Wait a sec," she said. "That night? But Jake didn't get there till late morning. You mean Jake knew Dave and I were busy screwing our brains out all night and he waited till morning to come and catch us?"

"Yeah I decided not to interrupt you and Dave, Cindy," Jake spoke up. "Truth be told I didn't want to be upset with you about that. Fact is I knew I'd never really have minded sharing you with my old buddy Dave. But I was already a bit upset with you for sneaking around behind my back." Cindy just looked at him, so Jake continued. "When Bill Stark relieved me at the store so I could come back this way, my wallet was out on the counter because I was paying for a candy bar. Bill happened to see your picture. He almost choked on his coffee.

He'd been bragging for months about a hot girl he sometimes got to party with who's name he thought was 'Betty'."

As Jake spoke the table top became an image of Bill Stark's drivers license. Cindy recognized the face as one of the few repeat dates she'd had on her nights out.

"But really, I already knew something was going on," Jake continued. "I also knew I wasn't always there when you needed me. So I guess I didn't try very hard to find out what. Funny thing was, the only part that really bothered me was that you were going behind my back to get it."

"But getting back to the change in Cindy's desires," Sandra spoke up. "I gotta ask if your familiar with the word 'pheromones' Cindy?"

There was a brief pause before Cindy found her voice.

"Isn't that some kind of scent a queen bee uses to control the hive?" she asked.

"Well yes..." Sandra continued. "But pheromones aren't limited to bees. And there's a little more to it than just a scent. Especially the kind that can be produced by the nanites that bonded with Jake here. He hasn't had time to develop a full rapport with his nanosymbiont. So the nanites take hints from his subconscious on how to please him. And the vitality he got from the repairs they made to his whole body is still new enough that it's like he has the raging hormones of a teenager. Which to be frank, makes him horny most of the time. So since his nanites are still listening to his subconscious, when he gets horny they send out these little nano-devices that work as human pheromones. Thus when he gets horny, so does everyone around him."

"You mean the orgy and all the extra wild and kinky sex I agreed to this past week was because he used some kind of high tech aphrodisiac on me?" Cindy demanded hotly.

"I'm sorry Cindy but I really couldn't help it," Jake replied. "Besides you were already horny enough to get it on with Dave."

"Oh cut the shit asshole," Cindy yelled at him. "It's bad enough you gotta find a way to turn me on whether I felt like it or not. But you just 'had' to make me have the hots for that fucking girl in the Music Hall!"

"Whoa!" Jake said. "'That', I didn't do. I got a handle on it on the way up the hill Cindy and I didn't lose control again until she danced up against me."

"In any case," Steve interjected. "It's because Jake cares about you and your feelings, that we are explaining all of this to you Cindy."

"Wait a minute," Cindy said. "If what you say is true, how come I didn't feel like having sex a little while ago. When I know damn well Jake was still hot to trot?"

"Well like Jake said, he's been trying to get a handle on it," Steve said. "And I've been helping to counteract the nano-pheromones that get away from him. Unlike Jake, I do have a full rapport with my nanosymbiont."

Cindy looked at Steve like she hadn't heard him right.

"OK so what ever this nano-freaky-shit is, your supposed to be infested with it too?" she asked.

"I wouldn't exactly describe it as an 'infestation' Cindy," Steve replied. "Jake's problem is that his, ahem, 'nano-freaky-shit' is still learning to understand him. Look I'm getting the impression that you don't believe us about the nanites. Let me show you something."

Steve extended his left arm over the table with the palm of his hand facing up. Then he subvocalized an instruction to his nanosymbiont. After a moment a small trickle of what looked like liquid metal began to ooze through the pores in his palm. No sooner had it formed a small puddle, than something solid began to rise out of it. Within a couple of seconds it had taken the form of an antique key. Steve held it out to Cindy.

"Please accept this nano-key as a token of welcome," he said. "It will open many doors for you."

Cindy reached out and gingerly took hold of the key like she expected it to be hot to the touch. In fact, it felt quite cool. It seamed to be made of solid brass.

"I meant that literally of course," Steve added. "If you try to fit it into almost any keyhole, it will reshape itself to fit the lock. What's more it's quite personalized. It will only work for you. In anybody else's hands it's just an old key"

Cindy was still a little skeptical but she thought that even if it was some kind of sham, Steve's demonstration was a heck of a trick. So she decided to play along a little. She reached into her handbag and produced her diary. She knew the tiny lock on it was mostly for looks but it did lock and more importantly it's keyhole was much too small for even the tip of the key to fit. Cindy pressed the end of the key against the little lock and was surprised to see the end of the key reshape itself into a smaller key that slipped right into the lock. Then she turned it and the lock snapped open.

"Well that wasn't much of a lock," she said. "But I have to admit it seems to work. I'll have to try it on a better lock later. Lets say for the moment that I believe you about the nanites. What now?"

"Now you finish eating before your food gets too cold," said Sandra. "Since I seem to have finished my catfish, I can tell you a few things while the three of you shut up and eat."

"OK I have to admit these ravioli are too good to let go to waste," Cindy admitted. "I guess I can listen while I chew."

Neither of the guys said a word as the three of them resumed eating.

"First you should know that I don't have a nanosymbiont," Sandra began. "But I am still something of a nanite expert. Though mostly I deal with a less advanced kind of nanite. I design special purpose nanites. Things like that key that Steve so flamboyantly created for you. I'd have used specialized tools to construct it from more abundantly available basic nano-material rather than waste Steve's personal prime nano-material on it. Of course I'd have had to spend ten minutes or so, setting up a nanite construction system with the specifications of the nano-key." She stopped speaking only long enough to down the last of her fruit punch. "Thing is Cindy you have potential. If you can deal with Jake's raging hormones for a little while, things will calm down a bit. Then you might even find our casual lifestyle fun. In any case, if you do decide to stay, I want you to feel free to ask me anything you want to know about nanites."

"I'd hold her to that offer if I were you Cindy." interjected Steve. "You may be aware that the job I offered Jake is to get paid to learn from me and my team. My team includes the general mechanical know how provided by Jess, the physical training embodied by Stephanie, as well as the nanotech expertise of Sandra. Who has told me that she can probably whip up a nano-pheromone filter that should help keep Jake from accidentally messing with 'your' hormones anymore. Which might be a good thing because something has come up. I need to make a small excursion. I'll be gone for a few months during which time, Jake will be learning so much from my team, that he'll be ready for what I can teach him when I return. I'm afraid that I'll be leaving tonight right after dinner."

"No fair!" Cindy complained. "Nano-freaky-shit or not, I was planning on jumping your bones later."

Steve pointedly looked her up and down before replying with a grin.

"Did you know that having a nanosymbiont is a little like having 'X-ray vision'?" he informatively queried. "Believe me, I 'like' your plan. But the purpose of my quest is important to me, so I'm afraid it will have to wait.

Nonetheless if your still here and still feel that way when I return, I'll gladly fuck you silly. I do however, need to leave, 'now'." The sound of Mike's whistling could be heard just before he entered the room pushing a cart full of pies. Steve eyed the pies for a couple of seconds.

"Well, maybe right 'after' desert," he amended.

Chapter 7 After Diner

"Well, I guess that's that," Steve said when they were done with desert. "Would you mind giving Cindy the rest of the 50 cent tour, Sandra?"

"Oh not at all Steve," She replied. "In fact I'd like that."

"Good!" Steve said as they all stood up to leave the dining room. "They've seen most of this floor, aside from the Jacuzzi and kitchen areas. You'll probably find Jess reading a book in the great hall. I expect he wouldn't mind tagging along for the rest of the tour."

When they stepped into the great hall, Steve quickly disappeared into the doorway to their left. Jess was sitting in a chair near the falls. Sandra walked up to him and said something that Cindy couldn't hear. He nodded as he closed the book he'd been reading. Then he stood up and put the book on the nearest table.

"Sure and I'd love to tag along with your little tour don't ya know," Jess said with a wink. "I'll just fall in right behind Cindy."

"I think maybe I'll show you the quarters we've assigned to you and Jake next Cindy," Sandra said. "Then, since guest suite number four is unoccupied this week, I'll show you how the visiting executives live."

"That's okay by me," Cindy said.

"The elevator's this way," Jake chipped in as he led them through the door Steve had left by.

When they stepped into the elevator, Jake pushed the button for the third floor. The elevator opened onto a short hall with a large window with a view of the roof deck on one end and next to it a glass door along the same side wall as the elevator, which in fact opened onto the roof deck. There were a couple of benches running along the length of the wall opposite the elevator. On the other end of the hall there was a locked door with another keypad and a small speaker grill with a palm reader next to it. Sandra punched in a 10 digit code and placed her hand on the palm reader. There was a beep.

"Identity recognition sequence ready," a mechanical voice emanated from the speaker.

"Cindy, would you mind placing one of your hands on the reader?" Sandra said. "Then say your, name and switch hands."

"You mean like this," Cindy said as she put her left hand on the reader. "I'm Cindy." then she switched hands. There was a beep.

"Partial identification match found," the mechanical voice said. "Please verify name is 'Cindy Kincade'. If this is correct, please press one. Otherwise please press two."

Cindy pressed one on the keypad. There was another beep.

"Access authority established," the mechanical voice said. "Would you like to enter at this time?"

"No shit!" Cindy said in an irritated voice.

"Response is ambiguous," the computer replied. "Supposition: Expression was sarcasm. Negative word form implies positive response. Please confirm."

Instead of answering, Cindy tried pressing one on the keypad.

"Supposition confirmed," the computer said. "Access granted."

There was a click and the door swung open.

"Good job!" said Jess. "But how did you know that you could use the one on the keypad to confirm that you wanted to enter?"

"You ever try to call some company about a bill?" Cindy replied. "Actually I didn't think it would work but if I said anything else, I figured I'd need to confirm whether or not I really wanted to have sex with the damn computer."

"Oh don't let the house computer get to you Cindy," Sandra spoke up. "It really is trying. But to do better, it does need to learn your ways."

"Welcome to our private cabin Cindy," Jake said as he stepped inside and turned to face them.

"The master bedroom is over here," he said as he gestured to his right.

They followed him through a doorless entryway into a large bedroom with the far wall being almost entirely devoted to a pair of large windows and the sliding glass doorway between them. Through the glass they could see a narrow roof deck walkway that separated them from the down slope of the main roof below. Beyond that there was a panoramic view of the forest and river below. In the distance it looked like the river emptied into a lake. The rest of the room consisted of a large closet, some built in draws and shelves along with a huge bed. There were also some mirrors on the bedroom ceiling.

"They tell me that in the cabins, room service is only available on request," Jake said. "That is to say if we want them to make the bed, we will have to ask. Likewise if we want some of Mike's cooking delivered to us. On the other hand, if we should want to do some cooking for ourselves there's a kitchen area on the other side of the, ah, I guess I'll call it a living room."

Jake led the way back past the front door and into a large room where the log construction of this so called cabin on top of the main building was everywhere. There was a kitchen area with appliances and a table with four chairs on the far side of the big room. Jake pointed at a room at one end of the kitchen.

"That bathroom has the only internal door in the place," he said.

The big room between the kitchen and the bedroom didn't have a ceiling. Here you could look up and see the wooden underside of the roof which had its high point near the wall between them and the roof deck area. On either side of the big room you could see a loft area. A small storage loft over the kitchen, and a larger sleeping loft over the entry hall and about half the bedroom beyond it. The lofts were connected by a walkway that ran along the high part of the roof where the headroom was the greatest. Just before the walkway reached the sleeping loft it crossed the top of the ladder like stairs.

The stairs ran down into the main room along the wall between the big room and the front entry hall. In the middle of the big room there was a stone lined platform with an unusual wood stove which resembled an antique 'potbelly' stove, complete with a flat cast iron cooking surface. It also had a window in the door that would allow a clear view of the fire. The exhaust stove pipe ran under the middle of the loft walkway and through the wall to the outside. Under the stove pipe there was a rack that held nearly half a cord of precut fire wood. The wall on the far side of the kitchen didn't have any windows. Aside from the huge panoramic view in the master bedroom the other walls had only a few of them.

The wall that supported the low end of the roof had only a total of four windows. Two of those were in the big room. Between them there was a large flat viewing screen that made for an impressive home theater. The taller wall that separated them from the roof deck also had only four windows. One of which was in the front entry hall way. Two of the other three were in the big room. The last was the kitchen area's only window. There were two couches in the big room A full sized one that also served as a separator between the big room and the kitchen area. The other was a love seat that was parked under the stairway to the loft.

"As you can see Cindy," Jake explained. "Along the baseboards of most of the walls there are some recessed vents. They are actually connected to the building's central heating and air conditioning systems. But they only kick in on request. Or if the computer thinks the water pipes are in danger of freezing"

In the middle there was a coffee table on which someone had placed Cindy and Jake's duffel bags from the back of the company jeep. They had also left the cloths they had left in the hamper when they had their shower earlier. They were fresh, clean and neatly folded.

"I thought you said room service didn't come in until we asked them to Jake?" Cindy asked.

"So he did," Sandra interjected. "But that rule wasn't in effect until both of you had completed the access identification sequence.

Before that I was still able to request this for you. In the future clean laundry will, by default, be left on the bench just outside the front door. And incidentally, if you'd like, I'll have them set a laundry collection hamper just outside your door as well."

"Yeah that would be OK," Cindy said. "But right now I'd feel more comfortable in my own cloths"

As she said this Cindy started to pull off her house duds but Jake quickly intervened.

"Please do that in the other room Cindy," he requested. "Not that I think anyone would really mind watching you strip. But Steve isn't here and I don't want to lose control of my nano-pheromones just now if you don't mind."

"OK Jake if you say so," Cindy said. "But I'm gonna give Jess here a 'raincheck' on the free show he's missing."

Then she took her black tee and jeans into the bedroom. About a minute later she was back in the main room. Jake, still wearing his blue house duds, led the way to the back door in the far corner of the kitchen. It opened into a screened and roofed section of the roof deck.

Across the way there was another log cabin like structure that looked to be a mirror image of the one they had just left.

"That's Steve's quarters over there," Jake said. "The only real difference between our 'cabin' and his is that where we have the elevator, he has the main staircase."

Then he pointed to the left, where in the middle of the screen wall there was a door opening onto a ramp. The ramp led from the edge of the deck to a point, just a few feet away from the nearby crest of the hill.

"The path at the other end of the ramp there leads to a secure gate in the fence at the top of the hill," Jake explained. "On the other side of the gate, there's a path leading to a small upper parking lot. Located at the end of a dirt access road that winds it's way down the other side of the hill and into the next valley. It also intersects with a hiking trail that leads towards Dave's camp."

"I think this would be a good time to check out one of the visitor suites on the 2nd floor," Sandra said.

She then lead the way though the outer door to the hallway with the elevator. When they reached the second floor Jess led them to the balcony overlooking the great hall. They stood there for a moment enjoying the view of the falls. Then Sandra led the way to 'suite 4' which opened to her palm print.

Inside they found a luxury accommodation consisting of two large rooms and a bath. It was plusher than the roof top cabin. The decor was more modern. The bed was a bit bigger and the tub was a whirlpool bath, built for two. On the far wall of the plushly furnished living room there was a small counter with a sink, a microwave and a coffee maker. Under which there was a mini fridge. In comparison to the roof cabin it lacked a fully equipped kitchen area, the wood stove and of course the lofts.

"In all there are six of these guest suites here at Hillside," Sandra said. "Actually though, there's not much to see. I think the roof cabins are more interesting... If your ready to move on, I think I'd like to show you a delightful private area we call the side yard."

Jess brightened visibly at the prospect.

"This way!" he said as he quickly led the way to the back of the building where the top of the back staircase was located. "This staircase is actually cut from the stone ledge behind the building," he added as he started down the stone steps. "These steps go all the way to the basement level. But about half way to the first floor, there's a short tunnel leading to the side yard."

They followed him to a small landing in the middle of the flight of stairs. Where there was a door which Jess opened and led them into a dim tunnel carved out of solid rock. On the wall he turned an antique rotary switch and a few light bulbs brightened the tunnel somewhat. A few feet down the tunnel there was an opening on one side.

"Steve told me that's an old storage area carved out of the rock by the old hermit who used to own this hillside," Jake spoke up.

"Yes Jake, that's what I've heard as well," Sandra agreed.

They continued down the tunnel for another twenty feet where it turned to the left. The tunnel ended in a rocky cleft in the side of the hill. There was a small trickle of water coming out of a small crack in the rock wall. It splashed down to the ground where it formed a very small brook with a well worn path running alongside it. They followed the path and soon it led to a large meadow on the side of the hill. Apart from the meadow this part of the hill was otherwise very steep. It would be very difficult to climb up or down without ropes. The meadow itself was a delightful spot however and right smack in the middle of it there was a blanket spread out on a large mostly flat rock.

On the blanket they saw that Stephanie was sunbathing. Cindy couldn't keep her eyes off the evidence that Stephanie shaved more than her legs. In the absence of Steve's stabilizing influence, Cindy felt her attraction to Stephanie stronger than ever. The blond dancer sat up and smiled.

"The sunlight feels delightful on my bare skin," Stephanie explained. Then looking into Cindy's eyes she seductively caressed her own breasts. "Why don't you all join me in a little frolic?" Then still looking deeply into Cindy's eyes Stephanie lifted her left breast and seductively licked the nipple.

Cindy found the sight so erotic that she pulled off her tee shirt. Then she unfastened her jeans and let them fall to her ankles and stepped out of them. Then she proceeded to kneel on Stephanie's blanket.

"You've neglected the other one," Cindy said before she proceeded to kiss Stephanie's right nipple.

This erotic sight was too much for Jake's self control. In a matter of seconds he was producing such a stream of nano-pheromones as to make an orgy inevitable. Eventually however, they began collecting their scattered cloths. Though nobody bothered to put anything back on.

"I think it might be a good idea if we drop these things in a hamper by the swimming pool," Sandra said. "Then maybe after a refreshing swim, perhaps we'll continue the tour with the staff quarters above the garage."

They returned through the tunnel to the stairs, which they took to the basement. About one third of the way down, there was a wide landing with an open doorway to the first floor pantry where they saw Erika. She looked at them and smiled.

"You look like you've all had a bit of fun," she said.

"Sure did," Stephanie said. "Next time you should join us."

Then without further conversation they continued down the last flight of stairs to the basement. The stairs ended at a small poolside area which could only be accessed by the stairs and/or by swimming in the large crescent shaped pool. They dropped their cloths in a hamper to their left as they exited the stairs. To their right the wall was covered in blue tinted mirror like tiles. Against it there were a few lockers and cubbies like the ones behind the waterfall upstairs.

Behind the hamper the wall was an uneven granite mass that extended forwards about ten feet before it reached the edge of the pool. On the edge of the pool, about half way between the granite wall and the tiled one, there was a diving board.

To the right of the door to the stairs the wall curved slowly around until it reached the edge of the pool. Mounted on the middle of the curved wall there was a single large shower head with a pull ring.

"Lets keep the side yard out of the pool filters," Jess said. As he walked over to the shower and tugged on the ring.

The resulting spray lasted about half a minute. When it stopped he quickly walked the length of the diving board and did a cannonball into the pool. The rest of them took turns doing the same except that Jake dove in to the water so cleanly, that there was hardly a splash. Then Stephanie did something like an aerobatic cartwheel. Somehow landing on her hands at the end of the diving board. From which she bounced over the water and then somehow dove in with even less disturbance to the surface than Jake.

Sandra simply used the ladder next to the board to step down into the water. Cindy was the last one to use the shower. She noticed it was fairly warm. Then she followed Sandra's example and gently climbed down into the water.

"You know I was having so much fun back there," Cindy said to Jake. "That I almost don't mind knowing your nanites were pushing us girls further than we would have otherwise gone."

"Now Cindy," Jake shot back. "I told you before that I wasn't responsible for your attraction to Stephanie."

"I know that Jake," Cindy said. "But until you got heated up, I hadn't thought of Sandra that way. And now that you've calmed down, I don't feel sexually attracted to her. Besides I don't think she usually likes to get it on with girls."

There was an icy edge in Sandra's voice when she spoke up.

"Cindy's right," she said. "I don't like having sex with girls! At least I don't when I'm not under the influence of nano-pheromones."

"Steve did warn us that you would have trouble controlling this for a while Jake," Jess spoke up. "We could have taken a vacation. But all of us decided to risk the effects."

"Like I said Jake," Cindy explained. "I'm not all that upset about it. But it doesn't seem fair that your nano-pheromones cause girls who don't like girls to get it on with girls. When you guys didn't wind up going there."

Both of the guys looked real uncomfortable at the idea.

"I won't say I'm sorry that I don't like guys that way Cindy," Jake said. "I just don't."

"I gotta say I'm real glad you don't like guys that way Jake," Jess said. "Cause I don't think I'd have liked that."

"Actually it's my understanding that a strong heterosexual preference is one of the characteristics that the nanites appear to prefer," Sandra explained. "As a matter of fact, I'm fairly sure it was actually Jake's heterosexual desires that caused his nano-pheromones to override my strong heterosexual orientation so much that I actually desired to get it on with other woman... You see, Jake is strongly attracted to girls. So when he loses control some of his nano-pheromones are likely to cause everyone else around him to feel attracted to girls. Including any gay men and totally straight girls."

"But if that's true, how come I didn't want to get it on with Sue or Karen last week at Dave's camp?" Cindy asked.

"Probably because whenever the process isn't fully under control, there are a few random factors involved," Sandra replied.

"If I understand you Sandra," Jake inquired. "If it was one of you girls who were just learning to control a new nanosymbionce, instead of me. I might have actually wound up wanting to have sex with Jess?"

The very thought was making him feel a little sick.

"Yes that could have happened," Sandra said.

Jake just shuddered.

"In that case I really am sorry I did that to you," he said. "Though I'm afraid I can't honestly say I'm sorry that I enjoyed it.

But if I'm really screwing with peoples minds so badly as to change their sexual orientation, then I need to find a way to keep it from happening again!"

"I know you didn't do it on purpose Jake," Sandra said with a little less ice in her voice. "So I will forgive you... Eventually."

"Thanks! But how do I get a handle on it?" Jake asked.

"Fortunately for all of us, mature nanosymbionts and the kind of host they choose to bond with alike, generally find this kind of manipulation of peoples minds distasteful," Sandra explained. "It shouldn't take more than a year for you and your developing symbiont to, as you say, get a handle on it."

"A year! That's much too long," Jake asserted. "There must be something I can do now..."

"If you feel strongly enough about it Jake," Sandra said. "Then you may be able to help me build some nano-filter devices to prevent it from having so strong an effect on us. We can start on it first thing in the morning if you like."

"If that's the best we can do about it, then consider it a date," Jake replied.

Eventually they got out of the pool on the other side where the elevator and the rest of the basement was accessible. There was another shower on this end of the pool. Along with another set of lockers, cubbies and a hamper.

"Jess, would you mind taking over as tour guide?" Sandra asked. "It will take awhile for me to set up my equipment for tomorrow."

"Not a problem," Jess said with a nod.

"Then I guess I'll see you in the morning Jake," Sandra said. "Come by my lab around eight. It might be a good idea to bring Cindy with you. I'm sure Jess will tell you the best way to get there." Then she waved at all of them and still naked, headed for the elevator.

As Sandra stepped into the elevator, Jess pointed at the open area beyond it.

"There's on odd collection of old furniture and what not down here," Jess explained. "But if you look to the left you'll see a collection of pipes and conduits coming through that big grill in the wall. That's where we pump in the central heat and air conditioning from the main power plant attached to the garage. A bit further down on the right there's a charging room for the four wheelers we use to go up and down the hill."

"You mean those modified golf carts?" Cindy asked.

"Yeah that's what their design was based on," Jess replied. "But we don't actually have a golf course here at Hillside so we tend to refer to them as four wheelers, go carts or sometimes just carts." Suddenly Cindy giggled.

"Whatever happened to that phony accent of yours anyway?" she asked.

"OK you caught me," Jess said. "But with a name like McNeil I just have to fake it once in a while..." Then he added, "It helps me with the one night stands don'cha know."

"Oh, so all you wanted from me was a one night stand?" Cindy teased.

"Well actually, I was hoping for several one night stands," Jess replied with a wink. Then he tried to shift the topic back to something less dangerous. "It wouldn't have mattered much if I'd been born and bread in Dublin though. We get so many folks from distant lands here at Hillside that Steve took some measures to prevent language barriers.

There are some 'house' nanites that sort of serve as a universal translator. One of the side effects is that even natural accents fade very quickly here."

"Steve didn't mention that side affect to me," Jake said. "But he did tell me the house can even automatically translate some nonhuman languages."

When they finished talking, Jess selected a black set of house duds and dressed quickly. Jake selected a vivid blue set again. This time Cindy picked out a pastel shade of purple. Stephanie meanwhile donned a red top. Which covered her body down to about three inches below her crotch. Then she dropped the matching bottoms in the hamper. As she did so she noticed a quizzical expression on Cindy's face.

"I've grown used to having a breeze down there," Stephanie explained. "Sometimes I'll choose to wear a shirt but never pants."

When they were all as dressed as they were going to be, Jess led them across the large basement area and into the charging room. He disconnected one of the carts from something that looked more like a hose than an electrical cable.

"I take it were going for a ride Jess?" Stephanie asked. Then she continued without giving him a chance to answer. "I'm driving!"

Next she quickly hopped behind the wheel of the cart. As she sat down, the bottom of the top she was wearing rode up just enough to expose her bare crotch.

"Hop in," she added.

Chapter 8 Spacebound

Steve Fontane took the elevator to the hanger level. The security system had already identified him on the way down so his personal star shuttle was already in the standby cradle. As he stepped into the embarkment chamber, Steve's clothes began to morph into a form fitting body glove with attached life support systems. The translucent blue material did little to hide his anatomical details as his body's own natural form was slowly restored by his internal nanites. His blond hair gradually became a pale shade of blue and his skin color returned to a vivid shade of violet. Yet for all that, the changes were only superficial.
According to the guild's database, there is strong evidence that each one of all the 'human' species so far discovered, had evolved separately on each one's own native home world. Yet the genetic profiles of 99.9 percent are similar enough to interbreed. The part of his genetic code that was responsible for his unusual pigmentation was the only significant difference between his racial genetic profile and that of the so called 'galactic average' human profile.

This fact was related to his personal quest. He longed to find proof that the origins of all known humans had been at least altered by contact with an ancient star faring species known as the 'Kindred'. He also believed that the Kindred themselves still existed. Despite the fact that all of the, extremely rare, traces of the Kindred's presence that had ever been discovered, were all decidedly quite ancient. His 'Quest of quests' was to actually find them.

To the artificially intelligent control system that ran Hillside's systems he now referred to himself by the honorific title he used within the guild.

"Questor request," he commanded. "Run a full diagnostic and prep my shuttle for an extended flight."

"Certainly Questor," the AI's mechanical voice said as a shimmering color shifting glow enveloped the shuttle.

The use of personal names among the nanosymbionts of the guild is so rare as to be considered nonexistent. Though there are a few among them who are unofficially referred to by a specific, generally honorific, designation by virtually all guild personnel and sometimes even the public at large.

These honorific designations were usually bestowed upon them by their fellow nanosymbionts. 'The Questor' was one of those few. He had been so labeled because of his devotion to his quest to find the Kindred. His quest had become so famous that the vast majority of humankind began referring to all of the guild's nanosymbionts as questors. They did this so persistently that the nanosymbionts themselves decided to adopt the term as a generic label that didn't differentiate between the nanosymbiont itself and the host-mind it had bonded to.

The Questor was a trifle worried about leaving his new apprentice's training in the hands of the non-symbionts at Hillside. There was only so much they could teach him but they were a good team and he should be back in a few months to personally resume Jake's training.

In the meantime he was going to followup on the report of an unexpected discovery he'd received from a long range message drone. He would be within communications range while his shuttle accelerated to the minimum transition velocity. Once the temporal inverter kicked in however, he would be out of reach.

He would then be enveloped by an inverted temporal dilation effect peculiar to the guild's stardrive. Thanks to which the time distortion imposed as he approached the speed of light would be inverted. While he would experience every minute of the time it would have taken for a beam of light to reach his destination, to the rest of the universe his journey would be practically instantaneous. With the only trace of his passage being the total disappearance of the particles his drive systems would scavenge along the way to power the trip with.

Inside the inverse temporal dilation field he'd have to while away millions of years of subjective time to get to the physical coordinates of the forest world XenDar. Where he'd heard that some unexpectedly pristine artifacts had been discovered. His quest for the 'Kindred' was after all, worth enduring such long periods of boredom.

"Shuttle prep sequence is complete," the mechanical voice of Hillside's AI interrupted Questor's musings.

"Questor request: position shuttle for boarding," He instructed.

Immediately the standby cradle positioned the shuttle in front of a large door at the far end of the chamber. Questor casually stepped up to the rear end of the shuttle where an airlock door opened upon his approach. He stepped inside.

"Welcome back Questor," the feminine voice of the shuttle's AI greeted him. "All systems are operational."

"Initiate launch sequence," Questor commanded.

The door opened revealing a cylindrical chamber three times the size of the shuttle. The cradle extended into the chamber and lowered the shuttle into a shallow depression in the center of the chamber floor. Then the cradle's grippers released the shuttle and the cradle retracted. The door closed and the chamber quickly filled with water.

His shuttle was heavy enough not to float until it's gravitational optimizer engaged and reduced the grip of the local gravity well. Then the door at the far end of the chamber opened, revealing a dimly lit tunnel. The shuttles thrusters gently pushed the shuttle into the tunnel. A few moments later a large boulder on the bottom of a certain mountain lake was lifted up from the lake bed by a pair of telescoping cylinders, that were concealed beneath it, revealing the other end of the tunnel. This remained open just long enough for the shuttle to enter the lake.

Questor's shuttle was equipped with sensor systems that made it easy to find a part of the lake far enough away from the assorted boats on it, to insure that the active stealth systems would be sufficient to avoid detection. His shuttle's gravitational-optimizer provided sufficient buoyancy to quickly lift the shuttle into the upper stratosphere. The shuttle's AI automatically selected a few of the nearest stars in the nighttime sky to lock onto with the gravitational optimizer and enhance their gravitational influence on the shuttles mass while further reducing that of the Earth and also that of Sol itself. A few subcycles later Questor was far enough away from the planet for Earth's gravity well to no longer be a significant factor as he used his shuttles transduction thrusters to begin accelerating to the transition speed that his shuttle required to safely engage the guild stardrive.

The transduction thrusters used the gravitational optimizer to pull in hot and cold particles from the solar and cosmic winds. It scavenged all potential energy from the charged particles as it converted most of their 'mass' to additional energy. The remaining particles were carefully ejected at sufficient relativistic velocities to provide a disproportionally massive thrust factor. To avoid a detectable interaction with the Earth itself and/or any other objects within the solar system, Questor took care to direct the particle stream away from all such things. When he reached sufficient distance and velocity without having received any emergency messages about Jake from his team. Steve reasoned that Jake's interactions with the rest of Hillside's on-site personnel was within the anticipated range his team could deal with.

At which point Steve locked away his very awareness of his own existence within that of his nanosymbiont, who engaged the temporal inverter. It was here in the seemingly endless eons of relative time that the Questor endured within the temporal inversion field, that his pseudo-self, his nano-network, became the primary consciousness within him. It's machine nature absorbed the boredom that would have consumed it's hosts will to live. It kept it's host's memory updated with reports that emphasized any details that it's host was likely to find interesting. It 'liked' it when it's host's own natural mind became roused enough to share some of the long otherwise lonely experience with it. Thus it became proficient at finding any facts that would interest the host-mind that it had based it's own emotional algorithms on.

Whenever the host-mind bothered to care about anything the Questor was not only able to feel his host's emotions but also got a chance to validate and/or adjust the algorithms as needed to maintain the over all health of the nanosymbionce. When the host-mind is not so roused, it must be kept alive with dreams. Dreams that needed to be enhanced by virtual reality simulations which the Questor let trickle into it's host-mind's subconscious.

Questor guided the shuttle along a winding path where it could gather sufficient energy with it's particle collectors to power the trip. A nanosymbiont endures the tediousness aeons of the journey as few other sentients can, all so that it can eventually arrive at virtually the same moment in time as it had departed.

The temporal inversion field collapsed and the star shuttle's gravitational optimizer manipulated the relative efficiency of various gravitational fields to gently decelerate to a relative velocity closer to that of it's destination. Then Questor awoke the host-mind. Sublimating it's awareness once again to Steve's own. As he woke, Steve realized that at long last, he was approaching his destination. Steve began a series of passive, reconnaissance scans of XenDar. It appeared to be unchanged since the artifacts had surfaced. He didn't need to review any data on local customs or languages.

Questor had used the virtual reality sequences as a sleep learning technique to implant such details in his mind. He did however think about some of the less common details. Such as the unusual way the colonists tended to name things by merging two or more descriptive words. The fact that it was one of the few colony worlds that had been successfully settled without the guild's help. He also thought about the bazaar giant tree colonies that consisted of a double symbionce between two kinds of plant life and one that was technically an animal life form.

No one observed his arrival when he touched down on the planet. Nor did anyone perceive the hidden 'nest' he built for his shuttle under a rocky outcropping on the crest of one of the few hills tall enough to stick up above the tops of the huge trees that dominated the lowlands. Steve instructed his shuttle to form a maintenance cocoon. A few minutes later, Steve walked upon XenDar. He had clothed himself in nano-morphic fabric. He brought an unusual looking walking stick composed of some particularly high grade nano-morphic material. It also contained a massive power charge. His pockets contained a number of useful things. Most of which were actually nanomorphic pellets capable of becoming anything from a hunting dart, to a spoon and fork. There was even a fair amount of short term medical nano-seeds.

These were preprogrammed to promote the health of whatever 'host' they were activated for. They were concealed in a form of tobacco-like material smoked by some of the residents of XenDar. As the material burned the nano-robots within it were activated by the heat, which they used to charge their systems. They would absorb most of the harmful heat and toxins within the smoke before it could harm the lungs of the smoker. Then these nano-robots would enter more deeply into the body of the host they were bonding with, via their new host's lungs.

The side of the hill was covered with vine like plants but nothing that really resembled trees. For that he'd have to descend into one of the valleys. Once he reached the valley, he would openly walk along the top of the larger branches that connected the separate giant trees they were in symbionce with. The trick was to reach the branches in the first place.

The more dangerous denizen of the forest sometimes hunted among the hills. The real difficulty however, was that before he could get near enough to one of the giant tree colonies to reach it's branches Steve would be in it's shade. Then he'd have to move quickly before the voracious omnivores that nested in the mucky ooze of the forest floor found him. Until then, the worst he could have to deal with would be the predator the locals called 'SnarlClaw'.

Chapter 9 The Garage etc...

The charging area had two doors. The small one they came in by and a bigger sliding metal door that automatically opened to the outside when Stephanie pressed a button on the carts dash. As Stephanie put the vehicle in motion, Cindy noticed a sudden soft whine that sounded a lot like the distinctive sound made by the 'Jeep' Jake had driven her to Hillside in.

"Is this cart electric?" she asked.

"No Cindy, like our so called Jeeps, it actually has a hydrogen turbine engine," Jake explained.

They were on a short path a few feet to one side of the patio. The path cut through a wooded section of the grounds before it intersected the gravel drive at the crest of the hill. When they reached it Stephanie stopped and faced Cindy.

"We call this access road the main drive," she said. "To the right it leads down to a few hiking trails and a small stream with some of the best fishing spots in the area. To the left it leads back the way you came up the hill. But we are going down to the garage so..."

Then without another word she drove the four wheeler down the steep path on the other side of the road. She seemed to delight in getting all four wheels off the ground as the vehicle careened down the bumpy path. Cindy didn't have time to worry about it before the path's incline became somewhat less severe.

"Stephanie!" Jess growled. "Slow down!"

"What? Gone chicken on me Jess?" Stephanie accused, as she slowed down slightly to what she considered a safer speed.

"No!" he replied. "I'm just tired of rebuilding the suspension on these buggies."

"Spoilsport!" she retorted. "Oh well it doesn't matter, were there already."

As Stephanie finished speaking she stopped just outside the back door to the garage. When the rest of them stepped out of the cart onto the path, Jake spoke up.

"Actually Stephanie, I'd appreciate it if you'd try not to get Cindy's adrenaline pumped up quite so hard," he said. "She's always been turned on by dangerous situations. Between my knowledge of that and your bare snatch, I'm having a hard time maintaining control."

"Oh please, lets not go there just now," Jess said. "I haven't recovered from our escapades in the side yard yet."

"Besides that, I'm a little bit sore down there just now," Cindy added.

"Alright!" Stephanie conceded. "I'll be a good girl for the rest of the day."

"Good!" said Jake.

Then after waiting for Stephanie to park the cart under the shed's overhanging roof Jake opened and held the door for the others to enter the building. The door opened onto a platform with a few steps leading down to a long narrow storage area.

"This is the third floor loft, Jess explained. "We use it to store a lot of small repair parts and a few bicycles." Then he gestured to the left where the stairs continued down. "This leads to a much larger second floor where Hillside provides quarters for those of us staff who choose to live on premises. It consists of twenty small bedrooms. Each with a private rest room, consisting of a toilet and sink. There are common kitchen and dining areas. It also has a lounge, a recreation area and a common rest room with a few semiprivate shower stalls and a couple of fairly private bathtubs."

He paused just outside a door with a palm reader and a keypad with intercom speaker.

"In the employee quarters, staff has a right to a form of privacy," he continued to explain. "In practice it's rare that any of us care much more about the privacy itself than the average contestant on an x rated reality show appears to. But we do care that we have a right to it. So please bear with me for a moment." At this point he pressed the star button on the keypad and spoke into the intercom. "Guest alert! I've got the boss's new apprentice and his guest here with me. I'm about to show them my room and would like to let them see what our common area's are like. Are there any objections?"

After about five seconds of effective silence Jess palmed the reader and there was a click. He pushed the door open and led them into a small room with two other doors. One on each side. Neither door had a latch. Instead they were split swinging doors styled a little like the entrance to an old west saloon. Except it would be difficult to see over them because they extended from within a few inches of the floor nearly to the top of the doorway. There were also a few cubbies and shelves loaded with armbands, headbands and sashes. Some were white with a black emblem and some black, with a white emblem. There were also a few that were deep red with a multi-color emblem of gray, brown, and blue. Jess picked up one of the red sashes.

"Access to staff facilities such as these quarters are limited to staff and those we choose to invite," he informed them. "They are the only places on the premises that staff don't have to wear a black or white emblem. Instead, our guests are required to wear a red guest sash or band. Aside from that, like the rest of Hillside, all other clothing is optional."

Without comment, Jake took the sash from Jess's hand and slipped it over his shirt. Cindy shrugged, and selected a red headband from one of the cubbies. Then Stephanie also selected a red headband.

"By the way Stephanie, I'm a little confused by the whole headband/armband/sash thing," Cindy spoke up. "Steve said you were part of his staff. But?"

"Good question," Stephanie answered. "Only some of the people Steve hired are technically 'Hillside' staff. So, since I'm part of Steve's personal staff rather than an employee of the Hillside facility, I like Sandra, need to wear a red emblem here."

"That makes sense I guess," Cindy replied. "But Jess made a big thing about having to announce us..."

"And I didn't bother to mention Stephanie." Jess interrupted. "That's because Stephanie has achieved the rare distinction of having a unanimous standing invitation to enter without announcement from all resident Hillside personnel. I think most of us fantasize about suddenly finding her in our beds and the rest just like her company.

We might as well start with my room, it's though the doorway on the left."

Through this door there was a short hallway that turned to the right and became a much longer hallway. Which extended all the way to the front of the building. On the left side there were ten doors with palm readers. On the right side there were four doorways with swinging doors. Jess led them to the second door on the left and again palmed the reader. The door clicked and he pulled it open.

"Be it ever so humble," he mumbled.

Just inside there were a few coat hooks and an open door to the small restroom on the left. On the right there was a small counter top with a microwave on it. There were two small cabinets over the counter and two more under it. Then the room opened up to a ten by ten area.

"It's actually a lot more comfortable than it looks," Jess said.

As he said that he pointing at a fold out sofa bed located just around the corner from the restroom wall. Beside the sofa bed there was a plain looking bureau. On the other side there was a small table with a remote control and a wireless keyboard on it. The far wall had a sliding glass patio style doorway that opened to a modest balcony style porch just deep enough for a small plastic table with two chairs.

Jess picked up the remote and pointed it at the wall opposite the sofa bed. The top 5 feet of which was instantly transformed into huge wide screen TV. On which some cowboy in a white hat was shooting a six gun at a couple dozen masked men in black hats. All of whom he shot dead without having to stop to reload. Jess pointed the remote at the wall again and it went blank.

"I get just about every TV station on the planet," he said. "Now let me show you the common areas."

He then led the way to the nearest swinging door, almost directly across the hall from his room. It was a combination kitchen and dining room with three long tables. There was a muscular black man sitting at the table nearest to the stove. He was wearing jeans and a red shirt. He looked up at them as they entered.

"Hello, I'm Al," he said. "And the lady here is Sam."

As he said that he gestured towards the stove where Sam was standing, facing away from them, stirring a pot of soup. Sam had shoulder length hair that had been dyed a bright shade of blue. The lacy black top did nothing to hide the colorful tattoos that ran down Sam's back and arms. The short silver/gray skirt that clung to Sam's butt stopped halfway to the knees. Below that, both legs were covered with more tattoos. What could be seen of Sam's skin between the tattoos, was pasty white. As was the face that peeked at them over Sam's shoulder. The delicate facial skin contrasted with the black lipstick and eye shadow.

"Soups about done," Sam said while slowly turning to face them. "There's plenty to share if you'd like some."

Cindy was almost jealous of Sam's shapely figure.

"I didn't know there were any 'goths' at Hill..." Cindy's voice trailed off as she took in the rest of Sam's appearance.

It was Sam's eyes that got her attention. They were blue eyes with a difference. The 'whites' of the eyes, were actually black. This fascinated Cindy so much that she was already wondering if it was actually some kind of tattoo ink before she noticed that Sam's chest was actually rather flat. Or that the clinging fabric of the front of Sam's skirt showed the unmistakable outline of male genitalia. He wore nothing under his lacy blouse. Which was open enough in the front to show off a large tattoo of the naked upper torso of a black woman with exaggeratedly large breasts that almost completely covered his chest in such a way that the artwork's nipples overlaid his own. Which were only partially covered by the blouse's sheer fabric.

"I believe I'm the only one within a hundred miles of here," Sam replied.

Jess quickly took the chair across from Al

"I for one would love a bowl of your soup Sam," he said.

"Me too," Stephanie added as she sat down beside Al. "If your smart," she continued with a nod to Jake and Cindy. "You'll both take advantage of Sam's offer. Even Mike says Sam makes the best soup on the continent."

"Flattery will get you an extra serving my dear," Sam said as he coyly batted his eyes.

Jake stopped staring long enough to turn to Cindy

"It's been awhile since dinner," he said. "If Mike says it's that good it just might hit the spot. Shall we?"

"Smells good!" Cindy said as she sat down next to Jess.

Jake sat next to Cindy. Then after staring a Sam for a moment he tried to apologize.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude Sam," he said. "Would you like some help with that?"

Sam shook his head.

"No, I always like being a good hostess," he replied. "Almost as much as I like being stared at Jake. It is Jake right?

"Ah, yes that's right." Jake said as he pointedly tried to stop staring.

Which was rapidly becoming more difficult because Sam was obviously getting a little excited. His hardening organ was beginning to lift the front of his skirt. Sam looked down.

"Sorry about that," he said. "But I'm afraid I can't help it."

"Maybe not," Jake allowed with a shudder. "But I think I can."

He quickly marshaled what control he had over his nanites and suddenly nobody was excited any more. Cindy stuck her elbow into Jake's ribs.

"No fair Jake!" she said. "I was starting to enjoy the show."

"Which show Cindy?" Stephanie asked. "Sam's snake or Jake being uncomfortable with it?"

"Both," Cindy admitted with a sigh.

"Don't let them get to you sir," Al said to Jake with a shake of his head. "While I'm not sure Stephanie here knows how to take no for an answer. I can tell you for a fact that Sam here never puts a move on anyone that he isn't sure wants him to."

"I can vouch for that too Jake," Jess added. "Though I'm not so sure your ready to find that very reassuring."

Meanwhile, Sam had snatched a stack of bowls from a cabinet and placed them on the counter beside the stove. Then one bowl at a time he ladled them full of soup and placed them on the table. Finally placing the sixth and last bowl beside Stephanie and across from Jake. Next he quickly passed out spoons and napkins and took his seat with a sigh, before he spoke up.

"Oh please do find it reassuring Jake," he finally kibitzed. "Yes, I'm bisexual. But I don't really mean to make people uncomfortable. Except of course for the fashion police, who don't think us goths have a right to dress up. Them, I 'like' making uncomfortable. But speaking of that... Once I get excited, I usually stay that way for a while. But suddenly I wasn't anymore. Did your nanosymbiont do that to me?"

"Yes Sam, in a way it was," Jake admitted. "Though actually I'm told that my nanites haven't had enough time to form a true nanosymbiont yet."

"Ya mean ya made ya nanites do that with sheer will power Jake?" Jess asked. Then his fake accent disappeared as he continued without waiting for an answer. "That's supposed to be nearly impossible. Or at least very difficult according to what Sandra taught me."

"Difficult or not," Sam was practically shaking as he continued. "It makes me very uncomfortable to have anything like that done to me." He looked like he was going to be ill.

"I'm sorry!" Jake said.

He really was sorry. He didn't feel like he'd messed with anybody the way he had unintentionally affected Sandra's orientation. Yet Sam was obviously very upset by what he had done on purpose. Which in turn bothered Jake's conscience.

"Now Sam!" Jess butted in. "It doesn't bother you like this when Steve decides things are getting so out of control that he has to 'be a wet blanket' as he calls it. So why are you giving Jake such grief over it?"

"I don't know," Sam shot back. "It took me a long time to learn to trust Steve enough to be sure he would never mess with my mind more than he had to. And besides, He never makes me feel like I don't even 'like' guys. He's always real careful to only make me feel like I'm just not in the mood."

"But Sam, that's all I was trying to do!" Jake said.

"OK Jake, maybe it wasn't on purpose," Sam relented. "And you did make me feel like I wasn't in the mood. But when you did that, there were a few seconds when I felt like that the next time I was in the mood it would only be the girls I was interested in anymore."

"I'm very sorry Sam," Jake said. "I didn't mean to project my own feelings about such things on you. Perhaps I should just leave."

Sam quickly looked into Jake's eyes.

"No! he said. "Stay, I believe you didn't mean to. Besides, the soup will be getting cold and I'd hate to see it go to waste."

The soup was good. Though the conversation was lacking as the bowls quickly became empty. Eventually Sam broke the silence.

"Tell you what Jake," he said with a wink. "I'll make you a deal. If you will stay out of my soft girlish head, even when I get excited. I'll try not to get excited 'because' of your hard manly body."

It took Jake a couple of seconds to decide that Sam was actually serious about his offer. Another three to make up his mind.

"How about this Sam," he countered. You make 'real' sure you don't get the hots for 'me' and I'll 'try' to keep my nanites out of your head."

"I guess that will have to do," Sam agreed as he offered his hand, which Jake shook.

"It's getting to be a bit late in the day," Jess spoke up. "I think we should finish the tour now. We've still got the rest of the staff common area. Then I was going to take you downstairs where I've got a surprise or two for you."

"Oh I love tours!" Sam exclaimed. "Can I come?" as he jumped up from the chair so quickly he forgot to straighten his skirt on the way up.

As soon as he was on his feet he realized it didn't feel right and adjusted it. By then however, both Cindy and Jake were staring again.

"Was that a tattoo of a snake?" Cindy asked.

Sam blushed.

"It sure was Cindy," Stephanie interjected. Then she added with a wink, "Sam's got quite a snake on his snake."

"It sounds like I didn't get a good enough look," Cindy said.

"I however, saw more than enough," Jake asserted. "Shall we get on with the tour?"

"Oh let me show you," Sam said. "It's this way."

Then he walked over to a swinging door on the opposite side of the room from the one they came in by.

"Please humor him," Al said with a shake of his head. "He'll be too miserable to live with if he doesn't get to show off the rest of the digs."

Jess shrugged and looked at Jake quizzically.

"OK Sam," Jake said. "I guess you can show us around."

They entered a hall that was a mirror image of the one on the other side.

"This is our rec-hall," Sam said as they entered the next room.

It had a pool table in one corner, and a ping pong table in the opposite corner. There were a couple of pinball machines, and half a dozen arcade style video games scattered along the walls. Half of the area in the middle was empty. The rest was sparsely filled with tables and chairs.

"There's a lot of room in here," Cindy commented. "But it's so empty."

"Yeah there's not many of us about at the moment," Jess replied. "Some of us are on duty of course. And there might be a few in their rooms. But I think it's got more to do with the extra paid vacation Steve passed out this week."

"Yeah, he said something about sending everyone who didn't already know about the nanosymbionts out of here for a while," Jake said.

"Some of them will be back next week," Sam said. "We'll be having a dance in here the week after. You can come as my guests if you like."

The next room turned out to be the shower and bath facility. There was a long aisle leading from the swinging doors on one side of the room all the way to the swinging doors on the other side. Both sides of the aisle were lined with partition doors, most of which were open. On one side there were toilet stalls and sinks. The other was lined with showers stalls with dressing booths. Except that at each end of the row of showers there was a room with a deep bathtub, which was large enough for two.

"This is one of my favorite places," Sam said with a chuckle. Then he added with a wink, "You wouldn't believe how often the soap gets dropped in here..."

Sam's voice trailed off as he found Jake's face less than 2 inch's from the tip of his nose.

"I thought we had a deal!" Jake demanded.

"We do." Sam replied.

"Just how do you expect me to feel about you joking about some guy dropping the soap, while I'm in the shower room with you?" Jake retorted.

"Hunh? Oh I see your point Jake, Sam said. "But I never promised not to get the hots for your girl friend here. Did I?"

"Wait a minute, were you actually thinking about getting in the shower with me when you said that Sam?" Cindy asked.

Sam blushed slightly.

"Well I didn't want to accidentally think of getting in the shower with a guy around this dangerous hunk in front of me," he said. "I hope your not offended Cindy."

"That depends Sam," Cindy retorted. "Which of us did you picture dropping the soap anyway?"

As they spoke, Jake had been looking back and forth between Cindy and Sam with an incredulous expression on his face. Now he quickly spoke up.

"No! It doesn't matter who drops it," he insisted. "The only way this plays out around me is if, he wants you to be the one picking it up! Got it Cindy?"

"Well in that case," Cindy said seductively. "He should try to imagine me kneeling down and getting a closer look at that snake tattoo." Sam looked worried as he turned to face Jake.

"Would it be a problem Jake," he asked. "If I prevent myself from getting the hots for you by getting a serious case of the hots for Cindy?" Even as he spoke it was obvious that the very idea was making Sam excited again. "Or maybe I should try a cold shower?"

"Maybe!" said Jake. "I do need to keep my own temptations from spilling over into another orgy that none of you would really have a choice about. And frankly, the idea of you and Cindy doing nasty things together is making that rather difficult at the moment. So I guess it depends on whether or not you think you need that cold shower." Then he turned towards Cindy.

"Remember Cindy, we have an appointment to see Sandra in the morning," he said. "So I'd appreciate it if you'd leave off on inspecting his snake until after we find out what she can cook up for us."

He was about to tell Sam to lead on when he heard the water turn on behind him. He turned around and saw that Sam hadn't bothered to close the door to the outer changing booth. The shower stall was a curtain free design that only partially blocked their view. Jake sighed and firmly pulled the door shut. Cindy giggled.

"Well I guess I can wait till tomorrow to measure it anyway, Jake." she said.

"Damn it!" Sam called out, "I forgot to grab a towel, would somebody please fetch me one from one of the cabinets over the sinks? Or should I come out and get umfl..."

When Sam first said the word 'forgot', Jess had headed for the linen cabinet's towel supply. In addition to a single towel, Jess also grabbed a facecloth, which he quickly ran under cold water from a sink and lobbed via an underhand toss. The sopping wet face cloth had arched over the partition door, scoring a direct hit on Sam's face. Who sputtered, wiped his face and found that a towel was now hanging over the partition. He recognized Jess's laugh.

"Serves ya right for forgetting to close the door around Jake here," he said. "Besides, the way Cindy was starting to stare at your tattoo could easily have resulting in Jake triggering a surprise orgy. And some of us still have saddle sores from the last one."

"Now don't get me wrong Jess," Jake said. "At this point I could care less if he's naked. As long as he and Cindy can both, avoid doing sexual favors for each other until tomorrow.

"Do you mean it wouldn't bother you if I didn't put my skirt back on?" Sam asked from behind the partition.

"That depends!" Cindy interrupted, "On whether nobody objects to my teasing you and Jake by getting just as naked as you. I think Jake and I are both capable of waiting with anticipation until tomorrow, when I'll be wanting him to watch me give that tattoo a personal, hands on, inspection."

"Well then," Sam replied. "Since I think you just said you can handle it, I think I'd rather not put these back on." Sam stepped out of the dressing stall with his shoulder length hair wrapped up in the towel as he carried his skirt and blouse to the hamper by the sinks. Then he chucked the outfit in the hamper. "Of course," he added, turning to face Jake. "You can't possibly expect that we can both prance around naked, while I anticipate getting it on with Cindy tomorrow, without my getting a woody?"

Before Jake could answer, Cindy had already added her house duds to the hamper.

"Why don't you show us the lounge," was all Jake said.

Sam pointed at the large wall to his left as he led them into the lounge.

"There's a theater grade view screen in that wall," he said.

An area the size of the other common rooms contained a large semicircle of assorted comfortable looking chairs all facing the view screen wall. Behind the chairs there was a wall with a large archway into another large area, both wider and slightly less deep, with two more semicircles of chairs. Behind them were some frosted glass windows. Sam led them to the right into the extended area where he pointed out the two fireplaces that the outer semicircles of chairs were centered around.

"There's nothing quite like a couple of warm cozy fires," Sam said. "To make for a good gathering place in the colder months." Then he walked over to a wall mounted control panel. "And any time we'd rather focus on a show..."

He left the rest of sentence unsaid, as a fair sized flat view screen folded down from the ceiling in front of the nearest fireplace. Both that screen and the view wall were suddenly displaying a scene from an old movie, with an on screen menu asking if it should resume playing the movie. Sam tapped another button and both screens went blank, while the smaller one folded back up against the ceiling.

"OK Jess, I guess it's time you led our guests down stairs," Sam said. "Mind if I tag along?"

"Welcome to my domain," Jess said. as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

There were eight garage doors. Each with a work bay big enough to park a full sized tour bus. One of the bays had a lift big enough to lift a bus. There were two pick up trucks in another one of the bays. Yet another had three jeeps. A flatbed tow truck was in the fourth bay. There was an open area behind the bays that was just as big as the area devoted to the bays. In it there were an assortment of tool boxes, desks, work benches and just about everything else you'd expect to find in a professional truck repair shop.

"The garage here at Hillside is also the regional maintenance facility for Micronic Enterprise's motor vehicles," Jess said. Then he pointed at a series of doors in the back wall. "On the other side of that wall we have a compressor room and the boiler that provides heat and hot water to the main house." As he spoke, Jess walked over to the central doorway and led them into the back room area. "This area back here is actually under the hill." He pointed at a place in the wall where an assortment of pipes and conduits went through a large grill work in the back wall. "That's a service tunnel that leads all the way to the basement of the main house."

Jess walked over to a small broom closet in the back wall, where he closed the door which had been ajar. Then he turned to face Sam.

"I know your authorized for some of the secret rooms and passages Sam but did they ever give you a full access briefing?" Jess asked.

"My current access rating is 'Hillside, level three'," Sam said. "If that's what you mean Jess."

"Good," Jess replied. "I think I can give them the briefing Sandra expects me to, without overstepping level three. So I guess you can stay with us. Care to do the honors?"

For an answer Sam walked over to an intercom station located on the opposite wall, punched in a code and palmed the reader. There was a soft 'clank', and a six foot cube containing the entire broom closet swung inwards on a hidden hinge. When it stopped there was a wide opening.

"It's time to find out just how deep this rabbit hole goes," Jess said with a grin. Then he led them into the tunnel beyond. "Jake," he continued. "I know your aware that the elevator goes to some secret hidden levels. But did you know that on one of those levels, it opens on the other end of this tunnel?"

"I hadn't thought about it much," Jake replied. "But I figured there must be something like this."

"Good!" Jess said with a smile. "But I'm betting you didn't know we also have a secret transit tube connecting us with the Micronic Enterprises developmental factory building where Sandra's office and lab is located. It's about 50 miles away."

Jake just shrugged. Then Jess led the way down the corridor past several doors, until they reached a T shaped intersection with two smaller corridors and an elevator door. When they were all on the elevator, he punched in a code on the keypad. When the doors opened he led them less than a hundred feet down the corridor, and stopped next to a door with an identi-screen equipped intercom.

"I'm supposed to show Cindy how to take a secure transit pod, back and forth between Sandra's lab and Hillside without getting lost," he said. "But I'm less than sure that the secure access system will let any of us escort Sam into the secure zone. In which case he would have to wait outside."

"Tell me if I'm right to suspect that this can be tested by registering Sam for access," Jake queried. "Then adding the rest of us, one at a time to his benefactor list, until we see if any of us can let him in?"

"You, got it in one!" said Stephanie.

"Then I'd like sign on to the benefactor list... last!" Jake continued. "And I'd like Cindy to sign on to it first."

Sam walked up to and palmed the identi-screen. Then he punched in a short code. After which, the surface of the identi-screen displayed 'scan to authorize access'.

"Your next Cindy," Sam said pointing at the identi-screen.

Without a word Cindy palmed the identi-screen. It flashed, 'access denied' for a second before it returned to the authorization instructions. Stephanie waved Jess forward, who shrugged and tried adding his hand the list. It 'denied' both Jess and then Stephanie. Then as soon as Jake touched the identi-screen, it said 'approved' and the door silently slid open.

"A security upgrade for Sam Davidson to 'Hillside Level Zero' has been logged," a mechanical voice announced.

Sam looked shocked.

"Level zero?" he inquired. "Doesn't that mean unlimited access to absolutely everything?"

"Sure does!" responded Stephanie with a smile.

"Yikes!" he said.

The outer door closed and the inner opened. Then Jess led Cindy to another identi-screen.

"The way it works is that you enter a destination code," he said. "For you Hillside was put on speed dial one and the building with Sandra's lab on two. Then you palm the identi-screen. A transfer pod will arrive for you and the access door will open. Just get in and press the go button, you'll get there. Got it?"

"I think so," Cindy said.

"Good!" Jess replied. "This concludes the fifty cent tour."

"In that case," Cindy responded. "I think we have a busy day tomorrow Jake. Perhaps we should turn in early tonight?"

"Yes, do rest up," Sam said. "We are still on for tomorrow, right?"

Cindy blew a kiss towards Sam's snake tattoo.

"Count on it!" she said. "But for the moment..."

She stepped up to Jake and reached into the waistband of his pants. Taking a firm hold of his cock she said, "Do take me home Jake."

Chapter 10 XenDar

BillSong drove his TreeCrawler with near reckless abandon. He was happy. The 'ship's council' had finally determined that there were no sentient lifeforms in the forests of XenDar.

He was confident that the TreeCrawler made sufficient noise and vibration to scare off any of the squirrel like TreeRunners or semiaerial FlingAts. That might otherwise have been chewed up by the trimmer blades. Now however, he didn't even have to worry about the occasional predatory StingRat. Which might be too busy stalking a FlingAt, to pay attention to the noise. Nor did he have to worry about the rarely seen, ferocious SnarlClaw. That being true to it's belligerent nature would as often as not, choose to stand it's ground and snarl in the face of any intruder.

Neither actually happened very often. Though even at officially reasonable speeds it was sometimes difficult to stop in time but it no longer mattered. They were all officially insentient. This made it legal for him to double the TreeCrawler's speed and therefore the potential profit. As he used it to carve out the arboreal pathways that a standard 'WayWalker' needed to navigate the forest.

It had taken years of path cutting to get skillful enough with the TreeCrawler's grippers. To move the machine through the dense arboreal foliage fast enough for it to become a problem. The TreeCrawler's onboard computer could automatically scan and select only those vines, hanging down from the underside of the BranchCritter, that were strong enough to hold enough of the TreeCrawler's weight. As the computer carefully distributed the load between it's twelve gripper arms.

The skill lay in seeing which sequence of which preselected anchor points would allow the TreeCrawler to only occasionally need to stop. In order to position it's heavy cutter arm against those larger vines that were actually in the way. While usually finding a path that instead pitted just the auto-trimmer wheels against mere slender young twigs.

The foliage was beginning to thin as he approached one of the huge trunks. He wanted to leave enough foliage for a cluster of nesters to settle in near the tree. So it was time to get topside. This was a maneuver that required some skill, in order to fashion a path that a WayWalker could use to climb up onto the BranchCritter's shell.

Then BillSong spotted a clump of one of the varieties of bushy plants that liked to curl up at the edge of the shell. He deftly used the TreeCrawler's gripper arms to entangle a reasonably stout pair of young vine shoots with the bush. Doing so in such a way as to temporarily leave them looping up past the edge of the shell. He also used the special purpose auxiliary manipulator arm to carefully inject the young vine shoots with a special growth hormone that would insure that they would soon be stout enough to hold a WayWalker's weight.

Then he backed up a short distance. Next with the auto-trimmers disabled to avoid leaving a false trail for the Way Walkers that he hoped would soon begin using the new TreeWay he was cutting. He slowly advanced at an angle through the vines to the outer edge of the foliage. It took all of his concentration to avoid putting too much of the TreeCrawler's weight on any one of the outer vines as he used the gripper arms to rotate the TreeCrawler's vertical orientation as it crept up to the edge of the BranchCritter's shell. Once the leading gripper arms were able to obtain sufficiently secure grips on the outer ridges of the hard shell however, the TreeCrawler had more than enough power to pull itself up onto the ShellWay. Which of course resulted in it being right side up again.

Once there, he used two of the gripper arms to manipulate the vine shoots until they were looped up against some of the upper ridges of the shell. Then he used a specialized synthetic glue to bond them to the shell. Leaving the greater part of their length to drape back down into the trailing foliage mass. Next he used the primary cutter arm to gently carve a series of grip points, that a WayWalker could use, into some of the ridges on the BranchCritter's shell. Taking great care not to penetrate into the delicate tissues below it.

Once the pattern of grip points reached the less hazardous center of the ShellWay he locked in an automatic 'shallow cut' program. That he had written to continuously seek and cut a much longer series of grip points. That would be more than secure enough to stabilize a WayWalker, against the relatively slight movements the BranchCritter might make, this close to it's own grip on the great trunk he was approaching.

His program allowed him to do this at a much faster rate than would otherwise be possible. It would even automatically cut a few special anchoring grip points, each suitable for parking a WayWalker on the other side of the central ridge of the ShellWay. Soon the TreeCrawler was rapidly traveling along the top of the BranchCritter.

When he reached the trunk, BillSong would need to slowly crawl up or down it to an adjacent BranchCritter. While carefully carving a connecting BarkWay path in the thick iron hard trunk bark. Suddenly, just before BillSong was ready to slow down, a large angry SnarlClaw jumped down from the foliage, that was hanging from another nearly adjacent BranchCritter. It landed on the ShellWay directly in front of him. The beast seemed determined to fight off this noisy intruder to it's territory.

BillSong had just a fraction of a subcyclet to choose which action to take and he didn't like his choices. He could hit the emergency stop. Which would bring him to an abrupt stop so close to the SnarlClaw as to invite it to attack. In which case he'd have to hope that the powerful predator didn't rip apart very many control circuits. As it tried to claw it's way inside the TreeCrawler's hull.

Or he could turn aside. Turning aside would probably cause the TreeCrawler to slide off the the edge of the ShellWay. With no chance of carefully transferring the machines weight to the outer vines below. So he'd have to hope the grippers could grab onto enough vines, hanging down from the neighboring BranchCritters, to arrest it's fall before it smashed against another BranchCritter's shell. Or worse, fell all the way to the forest floor. As far as he was from the established TreeWays BillSong could be in real danger if he was left stranded.

Then BillSong realized, that thanks to the recent ruling of the ship's counsel on the local life form's lack of sentience, he had another option.

So instead of slowing down, he swung the main cutter towards the menacing SnarlClaw. It was powerful enough to almost instantly cut through even the thickest of VineCores. The main cutter's manipulator arm might be damaged by the initial impact but the main cutter itself would cut the SnarlClaw to ribbons. So the damage would be confined to components the colony could manufacture.

BillSong should then be able to backtrack up the trail he had just cut. He wouldn't need to use the cutter to reach the camp. He would of course be held responsible for the damage to the expensive TreeCrawler. He might even lose his job over it but he would be alive and there were other ways to make a living on XenDar.

Then the cutter smashed into the SnarlClaw's chest. Just before the impact sheered the cutter arm's primary mounting bolts, the priceless cutter assembly itself crumpled into useless junk. It wasn't until he felt jolt of the impact that BillSong knew that the cutter's sonic resonator hadn't initialized. That's when he realized that the computer hadn't identified the sensor readings of the SnarlClaw's massive bone structure as a type of VineCore. So it hadn't known which sonic frequency to use. Had the Resonator already been running it wouldn't have mattered which frequency pattern it used but it hadn't been active and BillSong hadn't had time to manually initialize it. Thus instead of shredding the SnarlClaw beyond recognition. It had impacted on it's massive rib cage.

The SnarlClaw was, of course, mortally wounded. Though it was not yet dead. It's rage was now beyond anything BillSong had ever encountered. The SnarlClaw threw itself at the TreeCrawler with such ferocity that the damaged cutter arm was torn from it's remaining mountings. It then smashed into the leading trimmer wheel, causing the wheel to shatter.

Then the SnarlClaw tore itself to bits against the remaining two trimmer wheels. Warping both of them to the point where they seized up. Worse still, the impact had ripped the TreeCrawler's grippers, from the BranchCritter. So that the brute force of the SnarlClaw's attack was enough to send it spinning over the edge of the ShellWay.

The TreeCrawler struck the edge of another BranchCritter's shell. Smashing all six of the gripper arm mountings on that side of the falling wreck. Then BillSong was momentarily elated, when the remaining grippers automatically grabbed hold of some strong looking vines and the falling TreeCrawler started to slow down. Unfortunately before it's downward plunge came to a halt, it's nose crashed into the middle of yet another BranchCritter. The world went black.

Slowly BillSong began to wake up. He was hanging forward against his safety harness. The early morning twilight was just bright enough to see that the remains of his TreeCrawler dangled, just above the ForkHub of a cluster of three large BranchCritters.

He now began to realize the full extent of his plight. The primary communications array had been mounted on the main cutter arm. The auxiliary communications system just didn't have the power, to push it's signal through all the dense VineCore material between his current position and the established TreeWays.

It was unlikely that anyone would ever pick up his distress signal. Besides which his situation wouldn't get much better now even if, by some miracle, he was rescued. The irreplaceable main cutter assembly was smashed beyond repair. It's synthetic cutting disk assembly, which combined razor sharp edges of a synthetic metal with a specialized sonic resonator in order to quickly chew through VineCore material, was irreplaceable. It was one of only 17 the colony had been able to manufacture from certain key parts of the old ship's defense systems. He would be lucky if they didn't arbitrarily throw him out of the colony.

With working gripper arms on only one side of the TreeCrawler it wouldn't be possible to crawl across the length of any of the BranchCritters. Never mind, to crawl up or down the near vertical surface of any of the great trunks they lead to. Neither the BranchCritters below nor the one from which grew the vines his remaining gripper arms clung to, intersected with any known TreeWays. So the WayWalker, that normally served as an escape pod, wasn't going to be of much use.

BillSong switched to full manual override. Then he carefully released one of the remaining gripper arms from the vine it was attached to. The TreeCrawler sagged a little closer to the ForkHub. As the vine, relieved of the TreeCrawler's weight, swung upwards. Next he tried to use the gripper to get a secure grip on one of the ridges of the ForkHub below. It took three tries.

Then he released the grip of the second gripper arm from the upper foliage but it had apparently been damaged in the fall. As it didn't respond to his attempts to move it into position to grip the ForkHub below. So he tried the third arm and won another grip on the ForkHub.

When he released the fourth gripper arm however, the root of the single vine that the remaining two grippers were attached to, had been so weakened from the shock of halting the TreeCrawler's initial plunge, that it began to rip out of the underside of the BranchCritter above.

The TreeCrawler lurched to one side with a sickening thud, as the unsupported side hit the shell of the ForkHub. BillSong barely had time to get a third grip on it. Before the massive weight of the foliage structure, that the vine's roots no longer supported, nearly ripped the TreeCrawler's tenuous grip from the ForkHub. BillSong started to release the the remaining grippers from the dead weight of the vine but as soon as he released one of the grippers there was a final jolt. As the last gripper arm was torn off by the weight of the falling vine.

The TreeCrawler was now sitting on the thick part of a ForkHub. Which connected 3 massive BranchCritter segments. BillSong decided that trying to move the TreeCrawler much further was too dangerous. So he only manipulated the four remaining gripper arms enough to drag the TreeCrawler's remains just far enough to one side, that there was enough room for the WayWalker to safely pick it's way past the wreckage. Then he set out to explore the area.

Because it had to cut it's way past several vine clusters, that had draped across the BranchCritter from above, it took nearly two cycles for the WayWalker to reach the junction. Where the BranchCritter was fastened to the nearest massive trunk. He wasn't really surprised that there wasn't any sign of any old forgotten BarkWay. That he could have used to reach another BranchCritter. He didn't have to cut through any foliage on the way back. So it took only one cycle to return to the TreeCrawler's remains.

It was nearly midday by the time he got there and the heat of the sun was enough to cause the WayWalker's environmental control computer to route 40 percent of all available power to the cooling systems.

He was surprised to see what looked like a man sitting on the remains of one of the broken gripper arms. The figure before him was wearing a loose fitting one piece garment of some kind. He couldn't quite decide what color it was but it blended in so well with the background. That if he hadn't seen the thermal image, provided by the WayWalker's sensors, he might have gone by without noticing the man at all.

The man's face and hands looked purple. His hair was blue. BillSong brought the WayWalker to a halt about 10 arms away from him. At which point the stranger stood up and waved with some kind of stick.

"Hello there," he said. "Did this use to be, 'your' TreeCrawler?" Then without waiting for an answer he gestured towards the overhead foliage and added, "What'd you do, hit a SnarlClaw?"

"How'd you guess?" BillSong replied. "Yeah it's my wreck. But who or, ah, what are you?"

The man bowed slightly.

"I've been called many things," he said. "But you can call me Seeker. As to how I guessed about the SnarlClaw. Frankly, I couldn't think of anything else on this planet that could do this much damage. By the way, I'm looking for a driver called BillSong. Would you happen to know where I can find him?"

"Yeah, I suppose I might," was all BillSong said before he powered down the WayWalker and popped open the hatch.

They stood, nearly motionless in the oppressive heat, facing each other for a couple subcyclets. Then BillSong wiped the sweat from his brow and broke the silence.

"There's a whole list of things I don't yet know about you," he said. "That includes where you came from, how you got here and why on XenDar I should tell you where to find BillSong?"

Seeker laughed.

"I'd have thought that it was fairly obvious," he replied. "That I came from another planet. Believe it or not, I mostly walked from the hilltop I landed on. As it happens my database says the ID number I found on this wreck, belongs to a TreeCrawler. That was most recently assigned to Colonist ID XenDar#135757693124. So I don't really think I need you to tell me where BillSong is. Do you?"

BillSong thought about it for half a subcyclet.

"No I guess you don't at that," he finally said. "What could you possibly want me for? Badly enough for you to come way out here?"

Seeker reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a small cloth pouch. Which produced a distinctively sweet aroma when he opened it. Then he extracted a palm sized pipe from it that appeared to be carved from a piece of quartz.

"Shall we discuss that over a bowl of my finest weed?" he asked.

Then he proceeded to stuff some of the aromatic blue leaves into the pipe. BillSong took a deep breath, savoring the smell. Asulrod wasn't banned on XenDar but it was so hard to grow that it was a rare luxury. The blue leaves of the female asulrod had a reputation for promoting honest business negotiations. By making it hard to say things the speaker didn't believe. As well as for inducing a mellow mood. Which tended to help prevent any disputes from escalating to violence. Yet for all of that, it didn't usually interfere with rational thought and if anything, it promoted better memory recall.

BillSong hadn't had any for a long time.

"Sounds good to me," he said. As he pointed at the remains of the TreeCrawler. "But I think we'd be better off inside where it's somewhat cooler."

BillSong adjusted two of the seats so that they faced each other. He dropped into one of them and leaned back.

"Do have a seat and tell me about it," he said.

Seeker smiled and sat down. Then he pointed at BillSong with the stem of the unlit pipe.

"It's my understanding that you found a couple unusual things," he said. "Somewhere around here I'm told."

BillSong abruptly sat forward.

"Well not exactly around here," he said. "But yeah, I found something. How did you hear about it?"

Seeker put the pipe stem in his mouth and held his thumb and forefinger over the bowl. Then it looked like an arc of electrical energy jumped between his finger and thumb. The arc curved briefly down into the bowl, igniting the blue leaves. He took a good toke on it. Holding it in as he passed the pipe.

When BillSong sucked in his first lungful he was mildly surprised. That he didn't have to resist an initial urge to cough. Meanwhile Seeker slowly exhaled. Then he explained.

"Actually," he said. "You showed the disks to a guild employee 52 standard days ago. He described the markings to the local master guildsman. Who recognized the significance and filed a report... Say, you wouldn't have them on you, would you?"

BillSong hesitated for a cyclet. Then he reached under his shirt and pulled out a small leather pouch by it's drawstring. Which was looped around his neck. From the pouch, he removed a cloth wrapped bundle that he handed to Seeker.

Seeker carefully unwrapped and examined the contents. Gently, he held one of the two crystal disks up to the light. Then he did the same with the other. He carefully rewrapped them in the soft cloth and handed the bundle back to BillSong.

"They certainly seem genuine," he said. "I don't suppose you'd consider selling them?"

BillSong shook his head.

"Not a chance!" he said.

BillSong had said that in a squeaky voice as he tried not to exhale much of the smoke, from the second toke he'd taken while Seeker examined the disks.

"Oh well," Seeker replied. "I guess it was worth the trip to XenDar just to see them. But what I'd really like is to see exactly where you found them. I'd make it worth your while to take me there.

Should I turn up anything to convince me that the Kindred were ever really here, I'll make you a very rich man. But time is short. I need to leave XenDar in about 90 of your local days."

By this time BillSong had exhaled his lungful. He passed back the pipe, which had gone out and watched more closely to see how Seeker would relight it as he replied.

"I wouldn't mind being rich of course," BillSong said. "But I'm on the hook, for wrecking the TreeCrawler. I kind of doubt their going to let me out of the lockup anytime in the next 180 days, never mind 90."

Seeker didn't relight the pipe until after he replied.

"True enough," he reasoned. "They wouldn't take kindly to losing that cutter assembly now would they. But what if you showed me the site before they throw you in the slam?"

This time BillSong was sure that Seeker used an electrical spark, from his bare hand, to light the pipe.

"First of all I'm not all that sure how I'm even going to get back to the TreeWays," BillSong rebutted. "Second as much trouble as I'm in, it'll be much worse if I don't turn myself in right away."

Seeker handed him the pipe.

"And if the reason for the delay was to secure a replacement for the cutter?" he asked. Then after a brief pause Seeker added, "Even if I decided that somebody else left the Kindred artifacts here. It'd be worth the cost of a replacement cutter just to rule out XenDar as a former Kindred world. I've the means on my own ship, to build you a new cutter. So if you show me where you found them. You could bring a replacement with you when you eventually turn yourself in. But heck, if the site's genuine. I'll even get them half a dozen brand new guild built TreeCrawlers. On the condition that they let you off the hook.

BillSong was shaking his head as he took the last hit from the pipe. When he had first heard the offworlder say something about replacing the cutter he had almost started to hope that the man's offworld resources might just provide a way out of the worst of his troubles.

When the man started raving about several whole new TreeCrawlers however, he was sure that this Seeker was just wasting his time. Who, after all, could possibly even afford the guild shipping costs just to get them here.

Upon that thought however, BillSong finally remembered where he had once before heard the name 'Seeker'. Only it wasn't exactly a name. It was an alternate form of a certain title of elite rank in the most powerful interplanetary organization he had ever heard of. He choked and coughed for nearly a full subcyclet. Before he could again manage to talk.

"No! You couldn't be..." he objected. "A 'questor' of the 'Cosmic Sailor's Guild'. Or could you?"

Seeker just smiled. Then he plucked his pipe from BillSong's hand. He held it in the palm of his hand, so that BillSong could see it liquefy and reform into an oblong pellet. Then he put the nano-morphic pellet in his pocket.

"Well at least you got the guild's name right," he said. "You wouldn't believe how many people still think of us as the 'Star Traveler's Guild'."

At the mention of the old guild BillSong visibly shuddered.

"From your reaction I judge that you know something of the difference between us and the old guild that we replaced," the questor said. Then with only a moments hesitation he continued. "Incidentally when I offered the new TreeCrawlers for your colony. It was merely as an added incentive. If it turns out that the Kindred really were here. I still intend to make you, personally, a very rich man. And even if they weren't. A guild built replacement for your cutter should go a long way towards getting you out of trouble. So do we have a deal or what?"

BillSong thought for a moment.

"I'm not all that comfortable with the idea of doing business with a questor," he said. "But who else would have the means to supply so many new TreeCrawlers? And I suppose that if you really were all that much like a 'Spacer' of the old guild, I'd already be dead and you'd be extracting the location from what was left of my brain."

As he spoke, he looked the questor straight in the eyes. Where he suddenly saw an expression of fatigue and perhaps even a glimpse of pain.

"You're wrong about the Spacers of the old guild," Questor said in a voice laced with much sorrow. "They once were brave and honorable men. Men who allowed themselves to be bonded to their computer systems. So that they could survive the guild's stardrive without being in full stasis. Much as we questors are bonded with our nanite networks. But unlike our networked nanites, their computerized nanite control systems could be hacked.

And the Spacers themselves, were actually the first victims of the cybernoid monsters they became. But, by the way, if a cybernoid thought you had some information it wanted. It wouldn't be kind enough to kill you 'before' it extracted what it wanted from your brain. And their form of data extraction is a particularly horrible way to die. Unless of course it decided to turn you into a cybernoid drone first. Which would have been an even worse fate than any kind of death it could have dealt you."

"Alright, yes for the good of my colony I'll risk it," BillSong conceded. "We have a deal. But I'd like to know how you plan to get there without a TreeCrawler? Will we be using that ship you mentioned?"

Then with visible effort the Questor smiled.

"As to how we will get there," he said in a much more cheerful voice. "I could of course, call in my ship. But I'm trying not to advertise my presence here. If my interest in the area became general knowledge. I'm afraid anything worth preserving would soon be trampled underfoot by the profiteers who would steal everything they can tear loose. Which would destroy the far greater value of the knowledge we can learn from it while it's still intact. No, I think we shall have to walk the ShellWays."

BillSong wasn't happy about walking. It wasn't the walk itself that bothered him though. He might even enjoy himself. If it wasn't for the fact that he'd have to do it without even the armor of his WayWalker. Thus they would have little protection from the critters of the forest. It wasn't just the risk of running into another SnarlClaw that he was worried about. They would now even need to be wary of those stupid StingRats.

Since the ShellWays didn't have much protection from the sun. They would need to seek shelter from the heat of the day. Which meant they would have to travel by night. The StingRats were of course nocturnal hunters. When it got dark out even a small one, of perhaps half a lift, might try to jump them and the slightest scratch, from that multiply barbed stinger on the end of it's tail, could paralyze a man for days.

Still he knew that there was really no point in trying to use his WayWalker to get there. Even if he could get it to the TreeWay system. It wouldn't get them anywhere near their destination. The unlisted TreeWay he had cut to get to the place, where he had found the artifacts, would be so overgrown by now as to be almost indistinguishable from the rest of the forest foliage. Nothing less than a TreeCrawler would get them there. Except by walking the ShellWay.

Besides that, he had the impression that if he wanted this questor to gift his colony with those badly needed machines. He would have to avoid making it easy for others to find the site and walking at least wouldn't cut a path for anybody to follow.

They waited for the sun to set in the relative comfort of the TreeCrawler. Even though more than half it's solar collectors had been destroyed along with it's primary power storage system, there was plenty of power in the auxiliary power cells to keep the environment control systems running for a couple of days. Unfortunately the primary external heat exchanger had also been damaged. Before long the TreeCrawler had run out of viable heat sinks in which to store the surplus thermal energy. So it became uncomfortably warm. They mostly sat still expending as little energy as possible and occasionally talked about how BillSong was going to find his way back to the 'site'.

"If we're really going to walk I suggest we make a good meal of the last of my fresh foods,"BillSong suggested when it had first started to cool off. "We can save my stock of nonperishable ration packs for later. Lets see..." He continued as he started pulling things out of the cold storage food locker. "There's some bread, a little factory grade converted meat and I've still got one of those hydroponic TumaTows they've been growing in Shiptown, ever since your people sold us the seeds two years ago."

"You've got TumaTows?" the Questor exclaimed. Then he continued without giving BillSong a chance to answer. "They happen to be a favorite of mine. Actually I was largely responsible for them being exported from the backwater planet I've been using as a base of operations. And shortly after I knew I was coming here I was quite pleased to learn that XenDar was one of the places the guild convinced to try them. Actually you've got the makings of an excellent meal that the locals of that backwards place call a 'sandwich'. Let me show you."

He grabbed the bread and pulled a sharp kitchen knife from his pocket. With which he sliced off a couple of thin pieces. Then he quickly did the same with the meat and TumaTow.

"Would you like to try one?" Questor asked after he showed BillSong how to assemble and hold a 'sandwich'.

"I have to admit it looks good to me, 'Questor'," BillSong said. "You don't mind if I call you by your proper title do you? It will help me to remember who and what I'm doing business with."

Questor just shrugged and made another sandwich.

"You can call me anything you like BillSong," he said as he sliced the bread. "Just don't call me late for dinner. Speaking of which there'll be enough left for you to try your hand at making a third sandwich, which we could bring with us. But lets see if these are as good as they look first"

After they finished the somewhat dry sandwiches and washed them down with drinking water extracted from the TreeCrawlers condensation unit, BillSong manage to turn the remainder of the fresh food into something resembling the sandwich he'd just had. He cut it into two pieces. He put them in a small food container which he placed in a backpack, along with forty plastic cylinders from a storage locker. Each cylinder was marked 'ration pack contains: 1 meal'.

"Are you ready?" BillSong asked Questor.

"Almost ready," Questor replied, as he pulled out his nano-morphic pipe and packed it with some red leaves. "We have a long walk ahead of us, so lets start out with a little boost." At which point he ignited the bowl's contents.

BillSong gladly accepted the pipe. The stimulating effect of the red leaves of the male asulrod plant would make the journey seem much less tedious.

They walked along the fork of the BranchCritter that led upward from the junction for over a subcycle before they passed the point where the remains of the TreeCrawler behind them was no longer visible. As the evening twilight faded, the dim ShellGlow emanating from the shells of the BranchCritters around them became visible. The eerie phosphorescent glow changed the whole appearance of the forest. Making it at once both more menacing and to BillSong's mind more beautiful. Then without a word, Questor stopped and stared at the view. Looking from the glowing path of the shell before them to the many other ShellWays above and below them, now distantly visible in almost every direction.

"I must say that none of the descriptions and images, in any of the guild's files on XenDar, do justice to the beauty of the forest at night," Questor said with a sigh as he resumed walking.

BillSong smiled slightly but said nothing. As he followed Questor towards the great trunk they were approaching.

Questor stopped about 200 arms from the trunk. He looked closely for any sign of an old BarkWay. Then Questor held up the walking stick he carried. The top of this odd looking thing had a ring like handle. Which was shaped so that the hole in the middle looked like an oversized, upside down outline of a falling drop of water. Questor held the stick by it's midsection and looked through the ring of it's handle like it was the lens of a viewing glass.

"It's just as I expected," Questor proclaimed. "There is no forgotten BarkWay here."

"I don't know about that," BillSong said, "But I think we can rule out one leading upwards anyway. One leading down to a BranchCritter below us would be hard to see in this light."

"Check out the replay." Questor said as he held his stick out so that the loop of the handle was in front of BillSong's face.

Almost instantly a dim, but recognizable image of the trunk appeared inside the loop. The picture then rotated until it appeared upright to BillSong. Then the image brightened until it was as clear a view as would be had in broad daylight. Next it zoomed in for detail and panned from one side to the other of the trunk along the junction between it and the BranchCritter. When the image vanished Questor retracted the stick from in front of BillSong's face.

"OK, so there isn't one at this trunk," BillSong admitted. "That still leaves the downhill segment. Might as well start back towards the ForkHub. But I think dawn will catch up to us before we get there. So we'll want to be on the lookout for a suitable clump of vines to build a hunters nest where we can rest for the day in the shade."

"Yes, I'd agree such a nest would be a good idea," Questor said. "Actually I'm curious to know how you would go about building one so I'll defer to your judgment on when and where to start today's nest. But I'm also curious what you'll do if we discover that the third trunk is also without BarkWays?"

BillSong shifted the pack he had taken from his locker onboard the TreeCrawler so that he could show Questor the utilitarian crossbow-grapple that was folded up within it.

"With this and a little daylight we can climb from one TreeWell to another," BillSong explained. "Until we reach one with a BranchCritter leading the way we want to go. In that close to the trunk we won't be as exposed to the sun because it's plume will provide some shade, and of course there'll be plenty of drinking water in the unattached TreeWells and a nice cool bath when we reach a BranchWell. But it does occur to me that we'd get there a lot quicker if you call in your ship."

"I did tell you I didn't want to advertise my presence," Questor said patiently. "For the moment lets just go find a spot you think will make for a good nest." Questor turned his back to the trunk and started walking.

"Wait a cyclet!" BillSong called after him. "Lets eat that remaining TumaTow sanwigit first."

Questor chuckled as he turned around. As they ate he explained to BillSong how to pronounce the Earth-English term 'sandwich' and likewise the Earth-English pronunciation of the word 'tomato' which had been the source word for the XenDarian name for it.

The dawning light had became bright enough to obscure the ShellGlow. When there was enough light to clearly see the foliage vines that trailed below them. BillSong started to look for a suitable cluster for their nest. When he spotted one that suited him he laid flat on the edge of the shell so that he could rub the BranchCritter's underside. Causing a slow rippling movement in it's flesh that exposed an otherwise concealed ridge on the underside of the shell. Allowing him to secure a grip long enough to reach the nearest vine stems.

Once he had a grip on the vines he quickly acquired a precarious foot hold against the rough bark of one of the heavier vines. Then he climbed down to about ten arms below the BranchCritter. To where the majority of the vines began to fork. Before long he found an opening in the foliage mass that he could crawl into. To avoid a fall he had to keep a good grip on the vines. Because even though there were many forked vines below him. All of them were angled downwards. As he went in he looked closely at the shadows to make sure he didn't stumble into a StingRat's nest. He looked in all directions but he paid particular attention to the places where the forkings of several different vines were entwined in such a way as to provide a dark spot where a StingRat could hide

Such entwined vines also made good lash points for the construction of a hunter's nest. He used his colony made 'perma-sharp' belt knife to cut away a small vine stalk that was in his way. Then he cut a few more. When the seventh one fell away. There was enough room to construct a modest sleeping platform.

He crawled in a little further to reach some adjacent vine stems. Which looked thin and supple enough to shape into a loose basket like framework that would support the sleeping platform. He crawled down one of them.

When he was about 15 arms below the intended floor height. He began to gather them together. He fastened them to each other with thin strips of bark that he shaved off some of the neighboring vines. Until he had securely tied a course network of vines, with enough bark strip tethers, that he was confident it would hold considerably more than twice his weight. Then he ascended to a point about 20 arms above the gathering. From which he gradually pulled each of the tethered vines outwards. Tethering them to neighboring vines with more bark strips.

This also pulled the central gathering of vines up until the bottom of the frame became a shallow bowl shape. Next he started cutting lengths of slender vine shoots from some more of the neighboring vines. He wove them through the heavier network he had made from the uncut vine stems. Then he tethered them to the frame at each end. Pulling them as taunt as he could. Next he wove some more of them in between those ones. He kept repeating this process, with gradually thinner vine shoots, until he had a nearly flat platform in the middle of the bowl. With a fine enough mesh that they didn't have to worry about their feet slipping through the weave as they walked on it.

In all it took him about three subcycles to fashion a reasonably comfortable temporary nest. Which was both big and strong enough for the two of them. By that time it was uncomfortably hot on the ShellWay. Nonetheless, Questor had stayed topside in the growing heat. Using his stick to take one reading after another of the BranchCritter itself and it's structural upper shell.

"The nest is ready for occupancy," BillSong announced with a little flourish. "All we need is to collect piles of soft leaves to sleep on."

"That's nice," Questor replied. Seemingly preoccupied with the data he was collecting. Then with a shake of his head he added, "These BranchCritters are amazingly strong. Guild technology would have resorted to using structural force fields to make a bridge hold up it's own weight over so great a span. Yet the BranchCritters seem to manage it without one. While also supporting the weight of all those foliage rich vines."

"You got that right!" BillSong said. "Our best scientists have been trying to figure that out since the colony was first founded. They say it's structurally impossible. So they've been studying BranchCritters for years. But so far they've found nothing they could use to explain the fact, that impossible or not, these BranchCritters actually do hold up all that weight. Now come on down before you roast."

With that said, BillSong busied himself gathering leaves for his bedding. Questor followed him to the edge of the shell. Then he took careful aim and jumped at a point in the foliage below. Relying on his nanite enhanced agility and strength to secure a grip. Without depending on a ridge grip like the one BillSong tickled out of the BranchCritter. Questor pulled a large sack from his pocket and soon had it stuffed full of leaves. Then he hauled the sack inside the structure.

They didn't speak as Questor quietly examined BillSong's handiwork. It was a lot like being in an upside down treehouse he thought as he examined the nest. The light that made it into the nest was diffused. As it passed through irregular gaps in the vine mass that served as walls. There was enough light to see by but if he wanted to see fine details he'd have to depend on his nanite enhanced vision. The temperature was comparatively cool. There were several gaps in the vine stems that, when nature called, would be big enough to crawl into.

After a few subcyclets of quiet he heard soft sounds coming from all directions around them. As the small creatures of the forest began to stir. Finally Questor spoke, causing the forest to fall silent again.

"It's actually quite nice in here BillSong," he said. "It doesn't sound as though any of the critters I've heard are likely to come close enough to bother us. Shall we eat something before we sleep?"

"No, the ration packs I brought will have to last us a while," BillSong replied. "We can get a meal from the TreeCrawler's on board protein converter tonight." Then he added, "Actually, the only critters likely to bother us are the StingRats that creep quietly through the foliage as they hunt FlingAts. But if we stay quiet enough. We'll hear the other forest critters becoming suddenly quiet whenever they come around. Which should give us enough warning."

"Yes, I suppose they would make a good early warning system at that," Questor said with a chuckle. "But we won't actually need to use the converter on your TreeCrawler. The leaf you've smoked with me was laced with enough high grade nano-meds. That you should be able to eat unprocessed local foods. Without complications for the next 70 days or so."

"Nice of you to tell me," BillSong said. "I could have hunted or gathered something a bit more tasty. But as it is, I suppose we can afford to open a ration pack or two."

Then he reached into his pack and took out a couple of ration packs. Tossing one of them to Questor he opened the other and extracted a small water pouch along with a vitamin enriched foodbar which he began to eat. Questor did likewise.

"Yug!" Questor said, after a couple of bites. "Now I 'am' sorry I didn't explain it sooner. These taste like..."

"Yeah, but it serves you right," BillSong interrupted him. "Now shut up and eat. Then I think we need to try for some sleep."

"You're not from around here," BillSong continued. After they had washed down the foodbars with the contents of the water pouches. "So maybe I should warn you. I do hope nudity doesn't shock you. Because I'll be following the local custom. Of hanging up my clothes to air out while I sleep."

Questor chuckled again.

"Do you hear yourself now BillSong?" he said. "As if anything your local customs prescribe might actually shock a questor... Or even surprise one.

I've not been on XenDar long but the guild's files on the place are more complete than you might think. Though I'll admit that technique you used to tickle a grip out of the BranchCritter, wasn't in them."

While he spoke he watched BillSong disrobe and tie his clothing to some of the overhead vines. As soon as he was finished speaking Questor did the same. BillSong couldn't help but notice that Questor was extremely well endowed. Then he pushed the thought out of his mind. Half a subcyclet later they crawled into their leaf piles and were soon asleep.

BillSong woke to the silence around him. He hadn't heard a sound. That was the problem. He realized it had been too long since he had heard any of the small critters make any noise at all. Without seeming to move BillSong looked around the nest. Then he spotted it. A fair sized StingRat had crept out of one of the openings in the sides of their nest. It was almost within striking range of the Questor. BillSong estimated it's weight at a full lift as he silently drew his belt knife. Even as BillSong threw his knife, Questor suddenly snatched up his stick. Which he swung at the StingRat. Knocking the startled creature off the vine it was clinging to. The knife whished through the empty spot where the StingRat had been. It sunk to the hilt in a vine. The StingRat landed between them on the platform, near the entrance.

It was obviously angry but before it could strike either of them with it's barbed tail. Questor had sprung to his feet and struck it again with his stick. This time knocking it out through the entrance where it fell from sight. A fraction of a subcyclet later a prolonged shriek of rage reached their ears from a considerable distance below them. BillSong judged by the sound of it that the StingRat had missed the vines that hung down around them. Then it must have caught hold of some other vines. That must be hanging from another BranchCritter, somewhere below them.

Questor pulled BillSong's knife out of the vine with little perceivable effort and handed it to him.

"Well it's nice to know, you're on my side," he said. "Thanks anyway."

BillSong thought about the shear force that Questor had mustered with a seemingly casual swing of his stick. Enough force to knock the StingRat clean out of the vine cluster.

"I don't think that one will be back," he replied with a shake of his head. "It's probably safe to go back to sleep until the light starts to fade."

BillSong tried laying on one side then the other. Then he tried laying on his back but sleep wouldn't come.

"Pardon my intrusion BillSong," Questor spoke softly. "But I can't help but notice that you're not sleeping. Perhaps you'd get more rest, if we shared a bowl of blue asulrod."

"But that doesn't exactly promote sleep," BillSong objected.

Questor chuckled.

"Sleep? No!" he acknowledged. "But a bit of quiet friendly conversation, under it's influence, is likely to provide more rest than all that tossing and turning you been doing."

"Yes," BillSong said. "I suspect you're right about that."

Hardly had he finished speaking when he saw a spark of light. As Questor ignited the asulrod. BillSong was glad to notice that the bowl was only half full.

It would be enough to relax but perhaps not so much as to prevent them from eventually getting a little more sleep. Before long they were lost in pleasant conversation.

BillSong found himself explaining how it was. That most of the colonists came to be called Nesters. He didn't really think he was telling Questor, anything he didn't already know but he felt he needed to explain something and it was what came to mind.

Questor, for his part listened patiently. Suddenly BillSong changed the subject.

"But that's enough about us Nesters," he said. "How about your people? When you reformed the guild, how did you ever come up with the name 'Cosmic Sailors'? I mean your ships don't actually have sails now. Or do they?"

"Very well, If you must know," Questor said. "It does indeed have to do with the new technology we built into our ships. You see the old style ships generated a wormhole of sorts that went directly to the destination point. They had to already have all the energy needed for the whole trip at the very beginning of it. Our new ships work differently, in that we use the power of the cosmic winds to fuel our flight.

And while they don't exactly have sails, we follow the course of the cosmic winds, so that we might harvest it's bounty of charged particles. We zig and zag our way there. Even as an ocean sailor would tack back and forth to extract the power of the wind, when it wasn't blowing in his direction.

We needed to change the guild's name for other reasons that I shall not talk about. However, once the idea of describing our new mode of travel as a form of sailing was thought of. Nothing else sounded right..."

Questor went on talking about the parallels between cosmic sailing and actually sailing on some ocean. To BillSong it seamed as if Questor would keep talking forever about it. After a while his voice seamed to fade away.

The next time BillSong awoke, the air was noticeably cooler. He quickly realized that what woke him was the smell of FlingAt meat cooking... Not, he realized, the muted slightly soured smell produced by FlingAt meat that's had it's proteins converted but rather it had to be the smell of fresh meat. He sat up to find Questor crouched over a three legged pan. Which straddled the flaming, oil rich fleshy parts, of a few FurNut husks. The FlingAt fillets in the pan looked ready to eat. Next to the pan was a small pile of freshly shelled FurNut pits.

"I take it you couldn't sleep?" BillSong said with a shake of his head. "It's gonna be a long nights walk you know."

"Actually my host-mind instructed me," Questor replied with a slight grin. "Not to rouse him until you woke."

It took BillSong a moment to realize that it had been Questor's nanosymbiont that had answered.

"It disturbs me," he said. "That you sound so much like him. How's anybody supposed to know when you're on autopilot anyway?"

Questor just chuckled. Then he shook his head.

"My nanosymbiont thinks it's amusing," he said. "That you'd expect to detect any difference."

After a subcyclet of silence BillSong decided to believe it was the real Questor speaking.

"Wait a cyclet," he protested. "Do you really expect me to believe that it actually has a sense of humor?"

"You're free to believe what you want of course," Questor began. "But the fact is 'he' was already laughing when he woke me up. He is a part of me. And I'm a part of him. His personality formed around mine. It fit's me so well that it almost doesn't matter which of us is talking."

"It matters to me!" BillSong replied hotly.

After a brief pause Questor spoke in a monotone. With a steady rhythm that almost sounded mechanical.

"Would you be more comfortable if I sounded like this?" Questor's nanosymbiont asked.

BillSong looked closely at Questor's face. His eyes looked like he was near laughter. Though the rest of his face bore a serious expression.

"Actually," he said. "It might at that. That is, if I thought I could count on it."

Questor sighed.

"I'm afraid that under certain circumstances," he said in his normal voice. "It wouldn't be advisable for my symbiont to sound like that. But I think we can promise that whenever my symbiont is speaking to you privately. He will either sound like that or find some other way to explicitly let you know that he's the one speaking. Now I do hope that will do. Because I for one, would like to enjoy some of the breakfast my symbiont fixed for us."

"I guess it will have to do," BillSong said. "I must admit the aroma is making me feel ravenous."

Without another word Questor produced a pair of forks from one of his pockets. Then handing one to BillSong, he used the other to pick up one of the fillets and he gestured at the other one meaningfully as he took a large bite. BillSong did the same with the other fillet.

"This is delicious," BillSong admitted right after he took his second bite.

When they finished eating Questor began packing up the pan and utensils. Which he stuffed into a backpack like pouch in the back of his shirt that BillSong hadn't noticed before.

"I expect we're in for another long walk," Questor said. "Would you care to share another bowl of red asulrod?"

They stopped at the TreeCrawler only just long enough to confirm that with the environmental controls set to 'unoccupied', the previous day's drain on the auxiliary power cells had been marginally exceeded by the power yield from the remaining solar collector. Then they began the long, slightly downward slope of the third glowing ShellWay.

They didn't talk much. There wasn't much to say until they learned if there would be an old forgotten BarkWay carved into the last trunk. As they walked, Questor stopped briefly a few times to remark again on the beauty of the night forest. Then just as they resumed walking after the third such stop, Questor's hand suddenly dipped into a pocket. He produced something which he threw so quickly, BillSong almost didn't see that it was some kind of dart. Then Questor quickly ran ahead about 10 arms to a spot near the edge of the ShellWay. Where he extended his hand just in time to catch the FlingAt that fell dead, from the dark mass of foliage above, before it could fall into the darkness below them.

Questor placed the FlingAt on the ShellWay and began to carve out the best cuts of it's meat.

"This time, when you pick a spot for our next nest," Questor said. "Let me try my hand at building it while you gather some veggies to go with my kill, would you?"

By the time BillSong agreed, Questor had carved out half a sublift of meat and flung the remains into the foliage below, confident that none of it would be wasted by the local scavengers.

This would set the pattern for many a nights walk to follow. Questor's enhanced vision would allow him to spot game in the dark before BillSong's eyes could. So Questor hunted while BillSong gathered some fruits and vegetables to go with it. A situation BillSong would soon find difficult to accept but on this occasion BillSong was far too curious to see how good a nest Questor could construct to mind.

BillSong had spent much closer to one subcycle than two, foraging, before he returned to the spot he had pointed out to Questor as a good place to build the nest. He was surprised to find that it was nearly complete. It was almost an exact copy of the one he had built. Though the lashings that held it together were tied with a less traditional style of knot. Which he decided would serve the purpose. Though he did ask Questor how he had built it so quickly.

"It is because I can do such repetitive work so much faster, that he had me do most of it," Questor's nanosymbiont replied in a mechanical sounding voice.

With a shudder, BillSong looked again at the lashings and grudgingly decided that they would hold up. They were not disturbed by any StingRats that night.

This time Questor didn't say a word as he held the loop of his stick in front of BillSong's face. After a few seconds BillSong just sighed and began to unpack his crossbow-grapple from his pack.

"Wait a bit on that would you?" Questor requested. "There's something I'd like to point at about a cyclet's walk behind us." BillSong shrugged and followed him back the way they had just come.

As he walked, Questor kept looking through the loop of his stick. He looked through it in one direction after another. Then suddenly he swung the stick around in mid air, catching it by its handle and pointed it at the underside of another BranchCritter that was a considerable distance above and to one side of them.

"That one leads in the general direction of a navigable TreeWay," Questor said. "Which I think we could reach in half a days walking. When we get there, perhaps you will get your bearings sufficiently as to point us in the right direction."

Then he reached into a pocket and removed a nano-morphic pellet which he put on the junction of his stick and it's handle. It clung to the shaft of his stick as if by some magnetic force. It shimmered slightly as it took the shape of a dart.

Again Questor pointed the stick at the overhead BranchCritter. Then he adjusted his aim to point at a section of the trailing foliage vines that hung from it. There was a soft swishing sound 'pfffst' when the air was pushed aside by the dart. As it was accelerated along the length of the stick and flew at the vine. A thin thread of some substance was tailing behind the dart, keeping it connected to the end of the stick. The dart seamed to split into three pieces as it struck and embedded itself the vine. Each piece connected to the thin thread by more of the same material. Two of the three pieces wrapped around the vine in opposite directions. Somehow doing so without entangling their connecting threads before striking and embedding themselves in the vine.

Questor took another nano-morphic pellet out of his pocket and fired it as a dart, at the ShellWay at their feet. This dart liquefied on impact forming an unevenly shaped puddle of adhesive gel that was about half an arm across. The thread that stretched from the puddle to the stick was attached to the junction of the stick and it's handle. The thread now passed through a small opening that BillSong hadn't seen before. The threads attached to the either end of the stick were both pulled taunt.

Meanwhile Questor pulled a third pellet from his pocket which transformed into a lasso like rope which he suddenly tossed over BillSong's torso. Waiting for just the right moment to tug it back upwards as it's loop shortened. It was pulled in to form a snug fit above his waist and just below the elbows of the arms, which Questor had somehow avoided snaring in the loop.

"Hang on!" Questor said.

Then he attached the other end of the lasso to the outside of the junction of the handle and his stick. Questor held on to the loop of his handle with one hand while he used the other to guide BillSong's form. So that he missed hitting any of the foliage that got in the way as the thread rapidly became thicker and much shorter. While the other line got longer and somewhat thinner. This rapidly pulled them up the line.

When they reached the section of vine, where the first dart was attached, the adhesive gel pulled off the ShellWay they had just left and formed a small blob on the end of the thread. Which was rapidly pulled up the shrinking thread until it reached the stick. Where it again became a small pellet which Questor pocketed. Questor pointed just above them to the edge of the BranchCritter's OverShell.

"Think you can climb up that?" he asked.

BillSong glared at Questor for half a subcyclet before he glanced at the spot Questor had pointed at. Then without a word he grabbed hold of a small vine sprouting down from just inside the edge with one hand while he anchored his leg against the stoutest vine within his reach. He looked Questor squarely in the eyes and reached out with his other hand tugging at the lasso.

Questor shrugged slightly and the lasso almost seamed to fall away leaving only a thin coil of thread attached to the knot that held it looped around his torso. When it was evident that it wasn't going to hinder his movements, BillSong released his grip on the lasso and reached up to the spongy underside of the BranchCritter near the edge. With the back of his hand he slowly stroked it as one might pat a family pet. Slowly a slight ripple formed in the TreeCritter's underside as it contracted exposing a ridge in the very edge of the OverShell where he quickly secured a grip. enabling him to extend the arm that used to hold on to the vine around the edge to where he knew he'd find another ridge to secure the grip he needed to pull himself up over the edge.

No sooner had BillSong stood up on the top side of the OverShell then Questor swung like a ball on a string over the edge, landing on his feet. He held up his hand and the remains of the lasso fell away from BillSong as it and the rest of the nano-morphic material slithered along the thread like tendrils back to Questor's hand where it all reformed into pellets that Questor stashed in his pockets.

By then Questor noticed the change in BillSong's mood.

"Sorry, I should have at least told you what I was doing," Questor apologized "Before I dragged you up here like that. But you wouldn't have believed what my nanites could do to get us here."

BillSong just glared back at him.

"That's a neat trick you used to secure a grip on the underside ridge of the OverShell," Questor tried again. "How did you ever learn to do that anyway?"

BillSong knew Questor was reaching for a way to break the ice that had formed in his attitude towards him. Yet he couldn't resist the chance to rub it in a little that there were still some things about XenDar that Questor didn't seem to know.

"Now that we are standing on it, we should refer to it as a ShellWay." He said in an icy voice. Then BillSong sat on top of one of the ridges in the BranchCritter's shell and began to speak in a more conversational manner.

"That wasn't much of a trick for a kid who grew up in the trees of NesterVille, don't you know?" he said Then with an icy edge back in his voice, he continued. "Speaking of which, did you really think I couldn't have climbed up the foliage vines myself?".

Questor sighed.

"I'd no doubt that given a few tools and all day to work with, you could have gotten here," he allowed. "But then we wouldn't have had time for this discussion, don't you see?

And speaking of tools, now that your aware of what a nano-morphic dart can do, I'd like to offer you a few tools that I think you might just find useful. First, do tell me if I got the basic design right of the type of TechnoBow favored among nesters?"

As he said this he pulled a bundle from his backpack pouch. From this package, Questor produced and unfolded a compact high-tech forearm mount powerbow with a quick release power winch. That given sufficient charge, could easily lift a man's weight.

"The bow is also a control system for these," he said as he removed several large nano-morphic pellets that reformed into bolts that looked just the right size to fit the TechnoBow.

"You mean I can make these bolts do the kind of thing you did with the darts you shot with that stick of yours?" BillSong asked somewhat incredulously.

"You can learn to," Questor explained with a smile. "Incidentally, one of the forms that 'these' nanomorphic pellets are preconfigured to become is a special high efficiency solar collector to recharge the power cells in the bow. As well as the ones in this special quiver. Which is also able to manufacture regular disposable hunting bolts, from some of the raw materials in certain local vines. Which might come in handy if you acquire a taste for FlingAt meat. And then there's this little beauty."

As he spoke Questor picked up the package that he had taken the other items out of. Which began to morph into a standard looking bio-stove. Questor opened the hearth chamber where one would expect to place the wood intended to fuel the next burn cycle. He pointed at a part of the housing that looked unusually thick. Then he demonstrated how to open it to reveal a concealed self-contained hydroponic chamber. Next Questor pulled a small package out of his pocket that contained what looked like a small cluster of live asulrod.

"If you keep this unit charged," Questor explained as he placed the asulrod in the hydroponic chamber. "It will automatically nurse this asulrod plant into sufficient growth as to supply an average of one bowl each a day, of both the relaxing blue and of the stimulating red leaves. As well as producing an occasional blossom of the black aphrodisiac flowers. That I suggest you use only with great care, if at all. All of which will be augmented with a dose of nano-meds almost as robust as my stash.

Though, once mine wears off you would need to dose yourself with these at least once a week to continue to safely digest unmodified local proteins. It has a sufficient store of concentrated nano-meds to lace about a thousand days worth of asulrod production. After which, even if I haven't reloaded it, it will still be able to construct a utility grade nano-med supplement. That would still help you digest local proteins and strengthen your immune systems with daily use. Of course, the utility grade stuff wouldn't be able to use itself up, healing broken bones and severed arteries, like the good stuff will. To keep all three nanotech devices properly charged on a hike like this. You only need to instruct one of the nanomorphic arrows to deploy a solar collector. Which will cling to the outer most layer of vines collecting solar energy. While you rest in the shade of one of your 'hunter's nests'."

BillSong was staring blankly at the gifts the strange guildsman was offering him. The nanotech resources in any one of them would be worth a large fortune on the open market.

"Do you mean that if you decide these Kindred of yours really were here, I'll get to keep this stuff?" he asked.

"Oh this stuff is yours already," Questor said with a chuckle. "There wouldn't be much point in taking it back, the nano-control centers in the bow and the bio-stove are already bonded to your personal use. They won't work for anyone else. And besides, they are a gift.

I dislike false giving. So I'd be inclined to leave these with you even were I to decide that the whole thing was a hoax that you personally engineered. Though you can rest assured that if I thought that was likely I wouldn't be gifting you with them in the first place. But tell me, now that you see the relative ease with which we can get from one BranchCritter to another. Do you still feel we need to use the official TreeWay system to get to the site?"

BillSong thought about it a moment before he answered.

"Perhaps not," he said as he pointed at Questors stick. "Can that thing show me a tactical overview of our position relative to the officially listed TreeWay System?"

"Of course it can," began Questor. "As can the target scope on your bow if you ask it to."

BillSong picked up his new TechnoBow and looked at it a little more closely.

"If you'll give me a crash course on using this stuff," he said. "I think I can mostly stay off the official paths."

Chapter 11 A New Strength

They were wearing their matching black tee shirts and jeans again, as they stepped up to the transit pod's access identi-screen. Cindy punched in a two and palmed the screen. Then Jake added his palm. When the door opened there were two transparent spheres sitting at the boarding platform. Which could have held up to four such pods. An upper section of each pod was swung open like a hinge. Inside each pod there was a single chair.

Jake gestured at the rear pod and climbed into the one in front. As soon as they were both seated, Jake pushed a button and both pods closed. They were enveloped in gentle restraining force fields. Then in quick succession the pods went hurtling through a long tubular tunnel. Thirty seconds later they arrived at their destination platform. They had been moving so quickly that even Jake almost missed noticing that there had been a few junctions with tunnels going someplace else. The existence of which didn't really surprise him however, because it explained why they actually had to input a destination code to use the transit pods.

"When we go back, can we maybe just take a jeep?" Cindy asked as they stepped out of the pods.

Jake chuckled.

The pod access door closed behind them. The panel with the identi-screen also had a couple of large slots. That Cindy thought resembled a cross between a canned soda dispenser and the envelope deposit slot at her bank's ATM.

"Welcome to Micronic Enterprises, Research and Development," a mechanical voice said. "All visitors are required to wear their entry log pass while on premises. Log entry: Jake Peterson. Log entry: Cindy Kincade." As the mechanical voice said each name a plastic badge dispensed into a slot. "Your scheduled destination has been encoded on your pass. The back of which will provide navigational instruction."

Each 'pass' was a quarter inch thick plastic rectangle measuring two by three inches. Each was attached to a strong fabric clip by a spring loaded retracting cord. The passes had very good likenesses of their faces on the front. The backs were actually electronic display screens.

The screen's initial display read. 'Hold pass horizontal to the floor, this side up.' When Cindy held hers horizontally, the display changed to 'Go through 2 doors. Then turn right.' There was also an arrow pointing at the corridor access doors. Below this display there was the instruction, 'To request spoken directions or other help, just squeeze a corner of the pass and ask for it.'

The inner door to the corridor access chamber opened and Cindy followed Jake inside. As soon as the inner door slid shut, the outer door opened.

"I think my feet can find the way," Jake said. "But if I'm wrong, it's nice to know that these passes will tell us how to get there. Lets go!"

When Jake stopped at an elevator door, Cindy checked the back of her pass. The directions said to: 'Take elevator to the 15th floor.' Instead of a call button, this elevator had an identi-screen. Jake palmed it and the door opened. It closed again as soon as they were inside.

"Welcome, your programmed destination is on the 15th floor," a mechanical voice said. "To override, select alternate floor with the elevator control buttons."

As the voice was speaking, the elevator began to move. Cindy noticed that according to the control panel, there were 25 floors and 4 basement levels. Then she noticed that it was already going up before the lowest basement level button glowed briefly with an amber light as the elevator passed it on it's way to the 15th floor. Then the other three basement level's buttons did the same. As did the buttons for floors 1 through 14. Then the 15th floor's button glowed green as the elevator stopped and the door opened.

"I think it's this way," Jake said as they stepped off the elevator.

Cindy followed him without comment.

"Welcome to my nightmare," Sandra joked when her lab door admitted them. Then she continued in a more serious tone of voice. "I'm glad your here. Please have a seat."

She gestured towards a round table with four chairs that was near the door. The only other furniture in the room was a desk with a computer terminal and a tall lab table. The main feature of the room was that one wall was covered with unusual looking doors.

"I hope your both ready for this," Sandra said after they were all seated.

"I've got a special process all preprogrammed for you Jake," she continued. "But I'll need to double check a few things before I initialize it. Then, while your so occupied, I've got some plans for Cindy."

"What do you mean, 'double check'?" Jake inquired.

"Well for starters, are you willing to endure a series of virtual reality sequences, while hooked up to some interactive biofeedback devices?" Sandra didn't wait for an answer before she continued. "I should warn you some of the VR sequences will briefly be unpleasant for you."

"If that's what it takes," Jake said with a shrug. "I just want to get this problem to stop."

"Good!" Sandra said. "Now the way this works, I'm going to hook you up to the multi-sensual feedback system of one of my VR chambers. The first part of the sequence will be a short multi-scenario simulation to get some base line recordings. Then there will be a series of biofeedback calibrations where you will be subjected to some preprogrammed biofeedback impulses and asked to try to gently push back against a selection of them. Those will be followed by some more intense simulations. Then there will be some more biofeedback sequences, and so on. By the end of the session you should have better control over the effect your nanites have on others. And I should have enough data to design some effective special purpose filters to modify the effect of your nano-pheromones on some of us."

"Only some of us?" Cindy inquired.

"Yes, only some of us," Sandra explained. "Because they can only modify, not actually stop, the effects of Jake's nano-pheromones. That is to say, that the filters can't quite stop Jake from accidentally triggering an orgy. But they can ensure that a strongly heterosexual girl, such as myself, doesn't start getting the hots for girls in the process. I should be able to do something like that for you too Cindy. It won't block your natural attraction to Stephanie but should prevent Jake's preferences from causing you to get the hots for other women. On the other hand, neither Jess nor Stephanie need one. Because Jake's natural inclinations are not likely to mess with their personal preferences."

"What about Sam?" Cindy asked. "I'm thinking he might be a special challenge."

"Yes he just might be at that," Sandra replied. "I noticed that you upgraded his security access yesterday Jake. I couldn't see why."

"He was going to have to wait outside the transport pod room while Jess explained it to us," Jake replied. "I was also testing my authority to make certain changes at Hillside. Is that a problem?"

"No, not really," Sandra replied. "In Sam's case I don't see it as a problem. But do be careful, there are some good reasons we don't give such nuclear access to the whole staff."

As she watched Sandra back out of the biofeedback-pod she had just tucked Jake into, Cindy wondered if she was ready for what Sandra had in store for her.

"You pose a bit of a quandary for me," Sandra told her. "You know that don't you Cindy?" Then she continued without waiting for an answer. "The fact that this past week hasn't reduced you to absolute hysteria, tells me one of two things. Either you figure your just having a long bad dream so none of it really matters. Or your a stronger person than most.

I'm inclined to think your a strong woman. But I'm not so sure Jake has thought out what I'm going to have to do for you. You see Jake is on his way to becoming a 'very' powerful man. But with that power comes a danger. Some enemy might try to get to Jake through you. And I can't let that happen. So I'm going to have to make you nearly as powerful as you are strong. I can teach you to use special purpose nano-tools to do many of the things that Jake can.

I would advocate that you learn about the physical advantages Stephanie has via her category two nano-augmentation. And find out what Jess's category one does for him. Sooner or later, Jake will undoubtedly offer you a chance to be so augmented. But in the mean time, I'd like to teach you how to use some of my toys. And as it happens I've got a lot of that knowledge, packed in a sort of speed learning form of the biofeedback device I've hooked Jake up to."

"Speed learning?" Cindy inquired. "Sort of?"

"Well it's actually a kind of memory transfer," Sandra explained. "The biofeedback pod will implant a synthetic memory that you will then be able to draw upon."

"But Jake said it wasn't safe to transfer someone else's memories!" Cindy exclaimed.

"That's direct implantation of someone else's memory," Sandra replied. "But you see, a synthetic memory is a collection of non-personalized data, that the biofeedback pod will use your own mind to file away. The data retention rate isn't 100 percent this way, but it's very safe."

Cindy didn't quite see but she had started to trust Sandra. So she just nodded.

"After a half dozen or so sessions," Sandra continued. "You should know enough for us to discus what nano-toys you'd like to play with. Each session will last about 3 hours. And you will need to get some sleep between sessions if your going to retain what you got in the previous session. Now I'm sure you have some questions. I'll answer some of them first if you like. But really the first session will answer most of those better than I could. After that I'll be able to give you answers that make sense to you. Can the questions wait?"

"Yes, I suppose they can," Cindy said after she thought about it for a couple seconds. "But I expect you to set aside the time to give me lots of answers right afterward."

"Deal!" said Sandra as she opened the access door to an empty biofeedback pod. "Jake should be in there for at least another five hours Cindy. So we'll have at least two hours to talk about it. And if you should run out of questions, we can always talk about Jake's problems."

Afterwards Cindy wasn't quite sure just what happened in the pod. It was somewhere between reading about mostly boring stuff and watching a documentary on the same stuff. Yet she felt like she'd had some hands on training with all the important parts. She didn't really have many questions left. She also had a better understanding of what had happened to Jake. Which led to her being curious about why Steve himself had bothered with a voice command system to interact with the house computer.

"I don't know if you know how it came about that Steve set me up with command trigger and closer keywords for the house computer Sandra," Cindy began. "But the thing is, if I understand the stuff I just learned in that pod it doesn't make any sense to me that Steve would bother with using it's voice command system that way when his nanites should be just as capable of directly interfacing with it as Jess's category one augmentation is supposed to be able to. Can you explain that?"

"Well I can't really say why Steve chose to do it that way Cindy," Sandra explained. "But I can tell you that having set himself up with that kind of access makes it easier for him to let someone, who doesn't know about his nanites, notice the interaction. And while it isn't likely to happen, there are a few things the guild doesn't advertise that could cause a nanosymbiont to go offline. In which case having a voice command account to the house computer could be very useful."

Then they spent the better part of an hour talking about Jake and his problems. Eventually the talk got around to sexual issues and her impending date to get it on with Sam while Jake watched.

"You can expect Sam to find a way to ring your bell girl," Sandra proclaimed. "But I'm not so sure it's going to be a good idea for Jake to watch that right after his biofeedback session."

"Why's that?" Cindy inquired.

"Well I didn't know about that date when I programmed his session," Sandra explained. "And there were certain details that I need to know in order to make Sam's filter work. To get them I had included some virtual reality sequences that Jake won't like at all. It isn't very likely that he will be in a mood to be anywhere near a naked bisexual who..."

She was interrupted by an alarm sound coming from the biofeedback pod Jake was in. The door had a series of flashing red and amber lights on it.

"Emergency alert!" a mechanical voice from the intercom said. "Biofeedback systems overload detected. Isolating pod systems from central computer. Danger! Pod containment systems failing. BZZzzK"

There were sparks and smoke coming from the control panel next to the pod door. The door itself suddenly tuned white hot and melted away. Then the lights went out. There was too much smoke pouring out of the pod for the emergency lighting to illuminate the lab very well. There was however a bright irregular glow coming from the inside of the smoke filled pod. That light flashed brightly as both the sidewalls on Jake's pod suddenly exploded sideways through the neighboring pods, all of which were reduced to piles of smoking junk at either end of the room.

In the now otherwise empty space between the two debris piles Cindy saw Jake, like she had never seen him before. He was standing, stark naked, in the center of the area that used to contain his pod. A shimmering glow of light enveloped his body. His facial expression was enough to tell Cindy that he was more angry than she had ever seen him before. He began screaming at Sandra. His words were at first replicated by a mechanical voice that came from the rooms intercom until it burned out from some kind of electrical overload.

"You BITCH!" He screamed as a flow of energy leaped from his body and pushed Sandra against the opposite wall where her body slid up it until her feet were nearly a foot from the floor. "Don't you ever even think of doing anything like that to me again!"

"I'm sorry Jake," Sandra gasped. "But you said I should do whatever it took..."

She started slowly sliding back down the wall until her feet were about three inches from the floor. At which point the energy field emanating from Jake collapsed around him. Sandra stumbled slightly as she fell the remaining distance to the floor. Jake was no longer glowing.

There were some serious looking burns scattered over most of his body. Though they were visibly healing before their eyes. Jake seemed unsteady on his feet. He now looked more exhausted than angry. Though he still sounded pissed when he replied.

"Yeah I guess I 'did' say that," he admitted. "But I sure didn't mean... 'that!'"

"I said, I'm sorry Jake," Sandra said. "It was only supposed to last long enough to detect your nanite's reaction to your feelings and stop before you were even sure what it was."

"Well that sure as hell wasn't what happened in there!" Jake retorted, as the rest of his burns finished fading away.

Meanwhile Sandra had been looking at a small display screen attached to a wide wrist band she was wearing.

"This doesn't make sense," she said. "There is no way your nanites could have already developed sentience. Yet somehow it seems, you succeeded in using them in a coordinated strike against the pods. It appears to have started with the control systems Jake. You must have pushed back against that last simulation so hard that the pod couldn't even disengage it. Then your nanites tapped into the pod's power systems, using most of the power to rip apart the whole pod system. There is no way you should have been able to do that. Not yet anyway."

As she listened, Cindy's feelings ran though all the extremes of surprise and fear and then anger.

"What exactly did you do to him anyway?" it was the anger that showed in her voice as Cindy demanded an answer.

Sandra just looked at her. Her mouth opened but no words came out. Jake however explained.

"If you must know Cindy," he said. "I was stuck in a virtual reality sequence, where it somehow felt like I was actually enjoying having sex with a couple of guys."

"I can't begin tell you how sorry I am Jake," Sandra spoke up again. "It really wasn't supposed to be that intense. Will you ever forgive me?"

"Don't know! Ask me next week," Jake said. "In the meantime, It would be best if you kept your distance while I take few training sessions with Stephanie and maybe a few with Jess." As he said this he looked around at the room and added, "Damn! I trashed this lab but good."

Suddenly the doors to the outer corridor opened and a half dozen heavily armed guards sprang into the lab.

"Nobody move!" their leader commanded, as the overhead lights in the main corridor clicked back on. At which point their ears were assaulted by several emergency sirens and horns.

"Stand down boys," Sandra responded. "This was an accident. There aren't any hostiles here."

"That's not what the sensor logs said," the head guard said as all of them kept their weapons aimed at Jake.

"Before you do something stupid," said Jake in an obviously irritated voice. "I suggest you find out who I am."

The guard gestured at the undamaged identi-screen in the outer vestibule. Jake quickly palmed it.

"Intruder identified," the mechanical voice said. "Command level omega zero recognized."

The guards immediately lowered their weapons. As most of the alarms fell silent.

"Sorry sir!" said the lead guard. "But your not wearing your day pass sir."

"Then you better get me a new one, hadn't you?" replied Jake.

"I'll get right on it sir," the guard replied. "If you'd be so kind as to wait here for a minute or two, it would be most helpful." Then he spoke into a communicator on his wrist. "Dispatch a detail with a portable day pass generator to the remains of the biofeedback lab on the 15th floor. An omega class officer is waiting."

"Yes SIR!" was the crisp response that emanated from the wrist mounted communications device.

Sandra looked around at what was left of the lab and shook her head.

"Yes I'd say you sure did a good job of trashing this lab Jake," Sandra said. "It will take some time for it to be rebuilt. Fortunately I have a few more biofeedback units scattered through some of my other labs, so there won't be a problem with my using one of them to finish Cindy's speed learning lessons."

"Oh yes there will!" said Cindy, while looking pointedly at the ruins of the lab they were in. "I think, I've had my last biofeedback pod session for a while."

A squad of guards in dress uniforms arrived. One of them was carrying a cube shaped ten inch box. The side he presented to Jake, had an identi-screen on it.

"Would you be so kind as to scan your palm into this portable pass generator," he requested.

As soon as Jake complied, a new day pass was dispensed from an opening in the box. The guard held it out to Jake like he was offering to clip it on for him. An expression of horror crossed the guard's face as he realized that Jake's state of undress, meant there wasn't any cloth to clip it to. At this point the guard who had summoned the detail walked back into the lab carrying a long white lab coat which he wordlessly offered to Jake.

Jake attached the pass to the lab coat as he slipped it on but he didn't bother to pull it closed. At this point Jake turned to face Sandra.

"I'm surprised your so calm about this Sandra," he said. "I mean I might have killed you."

Sandra looked him squarely in the eyes.

"No Jake," she said. "I don't see it that way. You of course 'could' have done so. Still could. But you chose not to. When you used the surplus energy you acquired from the pods to generate the force field that pinned me to the wall. You did it so gently that I wasn't hurt. What's more, when that energy began to run out you tried to set me down gently.

When it turned out that the energy was so depleted that the force field collapsed, your nanites protected me from getting burned by the residual energy discharges. Even though that meant they didn't have enough energy left to protect you from the same.

That fact, is the most impressive part you know. Your nanites would normally protect you first but you even managed to override that."

"I do seem to have more control over them than before," Jake confirmed. "I can feel the nanites now. I can feel them coursing through my body. More importantly I can feel them respond to my will."

"I'd like to hear more about this Jake," Sandra interrupted. Then with a pointed look at the ruins of her biofeedback lab, she continued. "But frankly I'd be more comfortable if we finished the conversation someplace else?"

"Actually I think it's time Cindy and I took a transit pod back to Hillside Sandra," Jake said with a slight grin. "But if you'll accompany us to the transit tube, I'll explain a bit more about that on the way." Jake gestured towards the open access way saying, "Ladies first." Then after he followed the girls into the main corridor, he continued. "I've even begun to feel my surroundings through them. For example Sandra, I can sense what must be electrical energy, flowing through the wires in the walls around us. I can also feel my nanites drawing a small trickle of power from it." Then he suddenly stopped short.

"I've just noticed that my nanites have detected some pain impulses coming from the nerve cells in your ankle," Jake said with a sudden frown. "Did you twist it when I dropped you?"

Sandra opened her mouth to say it was only a little bit stiff and that she had some available standard medical nanites that could heal it in less than an hour. However, Jake continued before she could speak a word of it.

"I can't have that Sandra," he said. "Especially since I can fix it."

With that he suddenly reached out and touched Sandra's arm with the tip of his finger. It took only 3 seconds for the pain to disappear completely. Meanwhile Jake continued talking.

"I felt them rush to your injury," he informed her. "Then I felt them healing it."

Sandra just shook her head. That's when she started noticing odd stares in their direction from some of the Micronic personnel that passed by them in the corridor.

"You know Jake, the dress code here is a bit more restrictive than it is at Hillside," she said.

"Yeah that sounds right," Jake replied. "I was just wondering how long it would take for someone to mention it."

As he spoke Jake pulled the lab coat shut and fastened two of the velcro fasteners to keep it that way. This technically covered but did nothing to hide Jake's erection.

"I'm still not sure how your doing all this Jake," Sandra said as they continued walking towards the elevator. "I'm going to have to do some research on it. I'll let you know what I find out."

They stepped inside the elevator and Sandra palmed the identi-screen.

"Transit tube level," she requested.

"Authorization confirmed," a mechanical voice responded as the elevator began it's descent.

Jake turned towards Cindy.

"If your still up for it, I think we should go find Sam," he said. "I'm still lusting to watch you wear him out. If I pay attention, I should be able to keep from twisting anybody's minds this time."

Chapter 12 The People

The people had never had any use for personal names. They referred to each other by rank, as defined by whichever one of them was currently in charge. The people itself didn't have a name either. They call themselves 'people' because they consider anyone else that may exist to be nothing more than animals. This includes even those of their own species who were not part of the 'people's' culture when the people embraced their destiny to have dominion over all things, everywhere.

The people did not offer the others of their species any opportunity to join with the people. The 'others', as the people called them, were considered to be nonpersons. These 'others' were simply confined in medical isolation systems that force fed them whatever nutrients and drugs the medical computers decided would keep them viable enough to be used as test subjects for medical and bio-weapon research.

They were also considered a source of replacement parts. Whenever one of 'the people' were in need of replacing a limb or an organ due to injury or disease, the needed part could be harvested from the most compatible 'other' in the isolation chambers. Though it was rare that any of the people that were sufficiently sick or injured to need this survived long enough to do so. It was more likely that it's infirmity would render it vulnerable to attack from another one of the people.

The medical units were able to override the other's brain functions enough. So that depression and a lack of desire for continued existence, could have no undesirable effect on it's body. Not even an active desire to discontinue it, on the part of an other, had any effect. The suffering the others were forced to endure was not something any of the people cared about.

Their species had never developed any compassion for each other nor for any of their offspring. Their method of reproduction was quite violent. They were not separated into separate male and female individuals. Each adult's body produced both eggs and sperm on a cyclic basis. Both body functions were also separated by several membrane layers. Though it's sperm packet would develop much closer to it's universal orifice than it's egg packet. The only time when an adult's internal egg packet ever became nonviable was when it's active male cycle began. Which state was only detectable by it's actions when it would select a brood mate. Then it would reach inside it's own universal orifice with one of it's chewing claws and tear it's sperm packet from it's own body, causing itself no permanent injury. At which point it would use the same chewing claw to shove it's sperm packet deep enough inside it's brood mate to penetrate it's egg sack.

The brood mate would be mortally wounded by this but would survive long enough for it's own fertilized eggs to hatch and consume it's body from within. In the event that the effective male was the larger, stronger individual and it turned out it's victim was itself in the middle of it's own active male cycle it would then make a meal of it's intended brood mate. It was not common for one in an active male cycle to select a brood mate that it couldn't physically dominate because then, even if it succeeded, it would become it's brood mate's last meal.

The people were even less considerate of the needs or wants of other species. Except when they perceived it could improve a captives usefulness as a slave or their nutritional value as a food source, then the people would allow a minimalistic level of comfort for their captives.

Their slaves soon learned that if they served their masters well, they were somewhat less likely to be eaten by them. Which was a fate more terrible than anything else they were likely to be subjected to. For the people ate only live food.

They were also borderline empaths, who relished the terror and pain their food felt during the feeding process. They had even devised a variant on a medical support system that kept their prey alive and conscious as long as possible during the feeding process.

The people had developed an advanced science of energy field technology. They could do more with complex force fields and energy constructs, including pseudo-matter, than any other known species. They had perfected a form of pseudo-matter that let them store a great amount of energy in a small amount of liquid volume.

This resulted in that they had eventually attained interstellar space travel using a form of subspatial drive. Because they were able to produce a defensive energy screen that was 99.9% effective against the ill effects of the unpredictable energy patterns found in subspace.

The use of this concentrated energy also provided their ships with such massive power reserves as to have a nearly insurmountable edge in battle. The otherwise nameless commander of such a ship would simply be called 'One' when onboard the ship.

As the ship approached it's target planet, it's commander felt elated. The sensor readings indicated a world full of useful resources. It grasped the command circuit microphone with one of it's six, four digited appendages.

"Navigator will establish a standard reconnaissance orbit," One roared into the command circuit. The commander didn't wait for this to be accomplished to issue his next command. "Tactical officer will perform a comprehensive surface scan. It will immediately report any items of interest to me, without waiting to complete it's formal analysis."

Both junior officers knew better than to reply before they had something to report. The Navigator's task was completed first. It picked up it's report microphone.

"Navigation reporting to One," it bellowed. "We have achieved standard reconnaissance orbit."

No sooner had it finished reporting when the tactical operations officer reported.

"Tactical reporting to One," it began. "This is a preliminary report. Early results indicate the presence of a pre-machine civilization. Biological scans indicate the dominant species is humanoid. Preliminary data analysis indicates 90%. probability that they have sufficient intelligence to make both useful slaves and a delectable food source. There are indications that one of the species the humanoids have domesticated may have sufficient intelligence to make them interesting as alternative food beasts. There is no indication of any technology capable of offering resistance. Further details will be found in my forthcoming formal report."

"The formal report can wait," One replied. "There will be enough time to document the details on our return voyage. Navigator will plot optimum grounding trajectories for the reaper shuttles. Tactical Officer will initialize harvest protocol."

Chapter 13 Authority

Jake kissed Cindy as he got up from their bed. She woke up enough to kiss him back. She suddenly noticed that while she was kissing Jake, who was now standing beside the bed to her left, her right hand had automatically started to gently massage Sam's tattooed snake. Which had started to harden again. She also noticed that Jake's somewhat bigger but less decorated tool was hardening as he noticed her activity. So she reached out with her left hand to play with it as well.

Actually, she thought, it wasn't a very good idea to have more sex this morning. Last nights activities had involved several rounds of wild sex play. So this morning, her orifice was somewhat raw. She reluctantly let go of both of them with a sigh. At a questioning look from Jake, she silently mouthed the word, "Sore."

A small organized cluster of Jake's nanites suddenly anchored itself to one of the hairs in Cindy's ear canal. It configured itself into a sort of micro hearing aid which amplified Jake's subvocalizations.

"If you like, I could tell my nanites to heal your chafed areas," Jake's amplified subvocalization filled her ear canal. "While I take turns with Sam using the bathroom. But while I think Sam's morning wood would recover, he appears to be all tuckered out from what you did to him last night. So maybe you should just give that snake a farewell kiss, to inspire Sam's dreams. While we do something else with the day... I'll still have my nanites soothe those stinging sensations your nerve endings are complaining about. Then I think, we should both go have another talk with Sandra. She may have had enough time to figure something out. We can leave Sam a note in the kitchen. How about it?"

For an answer Cindy tenderly kissed Sam's snake tattoo on the lips. Then she turned and blew a kiss towards Jake's erection and headed for the kitchen. Jake followed her.

"Maybe we should call her first," Cindy said. "I'm sure I have her number in my purse."

Jake pushed a button on the intercom.

"Connect to Sandra Amlee," he hadn't bothered with a command sequence but the house computer instantly responded to the command anyway.

"Connecting.... Now!" the mechanical voice of the house computer responded.

Almost instantly Sandra's image appeared on the main room's view screen. She was naked in her bed. She turned her head towards her view screen.

"Oh Hello Jake, Cindy," Sandra's image said without pausing the rocking motion she was making as she sat on Jess's midsection. Then Jess turned his head towards the view screen.

"Pardon us for not getting up just yet," his image said with a wink, as he reached out and gently tweaked one of Sandra's nipples. "But we all need to talk. Why don't we meet in Hillside's dining room in an hour?"

"Make it the bar, and your on," Jake replied.

"Deal!" Jess's image agreed as he returned all of his attention to Sandra.

"I'll be there," Sandra's image said. "But I found some answers for you. You should watch the video I emailed you." At this point Sandra became somewhat incoherent.

"Disconnect and display email from Sandra," Jake commanded.

The image of Sandra's bedroom was replaced by a recording she'd made earlier.

After digging deep in Hillside's files on nanosymbionts I've concluded that something extremely rare has happened to your symbiont's development Jake," Sandra's image said. "It seams that you pushed so hard against that crap I tried to slip past your subconscious that you triggered a direct obedience mode in your nanites.

It's very rare that a host-mind is able to do that without help from a sentient nanosymbiont. However, your nanites haven't had enough time to actually transform into an actively sentient being. So the only known way that could have happened is if you managed to configure them into an army of tactical modules, that I'd call 'nano-pods'. Which can probably tie into your mind via a biofeedback network of some kind. The nano-pods themselves would be able to restructure themselves into a wide variety of powerful, and potentially dangerous micro devices. This would ultimately give you nearly total control over them. But it will also interfere with further development of your symbiont.

It was unfortunate that the triggering event also tainted Cindy's experience with the biofeedback systems. Together, these events lead me to recommend changes in your training plans. I suggest that I actively tutor Cindy, in the use and construction of nanotech micro-tools. Meanwhile I think you Jake, should take some lessons from Jess in how to apply the technology on a larger scale. I think you should both still follow up with Stephanie for whatever physical torture she may devise for you.

The entire screen was replaced with a list of e-mail options.

"Disconnect," Jake commanded and the screen went blank.

Both Jake and Cindy were wearing cutoff jeans and white tank tops as they walked barefoot into the bar twenty minutes later. Mike was whistling something slow and dreamy as he finished wiping down the bar with a rag. As the tune ended he tossed the rag under the bar and spoke up.

"I understand your meeting Jess and Sandra here in a few," he said. "Perhaps I can fix you some omelets for breakfast while you wait? I've also got fresh coffee on tap, or if you prefer, I've got several kinds of tea."

"Coffee regular, and I think a cheese omelet will do for me," Cindy said.

"Add some onion and mushrooms to mine," Jake said. "And if several includes Earl Grey, I'll have it sweet, with just a dollop of whole milk."

Immediately Mike began whistling a lively tune while he produced a couple of large mugs which he quickly filled with their hot beverages. He then bustled out of the room. As Mikes whistling faded, Jake picked up the mug with a cloth teabag in it. After an approving sip, he gestured towards Cindy's coffee.

"Do you want to take one of the tables, or would you prefer to just sit at the bar?" he asked.

Cindy just sat down on the barstool next to her coffee. So Jake took the seat beside her. Then Erika entered with a service cart bearing their omelets and some toast. Which she quickly laid out on the bar in front of them.

"Would you like some juice with that?" Erika asked with a smile.

"Not till I'm done with my tea," Jake replied.

"A little OJ would be nice Erika," Cindy added. "Thank you."

"If you want anything else, just ring," Erika said with a warm smile. As she poured a six oz glass of orange juice from behind the bar. "Enjoy your breakfast." Then she pushed the service cart out of the bar.

Jake was a bit surprised that he finished eating first. Cindy usually ate quickly unless she was busy playing hostess to company or engrossed in conversation but she wasn't the hostess here and neither of them had said anything since Erika left the room. He could sense that she was thinking about something however. So he just put down his fork, sipped his tea and watched her slowly finish. He heard Mike's whistling his way to the bar just before she put her fork down. While Mike was collecting the dishes, Jess walked in with Sandra.

"Good, you've had breakfast," Jess said. As they came to a stop next to the stools Jake and Cindy occupied. "We had a bite on the way, so maybe we can get right down to business."

"The official business can wait a minute or two Jess," Sandra interjected. "We might have all had breakfast but there's a few loose ends I'd like to touch on before we get into the training plan.

First, I'm curious Jake. Did you pick the bar for any particular reason?"

"Yes, and no," Jake replied. "If you must know the short reason why I decided to meet here is because I'm not Steve."

Mike had lowered his whistle to barely audible background music as he waited to find out if his guests had a clue what they were drinking. Now he suddenly cranked his whistle up to something loud enough to make further casual conversation nearly impossible. Next, in rapid succession, Mike suddenly poured a Cold mug of beer, which he handed to Jess. He set a pair of champagne glasses, and an ice filled ten oz tumbler on the bar. Then, still whistling, he produced, and opened a bottle of champagne. The cork of which bounced off the ceiling half way to the dartboard, where it bounced again off the bullseye, and landed in a mop bucket he kept behind bar.

The volume of his whistle had dipped just low enough that everyone heard the 'pop ping thud splunk' of the cork's progress. Then once again, his whistle became just loud enough to discourage discussion. While Mike poured the champagne with one hand and with his other snatched a bottle from behind the bar. From which he poured something blue over the ice. Mike timed it so that both the second champagne glass and the icy tumbler both finished filling at the same time. Then Mike replaced the bottles behind the bar and handed the tumbler to Sandra. Next he handed the champagne glasses to Cindy and Jake. Finally he quickly whistled his way out of the room.

"The long answer is a bit more complex," Jake explained. "It's occurred to me that even though I'm still only Steve's apprentice, I'm already the boss here at Hillside. I'm reasonably sure that Cindy is the only one here who still doesn't know that Steve already transferred the ownership of all of his Earth bound holdings to me. Oh sure, Steve will be back and by and large he's still in charge. But Hillside itself is already mine." Jake paused to take a sip of his champagne before he continued. "As such, I decided to make a few changes to suit my personal preferences, rather than Steve's. So when Jess suggested doing this in Steve's favorite meeting place, I wanted to pick someplace else."

"In that case Jake, I'm curious," Sandra asked. "The fact that the dining room is Steve's favorite meeting place, was an unspoken preference that we learned from experience. I don't think he ever mentioned it to anybody. So how did you know?"

"That's something I'm hoping you can tell me," Jake replied. "I didn't know until Jess suggested we meet there. Instantly, as soon as I thought about the possibility of us meeting there, I suddenly knew it was where Steve would have chosen to meet. This didn't feel vague or hunch like, as the elevator code for the portal chamber did. It was a sudden certain knowledge in my conscious mind. Does that make any sense to you Sandra?"

"Actually, yes," She answered. "It confirms my hypothesis about the biofeedback incident. It would seem that you might have unintentionally established a form of biofeedback as the primary personnel communication interface between you and your nanites. I'm afraid that's the only way your nanites could have provided you with such direct knowledge of Steve's preferences."

"That fits what I know of it as well," Jess interrupted them. "But as long as we're playing twenty questions boss, would you mind telling me what you did to Mike?"

Jake smiled as he answered.

"That man is amazing!" he said. "Of course you already know that. Still it's worth noting that he didn't even skip a beat when I sent one of those nano-pods, to whisper in his ear.

When I wanted a moment to decide how much of this I was going to explain, I looked around for a polite diversion. And suddenly I just knew that Steve would have thrown a bullseye and said something about a round of the usual to Mike. I'm not so sure how he would have told Mike what to serve people like Cindy and myself since Mike wouldn't know what our 'usual' was, at least not yet. But it didn't mater, since using a nano-pod to tell him what I want is more my style."

Cindy had been just sitting there with a blank look on her face as she listened to the others talk. Now she stood up and got in Jake's face.

"What were you thinking Jake?" she demanded. "I suppose you might somehow be their boss now. But you didn't even ask me if I wanted a drink this early in the day. Besides that, you know champagne is 'NOT' my usual."

"True enough!" Jake interrupted her. "Nor is it mine. If you remember I don't exactly have a usual. But we have always celebrated significant events in our lives with champagne, haven't we? And the fact that I've decided to start actually being the boss here. Is at least as significant as when I first became the manager at the store. Isn't it?"

Cindy thought about it for a minute. Then she turned to face Sandra.

"Tell me something Sandra," she inquired. "Does he really own the place now? I know I heard Jess call him boss a minute ago. And Mike sure acted like Jake was in charge. But I'm not getting that impression from you yet." Sandra smiled slightly.

"Well you see Cindy," she explained. "I'm not exactly an employee at Hillside. And while Jake's also the new majority stockholder of Micronic Enterprises, I'm a senior executive. As such even Steve had to put up with my doing things my own way. It was that or fire me.

If Jake knows what's good for him, he'll still take a lot of advice from some of us. But yes, technically he is already the boss. Steve was concerned with certain increased risks he's been facing when he travels lately, so he made the change before he left. But he wasn't going to inform Jake of his upgraded status until after he learned a few things. He asked me not to tell him about it unless the shit hit the fan and he needed to know." Then turning to Jake Sandra added, "Steve is usually good at keeping a secret Jake, so I'm curious how you found out."

"Actually I didn't have a clue that my status had been so completely, as you say, 'upgraded'," Jake explained. "Until I noticed that Hillside's communications computer punched me through to your bedroom without waiting for you to accept the call this morning Sandra. That's when I realized I had enough authority to make significant changes around here. Then it wasn't all that hard for me to get the details of just how much authority he invested in me from the house computer. Which I did while Cindy was getting dressed. I spent most of my breakfast deciding to use my new found power to run this place my way. And perhaps I should mention that there are going to be some changes around here."

At this point, Cindy suddenly turned back to face Jake.

"Your not planning on firing anyone are you Jake?" she asked.

"Hell no!" he replied. "Though I do expect people to treat me like the boss. But I figure that only a very stupid boss wants a bunch of 'yes men' who are afraid to stand up to him when they need to.

No I'm hoping that all of them will decide to stay. Especially Sandra and Jess here. I think both of us would do well to learn as much as we can from the two of them."

"Good!" Cindy replied. Then turned back to face Sandra. "I think you said you wanted to teach me some stuff Sandra, can you teach me enough to keep up with Jake here?"

"Not quite Cindy," Sandra replied. "But if you let me, I'll teach you enough to surprise him once in a while."

"Then I guess that will have to do," Cindy said.

Then she clinked her full champagne glass against Jake's nearly full one and proceeded to drain it in one long drink. Jake knew she was going to do that as soon as she had touched his glass with hers. So he followed suit and drained his at the same time. Then they kissed.

After watching them kiss for minute. Jess forced a cough.

"I hate to tell you this boss," he spoke up. "But if you don't come up for air soon, you'll have to look for Sandra and I in the jacuzzi."

Jake broke the kiss.

"Now that sounds like fun Jess," he said. "But I'm afraid we need to get some work done first." Then after a slight pause, he added. "I'm inclined to go with Sandra's plan. I think that we should probably split up and use the rest of the day fine tuning our separate training plans. But I think we should coordinate with Stephanie tomorrow to figure out some sort of schedule. Are we all agreed?"

"Works for me," Jess said.

"Good!" Sandra said. "Why don't you boys go play with some of your toy's Jess. And I'll help Cindy accessorize."
Jake followed Jess to the elevator. As soon as they were inside Jess placed his palm on the display screen next to the keypad. It was, Jake realized, a variant of an identi-screen. The door began to close as soon as Jess had touched the identi-screen.

"Flight simulator level," Jess said as soon as the door was closed.

"I didn't notice what that was before," Jake mused aloud, as the elevator began to descend. "Because Steve always used a numeric access code. But why didn't he just use the identi-screen?"

Jess realized that Jake hadn't really been talking to him but he answered anyway.

"Well now that's probably because Steve's been using keyed in codes for a long, long time," Jess said. "But I don't think he really bypassed the identi-screen's functions. There was a time I tried to memorize a few of his codes. But I soon learned that most of them wouldn't work unless he was there."

"Now that you mention it," Jake said. "I suddenly know that was because his nanites authenticated him as he punched in the code... I don't know Jess, these nanites tell me lots of stuff. But it's like I have to guess part of it. Then If I'm right. I suddenly know for sure. And usually I suddenly realize a little more than I'd actually guessed. But it's spotty, you know, sort of hit or miss. I never know when I'm going to trip over something Steve knew."

"I'm afraid that's how it's going to be boss," Jess said with a sigh. "It has to do with the way you mastered your nanites before they could really form a sentient network in your brain. You know that questors, as the guild's true nanosymbionts are generally called, are actually kind of rare. But you Jake, your really something special. Most questors have to go through their nanosymbiont to control the details of what their nanites do. Your nanites respond directly to your will. This will eventually result in your becoming significantly more powerful than the average questor. That is if you live long enough to grow into it. And your going to need that power boss. A questor's world is full of dangerous enemies you know. By the way, your also something quite special in another way that you might not have figured out yet."

Jess paused for a moment. He wondered if what he was about to say would really be news to Jake. Before he could finish explaining however the elevator door opened. They stepped into a large chamber with a series of doors that reminded Jake of the biofeedback-pods he had destroyed.

"We may need to rethink your training plan Jess," Jake said as he laid eyes on the pods. "I'm not so sure I'm ready for more biofeedback."

"These aren't biofeedback-pods," Jess replied. "These simulators actually use a full surround audio/video display system in conjunction with gravity control and inertial transfer systems. To physically simulate the experience of flight in whatever vessel is being emulated. But before I begin teaching you to fly every kind of space going vehicle in the guild database. I need to explain the most special thing about you."

As soon as Jess had said that these weren't biofeedback-pods, Jake had known it was true but he really didn't have a clue what Jess was trying to explain.

"OK Jess, spit it out then," Jake said.

"I mentioned that a questor's world was a dangerous place Jake," Jess began. "But I didn't tell you that sometimes the biggest danger is his obligation to the guild. The guild's council has at times imposed constraints that prevented Steve from doing things he believes he should have done. But because Steve didn't get your consent to being bound by a questor's oath, your not as beholden to the guild as the council likes. The more your power grows without your pledging yourself to their code of conduct, the less the council will like it. The idea of a loose cannon with the power of a questor frightens them. And that would be so even if your nano-symbionce was developing normally into the duality, of a sentient nanosymbiont sharing your power with an unbound host-mind.

Such a nanosymbiont would be bound to it's own code of conduct, which would mitigate some of what you could accomplish if you decided to be an enemy of the guild.

But in your case Jake, you are developing direct control over your nanites. There won't be a sentient nanosymbiont to prevent your violating their precious rules. And believe it or not Jake, when they realize that, it will scare the piss out of them. There are of course some things your nanites simply won't do. But you yourself are not bound by the guild counsel's will.

Steve messaged me that he suspected that this might be happening shortly after you arrived at the front door, having already learned how to override your subconscious control. And that's why Hillside is yours now, and not Steve's. When the council learns what kind of training I'm about to give you, they will quickly figure out just how powerful your going to be. They might try to coerce you into joining up. But until you know enough to be sure whether or not that's the right choice for you, just remember they really can't force you to. But they can and will make trouble for us unless you do. However since Hillside is now yours, rather than Steve's, they can't force our computers to tell them any more of our secrets than you deem prudent. And the longer it takes for them to realize your developing direct nano-control, the easier it will be for all of us. So I'd like to suggest that for now, you authorize the house computer to initialize security protocol Jess-plan101a."

Jake had listened patiently. His nanites had also confirmed most of what Jess had said.

"Tell me something Jess," Jake requested. "You've worked for Steve for a long time haven't you?"

"Yes Jake, I certainly have," Jess replied. "It's hard to say how long though because I've spent a significant amount of time in hypersleep. But I've spent about 500 years of subjective time in his service. And no, this earth isn't my native home."

"That fits," Jake said with a nod. Then he stepped up to the identi-screen next to the elevator door and palmed it. "Initialize security protocol Jess-plan101a." There was a brief crackle as if a surge of electricity had run though the communication line.

"Command authority accepted," the house computer's mechanical voice said. "Protocol Jess-plan101a implemented."

Jess sighed with relief and smiled.

"Now before we begin," Jess said. "I'd like to know if you know why I'm going to get you qualified to fly so many other kinds of spaceships. Before we get into the nuances of the guild design star drive?"

"I'm not completely sure Jess," Jake replied. "Why don't you just go ahead and tell me?"

"Well there are actually two reasons," Jess said. "Both relate to the way it subjects it's passengers to about as much subjective time as it would take a beam of light to travel the distance. The first reason is me. I'd simply not live long enough to get very far. Unless of course, I spent the trip in stasis or hypersleep. The second reason is you. Oh your capable of living long enough. But because you haven't developed a sentient nanosymbiont to endure the boredom for you, you'd lose your very will to live."

This sounded right to Jake but it left him with some questions.

"How is it then, that Sandra seems to think I'm going to be so much more powerful than a regular questor?" Jake asked. "I mean, one of the things Steve did tell me was that a questor's greatest power was the ability to spend so much of that travel time preparing for whatever task needs to be done when he gets there. How am I to do that if I have to travel in a stasis field?"

"Well for starters, you'll most likely still develop a true symbiont eventually Jake," Jess replied. "Though thanks to your ability to control your individual nanites so completely, it could take a few hundred years to emerge. Until then, the best we can do is to build you a custom artificially intelligent ship's computer, for you to sync up with m'lad. But if it's gonna do for you, what Steve's nanosymbiont does for him, It'll need an accurate personality map. And we canna build one that it can use till we've got a record of at least a year or two of your thought processes. In the mean time your just going to have to settle for shorter range transport."

Chapter 14 A Walk In The Woods

They had been walking for the better part of four nights. Before BillSong bagged a FlingAt with the new TechnoBow Questor had given him. The morning twilight had only just become strong enough to hide the ShellGlow. As he slowly reeled in the nano-thread his bow had tethered to his hunting dart. Less than a subcyclet later he was holding the carcass. That would otherwise have fallen into the gloom below.

"Look at the size of this FlingAt!" he said. "It's at least twice the size of the ones you've been bagging. Don't you think?"

"True enough," Questor said with a grin. "Of course, I'm thinking you just need a bigger target than I do."

BillSong didn't bother to argue the point. As he quickly carved out over half a sublift of meat. Turning to Questor as he flung the remains of the carcass over the edge.

"I'd like to make camp a little early tonight," he said. "So that I can cook and preserve this meat."

Questor pointed at a great trunk barely visible ahead.

"If we camp by that tree," he said. "We'll have access to TreeWells to replenish our flasks and even clean up a little."

BillSong thought of the simple pleasure of a good sponge bath.

"Deal!" he confirmed. "But I'm taking a side trip down the next SpongeFruit vine."

"OK," Questor replied. "And I'll forage, for some greens, to go with the steaks."

Just then they felt the surface of the BranchCritter's shell shake slightly. As a huge SnarlClaw dropped onto it less than a dozen arms away from them. Almost without thinking BillSong fitted a nano-bolt to his bow and began to point it at the crouching beast but Questor stepped into his line of fire.

"Wait a moment," he said. "I'd rather not kill this magnificent specimen if we can avoid it."

He held up his stick, as if he were going to look at the beast through the viewer in the handle. Instead of looking however, he made a roaring sound through it. His voice was amplified to tree shaking proportions. While a fine mist of specialized nano-pheromones flooded the SnarlClaw's central nervous system. They generated a very strong desire to stay away from the smell of humans. It worked. With a final snarl at them the huge beast jumped into the foliage below and was soon lost to sight.

"Well that's one SnarlClaw," Questor said cheerfully. "That I doubt we'll ever see again. Better still since this was 'his' neighborhood. I think it's unlikely that there are enough StingRats around here. To make much of a nuisance of themselves today."

"You're probably right about the StingRats," BillSong said. "A SnarlClaw is about the only thing StingRats are smart enough to run from. I just wish I had your confidence about not seeing anymore of that SnarlClaw."

BillSong stepped up his pace on the BranchCritter's shell to a brisk walk. Occasionally hopping over one of the seams between the shell sections that let the BranchCritter slowly change the shape of the curved path that it formed between the huge trunks. A BranchCritter had to move to keep it's symbiont foliage vines supplied with sunlight.

A few cyclets later he noticed where a SpongeFruit vine was trailing down from above. It was draped across the edge of the next shell section. He veered towards it. It took a couple of cyclets for him to climb up the vine until he was within reach of a few clusters of the sponge like fruit.

With care he selected a forked stem, on which a cluster of eight SpongeFruit hung closely together. He carefully took hold of the stem. Being careful not to bruise it's surface. Which would make it's glue like sap leak through the vine stem's thin skin. Then with his perma-sharp belt knife he cleanly severed the stem with an angled cut through the knobby part where it clung to a bigger stem. He carefully slipped the fruit cluster into his foraging sack. Then he tied it to his belt and began climbing back down.

Questor had smiled when he saw BillSong veer towards the SpongeFruit vine cluster. He knew the man would get plenty of the suds filled fruit. So he turned his attention to the assortment of vine types that he could see hanging down below the edge of the shell. He paid particular attention to the ones with something worth eating and he planned a quick gathering foray.

Questor instructed his nano-morphic clothing to become a loose fitting, multi-pouched network of elastic webbing. Then he pointed his stick toward the edge of the shell and launched a dart which immediately split in two. With the smaller segment swinging on a thread around the edge of the shell to anchor itself in the vines just below.

The larger segment itself swung on an arc from it's new anchor point. Until it connected with an ideally located larger vine and firmly anchored itself. Questor jumped over the edge, swinging in an arc on the thread attached to his stick. Which brought him close to several edible items. With his free hand he swung a harvesting blade that he'd formed from one of his nano-morphic pellets. With a slashing scooping motion he filled the pouch, that had formed between his left leg and his left arm, with some broad leafed greens. Then, at the far end of his swinging motion, he grabbed hold of another vine. With several rapid slice and grab motions he stuffed half a dozen clusters of a small purple fruit into the pouch between his right leg and right arm.

Next he shortened the thread connected to the anchor he'd just used as a pivot point. This pulled his body up the thickening thread. When he reached the right height he began to shorten the thread connected to the anchor near the edge of the TreeCritter's shell. This pulled him sideways until he was he was in position to swing himself back up onto the BranchCritter.

Along the way he passed a blue melon like fruit the size of his head. Which he tucked into the pouch that stretched between his knees just before he sliced it's stem.

Meanwhile BillSong reached a point on the vine that was just a few arms directly above the BranchCritter and dropped onto it, landing nimbly on his feet. Just as he got there he saw what looked like a virtually naked purple skinned Questor swing forcefully back out from under the shell. With an assorted selection of tasty looking produce clustered about him in various nets which seemed to cling to his body. Questor landed about 4 arms from BillSong.

That's when BillSong noticed that the net that held the MelonNut suspended between Questor's knees was a pouch that also contained Questor's genitals. He noticed this because Questor had crouched slightly to cushion his landing and BillSong saw the MelonNut rub against them. He spoke up immediately.

"I hope you don't think I'm having anything you might be planning on making with that MelonNut you just rubbed your... ah stuff on," he said. "Whats wrong with you anyway?"

Questor was casually taking things out of the net like pouches that his clothes had become. First he set a large bundle of greens down on a ridge of the BranchCritter's shell. Next he gently placed the purple InkBerries on the pile of greens. Finally he reached through the opening just below his naval and scooped out the MelonNut.

"You mean you're worried about what touches this?" Questor paused as he rapped on the hard blue shell with his knuckles. "I could stick it in a pile of manure for a month. And as long as the shell doesn't have any cracks the kernel inside would be untainted."

BillSong knew the truth in Questors words but it didn't change his feelings any.

"I wish it had only been manure that you just touched it with," he said. 'That' wouldn't have bothered me!"

Questor just stared at BillSong for a moment. Then it dawned on him why it had bothered the man so much. He began to laugh. It started as a slight giggle somewhere deep inside. Then it slowly expanded to a hearty guffaw. When he finally wound down he commanded his nano-morphic garment to return to it's usual form.

"Well if it makes you feel any better my dear sensitive boy," he said. "I fully intend to wash and inspect the shell for cracks. Before I crack it open. But if it still bothers you I won't be offended if I get to have all the delicious nut paste to myself. Oh and don't worry. In the future I won't use that pouch for any goodies that I really want to share with you. OK?"

BillSong just shook his head and started walking.

The foliage vines were thinning out as they neared the giant trunk. It was getting difficult to see the vines hanging down below without leaning over the edge. Then BillSong finally spotted a suitable cluster of vines to make a decent nest for today's camp. He began making the nest just the same way as he had the others. He quickly climbed down to an opening in the foliage mass that he could crawl into.

He cut away some of the vine stalks that were in his way. Then he crawled in a little further to reach some of the thinner vine stems from which to weave the platform. That's when he suddenly realized his mistake. He hadn't slowed down enough as he crawled in to properly check the shadows. He had been too busy 'not thinking' about the MelonNut to think about the risk of disturbing a StingRat's nest. Until that is, his hand found a spot on the vines that was smeared with something that felt slimy.

He looked up just in time to see an ill tempered beast that must have weighed nearly three lifts, snap it's whip like tail in his direction. The neuro-toxin coated barb pierced his neck before he could even flinch. Almost without thinking he lashed out with his perma-sharp. Neatly decapitating the StingRat. Before it could move in for the kill. BillSong was surprised to find that he had time to tangle himself in some of the thinner vines. Before the numbness creeping though him cost him his grip on them.

Lacking the floor like platform he hadn't had time to build. He should have fallen to his death below. He was vaguely puzzled that he was still awake enough to wonder about it. He should have been unconscious before he'd had time to kill the StingRat, never mind lash himself in.

He awoke to find himself laying in a course hammock inside a cozy 'L' shaped two room nest. The floors had been carefully woven from slender vines. In what looked somewhat like the style of the kind of semi-permanent nest commonly found in NesterVille. Though it wasn't quite in the traditional pattern.

He was in the smaller of the two rooms. It was connected to the sidewall near the back of the larger room, by a series of bark lashings connecting the sides of the wide door like opening. His position was such that he could just see Questor leaning over a bio-stove. On which there was a pan of what smelled like stew.

"Good morning," Questor said without turning. "Or should I say, afternoon? I do hope you've had, a good sleep. Though I'd recommend we stay put for another night anyway. But what I need to know right now, is if you really won't eat any of this stew. If I thicken the broth with some of that nut paste? Aside from which it'll taste much better if you let me add some dumplings while it finishes cooking."

BillSong was famished.

"You did wash it like you said, right?" he asked.

Questor took that for an answer and tossed in a small pile of paste balls. That would soon cook into flavorful dumplings. Then he turned to BillSong and brandished a crystal pipe packed with blue leaves.

"I think perhaps that you should replenish your nano-meds before we eat," he said. "Most of the ones from the last bowl we smoked expended themselves dealing with the poison from that nasty sting. As well as repairing the nerve tissue it had directly affected. Not to mention healing the neck wound itself."

BillSong automatically checked the floors integrity with his hand before rolling out of the hammock. He was pleased to find that there was enough head room to stand up straight. The floor hardly swayed as he walked to the bigger room where Questor was cooking. There were even a couple of stool like 'chairs' with a small platform to serve as a table in between them. They were all built into the wall. Such as might have been done in one of the more rural nests along the outskirts of NesterVille.

Questor had evidently put enough work into this nest for it to remain viable for an extended stay. This close to the roots above it could take a hundred days for it to become overgrown enough to actually need trimming. He sat down on one of the chairs.

"OK, I always did like blue asulrod," BillSong said. "And I suppose that if you're willing to spend your nano-meds on me. Well, I should just be grateful." He paused as he pointedly looked around at the nest. "Don't you think you over did it a bit for a two day stay?"

"Perhaps I did," Questor said with a smile. "But I had to do something to keep busy while you slept it off. Besides we might find this nest useful on the way back."

As he spoke he sat in the other chair. Then as soon as he finished speaking, he sparked the bowl taking a slow deep hit off the pipe. Next he held his breath as he passed the pipe to BillSong. Who in turn wasted no time taking a deep hit of his own. Then while he held his breath BillSong tried to pass the pipe back to Questor. Who was still slowly exhaling but Questor held up his hand.

"No, you finish it," he said. "I don't need any nano-med replenishment. And given the number of StingRats in the woods I'd much rather you built up a reserve."

BillSong thought about it for a moment.

"Thanks! Don't mind if I do," he said. "But I think I'd better answer a call of nature first."

He stood up and placed the pipe on the table as he headed for the entrance. Where he pulled back the flap of woven vines that served as a door. As he looked outside for a good handhold. He saw that Questor had even built a 'porch' platform. With a ladder like set of steps leading up to the shell's edge above. He turned his head and noticed a hollow seated bench built into the other end of the porch. Which was positioned where any falling debris would likely miss the foliage below and thus fall all the way to the muck of the forest floor. He turned back to Questor.

"I thought you told me that you've never been to NesterVille?" he asked.

Questor picked up the pipe from the table.

"Strictly speaking I haven't," he replied. "Nor do I believe, have any of my brethren questors. But there have been guildsmen there. Some of whom have even been invited inside a few nests. So it should be no surprise that the guild's data base had quite a few images for me to study."

Then taking only enough of a hit to relight the pipe he handed it to BillSong. Then he spoke out what little smoke he'd just sucked in.

"But do take this with you as you answer the call," he continued. "Mind you I'd appreciate it if you don't drop it out there."

This bit last was said with a wink that told BillSong that Questor wasn't really worried that he might actually be so careless.

Without a word BillSong took the pipe and began to take a series of small hits to finish the bowlful as he stepped out onto the porch. Once there he noticed that Questor had even thought to fashion a few well placed clothing hooks on the inner vine wall of the porch. On one of which hung his foraging sack. Near the seat Questor had even drawn in and tethered a leafy tendril from a nearby vine. Which was one of the varieties that produced a strong leaf with a soft dry surface.

As per nester custom, BillSong didn't feel at all uncomfortable with removing his pants and hanging them up. As he prepared to use the facilities that were traditionally located on the 'front porch' of all properly constructed nester homes. Which were usually clustered along the edges of the thinly foliaged area surrounding one of the great trunks.

He didn't even need to consider that this porch was so far from NesterVille as to make unannounced guests unlikely to drop in. Public nudity during the use of such facilities, that were expressly built on the front porches where it was easiest to avoid splattering the foliage below, was as customarily expected a behavior as was publicly taking a sponge bath at the nearest suitable TreeWell. Though otherwise, nesters tended to consider public nudity to be somewhat rude.

Since he was using the facilities on his front porch however, he wasn't overly distressed at being intruded on while he sat so exposed. When a shapely pair of legs descended the steps from above. The legs were followed by the rest of a strikingly beautiful woman. Who was dressed in the traditional garb of a WildRunner.

"Would there be a guildsman within?" she casually asked him in a warm melodious voice.

BillSong nodded and unconcernedly plucked a few leaves from the tethered vine tendril. The newcomer politely waited for him to wipe his posterior. Before she introduced herself.

"I'm MoonCloud," she said. "Mind if I go inside, to talk with him?"

BillSong retrieved one of the SpongeFruit from his sack and washed his hands with it before he extended one of them.

"I'm BillSong," he said. "And you certainly may enter to talk with Questor."

MoonCloud had taken the offered hand in a traditional handshake as he spoke. Two things seamed to happen at once when he referred to the guildsman within as 'Questor'. MoonCloud's green eyes popped wide open with surprise and Questor quickly stepped outside.

"Hello I'm Questor," he said. "You must be MoonCloud. Did you have any trouble finding us?"

"Not at all," she said somewhat stiffly. "The coordinates NesterVille's guild agent supplied, were most precise." Then with a slight edge in her voice she continued, "Unlike his description of you. He entirely failed to mention your title."

Questor grinned slightly.

"Well, I'm sure he wanted to avoid calling attention to my presence on XenDar," he replied. "I'm afraid I didn't tell him that I was going to tell you. Nor for that matter, that BillSong here knows it. But in any case, please do come on in."

With that Questor stepped back inside followed by MoonCloud. Leaving BillSong to politely don his pants before following them in

Questor and MoonCloud stood facing each other as Questor added a thin mixture of nut paste to the stew to thicken the broth. Then he shut down the bio-stove's cooking element. MoonCloud looked around for portable protean converting equipment.

"That does smell delicious," she said. "I've got that item you requested stashed in a somewhat inconvenient place. Mind if I disrobe to more easily reach it? Or should I step back out on the porch first? Ah, is that really unprocessed local proteins you got there?"

"Sure is," Questor said. "Would you like some?"

BillSong answered her other question with a traditional nester expression.

"Feel free within, our nest is as yours," he said.

MoonCloud slipped off her poncho, revealing that it was the only garment she was wearing. She casually turned it inside out and opened a concealed pocket that had been between her shoulder blades. Taking a thin pouch from the pocket she followed up on Questor's offer.

"I'd love to partake of your feast," MoonCloud asserted. "But I must ask how you expect to safely digest it?" As she spoke MoonCloud proceeded to hand the pouch to Questor before slipping the poncho back on in a fluid motion.

"Well actually we use asulrod laced with some rather potent nano-meds for that," BillSong informed her. "It's quick acting so you really could have some stew if you like."

MoonCloud thought about it for a moment. The stew really did smell inviting. She was hungry. She prided herself on being a quick judge of character and her first impression of these two was OK.

"Well nano-meds would do it I suppose, she said. "Though I've never much liked the way blue asulrod makes me think so deeply about things I'd rather forget. And I'm in no mood for the hyperactive reaction I get on the red. So unless you've got some blossom, I'm afraid I'll have to pass on that great smelling stew."

"Well now I'm afraid 'I' don't have any blossom," Questor said. "Though I dare say that I could work up another way to get you a dose of nano-meds. But if you'd prefer asulrod blossom, you could ask BillSong here if he'd like to share the one in his stash."

BillSong looked at Questor, then at MoonCloud who was looking right back at him.

"Well how about it," she asked. "Do you want to share that blossom?"

BillSong turned to face Questor.

"You said there was another way?" he asked.

"Yes, I could work up a pill or something if she likes," Questor replied.

Her voice sounded icy as MoonCloud interjected.

"Well if he doesn't want to share the blossom with me," MoonCloud interjected in an icy voice. "Then I guess I'll settle for a pill if it'll get me some of that stew."

"It's not that I wouldn't share a blossom with you MoonCloud," BillSong explained. "I'm just not so comfortable with the idea of sharing such a strong aphrodisiac with Questor here."

She laughed.

"Oh you're so silly," she said in her usual melodious voice. "You wouldn't be sharing the effects with him. Both of you would be sharing them with me! It's been so long since I've done anything so wild. Are you sure you won't share?"

Without another word BillSong opened up the bio-stove and he soon had a nano-meds laced blossom in his hand.

"If you're sure," he said. "You can pack the bowl."

Then he handed it to her, along with Questors bowl. MoonCloud smiled. She sat in one of the chairs and placed the pipe on the table. As she gently smelled the pungent aroma of the blossom. Which, like all hydroponically grown asulrod, began rapidly drying out the moment it had been taken out into the open air. In less than a cyclet it would be ready to crumble and burn. MoonCloud reached into one of her poncho's many pockets and produced a thin sheet of synthetic paper. Which she unfolded and placed on the table by the pipe. She sniffed again at the blossom as she held it over the paper and crushed it between her fingers. Half a subcyclet later she repeated the process. The third time it began to crumble and fell onto the paper. A couple subcyclets later all that was left was a small black resinous pile on the paper. Next MoonCloud curled the edges of the sheet. Twisting them until she could use it like a funnel to pour the crushed blossom into the pipe.

"If this blossom is half as potent as it smells," she said. "Then that stew needs to be ready to eat when I spark this. Otherwise I'll never get around to eating any of it."

Then she turned to face BillSong.

"Are those nano-meds really fast enough for that?" she asked.

BillSong looked at Questor.

"I'm thinking you're the nano-everything expert, so?" he prompted.

Questor smiled.

"If they weren't I never would have suggested she ask you to share them," he said. Then he turning towards MoonCloud. "Yes, they are fast enough," he explained. "That you would even survive if you didn't smoke it until after you ate a bowlful of the stew.

But if you smoke first you won't even feel the discomfort you usually get with converted local proteins. And you're right. You do need to really be ready to eat. Or you'll lose interest in the stew.

BillSong, I suggest you take the other chair. I can make a stool, of my stick. I'll set up the tableware. But I'm not pouring stew till the pipes out.

MoonCloud, did you say you planned to spark that up?"

As he spoke he pulled a few spoons and bowls out of his pack.

MoonCloud chuckled and flipped the front corner of her poncho up over her shoulder. This reexposed one of her breasts. Revealing that at least one nipple was already excited. She reached into an inside pocket that was now easy to reach and pulled out an 'old guild' style palm sized multi-tool unit.

"Dad-auto-ignite," she said as she flipped her poncho closed.

Then she pointed it's directional antenna at the bowl. Whereupon a high intensity spark leaped from the antenna, igniting the crumbled blossom petals.

"Ladies privilege!" she said as she sucked the first intoxicating hit into her body.

She held the hit in for a moment. Then she slowly exhaled and passed the pipe to BillSong.

"OK then," BillSong said.

He wasn't surprised to discover that the fire in the still slightly moist petals had already extinguished. Yet even as he noticed that, MoonCloud pointed her multi-tool at the bowl end of the pipe. Which was about three inches from his lips when a spark jumped from the antenna, accurately targeting the asulrod. His first hit from the pipe filled his lungs with blossom smoke. BillSong held in the smoke savoring the arousing sensations. That had immediately started to seep into his body. He absently passed the pipe to Questor as he stared into the deep wells of MoonCloud's green eyes.

"May I?" Questor spoke with his hand poised just above the multi-tool.

With an effort, MoonCloud tore her attention from the mirror deep pools of BillSong's own green eyes. She turned to look instead into Questor's eyes.

"Promise me," she said. "You won't disable or otherwise damage it. And I'll even let you inspect it more closely Questor. But before you bind yourself to that promise, you should know that it was my fathers own personal multi-tool. And that he was once indeed, an actual Spacer of the old guild."

For the second time while he attempted to savor a hit of the excellent and surprisingly smooth asulrod, that Questor brought with him to XenDar, BillSong found himself so distracted by something he had just heard that he choked on the smoke in his lungs. Though this time it only took him about half as long to stop coughing.

"Well if you're quite done with that M'boy," Questor said. "I'll answer the lady. Yes! MoonCloud you do have my word. And indeed even my life bond as a questor of the new guild. That as long as your father's multi-tool doesn't attack me first, I will do nothing to harm it."

Questor hesitated but he made up his mind and continued speaking so quickly that he alone was aware of the pause in his words.

"Even as I once promised an old Spacer who wouldn't report for upgrading," Questor said as he looked deeply into MoonCloud's eyes. "And neither would he risk converting his core implants to the new experimental 'nanite network' based system. 'That I wouldn't ever try to find him.' And I didn't! Though I long knew where he went.

It wasn't like the kind of life bond that can now be invoked by a nanosymbiont. As part of the code of conduct embedded in our nanites themselves under the terms of the nanosymbiotic pact. It was just a simple promise from one old Spacer to another."

He might have found the expression that suddenly crossed BillSong's face when he acknowledged that he was once a spacer of the old guild to be laughable. If he wasn't so intent on the effect his words were having on MoonCloud and so far she hadn't reacted to his words. So he prevented BillSong from interrupting by rudely placing his finger firmly against his lips even as they opened to voice his protest. Then Questor continued speaking to MoonCloud.

"It pains me greatly to know that if I had only broken faith with my word bond to him your father might still be alive. Your father was once a dear friend of mine. And I could have saved him. So think well girl. It's up to you whether I spark up that bowl again and share this blossom with you. In which case I'd love to see how your father kept his communication systems safely hid from the old guild. For all the long years it took for us nanosymbionts to reform it.

That should be enough to hold my interest. Until BillSong here runs out of steam. Otherwise, say the word now and I'll put away my pipe as neither of you will need any more of it tonight. But in that case I would still ask. If I may spend some time looking at your fathers ingenuity."

There were tears forming in MoonCloud's eyes as she finally reacted to his words.

"You?!?" she exclaimed. "You were the one he used to talk about?

He said that you alone knew him well enough to figure out where he was. But he was always so sure you wouldn't ever come here. Unless first he was dead."

She hesitated for a moment.

"He also left a message for me," she continued in a much softer voice. "That this multi-tool gave me after his passing. It said, among other things, that should I ever meet you, I should consider how well you had honored your promise to him. For all of my life and all the long years he lived among the trees before he met my mother.

Then, he said, I should make up my own mind about you. So I will tell you. You're wrong to think that you could have saved him by breaking faith with your promise.

The thing that kept him alive, through all those long years of hiding, was the knowledge that the one man who could have tracked him down, for one guild or the other, simply wouldn't. He took great solace from that knowledge."

She paused to halfheartedly wipe some of the tears from her eyes before she continued.

"Had you ever broken faith with your promise, he would have lost his belief in honor itself," she said with conviction. "And that I believe, would have ripped his very being apart, far more than that damn SnarlClaw ever did to his body. You didn't 'let him die'. You 'saved him'! And for that I thank you.

Now please do spark up. Lets eat, then I'll open the command center to your inspection. That should provide you with enough distraction from your growing ah..." She glanced at Questor's crotch as she finished, "anticipation as you wait for your turn."

MoonCloud found the stew to be even better than she had hoped. As did BillSong, though he wasn't as surprised by the lack of the bitter aftertaste that converted proteins always left in his throat. It was delicious... Still he wasn't sorry to see the bowls become empty. By then he had other things on his mind.

"I seem to have an itch in an inconvenient place," MoonCloud asked BillSong. "Mind if I disrobe that you might more easily scratch it for me?"

"No need to ask," he replied. "I already told you that our nest was as yours. I don't remember either of us telling you otherwise."

It was the next afternoon by the time they said farewell to MoonCloud who had been sleeping for the last couple of hours partially entwined with BillSong while she lay at at an angle with her head resting on Questor's stomach. BillSong had awoken to see Questor gently stroking the hair on the back of her head. Then as she slowly began to wake, MoonCloud impaled herself again on BillSong's manhood while she leaned forward and once again tried to swallow Questors oversized tool.

It took BillSong a few moments to decide that he didn't mind sharing her attentions with Questor anymore. It didn't even bother him that she wasn't exactly taking turns this time.

"I understand you two are planning on going someplace tonight," MoonCloud asked, when they were all once again satisfied. "I got the impression that you might be gone awhile. Would you mind if I stayed here in your nest for a few days?"

BillSong was getting dressed as she spoke.

"Oh MoonCloud," he replied. "Of course you may. Did I not say our nest was as yours? You may feel free here as long as you like and return to it as your own place anytime you like.

It is my hope that someday soon, when Questor's business is done, I might find you here again. And I do not speak thus because of the blossom's influence. Though I'd not object to a repeat performance, should you so choose. But what I'd really like, is to get to know you better. I offer my friendship. With or without the lure of the sex play that I hope you enjoyed as much as I did."

"You do know I'm a WildRunner, do you not?" MoonCloud asked with a chuckle. "Let me assure you that our reputation as a bunch of free spirits who are generally willing to bed anyone who's company we can stand for more than a couple of cyclets is entirely well earned. And trust me, I 'like' your company. It would take me much more than two cyclets to ever tire of it.

I'll never promise monogamy to any one man but I'd gladly welcome you or your friend's company any time. Funny thing though, I think I'd like to spend some time alone with just you BillSong. So please do look for me here or anywhere else in the forest that I might find you. To be sure my friend, I'll be looking for you."

"OK my horny little lovebirds," Questor interrupted them. "That's enough of that kind of talk or we'll never make it to a TreeWell to clean up before BillSong and I must go." As he spoke, he pulled on his clothing that today resembled an elongated version of MoonCloud's poncho. Except that he clinched the lower corner sections to his waist with a belt that had once looked like a hideaway backpack. "I think I like your style of dress girl. I'll probably model my own after it every time I'm on XenDar. And perhaps a few other places as well. I think we should all go find a TreeWell. But first I've a couple of tokens to give.

First to you MoonCloud I'd like to give you the pipe we smoked from last night. I've given your multi-tool sufficient command authority over the nanotech within it that any smoking material you use your multi-tool to ignite in it will become laced with sufficient nano-meds to keep you happily eating all the unprocessed local proteins you want. The pipe will use of itself to do this. But it should last you for many years before it becomes uncomfortably small. When it does, have the local guild agent ask me or indeed any questor and they will most likely replenish it for you without charge.

To you BillSong I offer the pouch that MoonCloud brought to me from the local guild office. I've arranged for a guild trade ship to deliver those new TreeCrawlers we spoke of. This contains everything you will need to claim them. As well as a collection of pre-certified offers you can use to insure the personal wealth I promised you...

Shall we go get cleaned up now?"

Both of his companions were staring in near disbelief at the gifts he had just bestowed upon them. BillSong spoke up as MoonCloud casually slipped into her poncho.

"Well I thank you Questor," he said. "But I haven't earned it yet."

"Perhaps not," Questor replied. "But you will. You see I'm already quite certain that you didn't seed the site with those coin like artifacts you once showed to a guild employee. And I've decided to honor our bargain even if it turns out that someone else did. Now shall we go?"

MoonCloud was the first out the door. She felt more happy to be alive and free in the forest then she ever had. Somehow it seemed that when she absolved Questor of his misplaced guilt, she had also finally let go of a great sadness that had tormented most of her young life. As they followed MoonCloud outside BillSong turned to look Questor in the eyes.

"Wait a cyclet," he said. "I just realized something. How could anybody, even a fleet footed WildRunner, possibly get all the way here from NesterVille's guild office overnight?"

"Well now 'that' would have been quite a feat," Questor admitted with a grin. "It was no small feat for her to get all the way here from there, in only the five overcycles you were unconscious. The toxin's contained in a StingRats sting are more potent than anything I've ever encountered. Lucky for you the nano-meds you got from the asulrod we smoked are also quite potent."

When the boys caught up to her MoonCloud was already sitting inside the outer ridges around the spot on the TreeWell where the BranchCritter was attached to it. Her poncho was sitting at her side. Along with a larger pile of things than BillSong would have believed she'd had concealed in it's pockets.

"I hope you boys brought the SpongeFruit," she said. "Should we bath ourselves? Or avail ourselves of the privacy of the deep forest. And bath each other?"

Before BillSong could tell her that he favored the second plan. Questor spoke authoritatively.

"No! None of that," he said. "We start down that road and we'll need another sponge bath. For which we'd have to go get more SpongeFruit.

BillSong and I intend to actually set off while there's still enough of the night left for us to walk far enough to be worth the effort."

With that he reached into BillSong's bag plucked out two of the four remaining SpongeFruit. He tossed one to MoonCloud before tossing his garments, which now greatly resembled the kind of poncho that was traditionally worn by a WildRunner, on top of hers. Then he began lathering himself up.

Then after they both watched MoonCloud lather up BillSong peeled off his clothes and soon followed suit. By the time they were all sudsed up Questor had briefly immersed himself in the small pool of water that formed at the junction between the TreeWell and the BranchCritter. One at a time the other two also rinsed off.

No sooner had BillSong climbed out of the pool. Than Questor tossed all of their clothes into the slightly sudsy water the TreeWell now contained.

"While they soak for a bit," he said. "I'll avail myself of the privacy of the deep forest. And fetch us some drinking water from one of the unattached TreeWells above us."

Then, still naked enough to cause a scandal in NesterVille, he left the sanctity of the communal sponge bath. Neither BillSong nor MoonCloud were offended however. They watched him climb up the side of the tree's trunk without even using the stick he carried as a grappling hook. Somehow his fingernails had transformed into strange metallic claws. That could grip the rock hard bark as securely as even a FlingAt could.

As they looked up to watch him climb up over their heads neither MoonCloud nor BillSong could help but notice. The way his nearly erect member slapped against the tree every now and again.

"You'd think that would hurt," BillSong said. "When it hits the rough bark like that. Wouldn't you?"

MoonCloud just chuckled, as she had been thinking the same thing. All she said was, "Ouch!"

Questor had always found public nudity natural and quite comfortable as well. He considered that clothing was for optional decoration and when needed, as protection from the environment. Including local customs and regulations on the subject as a part of the environment of course.

He also had no doubt that when he returned with the drinking water. He'd find those two entwined in another round of 'fare thee well' coupling. The very thought of which was why his tool was protruding enough to occasionally slap against the tree.

Questor wasn't really so opposed to their spending a little more time on their lovemaking as he had made himself sound. In fact, it was really part of his plan that they should. He felt a little guilty about the fact that he had done something he rarely lowered himself to do.

He had used his nano-pheromones to manipulate the emotional focus of others. He had taken care to look closely enough. To be quite sure that they'd be compatible as a couple before he let himself meddle but meddle he did.

He had wanted the best for his old friend's daughter. Would have even if she hadn't forgiven him but he knew he wouldn't be staying on XenDar. He'd also realized that she would never be happy anywhere else. So she would need someone who was going to stay here looking out for her.

He had already decided to set up BillSong with a lifestyle. That, as it happens, would give him the power to offer her some protection. He had also decided that he would try to ensure both of them as much happiness as he could. So all night and nearly all of the following day he had used his nano-pheromones to train their brains. Strengthening their natural tendency toward bonding with each other. He could also see however, that both of them loved their freedom too much to be happy feeling tied down. So he had also done everything he could do. To insure that they would really accept each others raw sexuality. So that neither would feel betrayed when the other chose to bed someone else.

He was out of sight of the couple below when he reached an unattached TreeWell where the water would be pure enough to drink. Though he was not out of the range of his enhanced hearing. The sound of their coupling was unmistakable. He could also hear MoonCloud whispering to BillSong.

"Tell me that your not going to get so hung up on me that you'll stop bedding all those other women," she whispered. "I simply can't belong to any one man and I'd hate to see anyone I like in that kind of agony. Especially over me."

Questor commanded his stick to form a water tight pouch around it's middle and to suck in clear water from the smaller, purer pool deep inside the crevice of the unattached TreeWell.

"Besides that," he heard MoonCloud adding, as he gently attached a line to the TreeWell's edge and began to rappel down to them. "Sometime I'd like to get to watch... I saw you enjoying the show when I tackled Questor's monster. And I think I'd enjoy watching you just as much."

As he approached, Questor could hear that their breathing was becoming a little irregular. He was just 3 arms above them when he heard BillSong answer.

"Alright! If that's what you want," he said. "But if you really want to watch me bed some nester girl, you'll probably have to come in to town. Because it's almost impossible to entice any of them to take so much as a single step into the deep woods."

"Then may we be friends... forever!" MoonCloud replied.

Then their breathing became very irregular and full of gasping sounds. Questor patiently waited until their breathing began to return to normal before he reached down and picked up MoonCloud's waterskin.

They were still looking into each other's eyes and so hadn't noticed his return until they heard the slight gurgling sound as he poured nearly half of the water into her water skin just above them. He smiled at their startled faces and handed MoonCloud her waterskin, while managing to spill a single drop of the cold water on one of her nipples. Then he lightly brushed the waterskin itself across the other nipple as he handed it to her.

As soon as he was standing next to the TreeWell Questor reached into his pack, which no longer resembled a belt, from which he took two water bottles and quickly split the rest of the water between them. He handed one bottle to BillSong. As he reached into BillSong's sack and tossed the last SpongeFruit to MoonCloud.

"I'm thinking you'll be wanting this," Questor said. "BillSong on the other hand will have to wait till we make our next camp. Before he can wash off the evidence of why we got off to such a late start." Then he faced BillSong.

"You'll be much more comfortable," he added. "If you wait till your cloths dry before getting dressed. So since we are in the 'deep forest' lets 'avail our selves of it's privacy' and start walking."

He then stuffed his damp poncho into his pack and began to walk along the BranchCritter's shell twirling his stick like a baton.

"Come along BillSong," Questor called over his shoulder. "It's time you earned them TreeCrawlers. Your stuff should all fit into that sack of yours."

Chapter 15 Something About Cindy's Makeover

"I think we should do this at my lab Cindy," Sandra said after the boys left the bar. "We can talk on the way."

"OK by me Sandra," Cindy replied.

Sandra led the way to the elevator. When they got there she pushed the 'up' call button. Cindy frowned slightly.

"Umn you do know the transit pod is downstairs right Sandra?" she asked as the elevator door opened.

"Sure do," Sandra replied, as they stepped inside. "But there is also a twice daily shuttle flight between here and the Micronic's R & D facility where my lab is." As she spoke she pressed the third floor button. "I make a point of using it often enough to keep anyone from wondering how I go back and forth so often. The helipad is in the back yard, just behind the hilltop from Steve's cabin."

The elevator opened and Sandra led Cindy through the screened in section of the main roof deck and out to the so called back yard by way of the rear access ramp way.

As she walked across the metal ramp. Cindy looked over the hand rail and saw that the side of the hill sloped down only a few feet before it touched the back of the building. At least that's how it was in the middle. To either side she saw a well like opening, into one of which a small trickle of water flowed from the side of the hill. She couldn't quite hear it gurgling it's way over the edge however because there was the unmistakable sound of a larger, though unseen, waterfall coming from the well like opening on other side.

The path beyond the ramp continued up the short distance to the crest of the hill where there was an iron gate set in a stone archway. On either side of which a tall chain link fence ran along the edge of the hill. Just inside the arch there was a slight recession where a pair of identi-screens were somewhat protected from the weather, one on each side of the gate. Sandra palmed the one on their side. There was a click, and the gate swung open.

The area was heavily wooded but the forest wasn't so thick that Cindy couldn't see that this side of the hill was almost level for a considerable distance. Nor did she miss the fact that there wasn't much of a downhill before the landscape began climbing a somewhat taller hill. It was actually the start of a series of rolling hills. Which Cindy thought might explain how there was enough water in the underground streams to feed the great hall's impressive waterfall display.

To the left there was a parking lot with one of those company jeeps in it. Cindy could see a gravel roadway on the other side of the lot. To the right was a flat grassy clearing. In the middle of which Cindy saw a helicopter of a design she hadn't seen before. Though it reminded her of a jet copter she had seen in some action movie.

With some trepidation she followed Sandra into the open door in it's side. There were four airline style seats in the main passenger area. Behind them was a small cargo or baggage area. In front of them there was a transparent partition where she could see the pilot sitting. His seat was turned halfway towards them. He waved, then his voice came though an intercom.

"Welcome to my trans-Micronic's shuttle service ladies," the pilot's voice was clear but slightly distorted by the intercom. "Please be seated and buckle up. We are scheduled to take off in a minute."

As the pilot spoke he pressed a button and the outer door slid shut. As soon as they were strapped in, the pilot's seat turned forward. There was a soft whine from above them as the rotor began to spin. Thirty seconds later the sleek looking helicopter lifted off the hill.

"We are now en route to our local Micronic Enterprises Research and Development Center," the pilot's voice said. "Our ETA is 20 minutes."

Sandra took a small palm sized device out of her pocket. She pressed a button which almost immediately began glowing brightly with a green light.

"Now we can talk," she began. "I don't know how much you really know about the security procedures at Hillside and/or my lab Cindy. But even though I mostly trust the eavesdroppers at both places. I'm more sure of complete privacy here. That is, as long as I have this green light. But 20 minutes isn't very long so if you don't mind there are a few things I need to tell you while I'm sure we aren't being overheard."

Cindy was puzzled what kind of secret would make Sandra act so mysteriously.

"OK, you have my attention," she replied with a nod.

"First you might not realize," Sandra continued. "That many of the people you've met at Hillside so far, are not exactly from our planet. Most of the local staff have been on an extended vacation to protect them from Jake's ahh, lets call it nano-adolescence.

By the way Cindy, you should be aware that Steve is actually one of the very first questor's. He had been a spacer of the old guild, when their central command authority became corrupt. The spacer's all had specialized devices implanted in their bodies. That, among other things, let them directly interface with their ship's computers. There came a time when their central command authority was requiring upgrades that would make it possible for the implants to override the spacer's will. They wanted to turn them into an army. Fortunately for Steve, the technological genius who was supposed to perform many of the upgrades, had just invented a way to embed a nanite control system inside a cluster of a new kind of networked nanites. Thanks to which those Spacer's he upgraded were immune to any such overrides.

The professor's original design had one very big flaw however, the nanites started becoming self aware. Steve's were the first to become sentient. Fortunately they liked the emotions that Steve's natural brain enabled them to feel. They also recognized the danger that they themselves represented. It was Steve's nanites that negotiated the original nanosymbiotic pact with the rest of the new nanites. They helped Steve rewrite their own firmware to ensure that they would serve, obey and protect their host-mind. Then they proceeded to impose the changes on the rest of the new nanites.

That was how the first true nanosymbionts came to be. It's also why the guild is so testy about allowing anyone else to create anything like their kind of nanites. They don't generally interfere with other nanite systems. Just as long as the nanites involved aren't any form of networked nanites, that can also reconfigure and/or replenish themselves. Even so, Steve is the only one out of all the guilds questors, as they call their nanosymbionts, that I trust completely.

What that all leads up to is the fact that so far, I'm the only non-nanosymbiont 'Earthling', to ever have full access to most of the technical details of guild nano-science. Steve entrusted me with it several years ago.

I'm careful not to actually violate the guild's restrictions. But I've been developing certain aspects of nano-science that would still make the guild council rather uncomfortable. With enough time, I can do almost anything with nanites that Steve can. Though mine are more task specific and can't self replicate.

You wanted a way to keep up with Jake. Well if you'll trust me and can keep a secret, I can just about do that for you.

Part of it would involve a special kind of medical nanite that can enhance your strength and reflexes almost as much as Stephanie's category 2 augmentation does hers. At least for short periods. Another part would be yet another kind of special medical nanite that can provide a nano-link between your mind and a special computer control system. It's not as effective as Jess's Category 1 augmentation. And unlike his it will only give you a link with a very special personal computer that I'll have to build for you.

But I'm not going to do either of those things unless you agree right here and now, to keep them a secret from everybody, including Jake. That would of course mean you couldn't use these abilities very much. Except during a secure private training session."

"Wait a minute!" Cindy interrupted. "I'm not so sure I want those things in me Sandra."

"Of course your not sure," Sandra agreed. "But if you'll swear secrecy, I'll teach you enough about it for you to really make up your own mind about it. And in the mean time I'll also be teaching you how to make lots of little nano-toys. Everything from beauty aids to space weapons."

Cindy really wasn't all that sure but she did want to be able to keep up with Jake.

"Well I'll promise to 'try' to keep the secret," Cindy said. "But I'm not so sure I can keep Jake from figuring it out. He might even use his nanites to scan my thoughts or some such thing."

"Actually Cindy, you seem to understand part of the problem," Sandra said. "But there is a limit to how much detail even a questor can pull from someones mind. Their not quite telepathic. And their nanites are specifically programmed not to rip a brain apart to get at the info inside it. What they can do though is to watch everything you do and say, while they scan you with very accurate emotion and lie detection methods.

Jake however, is a special case. He is developing into a very rare type of nanosymbiont. His nanites are less able to resist his will. Someday he may even have the capability to use them to actually extract such information directly from a living mind. That fact alone will undoubtedly earn him some powerful enemies, even if he is careful never to use that ability. These would be the kind of enemies that put everyone associated with Jake at risk."

"You mean some nut might take a shot at one of us, just to hurt him?" Cindy interrupted.

"That's possible too Cindy," Sandra replied. "But I was thinking about someone taking you hostage to get leverage on him." Sandra paused to let the idea sink in. "The truth is, there are some real dangers for everyone around Jake right now. And unfortunately that goes double for you. The best way I can think of to keep you safe, is to give you an edge that his enemies won't suspect.

But getting back to your keeping a secret from him. He already helped me design a special nanite filter to keep him from messing with your head."

"Wait, I thought all you could do was to limit how much he accidentally messes with other people's sexual preferences and shit like that?" Cindy interrupted again.

"Well that's how the regular nano-pheromone filter works," Sandra explained. "But he really wanted to protect you. So the day he trashed my lab, I got enough data that the one I build for you will be able to convince his nanites that he 'really' didn't want them to mess with your brain at all." Cindy frowned.

"But if all it does is tell them he didn't want them to, can't he just tell them he changed his mind?" she asked.

"Yes and no," Sandra continued. "First he would have to realize exactly how my filter works. I'm pretty sure it will be awhile before his nanite communication skills develops enough for him to get that kind of quality information from them. That's assuming he really works at it.

Don't forget he really doesn't want to mess with your mind. His feelings were quite strong about that. He isn't likely to actually change his mind, unless we give him a reason to. Which we won't as long as we don't make him suspect the abilities that I hope you'll let me give you. Which is why you must never talk about these secrets at all until Steve gets back.

We must also be careful that nobody sees you use your new skills, of course. Then, as long as we don't give him a reason to wonder just how good the nanite filter I've built for you really is... Which he won't, unless we do something silly. Like giving you complete immunity to the general state of arousal his nanites inspire in everyone around him when he's hot to trot. If we do this right, he won't have a reason to wonder how much protection I'm building in to this thing.

We won't be able to fool Steve when he comes back though. But if Steve decides I can let you keep the custom interface, it will be OK for Jake and a few others like Stephanie and Jess to find out.

You should be aware that I'll be walking a thin line with this stuff. Steve might decide that I'm getting too close to infringing on the the aspects of guild nanotech which would cause them to intervene. Which in turn could cause him to make me pull the plug... In which case it won't much mater anymore."

Sandra paused for a minute. Then since Cindy wasn't saying anything she continued.

"You don't actually have to give me an answer right away," she said. "Because if and whenever you tell me that we have a deal, I'll know what the deal is and can begin teaching you the secret stuff. But if you've got any questions you need to ask me first, you better ask them quickly. Where almost there." Sandra pointed at a small display that said 'ETA 3 minutes' and waited to hear whatever Cindy would say.

Cindy didn't say anything until the display said 'ETA 1 minute'.

"Even if we have a deal, your still not going to load me up with all those nanites unless I decide it's OK right?" she suddenly insisted.

At which point the green light, on the device that Sandra was still holding out where they could see it, suddenly changed to a flashing red one.

"We're arriving at our destination," the pilot's voice said. "Please remain strapped in until we touch down. I hope you enjoyed your flight."

As he spoke the helicopter rapidly descended towards a roof top helipad. As soon as the helicopter landed the soft overhead whine rapidly faded as the rotor slowed to a stop. When it stopped completely there was a loud buzzing sound and a flashing light by the door, which then slid open. The pilot's chair had again turned far enough that he could look at them over his shoulder.

"You may disembark ladies," his voice said. "And do have a nice day."

"Yes Cindy those were the terms of our bargain," Sandra said guardedly when they were standing on the roof. "Does that mean we have a deal?"

Cindy nodded.

"Yup I guess we do at that," she agreed.

Sandra smiled and said, "Outstanding!"

"OK where do we start?" Cindy asked, the moment they got to Sandra's nano-systems lab.

As she spoke she looked around at the room and it's contents. It was easily 3 times as wide as it was deep. The far wall consisted of a nearly continuous row of windows. There were two desks, one on each end of the room. Each desk had a computer terminal on it. Between the desks there was one long table. In the center of the table there was a device that Cindy thought looked something like a giant microscope. Except that there wasn't an eyepiece. Sandra walked to one of the desks as she began to answer.

"Well for starters I need to set you up with a control login," she said.

The desk had two chairs behind it. As Sandra sat down in one of them, she suggestively pointed at the other. While Cindy sat down beside her, Sandra typed a few commands. Then she positioned the keyboard in front of Cindy.

"I need you to make up a temporary password," Sandra began. "You can change it later. And it's more for appearances than effect anyway, as our systems will actually recognize you by various bioscan processes. But passwords are one way you can covertly tell the system, whether or not your under duress."

After Cindy confirmed her new password, the terminal informed her it was initiating a tutorial.

"I know you got some of this from that biofeedback session Cindy," Sandra explained. "But this tutorial has some details that wasn't included in that session. Why don't you see how much you can learn. While I set up some toys for you to practice with." When Cindy nodded, Sandra moved to the other desk.

The Tutorial turned out to be easy to use and Cindy was soon enjoying it's lessons. One of which included some details on the differences between the different kinds of nanites in the guild's database. Specifically the ones that the guild classified as restricted technology.

Prime (questor grade): Self replicating, multipurpose, nanites that are capable of self modification via embedded networking capability. These are encoded to require symbionce with a designated host. Once bonded with their host, 'Prime' nanites develop into a sentient network that serves and supports the native host-mind. Further details on this category are restricted.

Augmentation: Special type of nanites, with limited multipurpose capabilities, used to augment the capabilities of various non-questor guild personnel. Augmentation grade nanites are directly constructed programmed, and maintained by prime nanites. They come in 4 categories:

Category 0: Medical: Able to protect it's assigned host from most known natural diseases. And defend against most bio weapons. Can also heal most injuries. And maintain youthful vigor for a significantly extended lifespan.

Category 1: Direct Techno-mental Interface: (includes Category 0 function) Provides two way control interface between assigned host's brain and almost any technological device Including many that were not specifically designed for remote control. Category 1 nanites do that by forming nano-pods, capable of interfacing with the device. Note: Using nano-pods potentially depletes nanite reserves. Though the nanites can be recovered if the nano-pod successfully returns to it's assigned host's body.

Category 2: Physical Enhancement: (includes Category 0 function) These nanites increase physical strength, reflexes and via a biofeedback mechanism. They also improve the physical coordination of their assigned host. Category 2 can also include a rare variation able to provide certain physical adaptions. Such as forming temporary artificial gills to prevent an air breathing host from drowning.

Category 3: Combination Techno-mental and Physical Enhancement: (includes Category 0, 1, & 2 functions) The deployment of Category 3 augmentation is strongly discouraged by the guild council.

Enhancement: Similar to Augmentation except generally less effective. These nanites must be constructed and individually programmed for specific tasks by an external nanite construction system. They are generally classified under the same 4 categories as guild augmentation grade nanites (This type of nano-technology is known to exist outside the guild.)

General Use: (Purpose Built): Similar to Enhancement grade in that they must be constructed and individually preprogrammed by special constructor systems. This includes a wide assortment of tools and devices, from simple pliers to personal computers. Generally anything constructed out of nanites. This grade of nanite is also used to manufacture most prepackaged nano-medical treatment packages. (This type of nano-technology is known to exist outside the guild. It is also widely marketed by the guild.)

"OK you've been at it long enough for now Cindy," Sandra eventually interrupted Cindy's reading. "You can pick up where you left off from any terminal here at any Micronic Enterprises facility or one of the terminals at Hillside. Right now I want to talk to you about the toolkit I've made for you." As she spoke, Sandra held up a pink shoulder bag that looked like a pocketbook to Cindy. "It's actually a specialized nano-tool construction system. And it can be configured in a variety of colors and styles.

It's got the capacity to build many nano-devices. Everything from a sonic defense shield generator to this pair of sunglasses that's really a scanner-viewer. It lets you see almost anything." As she said this Sandra pulled something resembling a pair of sunglasses out of the bag. "Such glasses can emulate the functions of anything from a telescope, to a microscope or even an X-ray machine. Well they don't actually use X-rays, But if you want to, you can effectively look right through most materials. Their processing logic is so good that once you learn how to program it you can easily check out the body art on a fully dressed stranger."

Sandra held out the sunglasses to Cindy who tried them on. To Cindy's surprise they didn't darken the room. They did take all the glare out of it however. Then she turned towards Sandra and somehow clearly saw that she was wearing a pink bra and panties set. Which almost instantly faded to transparent giving Cindy almost as clear a view of Sandra's body as if she had been standing their naked. Sandra laughed at the blush that suddenly tinted Cindy's cheeks as she realized that Sandra knew exactly what she was staring at.

"Of course, if you decide to walk down a city street with these things set to auto-voyeurism mode," Sandra continued. "You might sometimes see sights you'd wish you hadn't. Now let me show you how to switch the bag and goodies to another style of color coordinated toys."

Sandra pulled an inner gray liner from the bag which extended until it covered the whole shoulder bag. The liner had a drawing of a keyboard on it. On this keyboard image Sandra typed a command and the liner retracted reveling that the bag was now black.

Then reaching into the bag Sandra pulled out a slim black four by six inch case. Sandra opened the case to reveal a mirror and several shades of makeup along with some fine applicator brushes.

"In addition to being configurable to whatever shades and colors you'd like," Sandra said. "This makeup kit comes with a special feature."

She snapped the kit shut and reopened it. Only this time instead of make up and mirror, the case appeared to be a miniature laptop computer.

"Once it's been set to your bioscan readings, this control device will only work for you," Sandra explained as she handed it to Cindy.

There was a message on the minicomputer's display screen.

'If and when you let me set up that nano-link, you'll be able to access most of it's functions without so much as taking it out of the bag.' As Cindy read that, another message appeared below the first 'Personalization identi-scan complete.'

***

"What exactly did you mean when you said 'it's your fault' that Wildernest's transdimensional coordinates need to be recalibrated Jake?" Stephanie said acidly. "I was planning on introducing the two of you to my friend Kernislarn today."

"You wanted us to meet someone?" Cindy spoke up. "I thought you were going to give us some 'physical' training." As she said this last part Cindy pointedly ogled the dancer's exposed nipples.

"It was during my first visit to Hillside," Jake said. "Before Cindy and I agreed to an open relationship."

"Steve brought me here to see the waterfall. And I suddenly realized I had to do something to prevent having a romp with this hot sexpot on the other side of the portal."

Stephanie snorted.

"Oh please!" Cindy said.

"It's true!" Jake continued. "This was just before I found out about your fling with Dave. So you see Cindy, at that point I was still working at avoiding such things." Both girls looked at him skeptically. "Anyway, I shut it down the first way I was sure would work. I turned off the primary power."

Stephanie's mouth fell open.

"You mean the portal link was active when you..." Her voice trailed off.

Then she asked the computer how much longer the recalibration would take. The results were inconclusive.

"Looks like Kernislarn won't be helping me with your training this week Jake." Stephanie said with a sigh. "But if the portal was really linked when you trashed it, Steve must have initialized the recalibration process almost immediately. Even so, we will probably have to wait another month or so. I bet Steve reamed you out good for this."

"Actually Steve was rather soft spoken about it," Jake alleged. "It was like he was in shock. I don't think he had a plan to cover the possibility. Of course, he was also still trying to sell me on this apprenticeship thing."

"OK then, it's time for plan B," Stephanie said. "I can tell you one thing though Jake, You'll be having sexercises with Kernislarn before you'll be jumping my bones again."

"Oh great!" Cindy butted in. "What did I do? I was looking forward to us having some sexercise."

Stephanie suddenly stepped up to Cindy, deftly lifting up the front of her T-shirt and began rubbing her nipples against Cindy's.

"I didn't say 'your' sexercise would have to wait that long Cindy," she explained. Then just as suddenly Stephanie let go of Cindy's shirt and stepped back. Cindy's shirt didn't quite settle into place because it got hung up on her very erect nipples.

"In the meantime Jake," Stephanie continued. "While I think you've got enough control now to watch us sexercise without interfering, I'm going to have to get somebody else to help with most of your physical training this week so that I can focus on Cindy's initial training. I'm going to ask Al if he will be your exercise buddy for now. Then by the time we get to Wildernest you should be ready for combat training." Jake slowly shook his head.

"I don't think your being quite fair Stephanie," he said with a sigh. "But I'll do it your way. I think I'll see who's having a soak in the jacuzzi while I'm waiting to hear from Al. Tell him to look for me there." Then Jake stepped into the elevator, and was gone.

"Well if he's going to be in the jacuzzi, I think we will start in the pool." Stephanie told Cindy. "But I need to talk to Al first. Will you meet me there in an hour?" Cindy nodded, and said "OK, I'll just go there now, and skinny dip till you get there."

The girls took the elevator to the basement level. Cindy immediately stripped and dove in the pool. Stephanie took a cart down the hill to look up Al.

***

MoonCloud awoke from a frightening dream. She was already forgetting most of it's details but she remembered that in her dream something was seriously wrong with the BranchCritter above. She resolved that as soon as there was enough daylight to see in the dark places near the BranchCritter's under belly. She would examine it closely.

MoonCloud arose as the morning light started to creep into the nest. She climbed through one of the openings in the upper wall of the nest. Carefully she made her way through the foliage. Evidence that it had recently been the stomping ground of a large voracious StingRat was everywhere. More so than it should have been. There was very little evidence of the many FlingAts that should have been passing through. She figured that the StingRat must have been trapped inside the foliage clump by some threat that prevented it from going out much.

Thus it must have been depleting the FlingAt population faster than they were recolonizing the clump. The only threat she could think of that could keep a hungry StingRat so cooped up was a SnarlClaw. Though she had no idea what could keep a SnarlClaw focused enough on such a small part of it's territory to keep the StingRat cooped up long enough to completely deplete the local FlingAt population.

Then she realized what could happen to a BranchCritter. That didn't have enough FlingAts feeding on it's BranchTicks. She immediately made her way close enough to the BranchCritter's underbelly to confirm her suspicion. The poor thing was infested with them.

She quickly harvested some SpongeFruit and made a pile of the stems on a large leaf. When she had collected as much as she thought she could work with. She returned to the underbelly of the BranchCritter. The root stalks of the existing vines were sparser than they should be but there was still very little room for her to crawl through. Her poncho would certainly have snagged on something. So as much as she disliked the idea of any of those BranchTicks getting on her skin. She shed it and fastened it to a vine just below where she intended to work.

She fastened her multi-tool to her left wrist and placed her sharpest blade between her teeth. The large leaf with it's load of stems full of adhesive sap she placed on her belly as she began to creep, face up and naked, through the small crevices between the vine roots.

As she crept through she examined the BranchCritter's underbelly. When she found a BranchTick embedded in it. She would carefully nip at it with the knife. She didn't want to kill it while it was still deeply embedded. Because then the BranchCritter's wound would fester.

Instead, she simply made it uncomfortable enough to back out. Though considering that her own tender flesh was just below it. She needed to be ready to stick it good. Just as soon as the back of it's head became visible and before it fell onto her skin. Then she'd cast the body aside to land were it may.

She'd quickly slice off a piece of the SpongeFruit stem. Next she would hold the stem carefully until the glue like sap formed a large droplet. Then before it could drip on her she'd shove it, droplet end first, into the hole the BranchTick had made. Finally, just before the sap began to drip from the other end, she'd tear off a small piece of the leaf and use it to smear the sap around the opening.

Thus she turned the bits of stem and leaf into an effective bandage. She also looked for the scars where a BranchTick had previously feasted. These she would scrape clean with her knife. Then plug them with a piece of stem.

Every now and then she would skip plugging a hole. Because the BranchCritter needed some of these pocket like openings for FlingAts to stash seeds, nuts and other foodstuffs into. Invariably they would forget where they hid a few of the seeds, long enough for some of them to germinate.

This was a vital process for the BranchCritters life-cycle but under normal circumstances there would have been so many hungry FlingAts snacking on the BranchTicks. That there wouldn't be so many wounds that the BranchCritter was weakened to the point of sickness. As it was she plugged nearly two hundred holes. For each one she left unplugged.

When her supply of SpongeFruit stems was depleted she would crawl out and head for the TreeWell with one of the SpongeFruit. When she felt clean again she would harvest some more SpongeFruit stalk and begin again where she'd left off.

She kept this up until the light began to fade. Then she returned to the nest and slept the night away. The affected area was so large that it took her 17 days to complete the job to her satisfaction. By then there were a few FlingAts, beginning to help but it had been a near thing. The BranchCritter was greatly weakened and in fact, had started to lose some of it's foliage, as one root stalk after another slipped from it's grip and crashed to the forest floor below.

Her prompt action however, had given it a chance to begin to heal. Soon it's health began to improve and it stopped dropping vines. She was pleased to notice that the stalks on which their nest was suspended remained firmly embedded in the BranchCritters underbelly. She resolved to stay at this nest for at least another 17 days. Just to keep an eye on the BranchCritters health.

Chapter 16 To A Backwater World We Go.

The three of them had spent a couple of hours enjoying a hearty breakfast in the bar while they discussed Jess's plan for Jake to fly an actual training mission. Which would update their database on the status of a backwater planet. Which had last been visited half a century ago. Sam had asked if he could tag along. He was still a bit bewildered by all the new information that he'd been learning since Jake had upgraded his security clearance just over a week ago. He felt he needed to actually see some of this interstellar traveling for himself in order to make sense of it all. He'd actually known that Steve was from another planet for most of the past two years but he was still having trouble realizing just how many of his friends had actually been off planet. Besides which, some of the nanotech toys Sandra had set him up with, didn't seem to have much practical use here on Earth.

"Actually Sam, the portal isn't guild technology," Jess was explaining. "It's ours. Don't get me wrong, the guild has a thorough understanding of sidereal travel. Heck they knew about it before the reformation. It's just that they have always used a side effect of their stardrive to open a deep space rift to travel between one alternate universe and another. Steve on the other hand figured out a more efficient way to do it. There are a few caveats of course but once we have the relative resonance value of a particular universe, we can generally open a direct portal to it.

Even if it's a universe that a guild ship would need to make half a dozen sidereal jumps to reach. On the other hand, the portals physical range is limited by the distance and any relative velocities involved. It's not exactly a speed of light issue. But the farther away the destination is physically, the longer it takes to establish a link to it. And the more power it takes to maintain the link as well.

That's why we will be taking a short range star shuttle through a portal aperture and then use the shuttle to cover the physical distance."

"I thought you said it was because I needed some hands on practice with the fringe effect drive system?" Jake interrupted with a grin.

"That too Jake," Jess replied, without missing a beat. "You've learned all I can teach you with the simulators." Then for Sam's benefit, Jess explained a little more. "Using a subspatial fringe effect is a lot safer than actually entering subspace. But it's tricky. Not only do you have to hit the barrier at the right angle to get were your going, but you have to hit it with just the right amount of power. Too little power and we won't anchor ourselves into the fringe barrier well enough to get much distance. Too much power and we risk passing through it into true subspace."

"Which would of course be very bad," Jess continued after a slight pause. "Because we wouldn't have the means to protect ourselves from it. Even with high grade medical nanites we probably wouldn't last long before we went 'totally spacey'. Which in the absence of a highly specialized defense screen, would happen very quickly."

"Speaking of the slight risk of actually passing through the barrier Jess," Jake interrupted. "Didn't I read that the Free Spacer Alliance was trying to develop a new design fringe effect drive. Which would be safer because it never quite touches the actual barrier?"

"Yes I've heard of that," Jess replied. "It's a great idea if they can actually get it working. They're not actively sharing their research on it with the guild of course but I don't think they've found a way to stay in the fringe effect zone that way yet. At least not long enough to get very far with it.

But getting back to the medical nanites I mentioned. I was about to say that the subject reminds me of something I wanted to ask Sam. So Sam, have you decided what to do about Sandra's offer of some Micronic Enterprises enhancements yet?"

"Well sort of," Sam replied. "She convinced me that having some of her nanites wouldn't be that bad an idea. But I'm still a little nervous about such things messing with my mind. I mean she already set me up with some nice nano-gadgets. And you guys aren't planning on going anywhere dangerous, right?"

"Well that's the plan anyway Sam," Jake answered. "But they tell me you never know when something, we didn't plan on running into, will surprise us out there."

Sam thought about that for a minute before he replied.

"Well I suppose I could stock up on some of those body boosting nano-meds she said she could give me before we go," Sam eventually said. "Sandra said she can give me some packets that will give me a short term strength enhancement. Which would also serve as emergency anti-trauma medical nanites. She also said that if they don't need to use themselves up doing that, any remaining nanites would slowly expend themselves protecting most of my body functions.

I can deal with all that I guess. I just don't want any of those mind linking nanites, that she talked about, trying to hook my brain up to one of those control helmets."

"OK Sam, I guess that's all we can expect of you," Jake said. Then after a slight pause he added, "I do have one other concern about you going on this particular trip though Sam."

Sam looked puzzled for a moment.

"OK, I'll bite," he said. "What are you getting at?"

"Well you see Sam," Jake gently explained. "You still seem a bit nervous about nanites messing with your mind." Jake paused for a moment to let the subject sink in but he quickly continued before Sam could voice any objections to it. "It's just that we're going to be cooped up aboard the shuttle for three to four days each way. And on this trip we won't have any girls with us..."

Sam saw where this was going and was fairly trembling when he interrupted Jake.

"And your worried about your promise not to mess with my mind right?" Sam asked.

Jake's nonverbal response was two conflicting gestures. He nodded to indicate Sam understood the problem and he shrugged to indicate he didn't know the answer. Sam thought about it for nearly a minute.

"Well the way I figure it," Sam reasoned. "Without any girls along, neither of you really want to be, err, 'excited' any more than you want me to be. So since nobody will be trying to go there, I think I can mostly control myself.

I mean I can't promise I won't get a woody now and then. But if I do I promise to think about using it on your girl, Cindy. And I'll even try not to so much as think of one of my boyfriends. Aside from that, if I manage to make you, um, 'uncomfortable' Then I suppose I could deal with it if you have to suppress my mood. That is if you'll try really hard not to twist my feelings..." Then after a brief pause Sam added, "Will that do?"

"Fair enough," Jake said with a smile. "It pleases me that your willing to trust my judgment on that Sam. But rest assured. I'll be just as careful about only applying a general wet blanket as Steve would have.

That is I won't even try to stop you from finding our butts attractive Sam. But don't be surprised if for some reason they just don't seem all that attractive at the moment. And no Sam, I wouldn't expect you to stop having erections. But please also try not to overdo the bit of thinking about my Cindy. If I think about that too much I'll get heated up over the idea of watching your snake sliding into her again. And that would be frustrating.

I won't do anything unless we start getting uncomfortable with each other. But if any one of us starts to have an issue, I will suppress our sex drives as much as I have to. Deal?"

"Deal! And thank you!" Sam said cheerfully. "You said, suppress 'our' sex drives, rather than just mine. That means a lot to me."

"That's it then Sam," Jess spoke up. "If your going, you better go see Sandra. Then meet us in the launch bay. We'll be leaving in two hours. Don't be late."

"Which launch bay is that?" Sam inquired.

"Just be alone in the elevator," Jake answered. "Then punch in 'star, triple zero, pound, double three, star' and palm the identi-screen. You'll get there."

Sam was wearing a one piece leather jumpsuit that accented his curvaceous body and he was carrying a small duffel bag. When he stepped out of the elevator into a large circular room. He noticed that the room appeared to have four doors, counting the elevator. Which was considerably smaller than other three doors. The four doors were evenly spaced around the circle. Near the elevator there was a computerized control console of some kind. Next to which Jake and Jess were both standing. Jake was wearing A Blue set of house duds, and Jess was wearing a red set. Or at least they looked like house duds. Except that the embossed logo on the pockets had a muted metallic looking color contrasting with the shirts color making the image stand out. Jess's logo had a dull gold sheen to it. Jake's looked more like silver.

There was a large mechanical arm assembly mounted on the ceiling. Which, as Sam watched, began to move. Suddenly Sam had to revise his opinion. There were 5 doors if you count the very large hole that had just opened in the floor. From which the mechanical arm was lifting something that looked a little like a flying saucer but it's shape fell short of being a full disk. It was like two sides had been slightly flattened and a pair of cylinders had been strapped onto the flattened sides and if those were indeed the sides, then there was a curved indention in the rear. In which he could see a door of some kind. As Sam watched, the hole appeared to shrink until the floor was completely closed once more.

Jess watched Jake punch in the correct command sequence to silently prep the fringe-shuttle for extended use. He smiled with amused approval when Jake added instructions for a selection of additional provisions to be requested from the kitchen.

"You got hopes," Jess commented. "You might do better to be a little less specific when you request leftovers of anything Mike cooked up. It all tends to disappear ya know."

"Aye, that it does," Jake said with a chuckle. "And I've already become one of the chief culprits on that." He rubbed and patted his belly for emphasis and continued without pause. "But as it happens, Mike does as good a job keeping up with his inventory as he does anything else he bothers with. It doesn't matter what time of day or night I've raided the kitchen. By the time I get back upstairs, the inventory always reflects what I just took. So since I checked the inventory this morning, I'm pretty sure we can get a half dozen servings each of the ravioli, catfish and beef stew.

I'd order more, but you told me the onboard nutrition system can actually make a few edible dishes. So I figure we should at least try one or two of them."

Jess looked a bit skeptical of the plan but he held his tongue. Instead he turned to Sam and pointed at his armband.

"By the way Sam," he said. "Anytime your assigned to a mission that's supposed to take you off world, your temporarily exempt from the 'staff' dress code."

That was when Sam noticed that if you didn't count the logo on his shirt pocket Jess wasn't wearing his staff logo. Then Jake, made a point of looking Sam up and down.

"I must say you have an impressive wardrobe Sam," Jake said with a grin. "And the way that fit's, well lets just say Cindy would be jealous."

"You guys didn't tell me what to wear," Sam said. "So I picked out this outfit. Is it OK for the mission?"

"Oh I suppose it will do just fine Sam," Jake replied. "We don't exactly have any strict uniform requirements. Though anything you get from ship's stores will look a lot like house duds."

"Excepting of course," Jess interjected. "When and if we go somewhere that local custom requires a modification to it. But then, the ship would provide an outfit that conformed to the local requirements."

"While on board the ship itself however, there isn't any dress code whatsoever," Jake resumed explaining. "Based on what I understand of where we are going, your leather will be OK there. But if you don't mind, I'd like to add a Hillside decal Like the images on our pockets. It would reinforce the visual perception that we are all part of the same team."

It took a moment for Sam to realize that Jake was waiting for an answer.

"I guess that's OK, it won't damage the leather will it?" Sam inquired.

"Not to worry," Jake said as he touched Sam just below the left shoulder with the tip of his finger. "Just ask me when the mission's over and I'll have my nanites undo that."

Sam looked down at the spot Jake had touched. He saw a faint scar like image of the Hillside logo develop in the surface of the leather. Then the lines of the image began to glow for second. When the glow faded, the lines took on a metallic look, as if some translucent gold colored metallic ink had been used to tattoo the leather.

"Yes that looks more appropriate," Jess said. "I'm not sure if we explained to you Sam. But thanks to Steve's many travels, a large percentage of the governments out there think of the place he simply called 'Hillside' as a virtual kingdom. Most of them would not care that it's not recognized as such by our local government. But it would be best not to explain that to any authorities who might have misconceptions of Hillside's legal status."

"Besides according to Steve's private historical records," Jake interjected with a chuckle. "Several old world kings actually did bestow upon Steve, the rights and privileges of a lord or barren. Including, if you can believe it, the fabled king Arthur of English lore.

Also even though the outer buildings at Hillside are less than a century old. Steve had most of this underground base hidden here, before Europe even knew there was a North American continent. Aside from all that, if some alien fleet were to attack the Earth, Hillside would muster a stronger military defense than all the official world superpowers combined."

"That part I knew," Sam said. "I'm beginning to think that our history would have been significantly different, if Steve hadn't been trying so hard not to meddle with our development all these years."

"You got that right Sam," Jess agreed.

Just then the glow of the shuttle prep systems began to fade and the elevator disgorged an automated provision cart. At which moment the identi-screen on the control console flashed on with an image of Mike's cheerful face.

"Well now, it seems you boys are off on a jaunt," Mike's image said. "I hope you have a fine trip. But I'm afraid there was a shortage on one of the items you requested Jake. There's been a bit of a run on lunch orders for the beef stew. So I only had four servings left. I sent them along of course. But as it happens I was putting together a surprise for this evening's menu. From which I slipped you a half dozen advanced servings of a nice Scottish style lamb stew. I hope that'll do."

Jake was still shaking his head over the shortage when he responded.

"Well that'll be a lesson to me I guess Mike," Jake said. "Yes, the lamb stew will do nicely. That is it will, if we can stay out of it long enough to launch this puppy. Thank you for rescuing us from my mistake. I guess that when it comes to your cooking, I shouldn't expect 52 servings of stew to be enough to wait four hours on ordering a half dozen."

Mike's image smiled at what he rightly considered high praise for his cooking.

"Well I'm glad it'll work out for you," Mike's voice said cheerfully. "But I've gotta get back to work. So like I said, have a nice trip."

With that the screen went blank but even as the sound channel closed they heard the fist two notes of the tune Mike was already whistling as he resumed whatever he'd been doing when Jake's request got his attention.

"That Mike is one in a trillion," Jess said. "But he left us a with a real problem ya know."

"Yes," interrupted Sam, who was now standing just behind them. "Jake said he ordered 6 of each meal. And Mike said we only got 4 of the beef stew. Even when we add in that yummy lamb stew of his, the total won't divide well by the three of us. There's going to be one extra meal left. I think we should agree now that when we have the beef stew we should divi-up the extra serving between us so we don't wind up fighting over it."

"Works for me," Jake said.

Then as he stepped out of the airlock into the shuttles interior, Sam noticed that it was surprisingly roomy. There was a short wide aisleway between a small collection of doors. To his right was one marked with a sign proclaiming it to be a 'galley' and to his left, one door was marked 'bath' and the other 'toilet'." Just beyond this, the central area had three pairs of reclining seats that looked much more comfortable than anything he'd seen on a commercial airplane. There was an aisle on either side of the seats. The other side of both aisles were lined with an assortment of control panels cabinets and display screens.

Just forward of the seating area there was a partition that provided a large view screen. Which extended from about a foot above the floor to about a foot below the ceiling. There was just enough room to walk around behind either side of the partition. Sam could see the lower part of an open doorway under it.

The huge view screen appeared to be showing a black and white image of the other side of the doorway. Which evidently led to a cockpit with two more seats. On either side of the cockpit door there were two more closed doors. Jess noticed where Sam was looking.

"The door on the left leads to the engineering crawlways that we shouldn't need to use," Jess said. "On the right is the access ladder up into the overhead exercise bubble. There'll be plenty of time to look around after we launch Sam. For now please pick a seat and strap in for take off. You'll find that there's a storage compartment in the base of the seat. The cushion lifts up. You can put your duffel in there."

The cradle positioned them inside the the doorway to the left of the one Steve's shuttle had left by. Then the door closed behind them. Sam could see through the still open cockpit door via the big screen, a black and white image of a large, vertically positioned, oval meshwork of some metallic substance in front of the shuttle. Then the cockpit door closed. Suddenly Jake's face appeared in the center of the view screen.

"Sam, you'll find that the view screen will respond to the control pad in your right hand armrest" Jake's image said. "The view you just had is on channel 1. You can see me like this on 2 and Jess is on 3. If you want to see the both of us at once use 4. If you want entertainment, try a two digit number. And if you really think you want the same forward view we have, punch in zero. In which case you should know, in the event that you feel like your going to be sick, you'll find a barf bag attached to the outside of your left armrest. The portal chamber has been depressurized. So I'm about to lock in the coordinates and activate the portal."

Sam wasn't sure what the difference was between channel 1 and zero but 1 sounded safer. He punched it in just in time to see the meshwork begin to glow. Then suddenly it seamed to disappear. In it's place was an inky blackness spattered with bright specks that he thought must be stars. He saw Jake's elbows move as he felt the ship lift up then suddenly he was gently pushed against the backrest as the shuttle accelerated forward.

There was an odd looking distortion of the view as the shuttle passed into the portal. It happened so fast that he almost didn't notice that the visual image had been distorted, before it wasn't. At which point he felt the universe turn inside out. That sensation didn't last long either. Even so he was suddenly real glad Jake had told him where the barf bag was. He hoped he could get it over his mouth in time.

They were traveling with about a third of an Earth gravity of thrust when they passed through the portal into 'space'. Jake thought that was pretty good for the ion thrusters that had pushed them through the portal. Of course, he already knew from his simulator training that the small guild design thrusters packed a lot more punch than any form of ion drive known to Earth science. However he did want to get to stellar escape velocity as soon as possible. So he quickly targeted the fast moving particles in the solar wind with the induction cycle of the primary transduction thrusters. It was all moving away so fast that he'd get some measurable thrust just pulling it into the thrusters. In a couple of seconds he was pulling in enough particles to warrant initializing the matter to energy conversion cycle. Converting nearly half of them to the energy he needed accelerate the rest of them to relativistic speeds. He brought both the particle injectors and the inertial compensators on line, even as he disengaged the ion thrusters.

Jake calibrated the inertial compensator to suit his preference of feeling 1.3 gravities of the thrust. Had he not done so, the automatic setting would have neutralized the full thrust and activated a 0.3 gravity artificial gravity circuit. That would have kept the illusion of down being under their feet instead of behind them. The inertial compensator kept the subjective thrust steady at 1.3 gravities even as the actual acceleration reached over 50 gravities of force.

A couple of hours later, they had attained enough outward momentum and nearly enough distance from the sun's gravity well. For them to risk engaging the fringe effect drive's rift generator. At which point he cut the primary thrusters, changed the attitude of their shuttle as he engaged the vertical ion thrusters to their design thrust of 0.4 gravities. He would augment that later with simulated gravity from the inertial compensators, but he thought 0.4 gravity would do for now.

Meanwhile, it had been a long two hours for Sam. After a while he had started to experiment with the view screen controls. He discovered that on channel 0, he could call up a tactical view of the solar system, with which he could select an object like one of the larger planets, and automatically focus the standard view towards it. Then he discovered how to magnify the image and was suddenly very puzzled by what he saw.

It was about half an hour after that when Jake made the switch to the vertical thrust ion drive. Then Jake activated his control override for the main view screen to insure that his image would be visible to Sam. Jake turned to face him, as he pointed first down, then up.

"The simulated gravity is a little weak Sam," he explained. "But the floor will be down for a while, cause we're going that way. Why don't you stretch your legs a bit. Get used to moving around in less than half a gravity while you familiarize yourself with the ship." The monochrome image of Sam that was displayed on Jake's side of the partition screen blinked a couple of times before Sam's image groaned with obviously exaggerated discomfort.

"Are we there yet?" Sam's image asked in a mockingly childish voice. Then he added in a more serious manor, "Tell me something Jake. Why is it that when I look at your backs and the view from the cockpit, the big screen is like a black and white TV. And yet if I look directly outside on channel zero it's in living color?"

"That's cause it's programmed to automatically select a monochrome display," Jake replied. "Whenever it's displaying the shuttle's interior."

"OK," Sam's image said. "Now tell me why that ringed planet I'm looking at looks so much like Saturn?"

"Because it is Saturn Sam," Jake said. "Or at least this universe's equivalent of it. And before you ask, the reason you don't find anything where Earth should be is because this universe's Earth was destroyed a long time ago."

"Oh, I guess that makes sense," Sam's image replied. "But if that Saturn looks so much like ours, why can't I find Jupiter's red spot?"

"Because we are far to close to see that," Jake explained.

"What?" Sam's image protested. "But that makes no sense at all." Sam would have said more on the subject, but Jake interrupted him.

"It would make sense if we could look at it from about 40 thousand lightyears away Sam," Jake explained. "Then, if we could gather enough of the light that was reflected off of it that long ago, we could watch the big storm that the spot was made of fade away. You see Sam, there are many alternate realities. Each one is different in some way from any other. Our home universe is somewhat younger than this one."

Sam thought about it for a moment. Then he just shook his head and unstrapped himself and was soon tentatively walking around. Or trying to walk. Realizing that Sam didn't have any previous low gravity experience and he couldn't adapt as quickly as Jake obviously had, Jess took pity on him and explained.

"We're not going to stay at this low gravity level long enough to really be worth trying to acclimate your reflexes Sam," Jess said. "So unless you need the rest room, I'd recommend you stay seated for a while."

When Jess returned to the cockpit, Jake was just logging out of the main control panel.

"I've got the baseline for the fringe course preloaded into the navigation system Jess," Jake said. "Along with a running recalculation program for the preliminary power levels and entrance vectors for the fringe effect generator. They should serve as a reasonable baseline guide for at least the next 4 hours."

Jess just grunted.

"Of course your welcome to check my figures," Jake added.

Jess gave him a disgusted look. He didn't put much faith in advance calculations for fringe effect flights.

"Sure I'll do that," he said. "Right before we go. Just give me about 5 minutes warning when your ready."

Jake just smiled and headed for the main cabin.

They all thoroughly enjoyed the Lamb stew. They were facing each other because they had showed Sam how to reverse the position of his chosen seat. He had picked the front row when they had first told him to sit down and now he felt like it was 'his' seat.

Jake and Jess had taken the seats in the second row. The seats were equipped with fold out trays that were holding the rapidly disappearing stew meals. Each one of which had been packed with a roll and a piece of apple pie. When the last morsel of food had disappeared Jake stretched.

"As soon as your both ready," he said. "I think it's high time I engaged the fringe effect drive."

"Just let me run a recalc on those figures," Jess said as he headed for the cockpit. Detouring to drop his empty meal pack & utensils in the auto-sanitizer.

Sam turned his chair back to it's forward facing position and started to strap in before he realized his mealpack container was still on the tray.

"Let me get that for you," Jake offered as he scooped up Sam's dishes and walked them back to sanitizer. After which, as he headed for the cockpit Jake added, "Ya know Sam, you won't really need the harness. A fringe effect insertion isn't like that. If I mess up bad enough for us to even feel a little bump..."

He left the rest unsaid. Sam appeared to swallow a mouthful of nothing and began to slowly unfasten his harness. Noticing a look of real worry on his face Jake tried tongue in cheek humor.

"Relax Sam," Jake said. "I've done this a hundred times... in the simulator. And more often than not, it said I survived... Aren't you glad you came along for the ride?" Then he quickly added "Seriously though I only failed the simulator once. And that was before I read the instructions. You do know this is only a training flight. We are still close enough to Earth's physical coordinates, that I could arrange for the portal to open an exit door to take you back to hillside."

There was fire in Sam's blue-in-black eyes when he replied.

"No! I don't care how nervous I get," Sam insisted. "Your not sending me back... If you and Jess feel safe enough for you to do this, then I'm not gonna chicken out. I'm just not!"

"Your a brave man Sam," Jake said gently. "And I'm sorry, perhaps I shouldn't have teased you. But since there is 'some' risk that I could screw this up, I needed to know that you were really sure about going with us. I wouldn't think less of you if you chose to go back you know. And I don't think Jess would either."

Sam looked deeply into Jake's eyes as he answered.

"You can't really think I'm brave?" he said incredulously. "I'm scared out of my mind! But I'm going anyway. You won't make me go back will you?"

Jake smiled as warmly as he knew how.

"I can see both that very real fear in you Sam," he explained. "As well as a strong resolve to face that fear. Yes Sam, I'd call that brave. In fact as of now, I've decided that you are actually one of the bravest men I've ever met. I say that because you are obviously very frightened, yet you won't let that fear get the best of you. And no I won't make you go back, I'm proud to have you with us."

"Careful Jake," Jess spoke up as he returned from the cockpit. "You'll give him a swelled head. But actually Sam, I agree with him. Course I've known you longer, so I'm not really very surprised. Still My opinion of you has gone up a notch or two lately." Then he added, "By the way Jake, I've checked your baseline and it still looks viable. I'd say were ready to go."

"Good," Jake replied, "By the way Jess, did you want to explain it to Sam? Or shall I do it?"

"No Jake, news this serious should only come from a true friend," Jess replied with a deadly serious expression on his face.

"Oh!" Jake replied. "So you want me to be the one to ruin his whole day."

"Would one of you just please tell me what your talking about," Sam interrupted them.

"Well lets just say that I hope you've enjoyed the low gravity," Jake began.

"Yeah," Jess took over the explanation. "You see the planet Slowlane is a little heavier than Earth. So when we get there we are going to have to deal with a gravity 15% greater than Earth's."

"It'd take my nanites just a few minutes to fully adapt my muscles to it." Jake picked it up from there.

"It'd take a few hours," Jess added. "For my augmentation grade nanites to do the same for me. But your going to have to make do with Hillside's nano-meds."

"And if their going to acclimate your body to it in just the 3 days we expect to be in transit," Jake took another turn with the extended explanation. "Then we are going to have to push the onboard gravity simulator up to about 1.5 Earth gravities."

Then Jess gave Sam a big smile.

"Now aren't you glad you came buddy?" he asked.

Sam just groaned.

Jake was just about to activate the fringe jump sequence when Sam's face appeared on his screen.

"Sorry to interrupt," Sam's image said. "But how can I listen in on you guys If I select viewer channel zero?"

"No problem Sam," Jake replied. "I don't think you've had much chance to read all the instructions yet. For now you could just punch up "zero point four And you'll mostly get our main cockpit view screen, with a small overlay of our mugs in the corner. That way you'll hear us as good as you do right now."

"Thanks!" Sam's image said with a smile.

When Jake finally engaged the fringe effect sequence most of Sam's view screen was filled with an odd looking grayness that seemed to be everywhere. Though from straight ahead there were bright splashes of color, that seamed to splash around them briefly. The color and brightness of the splashes varied so quickly that it was hard to see that the color change always started in the center and spilled all the way to the edge of the screen, even as it was replaced by another color, again streaming from the center. Overlaid on top of this was a line graph with black text. It had a broken line marked 'baseline' and another marked 'actual'. Sam noticed that the 'actual' only sometimes matched the 'baseline'. Gradually the splashes transformed into a spiral swirl of continuous bands of color, that began to look like a big rainbow was wrapped around them.

"Nicely done Jake," Jess's image said. "That looks stable enough to get us there. And the numbers say were right on course."

"That makes it high time I cranked up the G-force," Jake's image added.

"That's it Sam, the hard parts over," Jake said as he returned to the main cabin with Jess. "I successfully inserted us into a fringe wave headed where we want to go. It's pretty much automatic from here. It'll take about 60 hours to get there. Want to play cards?"

"No," Sam said. "Not really but tell me how come this happened so quick. Whenever Steve goes out on a jaunt it usually takes him a couple of days just to get far enough out here to turn on the stardrive?"

"Well," said Jake. "That's probably because you need more distance from the sun and a greater exit velocity to safely engage the guild stardrive than you do to begin a fringe effect flight. Though I daresay, if he was in a big enough hurry, he could push his gravitational-optimizer hard enough to get to a safe jump point in about an hour. Right Jess?"

Jess hesitated for a second.

"You really don't care about pissing off the guild council by giving away their secrets do you Jake?" he said. "But since you already let that cat out of the bag. Yeah, going by the specs, I'd have said it would take at least two hours. Except that I know for a fact that one time when Steve was in a desperate hurry, he did it in just forty six minutes. Of course I got to spend a week of subjective time rebuilding the primary optimizer before I climbed into my hypersleep chamber."

"No Jess, I wouldn't really want to piss them off any more than I have to," Jake alleged. "Even if I never actually sign up with them. But I don't believe in misinforming my core team members."

As Jake said this last part, Sam's mouth sort of fell open.

"Core team?" Sam sputtered, half a second later. "Me? Do you mean that like the way Steve refers to Jess and Stephanie?"

"You mean referred, past tense," Jess interjected. "We used to be Steve's core team. But we really do work for Jake now."

"Right and now that you work for me," Jake spoke up. "Your part of my core team. And so are you Sam. That is if you'd like to be."

"Do you really mean it Jake?" Sam asked. "Or are you just pulling my leg?"

"I mean it Sam," Jake confirmed. "Just promise me you'll study and learn all you can. And most importantly, that If you ever do want off the team, for any reason, you will tell me about it instead of trying to tough it out.

You see Sam when I saw you master your fear, I knew you had the right stuff. Add to that your desire to understand things like how and why and my mind was made up."

There were tears in Sam's eyes.

"Can I login to the Hillside database from here? he asked. Or will I have to wait till we get back?"

"Neither!" Jake said.

"Logging in to Hillside from here wouldn't be possible Sam," Jess followed up. "But we have a nearly complete copy of it's data core in the onboard AI unit. It's not likely that you'll ask it something it can't answer."

For the rest of the trip out, the atmosphere in the shuttle was more like a school than a spaceship. If they weren't busy sleeping, eating or exercising, they were all busy using the computer. Jess was most often cast in the role of teacher, because of the three of them, he had the most experience. Before long however, he found himself having to study hard just to keep up with Sam's hungry mind. He didn't have to explain much to Jake however. He also noticed that Jake's data requests took more than twice the bandwidth of Sam's and his own combined. They were over 50 hours into the fringe flight when Sam suddenly cried out.

"That's it! That's all I can cram. I can cram no more," Sam said. "I'm sorry Jake but I just can't study any more for a while."

Jake, who was just getting out of the shower walked into the main cabin while still toweling off.

"Don't be sorry Sam," he said. "Considering you don't have nanites helping your brain digest all this stuff. You've already learned more in the last 4 hours than I'd have thought you could in a whole week. And the sequence of your follow up data requests tells me your actually starting to understand most of what you've read."

"What?" Jess interrupted in an incredulous tone of voice. "Do you mean that on top of your own massive data flow, you've actually been monitoring the content of ours as well?"

"Well ya Jess," Jake replied. "Perhaps it was rude to pry, but I don't really think that anyone who realistically expects to screw Cindy some more, right in front of me, really expects to have much privacy from me."

Then Sam spoke up with an odd expression on his face.

"Umm Jake it might be better if you didn't talk about my having sex when your big cock is so umm visible."

Actually Sam," Jake replied. "I'm not so worried about that anymore. I've been studying a lot of things, including you. And I've decided that even if you were stronger than I and even if I didn't have my nanites. I actually could depend on your knowledge that I'm not that way. And feel safe! Even if I had to pick up the soap while you were behind me.

I know you can't help liking my butt any more than I can help liking it whenever I get a peek at some cute girl. I've decided that I'm secure enough in my masculinity that I don't need to worry about how your looking at me any more."

"That may be so." said Jess. "But we don't have any girls with us." Then with a knowing glance in Sam's direction he added, "Or available boys, for that matter. So unless you'd like to reduce us to a big 'wish they were here' circle jerk, lets go easy on the subject please. But speaking of which. You know Sam you have been sporting a woody under that jumpsuit of yours ever since Jake said you were on the team. That leather is so form fitting that it wouldn't have been any more distracting if you had been naked the whole time. So since we're only a few hours away from our destination I'd suggest you drop that leather in the auto-fresher."

Then he turned to face Jake.

"I wasn't talking about our privacy Jake," Jess resumed explaining. "Not from you at any rate.

I've been tracking the sheer volume of data you've been pulling in and I'm surprised you can process it all so fast, never mind doing so while simultaneously keeping an eye on our studies. But then you know that already don't you?"

"Yes Jess," Jake replied. "I was also reading your data flow... I've discovered that when I'm using a data terminal, my nanites are able to enhance my learning process so much that the ship's AI can't feed me fast enough. That's actually why I started watching your raw data streams in the first place. It didn't use up any of the AI's capacity to run them across the bottom two lines of my terminal screen. And decoding and assimilating the data in them helped keep me from getting too bored while I waited for the AI to answer my data requests."

Jess just stared at Jake for a moment.

"I don't suppose you were also taking your data as another raw stream as well were you?" Jess asked.

At first Jake just nodded.

"It could send it through faster if it didn't have to waste any cycles preprocessing it," he finally explained.

"Perhaps you should know," Jess replied. "That if my reading on your bandwidth of data consumption didn't include preprocessing. Then your data absorption rate was exceeding even Steve's best recorded rate.

Unless you count when Steve resorted to letting his nanosymbiont learn it for him." I think we can assume that this is definitely going to be the personnel communication interface your nanites are going to use to communicate with you. I'd suggest teaching them how to build you a virtual terminal of some kind so that you can always tap in to their information."

"I've already done that," Jake's said. "In actual fact I've gone with something like a heads up display. I see what my eyes tell me. But just above and below that I've got data screens. And that's how I could do it so fast. My nanites processed the raw data streams the AI sent me. Then they displayed the formatted output on my internal screens. After which, I suppose, they are internally helping my brain file the information away more efficiently than I could do without them.

But I still have to have an input for them to process. And they don't talk to me like Steve's symbiont does."

Sam had just walked out of the shower while drying his hair.

"Did you say that it won't bother you anymore, if your sometimes the reason I've got such a hard on like this Jake?"

"Just so long as you don't expect me to help you with it Sam," Jake who was also still naked said. "But I do expect that you'll remember to also think about you and my Cindy. Because 'THAT' is going to be the only reason your nudity is causing my pole to stiffen."

"And I still don't have a girl to seduce," Jess spoke up. "And I really don't want to wind up running mine by hand so would you two..."

Even as he said that he could feel the effect of Jake's nanites beginning to pump out anti-sexual pheromones.

"Thank you Jake," was all he said.

Jake was about to suggest that Sam strap in, because unlike the fringe effect insertion, returning to normal space was often bumpy. No matter how accurately you calculated the exit point, it always took some maneuvering to match relative velocities with the destination. There was also frequently a need for sudden evasive maneuvers to avoid hitting space debris. When he pulled up Sam's seat on the view screen however, he saw that he was already strapping himself in.

"Looks like you did your homework again Sam," Jake said. "Here we go."

Sam saw the multicolored swirl on the indistinct gray background suddenly get replaced by the blackness of normal space. Except that there was a large bright object on the left edge of the screen. Then he saw before them a view of a planet with a moon that bore a strong resemblance to Luna. At which point he felt the inertial dampers kick in to high as Jake abruptly dodged something that looked like a satellite.

Immediately he heard Jess talking into the communications system.

"Hillside starshuttle to Luna base," Jess said. "We are on a peaceful trade and information sharing mission to Slowlane. We request landing coordinates for Luna inspection."

There was a brief pause.

"Luna control to alien craft, the voice only transmission said. "We haven't heard from Hillside in many years. We will need you to reaffirm your cooperation with our import/export restrictions, which have not changed. Are you sure you want to land?"

"If prime David Miller is still creating those wonderful paintings," Jess said. "We are quite sure we'd like to land."

"Very well then," the voice acknowledged. "We are transmitting coordinates and flight path specifications. You are to follow the flight path without deviation. Luna out!"

They landed in what looked like a deserted crater on the far side of the moon. About 30 seconds after they touched down a section of the crater wall proved to be a large access door. Which quickly opened to reveal a ramp leading down into an underground habitat. A few seconds after it opened, a specialized personnel transport rolled out from the ramp and approached their shuttle's primary airlock. Then it began slowly extending a telescoping docking collar towards their airlock's own docking collar.

"Don't forget Sam," Jess reminded him. "They might not expect us to have the same moral values as they do but their culture is fairly homophobic. So even if they realize that you like boys, don't make the slightest move towards even inquiring if one of them is interested."

"Yeah I know," Sam replied. "But according to the files I've been reading, they wouldn't object if I put some moves on any single woman I can find. Or if I were to ask a married man for permission to fuck his wife. Yeah I got all that. But what about my tattoos?"

"If your careful to explain that your a member of a subculture where sexual experiences between partners of the same gender are acceptable," Jess explained. "And then immediately reaffirm that you have no intention to promote that behavior here on Slowlane. Then the tattoo's shouldn't be an issue.

In fact you might even find men going out of their way to offer you the positive heterosexual experiences their wives can provide you with. But don't count on it.

Anyway, as long as you don't actually put any moves on any guys while your here, the worst that's likely to happen is they might demand that you keep your tattoos covered up while your here. Though I suppose it's possible that if they really get offended by them, they might insist that you return to our ship prematurely."

"Attention!" the airlock intercom sputtered to life. "We have confirmed the air seal between your guild design docking collar and our docking seal adapter. All occupants are therefore requested to disembark at this time. Excursion suits will not be required."

"Don't worry Sam," Jess said. "Their technology may seem outdated by Hillside's standards. But they engineered their systems well. So if they say we won't need them, we really won't need them."

As he said that he led the way through the airlock and into the waiting personnel transport.

"The gravity out here is very low however," Jess continued. "So until we get inside their artificial gravity equipped habitat area, I strongly recommend using the hand rails."

"Welcome to Luna," said the transport's driver. As he sealed the transports airlock and retracted the telescoping docking seal. "For your information, I've left the seal adapter on your ships docking collar. That way, it won't matter which of our transports bring you back when your ready to leave. Please do take a seat and fasten the seat belts for the ride inside."

Sam found that there were plenty of well positioned hand holds inside the transport. So he didn't find it difficult to comply. Though he didn't do so as smoothly as Jake did. Jess of course, was more used to low gravity environments. So he moved as smoothly as the driver.

The driver offered no conversation as he drove down the ramp and deployed the docking collar to access one of several airlocks inside a large rectangular chamber. That airlock opened into a room with a large table, about a dozen chairs and a walk through medical scanner system. It also had a form of artificial gravity system that boosted Luna's natural gravity to something close to Earth's. So Sam had little difficulty complying when they were asked to walk through the scanner and then to take a seat.

The Luna 'intake' inspection team were concerned about Sam's tattoos. They remarked that the alignment of the female image's nipples with his own real ones could possibly be suggestive of a form of transgendered role playing. Then they apologetically asked if there was anything like that in Sam's actual behavior patterns. They were talking to Jess but it was Sam who answered.

"It's perceptive of you to see the possibilities that particular tattoo implies," he said. "However, Jess here has been most diligent to explain what is and is not considered acceptable behavior here. And if I may be allowed to speak more explicitly, I can assure you that it is not in my nature to seek sexual encounters with anyone who would be offended by such behavior.

If necessary I would be willing to agree to keep my upper torso covered during my stay here. But that might interfere with one activity I've been looking forward to. I would very much like to meet some of your unmarried women."

"So you do at least 'like' girls," the unnamed inspection team leader interrupted Sam. Then he turned back to face Jess. "Will you certify that your friend is capable of confining his attentions to available females?"

"Absolutely!" Jess said with a nod.

The inspector then gestured toward Jake.

"What can you tell us of your other friend here? He doesn't scan well. What is it he is hiding?"

Jess actually smiled.

"If your asking about his sexual behavior, I'd only suggest that you lock up any available women you don't want him to play with. But as far as what he may or may not be hiding. I suggest you ask him.

All I can tell you is that he is my current boss. And that he is an apprentice to the questor who deeded Hillside to him."

The inspectors mouth sort of fell open.

"quQuquestor?" he stammered. Suddenly his attitude was considerably less domineering. He turned on his heal and addressed Jake as one soldier might a high ranking officer from a powerful ally's military forces.

"Pardon me Sir, I was unaware of your status," the inspector said. "But the presence of a guild nanosymbiont would explain most of the unstable results our bioscanners obtained from..." Jake stopped him with a raised hand.

"Actually my guild status is still just an apprentice to a questor. My nanites have yet to actually form a true nanosymbiont for me. You may rest assured however that I will honor your trade restrictions at least as well as the last questor to visit you did."

The inspector seamed relieved as he informed them that their request to visit Slowlane was granted and that they would have seats on the next shuttle.

They were escorted to a comfortable lounge to wait for the shuttle's scheduled launch. A few minutes later, four young female officers entered the lounge. Two of them were wearing pilots stripes. One was blond, the other brunette. The other two, who were wearing medical staff uniforms, were both redheads. One of the pilots, the brunette, addressed them.

"I'm sorry gentlemen," she began. "But I'm afraid my shuttle won't be ready for launch for a little over three hours. But we would like to make the delay less tedious if we can. My companions are all unmarried. And my husband has granted me permission to play today." Then after a brief pause she continued. "I'm supposed to inform you that this lounge is under video surveillance. But if that isn't a problem, I'd like to know which of you has that unusual tattoo my husband told me about?" Sam stepped forward.

"That would be me," he said. "But tell me, is your husband one of the inspectors we met a little while ago? And is he the one monitoring the lounge?"

"Yes, my husband was the inspector who actually spoke with you," she said with a chuckle. "Unfortunately my husband's duties don't put him in a position to directly monitor us at the moment. But he has made arrangements to join me later when, as a participant to whatever happens here, I'll have a right to review the recording. So he will be watching later."

"In that case, I'd like to know if he sent you to test if I was telling the truth about liking girls?" Sam asked.

"No," she said. "He was recording his impression of your tattoo when I walked in to his office. I was so intrigued, I begged him to let me play with you. I did have to promise to review the recording with him." She giggled. "Though he did make me promise to do my very best to make sure your first Slowlane experience with an available female was... I believe the words he used were 'first class'. But he sometimes plays with words so I'm not quite sure he didn't say 'first ass'."

Sam smiled.

"Well I don't think any of us are bashful enough to worry about the camera," Jake interjected. "Though I notice you haven't told us your names yet."

"And we won't," said the other pilot who was starting to disrobe. "We are officers in the service of Slowlane. Our names are irrelevant."

At this point Jake shrugged and turned to face the exact spot where he had already detected the surveillance equipment.

"Enjoy the show!" he said.

Then he waved at the concealed camera as he too began to strip. After which he reached out and touched the newly exposed skin on the shoulder of the first pilot.

"I've got two questions," Jake said. "Do you get to play with all of us? Or just Sam here?"

She looked down towards Jake's erection. Then she licked her lips.

"That depends on whether my companions wear you out before I get to you," she replied. Then she returned her gaze to Sam's tattooed body.

"You said two questions?" she prompted.

"Yes you mentioned Sam's first Slowlane experience," Jake continued. "But we are still on Luna base. Does that mean you get to play some more after we land?"

The woman sucked in her breath suddenly. She had obviously not thought of that connotation to the words. Before she answered, she took a firm hold of Sam's swollen snake.

"Well I'm going to have to ask him about that," she said. "But I intend to hold him to the letter of his word. At least so far as it comes to this one's first experience down there on Slowlane."

Three hours later the biological inspections officer walked in to tell them their shuttle was ready. He was greeted by the sight of his wife swallowing Sam's snake while Jake was busy screwing her from behind.

The room was full of the scent of extended sexual activity. The two redheads appeared to be doing their best to coax another orgasm from Jess. The blond pilot was stretched out on one of the sofas. Apparently worn out. At this point Sam looked up, then looked the officer squarely in the eyes.

"Just a moment sir," Sam said. "I think we are just about..."

As he said this Sam's eyes lost focus as his orgasm began. Which appeared to excite the inspector's wife enough for her to begin experiencing another orgasm. Which in turn triggered Jake's obviously powerful release.

The shuttle moved smoothly and silently as it lifted off the moon and began a controlled descent to the surface of Slowlane. The atmospheric insertion was so smooth they almost couldn't tell when it happened.

"I can't believe how smooth that reentry went," Sam commented.

"That's got something to do with their advanced energy science," Jess informed him. "They won't give us the details of course but they have some way of reliably applying enough balanced repulsor and attractor field energies that they can make the transition so gradual as to avoid all that bouncy turbulence that most space landers have to weather. It also means they don't need to spend much on heat shielding either..."

"But I thought you described this world as 'a backwater, low tech paradise with a spaceport' when you first told me where we were going?" Sam protested. "I mean I thought the moonbase looked kind of advanced. But now your telling me they even have advanced technology that we don't?"

"Well yes, I think I did say that," Jess replied. "Let's see, I call this a backwater world because it's not listed in any of the regular guild trading directories. Nobody runs anything like a regular shipping or passenger service to the place. It's almost as hard to do business here, as on a restricted planet like Earth. You haven't seen the lifestyle the people here maintain yet. It is a low tech paradise because they have the technological resources to deal with emergency situations. But they choose to leave the worst of it out of their daily lives. They do use high efficiency electronic lighting and communications. But they do so in a limited way. They make good use of environmentally friendly technology to run trains, airplanes and even some automobiles. Yet the majority of the people are more likely to use horse drawn carts and wagons than anything with a motor. They have steamships. But wherever practical they choose to use sailboats. Wait till you see a bit of the planetside below. You'll see."

Eventually the shuttle landed on a sparsely populated crescent shaped continent called Wildland. The landing, like the rest of the flight, went slow and smooth. When they stepped outside the shuttle, Sam got his first view of the shuttle's exterior. Unlike the airtight boarding ramp at the moon base, they disembarked via a portable set of stairs that were rolled up to the shuttles passenger hatch. He was surprised to see that the shuttle was an almost spherical craft. It was covered in what looked to him like a bunch of built in satellite dishes. There wasn't anything even remotely like a rocket engine on it.

The ground was like the surface of a well maintained gravel road. They were in the middle of an open space about twice the size of a baseball field. There was a short wooden fence around the perimeter of the gravel area. The ground on the other side of the fence was covered with some kind of grass. Except for where there was an gateway in the fence. Of these there were six. Two were large enough for the truck that was backing up to some kind of freight ramp that appeared to be attached to the other side of the shuttle.

They were escorted through one of the smaller gateways, down a narrow brick paved footpath leading to a long low wooden building. For the most part, the path was a straight line. Except that nearly midway between the landing field and the building it spit into two paths. Forming an elliptical ring around a most peculiar looking tree, with a protective fence around it.

"That's a daggerthorn tree, isn't it Jess?" Jake asked.

When Jess nodded, Jake turned to face Sam.

"That's one tree we need to recognize Sam," Jake said. "Lets hear what you know about it."

"OK," Sam replied. "According to the shuttles database, the daggerthorn tree is an unusual form of flowering evergreen tree with a central trunk like cluster of entwined stems that can sometimes rise to a height of 35 feet. The last 5 feet of which will be a plume like burst of thin upward reaching branches covered with short bright green needles and short but sharp toxic thorns, terminating in either bright red blossoms or dark brown seedpods. Below the plume, all of the branches are thicker and unlike the plume, they angle downwards from the trunk. These lower branches are usually thorn free. The lower branches are covered with long dark blueish green needles. Each of these branches is longer than the ones above it so that by the time the lowest branches touch the ground, they form an ellipse with an average radius roughly equal to the tree's height.

Where these bottom most branches touch the ground, they sprout bulbous appendages called thornpods. From which spring, plume like vertical shoots up to 10 feet tall. Those shoots are covered with short needles, resembling the ones in the plume, except that these are the same dark blueish green shade as the bulk of the tree. These shoots, also bristle with long purple thorns. All of the thorns on a daggerthorn tree, whether the short ones in the plume or the long ones around the bottom parameter, are covered in an extremely concentrated form of the plants toxic sap.

These trees are actually a hybrid between a terrestrial shrub which had almost completely failed to thrive during the terraforming process and some local microorganism that survived the process, by forming a sub cellular symbiosis with the plant cells. Unlike most plants The stem segments don't just grow longer at the tips of new growth. But it grows longer along it's entire length as it gets taller.

This tree also behaves differently depending on the climate in which it grows. In some regions it grows only in isolated singular plants. The seedpods of which, never germinate within a thousand feet of the parent tree. In cooler/dryer climates it grows in clusters that huddle together close enough that the lower branches often touch before they reach the ground. In which case, they generally twist around each other in such a way as to be able to lean on each other for support.

Under normal conditions, none of them form new branches below the ones that either touch the ground, or entwine with those of a neighboring daggerthorn tree. Thus, providing one knows how to get past the deadly outer thorn wall, a daggerthorn tree or better yet cluster, provides an excellent emergency shelter from the elements.

I believe that the recommended way to safely get past the thorn barrier, is to carefully lift up two or three adjacent thornpods, until you can pass under them. Of course one must take care not to touch the thornpods themselves with bare skin. As they are covered with nearly microscopic thorns that sometimes abruptly grow bigger on contact. And, if it's possible, are even more toxic than the other thorns. Incidentally the daggerthorn's sap, excluding the concentrated form in it's thorns, makes an excellent insect repellent."

By the time Sam finished his description, they were standing in the doorway of the low building.

"Good job Sam," Jake said just before he stepped through the door into a large lounge with many chairs.

"There are rest facilities along the left wall, should you need them," the young serviceman who had escorted them said. "There are some food vendors along the right. You are requested to remain in the building until they process your entry visa's. After which someone will bring them to you and explain whatever transport options you may have."

Less than an hour after making planetfall, their pilot asked to talk to them privately. She led them to a small conference room. Then, after they were all sitting around an oblong table, she began to explain.

"Welcome to the Wildland spaceport," she said. "I'd warn you about the dangerous local wildlife, but your not scheduled to stay here very long. Actually though, I've a few things I do want to tell you. But first you should know that this room is monitored by an automated system that scans all conversation against certain security protocols. And then if none appear violated, stores the conversation against an unlikely command review for about one year before it's automatically deleted. Now the next thing is, I'm going to be flying the air transport that will be bringing you to Firstland. I understand you intend to visit prime: David Miller?"

She paused long enough for Jake to nod.

"That's the plan anyway," he said.

"That's fine, but how your going to get there is one of the things I'd like to discuss," she continued. "I have to fly all the way to Capital city before I'll be at liberty. You have the option of getting off at Westport and then either taking a commercial flight northeast to the central region where prime Miller's estate is located. Or even, if you have the time to enjoy it, taking slower overland transportation. This is the usual route that I believe Jess here has taken before.

However, if you elect to ride with me all the way to Capital city, I will be able to provide you with myself as a personal tour guide along the way north from there to prime Miller's estate. And since I'll be with you, I'll be able to get you seats on faster government flights for however much of the trip you chose to fly. Though I must say, that particular overland route has some beautiful scenery.

Basically this all boils down to the fact that if you travel with me. I can pretty much guarantee you won't lack for willing female company. Otherwise you might not get quite so much of it. It is up to you of course but if I'm going to reserve your seats all the way to Capital city, I need to know before we take off. Which is scheduled to happen in about an hour.

I'll be on leave for just over two weeks. My husband won't be joining me until the second week. So I'm hoping you'll elect to travel with me.

Oh, one other thing you should realize, Firstland isn't like the moonbase or even this spaceport. While it's not uncommon for people to occasionally give their spouse permission to umnn 'play' with someone else. The traditional view is that such things shouldn't be done so casually nor as often as what tends to happen in the service. Generally if you want to get it on with a married woman, you first make acquaintance with her husband. And then you can ask him if he minds if you inquire if she would like it to happen. Then the both of you together can ask him if it's OK. It is, like most things here, a slow process. On the other hand, every now and again some married person will casually mention that they already have permission. In which case it's almost considered impolite for even complete strangers to 'not' offer to share it with them. But that circumstance is not very common.

Which brings me to my last point, if your not going to travel with me, then this next hour might be the only chance we'll get. For me to do something about Sam's first planetside sexperiance. But if you are, then I'm hoping you won't mind putting it off for a few hours. Because frankly I'm a little sore down there and I'd like to enjoy it too."

"Well in this case I think I can speak for all of us," Jake said with a glance at his two friends. "When I say it's only fun if everybody involved is enjoying it. I've no objection to getting there via Capital city."

"Good!" she said. "In that case, since we'll be traveling together socially while I'm on leave, then it's only right that you should know my name. I'm Mary, Mary Hunter. My husband's name is Arnold.

We will be on the plane for about 5 hours or so. There will be some refreshments available onboard. But I suggest you think about getting something for lunch from one of the vendors along the side wall." Mary stood up and opened the door. Then as she gestured suggestively towards the open doorway, she continued. "I'll send someone to collect you from the main lounge in about 45 minutes."

The food vendors carried a variety of food items. There were assorted soups at the first vendor's stall. Another vendor had an assortment of meat filled sauces that were served over rice. Yet another was doing a brisk business selling some kabob like, meals on a stick.

Sam noticed that the other customers were paying for their food with what looked like some kind of wire. Each one produced a roll of it and measured out a short length of it. Then the vendor cut the length from the customers spool and tucked it into a collection bin.

"Boss," Sam said. "It just occurred to me that they probably don't take visa here, right?"

"Jess, I think you told me that some of the vendors at the spaceport have an uplink to the guild banking system," Jake said. "Do you think this would be a good time to acquire some local currency?"

"No problem!" Jess responded.

Then he pulled up the Guild Interbank access screen on his hand held micro computer. Turned the screen so that it faced the kabob vendor, waved and pointed at it. The young man nodded, pushed a couple buttons on his counter and then mostly ignored them. A few seconds later an old women entered the shop from a door in the back. She came forward and looked at the banking image on Jess's hand held.

"You look like newcomers so I'm thinking you need local funds," she said. "The only question is how much?"

"We will be planetside for a while," Jess replied. "So lets make it three standard pocket rolls."

The ladies face brightened considerably.

"Certainly Sir!" she said. As she produced her own hand held.

She touched a few buttons then held it out towards Jess who pressed a stud on his. Then both handhelds chimed and the lady smiled. Then she clapped her hands. An old gentleman walked in from out back. He produced three small spools of wire, which he handed to Jess. Who pocketed one spool and passed the other two on to Jake and Sam.

"So just how much wire is one of those kabobs anyway?" Jake asked.

The old man and lady both looked puzzled.

"How much is a what?" The man asked.

Jake pointed at one of them.

"The price of a mealstick depends on which delicacies are on it," the old man said. "But the one your pointing at will cost you just two inches of prime."

Before Jake could peel any wire off his spool however, the lady spoke up.

"But we wouldn't think of charging you for mealsticks today," she quickly said. "We thank you for the trans-world business. And in appreciation we ask that each of you accept a mealstick of your choice. Free of charge."

The expression on the old mans face indicated that he most certainly would have charged them for the mealsticks. What he said was, "But of course, what was I thinking?"

Jake would have insisted on paying but he got the distinct impression that the lady would be insulted.

"That is most generous of you," he said. "I thank you for your kindness. Boys, it looks like you can each pick out a kab..., that is a mealstick." Then he gently lifted the one he had pointed at from the rack.

Jake was chewing on a bit of some kind of onion when Sam commented.

"These kabobs are delicious," he said. "That was real nice of that lady to give them to us for free."

Then he took a bite out of a piece of lamb from his stick. As Jess almost choked on the mouthful of chicken that he had been enjoying.

"Actually Sam it was just good business sense," Jess explained. "And besides, believe me, we paid for it. Slowlane may have extreme restrictions on trans-world trade. But they highly prize offworld trading credit's, especially from the guild interbank. I ordered three 'standard' rolls. Any one of which is worth more than they usually make in a year. The Guild bank would have paid them a 10% transaction fee for a liquid capital sale. If the bank realized we needed the capital to buy merchandise from them, it would only have wanted to pay them 5%.

Aside from which Slowlane's government will give them a significant tax break if they exchange the trans-world credits we paid them for local currency. And no doubt, that lady is hoping that their vendor seal will still be on the rolls next time we need to buy something. It's sort of like an advertising ploy." Then Jess sized up a piece of beef and just before biting a chunk off of it he added. "None the less, I'm glad she thought of it. This is mighty tasty."

Chapter 17 Exercise

"Look Cindy," Stephanie said. "The only way this is going to work is if we separate the sex from the exercise a little."

"How so?" Cindy asked as she let the dancer slip out of her embrace.

"I've got an idea," Stephanie said. "How about we just exercise for now. Then tomorrow, I'll take you on a field trip where we can play a sex game. During which we could have threesomes with one guy after another. But when we are just by ourselves, like now, we just exercise."

"Well, I guess we can at least try it," Cindy said.
Then she picked up her staff and commenced defending herself. She did good this time. It was almost two minutes before Stephanie got through her guard and lightly tapped the tip of her nose.

"Your improving Cindy," Stephanie admitted. "But you've still got a way to go."

Cindy leaned on her staff and looked Stephanie squarely in the eyes.

"Field Trip, as in to another sidereality?" she asked. Or were you thinking of getting me on a spaceship?"

"Actually, I was thinking of taking you to meet someone at Wildernest," Stephanie replied.

"Wildernest?!?" exclaimed Cindy with a puzzled look. "I hadn't heard that Sandra had succeeded in reestablishing the resonance link yet."

"Actually, one of my mission parameters is to rectify that," Stephanie explained. "Kernislarn's been in contact with me. She's going to establish a passageway for us. Once we get there, I'll be able to use Steve's original portal console, to reestablish a new resonance with Hillside's portal."

"Original console?" Cindy queried. "But I thought Hillside was his first sidereal portal site?"

"Not quite," Stephanie replied as she resumed her assault. Forcing Cindy to concentrate on defending herself while she listened. "Hillside is where he built his first sidereal base of operations. But it was Kernislarn's people who first introduced Steve to certain key concepts on which he built his first portalizer.

It was a rather simple dedicated purpose device. That he custom built for the express purpose of establishing a resonance link with our portal system."

"But I thought," Cindy protested, as she began an aggressive left handed attack with her Staff. "That Steve's the one who built our portal?"

"And so he did," continued Stephanie, as she countered with a technique that centered around alternating left handed thrusts with right handed ones. "But it was through a passageway opened between a seer from Wildernest and some ancient Native American shaman, that Steve brought the prototype of our portal system to Hillside in the first place."

"Oh!" said Cindy, as Stephanie disarmed her with a move that ended with Cindy flat on her back. With one end of Stephanie's staff invading her very personal space. "Does that have something to do with the the fact that our artificial waterfall is actually supposed to be a replica of the falls at Wildernest?"

"Yes," replied Stephanie.

Then she commenced a victory dance of sorts by mounting the other end of the staff and began gently rocking her hips.

Cindy was dressed in a tight looking one piece pink and white leather outfit that Sam had made for her. It was one of a set that he had insisted on making for her. A half dozen leather 'creations' he had said. He had wanted her to work with him on the first 5 of them but the last one, which was to be the only all black one, he then made without her input.

The bottom of the pink and white one was like a white skirt with pink flower patterns, that reached a little below the knees. Cindy had told him that the side of one leg could be left exposed by a slit that wasn't to expose more than half her thigh. Above the waist was to be pink on one side, and white on the other. From each of which a narrow strap rose up from the hip, curving up her back and over the shoulder on the opposite side. Then it would briefly expand to cover her breast as it curved down her chest on it's way to merge once again with the waistband of the skirt segment. She almost got what she asked for. Sam had cut and perforated much of the leather. Making it more revealing. Including a fairly transparent meshwork over the opposite hip and upper thigh. That left little doubt about what she wasn't wearing under it.

Sandra had provided the special nanomorphically enhanced leather, the set was cut from. Thus any one of them could be reconfigured into a variety of forms, including a nearly transparent vacuum suit. By default however, it looked and felt like a kinky leather outfit.

Stephanie was, as usual, wearing just her grass skirt. They were standing in front of the falls in the Great Hall because Stephanie said the view of the falls helped her to tune in Kernislarn's telepathic signal.

There were surprisingly few onlookers as they held hands. Cindy felt something tickle in her mind as she began to feel Kernislarn's unseen presence, leaking into her from Stephanie's hand. Then it seemed to her as if a covered wooden footbridge was forming over the cascading waters until it disappeared into the the middle of the flowing water. Then it seamed as if Stephanie was leading her by the hand as they walked across the bridge and into the dark passage beyond it.

The only people to see them disappear were Erika and Mike. Who was so surprised that he actually stopped whistling in mid tune. They didn't see any bridge. One moment the girls were there, the next they were gone. There had been only a split second in between, when their image looked distorted. Mike recovered first.

"It looks like Stephanie has been in touch with Kernislarn again," he said.

"I do wish Stephanie would warn people when she's going to do that," Erika complained. "It's unsettling."

Cindy found herself staring at the waterfall again. Only it was bigger, louder and wetter. She could feel mist from the falls on her face. Then as she turned to look at Stephanie she saw that she was standing on a platform overlooking the falls. There was a narrow path connecting the platform to the small village by the falls. Standing at the end of that path was a blue skinned amazon. She wasn't wearing clothes but much of her skin had been decorated in symbolic tattoos.

"Welcome to Wildernest," the amazon said. "I'm Kernislarn, mistress of this village. You must be Cindy. Stephanie speaks highly of you." Then with a gesture over her shoulder she suggested. "Do follow me to my hut, that we may relax and speak well."

Then she turned and led them to one of the nearby huts. It consisted of a mushroom shaped bamboo frame with a raised platform in the middle under an oversized dome shaped grass roof. They simply walked under the edge of the roof. Almost six feet in from the edge of the overhanging roof, there was a short two step ladder to a deck like platform, woven from strips of an unusually heavy form of bamboo. On this deck were a collection of stools and benches. There was a hole in the middle of the platform with a small stove like, stone fireplace in it. A clay stove pipe guided most of the smoke out through a vent like opening in the roof. The height of the platform was such that if you were an adult of average size and you sat on one of the stools, you had an unobstructed view of the rest of the village. Yet if you stood up, your head would be slightly higher than the roof edge, which would limit your view to a small circle around the hut. The bottom edge of the roof also aligned with the floor of a pair of upper decks that nearly encircled the central deck. Above the central deck there was also a small storage loft in the very top of the roof's dome. As they stepped inside, Kernislarn introduced a rugged man, who was a little shorter than herself.

"This is Argretoo, my husband," she said. "He is the village robotech."

Argretoo's body, like his wife's, was covered with tattoos. Though the patterns were quite different from the ones on Kernislarn's body. Cindy noticed that Argretoo had a massive nearly erect non-circumcised cock. Then with a gesture towards Cindy, Kernislarn spoke to her husband.

"This, my husband, is Cindy, of whom I've told you," she said.

As soon as he laid eyes on Cindy, Argretoo's cock swelled to a full pulsating erection. That now extended so far that the foreskin no longer concealed it's head. Kernislarn, of course noticed her husbands reaction.

"Argretoo, has heard of your plan to team up with Stephanie to use up one man after another as you share them," she explained. "So, of course he's hoping to be your first victim. But first we must discuss your training."

"My training?" Cindy began. "What about my..."

"Stephanie has told me," Kernislarn interrupted. "That your ready to begin training, while your augmented by 'active' body enhancing nanites. She says that your skills are so advanced however, that she fears she would be unable to ensure that neither of you were actually injured.

So she hopes I will decide to train you in the way of Wilderness. This I will decide in the morning. In the mean time why don't you and Stephanie see how long it takes you to wear out a man like Argretoo. That should make quite a show..."

Cindy was somewhat taken aback by Kernislarn's suggestion but, she decided to enjoy it when Stephanie bodily picked her up and placed her in Argretoo's lap. While lifting the hem of her leather outfit for her, as Argretoo lost no time embedding himself within her.

The Sunset over the falls was beautiful. When Cindy turned to face Kernislarn.

"That certainly was a beautiful sight Kernislarn," Cindy said. "Thank you for bringing me out here. But I get the impression that there's something else on your mind."

"Stephanie said you were quick on the uptake," Kernislarn replied. "This observation platform is one of my favorite places to sit and think." Kernislarn pointed to a row of benches built in to back edge of the platform.

Taking the hint, Cindy sat down. She noticed that the rock ledge behind her, curved outwards slightly. It was almost like having a roof over the benches. Kernislarn sat beside her.

"It's also a good place for a private talk Cindy," Kernislarn said. "Especially between sunset and moonrise, when there isn't enough light to see much of the falls. We will neither be disturbed nor overheard. You may have noticed Cindy, that were not big on privacy here."

"That's for sure," Cindy replied. "But I'm OK with it. I'm not the bashful type. Though I'll admit I was a little shocked when Jirunoo reached out to clean my backside for me at the community toilet."

Kernislarn held up her hand and Cindy fell silent.

"That incident brings me to the problem," Kernislarn continued. "But don't worry, she isn't angry with you. Though she feels that Stephanie should have explained our conventions a little better. But I'm not talking about it being easier for someone else to see what they are doing, when cleaning up back there after a bowel movement. Than it is to blindly reach back behind oneself. Though I too think Stephanie should have explained this part of our customs to you.

No the problem has to do with the nature of your comments to Jirunoo. It is never acceptable among us to suggest that another desires sexual relations with a member of their own sex."

"But!" Cindy exclaimed. "Then why did you want to watch Stephanie And I..."

Again Kernislarn held up her hand.

"I was watching both of you pleasure my husband," Kernislarn pointed out. "Not pleasuring each other."

"But I distinctly remember that Stephanie and I also touched each other quite a bit in the process."

"True enough," Kernislarn admitted. "However our moral values don't have a problem with two members of the same sex helping each other time their climaxes to coincide with that of the member of the opposite sex that they are sharing. This is not the same thing as suggesting that another woman wants to touch you sexually, when there isn't a man involved."

Cindy considered this for a moment.

"But surely you were aware of the attraction between Stephanie and myself?" she asked.

"Given the telepathic link I sometimes share with Stephanie," Kernislarn explained. "I couldn't 'not' be aware of her inclinations. But while I was quite sure of how she felt about you. I could only suspect that the feeling was mutual. Until you said as much, like you just did, I simply could not even suggest that 'you' might be so attracted to other girls. Now at least we can discuss it."

"Well if it's OK for me to enjoy helping Stephanie have sex with a guy," Cindy began. "Then I can safely promise not to go beyond that while we are here and I can certainly otherwise confine my attentions to just the men." Then after a barely noticeable pause, Cindy continued. "I will also try to remember, the next time some hot looking girl doesn't ask me before she touches me down there, not to call her a dike. Will that suffice?"

If the moon hadn't chosen that moment to rise, Cindy wouldn't have seen Kernislarn's smile but there would have been no mistaking the relief in her voice as she replied.

"Yes, for the most part I believe that will do," Kernislarn said. "The only remaining obstacle is of little substance." Kernislarn paused for effect. "We wouldn't dream of asking you to stop liking girls that way. But, given that you did also suggest that she might fare better if she asked you first, I'd like to know if I can safely reassure Jirunoo that, you will at least, refrain from 'wanting her' on purpose?"

Kernislarn's eyes didn't need the moonlight to see Cindy's face brighten with amusement.

"Well, I'll tell you what, you can tell her and anyone else you think might worry about it. That my attraction to Stephanie is about her. And not about the fact that she is a girl. I don't 'usually' feel that way about girls."

Kernislarn nodded at the shimmering beauty of the moonlight reflecting from the water as it poured over the falls.

"I'm glad we had this talk," Kernislarn replied. "It's worked out even better than I had hoped. But now the beauty of the falls by moonlight makes it likely that if we continue talking, we may well be overheard.

But there is another personal matter that is perhaps less sensitive. I've decided that I will accept you as an apprentice. This is not however, the same as being accepted into the sisterhood. But it is none the less, a serious matter. So I need to know if the risk of being overheard makes you feel uncomfortable discussing this mater?"

"I'm sure your more worried about our privacy than I am," Cindy said.

Again Kernislarn smiled.

"Good!" she said. "I did want to say that I very much hope you find the terms of apprenticeship acceptable Cindy. It would please me to guide the woman of any apprentice of our Questor. What's more, if this Jake is truly going to risk standing up to the guild counsel. Then your need for what I can teach you couldn't possibly be any greater. So I'm willing to risk the effort on you, without exacting any further promise from you. Except of course this. If you accept apprenticeship from me, you will need to agree that from me, you will have no secrets. I may intrude on your very thoughts to determine what lessons you may need. And that if ever you feel you can not abide by what I teach, you will immediately consult with me about it.

If this is acceptable to you then you may accept my offer now. Will you be my apprentice?"

"Yes but may I ask you a question about Steve?" Cindy replied.

"You may certainly ask," Kernislarn said. "Perhaps it will even be a question I can answer."

"Stephanie told me that Steve actually needed your help to build Hillside's portalizer?" Cindy asked.

"Yes," Kernislarn replied, "Perhaps tonight is the right time for you to hear that tale."

***

"This is to be a retelling of events that began so long ago, that no one here remembers them," Kernislarn began just before her first sip from the ceremonial teacup. "It was first told to me long ago by my mother. Who herself was not yet born when this tale was begun. Nonetheless, I tell you for a certainty, that this tale is a true retelling of what actually was."

Argretoo, held aloft the remote control device, that was the symbol of his office. It beeped twice and then glowed with a dim blue light.

"The archives have been queried and conflicting records have yet to be found," he proclaimed.

This was as close to asserting the accuracy of a story as any robotechnician ever came. Then he stepped down, leaving his wife alone on the central pedestal of the village meeting hut. He quickly sat between Cindy and Stephanie. Promptly placing his hands on their knees. He made no suggestive motions but his rising erection betrayed his thoughts. Cindy tried to concentrate on the story Kernislarn was now telling.

"Long ago while our world was still healing from the old ways," Kernislarn said. "We were visited by a stranger from another star. He told us he was trying to map the universe. It is said that he took our laughter well.

Many years later he returned. He didn't stay long. And he didn't talk to us. But we knew he was there. We saw that he was looking for something. Then when he decided that it wasn't here, he left. That was the last we saw of him until one day when my mother, Pewanist, was but a young woman 20 years of age, he came back. His space ship had crashed in the forest. The spaceman was severely injured when Pewanist found him. She was not yet a healer in those days. Fortunately, she didn't have to be. There was something in him that healed his body before her eyes.

But within his mind there was a terrible wound. She gave him refuge while he suffered evil dreams and a waking torment that he would not name. When pressed he would only say that he had seen and done terrible things. And that he had powerful enemies that he feared would bring harm to anyone who befriended him. Regardless of his claim to having committed acts so horrible that he could not stand to name them. Pewanist saw within him an honorable man. And it came to be that her heart became his.

For a time, they lived as one. Their happiness was only marred by his growing apprehension that his enemies might yet find him even here. Then one day he decided that he must go forth and find a place to build a secret fortress from which to fight his enemies. By that time, my mother had learned the ways of the sisterhood. And he had learned of our ability to form passageways between worlds and planes of reality. So he asked her to help him find a reality plane so far beside our own, that, should his enemies one day find his hidden stronghold, they would yet be unable to trace his path back to Rebirth.

She knew that he would leave her when he found what he was seeking. But she knew it was his fear for her safety that tormented him. Until it was an agony that grew stronger each day. His pain had become more than she could stand to watch. So she agreed to help him find such a place.

My mother, was a young sister of 35 years when she began to take him on a long series of wandering journeys through many passageways. Sometimes he would leave behind a small crystal that he said might one day help him find his own way back. They journeyed together in this way for several years. Until one day when he combined his considerable knowledge with what he learned from his journeys with my mother, to build two strange machines designed to make a different kind of passageway. Then once more, my mother opened a passageway to your world Cindy.

There they brought one of the machines. And after they established a safe a place for it, Pewanist returned with him back here. It was then that he bid her a tearful farewell and used the machine he had hidden here at Wildernest to open a strange door like passageway that he called a portal. Through which he departed to go build himself a stronghold. It was many years before he became such a powerful questor that he felt he could finally protect my mother from his enemies. And thus dared to return to Wildernest and to Pewanist.

We of the sisterhood tend to live long healthy lives. But while he still had the appearance of youthful vigor, my mother's skin had begun to wrinkle. To his credit, he did not even seem to see her age and they spent a few years in happy dalliance while he tried to persuade her to become his wife. But though she still had many years left of health and vigor. Pewanist pointed at the signs of her aging.

Then my mother said to him. 'If you truly love me, you will not ask me to watch myself wither away before you. Go forth and know that my love will always go with you.'

For several years our Questor returned every few seasons. But in time he perceived the pain it caused my mother to be reminded of his youth. And his visits became shorter and further apart. I was but a girl of 3 years when I first met him. I was nearly 8 when next I saw him. I was 127 years when my mother passed from this life. It was not until I was 136 that I found out how deeply he loved my mother. For that was when I had the sad chore of telling him that she was no more.

He had stepped through his portal to bring her a message from an old friend. He found me in her favorite spot by the falls. He started to ask me where she was. But in his heart he knew she was gone before I said a word. He saw it in my eyes. Even as I saw within his, a desperate plea for me to say it wasn't true. When I could not, I saw the strongest man I've ever met crumble into a useless wreck. Who spent most of the next two years weeping before her memorial tree.

Eventually though he realized that she wouldn't have wanted him to waste the rest of his long life in lament. And so he left us once more. In the 1298 years since then, he has returned but rarely.

Though through his portal, a few of his associates have visited us more often. Those occasions when he has graced us with his presence, have usually been to bring some new friend or other, who needed a place to rest and recuperate.

But every time he did come, he would spend much time silently staring into the falls at night by the light of the moon. By sunrise he would invariably be weak with grief. I once asked him why he tortured himself so. He told me that reliving his memories of her was more than worth such pain. The last time he was here was nearly 25 years ago."

Kernislarn fell silent. She held her teacup upside down above her head. So that all assembled could see that it was now empty. Then she added, "That was a true retelling of things that were."

Then Kernislarn turned to face Cindy. As she stepped down from the central pedestal.

"That Cindy, is also why I almost wish your Jake had strayed from you," Kernislarn admitted. "That he might have accompanied our Questor here the day when Jake first learned what he had become. I would have had the pleasure of a visit with an old friend who I rarely get to see.

But then had he done so, it isn't very likely that you would ever have become my apprentice. So perhaps it is better this way after all."

Chapter 18 Something Odd In The Sky Of A Strange Land

Darg didn't bother much with people. He was self sufficient. He didn't really need anything the local villagers had to offer. Though sometimes he traded with them anyway. Occasionally he traded furs for certain fresh farm raised fruits and vegetables that he couldn't get in the wilderness. Most of the time however, he avoided them.

It wasn't hard. His woodcraft was such that even an experienced snowlander like Amid would be hard pressed to track him when he didn't want to be found. Of course, staying out of sight around here was almost too easy because there were very few who knew what to look for. In fact Darg sometimes even doubted that the average farming village raised 'hunter' could properly track a stampeding heard of Woolbeasts. Even so, he covered his tracks like he would if he thought Amid was looking for him.

Darg made sure there was no one to see him come out of the brush. Then he carefully approached the fish trap that he had placed in the stream the previous morning. He hoped to find enough of the tasty skippers to make for a good meal. Along with enough leftover smoked fillet strips to last him for a journey of three or four days. He had been in this valley long enough. He thought that three or four large skippers would make enough fillets to get him to the next valley. He could of course forage for enough edible plants along the way to keep himself alive.

He would however, need the protean in the fish if he expected to keep his strength up well enough, to outdistance the howlers that had begun tracking him. Especially if he actually had to fight them off before they gave up the chase.

The trap consisted of a small well placed round net like basket, with it's only opening nearly flush with the surface of the stream. If he placed it well, the skippers would have skipped along the top of the water fast enough to jump over the rock his trap was fastened to. If they landed inside the ring shaped opening in the top of the basket, they wouldn't have enough room to get going fast enough to jump back out. While the less desirable fish wouldn't find it easy to get into the basket, to rob him of his prey.

He was disappointed to find only two skippers in the trap but he decided they would have to do. So Darg quickly gutted and boned them. Then he headed for his current camp where he cut the flesh into strips and made a small cook fire. He wrapped the fish in stinkweed leaves while the fire built up the hot bed of coals he needed, to cook and preserve the fish with the odorous oils from the stinkweed leaves.

He was then careful to stand upwind of the smoldering stench until the oils burned off and the smell faded. By the time the fish was ready, evening was fast approaching so he decided to eat on the run. While the fishy bundles smoldered he had filled his pack with everything else he was taking with him. Now Darg quickly pealed back the charred leaf far enough to extract a couple strips of fish and stuck the rest in his pack. He kept his bow strung and handy, as he began walking further north.

It wasn't long after nightfall that he heard the blood curdling sound of a howler pack on his scent. They were too close for him to outdistance this night, so he quickly climbed a stout tree. Then he made ready his entire stock of arrows. First he tied his pack to the tree trunk. Then he carefully unwrapped his three remaining poison tipped arrows. That he had prepared last spring with the poisonous slime from the spines of a freshly caught yellowfin fish. These he carefully poked through some of the leather like leaves of the stonewood tree he had taken refuge in.

Darg was careful to ensure that he could quickly retrieve these arrows one at a time. Next he slung his quiver with the rest of his arrows over his shoulder and fitted one of the nonpoisonous arrows to his bow string.

He didn't have long to wait. Soon the pack of howlers were gathered around his tree. It was a large hunting pack of six adults and three juveniles who were still learning how to hunt. He waited until one of the reckless juveniles tried to climb his tree, before he sank his first arrow into it's neck. It was mortally wounded but not yet dead. It's 'pack survival' instinct made it keep coming. The second arrow sunk deeply into the soft tissue of it's cavernous nasal cavity, piercing it's brain. Even so, it screamed in rage for a few seconds before it fell to the ground dead.

During those seconds, two of the more experienced adults tried to climb up the other side of the tree where he would have difficulty getting a clean shot. They were quick climbers so he wouldn't have much time before they reached him. He fitted one of the three treated arrows and shot the nearest one in the shoulder. It took less than two heartbeats for the poisoned beast to loose it's grip on the tree and fall. It's dead body nearly dislodging the second one as it fell. To keep from being knocked out of the tree this howler had changed it's position slightly. Giving Darg a brief, but clear shot at it's face.

He felt a need to conserve his two remaining treated arrows so he took the shot with one of the untreated arrows. The beast was close enough that his first shoot passed through it's eye socket, sinking deeply enough into it's brain that it was unable to keep it's grip and fell howling to the ground where it died. Filled with rage, the four remaining adult howlers charged up the tree all at once, with the two remaining juveniles following close behind them.

He felled the nearest beast with one of the remaining two treated arrows. Then as the small fast moving moon called Windchaser, rose in the western sky, Darg took advantage of it's light. To see the exact position of both the next nearest adult howler and the juvenile below it. Darg aligned his last treated arrow for a risky trick shot that passed through the adults scrotum on it's way to sticking into the back of the Juvenile.

Neither beast got a full dose of the poison but enough of it had transferred to the adult's bloodstream, that it didn't last more than two heart beats before it fell, dislodging the rapidly weakening Juvenile on the way down. Both were dead by the time they hit the ground. Then he managed to sink two arrows in rapid succession into next nearest adult.

One of which passed into it's open mouth and through it's tongue. It sunk deeply into the beast's throat at such an angle as to sever one of it's vocal cords. This changed the sound of it's howl. The second arrow slipped past it's ribs and pierced it's heart. Darg quickly fitted another arrow and started to draw a bead on the last adult. Which was far too close for anything less than a brain shot, to kill it before it reached him and he didn't yet have a clear shot at it's eyes.

Fortunately the beast must have begun to realize that it was now the only adult howler left and that it's intended prey had killed the vast majority of it's hunting pack with arrows like the one that was now pointing in it's direction. Not knowing the difference between the poison arrows and the few that Darg had left, the last adult howler suddenly retreated. Leading the last juvenile down the tree and into the night.

Darg spent the rest of the night in the tree. Alternately scanning the woods for signs that the howler was coming back and looking up at the night sky, for an omen to explain why he was still alive. It was still dark when Windchaser set in the east. The bigger slower moon, Cloudroller wouldn't be rising until the twilight of the early dawn. Then he saw a strange light in the sky. It wasn't the kind of omen he was expecting but he had seen something like it once before.

Many years ago when his path had first crossed that of the strange nameless mage who had gifted him with a jewel like crystal disk and taught him to use it to light campfires with the light of the sun. As well as how to use it to see things clearly at great distances. The erratically moving light would have been a frightening omen, even if that mage hadn't warned him of the danger that could accompany such a sight.

He took his crystal from the leather pouch he wore around his neck and twisted the metal ring that bound it until he could see the light more clearly as it settled toward the big lake that some stupid Midlander had dubbed the Drinkwater sea. As soon as the light of new day dawned, Darg started hiking as fast as he knew how. In order to gain the vantage point of the peak of Sailbird mountain, where on a clear day he could, with the help of his crystal, actually see all the way to the near side of the Drinkwater.

Chapter 19 The Ruins of XenDar

They had walked along the ShellWays for the nights of nine days after saying farewell to MoonCloud before they began to pass over an oblong hill. The hill itself wasn't visible in the dark but BillSong knew it was there. Because he was looking at where he couldn't see any of the glowing ShellWays and the hill was just tall enough that only a few of the uppermost BranchCritters passed over it. Lower level BranchCritters curved around and latched on to other trees on the same side of the hill. BillSong looked down at it with some interest.

"I'm not sure," he said. "But I think this is the hill I've been looking for. I'd like to be a little further around it's edge. When the morning light gives me a better look at it."

Half a cycle later BillSong sat on one of the ShellWay's taller ridge segments.

"I think," he said. "That this is where I'd like to be sitting. While I watch the dawn's light shine on the hill below us."

Two subcycles later they could see that one end of the hill appeared to consist of a ledge. The exposed solid rock was shaped like a wedge. Near the point of the wedge there was an opening in the rock. That appeared to be a tunnel to the other side. Because an old looking BranchCritter seamed to pass right through it. BillSong pointed at the place where the BranchCritter passed into the cave.

"We just need to get down there," he said.

Three cyclets later they were lowering themselves on nano-morphic threads. Then they walked along the shell of the old BranchCritter that they could see disappearing into the cave mouth.

Inside the cave they soon came to an ancient looking ForkHub. Where three BranchCritter segments joined into one creature. The one they walked in on, one which exited the opening on the other side and a very odd looking one. The strange BranchCritter segment had a very narrow but thick top shell.

This third BranchCritter passed into a dark tunnel that led deeper into the hill.

"Watch your step on this odd narrow shell," BillSong advised Questor. "It's a little slippery in places."

Then with light from BillSong's bio-stove and Questor's stick they walked into the darkness. Questor kept shining his light on the walls of the tunnel. Where there were some ancient markings. Some like primitive drawings of long extinct animals. Then there was an unmistakable painting of a lake or sea. Which was odd here on XenDar where neither existed. Then the markings were replaced by some symbolic characters. Which gradually became more advanced looking as they passed deeper into the cave.

Questor could hardly contain his excitement. As he noticed that many of the symbols resembled the indecipherable markings found in some 'Kindred' ruins. By then Questor had noticed that this unusual BranchCritter didn't have any foliage vines. Instead it appeared to have some moss like growth on it's lower body. That in places had started to cover the OverShell. These were the slippery places that BillSong had warned him about.

Eventually they reached the end of the BranchCritter. Where it had latched onto what appeared to be an artificial TreeWell. Which was carved out of the stone itself.

Just above the artificial TreeWell there was a long stone stairway leading upwards to an archway. Behind which there was a series of five chambers which had been carved out of the rock. When they reached the small landing just outside the archway they could see into all five chambers. Each one was behind and slightly above the one before it. Each with two shallow stone steps visible at the back. Connecting it to the next, smaller chamber. Except for the last which appeared to have a depression in it's floor that fell below their line of sight.

The walls of the chambers were covered with markings both symbolic and pictorial. Just inside the entrance of each chamber there was a pedestal. Which was placed so that the collection of crystal disks on it's surface could be seen through the doorways. Which were so aligned as to provide a clear line of sight from the vantage point of the entrance to the first chamber.

With his enhanced vision Questor could see that the symbolic markings on each disk were in fact unique. The first chamber's pedestal had the largest top surface. Which displayed 243 disks. The second was somewhat smaller with only 81 disks. The third had 27 disks. There were just 9 on the fourth and as might be expected the last pedestal held only 3 disks.

Two of which were exact copies of the ones in BillSong's pouch.

"I couldn't have described it," BillSong said. "So I never mentioned the way I feel here. It's like I can sense the presence of some hidden thing. Watching and somehow judging me here. But now that we are here I need to know if you feel it too?"

Questor hesitated briefly, then he began to speak in a monotone with a steady rhythm.

"My host-mind instructed me," he said. "To inform you that he has reported a similar impression. He has had the impression of such a presence since he first set foot on the outer BranchCritter. On the shell of which you entered the tunnel. He reported that the sensation feels much stronger here than it was out there. I can not validate his impression. Without launching a squad of nano-scouts to deepscan the premises. I was also asked to tell you that my host-mind asked me to refrain from the use of any such non-passive scanning techniques.

He did not request that I refrain from informing you. That while I cannot validate such things as what he describes as a 'hunch'. I have learned to not presume that his hunches have no value.

He did however tell me to ask you if your 'sense' agrees with his 'hunch's' strong impression. That it would be better not to touch any of the disks on this pedestal?"

As he said the last word Questor gestured towards the pedestal with a wave of his hand. When his hand passed over the outermost edge of the pedestal he detected his host-mind's sudden and intense discomfort. At that same moment he saw BillSong stagger.

"Yeah, that would be yes," BillSong said. "Please don't mess with that pedestal."

"Don't worry," Questor replied. In a more human voice. "I've just instructed my nanosymbiont. To monitor my movements and prevent me from accidentally invading it's space again.

But I intend a closer inspection of the other pedestals. And I want to see what's in that depression in the floor of the fifth chamber. Will you come with me?"

"Well since I've been there before," BillSong said. "I can tell you. That there's a hole in the fifth chamber's floor where a circular shaft sinks into the depths below. From this shaft there rises a faint foul smell that doesn't invite closer inspection. But more importantly, I feel forbidden to so much as look into it's depths. I will not again approach the abyss below it any closer than the entrance to the fifth chamber. But if you must see this for yourself. I will accompany you as far as that doorway."

As they passed through each chamber, there was always one more graphic image and one more section of symbolic markings on the walls near it's entrance. Where they could not be seen from the previous chambers. Each of the next three pedestals inspired Questor's host-mind. To have the same hunch that he should keep his hands off...

The last chamber felt different. The first thing Questor did was to peer down into the circular shaft. It's diameter was nearly three arms. The bottom wasn't visible due to a slight curve in the structure of the shaft but it appeared to be quite deep. It's sides were of smooth cut stones stacked in an interlocking pattern. The surface of each stone was approximately two subarms tall and five wide. At the back of the shaft, one stone of every other layer was recessed enough to serve as a crude ladder. After he looked down the shaft Questor turned and approached the pedestal bearing the thee disks.

"I've got a hunch," he said. "That I can touch these disks if I'm careful enough. And I don't feel anything one way or the other about that sink hole over there. How about you BillSong?"

BillSong was standing resolutely just outside the fifth chamber.

"That is indeed how I felt," he said after a brief pause. "The first time I was here. But now, I feel like the whole chamber you are standing in is forbidden to me. And that pit now frightens me."

Questor carefully passed his hand over the disks on this last pedestal.

"It actually feels like I've been invited," he said. "To choose some of these disks to take for my own. Even as I presume you took yours. But I feel like I should take care not to touch all three."

"Yes it was the same for me until I chose mine," BillSong said. "And yes the answer to your unspoken question is I took my two disks from that table. I have no idea where the two replacements came from. They were 'not' there when I left."

Questor chose to only take the third disk that was different from the two BillSong had. As soon as he made his decision and before his hand even began it's motion to pick it up. He suddenly felt that he was no longer welcome to touch either of the others. He felt that he should pick up 'his' disk, at once. He also felt invited to descend into the shaft below.

Once he had his disk in his hand he stood still for a moment examining it carefully. He was interrupted by BillSong.

"Do you not feel compelled to leave that chamber?" he asked.

"Actually, no I don't," Questor said. "In fact I think I'm wanted down there."

BillSong shuddered.

"Then I shall wait for you in the trees until the second dawn," he said. "But do not look for me to come in after you. If you do not find your own way out."

Questor thought about it for a moment.

"No, BillSong," he said. "I will leave with you. I've a hunch that I'll still be welcome to climb down that hole when I come back. And come back I will. But I've already made arrangements to see someone that it wouldn't do to keep waiting. And I've a few other things to tend to before I'll really have the time. Shall we go?"

Without a word BillSong began to walk back towards the entrance. As they left Questor had the impression. That he shouldn't spend any more time than he needed to. Before he returned to climb down into the darkness below.

Chapter 20 The Gift of Wildernest

Cindy picked up her pink and white leather dress from the shelf on which she had placed it 3 weeks ago. She was looking forward to getting home to Hillside. Yet at the same time she regretted having to leave Wildernest. She decided to configure the nano-leather as a shoulderbag. She would spend this day like any other she began at Wildernest, stark naked. She wondered what her friends would think of her new tattoos.

There were two of them. Between her breasts she now sported a ring of fire similar to the one Stephanie had. Like Stephanie's tattoo, both of Cindy's were applied with an ink brush that didn't need to break the skin. For the pigments of the special inks to work their way into the cell structure. It had been quite an honor when Kernislarn had first asked her if she would accept the mark and become an honorary 'Sister' of Rebirth.

She had been doing well in her training. A fact that she attributed more to Kernislarn's telepathic training methods, than to her own aptitude. Stephanie however appeared impressed with her improvement, the last time they had sparred.

"You've improved some more," was all Stephanie actually said.

"Tell me again," Cindy had teased. "Why you insist on only sparing with me when I'm not nano-boosted?"

"Because," Stephanie had replied tolerantly, "Your just too damn good, bitch! I explained that to you before Kernislarn even started polishing your skills. My superior augmentation would still give me the upper hand, even when your boosted, but not enough of an advantage for me to guarantee that neither of us gets seriously hurt."

"Oh?" Cindy had chuckled. "Is that it? But seriously, I know that Kernislarn's training has improved my ability to use Sandra's booster packs effectively. But it sounds like you think my non-boosted skill has also improved?"

Stephanie stepped back and leaned on her staff in the deceptively relaxed defensive pose they used to signify a temporary truce like pause in the combat.

"Really girl," Stephanie had alleged. "If Jake's not careful your gonna knock him on his ass!" Then with a shrug she added, "Once anyway... But since you brought the subject up. I want to talk to you about your boosted state. I've been watching you spar with Kernislarn. And I noticed something disturbing."

Cindy leaned on her staff acknowledging the truce.

"Disturbing you say?" Cindy inquired.

"Yes!" Stephanie continued. "I've got great respect for Sandra's work Cindy. In fact, I like her nano-toys so much that I had her install a bunch of them in my staff. And while my augmentation is incompatible with the body boosters she packages up for some of you, I do pay attention to what they can do.

The fact is Cindy, your getting more out of your body boosters than you should. Your boosted reflexes, for example, are at least 20% faster than should be possible. And even when I allow for the way you've learned to use them in controlled minibursts, You don't run out of them nearly fast enough. I'm quite sure the results of my assessments would alarm the guild council." Then seeing apprehension in Cindy's eyes, Stephanie added, "Don't worry, I'm certainly not going to tell those pompous asses about it. But don't count on fooling Steve. Nor even Jake for very long."

There was relief in Cindy's voice when she replied.

"We don't intend to," she explained. "But Sandra made me promise to keep it a secret until Steve got back. Still, I think your right, her nano-technology has advanced a great deal further than she lets on. She only shared so much of it with me, because she thought I might become a target for some enemy, that Jake doesn't yet know he needs to protect me from..."

Stephanie smiled.

"Sandra is a very smart woman Cindy," she allowed. "To tell you the truth, that's the very reason I wanted Kernislarn to train you."

"And she has been a very good student Stephanie," Kernislarn's voice intruded on their discussion, as she stepped out of the shadows. "In fact Cindy your combat skills have progressed so far, that there is little more I can teach you.

What's more, you've reached a skill level so impressive that I'm proud to offer you honorary membership in my order."

As she said that she traced the circle that burned in her own cleavage. Cindy almost dropped her staff but recovered quickly enough to deflect Stephanie's strike.

"Damn it girl, your getting too good, Stephanie protested. "It took me a full year to earn my fire ring. Very well, I concede, I can't beat you anymore without using my augmentation." Then Stephanie laughed. "You realize your going to have a hard time finding good sparing partners."

It was only one week earlier that Cindy had asked Kernislarn about the other tattoo.

"Can I ask a favor from you?" She had said.

"You can certainly ask," Kernislarn replied.

"Would you mind giving me a tattoo?" Cindy asked.

"That depends," Kernislarn answered. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well actually it's a little more than just a tattoo," Cindy hedged. "I was hoping you would help me to permanently remove all traces of my pubic hair. Then put a heart down there with an arrow through it. And finally, in the very fine detail that sets your tattoos apart from the best my people can do, I'd like a close inspection of the arrow itself to reveal Jake's name."

Kernislarn had frowned for a moment then she laughed.

"I suppose you intend to point at it every now and then when you ask him to pierce your heart again?" Kernislarn replied. "Sure we can do this. But I think we better discuss the style of heart your looking for. I don't suppose you really want an anatomically accurate one."

"No," Cindy had agreed. "That wouldn't do at all."

She felt fortunate that Kernislarn had done both tattoos for her. The special inks used here on rebirth retained much greater detail over time than anything Sam could have done for her. This way even the ultra fine detail work that put Jake's name on the arrow shaft would remain crisp and clear for a very long time.

She adjusted the shoulder strap of her pink and white bag, so that the the bag hung just above her left hip and the strap crossed over to her right shoulder just below the circular tattoo in her cleavage. She fondly fingered the circle and stepped outside to where they were waiting for her.

"Are you ready?" Stephanie asked.

Before Cindy could answer Kernislarn interrupted.

"One moment please!" she began. "I'm sad to see you leave sister and I look forward to your next visit. But before you leave, I have another gift for you. It is an honor we extend but rarely to offworlders.

You have been a good student Cindy. It should come as no surprise to you that I've been studying you closely since the moment you first arrived. But I doubt you realize just how closely... The science of Rebirth doesn't include nanites. We chose a different path.

We are however aware of how your nano-technology interacts with our natural science. And I have been most interested in the difference between the mechanisms that Sandra has concocted for you and the ones that Steve gave to Stephanie. I'm happy to inform you that I have been able to formulate an elixir of life for you."

When Kernislarn mentioned the elixir, Stephanie's eyes betrayed surprise and for the briefest moment, something close to envy.

"It can," continued Kernislarn. "Restore the vitality that the genetic code you were born with would have given you, if only you had always been protected from the damage caused by exposure to cosmic and other energetic particles. In your case this would not greatly increase your physical strength nor grant you significantly faster physical reflexes. Though you might notice some improvement when your not actively using Sandra's nano-boost technology. What it would do for you is to greatly improve your immunity to diseases and hasten the healing of any wounds you may suffer.

It's main benefit, however, would be to help you to utilize more of your brain and perhaps the latent telepathic abilities that I believe are hidden there. You would eventually become able to reach out to my mind, even as Stephanie does. But unlike her, your mindsong may eventually become strong enough to reach me, even when I'm not trying to listen. It won't serve to link your brain directly to artificial control systems. But it won't interfere with the link you have developed with that control module. Which you had hidden in the leather garment you wore when you arrived here. In fact, it may even increase the speed and accuracy with which the organic synapses of your brain access it."

As Kernislarn described the elixir, Cindy remembered that Stephanie had told her of this elixir that gave the people of Rebirth greater vitality and strength than most people. Stephanie had also said that she had once had to choose between accepting the gift of it or keeping the augmentation Steve had given her.

"I've heard of this elixir," Cindy spoke up. "Stephanie told me it was a rare and precious potion, of which your supply is limited. She also told me why she declined it, many years ago. I need to think carefully, so that I may choose wisely. My heart wants me to accept this honor. But Jake is like Steve. And sooner or later he's bound to offer me some kind of augmentation like Stephanie's."

"It is well that you would consider such things," Kernislarn continued. "But you won't have to make that decision until such a time as he does. What would happen if you accepted such a gift from Jake, is that his nanites would assume control and the benefits of the elixir would soon fade. But in the meantime, the vitality my elixir can give you, combined with the way Sandra's toys can shield you, would make of you a surprisingly formidable foe. To whoever might foolishly attack you or perhaps one of your friends." It took only a few seconds for Cindy to make up her mind.

"Very well then, I'll accept the honor," she said. At which point Kernislarn handed her a small bottle.

"It has a strong taste," she cautioned. "Which will quickly fade as you begin feel it's benefits."

Cindy raised the bottle to her lips and drank the liquid fire within. As she felt it's effects burn though her body, Cindy thought about the side effects that Stephanie had told her about.

"How long before I lose the rest of my hair?" Cindy asked.

Kernislarn laughed.

"I did say I had specially formulated this dose for you," Kernislarn replied. "Perhaps I should have explained that this batch shouldn't have much effect on your hair. Except perhaps it might affect it's color slightly. Now before you ask about the bluing. In your case there should be little change in your outer appearance. Though it's likely that, should you cut your finger, your blood might briefly appear more blue than red."

Chapter 21 Air Power Failure

The remotely powered aircraft took off vertically. There wasn't any sound. At least not loud enough for the passengers to hear from inside the aircraft. That is to say, it would take augmented hearing to detect the distinct nearly subsonic hum of the power conversion system as it converted it's power signal's resonance value into usable energy. Or the faint high pitched whine as the central air impeller matrix began pushing air through it's belly thruster ducts fast enough to achieve a smooth lift off from it's landing pad.

On the other hand Jake decided that the simultaneous click. Followed by the nearly undetectable floor vibration, as the wing segments locked into their horizontal flight positions. All combined in such a way that any observant passenger would have felt the reassuring moment when the wings were secured in their mounting brackets. He also decided that no one onboard could fail to notice being gently pushed into the seatbacks by the acceleration. As the the impeller power level increased to feed the primary horizontal thruster vents. Which rapidly accelerated them to cruising speed. It was about two minutes after takeoff when Mary's voice came over the sound system.

"Welcome aboard," Mary's voice said. "This is your pilot. We are on course and on schedule. Passengers may now move about the passenger compartment at will."

Jake was the first one out of his safety harness but he chose to wait until his companions stood up, to check out the view from the observation deck. Most of the other passengers wore Slowlane Service uniforms. Though about one third of them wore something else.

The majority of those wore either a pair of bib-front overpants or bib-front knee length dresses, depending on their gender. They hadn't been on their feet long when Mary appeared in the passageway to the forward crew compartment.

"Hello lover boys," she said with a smile. "I thought I'd check on you. My copilot is pretty good, so I can visit for a few minutes. This leg of the flight will take about 2 hours. Then we should be on the ground at Westport for perhaps 20 minutes before we spend another couple hours in flight to Capital City. Can I get you anything?"

"Anything you like," said Sam.

The other passengers tried not to stare at Sam's form fitting leather outfit. At least the ones in the bib-fronts tried not to. Those in Service uniforms didn't pretend not to be at least casually curious about him.

"Be on your best behavior Sam," Jake spoke up. "You've got an audience and I suspect that you make some of them nervous."

"Yes Boss, I have noticed the 'fiery hot', cold shoulder I've been feeling," Sam said.

People began losing interest in the view displayed on the observation deck's big screen. When the view faded to a monotonous image of the ocean streaming by. That is, everyone except for Jake's team. They seamed to find the view fascinating. When Mary excused herself to relieve her copilot by taking her place at the controls. She pointed at the observation deck's intercom talk switch.

"I'll be monitoring that channel," Mary said. "So if you need something..."

"In the meantime though, there is some risk of turbulence," she explained as she pointed at the simplistic image of a seat harness that had just become illuminated. "So if you wouldn't mind, please sit down and strap yourself in. Thank you."

Twenty minutes later, Mary saw only a glimpse of the flash out of the corner of her eye through the cockpit's direct view window. The flash was the direct result of the island power relay station suddenly disintegrating. Slowlane's advanced medical system could have eventually saved her other eye, even without help from the medical nanites Jake wound up leaving in her system.

She didn't need to see to know what happened. The control yoke in her hand was suddenly sluggish as she doled out her limited emergency reserve power to maximize their glide path. Slowlane pilots were trained to fly by touch using their biofeedback enabled control systems.

She didn't know how but something had to have completely disrupted the power outflow from the power relay station. The brief build up of thermal energy before the primary power signal could be terminated. Would have been more than enough to vaporize the artificial island that housed it. What she didn't understand was why it seemed like her sight was slowly returning. Just then she heard Jake's voice, as one of his nano-pods took up residence in her inner ear.

"How far do we have to go to reach the next power signal?" Jake's nano-pod asked.

That was when she felt a slight increase in the available power, which seamed to coincide with an increase in lift from the wing systems. This caused Mary to begin to worry about her mental state. At which point, Jake's nano-pod continued.

"I've encased your wing's leading edges with a low velocity lift enhancement," Jake's nano-pod said. "And I'm back feeding the power circuits connected to the deicer systems with every scrap of solar power hitting the wing surface. But I need to know if that will be enough for you to reach the next power signal?"

Meanwhile in the passenger cabin, one of the flight technicians was trying to calm down the frantic passengers and get them to return to their seats. When one of the passengers suddenly struck her a brutal blow. As he proceeded to claim responsibility for the blast that had robbed them of power.

"Har!" he said as the side of her head hit the hatch cover behind her so hard that her skull split open, spattering blood and gore all over his bib-front overpants. Then he pressed the intercom talk switch.

"We pulled the plug on your obscene energy systems," he announced. "You have no choice but to bring this craft down where we tell you to. Or there won't be anybody to save any of us from the sharks."

As he said this, he heard a loud tearing sound behind him. He turned his head to see that one of those accursed outworlders had tried to stand up, without first unstrapping his safety harness. Then he realized the fact that the outworlder had actually succeeded in standing up. The ripping sound he had heard had been the sound of Jake's harness being shredded as his nanite reinforced body tore through it. That was however the very last thought that ever went through his brain. Before he suffered the same fate as the flight technician. When Jake's fist passed clean through the top half of his scull.

"Alien Scum!" the woman who had accompanied the dead man screeched.

She pulled a high energy sonic disruptor from her handbag and began to point it at Jake. Even as she pressed the activation button however, Jess's unopened pocket spool of local tender struck the weapon, cracking the emitter array.

Unable to flow though the emitter, the power feedback surged through her body. The charred remains of her arm broke off the rest of her corpse, as it fell to the floor.

"Anyone else want to follow their example?" Jake challenged the other passengers. Then he passed the bad news about the flight attendant on to Mary.

"Poor girl never had a chance," Jake's nano-pod said. "But he sure didn't expect my reaction. He will never make such a mistake again."

It was a good thing Mary could fly the plane by touch. Because her eyes were full of tears as she forced herself to remain in control.

"I've reassessed our glidepath," she said. "It looks like we will reach the coastal power signal. While we're still about a hundred feet above the waves."

Sam looked at the melted remains of Jess's pocket spool.

"That weird," he said. "That doesn't look like there was any metal in that wire."

"That's a good observation Sam," Jess replied. "You see the wire's made out of a recyclable data storage medium. The value of a spool is recorded when it's activated. Each piece retains the serial identification of the roll it came from, until it's eventually melted down to become part of a new spool" Jess glanced at the semiliquid remains of his personal expense spool. "Or perhaps just to ruin a carpet."

About this time one of the other passengers wandered over to the smoldering ruin of the woman's body.

"Such a waste!" said the man, who was wearing a service uniform.

He shook his head and then knelt to offer a prayer of lamentation over the tragic remains. Suddenly the man was holding the power pack from the woman's weapon in one hand, as he jammed something else from his pocket into it. Sam realized what the man was doing too late to stop him.

He only had enough time to toss a device, that Sandra had supplied him with, at the man. The device detected the blast as it began to erupt from the ruined power pack and deployed it's short term containment force field around it. When the containment field collapsed, all that was left of the man were a few hot ashes. There was also a large hole in the floor but fortunately there was a cargo hold below the passenger deck. So the hole didn't affect the aircraft's flight characteristics.

***

The 'Military Operations Commander' did not look happy as he listened to one account of the incident after another. Commander Wilfred Burlson's private office at Capital city was a small austere room. With little in the way of furnishings, aside from a desk and a few unpadded chairs. Eventually he sent for Jake, Jess and Sam.

"This is all highly irregular," the commander said once they were seated. "I'm not quite sure whether I should give you medals. Or have you all summarily shot." He paused for dramatic effect before continuing. "Lucky for you, the pilot speaks highly of you." He flipped open a box on his desk. From which he took a pocket spool. "The financial record system verified that your spool was still full." He tossed a new spool to Jess. "So we are able to issue you a full replacement spool. I've even decided to wave the usual processing fee. You are all free to go."

"Thank you sir!" said Jake with a slight nod of his head.

Then he proceeded to lead his team outside. When they left the building they found Mary waiting for them at the curb. She looked relieved to see them.

"I'm officially on leave now boys," Mary said. "I can show you the sights of this town if you like."

"To tell you the truth Mary," Jake replied. "I think I'd rather not. I think we should start making our way northwards now. Are you still planning on showing us the way?" Mary's expression brightened considerably.

"Yes I was hoping you still wanted me to," she said.

Jake gave her an affectionate and somewhat playful hug.

"Of course we do Mary," he said. "But I think we do need to figure out which way to go. If you don't mind, I think I've had my fill of air travel for today. But I'm not sure if we should take a riverboat upstream or perhaps ride a train. What would you recommend Mary?"

"Well for starters," she replied, "I think we should keep our options open on some of this. And while it's possible to take a riverboat all the way to Prime Miller's estate. The train is faster and the lower Midway river just isn't very interesting. So I'd recommend we take the train to Laketown. Then perhaps we should take a boat from there."

"Yeah that sounds just about right to me," Jake agreed with the idea. "I walked past a train schedule posted back at the airport. If it was up to date, then the next train leaves in just under two hours. I'm also thinking that 'that'," Jake pointed at an entrance to a small park entrance gate located on the other side of the street. "Is the same park I saw from the observation deck as we approached the airport. You know, the long skinny one that sits between the city center and the train station. Seems to me that I saw a nice foot path cutting across from what must be this gateway. To one like it near the train station. I'm thinking it would make a pleasant walk and shouldn't take more than an hour or so. Shall we?"

Mary looked up at him with a puzzled expression.

"What? Do you mean leave from here without stopping at the hotel to pick up our luggage?" she asked.

"Exactly," Jake confirmed. "I'm thinking that we could probably arrange for the luggage to be forwarded to David Miller's estate. It might even get there sooner than we do. Surely there's nothing in the luggage we can't just as easily replace along the way?" As he said this he tossed his pocket spool up with a twirl, easily catching it and putting the spool away with exaggerated flourish. Then with a lustful look up then down Mary's body Jake added, "Certainly not anything that you'll find much use for on the private car I'll be getting for us."

As he said this he turned and stepped back in between Jess and Sam. Then placing his arms on their shoulders, he conspired with them in a voice just loud enough for Mary to hear.

"Now tell me boys," he inquired. "Do you think there any chance at all, that she is going to actually need anything she's got in her luggage? I'm talking about while she's on the train with us?"

Mary blushed.

"All right now that I think about it," she quickly interjected. "I probably won't actually need a change in 'clothes' until we reach Laketown. But if we're going to get to the station with enough time for them to add a private car to the train, we better get started."

Then she led the way across the street and on into the park.

"I could be wrong," Jess said a few minutes later. "But I think this is the first time we've been totally off camera since we got off the plane."

"Well I'm not detecting any surveillance here either Jess," Sam agreed. "But I wouldn't be too sure of it."

"No, me neither," Jake interrupted. "But Jess's networking nanites are even better at spotting such things than those nice toys Sandra gave you Sam. Besides, mine are top notch and I don't sense anything either."

"Which reminds me," Jess said. "Sam, back on the airplane when you tossed a containment pack at that service man just before he exploded that power pack. How did you know? I'm still not sure what he jammed into it to turn it into a bomb but somehow you saw it coming?"

"Well actually I didn't even know the power pack 'could' explode like that," Sam admitted. "But I saw in his eyes, that he was about to embrace death and that he wanted to take us with him. So I figured I better toss a lid on whatever he was doing."

Mary shook her head.

"Well I don't think I'll ever understand how you figured that out in time Sam," Mary said. "But I'm sure glad you did. That blast could have torn the aircraft in half."

"I knew I wanted you on my core team Sam," Jake joked. "I just used to think it was for your ability to make good soup out of anything."

The train had barely left the station when Mary felt six hands unfastening her clothing.

"Don't worry Mary we'll be gentle," Sam's voice reassured her.

"Of course..." Jake pretended to dispute. "Ensuring a really gentle hard night's work takes team work."

"I think you should know, Jake has a really good team," Jess whispered in her ear.

Eventually, they mutually decided it was time to think about eating some food. Mary slowly drew a line with her finger from just above Jake's groin, up an indirect path to his chin.

"I knew I'd want my luggage," she lamented. "I'd like to eat in the dining car. But I really dislike wearing my uniform while on leave."

"So tell me," Jake replied as he moved just enough to foil Mary's playful attempt to tap the end of his nose. "If you did have your trunk. What would you wear?"

Mary looked deeply into his eyes for a few seconds.

"You mean, so you can buy me some?" she asked. "The only thing they're going to have on the train will look a lot like a service uniform. What I would have worn was a simple country dress."

What?" Jake shot back. "Do you mean like those dresses with the built in bib's like we saw on the plane?"

"Well sort of," She replied. "Only with brighter colors and made from better cloth."

"I don't see this as a problem," Jake explained. "Sam really is an excellent tailor. I'm betting that I've got all the tools he needs, to turn a curtain and perhaps a pillow case or two, into something like what you describe."

"Keep your tools boss," Sam interrupted. "I carry my own."

Sam then pulled a small device out of a sleeve pocket. As he fiddled with it, one of the privacy curtains was enveloped in a cloud of faintly flickering lights. As she watched, the very fabric of the curtain appeared to unravel. It's threads seamed to weave themselves back into some other kind of fabric. Before her eyes, Mary watched a country dress slowly emerge.

It was similar to some of the finest dresses in her trunk. Yet it appeared to be better made, from finer fabrics. Mary couldn't wait to try it on. When she did she decided that it fit like it had been custom made for her. Which of course it had. There was only one thing missing.

"This is great Sam," she said. "I don't suppose you could include a matching pair of panties?"

"That might be a problem," Jake interjected with a grin. "You see, Sam doesn't usually make clothes that aren't intended to be seen."

"Course, with a name like McNeil," Jess said with a wink. "I might just get Sam to whip up a traditional Scottish dress kilt and show you how it's supposed to be worn."

"Not if you want to stay employed Jess," Jake interrupted. "While I think we could stand on the fact that such a kilt is traditionally only worn by the men, it really wouldn't be fair to Sam. You are the one who got him to promise not to wear one of his skirts."

"Wait a minute!" Mary said with a giggle. "Do you mean to tell me that your family's traditional men's dress uniform includes a skirt of some kind?"

"It's actually an old military tradition," Jess asserted. "Some say it's based on the idea, that it made it difficult to catch a Scottish soldier with his pants down. If he can simply squat to answer a call of nature."

The dining car wasn't crowded. There were only 7 men and 9 woman there. All sixteen of them were wearing traditional bib-front style clothing. Mostly of the same utility design they had seen on the plane. Though two of the women and one of the men were wearing dress versions of the traditional garments. One of the fancy dressed woman was sitting by herself.

"Outworlder trash," she muttered the moment she saw them." Then she pointedly stared through Mary as if she wasn't there.

They sat down at an empty table. Mary took great care to insure that the skirt segment of her dress didn't ride up as she sat down. The majority of the other passengers were politely pretending not to stare at them. The atmosphere in the dining car was tensely quiet. There wasn't much conversation. After a few minutes the other lady in fancy dress, a pretty blond with shoulder length hair, spoke loudly to her companion, the well dressed man.

"I'm sorry father," she said. "But I think we're all just being rude!" With that the young lady stood up and walked over to their table. "Hello, I'd like to apologize for the way we've been treating you. The fact that 'some' of us may dislike anyone from the Outworlds or with certain not so traditional lifestyles, is no reason for the rest of us to be so rude.

My name is Sue..." She curtsied and continued. "My father and I have one of the larger tables." As she talked, Sam noticed that her eyes were a delightful shade of green. "If you'd like a bit of civilized conversation, your all welcome to sit with us."

"Why thank you Sue," Mary responded. "My name is Mary. My friends are Jake, Jess and Sam. I thank you for your offer. But I wouldn't want to put you out..."

"Nonsense!" Sue said. "It's no trouble at all. Please do come on over."

"I too, thank you for your kind offer," Jake decided for them. "If you are quite sure it's no trouble, I think we shall take you up on it."

With that said, the four of them got up and followed Sue to her table, where they were soon seated. The well dressed gentleman was an old bald man with a kindly manor and eyes as black as coal.

"This is my father, Donald Elderberry," Sue introduced him. "Dad the ladies name is Mary and the gentlemen here are Jake, Jess and Sam."

"Well now," said the old man. "Your certainly welcome to my table. We've already had an appetizer and were getting ready to order a main course. I was trying to convince my daughter that we should go with the roast duck. But she said we couldn't possibly eat the whole thing... Do you perchance like duck?"

At this point the other well dressed woman was making a few rude noises as she stomped out of the dining car.

"Harrumph! What is that smell anyway?, she complained. "Whew! I'm leaving to get some air!"

About half of the plainly dressed country folk followed her out. When they had all left the room, the sound of conversation began to quietly fill the room. Before long they were all enjoying themselves.

"Getting back to that roast duck," the old man was saying.

when the attendant interrupted him to bring Jake another spiced rum beverage and to slide another stein of beer over to Jess. Sam picked up the bottle of sparkling wine, which he was sharing with Donald and his daughter.

"Well now, I'm rather fond of duck soup," Sam commented, as he topped off his glass. "But roast duck can be good. Especially when it's served with the right side dishes. Tell me Donald, would it go better with rice or potatoes?"

The older man smiled as he replied.

"The rice, so of course that's not on the menu," he explained. "But they do a good job with the potatoes and gravy. I'm not really sure which green vegetables they have in the pot today. What I can tell you is they will prepare them well."

"One thing is for sure, we are going to eat something," Jess spoke up. "I'll tell you what If you'll order a family style dinner for all of us, I'll get Jake here to spring for it."

There was a slight edge in the Old man's voice when he replied.

"You are my guest," he protested. "I wouldn't have offered the duck if I didn't intend to pay for it."

"Very well," Jess said as he realized his mistake. "So long as it's our treat next time." The old man's face brightened as he realized Jess hadn't meant the insult.

"Agreed!" he said cheerfully. "I'm not sure when that will be. But yes next time I will allow you the honor."

Chapter 22 Long Distance Transport

Questor's shuttle was waiting when the guild's most reliable long range tradeship, 'Resonance' arrived at the rendezvous point. The outer appearance of the huge ship was decidedly old style. In spite of being equipped with state of the art gravitational optimizers, it's passenger decks consisted of a series of ring shaped sections that used centrifugal force to simulate gravity.

There were thirty rings in all. Each turning in the opposite direction from the one next to it. In the center was a core, containing the primary cargo holds and the ships internal power and drive control, systems. The central core didn't turn at all. Each ring section had an inner hub that appeared to slide across the surface of the central core. In fact it didn't quite touch it but was suspended nearly 0.1 subarm above it by a powerful magnetic field.

Beside each ring hub there was a smaller ring section that could match speed and dock with the hub of the passenger section. Then it would slow to a stop and dock with the stationary ring hub section of the core. These stationary ring hubs also served as mount points for the superstructure connecting the core with it's three primary transduction thruster systems. That superstructure also provided three docking cradles for vessels too large for the internal docking and shuttle bays.

These cradles sat in the middle between the thrusters. The Resonance was also equipped with a transit pod system, that doubled as an escape pod system. Each of these could travel to one of many pod stations located on every level inside a ring section via a network of high speed transit tubes, Each pod could also be launched into the void where it could use the magnetic and other energy fields that the Resonance generated to navigate it's way to an entry port on the central core or another ring section.

Questor couldn't be sure of the exact moment that the Resonance would arrive. He knew that at least one galactic class guild transport ship would check for passenger and/or cargo pods every cycle of real time. The perimeter of each of the various rendezvous point zones was clearly marked by guild marker beacons. Questor carefully positioned his shuttle in a selective transfer zone. Indicating not only the region of his intended destination but also his preference for transport on the Resonance itself. All by his shuttles exact position within the designated area. Thus any other guild transport should silently pass by without collecting his shuttle. Though it would note his presence and a message that somebody was waiting would eventually reach the Resonance.

Questor didn't think the wait would be too long before he would suddenly feel the inertial damper and manipulator fields begin the process of abruptly changing his relative velocity to something approximating light speed. In fact, he had been waiting less than 2 subcycles when he was startled by a much more impressive event.

There was a distortion of a section of the void of empty space. For a brief moment, space itself appeared to quiver, then suddenly a massive object could be seen rapidly decelerating. It was in fact the Resonance itself. Questor shook his head at the massive expenditure of energy that was required to bring the huge vessel to a virtual stop. Then he sent a signal requesting docking instructions. 0.03 subcyclets later the Resonance signaled that he should stand down and let the pod manipulation system relocate his shuttle, into a VIP docking bay.

The crew of the Resonance have a culture all their own. They live and die by their music. Thanks to their questor, who is called 'The Captain' by his crew, most questors and even the majority of free spacers. Each and every member of 'The Captain's' crew has been at least musically augmented. Thanks to this modified variant of category 0 medical augmentation nanites, they can each internally play back any kind of music. So no mater what the job, they can each have their background music of choice. They all have access to the ship's vast library of music. Most also play a musical instrument. Many sing.

They fill the long hours of their travels with concerts. Performing for each others pleasure. The Captain makes sure it's a good life for his crew. Most of whom choose to spend their entire lives aboard the Resonance. Somehow the Captain manages to keep all of them sufficiently augmented, that they can use an advanced hypersleep system which enables them to repetitively wake and return to a near stasis state. As often as they like, without risking stasis saturation.

The Captain makes sure that apart from himself, every member of the crew can choose to skip as much of the subjective time as they like. Except of course, during the first, and last subjective year of any flight. Crew also have the option of cashing out at any port of call. Very few ever do so. What's more, most of those who do, sign back on the next time the Resonance passes through.

Nonetheless, the majority of them choose to wake often and long enough, that even the nearly two thousand galactic standard year average life span their 'musical augmentation' gives them. Is rarely long enough to see more than a few dozen destination star systems.

The Captain loves his crew as though they were his own children. It pains him that their lives are so short but he consoles himself with knowing that the life he provides them with is both longer than any of them would otherwise live and happy enough that few of them would exchange it for anything.

The Captain provides them with a template for the reality of shipboard life. Most of their music is composed in imitation of an ancient music. That nobody who lives, has ever had the opportunity to hear. No one knows what the music of the ancient race that guild personnel refer to as 'the Kindred' actually sounded like. No record of their compositions has ever been found. Though an examination of certain relics had shown that they made musical instruments. There were even a few fossilized remains of hand crafted wooden stringed instruments. What little is known of their culture suggests they revered trees. Thus the fact that they would choose to use primitive methods to carve musical instruments from some form of wood, suggests that music was important to them. Since finding the origins of the Kindred was a favorite quest of their captain, the crew decided long ago to model their daily lives in tribute to their ancient fellow music lovers.

The crew have long preferred music made with the kinds of instruments the Kindred where known to have used. Occasionally they discovered something that inspired their imagination of what life must have been like, for a music loving spacefaring race that tended to pull up stakes and depart any star system. As soon as any native culture developed enough technology, to begin to doubt the existence of magic.

The crew would apply this inspiration to the composition of new music. Which they would play in tribute. The crew formed a club of sorts through which those who chose to do this could do so in an organized way. Since it's members were resolved to model certain aspects of their lives as 'near' as possible to that of 'the Kindred' they decided a fitting name for themselves would be the 'Nearkin'.

On one of his earlier visits to the Resonance, Questor had used something from the Captain's collection of reconstructed stringed instruments to play a lilting tune that sounded both sad, and sweet. Then they asked where he had learned to play like that.

"Oh, that!" the Questor said with a shrug. "According to the Scotsman who taught it to me, it's just an old nameless Irish tune."

In his wildest dreams, Questor couldn't have imagined the sweeping changes that comment was to have on the cultural development of the Nearkin. They had access to the Captain's guild files on Questor's adopted homeworld. By the time Questor had disembarked from the Resonance, a study had been made of the cultural and musical histories of both Ireland, and Scotland. A theory had quickly developed that the still remembered folklore of a fair folk found among both lands was very like what might remain for a while, among a local people, among whom the Kindred once walked.

When Questor returned to the Resonance 500 Galactic Standard years of real time later, the Nearkin had spent generations of subjective time reforming themselves into something inspired by the folklore of these lands. They had even adopted a standard of male dress attire that included a variant on the classic Scottish kilt. Most of them had also adopted new family names loosely based on various ancient clan names.

That, he mused as he stepped into the airlock, was another 300 years of real time ago. When the door opened he soon noticed that it looked like the shift in Nearkin culture, he had inadvertently started, was going to last for quite a while. The artificial landscape was enough evidence of that. The other side of the airlock was a large open area within the ring segment. It was designed to appear as a well manicured courtyard surrounded by ancient stone walls.

A wide path lead to an inner structure designed to look like a castle, complete with moat and drawbridge. The sentries on duty at the drawbridge were armed with ceremonial, but quite functional crossbows. Their uniforms, he noted still included kilts. Questor instructed the nano-morphic material of his transparent space suit to transform into a similar uniform. Except that they would see his as the uniform of a command grade officer.

As he walked toward the drawbridge, Questor's attention was split between enjoying the scenic beauty of the tree filled courtyard and the holographic sky. The air of the former smelled natural. Questor's eyes however, were drawn to those portions of the latter as were visible between the superimposed images of the framework that appeared to be a parody of the rings of the Resonance made of stone and styled as a greater castle.

The perspective view of the overhead holographic image was distorted by a deliberate illusion that there was a blue sky surrounding the rings. Where the core section of the Resonance should have been was an oversized illusion of empty air. Between the surreal images of the stone rings were accurately placed representations of the same local star systems, that would appear on the view screens of Resonance's control room. As he approached the entrance to the inner city Questor was pleased to notice that the two guards were actively engaging in a marksmanship contest.

The massive drawbridge was an impressive 25 arms wide and thirty arms long. There was a straw target mounted, on the inside of either railing, about half way across the bridge. As he watched the guards marched together back and forth between the targets. When they reached one of targets, they would each take a turn surveiling the vicinity while the other retrieved their target bolt. Then they would take turns shooting their bolts at the target on the other side. Their game, he was sure, would be interrupted whenever someone sought to cross the bridge.

"Who goes there?" the nearest guard challenged, in a pleasant friendly voice.

Questor nodded at them and answered somewhat cryptically.

"Tis I, a passenger and friend of the Captain," he said.

It didn't really matter what he said however. Questor knew that even though there wasn't any visible sign of the technology involved. The computer would have identified him to them already. The challenge was strictly ceremonial. Besides which they certainly wouldn't expect a Questor to actually give them a name. Nonetheless he had politely waited for the guard to respond before he continued to cross the bridge.

"You may pass Questor," was the response.

When he passed into the castles inner courtyard, a man smartly dressed in an officers kilt, stepped up to him.

"Greetings Questor, the Captain bid me to welcome you," he said. "My name is Michael McCline. And I'm to inform you that I'm at your disposal sir. May I inquire if there is anything you desire before the Captain meets with you?"

"No Mr McCline," Questor said with a warm smile. "I thank you. But I'm all set."

"Then I'm to tell you that he awaits you upon the command deck," Michael replied. "If you'll follow me."

Then the man quickly lead Questor through a doorway and down a corridor. When Michael stopped, he gestured towards a recession in the wall that consisted of the entrances to a pair of stone staircases, one leading up and the other down. Between them there was an open elevator door. Questor grinned and proceeded to walk up the stairs.

When Questor stepped out onto the upper deck he noticed, that here, the panoramic view was broken by several large view screens. He was amused, though not surprised, at the set of three wooden spoked wheels. At which the three ships helmsmen stood at the ready, in case the order should be given to shift the ships position along any one of the three axis they controlled.

The Captain, he also noticed, wasn't sitting in his command chair. Which was located in the center of the inner raised circular platform. That it shared with the the three wheels. He was instead slowly pacing a circle around it. pausing for a moment to look at each helmsman's data screen. The Captain was of course aware of his presence but Questor knew he wouldn't appear to notice him until he approached the outer platform. Which formed a ring one step up from the upper deck itself and one step down from the command platform.

Questor waited for Michael to catch up. Then he waited for him to catch his breath. During which time the Captain circled the command chair twice. Eventually Questor took a step towards the outer platform. Immediately Michael pulled a small flute like instrument from his pocket. With which he produced a distinctive signal call. At which point the Captain snapped to attention and spun on his heels to face Questor.

"Welcome aboard old friend," the Captain said. "If you'd like to have a seat." He gestured to one of the two chairs located on either side of his command chair. "We're about to get under way." Then without waiting for an answer, he focused his attention on Michael. "Mr McCline will join us."

The Captain waited until they were both seated to begin smoothly barking orders to all three of his helmsmen. There was no sensation of movement. The changes in the holographic sky were the only obvious clues that the ship was now pointed outwards, away from the local star system. Yet there wasn't any missing the tremendous thrust produced when he ordered the massive transduction thrusters to fifty percent power.

The inertial compensators were, of course up to the task of canceling out the internal reaction that would otherwise have reduced everyone on board to jelly like stains on the sternward walls. Though as the opposing forces canceled each other out, a slight nearly subliminal vibration could be felt.

Abruptly the Captain sat down in his command chair, which he rotated slightly towards Michael.

"Activate your control console Mr McCline," he commanded. "Monitor our distance from the local star, and our relative velocity. As soon as both values attain at least 110% of their minimum safe threshold values, engage the stardrive. The command is yours."

Then the Captain rotated his chair so that it faced toward Questor's seat. Which like Michael's, was fixed at a 45 degree angle towards the Captains chair.

"Tell me Questor, what brings you aboard for such a long voyage?" the Captain finally asked.

"Well now, truth be told," Questor replied. "There's more than one answer to that question. It's a fact that I've missed the music and hospitality of your gatherings old friend."

"Aye, I suppose that's true enough," the Captain replied. "But what moved you to find the time for it, now?"

Questor worded his response carefully.

"I've some pressing matters to discuss with the Professor," Questor explained. "But we'll have plenty of time to talk of that later.

I see the trend I started among your Nearkin is still running strong. I do hope you've forgiven me, I really didn't intend to meddle."

"Trend, you say?" the Captain fairly bellowed. "Tis no passing fad you started." Then he continued. in a more conversational voice. "Nay tis a veritable cultural revolution."

The captain fell silent. He stared at Questor as if he was of two minds about what to say next.

"That's why I'm trying to apologize old friend," Questor interrupted the Captain's musing. "What puzzles me is that if they were going to base their pseudo culture on an old bit of Keltic music. Why did they standardize on an English speaking parody of it?

I know your ships records on my adopted worlds Keltic people are more accurate than that."

"Pardon me," Michael interjected. "But as a Nearkin, I'd like to answer that." Then to the Captain he added, "Permission to speak freely sir?"

There was a bit of laughter in the Captains voice, when he replied.

"Seems to me that you already are speaking freely Mr McCline," he said. "But if you keep it short and can do so without neglecting your duty, I'll allow it."

"Thank you sir!" Michael began. "Yes we Nearkin are quite aware that we based our cultural focus on an inexact parody of the Keltic people of your adopted planet Questor. But meaning no disrespect, we feel that the culture of these Kelts are at best just a parody of nearly forgotten traditions that might, just might, have been based on an ancient contact with the Kindred.

There was something in the music you attributed to them, that had a flavor of a hauntingly bittersweet sadness, that actually touched our hearts. The rest of it we put together in a whimsical fashion until we were happy with the results. I'd say more but we are approaching 110 percent of the minimum safe threshold velocity. So I must now focus all my attention on my command duties."

"Well there you have it," the Captain assumed command of the conversation. "They know it's not an accurate emulation of Keltic culture. But they are happy with it. And that is why there is nothing to forgive. My Nearkin are, by and large, happier and I dare say randier than they've ever been. Their music has, in my opinion, improved. They rejoice in their shipboard life so much that I spend much less time alone. In fact I've had to institute some procedural minimums for hypersleep time to keep them from spending their whole lives without ever seeing a real world. Which reminds me. How is Jess doing now? He must be near 400 years old now. Is he happy with the choice he made?"

"I was wondering how long it would take you to ask," Questor said with a warm smile. "When I left Hillside he was doing fine. He has become a prized member of my team. In fact he is helping me show the ropes to my new apprentice. But I'm afraid he's already up to 500 years of subjective age. He insisted on taking a few long range journeys with me. And yes he still appears to be happy with the life he chose."

"Good enough!" the Captain said. "When next you see him, give him my warmest regards. Tell him I'm happy for him."

"That I will, old friend," Questor replied softly. "He will be glad to know that you still remember him."

"Well of course I remember him," the Captain asserted. "I dearly wish he could have been happy here. But no matter how much my Nearkin might dispute the issue, life aboard the Resonance just isn't for everybody. That's why I let you have him."

Just then Michael announced that the initialization of the stardrive was about to commence.

"Well the Resonance appears to be in good hands," the Captain continued. "So why don't we retire to my quarters for a bit of private conversation."

Michael, who had actually been trying not to listen, blushed but said nothing.

As Questor followed the Captain towards the stairs, they heard Michael give the order. "Engage temporal inverter." There was no sensation of change. Not even a Questor could detect the difference in the temporal flow. Unless of course, he had a view of the starfield. As the Resonance had approached the minimum threshold velocity, temporal dilation caused the appearance of the stars to change. Those on either side of their course had gradually become slightly elongated blurs, instead of crisp points of light. Those forward of their course had brightened. While those behind them had dimmed. When the temporal dilation was inverted, everything behind them vanished completely. For even the flow of light itself was affected and the photons became effectively motionless.

They could still see forward because they overtook the photons in front of them. Neither the Captain nor Questor paid the visual phenomenon in the overhead display more than a passing glance.

The Captain's quarters consisted of a small bed chamber connected by a hall like galley to a personal shower stall and then to a toilet stall. One wall of the galley was mostly filled with an open archway to the only other room, a large study. The walls of which were lined with shelves of ancient books and scrolls. The study had 4 chairs, each with a small table on either side. The chairs were positioned facing inwards in a small circle. The Captain had dropped into the only one to show any sign of wear and he gestured towards the other chairs.

"Please sit and tell me what's on your mind old friend," he instructed.

Questor sat down in the chair directly across from the Captain.

"I was recently ambushed by five suicidal cybernoids," he began. "Who nearly got me in a coordinated overload blast from their microfusion reactors."

Silence briefly prevailed.

"You'll have to be a bit more careful then, won't you?" The Captain finally suggested. "But what makes that important enough for you to make the journey to the University?"

"Well for starters," Questor explained. "They were emanating disruptive energy fields. All of which were on wavelengths specifically chosen to disrupt guild nanites. Especially my nanites."

The Captain was quick to realize what the fact that the cybernoids knew anything about Questor's operating frequency meant.

"That is disturbing news my friend," the Captain replied. "If they have gained that much detailed knowledge of our systems, then they are once again a serious threat. I'm not at all sure what even the Professor can do about it. Though perhaps his extensive data base can identify the source of the security breach." The Captain paused for a moment. "Seems to me you implied there were at least two reasons to see the Professor?"

"Yes and I think you'll find the other reason interesting," Questor began. "But first let me explain that there is a delightfully unusual world that is only marginally suited to the human colonization. That has surprisingly begun to compliment the local ecology. They have established a delicate balance that I really don't want to see trampled underfoot. Can I count on you in that regard Captain?"

"Well now," the Captain replied. "I'm surprised you need to ask that. You know I like to see mankind working in harmony with nature. I certainly wouldn't, as you say, trample such a place underfoot. Why do you ask?"

"I know you wouldn't," Questor assured him. "But I'm concerned what others will do if this gets out."

Then without saying another word Questor showed the Captain the crystal disk he had acquired on XenDar. Nearly 3 cyclets passed before the Captain spoke.

"A new site?" he asked. Questor just nodded. So the Captain continued. "I gather the location isn't generally known and that you'd prefer that the Resonance didn't make any special trips there."

"That's why I need your word Captain," Questor advised. "But I warn you, once you've seen my site data, you won't want to keep it."

Questor had taken many long journeys over the aeons of his long life. Several of which had taken significantly more subjective time than this one. On this trip the Captain himself was always there and Questor enjoyed his company. Though such was the solitary life style of a Questor that it was often ten overcycles before either of them would think to seek out the others company. This trip also provided regular, though brief, periods of entertainment and company from the Nearkin. Yet somehow the time weighed on his mind more than usual.

He felt a need to hurry back to XenDar. There was something waiting for him deep within the pit in the floor of the fifth chamber of the cave. Something that wouldn't or couldn't wait very long. Besides that, Questor felt he was neglecting his new apprentice. Even though he knew he'd left him in good hands. He felt like he should be there.

The Resonance was larger than some inhabited planets. Thus it had room enough for the 3 billion Nearkin on board who cycled in and out of hypersleep. The Captain allowed a maximum of one thousand of them to awaken for the small gatherings he scheduled once every thousand subjective years. He permitted them to spend up to 2 years of the one to two thousand year lifespan his muscly enhanced medical augmentation nanites gave them. Before requiring them to return to hypersleep. Only a hundred of them would be allowed to take part in the next gathering to provide some continuity to their musical creativity.

Once each voyage, approximately at the halfway point, there would be a festival the Nearkin called an 'awakening'. When all of them were allowed to wake and spend ten whole years in an orgy of concerts, gatherings and general merry making. There wasn't any work they needed to do except on rare occasions when some passenger had arranged to be released from stasis. So that he or she, could take part in the festivities. In which case a few of the crew would be required to spend some of their time looking after the needs and wants of the awakened guest.

That was a rare occurrence, because most passengers didn't care to know about the shipboard festivities of the crew. They just wanted to wake up where they were going. Those few who were curious enough to consider it, were strongly discouraged by the terms of the waiver they'd have to endorse releasing the Resonance, it's captain, it's crew and the guild itself from any liability arising from the potential consequences of a rare condition called Stasis Saturation Syndrome. Which occurs once in about one billion stasis sessions with guild stasis chambers. One in a hundred thousand, with the next best type of stasis technology.

The problem with Stasis Saturation was of course that it was impossible for an affected individual to survive a return to stasis. This wasn't too bad a fate when it happened in a solar system with an inhabited world. At the halfway point in a journey in an inverted time dilation starship however, it meant expending the rest of ones life before the ship reached it's next destination. True, it's likely that a few of the Nearkin would volunteer to stay awake to ensure that the remainder of that life would be as pleasant as possible.

The problem would be preventable if the passengers could use the same kind of hypersleep chamber as the crew does. Unfortunately the hypersleep process depended on the presence of a special kind of medical nanite that even the Captain couldn't supply to everybody. In fact, his impressive ability to manage the oversight of those who do have them, was already stressed to it's limit at awakenings and during the first and last year of each voyage when all the Nearkin were roused at once.

So it wasn't something he could routinely do for all his passengers. Unfortunately, once a passenger was already affected by Stasis Saturation, the use of a hypersleep chamber wouldn't work. That left just one possibility of an affected individual surviving the journey. The Captain would feel obligated to try but he could not guarantee that the nanites would find the individual involved to be an acceptable candidate to host a nanosymbiont.

Questor had come aboard the Resonance at a rendezvous point. This wasn't considered a destination. It was a mechanism in place for short range guild ships to hitch a ride on a long range transport such as the Resonance. By having known points in space and time where such a transport would spend as little real time as possible to check for incoming passengers. Thus when the halfway point awakening occurred, most of the Nearkin were surprised that he was there. Even though he neither required nor requested it, a full dozen of the Nearkin immediately insisted on tending to his needs during their 10 year wake cycle. Of course there weren't any left among them who had actually been there the last time he had traveled aboard the Resonance. Though of course, they had all read about him.

He was after all the one who had brought them that scrap of music that had so inspired Nearkin culture. It wasn't long before the Nearkin had badgered him into playing a variety of music on various stringed instruments on a regular basis. For the next ten years he played and sung both Irish, and Scottish tunes at least once every 5 overcycles. Questor didn't mind. The sad and sweet slow tunes combined with the fast paced ones, somehow helped to ease his mind. This was aside from the fact that, during the ten year awakening, the female Nearkin did their best to make him aware that there wasn't a single moment when one or more of them weren't willing to grant him sexual favors.

At first he had tried to at least stop them during his musical performances. Until they prevailed upon the Captain to explain that the Nearkin would prefer to see how well he could play while one or more of their best nymphs tried to distract him. At which point he surrendered. From that point on, as soon as he would begin to play or sing a tune, one or more of the girls would lift his kilt and begin a performance of their own. When he wasn't busy making music, the ladies were even more aggressive.

As much as he enjoyed their attentions, by the end of the ten year festival he was beginning to tire of it. Questor found himself starting to look forward to the long near solitude of the rest of the journey.

Then the day came when the Captain solemnly announced that the 10 year awakening was coming to it's end. There was much sorrow in his voice. Questor knew, as did every Nearkin aboard, that the Captain's sorrow went far deeper than the end of the festivities. It also went deeper than the long loneliness that he would endure while the Nearkin slept.

For this was the time when he would have to watch those few of his beloved Nearkin who's lifeforce was too faded, to endure another hypersleep session, age and die. It was a pain he couldn't avoid. He would stand strong for them. He would give them what comfort he could. Each of the fading ones had known for certain at the beginning of the 10 year awakening that it would be their last. They had said goodbye to and celebrated their life with, their friends. Each of them had been able to select two of those closest to them to stay awake. So that when the time finally arrived, they could bid them a final farewell. Most of them would start to show visible signs of a rapid aging process within another year. The strongest of them would pass away in less than another 10 years.

Then after the last of them had gone. After the last eulogy had been spoken. The Captain would preside in a final ceremony without words. There would however, be music. Each of those chosen close friends, would pick up a musical instrument. In recent times many of these were bagpipes. They would all play hauntingly sad melodies. While the Captain would slowly walk among them until he reached a great leaver. The music would fade and the Captain would pull the lever, consigning the ashes of the faded ones to the void between the stars. Then after standing in shared silent morning for full cyclet, the Captain would speak the only words that would be spoken by anyone onboard before the Nearkin mourners had all returned to hypersleep.

"We have celebrated the lives and mourned the death of the faded ones," he would say. "Now it is time to put away the sadness. To remember and honor them by living. Go, return to your hypersleep chambers. But before you lay within, resolve to wake with your hearts free from the burden of sorrow. Because, now that they can no longer live the life of happiness that they shared with us. We shall have to live it for them."

It wouldn't be until the last of the Nearkin were once again asleep that the Captain would give in to his own despair. Then he would wail with a sadness that few but another questor could hope to understand. The curse of being virtually immortal, is watching the ones you love grow old and die. Questor was no stranger to this sorrow but unlike the Captain, he usually only lost one loved one at a time. The Captain mourned them by the hundreds.

Indeed, this time there had been nearly one thousand of them. The Captain's nanites were so thoroughly integrated into the Resonance's control systems that the Captain's lament could be felt throughout the ship. Questor expected it to take several years before the Captain would be able to keep his promise to the departed ones and banish the sorrow from his own heart.

Chapter 23 Girls on the prowl

"I need to ask you something Cindy," Stephanie said as the elevator door opened to the portal chamber.

"About what?" Cindy asked as she stepped onto the elevator.

"About Jake," Stephanie replied as she also stepped inside. Then just before the door closed she gestured over her shoulder at the portal chamber behind them. "Now that we've reconnected the portal to Wildernest, I should probably give him a little special attention."

"And you mention this because?" Cindy prompted.

"Well you see," Stephanie continued. "I need to know if you want us to do it together or if you just want to watch?"

"Well I don't know," Cindy replied with a grin, as she selected the third floor. "Want to go for a run with me while I think about it?"

"Sure, Cindy," Stephanie agreed. "Where should we meet?"

"Meet?" Cindy challenged. "I'm talking right now, down the backyard trails, as we are."

The elevator door opened as she spoke. Cindy didn't wait for an answer to lead Stephanie out through the roof's screen room then up the back ramp.

"You know of course that we could get arrested for nudity on those trails," Stephanie informed Cindy as she palmed the identi-screen at the back gate.

Cindy snorted.

"First, they'd have to catch us," Cindy said. "Any Sister of Rebirth, who lets the local authorities catch her out here, deserves to be locked up."

That said, Cindy ran across the yard, waving at the helicopter pilot just before the wheels touched down with a slight bump. Then she disappeared down a hiking tail. Stephanie had followed suit. Except that while Cindy was waving at the somewhat flustered pilot. Stephanie did a two second hand stand with her legs split wide open, giving him a really good view. Then she chased after Cindy. The Pilot turned his seat to face his passenger as he opened the security partition.

"I'm awful sorry about that landing mam," he began to apologize.

"Can it fly boy!" Sandra interrupted. "I was looking out my window as we came down. And I saw a couple of strongly believable reasons why your attention just might have drifted a bit at the last second there." As she spoke, Sandra looked down at the pilot's crotch. Then she licked her lips seductively. "If that swelling is half as painful as it looks, you should let me administer a little first aid."

"Don't you think that hand stand was a little over the top?" Cindy asked with a chuckle as Stephanie caught up. "It's a good thing that the chopper was already so close to the ground."

"I wouldn't feel too bad for the guy though," Stephanie replied. "I saw Sandra looking out the window of that chopper. So I'm thinking she's probably busy solving the problem we caused right now."

The girls both laughed. Then Cindy suddenly stopped running and quietly stepped behind a tree that stood beside the trail. She hadn't had to say a thing to be sure that her fellow Sister of Rebirth, would also have noticed the sound of bicyclists coming the other way on the trail.

Stephanie had elected to crawl into the bushes on the other side of the trail. The girls stayed out of sight as three teen aged boys rode by.

"It's a good thing we spotted them before they saw us," Cindy said as they returned to the trail.

"Oh, I doubt they would have been offended at our lack of attire if we hadn't," Stephanie said with a grin.

"Probably not," Cindy agreed. "But they were a bit young for us don'cha think?"

"Not by Wildernest standards," Stephanie retorted. "But given the local laws about such things, the most they'd have gotten from me would have been a good peek at my tushy anyway you know."

"Maybe so," Cindy conceded. "But knowing how guy's like to brag, they'd soon have half the boys in the county prowling these woods, looking for us."

"Yeah," Stephanie agreed. "No doubt half of them would be hoping we might give them more than a free show too."

That was when Cindy turned on to a small side trail.

"Isn't this the path to your friend's camp?" Stephanie asked.

"I've never gone there this way myself," Cindy replied. "But I do think David's swimming hole is down this way."

"Do you plan to go swimming or something?" Stephanie inquired.

Cindy just smiled. The swimming hole wasn't empty when they got there. David was sitting under the waterfall.

"Come on I'll introduce you," Cindy said, just before slinging her shoulder bag onto one of the rocks and then diving in.

Stephanie opened her mouth to say something but Cindy was already in mid dive. So Stephanie shrugged, leaned her staff against the rocks and dove in after her. The sudden swelling in David's groin demonstrated that he saw the girls approaching. About half way to David's 'sitting rock' Cindy stopped. Then she looked Dave in the eyes and crooked her finger at him. He smiled and slipped off the rock and swam over to where the girls were standing in water just deep enough to cover their navels.

"Now that you can hear me Dave," Cindy spoke up. "I thought I'd introduce my friend, Stephanie."

Dave smiled, looking Stephanie in the eyes.

"I always wondered what your name was," he said. "It suits you."

Cindy frowned for a second.

"Have you two met before?" she asked.

"Maybe once or twice," Stephanie admitted.

"Your voice is as beautiful as I imagined it my dear," David gushed. "And it was four times by my count."

"Wait a minute," Cindy sputtered. "If you've seen each other four times already, why would you have had to imagine the sound of her voice?"

"Jump each other's bones, yes," Dave began.

"Speak to each other, no," Stephanie finished.

"It was five years ago, next month," Dave said.

"You know how much I like hiking Cindy," Stephanie explained. "Well the first time I saw him he was sunbathing beside the stream here."

"This was just before I rented the backhoe to dig out the swimming hole with," Dave interjected.

"That's right," Stephanie continued. "He was half asleep and hard as a rock, as I recall."

"Suddenly I woke up to the sight of a blond vision placing her finger on my lips as she lowered herself down on me." Dave finished.

"I've come back on the anniversary of that occasion every year since." Stephanie concluded.

"And in all that time you never spoke?" Cindy asked.

"Not a word," Dave confirmed. "So what brings you two beauties here today?"

"Don't ask me," Stephanie remarked. "Cindy wanted to go for a run in the woods. I just tagged along."

"Oh really," Dave admonished sarcastically. "So this is how you two usually dress for a run in the woods?"

"As often as not David," Cindy replied. "Why? is there something wrong with that?"

"Not from where I'm standing." Dave said as he pointedly stared at the girls tits.

"That's good," Stephanie said. "Because these are also our favorite exercise outfits and I'm wondering if you might like to sexercise with us."

"Alright," Cindy interrupted. "I'll confess, 'that' was my plan all along. But before we get down to the nitty-gritty. I wanted to ask how things turned out after Jake and I left?"

"Oh that," Dave replied. "Well it all worked out OK. I mean everybody else stayed through the end of the week. Though things slowed down a bit after you two left."

"You mean sexually?" Cindy prompted.

"Yeah, actually," Dave admitted. "That's not to say it all suddenly stopped or anything. But to tell you the truth, I think Arnie got uncomfortable with the fact that he actually liked watching Karen do me. I think he thought he'd been drugged or something. But that didn't stop him from telling the girls to make a show of wearing me out, just before they left that Sunday. But I haven't heard from him since."

"What about Suzy?" Cindy prompted.

"Yeah Suzy," Dave said with a smile. "Well she wasn't uncomfortable with any of it. I'm pretty sure Suzy just likes sex, with anybody."

"You got that right," Cindy confirmed. "But to tell you the truth, Jake had wanted me to invite her to join us. Because he was hoping you two might hook up or something. I mean he thought you were spending too much time alone. And we knew that Arnie would never be able to keep her to himself anyway."

"Well that part of the plan kind of worked I guess," Dave said. "At least she has been back up here every weekend since. Could we talk about that later? I mean, at the moment, I'd really rather show you girls a good time."

Chapter 24 A Meeting With The Professor

The massive artificial world 'University' was a tribute to guild engineering. The innovative use of gravitational optimizers to reduce it's effective gravity down to just one galactic standard gravity, was considered impressive. That it was done so smoothly that not even the most sensitive guildsmen could feel any indication of the suppression of so huge a gravitational force. Was a source of wonder throughout the guild but few knew just how great a feat of engineering it actually was.

Even Questor found the magnitude of the gravitational conversion impressive. It wasn't actually just the hundred to one reduction in the effective gravity, that most visitors believed they were experiencing. The task the gravitation optimizers were actually doing was much greater than that. For University was actually a hollow shell. The inner most layer of which was less than a hundred arms above the event horizon of the black hole within it. The singularity would, should the optimizers ever fail, cause the artificial world to implode. Contained as it was however, the black hole provided University with considerably more power than the entire radiated output of the star it currently orbited.

Questor's business at University shouldn't take long. He hoped to return to the Resonance before it departed the vicinity. Even though the Resonance would take less than an overcycle to unload the multitude of cargo pods consigned to University. Then loading the few pods of outgoing freight would take less time than that. That total again would have been more than enough time to follow up with a passenger transfer of several thousand. Though on this trip, there were just 32 passengers disembarking and only 15 new passengers were scheduled to be picked up. Nonetheless, Questor had arranged for his personal shuttle to be launched before the Resonance had even established it's parking orbit.

A robot was waiting for him when Questor stepped out of the airlock into the reception chamber. It spoke in an obviously mechanical monotone.

"Welcome to University," the robot began. "Please present proper identification documents at this time."

"I am a questor," he replied. "And as such proper identification documents do not exist."

"Identification protocol requires documentation," the robot insisted.

Questor was rapidly becoming irritated.

"Is University not an alpha rated guild facility?" he began. "As such it's procedures should comply with guild protocol which do not allow individual questors to be identified by mere documentation. It is required that such guild facilities use a scanner based identification process."

The robot's visual receptors began to glow. Questor's nanosymbiont unshielded it's networking base signal, allowing the robot to detect the unique resonance value that was, in part, based on Questor's genetic code.

"Identification scan complete," the robot stated. Then from a slot in it's chest, it produced a plastic card which it presented to Questor. "You are required to keep this identification document on your person at all times."

Questor's nanites scanned the data card. They reported that it did accurately specify which questor he was. Suddenly Questor was angry. Such documentation was tolerated at sub-guild facilities that didn't have full access to the guild's questor database but for several billion years, it had been absolutely unacceptable for any alpha rated guild facility to use such documentation to identify any specific questor.

This was because any questor could easily modify such documentation to match a different questor's identity. It wasn't something that most questors would even consider doing. Nonetheless any circumstances that required a questor's individual identity be recorded at an alpha grade guild site, was supposed to base that identification on a live scan against the guild's questor database.

It especially bothered Questor that it was happening at University. Where the primary copy of the questor database was maintained.

"This is a prime violation of guild protocol," Questor proclaimed. "It shall not be allowed to stand."

As he said this Questor's nanosymbiont launched three nano-pod strike teams. One of which expended itself vaporizing the offending data card. Another shorted the power circuits in the robot's card maker. Rendering it incapable of generating a replacement for the offending documentation. The third began an infiltration of University's internal communication system. To deliver a message to the Professor, alerting him to the procedural conflict.

Even as an assault team of military robots arrived, a holographic representation of the professor appeared and instructed them to abort their mission. Then the Professor's holographic image turned to face Questor.

"Why must you be so difficult?" the Professor's image said.

"Because, it is a matter of 'guild honor'," Questor replied. "You know very well why this method shouldn't be used to identify a questor."

"But the current security procedures were adopted for very good reasons," the Professor's image insisted. "And have been accepted by nearly one hundred questors, so far."

"Then nearly a hundred questors have failed to honor the terms of their primary oath," Questor stated as a mater of fact. "I have something which should interest you but if your security robots insist on enforcing this protocol. Then I'm going to have to leave before I can show it to you."

"Oh very well," the Professor conceded. "I'll arrange an exception to the protocol"

Questor just stared silently at the holographic projection for a full subcyclet before he replied.

"I'm afraid I'm unable to settle for a personal exception on this issue Professor," Questor explained. "You of all people should remember why I feel so strongly about it."

The Professors hologram sighed, then spoke in a much kinder tone of voice.

"Of course I remember Questor," the hologram said. "It was this very kind of dependence on mere documentation that nearly had you branded as a renegade by the council. I well remember that the council only relented on the strength of 'my' testimony that we had been in an unadvertised conference, at the time someone purporting to be you, destroyed the galactic library planet.

Very well, I will have the security protocol modified to accept a generalized questor identification document that doesn't in itself specify which questor is present. Will that suffice?"

"Yes, that will do," Questor replied.

The professor's image vanished. The robot didn't appear to notice that it's chest was still smoking when it resumed speaking.

"I am instructed to escort you to the Professor's office Questor," the robot asserted in a steady monotone. "But first I must ask you to respect University's dress code. There are suitable garments in the closet behind you."

"Will this do?" Questor replied as the nano-morphic material of his translucent blue space suit obeyed a command from his nanosymbiont.

It became an opaque metallic blue and a little less formfitting in the vicinity of his crotch. The robot looked over it's shoulder at him as it approached a wall mounted identification system, from which it extracted another identification data card.

"Yes Questor," the robot answered as it presented the new card to Questor. "That will suffice. There has been a slight change in the identification protocol. This data card only identifies your status. It is not capable of certifying your personal identity. You are required to keep it on your person at all times."

"Then I shall comply," replied Questor.

As he sent another small task force of nanites to repair the assorted damages the robot had sustained when Questor disabled it's data card maker.

"Please follow me," the robot said. As it proceeded to lead the way down a maze of corridors. They hadn't walked far when the robot continued. "I have detected functionality returning to my damaged components. My logic processor suggests a high probability that Questor has initiated a repair sequence as an act of kindness. Please be informed that you are not required to be kind to robots."

"Perhaps not," Questor replied. "But if it were an obligation, it would no longer truly be an act of kindness."

"That is logical," the robot acknowledged. Then the robot stopped beside a doorway. "You are requested to enter. The Professor will be with you momentarily."

The office was designed to impress. It was a large room. What could be seen of it's walls, like the floor, appeared to be made out of wood. Most of the walls surface was covered with an assortment of tapestries, paintings and shelves of books. The entire ceiling glowed gently with blue light, except for a few spots like the one over the massive wooden desk at one end of the office, from which a cone of bright white light shined down on the desks surface area.

Each of the other four bright spots highlighted a display case which contained artifacts from various Kindred ruins. Questor looked at the displayed artifacts. He had seen most of them before but wasn't surprised to find a few new items. The professor was well known for his interest in Kindred artifacts. Especially those containing the symbolic markings that he sought to translate.

The Professor arrived two cyclets after Questor entered his office. That is to say, a human form robotic body resembling the appearance the professor had when he was a young man, entered the office from a concealed door behind his desk.

"Welcome to University," the human form robot said in a very lifelike voice. "What brings you to civilization this time?" As he spoke the Professors robotic body sat down behind the desk and gestured towards one of the chairs in front of it. "Please do sit down and tell me about it."

Questor wasn't particularly surprised that his nanites couldn't detect the control signal that the Professor used to link with the robotic body in front of him. He was after all inside University.

"Two things sir," Questor began. "One is a disturbing security issue. I was recently ambushed by 5 suicidal cybernoids who managed to radiate high levels of energy on 5 distinct, but overlapping carrier waves frequencies. Each of which was close enough to my nanosymbiont's operating frequency as to disrupt it's higher functions."

"That is disturbing Questor," the Professor's robotic avatar said. "To be sure it's alarming enough to think they have a clue how to disrupt a nano-net. But to do as you describe with only 5 signal sources suggests that they have acquired some detailed intelligence about yours in particular. They would have to have gained access to information that I would have thought beyond their reach. It can only be hoped that they don't have everyone's operating frequency. I will begin an investigation immediately into how such information might have leaked."

"That's what I'd hoped you'd say," Questor said.

Then he showed the Professor the crystal disk he had acquired on XenDar.

"Does that symbol mean what I think it does?" he asked.

The Professor's robotic avatar stopped moving. The ceiling reconfigured into a full spectrum scanner system which focused a low intensity beam, which rapidly increased in strength until Questor's nanosymbiont began to initialize a defense screen. Then with a loud click the ceiling returned to normal and the robotic avatar reanimated.

"That depends, on where it was and what was found with it," the Professor's avatar said. "But it is certain that it's made of a rare form of crystal that has so far been found only at the very best Kindred sites."

"It was associated with these." Questor replied as he transmitted an image of the two disks BillSong had retained.

"In that case the symbol on your disk refers to the Kindred's homeworld." The professors voice emanated from the communication unit on the desk, as the avatar once again stopped moving. "Tell me, where did you find it?"

"On a delightful planet with a fragile balance between it's unusual ecology and the human colony that claims it," Questor replied. "There are 360 more unique crystal disks. Along with several ancient writings and drawings I'd like to show you. But first I need assurance that you will avoid causing the exploitation of the place by declaring it an official Kindred site. I want the delicate balance of the existing colony to remain undisturbed. The location needs to be treated as an omega class secret."

The Professor was silent for two subcyclets. Then he reanimated his avatar.

"If you were anyone else I'd think you must be joking," the avatar informed him. "You must know that any place where even just the three disks I've seen were found together would be the most significant of Kindred sites. How could I possibly justify keeping it's existence a secret?"

"Not it's existence," Questor sighed. "Just it's location. And I'm not asking for a commitment to permanent secrecy. But I'll need time and your backing. To establish safeguards to protect both the site and the world in which I found it. From the predators who would ravage the whole place to walk away with just one of these disks. Besides, there is enough written material on the walls of the entrance tunnel to keep you busy for years. Then, by the time your ready to actually publish your results, we should have the necessary protective measures in place."

Chapter 25 Saddle Sore

The Ferry ride across the small lake had been short. They had opted to accompany Sue and Donald Elderberry to their horse ranch. Instead of riding a riverboat all the way to David Millers estate.

Sue had suggested that she could offer them a scenic horseback route, which would be somewhat more direct than the winding course of the upper Midway river. She had to deliver a few riding horses to a small township that bordered on prime Miller's estate anyway. If they went along she wouldn't need to leave the ranch shorthanded. They didn't have to decide until tomorrow.

Jake had asked Mary to discreetly purchase passage on one of the riverboats anyway. He said that it was worth the expense to him to know they had a private cabin reserved. Just in case they decided against the horse trail. She had confirmed that they were scheduled to board the 'Scuttlebutt', a sternwheeler, at dusk the next day when it made it's scheduled stop at the docks near the Elderberry ranch.

Then they all boarded a much less luxurious ferry that evidently was sometimes used to transport livestock.

There were a couple of wagons waiting for them at the docks. It took only a few minutes for the ranch hands to transfer the provisions, that had been loaded for them in Laketown, from the ferry to the wagons. Sue introduced the ranch hands as John Baker, a blue eyed blond young man with a gentile disposition and Steve Angler, a green eyed middle aged man with black hair with a gruff personality. Each of the wagons were drawn by a team of two horses and had an open bed for cargo. Each wagon also had a single bench wide enough to seat three passengers. Which was somewhat protected from the elements by a small cloth awning. There was also a much smaller seat for the driver which wasn't quite so well protected.

Jake climbed into the first wagon with Sue and her father. Jess and Sam escorted Mary into the second wagon. Steve climbed into the drivers seat of the first wagon. John did the same with the second.

Just before the drivers sat down, they each retrieved and donned a straw hat from under their seats. Sam couldn't help thinking the hats looked out of place to him. He would have expected something with a shape resembling what he thought of as a cowboy hat. Or perhaps a Mexican sombrero. Anything but a tall cone shaped center surrounded by a wide floppy brim, that only needed black paint to look like a witches hat. Steve held up his arm, pointing at the sky. Then he let it fall forward as he yelled "Yo!" As he yelled he flicked the horse's backsides with the tail end of the long reins.

The first wagon hadn't moved more than 5 feet when John spoke softly, "Yo yo." As he gently swung the reins from side to side causing them to lightly brush against the sides of the horses pulling his wagon. The result was the same as Steve's more vigorous method. Soon both wagons were rolling along an unpaved road at a steady trot.

Neither driver had to do much to keep the horses moving. Every now and then Steve would would slap the wagon with the end of the reins and the horses would take the hint and quicken the pace. Or he'd call out "kay" and they'd slow down. Either way John didn't need to do anything for his horse team to quickly match their speed. Maintaining a distance of two to three wagon lengths from the lead wagon. As soon as they did so however, he immediately sung out in a loud but kindly gentle voice, "That's the way." Occasionally John would add "Keep it up and I'll find you some carrots." It didn't seem like either driver had to tell the horses when to turn onto a side road. The horses knew the way home.

"I've noticed a thing or two about this world Jess," Sam spoke quietly as they road along. "There are a lot of parallels to our 'Earth'. Right down to kind of names the people have. And while those translator nanites we're infested with, make it hard to tell. I'm pretty sure that we are still speaking something that sounds a lot like English. So I figure the world these people came from must have been a lot like our Earth. Am I right?"

"Damn near identical!" Jess replied. "Why do you ask?"

"Well I've also noticed that I haven't seen a single Black, Hispanic, or Asian among any of the people I've seen so far," Sam paused for a moment. "How come?"

Jess looked uncomfortable as he tried to think what to say. Then before he could come up with a suitable answer, Mary spoke up.

"That, I'm ashamed to say, is mostly thanks to our advanced medically enhanced good health," she said. "All of those ethnic groups and several others as well, were among us when we first migrated to Luna base. But when our ancestors first devised the genetic modification system that eventually gave us such long lives, it's designer did a terrible thing. He was a genius but he was also a racist. Everyone knew that he believed that the so called white race was superior. But few believed that he hated all the other ethnic groups so much as to actually commit genocide. What he didn't tell anyone was that his treatment would gradually render everyone who wasn't 'genetically white' sterile, unable to conceive children. By the time that was known, it was far to late.

The initial results of the treatment had been so good that everyone had taken the treatment. He was eventually tried and publicly executed for this terrible deed. But not before he learned that his own children were so horrified by his crime. That they had all committed suicide, rather than live with the shame of it.

We spent most of the next three hundred years trying to find a solution. But to no avail, the last of them passed away without the blessing of children long before we reached Slowlane."

There were tears in her eyes when she stopped talking. Nobody else thought of anything to say and an awkward silence befell them for the few minutes remaining until they reached the ranch.

As they approached the buildings, Steve once again pointed at the sky. This time, when he let his arm fall he, along with John, both called out with a loud drawn out "kaaaaaaaaaayyyyyy!", as they firmly pulled back on the reins. When the wagons came to a stop, both drivers hopped out and immediately began praising and rubbing their horse's necks. They also gently scratched behind their ears. John pulled a couple of carrots out of his pockets and feed them to his horse team.

"Damn it John," Steve called out. "You shouldn't spoil them like that."

"Ram shit!" John called back. "I seen you slipping the horses apples and such when ya think no ones looking."

As the passengers stepped down from the wagons, Sue invited them all inside.

"It's nearly noon," she said. "I'll bet Andy will have something good, just waiting for us to sit down for the midday meal."

They followed her inside the main house. There was a large open room with a dozen chairs around a couple of tables at one end. As well as what looked to be a comfortable lounge at the other. There were two wood stoves in the middle of the room. The smaller one was lit and keeping a pot of some kind of stew hot.

"Hello Andy," Sue said to a tall, skinny youngish man with brown hair.

"I might have known you'd bring home extra mouths to feed Susan," Andy replied. "Not to worry though, Ellen, saw you coming up the lane and ran over to the bunkhouse to fetch back a bit more stew before the boys get a chance to finish it off."

No sooner had he said that than a black haired middle aged women walked in from the back door carrying a fair sized cast iron kettle in one hand and a loaf of bread in the other. She had the appearance of a strong willed woman with a no nonsense attitude. She was also evidently used to doing things herself, judging by the way Andy just got out of her way.

"Hello Sue, Donald," the woman said.

Then as she walked by the table she tossed the loaf of bread onto it, where it landed neatly on the edge of a serving dish that already held another loaf.

"You can introduce your guests after your all done eating," Ellen continued. "For now, Andy's stew is hot and my bread's still warm."

As she approached the wood stove she swung the kettle she was holding forward, grabbing the cloth she had wrapped around the handle with her other hand. Then using both arms, she smoothly lifted it up and set it down next to the kettle Andy had been stirring.

"Sit sit," she insisted. "I'll have no standing on ceremony here. Besides I'm betting Andy can't wait for you to tell him how good his rabbit stew is this time."

As she spoke she stepped over to a cupboard. Where she grabbed a stack of bowls and a handful of spoons. Which she quickly laid out at the table. Andy followed her with one of the kettles and a ladle, filling the bowls almost as quickly as she placed them on the table.

"Well you heard Ellen," Sue said. "Pull up a chair and try the stew." As she spoke Sue and her father practically jumped into two of the chairs. "Andy here won't feed the rest of it to the boys until he knows what we think of it." No sooner had she finished speaking than Sue followed her fathers example who was already eating.

Jake decided that the stew smelled too good to pass up and the others followed his example. Once they tasted the stew, nobody wasted time doing anything but following the last spoonful with the next. After a few seconds of listening to them trying not to slurp the Stew. Andy smiled happily.

"That's all I need to know," he said. "Time to go feed the boys." Then he walked out the back door.

When both kettles of stew and both loaves of bread were quite gone, Sue introduced her guests to Ellen. Then she explained the details of the horse ride she was planning.

"So you see, I'm supposed to deliver a dozen trail proven horses to a farm just the other side of the bridge from Shipend," Sue explained. "But If you don't count a few I don't want to part with, I've only got eight that have already proven themselves on a back country trail. So instead of shipping them up the river, I want to ride them there. If you four would care to come along for the ride and everyone leads a second horse which can double as a pack horse. Then I only need to take three of my people from the ranch. This being the season for the annual round up and head count for my wild horses, the fewer ranch hands I take away from the ranch the better."

Jake looked thoughtful for a moment.

"What say you Mary?" he asked. "Are you up for this?"

"Actually, it's been so long since I've camped out," Mary answered. "That it sounds like fun to me."

"Well then, the only problem I see," Jake continued. "Is that Sam here tells me he's never actually ridden a horse. So if you have one that's not likely to break his fool neck for him, the only other question is when can we leave."

Sue sounded incredulous when she replied.

"Never ridden?" she asked. "I find that hard to believe."

"Don't forget Sue," Mary spoke up. "These boys are outworlders. They come from a world more like 'Old Earth' than Slowlane. They are more used to machines than horses."

"Well I guess that could account for it," Sue acknowledged. "I suppose he could ride Nelly. That's the old mare I'd choose if I had to put a sick, injured or drunken ranch hand on a horse, to bring him safely home. So I guess we can leave whenever your ready. How about first thing in the morning?"

"That would work alright," Jake agreed. "But we still have half a days worth of daylight out there. Why waste it?"

"Even better!" Sue said. "I didn't want to rush you. I thought you might want to rest up a bit. But if you'd just as soon start now, my ranch hands can have the horses all geared up and ready to go in half an hour."

"Just one minute," Donald spoke up. "I want a word with these outworlders about how they intend to behave around you."

At this point Sue's nostrils flared.

"I'm not a child father!" she retorted. "I'm a gosh dang prime. And what I choose to do or not to do with any of these gentlemen is my business. Not yours!"

Her father sounded sincere as he apologized.

"I'm sorry Sue girl," he said. "But in my heart you'll always be my little girl. Besides, I just want to make sure that you get to do the choosing. We've both heard tales about the things a questor like Jake here can do..."

"Actually I'm just an apprentice to a questor," Jake interrupted. "But I take your meaning and let me assure you, I won't do that. But I also wouldn't interfere with anything she might actually choose to be doing. What I can promise is that I simply will not allow anyone to take that choice away from her. Not even me. Will that do sir?"

Donald just stared Jake in the eyes for a moment.

"For what it's worth Jake, I believe you will try to keep that promise," he said. Then he glanced at his daughter, who was obviously still irritated with him for meddling in her business, "And I'm guessing that it will have to do." Then he turned all his attention to Sue. "I'm sorry." he said again. "Will you forgive me?"

"Of course I will father," Sue replied. "That is if you'll stop talking about it." Then she turned to face Jake. "I suppose I should thank you for your pledge to protect me. If half of the things I've heard about you are true, then I shall feel very safe. You are the one who actually stood up without undoing the safety harness aren't you?"

Jake grinned.

"Not exactly," he quipped. "By the time I was finished standing up, that poor harness was 'totally undone'. But yes, that was me. When did you hear about that?"

Donald suddenly cleared his throat.

"Wait a minute!" he interrupted. "Do you mean that load of crap about a man ripping through an aircraft safety harness like it was made of paper wasn't just crap? We heard that rumor a couple of hours before we got on the train back in Capital City. Of course, I, didn't believe it."

"Believe me," Mary said, as she leaned forward. "It happened."

To everyone's surprise Sam managed fairly well on the brown and white mare. Except for when, about three hours into the ride, he tried to get her to stop with the expression he learned from movies of the old west. Nelly was obviously getting mixed signals when he pulled back on the reins while calling out "Whoa Nelly." To Nelly it must have sounded too much like the command "yo", that they had been taught meant to start moving or to pick up the pace. The confused mare had started to slow down, then broke into a gallop.

"Are you all right Sam?" Jake called out.

For his part Sam made the mistake of yelling over his shoulder, "I'm OK!" When Nelly heard her rider say 'K' while he was still pulling back on the reins, she responded to the the command 'kay' and stopped so suddenly that Sam was pitched forward over the mare's head.

Fortunately Jess had spent some time over the past few years to teach Sam some basic martial arts. So he landed with a roll and only his pride was hurt. Jake caught up to Sam first and he jumped off Fleetfoot, the black stallion he was riding. While he made sure that Sam wasn't hurt the others caught up.

"I thought you said Nelly wouldn't toss Sam off like this?" Jake gruffly demanded of Sue but he wasn't able to keep a straight face long enough for Sue to answer. He broke out laughing as he explained. "Actually it's not really Sam's fault. On his homeland the traditional commands used to start and stop horses are a bit different than you use here on Slowlane." Sue quickly gathered that Sam wasn't really hurt and made a suggestion.

"Perhaps we should spend a little time giving Sam a few lessons then," she said.

Sam's cheeks turned rather reddish.

"No! I don't need any help," Sam insisted. "I'll be O... all right. At least I won't soon make that mistake again."

Nelly didn't seem quite as sure about it when he tried to remount her however.

"I can calm her down for you Sam," Jake suggested after she shied away from him the second time.

"Don't you dare!" Sam pleaded. "I've got to do this myself or I'll never be able to look myself in the eyes again."

"Alright Sam," Jake replied. "Your on your own."

Sam walked over to his pack horse and extracted a sugar tablet from his kit. He held it up so that Nelly could see it as he approached her. For her part, Nelly obviously recognized the peace offering for what it was. So after liberating it from Sam's hand so quickly that he felt like he should count his fingers, Nelly let Sam scratch behind her ears as he made apologetic sounds. After a couple of minutes Sam had worked his way close enough to put his foot in the stirrup. Once he was again on her back, Nelly accepted the fact that he was going to ride her some more.

As they rode the landscape gradually changed from flat grasslands to wooded hills. The sun was approaching the horizon when Sue called a halt. She pointed at a hill to the left side of the trail.

"There's a good spot to camp up there," she said to Jake. "We will want to get a good nights sleep tonight. We will need to ride from dawn till dusk before we get to the next good campsite."

Then she dismounted and led her horses up the steep slope. The rest of them followed her example. When they reached the campsite, Jake could see why Sue had recommended it. There was a small tree lined glen with a grassy clearing on the far side of the hill. There was a steady trickle of water flowing from a rocky ledge at one end of what amounted to a very small box canyon. There was only one way for a horse to enter or leave the place and it was easily blocked with a few well placed ropes and a bit of netting that Sue had on her pack horse.

Once they had the horses unsaddled, they were able to let them wander freely. Letting them graze on the grass and drink from the stream as they liked. The steep sides of the glen provided a natural windbreak. There was also a ring of stones that had evidently been the site of many campfires. Sue had brought along two rugged looking rough riders from her ranch. Steve and a short redhead named Tom. Who sounded only a little more friendly than Steve. Which surprised Sam, at first. He had pegged the man as friendly during the ride. After a little while however he realized that almost everything Tom had said once they made camp was to unfavorably compare the camp to a nice warm bunkhouse. He, it seamed, really didn't like sleeping outdoors.

Steve, on the other hand had become almost cheerful as he broke out a harmonica and begin to play. Meanwhile Tom was busy getting a fire going. He never stopped complaining about the need for it as he quickly gathered up a fair sized pile of deadwood and he soon had a fire blazing away. It seamed that while he disliked camping out, he was actually adept at it. By the time there was a decent bed of coals, Ellen, the third and last of the people Sue had brought from her ranch, had a pot of vegetables and water propped up on a couple rocks at the edge of the fire.

"Steve, do you think you could put that away long enough to rustle up a bit of fresh meat for my stew, Ellen asked. "Or are you going to make me use some of the smoked meat in my pack?"

Steve didn't say a word as he pocketed his harmonica. Then taking a sling from his pack he walked into the wooded part of the glen. He was back before the water came to a boil, with a couple of squirrels tied to his belt. Ellen accepted them without comment. She lost no time dressing out the meat. Which she quickly cut into bite sized pieces and tossed into the stew pot, just as it began to boil.

Steve, for his part returned to playing his harmonica until the stew was ready. Sam wasn't happy with the idea of eating squirrel meat but in the cool evening air the stew smelled so good that he ate without complaint. He thought that he must have been really hungry because he decided the stew was delicious.

Sue designated Steve and Tom to take turns staying up to keep a low fire going. Along with keeping an eye out for any predatory wild animals that might otherwise give them problems in the night.

"But since I don't want you two to spend half the night deciding who takes first watch," Sue added after a moments reflection. "I'm going to make up your minds for you. The way I figure it, I'm tired enough to fall asleep to your music Steve. But I doubt I'd sleep through it if you suddenly started playing half way through the night." Steve grunted, and laid out his bedroll in a choice spot by the fire. Then he took out his harmonica and softly began to play.

Ellen unrolled her bedroll right next to Steve's, then she looked at Tom and patted the ground on the other side of her bedroll. He took the hint, and spread his bedroll next to Ellen's. Sue quickly claimed a spot a little less than one third of the way around the fire. Then she pointed at the remaining vacant area on the other side of the fire.

"I think you four might want to consider placing your bedrolls close enough to share body heat," Sue suggested. "It's going to get pretty cold tonight."

"That sounds like good advice," Jake agreed. Then he looked pointedly at Sue's bedroll. "But I wouldn't want you to get too cold either."

As he spoke Jake had quickly rummaged in his pack, finally pulling out an oblong metallic cylinder. With which he scooped up some hot coals from the fire. Then as he closed the opening he held it out to her.

"Put this under your blanket," he said. "It'll help keep you warm for several hours."

Sue accepted the cylinder from Jake.

"But this is soft," Sue said in a puzzled voice. "It's almost like a pillow. What keeps the coals from burning a hole in it?" Jake smiled.

"You wouldn't really expect me to tell you the secrets of guild technology would you?" he asked.

Meanwhile Jess and Sam had laid out their bedrolls along with Jake's in a sort of triangle, with Mary's in the center. Sue couldn't help but notice that the four of them shared a bit more than body heat that night. Though she also noted, they were at least discreet enough to be quiet about it. Which was more than could be said for Ellen as she snuggled first with Tom, then later with Steve.

Morning came early. Or at least that's how Sam and Mary felt about it. Most of the night had been nearly uneventful, if you didn't count what occurred under the blankets. One serious predator had slipped into the glen about halfway through Tom's watch. One of the nano-scouts Jake had quietly posted on sentry duty informed him of the mountain lion's approach just before Tom noticed the nervousness of the horses. By the time Tom had retrieved the pellet gun from his pack, Jake had already prepped a dozen nano-pods with sufficient nano-pheromones to send the big cat away. The nano-pods released their cargo inside the nostrils of the hapless beast. Which immediately forgot it's hunger as it suddenly ran away.

It's screams of terror and rage faded into the distance so quickly that neither Sam nor Mary woke up. The rest of the camp was at least sure the beast was gone for the night. Nonetheless Steve got up and retrieved his own air powered weapon.

"I think maybe Tom and I should try to find out what scared that kitty so badly?" Steve suggested quietly. Their attention was so focused on the perimeter of the camp that they were taken by surprise when Jake spoke up right next to them.

"Look around if you like," he said quietly. "But you won't find any trace of the monster that cat got a whiff of." Sue looked at Jake who was now squatting right next to her blankets.

"You did that?" she began to ask, then before he could answer she continued. "Of course you did. I don't know why I even bothered to post my boys on guard duty. I suppose I should thank you." Then she reached out and briefly tugged on Jake's exposed manhood as she added. "But what I will thank you to do is to please cover this with something before you approach my bed. It's hard enough trying to sleep knowing what's going on over there." She gestured with a sweeping motion that encompassed both the pile of blankets Jake and his team had been sharing with Mary and the one Ellen had shared with the ranch hands.

In doing so, her blanket shifted. Revealing that she also preferred to sleep naked. Neither Jake nor Steve could possibly have missed the fact that her nipples were both hard. A fact that Tom had also noticed as he walked over to find out what Steve and Jake were discussing with his mistress. Sue noticed their stares but she didn't bother trying to cover up before she finished speaking.

"I'm just as human as the other girls you know," she said. "I'm just not prepared to jump into bed with a man every time I've a chance to. Now please, all of you, go back to whatever you were doing before Jake's equipment scared off that cat."

Jake of course hadn't needed to see the state of Sue's nipples to be aware that she had actually been aroused all night. In fact his nano-enhanced senses had told him of her condition while they were still riding the horses.
Jess hadn't seen the need to rouse himself completely when he heard the departure of the mountain lion. He was familiar enough with Jake's abilities that he was quite sure the danger, if any, was long gone. So he had returned to slumber so quickly that he wasn't even aware that he had missed a chance to ogle Sue's tits. Jake decided that since Mary had slept through the whole thing, she must need what sleep she could get. So he didn't rouse her. He was painfully aware however of the sensual way Ellen settled Steve back in.

Jake never did get back to sleep that night. Eventually, shortly before the dawn, he noticed Ellen getting back up. There was a full moon, so Ellen had no trouble finding what she wanted in her pack. Then as she walked towards the stream Ellen turned and pointed towards Jake. Her finger then began to move in a gesture that suggested she wanted him to follow her. He caught up with her at the edge of the water. She handed him a wash cloth, and a bar of soap.

"Do my back," she whispered. "And I'll do your front."

When they eventually returned to the campsite, Sue was standing by the fire.

"I'd like to get an early start this morning Ellen," Sue explained. "So I hope you've planned something quick for breakfast."

Ellen looked at a pot of water that someone had already put on the fire.

"Looks like we will be able to have hot tea in a minute or two," Ellen replied. "And by then I'll have sliced up a loaf of the bread I brought. Which will taste even better because I've got some butter in one jar, and some honey in another. Will that do?"

Just then, Mary got up.

"I'm thinking that stream is cold as ice," Mary said as she eyed the towel that Ellen was still carrying. "But if we have a few minutes, maybe the boys and I should go freshen up."

"Go for it!" Sue spoke up. "But if you don't want to go hungry, I suggest that unlike these two, you should consider settling for just washing up a bit."

Sam was getting more uncomfortable by the minute. He had been a little stiff when they started riding this morning. Then, shortly after he settled into his saddle, he noticed that his backside was a bit tender. Now that it was nearly noon, he was considering using one of his precious nano-med packets to heal away the soreness that was rapidly becoming unbearable. He would have already done so but he felt like he would be wasting them on a trivial pain. The trail now passed through a forest that was thick enough to provide nearly continuous shade. It's surface however, was uneven, full of so many bumps and dips that nothing he could do was enough to keep his sore butt from actually bouncing against the saddle. He had just about made up his mind to use a nano-med packet when Sue called a halt.

"We're stopping for a few minutes to feed and water the horses," Sue explained. "Which should give Helen just enough time to slice up another loaf of bread and maybe some of the smoked meat. But I'm afraid we'll have to eat it while we ride. And we won't be stopping long enough for a fire. So I'm afraid that also means we'll have to wash it down with cold water."

"Sam, I'm afraid I need you to drop your draws and bend over," she added as soon they had all dismounted. "I've seen the way you've been sitting in that saddle. So I know you've developed a nasty case of saddle sores. I've got some ointment that'll fix you right up." She held up a jar she had taken from her pack. "But I need to see where to put it."

Never one to be bashful Sam followed her instructions in order. First he undid his belt and let his trousers fall to his ankles and he stepped out of them while he was still facing her. He paused for a moment while Sue gaped at his snake tattoo. He enjoyed the expression that crossed Sue's face as his snake rapidly stood to attention while she stared at it.

"I think you'll find I that my whole butt needs that ointment of yours," Sam said.

Then he turned around and bent over with his legs slightly spread. Which of course provided Sue with a view of a few more tattoos.

"I think your right," Sue agreed. "It does look like your whole decorated ass needs this."

As she said that she scooped a generous amount of the ointment from the jar. Then she squatted down and gently massaged it into Sam's buttocks. Sam found that the ointment was providing immediate relief from the pain. Though it didn't exactly make the area feel numb. Instead it sort of tingled.

This wasn't the first time Sue had applied this ointment to a man's private areas. In fact the multipurpose ointment she had originally developed for her horses was good for a wide range of sores and rashes. Though since it's effectiveness depended on being rubbed in thoroughly with just the right amount of pressure, she had always insisted on applying it herself. This included the time that young John Baker had gone on his first extended trail ride and had been a little too modest about defecating in front of other people. He was also foolish enough to seek concealment in a clump of itchweed bushes to relieve himself. In his case she had to massage the ointment into his entire genital area, twice a day, for a week. Which she had done with the same clinical detachment with which she would have applied it to one of the horses. That had embarrassed the young man far more than the idea of voiding his bowels in plain sight ever would have.

This time was different however. Something about rubbing the tattooed buttocks of this outworlder was affecting her. Sue found herself wishing that Sam's saddle sores extended to his scrotum because she discovered that she wanted to feel his balls. In fact, it took every bit of willpower she had to confine her attentions to the affected area. As she struggled with herself she realized that she actually wanted to bring this man to orgasm. More than that she was beyond caring about who was watching. It was a near thing. Sue was so aroused by the act of rubbing the ointment into Sam's ass, that the very thought of feeling Sam's balls twitch was enough to push her over the edge.

Sue felt herself falling into the temptation. She felt herself going for it but even as she began to slide her hand down the crack of Sam's butt, she suddenly stopped feeling horny. Her hand was less than an inch from reaching his scrotum, when she decided that she didn't really want to. Or rather that she didn't want to do it right now. Sue pulled her hand back and stood up. Then she noticed the way everyone was looking at her.

"What are you looking at me like that for?" she asked.

Even as she asked however, she knew the answer. She had actually spent more time rubbing the lotion into Sam's butt than she should have. A fact that all of her ranch hands would have noticed. They knew how long it normally took her to apply the stuff to any given area. Always outspoken, Steve answered.

"Since you asked," Steve explained. "I don't think any of us ever saw you get heated up like that before."

"I was simply rendering first aid," Sue tried to defend herself. At which point Steve snorted.

"Heck, you've never wound up breathing like that, anytime you've ever given first aid to anyone else. Not even when you used that ointment of yours on that terrible rash poor John got on his crotch a couple of years back. Though as I remember it he sure wound up breathing like that."

She was about to protest further when she realized that the crotch of her pants were soaked through. As she stood there she could smell the scent of her recent arousal. As Sue stood there looking down at herself with a puzzled expression, she could feel herself blushing.

"Oh... I'm sorry, I guess your right," she admitted. "I was umm. out of control wasn't I?"

At this point Ellen spoke up in a kind voice.

"Yes Sue, I'm afraid you were at that," Ellen confirmed. "But I guess none of us ever saw such tattoos as this Sam has before. Maybe that's what set you off."

Then with a flash of realization Sue looked intensely at Jake.

"Wait a minute, father was worried that you might use your nanites to cause something like this.?" Sue demanded.

"And I promised that I wouldn't," Jake countered. "And I didn't. But yes, when I realized what was happening, I did use some nano-pheromones to stop it. But I was just a little bit too slow. So by the time they took effect, things had progressed so far that everybody else noticed what was happening."

There were tears running down Sue's face by the time he finished explaining.

"Well I guess I should thank you for trying to help," she said. "But damn it. Now I'm going to have to live with the shame of it and I didn't even get to enjoy it properly." Then suddenly realizing what she was saying Sue looked up at her employees. "Oh what you all must think of me now..."

"Oh Dung heap!" Tom exploded. "You've got nothing to feel ashamed about." Normally Tom never said much about anything except how much he disliked camping but once he got started on something he tended to be very outspoken. "It's not like your not of age. Nor even like either of you are married. And if what's bothering you is that you were indiscreet enough to let us see it happen, well then I suggest you consider that there were none of us that were very discrete last night." Tom would have continued for considerably longer but he saw the look on her face.

"Um... This isn't helping, is it?" he asked.

"Not really," she said. "But it does help a bit to know you don't think I'm horrible."

"I don't think any of us think that Sue," Mary spoke up. "I know I don't."

Sue looked at her. Then she looked at the rest of them and it seamed to her that everyone was looking at her with concern.

"Well maybe I'm overreacting then," she said. "Does anyone have any bad feelings about... about what almost happened?"

Sue was immediately rewarded by a chorus of "No!" and "Not me!" accompanied by a lot of shaking heads.

Then suddenly Sam spoke up as he stepped back into his pants.

"To tell you the truth Sue," Sam admitted. "The only bad feelings I got is for Jake putting a stop to it so damned soon."

After a moment Sue started laughing.

"Well I'll tell you what Sam," she said. "If you'll wait till we get to the next campsite, I'll let you put your bedroll next to mine tonight. And then I won't care if neither of us are very discrete about it. Hows that?" Sam whole face brightened as he smiled.

"That's good," he said. "Cause I've never been very good at being all that discrete."

The next campsite was also located partway up a hill. It was in a deep but narrow cleft that bisected a large hill into two unequal halves. It was located about two thirds of the way to the top of the hill. A path of sorts wound up the side of the hill to one end of the cleft. This end of the cleft was barely wide enough for the horses to pass between the steep rocky sides. The 'floor' of the cleft angled slightly downwards, deeper into the cleft After the first thirty feet, the fissure abruptly widened. One of the steep sides and the 'floor' of the widening cleft became less rocky and covered with grass. Right where the narrow section of the cleft began to widen, someone had built a stout wooden gate that would keep the horses from wandering back out of this end of the meadow. A few feet after the cleft widened, a small spring trickled through a crack in the the rock face of the taller side of the cleft. The far end of the meadow was guarded by the more effective natural barrier of a large cluster of daggerthorn trees that filled the wide lower end of the cleft from side to side.

Sue pointed at the small trickle of water that seeped out of the rock cliff face.

"That's the best tasting spring water within 300 miles of here," she said. "And the horses can drink their fill from the little brook that runs along the bottom of the cliff from it to the daggerthorn cluster. We can let them wander about freely because horses seem to know better than to nuzzle up to anything that smells like a daggerthorn bush. We on the other hand will have to remember to be careful about those thorns." Next she pointed at a heavy wooden door set into the nearly vertical side of the hill on the other side of the cleft, just a few feet away from where the nearest daggerthorn's parameter thorn shoots climbed up the grassy hillside. "That doorway leads to the rest of our campsite."

Next to the door there was a circle of stones that had obviously been regularly used as a fireplace. The door opened easily and led to a short tunnel that had been carved out of the rock and dirt that composed the steep side of the hill. The tunnel was braced with timbers like an old mine. It didn't extend very far into the hill before it turned to the left. Nor did it travel very far before it again turned to the left and opened into the clear space under the daggerthorn trees. The ground was dry, and covered with a thick pile of soft needles. The area under the whole cluster of the daggerthorns was remarkably open. Except for where the trunks of the individual trees descended from it, the underside of the canopy formed by their interwoven branches averaged nearly 15 feet above the ground.

The day's light was only just beginning to fade. Yet so little of it made it through the daggerthorn's foliage that Sam could barely see the wooden table and some chairs that were set up to one side of the entry tunnel. Sue quickly lit a small glass oil lamp that was on the table. By it's light Sam saw that the open space under the trees was irregularly shaped. The central area was mostly open except for the tree trunks. It also had a ceiling of thickly tangled branches that varied from ten to fifteen feet of overhead clearance. This extended across the width of the cleft where they could see it's thornpods wedged against the hillsides.

The overhead foliage of the outermost trees, however, angled downwards until it touched the ground at the front and back borders of the tree cluster.

Except for one area, just a little to one side of the center and about two thirds of the way towards the rear of the open area. Where the overhead branches angled down to less than four feet from the ground. At which point they wound around a few different looking tree trunks in a manner resembling a vines clinging grip. Some of the outer trees were also further away from the center than others. This, combined with the low ceiling around the few non-daggerthorn trees resulted in some semiprivate alcove like spaces, some of which had pillows and blankets in them. Sam also noticed that there were a few odds and ends of furniture scattered around central area.

"This camp must get used quite a bit," Sam commented. "Judging from the furnishings."

"Nah not really," Steve cheerfully explained. "We only get up this way once every two or three months." Then he noticed the puzzled look on Sam's face. "You see these daggerthorn trees are so good at scavenging moisture from the air, that nary a drop makes it through the branches. And there ain't many bugs as can stand the smell of all these daggerthorn needles scattered about the place."

As Steve said that, Jake walked over to a small wooden provisions cabinet. He picked up one of the few freshly fallen needles that had landed on top of it. Then he looked at the leather straps that served as hinges, as he brushed the few remaining needles off the cabinet. Then he peeked inside and noted that the contents consisted of a few jars of preserves, a sack of some course flour, and a couple of cast iron pans.

"You've noticed, haven't you Sam," Jake said. "That they take care not to let any of the fallen needles collect on anything made of metal?"

"Well I'd have expected that at least," Sam replied. "The database did mention that some catalyst in the needles turns the remains of the sap corrosive, when exposed to most metals for more than a couple of days. And I'm not so surprised as Steve here probably thinks I'd be, that wood and cloth don't trigger the same reaction." Sam noticed Jake smile and assume a facial expression that he'd learned to recognize during the shuttle flight to Slowlane. So he quickly continued speaking before Jake could open his mouth. "Actually I'm just surprised that nobody messes with this stuff. I mean aside from the fact that somebody could carefully lift up a few thornpods, that door didn't have anything like a lock on it."

"Now I don't know what people are like out where you come from Sam," Tom cut in sternly. "But here on Slowlane, we don't have many thieves. Oh I expect the prices some merchants will charge you if they think you don't have a choice about buying something, might seem like robbery right enough. But that's still not reaching out and taking somebody else's stuff."

"Besides Sam," Sue added. "While I expect you were just talking about the way a stray traveler would feel free to use up our supplies if he came across our camp. There aren't very many of those who would think to look up here to find it. So our stuff is pretty safe."

"Harrumph," Jake cleared his throat before beginning the explanation that Sam had been expecting. "I think I can shed a little light on what happens when these needles fall on anything metallic." Then after noticing that he had everyone's attention, Jake explained.

"You see, I've sent a few microscopic nano-pods into the cellular structure of a few of these trees, Jake said. As well as both the moist freshly fallen needles and the dry ones under foot. And while the moist nearly dead needles are almost as inert as the dry needles that slowly break down into a kind of soil that no other kind of plant can grow in. There is a catalyst that can cause the moist ones to ooze with a strong corrosive. That catalyst is actually a very specific compound that only has one natural source. And that is what the freshly dropped needles rapidly become if they in turn are exposed to another special catalytic agent that the daggerthorn tree sometimes injects into the still living needles just before they begin to fall off the tree. The fact that this only happens when a significant quantity of the existing moist dying needles build up on top of something metallic is significant. These coordinated changes in the daggerthorn's internal chemistry are why I say that these daggerthorn are closer to being sentient than any other plant in the guild's database."

"Sentient?" Sue incredulously interrupted as Jake paused for a moment. "Now I'll admit that the way these daggerthorns react to someone digging around their roots by suddenly sprouting thorn shoots all over the place, is somewhat provocative. But it's no more an indication of sentience than the fly catching ability of certain carnivorous plants."

"True enough," Jake recaptured command of the discussion. "That behavior could be a simple response to an external trigger. But the daggerthorn tree has to reach out with a little bit more awareness to realize that something metallic is preventing the microbes in the otherwise dead moist needles from returning to the soil. Thus it's more than a simple reaction to an external trigger, when it selectively fills dying needles with a catalyst that can only react with the fresh biological traces of those microbes when there are a significant quantity of them that haven't reacted to yet another specialized catalyst in the the fully dry needles."

"There's something else about them that I can't figure out," Jess interjected. "It seems to me that the daggerthorn practically invites people to shelter under it's canopy." He gestured at the large open area around them. "What with all this cozy warm open space and all."

"There's another reason to suspect some form of intelligence," Jake added. "You may have noticed how it nurtures the pear and oak trees over there. You may also have noticed that a variant of a red squirrel has adapted it's nesting habits to live in the daggerthorn branches. Where very few of it's natural predators can reach it. According to my data base, that particular squirrel has also developed a taste for the one type of caterpillar that managed to develop an immunity to the toxins in the daggerthorn's needles.

Anyway, I believe the reason the daggerthorn clusters like this one, like to cultivate a few specimens of certain fruit and nut trees is part of the symbiotic relationship it developed with the squirrels. Which are attracted to the fruit and nuts. That is symbiotic behavior. As it happens, I believe that the daggerthorn is also trying to develop a symbiotic relationship with the one species advanced enough to control the daggerthorn's chances of long term survival.

Unless I'm mistaken, daggerthorn clusters used to only consist of fewer trees per cluster. And generally had lower 'ceilings' until sometime after people started camping out under them." Jake shook his head. "No, about the only reason it's not obvious that these trees are thinking beings is because they don't have a centralized nervous system. So what intelligence they have, appears to be some kind of slow thinking gestalt."

Jake fell silent when he realized that none of the locals were willing to consider the possibility of a sentient plant. Especially not one that developed on their terraformed planet. That's when Ellen's voice carried through the dense foliage from outside.

"Excuse me Sue," she said. "Our supply of firewood is limited at the moment so before I light a cookfire I need to know if one of the boys is going to go hunting or if I'm working with the smoked meat?"

"I'll send Tom out Ellen," Sue quickly replied. "But it'll be dark soon so I can't promise he will catch anything worth eating."

"Actually if Tom and Jess here, were to forage for some firewood," Jake interjected. "I'll see if I can't bag something edible. After all, I don't need the light of day to find them."

"OK," Sue agreed. "We can do it that way. And while your gone, if Sam wouldn't mind fetching some water for Ellen's cook pots and maybe refilling the canteens, I'll bet Mary wouldn't mind giving Steve and I a hand tending to the horses."

Jess and Tom left to find some good firewood. Jess heard Tom grumbling to himself about camp life in general and decided to see if he could break the man out of his mood. He tried casual conversation first but eventually he resorted to challenging the man to a wood gathering contest.

"Tell you what," Jess said. "Since you find this task so distasteful, why don't you just sit your butt down and leave it all up to me?"

Tom didn't like gathering firewood any more than any other aspect of living on the trail. However, as Jess had astutely perceived, he was far too proud a ranch hand to like the idea of being outdone by an outworlder. Before long each had carried several large armfuls of firewood back to camp. Eventually Sue noticed the size of the two huge piles of wood they had made and called a halt to the proceedings.

"That's already more than we need boys," she said. "I think it's time you two called it a draw and broke that wood up into campfire sized pieces. Then stack them according to size a little nearer to the campfire ring. No sooner had they done so, then Jake returned carrying the carcasses of four large rabbits. Ellen quickly examined them.

"Thank you Jake," she said. "Since we're here at the daggerthorn camp, I've got a nice roasting rack and the fixings for a good batter. I've also still got a loaf of bread left and plenty of those garden vegetables I packed."

It was rather dark by the time they finished eating. Steve drew the first watch while the rest of them retired to the inside of the daggerthorn. Where Sam thought it was surprisingly warm and cozy. Jess, Mary, Ellen and Tom, had all spread their bedrolls in one of the larger 'alcoves'. The plan was that when it was time for Tom to take over the 'watch', Steve would climb into Tom's spot. Jake had also been invited.

"Actually I'd love to join you for a while. But I'm going to want to spend some time thinking tonight. So I'm going to put my bedroll over there." Jake had said, indicating with a gesture the far end of the tree cluster where there were a few small 'alcove' spaces. That were as far as possible from where the others had planned to cuddle. Almost as far but in the opposite direction, Sam and Sue were already cuddling, kissing, and slowly working themselves into a frenzy of desire, in a medium sized 'alcove'.

When Jake eventually excused himself from the others, he carried no light but depended on his nanite enhanced senses to find his way to the 'alcove' where his pack and bedroll was. He walked so quietly that the little red squirrel that was investigating his pack, never heard his approach. Jake didn't instruct his nanites to emit calming nano-pheromones until the moment his hand gently closed on it's body. As the squirrels heart rate slowed back down, Jake reached into the pack and withdrew the small paper wrapped packet of peanuts he had pocketed during the early part of their flight from Wildland.

He carefully opened the packet and made sure that the captive squirrel saw him pour out half it's contents on top of the bedroll he had just sat down on. Then while the squirrel watched he poured the rest of the peanuts into his mouth. When he was sure that his nano-pheromones had insured the critter's desire for the little pile of peanuts, was greater than it's remaining fear of him, Jake put it down next to the pile of nuts and slowly reclined. Then as he lay still he commanded his nanites to stop producing the nano-pheromones. The squirrel watched him for a few seconds. Then it started to stuff it's cheeks with peanuts. By the time it had secreted the last nut the effects of the nano-pheromones had faded. However even as the squirrel's heart rate had begun to rise, Jake's nanites reported that some other external influence had begun calming the rodent back down.

The Squirrel slowly climbed up the 'alcove's' tree trunk and soon found a spot to watch Jake from the branches that were over his head. Then the squirrel slowly wedged the peanuts into a couple of tight spots between the branches. Next it began to actually eat the peanuts one at a time. All the while calmly watching Jake as he slowly settled down to sleep.

Jake had planned on dozing lightly for about half an hour. Which would be more than enough sleep for his nanite enhanced metabolism. However he gradually fell into a deep slumber. Then the dreams began. In his dreams he was vaguely aware of his surroundings, though it didn't appear to be with his own senses. He could sense where his companions were and was strangely aware of the emotions that flowed through their minds. Jess, Tom and the girls had by this time fallen asleep. A fact that Jake was dimly aware of as he felt the lust that filled their dreams.

He also felt the beginnings of a deeper, less rational emotion flowing through the minds of both Sam and Sue. They too were sleeping, though they were still tightly wrapped around each other. In his dream state, Jake faintly felt Steve's impatience from outside the tree cluster as he waited for his watch to end. Jake felt his connection to Steve's emotions get stronger when he came inside to swap places with Tom. Then he felt Steve's lust double as it turned out that Mary was the first of the girls to respond to his touch. Jake felt his connection with Tom fade as he went outside. Though not so faded as to miss Toms distaste for camping outdoors surge to the foreground of his thoughts as he left the shelter for the chilly mountain air outside.

Jake's dreams lasted until his unexpectedly deep slumber faded, which was right after he felt Tom's presence as he entered the tree shelter to begin waking people to meet the new day. He felt both refreshed and yet somehow drained as he crawled out of his bedroll. As he gathered his things, Jake noticed that the squirrel was gone but right beside his pack he found a small pile of acorns. After a moment's hesitation he tucked most of them in his pack, but kept one acorn out. On impulse Jake cracked open the acorn and popped the nutmeat into his mouth. He knew that acorns usually tasted bitter. This one was no exception. Yet he found that he enjoyed it's flavor at least as much as he had enjoyed the peanuts last night.

As Jake went outside to see about a proper breakfast, he made up his mind that these daggerthorn trees should be more closely studied. He certainly had no intention of trying to explain that to his skeptical companions however.

"I'm glad you boys gathered more firewood than we needed last night," Sue commented while they were eating. "There won't be anything worth gathering at our next campsite. So I'd appreciate it if everyone would make room for some of it in your packs."

"Surely we won't need all of this," Steve complained. "We won't be in the badlands for more than one night after all."

While Steve loved the outdoors life, he never liked packing up more than he was sure to need.

"Now Steve," Tom reminded his younger coworker. "You know Sue likes to leave some extra firewood at the badlands camp. You never know when we might need it after all."

"Even so Tom," Ellen chided. "You and Jess here did gather so much wood that we'd need another pack horse or two to bring all of it with us. Whatever got into you two?" Jess and Tom just exchanged glances and chuckled.

They spent most of the day riding up a long and often treacherous trail as it wound it's way around or more often over, more than a few hills. Each hill being a little taller than the one before. As they gained altitude, the forest gradually changed to a dry rocky terrain. At least it appeared to usually be dry. A fact that would be hard to prove under the current weather conditions. It had started raining shortly after the one brief halt that Sue had allowed them.

It had quickly become a downpour. With an accompanying wind that at times gusted to the point where the rain was almost falling horizontally. The trees had also gradually given way to a sparse collection of bushes. The wind was finally fading away, as the sun began to set, when they reached the next campsite. Aside from the cave entrance, there wasn't much to look at.

There was an old painted cast iron pump with a wooden troth next to a few wooden hitching posts. That were located in front of an huge semi-rectangular slab of rock. Which was sitting on top of a collection of boulders. This provided a cavelike shelter that was open on two sides. One side of the slab was buried against of the exposed rocky ledge on the side of a large hill. The slab rested on some boulders. The largest of which provided a supporting wall adjacent to the side that was buried in the hillside.

At some point a small landslide had covered the back edge of the slab and one end of the large supporting boulder with rubble. One corner of the slab rested on a boulder that was smaller but taller than the big one that served as one of the back walls of the shelter. The slab tilted down towards the large boulder wall and was wedged at an angle into the side of the hill. There were several smaller boulders scattered underneath the slab providing it with enough support to stabilize the structure. There was enough headroom under the outer half of the slab for most men to to walk without having to duck their heads. There was even enough room at the outermost edge for the horses to take some shelter from the weather. The headroom was gradually reduced towards the back corner of the slab, where there was considerably less headroom. It was at this lowest point of the shelter that the entrance to an actual cave began.

Someone had cleared out the small stones and other rubble from the floor of the shelter and spread out some soft dry sand. The shelter would shield them from rain and some of the wind. Just inside the shelter, against the side of the tall boulder, there was a fireplace with an iron grill for cooking but there wasn't any firewood besides that which they had packed and the rain had gotten to that, along with the tender, kindling and matches. This would make it difficult to start a campfire. Steve did his best to set it up but the first several matches proved to be too damp. So he produced a piece of flint.

"I don't suppose anyone has a scrap of cloth or paper that's still dry enough to make this worth my time?" Steve asked.

Jake, who had stood next to the fireplace watching Steve's efforts with a bemused look on his face, answered immediately.

"Surely you jest!" Jake said.

This of course brought an immediate, though somewhat strained bit of laughter from everyone.

"Actually you won't need it," Jake added. "You've set up the damp wood and kindling so well that this will almost be like cheating."

With that said he produced the lighter that Steve Fontane had given him. He placed it next to the kindling and shot a jet of burning hydrogen into it. The small twigs fairly burst into flames and before long they had a roaring fire.

Ellen began the preparations for another stew. Sue took a quick inventory of what they had. Then noting that absolutely nothing was dry, she called for everyone's attention.

"As you know," she began. "We are all drenched to the skin. And while we have plenty of wood for a couple of cook fires, It's simply not enough to keep the fire lit all night. And it's going to get cold and damp tonight. So I think we need to use the fire while we have it to dry out some blankets. And of course ourselves. Which will work a lot better if we get out of our wet cloths. But since it doesn't seem like anyone has anything dry to put on... Well lets just say I'm glad nobody is too bashful to get naked in front of everybody else."

As soon as she stopped talking Sue began undressing. They were soon all sitting in a semicircle around the fire while Ellen whipped up a passable stew out of some of the smoked meat and the last of the vegetables she had brought from the ranch. Then she surprised them with a form of fresh sourdough biscuits that she had "baked" in a covered pot.

"I'm sorry," Ellen apologized. "But I'm afraid we're out of proper bread." Then she lifted the cover off the second cast iron pot. "I hope these will do."

Jake, who alone wasn't at all surprised, commented after eating his.

"The rolls are delicious Ellen," he said.

Sue, who along with Steve and Tom were only mildly surprised that the rolls they suspected she had in the covered pot were made from fresh sourdough, inquired.

"You didn't seam at all surprised Jake?" she asked.

"That's right Sue," he replied. "But with my enhanced senses I've been smelling that sourdough ferment since we left the ranch."

"So let that be a warning to all of you," Sam suddenly said. "Don't ever bother trying to hide anything from my boss. He sticks his nose into everything."

As he finished saying that, Sam managed to produce a loud, long and as they all soon discovered, pungent flatulence. Jake made exaggerated waving motions with his hands as if they might actually make enough of a breeze to affect the air quality. While he did so he countered Sam's assertion.

"But if that were true," Jake countered. "I'd have smelled that coming." Jake paused long enough to display an obviously contrived grimace. "Seriously though Sam. If you insist on modifying your nano-med packets to actually promote intestinal gas, I'm going to have to intervene."

Sam considered this for a moment.

"But that would be breaking your word about messing with my mind or body with your nanites, wouldn't it?" Sam asked.

"That depends," Jake retorted. "On how I intervene. There is, for example, nothing in that promise that would prevent me from sending a nano-pod to cling to your short hairs and ignite the next one. Of course your nano-meds could heal the damage, But not until after you've already found it a real pain in the ass."

"On a less aromatic subject," Jess spoke up. "I think it's high time we all bed down for the night."

"About us all bedding down Sue," Jake interjected. "I think your boys deserve the night off from guard duty. I'll be posting some nano-pods to scout the parameter anyway."

"Alright Jake, I guess that will do for tonight," Sue agreed. "Just be sure they know to look for the two biggest threats in these parts, wild dogs and poisonous snakes."

"By the way people," Sue added as an afterthought. "I suggest we all remember to get around to getting some sleep tonight. The trail from here to the bridge at Shiptown won't quite take all day. But it's got some treacherous spots. And it simply won't do for us to be groggy from lack of sleep."

Chapter 26 Surprise Attack

Cindy woke up refreshed. She pushed Stephanie out of bed with an impish grin. She was disappointed to see that Stephanie managed to land with her feet under her crouching form.

"You'll have to do better than that if you expect to catch me off balance," Stephanie said.

"Damn it! I miss Jake," Cindy replied. "He would have at least pretended that I caught him off guard. Oh well, I'm thinking of going shopping today. Want to come?"

Stephanie shook her head.

"Actually I promised Al that I'd spend some time with him today in the pool and/or jacuzzi today," Stephanie said. "Are you sure you don't want to join us?"

Cindy thought about it for a moment. Then she shook her head.

"Actually that is a tempting idea," Cindy acknowledged. "Especially if half what I've heard about his stamina is true. But I really want to hit a few shops. Maybe I'll join you later."

After Stephanie left, Cindy took a quick shower and got dressed. She decided on the brown and turquoise nano-leather outfit. Which Sam had designed to vaguely resemble a stylized version of something that a very nontraditional, 'wannabe' might imagine that a Native American teenager would wear. That is if she was wanton enough. It's main components were a short wrap around leather skirt with painted decorations, a leather vest festooned with rows of turquoise beads and a leather halter top with decorations matching the skirt. The outfit was completed by a pair of knee high boots laced up the sides and a shoulder bag that matched the vest.

Cindy went out through the kitchen door into the main roof's screen room. Then she took the ramp from the backside of the roof to the short path leading to the crest of the hill. The secure gate accepted her palm print and she quickly made her way to the upper parking lot. Where she had started keeping the modified jeep that Hillside provided her with. It's turbine engine quietly provided more than enough power for her to bounce along the unpaved private way at a speed that would have terrorized her just a few weeks ago. In all it took her nearly three quarters of an hour to drive to the shopping district of the small mountain community.

She parked her jeep in a public lot and began walking from one shop to another. She almost felt like she was being wasteful of Jake's new fortune. To spend over a hundred dollars on a pair of shoes that were only going to be destroyed to provide a template, for Sandra to replicate from nano-materials but then she recalled just how big his new bank account was. She didn't bother carrying packages from one store to the next. Instead she cheerfully paid extra to have all her items delivered to her at Hillside.

When she left the third shop, Cindy noticed that a tall man with short black hair, appeared to be following her. She looked around carefully when she left the fourth store but the tall man wasn't there. Cindy relaxed a little. She thought she might have lunch at a quaint looking seafood dinar she had noticed earlier. As she walked towards it however, she began to feel like she was being followed by a short blond man but he kept walking when she stepped inside the seafood joint. Cindy found her seafood lunch a little disappointing. She wanted fried clams but the menu clearly said clam strips. When she asked if they had any clams with the bellies intact, the clueless counter help didn't even seem to know they came that way. At this point she settled for the scallop plate. Which she decided tasted good, even if they were a bit tough.

When she was done eating she looked up and down the street but she didn't see either of the men that she had thought might be following her. Cindy decided that she was just being paranoid. Which wasn't too surprising, given the things that Sandra had told her. Nonetheless, she decided to cut her shopping trip short and headed for the jeep. She almost got there.

When she turned the corner she could see her jeep. It was parked right where she left it. On the near end of the public parking lot. There didn't appear to be anybody around as she approached the small cluster of parked vehicles. Then suddenly without warning the rear cargo door of the small rent-a-truck that was parked next to her jeep burst upwards. Two men jumped out and tried to grab hold of her.

The short blond man was slightly faster than his taller accomplice. He was taken completely by surprise when he found himself sailing through the air, landing in an awkward position on the hood of her jeep. The taller man had a split second warning that she wasn't as helpless as they had thought. He evidently also had some martial arts skill. As when she tried the same tactic with him, he was able to use his legs to rebound off the side of the jeep and aimed a vicious blow at Cindy's head. He wasn't prepared however for the speed with which she blocked his punch. Nor for the sudden impact of her compact fist as she countered with a blow that rendered the tall man unconscious before he hit the ground.

Suddenly her nano-tool interface issued a warning that almost came to late for her to snap on an energy-shield. The short blond was pointing a small multi-beam weapon at her. The look of surprise on his face as he realized that the neuro-stun had failed to render her unconscious was, in Cindy's opinion, 'priceless'.

Her blond opponent decided to retreat. Cindy started to pursue him but after a short distance she thought better of it. So she returned to her jeep. At which point she noticed that the tall man was gone. She decided to return to Hillside and talk to Sandra about the attack. Cindy climbed into her jeep and started back. Twenty minutes later, she had almost reached the dirt road that led to the back gate. When she found the road suddenly blocked by a fallen tree. That's when she saw the rented truck rapidly approaching from behind.

That was also when her nano-tool interface warned her of a high energy field emanating from a spot just beside the road. She jumped out of the jeep on the opposite side just in time. Her defensive screen would probably have prevented the high intensity shockwave that hit her jeep from killing her but it's not likely that she would have remained conscious. Without wasting any time, Cindy ducked into the woods behind her and began a cross country run towards Hillside.

As she ran, Cindy activated a stealth device. Which should confound most remote sensor systems. Then she began a zigzag course that took advantage of the natural cover. Before long however she became aware of rapid pursuit by something that had no trouble following her path.

This in spite of the fact that the stealth device she had activated used a small army of dedicated purpose nanites that absorbed the molecules of her scent and dampened the sounds of her passage. As well as disrupting any remote sensor signals. Additionally, her path should even be obscured from the unlikely pursuer that could detect the nanites themselves. Because rather than leaving a trail of them behind her, they emanated in all directions from the spot where she had activated the device.

In fact Sandra had told her that even a questor would have to work at it to track her. She moved as quickly as she could without breaking cover. Which, as a Sister of Rebirth, was actually quite fast but not fast enough. She felt something slam into her back as a pair of hairy arms griped her like a vice. Her attacker clung to her as they both tumbled to the ground. She tried her best to dislodge it but she could not.

She felt it's hot breath on the back of her neck as it's hands wrapped around her neck and began to choke her. She could hear footsteps and a soft beeping sound approaching as she fought to remain conscious. Her vision was beginning to cloud over when she saw the tall man and his blond accomplice enter the clearing. Before her vision faded out completely however, she saw the expressions on their faces change from a form of gloated satisfaction to sudden alarm. As a broad shouldered naked black man burst into view and took them both down with a flying tackle.

At the same time she felt the grip on her throat suddenly loosen and fall away. She woke a few moments later just in time to see Stephanie pulling her staff out of the dead body of an apelike creature. Her staff had impaled the creature. Entering it's body through it's anus, and continued up it's now smoking body until it burst through the top of the creatures skull.

"What the hell is that thing?" Cindy asked.

As the creature's body began to rapidly dissolve, Cindy noticed that Stephanie was just as naked as the well endowed man who she now recognized as Al.

"That abomination was a nano-whiffer beast," Stephanie spat out venomously. "Whiffer beasts were genetically engineered by the old guild to track down those they deemed to be criminals. Then when the cybernoids took over, they used to enhance them with a specialized form of nanite designed to help them locate nanite enhanced quarry, such as those who eventually became the questors of the new guild. Since then, some of the very worst kind of intergalactic bounty hunters have begun to use them.

But I'm afraid this is something far worse than that. You see the nanites my staff pumped into that beast should have been able to stop it's own nanites from destroying the evidence. Unless of course they were up against guild nanites. And even then they should have been able to report that they were losing the fight. Since they failed to do even that, I have to conclude that the nanites in that creature were actually supplied by a questor."

"I'm afraid that Tweedledee and Tweedledum here won't be telling us much either," Al spoke up as the Hillside armed security breach response team arrived.

When Cindy looked up she saw smoke escaping from the ears and other orifices in the heads of both men.

"It seems they also had some kind of destruct mechanism," Al continued. "Whoever was really behind this abduction attempt wants to stay anonymous."

"That's my assessment also commander Eastman," one of the black uniformed guards responded. "Team two reports that the attackers didn't leave any useful clues at the remains of Miss Kincade's jeep. They are commencing cleanup operations now. Nice uniform by the way."

"Yeah well I was engaged in an off duty recreational activity when my playmate detected the problem and came running," Al replied. "It's a good thing we didn't stop to dress or we'd have been too late."

"I'm not sure how you got here before we did," the armed guard responded. "We had to track those two from where Miss Kincade ran into the woods to get here. I don't believe you came that way. Care to tell us how you located her?"

"I tracked the same two idiots remotely," Stephanie interjected. "Then it was a simple matter of plotting an intercept course."

"I might have known you'd have something to do with it Miss Zigman," the guard replied. "I don't suppose you'll ever tell me how you did that with the equipment you brought with you. So I won't ask. Though I'd like to mention that I like your uniform a lot better than Al's.

Now however, if Miss Kincade isn't in need of medical attention. Would you two mind escorting her safely back to Hillside. So we can commence cleanup operations here."

"Who the heck were those guys?" Cindy asked as she followed Al and Stephanie back to Hillside.

"Their part of an elite organization that provides certain perimeter security services for Hillside and several Micronic Enterprises locations," Al explained. "Under normal circumstances you'd never know they were there. They can be trusted to keep our secrets and to help keep us out of the evening news by cleaning up incidents like this. Even so, they don't know that any of us actually came from another planet. Nor anything about the underground base. So don't tell them."

"Don't worry, I won't tell them a thing," Cindy said. "Though I'd like to know why he called you a commander Al?"

"If you must know, my brother and I are part time security officers at Hillside," Al replied. "We are also liaison officers to the perimeter security teams that surround Hillside. We are usually the ones to give them their marching orders and to tell them who not to pester for hanging around the perimeter."

"Thank you two for running to my rescue by the way," Cindy said. "But how did you know I was in trouble anyway? And come to think of it, why were you so naked when you got here"

"Actually I planted one of Sandra's nano-toys on that jeep when it was first assigned to you Cindy," Stephanie explained. "It was part of a matched resonance tracking device system. The other half of the device, which was in my staff, went nuts when that shockwave weapon trashed the jeep. Fortunately Al and I were busy sexercising with a rope tether in the side yard at the time. So the fastest way for us to come running was to use the rest of the rope to scale the hill. Then we hopped the fence and made a beeline through the woods to get to you."

***

"So much for secrecy," Sandra began, with a shake of her head. "Still this is why I offered you the nano-enhancements in the first place. I wish I could be sure if Steve or for that mater Jake, now that he's taken command of Hillside, will let me continue to supply you with them. But you may as well tell Jake about it when he gets back. It's not likely that your immunity to that neuro-stun beam will go unnoticed by whoever sent those thugs. And while the way you defended yourself in town could be written off as just martial arts skill. The way you evaded the vibro-shock weapon and the distance you covered before that damn whiffer beast caught up with you will be more than enough to convince them that you must have advanced nano-toys at your disposal.

I doubt they will underestimate your defensive capability again."

"Maybe not," began Cindy. "Don't forget none of my attackers survived to report such things."

"I wish that was the case Cindy," Sandra said as she shook her head again. "But someone had to fell that tree and fire that shockwave weapon. And it couldn't have been one of those two jerks. They were behind you in the van. Besides, neither of them could have been the whiffer beast's handler. Or you wouldn't have made it out of town."

"Yeah..." Cindy replied. "And there I was feeling proud of myself for being good enough to join the Sisterhood of Rebirth. If Al and Stephanie hadn't come running to help me, I wouldn't be here anymore."

"Oh stop it!" Sandra retorted. "You have every right to be proud of that. I've had a few dealings with Kernislarn. And believe me she isn't easy to impress. Now as far as being caught and overpowered by a whiffer beast goes, you did well to keep ahead of it as long as you did. Ask Kernislarn about whiffer beasts sometime. I expect she'll tell you the same thing."

"OK," Cindy conceded. "Maybe I didn't do as bad as it feels like. But one thing is for sure, Jake's new world is even more dangerous than I thought. If I'm going to be anything more than just a liability, I need to get stronger, faster or at least smarter... So I guess I'm thinking I'd like you to dust off one of your VR chambers, and set me up with some aggressive training sessions."

"If your sure, how about first thing in the morning?" Sandra asked.

"What's wrong with tonight?" was Cindy's immediate reply.

"Nothing!" Sandra replied. "It'll take me a couple hours to set it up though. Do you want to come back, or..."

"No!" Cindy exclaimed. "I'll wait right here. I can spend the time working with that tutor program you set me up with. I think my next lesson is on guild space ship designs."

Even as she spoke Cindy produced her current pocketbook terminal and activated the tutor. Sandra watched her for a moment with a look of concern on her face. She hoped her new friend wasn't biting off more than she could chew but there was only one way to find out. So she returned to her desk and began setting up a training session.

"Are you ready Cindy?" Sandra suddenly asked.

Cindy looked up from the desktop terminal. To which she had eventually transferred her tutor session because of the higher graphics resolution of it's bigger screen.

"I guess I am Sandra," she said. "But first, would you mind telling me something?"

"If I can," Sandra replied looking at the screen full of space ship design schematics that Cindy had been studying. "But that looks more like Jess's field of expertise than mine."

"Yeah, but Jess is off planet with Jake and Sam," Cindy said with a smile. "And this isn't exactly part of the official lesson. So my tutor program doesn't seem to understand my question.

I was looking at several guild designs for both short and long range space ships, when I noticed something about some of the really long range ones. You know the ones with the so called guild stardrive that simulate a wormhole by inverting the effect of the time dilation imposed by approaching the speed of light." Cindy paused for a moment.

"Yes, I know the type you mean," Sandra prompted. "Like Steve's personal shuttle. What did you notice?"

"Well first of all, virtually all of them use gravitational-optimizers for their primary drive systems," Cindy explained. "Something about it being the most efficient method. Yet many of the short range designs use a variant of it to power a particle based transduction thruster system."

"That's because the linear thrust provided by the particle thrusters, is easier to control under certain circumstances like the critical insertion phase of a fringe effect drive like the one used by the shuttle Jake's training on," Sandra interrupted.

"Yeah," Cindy continued. "That's what the tutor said about it. But it didn't seem to understand me when I asked why it is that, all the really big long range ships seem to be equipped with really big particle transduction thruster systems.

It just spouts technical details on how the gravitational-optimizer systems are more efficient..."

Sandra looked amused as she considered her reply.

"Well I'm not really surprised that I didn't think to include 'that' in the tutor program's database,"Sandra explained. "But if you think about the sheer mass of the bigger ships, I'm betting you can work it out."

"The mass?" Cindy sputtered. "But you'd have to overcome that either way." Suddenly, a smug look of satisfaction crossed Cindy's face. "Wait a minute. Those ships are so big that they would have to be using their optimizers to reduce their own gravitational pull's effect on the local star system to avoid disrupting the orbital stability of it's planets.

So I'm thinking they would have to use nothing but very long range gravitational optimizations for thrust. And that just wouldn't be very efficient for rapid changes in velocity now would it?"

"See, I told you that you'd work it out," Sandra said with a smile. "But now it's time to head for my new VR lab. That is if your still up for this." Cindy quickly logged out of her tutor's database, and stood up.

"Let's go then!" was all she said.

Chapter 27 A Call For Help & A Frantic Reunion

Two days after he had seen the strange light in the sky, Darg reached the peak of Sailbird mountain. Then with the help of his crystal disk he saw that some of the fishermen's villages along the big lake's shores, were in smoking ruins. What villages he could see that hadn't burned down, looked abandoned.

Now, Darg was more frightened than he had ever been in his life. So he began a journey to a certain river valley further to the north. It wasn't until the third day that he found sign of a wild fleetfoot. It took another day, to catch and master it. Then it took him four exhausting days of hard riding, to reach the beginning of a little known trail that lead up the side of Thunderhead mountain. From which trail he turned onto a seemingly dead end path. Which in turn would lead to an overview of the Risp. Which was a small mountainside lake on the eastern side of the mountain.

This path was too steep and irregular, to make riding a fleetfoot up it a wise thing to do. So he let the fleetfoot get away and spent half a day reaching a point somewhat short of the overview.

Here he had to search carefully to find the hidden entrance to the cave where the old mage had given him his crystal disk. Then it took some more searching within the cave to find the loose rock in the wall. Which when pushed and twisted caused a large section of the wall to slowly swing inwards. Revealing a hidden tunnel that was obviously not natural. He lit the first of several grease smeared grass torches, that he had made during his journey. He shouldered his pack and pushed the door closed behind him. Then he descended down the long stair filled tunnel until he eventually reached the large damp cave. Which was hidden behind one of the waterfalls, that poured out of the Risp.

In the middle of this room there was a small stone pedestal with a round depression, into which his crystal disk fit snugly. Once the disk was seated Darg settled down to wait. He wasn't quite sure how long he would have to wait but the old mage had said something about a long journey. So he laid out his sleeping fur and made himself as comfortable as possible. While he waited he tried to decide if he still believed in any deity enough to pray. By the time the crystal disk had begun to glow with a faint blue light he had decided that he truly didn't. Nonetheless he had prayed anyway.

***

Sue had suggested that everyone get some sleep. Though nobody expected that to happen until after some serious sex. Still before long the only ones still awake were Jake, who's nanites could keep him awake and fatigue free for weeks at a time, Sam and Sue herself.

She was really enjoying the quiet conversation she'd been having with Sam as they cuddled for warmth under their still somewhat damp blanket but she eventually put her finger up to Sam's mouth and whispered.

"Shsssh, I hate to say this," Sue explained. "But we need to shut up and get some sleep."

Sam had also been enjoying the conversation more than he had realized until he feared it might be over. So he quickly whispered back.

"Actually we don't really need to." Sam alleged.

"I said we can't afford to be groggy on the trail tomorrow and I meant it," Sue insisted.

"Trust me," Sam said as he produced two nano-med packets. "With these we could stay fresh and alert for three or four days without sleep. And I really don't want this to stop. I don't know when or if we'll ever get another chance to talk."

Sue was puzzled for a moment. Then she realized what they must be.

"Nano-meds?" she asked. Sam just nodded. "Well I suppose they could do that alright," she continued. "But if they're of sufficient quality to do that, then they're much too expensive to..."

Sam held his finger up to her mouth.

"Trust me," Sam repeated.

Sue was flabbergasted. As a prime, she could get high quality nano-meds if she really needed them. Though one dose of anything so 'high grade' as to be capable of letting them skip a couple of nights sleep without getting fatigued, would have cost her the equivalent of nearly a third of the livestock on her ranch. Yet this man was willing to spend two doses just to talk with her a little longer. She was about to categorically refuse when she remembered that Sam worked for Jake who was practically a questor of the Cosmic Sailors Guild. So maybe he was actually rich enough to afford it. Besides she really didn't want the conversation to end either.

"How?" Sue asked.

Sam smiled and popped one of the small pouches into his mouth. A moment later he opened his mouth and showed her that it was empty. Sue opened her mouth, and Sam gently put the packet inside. She closed her mouth expecting to have to swallow or maybe even chew the dang thing but to her surprise, she felt it dissolve and disappear. For the next several seconds she felt several strange sensations. All of them felt good.

She suddenly felt warm and refreshed. Then she realized that she was once again horny but Sam wouldn't have it.

"We can do more of that later," he said. "Like while Ellen is fixing breakfast. What I really want is more of this private conversation."

"You do realize that I've been listening, right Sam?" Jake's voice suddenly spoke from a nano-pod in Sam's ear."

"Though of course I suppose technically somebody 'could' be listening even now," Sam admitted as he continued to talk for Sue's benefit. "But somehow, if everyone was awake, we wouldn't get to say the same things... Am I making sense?"

"It kinda makes sense to me," Sue said. "At least I don't want to stop talking with you."

"OK I'll enhance everyone else's slumber for a short while," Jake's voice promised. "Will that do?"

Sam answered them both with an emphatic, "Works for me!"

Sue however suggested that they would have a little more privacy in the cave itself. Sam didn't argue, so she led the way inside the cramped passage. Soon Sam noticed that the floor was a combination of solid stone and fine gravel. With the gravel in an unusually straight narrow path. Sue anticipated the question Sam was about to ask and told him that the gravel strip had in fact been manually installed. She said that it concealed the pipes that ran from the pump outside to a small underground stream below. The air in the cramped passageway was damp and a little chilly but they cuddled close, keeping each other warm, while they spent the rest of the night talking.

The rain had stopped a little before sunrise. So since the morning air felt pleasantly warm nobody bothered to get dressed right away. Jake used his lighter to ignite the morning cookfire. Then as Ellen began fixing some flatbread with a batter she cajoled into existence from the soggy mess the rain had made of the flour, Sam gently pushed Sue up against a small boulder near the fire so that she was bent over. Then he proceeded to take her from behind.

"Ah your all welcome to enjoy the show," Sam proclaimed loudly as he drove his snake home. "In fact I'd like Sue here to learn how exciting it can be to actually make a show out of having sex. So please, do stare."

Which of course they did. Before long everyone else was putting on shows of their own. In fact the flatbread would have been burned to a crisp if Sam and Sue, who had started first, hadn't finished. Because then they noticed the bread and pulled it off the fire.

Later as they were getting the horses ready to travel, Jake found a moment to talk privately with Sue.

"You know Sue," he said. "Sam seems quite taken with you."

"Well it's certain he enjoys having sex with me," Sue replied.

"True enough," said Jake. "But believe me that's not it. He gets more opportunities for sex than you might imagine. But not even for a chance to get it on with my Cindy, would Sam have spent two whole packets of his precious nano-meds."

Sue just looked thoughtful for a moment. Which was long enough for Jake to resume speaking.

"Don't get me wrong," Jake informed her. "He can get more. But he prides himself on not using much of them. For Sam to spend two packets in the same week, would be remarkable. To spend them in the same hour, just to keep the conversation going, well..."

Sue began to blush as she realized how much of last night's conversation Jake had probably listened to. Jake shrugged and walked away.

Their trail continued to climb uphill for most of the morning. The landscape had also become progressively more baron. The combination of sparse rainfall and the poor quality of the shallow soil eventually made it difficult for even itchweed plants to prosper. That all changed when they crested a ridge at the edge of a wide deep valley. It was immediately obvious that this valley got more rain and had much better soil than the other side of the ridge. Their path now led downhill. It was at first rather steep and so treacherous in places that they had to dismount and lead the horses. Before long though, their path became wider and less steep as it wound it's way down into the heavily wooded valley.

It was midafternoon when the trail merged with a gravel road. Half an hour later they reached a crossroads with a paved roadway. Sue called a halt. She pointed to the left, where a bridge could be seen a short distance away. The bridge looked fairly new. It was of a sufficiently advanced design, that it looked out of place in this rustic setting. From their vantage point they could see that there were two levels of bridge spanning the river. There were three pylons holding the bridge up. The most massive of these was in the middle, and rested on a small island in the middle of a wide river. The upper level was stoutly built, paved and wide enough for a wagon or motor car to cross in opposite directions at the same time. It was also level with the paved road. Just below the main level there was another. It was neither as wide, nor as stoutly built.

"A short distance from the bridge there is a path leading to the lower pedestrian level," Sue explained. "There's a pedestrian pathway and two bicycle lanes. Since you'll be on foot, you want the middle path. Now if you look closely at the central pylon, you will see a stairway leading down to prime Miller's island estate. Or rather to the public picnic area there. But there is a gateway in the fence right next to the pylon. There you will find a pull rope. It rings a bell that let's the Millers know they have company."

Jake held up his hand to stop Sue from explaining further.

"Are you sure," he asked. "That you don't want us to help you bring the horses the rest of the way?" Sue shook her head and pointed down the gravel way. "It's not much more than an hours easy ride that way. And on a road like this, we won't have any trouble leading three horses each. I'd rather that the four tired horses we're gonna ride on the way back this evening, didn't have to carry double back to the bridge. Besides if we've no reason to come all the way back here, there's another trail that'll save us half an hour."

"OK," Jake replied. "You win. May I assume, by the way, that we'd be welcome to drop in on you at the ranch the next time we're in the neighborhood?"

"Certainly," Sue replied. "Especially if you bring Sam." she added with a smile. "Speaking of which..."

She stepped up to Sam and gave him a big hug.

"I guess this really is goodbye Sam," Sue whispered in his ear. "I don't know if we will get to see each other again or not. I sure hope we do. But in case we don't, here's something to remember me by."

That said, she gave Sam a kiss so intense that after a while Jess couldn't contain himself.

"I think that's about enough of that now," Jess butted in. "Or would you be wanting me to spread out a blanket on the side of the road here?" Sue giggled as she came up for air.

"Actually I think I would probably like that Jess," she admitted. "Unfortunately I haven't the time for it right now... Don't forget me Sam."

"Never would I forget you my dear Sue," Sam replied. "Of that you can be sure." Less than half an hour later they were walking across the bridge.

"So Jess", Sam asked. "Is the bridge the same as you remember it?"

"Actually Sam," Jess replied. "The bridge is new to me. Last time I was here we had to take a ferry."

The pedestrian path was 4 feet wide. It's surface consisted of a metal grillwork through which you could see the water below. The bicycle lanes on either side of them were each only 3 and a half feet wide. There were handrails separating the three lanes of the bridges underdeck. They were composed of 12 foot sections with a 3 foot gap in between them. The hand rail sections were aligned in an alternating pattern that resulted in each gap occurring at the midpoint of the opposite handrail. The far side of the bicycle pathways each had a continuous tall fence that was obviously designed to prevent anyone from falling over the edge. Jess pointed at the grillwork they were walking on.

"You noticed, didn't you," Jess said to no one in particular. "That the grillwork under our feet has rectangular openings aligned in the direction of the walkway." Then he pointed at one of the bicycle lanes. "While the grillwork beside us," he continued, "is aligned in a diamond grid pattern."

"Of course it is," Mary tittered. "The bicycle grid is engineered to cause the bicycle tires to roll smoothly in just one direction. If you look close you can see a slight angle to the metalwork of the gridwork."

"Well that explains why the one on the left looks slightly different from the one on the right," Jess replied. "I take it that was to discourage bicyclists from going the wrong way?"

"That's right," Mary confirmed. "Actually it's a fairly new concept. And frankly I have no idea why it was built into a rural bridge like this one. Except to say that prime Miller must have had something to do with it. It was he that funded the construction of the bridge about forty years ago."

As they approached the central pylon, all three lanes became wider. Especially the central pedestrian path which more than doubled in width before another handrail divided it in half. The central handrail became a wedge, that guided them away from a center support column. There was one such column located at either end of a large open space in the center of the massive pylon. The grillwork below their feet was replaced with a solid concrete floor. On either side of the bicycle paths there were bicycle racks. There were about a dozen bicycles held upright by the racks. Just past the first central column, the twin pedestrian paths were joined by a side path. Off of which a concrete staircase descended to a small landing below. The landing turned out to be a sort of corridor that ran at a ninety degree angle to the bridge.

Most of it's length was open on one side except for a fence. The fence stopped four feet before the corridor did. There the corridor opened to the top of a metal grillwork staircase that hugged the side of the big pylon as it descended to the island below. The island appeared to be a mixture of grassy fields and woods. There was a tall fence segregating the mostly open grassy picnic area on one side of the bridge pylon, from the larger more wooded private section of the island.

"That almost looks like a standard chain link fence except that the links look like they're made from individual rings," Sam remarked. "You know like medieval chain mail."

"Well how else would you make a chain link fence?" Mary asked.

"On Sam's Earth, somebody devised a way of interlinking a series of custom bent metal rods forming a chain like fencing material," Jess interjected. "Without having to weld each link shut. Which of course made it cheaper to mass produce than the gridwork panel fencing that I've usually seen used here on Slowlane whenever wood wasn't suitable."

"The rings of this chain mail fencing appear to have been fused together individually," Jake interjected. "Perhaps using the tools of a blacksmith. It must have been rather expensive."

"To be sure," Mary replied, "Only a very successful prime would consider using it on such a scale."

Jake nodded and pointed at a large ornate cast iron gate abutting the pylon. On the side of the pylon next to the gate there was a bronze plaque that read. 'Private estate of prime David Miller. For access, please pull rope.' Next to the plaque there was a heavy rope that vanished into a hole in the side of the pylon. Jake pulled on the rope. It moved easily for about a foot before it suddenly stopped and was abruptly pulled back as a deep resonant chime sounded from somewhere inside the pylon. A few seconds later there was a soft metallic scraping sound from where the gates latch mechanism was mounted on the pylon. Then the gate was suddenly slightly ajar.

"I take that as an invitation," Jake said as he pushed the gate open.

It swung silently on well lubricated hinges. The gate was carefully balanced so that gravity would serve to close it. Yet it took very little strength to push or hold it open. As soon as they were all inside, Jake released his hold on the gate and it began to slowly swing shut. As it closed it's momentum gradually increased just enough for it to reengage the latch mechanism. They began walking along the wide flagstone path that led from the gate.

They hadn't gone very far when suddenly a bleary eyed Arnold Hunter ran up to to them. When he reached them he grabbed his wife in a bear hug, without remembering to stop running first. Both of them tumbled to the ground. Arnold was babbling incoherently. The only words they could recognize were, "It's you Mary! It's really you!" Which he kept repeating over and over, in between alternating between gut wrenching sobs of sorrow and hysterical laughter.

A few moments later a tall middle aged man with black hair, woolly sideburns and a thin mustache, approached on a bicycle. Jess recognized him from a previous visit.

"Hello David," Jess began, as the man came to a stop. Then he continued with appropriate gestures. "May I introduce my associate Sam Davidson. My new boss Jake Peterson. And I gather you know the Hunters... Boys, this is prime, David Miller. Who I hope can shed some light on what's wrong with Arnold here?"

David looked thoughtful for a moment.

"I'm now thinking that you weren't actually on the Scuttlebutt when she exploded the night before last," he said.

"The Scuttlebutt exploded?" Jess exclaimed. "Wasn't that the sternwheeler we almost sailed up the river on Jake?"

Jake didn't say anything he seamed lost in thought. So David replied.

"Well it certainly was the one you were all supposed to be on," David explained. "And yes it exploded. Shortly after which Arnold arrived in a sleek military recon shuttle. He landed directly on my island in the desperate hope, that by some miracle beyond his understanding, Mary was already here when the Scuttlebutt exploded. He'd already confirmed that the blast was so powerful that it nearly doubled the width of a section of the river. Which of course means that the water is now spread out there. Making the overall depth a bit too shallow for most of the big high capacity riverboats. And at the same time it tore up the bottom in such a way as as to make for some strong eddies that make it too dangerous for most of the small ones. They say it will be a several months before the engineers can repair the damage well enough. To make it safe for the majority of the river traffic that Shiptown depends on for it's livelihood."

"If the blast was as big as you described, it could not have been an accident," Jake said. "And I doubt it's a coincidence that it was the ship we paid the passage on. If I hadn't decided to let people think we were on that ship this wouldn't have happened. So if your government will allow me to bring my ship down from Luna base, It's got enough power to restore the river in less than a day."

"And what would you want in payment for this?" David asked.

"Nothing!" Jake replied. "Call it a gesture of good will."

"A most generous offer," David conceded. "But I'm quite sure they won't authorize it. My government doesn't trust offworlders enough to allow that. In fact, if you convince them that your ship is that powerful, They will most likely demand that you remove it from our solar system altogether."

"But surely they realize," Jake protested. "That most guild ships have that kind of power."

"Well that depends," David explained. "I'm sure most of our science primes are aware of that. But I'm afraid that most of the political primes simply don't believe it." David nodded at Arnold, who had finally stopped babbling. "I think perhaps I should escort our friend here back to the house. Where he can rest until he's fully recovered. We can, if you like, continue our discussion in my private study."

David left his bicycle beside the path and walked along beside Arnold. He gently guided the distraught man by his left elbow. For his part, the only thing Arnold seemed aware of, was the grip he had on Mary's hand who walked along on his right. The path went around a tall tree covered hill. Which had concealed the house from the view of the island they'd had from the bridge. The house was actually a complex underground structure, with several sections covered by a series of relatively small transparent domes.

Each dome covered a ring shaped garden and a ground level doorway that opened to a short hall like tube with a second door leading to the greenhouse area and a staircase leading down into the dwelling space below. In the center of each of the ring shaped gardens, there was an inner dome covering a circular opening in the ground. Each of the circular openings served as a form of skylight over one of the many common areas in the underground complex. In a circle around the common areas there were a number of underground rooms which used a periscope like device located over the interior doorways to capture a live view at an angle through the transparent domes above and which was normally displayed on viewscreens located on the outer walls. This provided the illusion of having real windows in the otherwise potentially claustrophobic underground rooms.

The door the main path led to wasn't located in the side of any of the domes however. Instead it lead to a large ornate wooden door that was located about ten feet below the average ground level at the domes. This door was set in what looked like the front of a log cabin built into the side of a low hill. It opened on a large foyer of sorts that was furnished with rough hewn wooden benches and tables. The wide blue translucent door at the far end of the foyer, opened onto the junction of three very modern looking corridors. The central corridor proceeded straight in until it opened into a lounge like area under one of the domes. The other two corridors were offset at forty five degree angles from the central corridor.

As they passed through the outer foyer the translucent door was opened by a tall middle aged woman with shoulder length brown hair. She had the appearance of a strong, kindly woman. Her body didn't have many curves but her face had obviously once been stunningly beautiful.

"Hello Jess," she said. "I'm glad to see your alive after all." She seemed to be about to say more but David cut her off.

"I'm sorry Judith," he said. "But I'm afraid the introductions will have to wait. Right now I need you to take Arnold." David paused as he glanced meaningfully at the unwavering grip Arnold had on Mary's hand. "And his wife someplace quiet. See that they want for nothing."

Judith, blushed slightly but there wasn't any hesitation. She took hold of Arnold's other hand.

"Please follow me to the west lounge," She said as she guided the Hunters down left hand corridor.

"My study is this way," David informed the rest of them as he led the way down the right hand corridor.

The corridor soon split again into three. Except for the one that continued straight on to what looked like a kitchen. The new corridors were slightly smaller and had the more homelike appearance of somewhat rustic hallways. Once again, David led them down the right hand branch. This led to a domed room with a scattering of chairs and eight short aisles lined with book shelves radiating from it like the spokes of a wheel. There were also three closed doors. Two of them were at right angles from the corridor they had entered from. The third door was directly across from it. It was this door that David approached and placed the palm of his hand against.

"Access granted," a computerized voice said after a brief pause.

There was a loud click and the door swung open.

"My anti-eavesdropping device is engaged," David said, when the door closed behind them. "We can speak freely."

"Well then Mr Miller, my name is Jake," Jake spoke up. "I'm not exactly a questor. At least not yet. But the one that accompanied Jess here last time calls me his apprentice. Jess told me that we, at Hillside, haven't spoken with you for a little over fifty galactic standard years. And that making contact with you would be good practice for me. But I'm beginning to think I shouldn't have come.

Someone on Slowlane doesn't like us. They tried to hijack the aircraft we flew in from the spaceport. And now they've blown up a river boat. No doubt killing over a hundred people in the process."

"Closer to two hundred and fifty," replied David. "If you count the two smaller boats that were in the same part of the river and the two dozen people who happened to be on the wrong part of the riverbank. But by the way, It's 'prime' Miller. Or you can just call me David, but it's 'NOT' Mr..."

"Sorry, I don't mean to offend," Jake explained. "I'm still not quite used to your unusual social structure here on Slowlane."

"Oh I'm not offended Jake," David responded with a chuckle. "But I note that it's a mistake your master wouldn't have made."

There was an edge in Jake's voice when he protested.

"It's true enough that Questor wouldn't have goofed on the proper honorific. But he is by no means my master!"

"Then it is my turn to say I'm sorry," David said, looking somewhat puzzled. "But I was sure that the traditional guild terms for it was apprentice and master. Perhaps my research is out of date. Has the nomenclature changed in the past hundred years?" Jake's demeanor softened slightly.

"No, your not actually wrong about the traditional terminology," Jake explained. "I am however, an unusual questor's apprentice. For one thing, I've accepted no man as my master."

David considered asking for a more detailed explanation but he remained silent. Jake's nanites detected the intensity of David's curiosity but he decided to change the subject.

"I'm afraid this is going to have to be a short visit David," Jake explained. "I hate to let my enemies force me to leave Slowlane before I'm ready to go. But it's obvious that they are willing to kill lots of innocent bystanders to get rid of us. And I don't think my reasons for being here are worth any more lives. So I'm afraid I need to make arrangements for an immediate departure."

"I'm sorry to hear that Jake," David replied. "I was looking forward to a few days of stimulating discussion. And I'm quite sure that Judith was hoping to spend some time with Jess here. But I can't disagree with your reason for cutting this visit short. However it's unlikely that you will be able to depart tonight. And it will be easier to make those arrangements in the morning. Until then, I think it would be wise not to advertise your pending departure. Perhaps that way they won't have enough time to plan an attack on the available transportation."

"That sounds reasonable enough," Jake agreed.

By this time, Jake realized that he was beginning to like and trust this David. So he decided to confide in him.

"Incidentally my, ahh, 'mentor's' files speak quite highly of you David," Jake began. "And more importantly my own assessment tends to agree with him. So If you'll keep it in confidence I'll enlighten you about some of the circumstances of my unusual apprenticeship." Prime Miller razed an eyebrow slightly.

"Well I'll admit you've got me curious," he said. "So very well I'll consider whatever your going to tell me as confidential." Then noting the look on Jess's face he added, "However I'm not so sure Jess thinks such a disclosure is warranted."

"Oh, it's his business who he explains himself to David," Jess interjected. "It's just that I got the impression that he was about to explain more to you than he's yet told some of his closest associates."

"True enough," Jake began. "But like Jess said, it is my business who I trust with this and when I do so. You see, I'm an apprentice to a questor of the guild. But I'm not formally a guild member. At least not yet. You see I was injured trying to save the Questor's life. So he in turn saved mine. There weren't any available nano-meds to heal my wounds with. And there wasn't much time. I'm alive only because he reached out with some of his own personal nanites to heal me. And then, as it happened, they elected to stay with me.

It's a situation I didn't ask for. And the ramifications of which, neither the Questor nor myself were prepared for."

A look of astonished understanding crossed David's face.

"Well I should think not," David said. "Surely a free thinking man with questor grade guild nanites, who hasn't sworn fealty to the guild council is nothing less than miraculous." David hesitated for a moment. Then since Jake didn't say anything, he inquired. "Tell me Jake, is there any particular reason why you haven't signed on with the guild? I mean while no organization is perfect, the guild has a reputation for being a fairly honorable one. And in your case it's not like you'd be starting at the bottom. In fact, as a questor, they would require very little from you."

"Very good questions," Jake countered. "The truth is my mind isn't made up yet. But once I take the required oath, I would no longer have a choice. I never did think a man should pledge allegiance to anything until he first agreed with everything the pledge implied. Actually, at this point the biggest reason I'm still hesitating to join them has to do with the coercive measures I'm told they're likely to use when they realize I'm still a free man."

"Yes," David replied, "My research indicates that some of them won't hesitate to take unfair advantage of you in that regard. But has it occurred to you that your putting your, you called him your mentor, in a very difficult spot?"

"Technically, he isn't in violation of his oath." Jake explained, "He merely used his personal nanites to heal my damaged body. He was quite surprised when his nanites decided to bond with me. So while they can make things difficult for him, they can't quite declare him an outlaw. Besides, it was he, who first advised me to be sure it was the right choice for me before I make such a pledge."

At that moment the sound of a three toned bell reverberated through the study.

"That will be Elisabeth with a barge filled with all the extra supplies I ordered in anticipation of your stay," David said. "Why don't you accompany me to the dock? She's a delightful young woman."

Jake and the boys followed David to the domed kitchen area. Then from there into an attached pantry. On the far side of the pantry, David opened a stout door that led to a long tunnel that sloped downward at a slight angle. The tunnel walls, ceiling and floor were mostly made of solid rock with occasional sections of concrete. Every ten feet there was an electric light mounted near the top of one of the walls. The lights automatically switched on while any of them were within 15 feet of them. To one side of the tunnel, near the pantry, there was a food storage area. On the other side there was a wine cellar. As they descended down the tunnel they passed a half dozen other storage areas on either side.

At the downward end of the tunnel there was another stout door. That opened into a log cabin like room resembling a smaller version of the front door's outer foyer. It was without furniture but hanging from hooks in the walls were a variety of fishing poles, flotation vests and other related gear. The outer wooden door opened onto a small pier with steps leading down to an attached floating dock. There was also a winch mounted on a rotating boom. Which was positioned over a barge that was tied up to the dock. The pier and it's dock were located in a small cove on the upstream side of the island.

Elisabeth was a blue eyed young woman with short and sassy blond hair and curves in all the right places. As it turned out she wasn't alone this trip. The order had been large enough that her step father, Richard, had accompanied her to help with the supplies. Richard was a short stoutly built man. What hair he had was gray but his green eyes wielded an intense gaze that spoke of a will as strong as his body.

On this occasion Elisabeth's mother, Jane, had also come along. She had wanted to consult with David's wife, Judith, about a few bolts of cloth. Jane was a slender redhead. Her breasts were large enough to be the first thing most people noticed about her. By the time David had opened the outer door, there was a large bundle of assorted produce suspended from the winch and an even larger bundle of other assorted goods sitting on a skid on the pier. Elisabeth and Richard were just beginning to swing the winch over the other empty skid they had positioned on the pier.

As soon as the second pallet was loaded David introduced his guests.

"You two sure loaded up the skids this trip," David said. "Your welcome to use the electric skidjack to get them up the hill."

"And you know how I feel about that contraption," Richard replied. "We'll do just fine with the two unpowered ones you keep in the lower storage hold."

"Yes I know you prefer those," David acknowledged with a sigh. "It's just that I'd have expected you to spread this load across a few more skids. There's plenty of them in the pile at the edge of the pier you know."

"What? And spend half the evening running up and down the ramp?" Elisabeth expounded with a grin. "I think not! Especially not when my Pa comes along to give me a hand with it. Now the sooner you step aside, the sooner we can grab those mechanical jacks. Then we'll haul your order to the upper storerooms and be out of your way."

"Nonsense," retorted David with a slight chuckle, "The two of you'd not know how to be in the way even if you tried to just stand around all night. And seeing as how your Mom came along, I expect you've no need to hurry off tonight. Which is a good thing because it seems we're going to turn this evening's festivities into an all nighter. Thanks to you, we now have more than enough supplies. So why don't the three of you stay and honor us with your company?"

Elisabeth's eyes lit up.

"Oh can we Papa?" she asked.

"I don't know," Richard replied. "But I suppose there's no reason you have to come home with us. Just as long as you promise not to shirk your chores tomorrow."

"I'll get my chores done Pa," she replied. "But it'd be a lot more fun if you stayed. I bet David would let you play one of his hand made fiddles."

"To hear you play it," David confirmed. "I'd even give you one."

"No you won't," Richard countered. "But I dare say I wouldn't mind playing one for a song or two while Jane talks to your wife. I'm just not so used to staying up all night. So after a bit I'll be taking the barge back to the farm."

"But if that's the problem," David replied. "You know your welcome to one of the bedrooms. Or if you prefer, you can even use the cottage where you can hear and smell the river flow by all night."

"It would give me more time to make up my mind about which pattern I want Judith to weave for me," Jane kibitzed.

Richard gazed back and forth between his wife and daughter. Then into the eyes of the only prime he ever really had much respect for. Finally he shrugged.

"All right, I know when I'm out gunned," Richard admitted. "I'll get blind drunk on your beer, while I'm playing one of those wonderful fiddles of yours till I'm more than half asleep. And then I'll stay the night in that cottage of yours. All on two conditions..."

"Just name them," David answered with a huge smile.

"First when I say I feel like I'm about to pass out, somebody's going to have to lead me by my drunken hand all the way to that cottage."

"I'll see to that myself Richard," David promised. "But you said there was another condition?"

"Yes!" Richard replied. "And this is the important one. Second, like Elisabeth said, everyone needs to step aside, so we can get them damn jacks under these skids. Then we can finish delivering the goods and get on with the celebrating."

A few seconds later, Elisabeth had one skidjack under the skid of produce and Richard had the other under the larger mixed load. Sam noticed that these manually operated mechanical tools resembled the one he sometimes used at Hillside except that instead of an internal hydraulic jack, it had a crank wheel that operated something resembling a built in version of an old scissors style car jack. He was about to offer to help Elisabeth haul her load up the ramp like tunnel when Jake made the mistake of beating him to it.

"I'll thank you to take your hands off the jack handle and let me earn my spool sir!" she said with such vehemence, that Jake stepped back as if he'd been bitten. Sam smiled, it was nice of Jake he thought, to save him from accidentally insulting this hot looking young woman.

It hadn't taken long for David to get them all settled in to the west lounge, where Arnold was rapidly recovering from his shock as he stared into the center of the fire Judith had built. Mary was snuggled up next to him in front of the fire. He was absently stroking her hair. When they entered the room, Arnold looked up and seemed to really see Jake for the first time since they had arrived.

"I guess I owe you an apology sir," Arnold began. "It seems that instead of deserving all the curses I've wished upon you and your guild, I actually owe you a debt. For Mary tells me that she wouldn't still be alive if not for you."

"No Arnold," Jake said with a sigh. "You don't owe me a thing. She probably wouldn't have been in danger in the first place if I hadn't been there."

"No!" Arnold insisted. "You shouldn't try to take the blame for the deeds of those anti-technology extremists. That is not on you. But I hope you understand, I'll not be letting her out of my sight for a while. Which means that since I know for a fact that our host doesn't condone orgies, your just going to have to do without her services for a while."

A few minutes later David was back with a beautiful wooden fiddle, which he set down along with a bow, on the table next to the chair Richard was sitting in. When Richard saw it he fairly quivered as he protested.

"But that's the priceless antique you keep in the glass case over your desk," he said. "Surely you don't expect me to play that. I mean it should be in a museum. I'd probably break it."

"Yes it's a priceless antique," David agreed. "But I keep it tuned up. And I've read up on the man who built it some seven hundred years ago. He believed that the best way to honor a great musical instrument was to make music with it. And frankly your the best fiddle player I know. Please, I long to hear it played properly."

Richard sighed and gently picked it up. He caressed it as a man might caress a woman he loved. Then he picked up the bow and hesitantly began to play. Soon the sweetest of music flowed from the fiddle as tears of joy streamed down Richard's face. The next selection was a lively foot stomper. By the time Richard was playing his third song he didn't even notice David and Judith slip out of the room to fetch food and drink for their guests.

The evening was filled with much music and talking. With lots of food and drink but there wasn't much laughter. Every now and then the atmosphere would start to turn mirthful but before long someone would remember the hundreds who perished when the Scuttlebutt blew up. Then true to Slowlane convention, they would usually call for a sailor's toast to the honor of the fallen crew. Then someone would call one for their passengers. By the time that they had also toasted the bystanders on the riverbanks, the mood would be far too somber for laughter. After a while Sam pulled Jess to one side.

"Arnold sounded sincere to me," he whispered. "When he told Jake that David wouldn't put up with wild sex parties."

"And your point?" Jess responded.

"So how come," Sam queried, "You keep making googoo eyes at Judith?"

"Oh David doesn't mind that," Jess said with a chuckle.

"But?" Sam began to protest.

"David just doesn't hold with group sex," Jess interrupted. "He thinks it should be a private thing between one man and one woman. At a time that is. And he believes that it should usually be based on the kind of attraction that only develops when you take the time to get to know someone. Fact is, sooner or later he's going to want an extended private conversation with Jake. And he likely expects that I'll keep Judith entertained. Speaking of which, I think Mary's going to be a bit busy with Arnold. So if I were you I'd spend some time talking with Elisabeth."

"Perhaps I will," Sam replied. "But I gotta tell you that I'm impressed. Usually you aim for the prettiest young thing in the room. And while Mrs. Miller seems like a real nice lady..."

Sam was suddenly interrupted by Judith Miller. Who they had failed to notice quietly walking up behind them.

"Why thank you Sam!" she said with a slight smirk on her face. She paused a moment to enjoy the expression on Sam's face. "I always suspected that Jess was a would be cradle robber. And thank you for thinking of me as a 'nice' lady. And not just another pretty face.

Speaking of which Jess, why don't you tell us why you'd rather cozy up with an old lady like me than chase that hot blooded daughter of Arnold's?"

"Arnold's?" Jess nearly choked. "But I thought Richard..."

"Oh, to be sure Richard is more of a father to her than Arnold," Judith explained. "But the genetic branch tends to occasionally arrange for a prime like Arnold to procreate with someone they think genetically ideal. And it seems they thought Jane's genetic profile was a good fit for Arnold's. But back to the point Jess. Why is it you'd rather climb into my bed than hers? And I want the truth."

"Well to be sure," Jess admitted. "Elisabeth currently looks more like my usual first choice. But, there's more to it than how pretty the woman I'm with happens to be. If you must know I'm very fond of you. Besides, last I knew you were very good at making it seem more like fun."

"That she is!" said David. Who Judith hadn't bothered to tell the boys was now standing behind them. "Can I safely presume dear, that you won't mind if I drag Jake off to my office for the rest of the night?

Just as soon that is, as I can convince Richard that it's time for me to escort him to the cottage."

As it happened, Richard was so unsteady on his feet that Jake volunteered to help David get him to the secluded cottage. To get there, David led them back down the tunnel to the pier. One side of which abutted a path in the side of the hill. They followed the path around to the other side of the hill where the shoreline became a beachless stretch of exposed rock. There, on the point of a ledge that protruded into the river, sat a small cottage made of hewn stone. It's location commanded an excellent view up the river on one side. In the other direction one could see the water rush through the relatively narrow channel that flowed under the bridge.

Once inside, Richard abruptly wrapped his arms around his wife's waist. Then he sat down on the couch which was next to a small woodstove.

"Before you leave us," Jane asked. "Would you be so kind as to help me get his boots off David?"

Even as she asked, her husband started to unfasten her blouse. David simply grabbed one of Richard's legs, and began loosening the laces of his boot. Without a word, Jake grabbed Richard's other leg and did the same. They worked quickly but by the time they had unfastened his boots, Richard had completely exposed Jane's ample bosom. He then proudly demanded their opinion.

"Now boys, have you ever seen such a pair?" he asked.

Richard then planted his feet firmly on the floor before they had quite pulled his boots off.

"No my friend," Dave allowed with a sigh. "I can't say I've ever seen another pair quite like them."

"And you Jake?" Richard asked. "Have you seen the like of them?"

"They look magnificent Richard," Jake replied, taking his cue from David. At which point Richard smiled and began to unfasten Jane's wrap around skirt. She didn't resist this any more than she had resisted his assault on her blouse but she did loudly protest.

"At least let them pull those damn boots off you Richard," she pled.

In response, Richard lifted his feet off the floor even as he finished exposing the rest of Jane's feminine charms. Jake couldn't help but notice that Jane hadn't been wearing any undergarments. Even as they pulled his boots off, Richard twisted around and dove face first into her crotch. Jane for her part didn't appear embarrassed at all.

"Thanks gentleman," she said. "It's always much better when he's not wearing them boots." Then she just stopped talking.

"Well Jane, it looks to me like you won't need a fire in the stove to keep warm for the rest of the night," David said without the slightest pretense of 'not' looking. "So unless you say otherwise, we'll be leaving now." As they left, Jake and David heard Jane begin to moan in the throes of her first orgasm.

"I do hope you'll forgive Richard's vulgar behavior," David said to Jake, as they walked back to the pier. "He's really not like that when he's sober."

"Before I could forgive him," Jake replied. "I'd had to have been offended in the first place. Though I'll admit I'm a little surprised that you took it in stride like that. I've heard tell that you believe sex is supposed to be a private thing." David stopped walking. Then he turned to look Jake squarely in the eyes.

"Whoever said that didn't quite get it right," David explained. "I believe it should be something special between one man and one woman. But I've no objection to them making a show of it. In fact, I find it stimulating to watch another couple while I'm putting on a show of my own. But I'd first make sure that everyone involved liked the idea. And that nobody would be in the frustrating position of being aroused by the erotic display, without having a partner to play with.

Which reminds me, I feel like I should apologize for not warning you of Richard's tendency to show off Jane's charms. Especially since I wanted to monopolize the rest of your evening with some serious discussion."

"I wouldn't worry about it much," Jake replied. "I already got the distinct impression that between Arnold, Sam and Jess there aren't any available woman left tonight anyway. Besides which I wanted to talk to you about a few things too."

Chapter 28 Into The Pit

Questor was pleased with himself as he stepped through the airlock into his personal ship. He had, he felt, done well since he left XenDar. He had secured pledges of cooperation for the protection of the delicate balance between the unusual ecology of XenDar and it's colony, from the two most powerful personalities in the guild.

First the Captain of the Resonance, who was without a doubt the most powerful questor there ever was. No other questor had the strength to maintain even a tenth as many implementations of augmentation nano-nets, as he did for his crew.

Then the Professor, who was the scientific genius who had created the guild's nano-technology that made it possible to permanently attune large numbers of nanites to a host in such a way that they could be networked into a single multifunction organism and which had also made it possible to safely make them self replicating.

It had always puzzled Questor that those same nanites that were responsible for the existence of the sentient nanosymbionts that had given the questors the original advantage they had needed over the cybernoids of the old guild, had never accepted the Professor as a host-mind. The Professor had had to settle for a more simplistic form of the networked nanites that depended on direct command protocols.

It was too bad that they couldn't quite preserve the professor's health and vigor as well as a true nanosymbiont could have. The professor had survived 4 billion years of subjective time but his health was failing. It was doubtful that even the vast resources of the life support system he had built into his artificial world, 'University' could keep him alive for more than another million years or perhaps two at the most of subjective time. For whatever time remained to him however, he was still the most influential person in the guild. He was also the wealthiest. Which coupled with his incredible intellect had made him the single most powerful man known to exist.

Getting the cooperation of these two was especially sweet because on any list of all the people with a known obsession for all things Kindred, they, along with himself, composed the top three names.

It wasn't necessary for the Captain to disengage the Resonance's stardrive for Questor to launch. He merely had to wait until he passed outside of the envelope of the Resonance's inverse temporal dilation field before engaging his own. In the imperceptibly brief moment it took for his own stardrive to engage, the Resonance had already arrived at it's next stop and was no longer near enough for a conflict to occur between the two inverse temporal dilation fields.

Questor's shuttle was in stealth mode as he selected a secluded landing site a little nearer to the cave. He quickly used his shuttle's adaptive camouflage to conceal his shuttle on the island like hilltop. Then he started down the hill. Which was covered with vine like plants but nothing that really resembled trees. For that he'd have to descend a little closer to the ooze covered forest floor.

Once he reached them he would walk along the top of the large branch like creatures that connected the separate giant trees they were in symbionce with. The branches were actually a strange form of animal the local people called a BranchCritter. Which was in a compound symbiotic relationship with both the towering trunks to which they served as branches and with the many kinds of upside down vines with their roots firmly embedded in the BranchCritter's underbelly.

The trick was to reach the BranchCritters in the first place. The more dangerous denizen of the forest sometimes hunted among the hills. Yet the real difficulty was that before he could get near enough to one of the giant trees to reach it's BranchCritters, Steve would already be in it's shade. Then he'd have to move very quickly before the voracious insect like omnivores, that nested in the mucky ooze of the forest floor, found him.

As he got closer to the ooze, Steve had his nanites contain the scent molecules that normally emanated from his body. He hoped that would be enough to stop the omnivores from detecting his presence.

Steve thought that the local name for them 'MuckTeeth' was very appropriate. They lived in the odorous muck of the forest floor and if they found you, all you would have time to notice about them would be their teeth.

His nanites would protect him from them of course but there would be so many of them, that even his nanites would be hard pressed to stop them all. So a few might get through his outer defenses and the bites of the MuckTeeth were reportedly quite excruciating.

It would be better to get up into the trees, where they wouldn't follow. Then he spotted what he was looking for. One of the BranchCritters that curved it's way around the hill he'd landed on, had undulated far enough over the lower slope of the hill. That he could reach it without quite stepping into the dangerous shade.

He pulled a nanomorphic pellet out of one of the hidden pockets of his nanomorphic garment. Which he had set to resemble the poncho of a WildRunner. He placed the pellet on the side of his walking stick, near it's unusual ring like handle. The pellet stuck like it had been magnetized. Though it was not magnetic force that held it there.

He pointed the stick towards a point in the foliage that grew down from the BranchCritter's belly which was nearly 200 arms over his head. The pellet rapidly accelerated along the shaft of his stick. To which a thin gossamer strand of nanomorphic thread tethered the pellet. Which had transformed itself into the dart that flew from the end of the stick and embedded itself in a vine stalk. Then Steve commanded the thread to thicken. Which made it's length get rapidly shorter, pulling him up out of harms way.

He considered using the same technique to climb the rest of the way up to the ShellWay that he intended to walk on but he decided to reuse the nanomorphic pellet by commanding it to become a sling. So that he could hang his stick on his shoulder. While he commanded his nanites to grow him a set of metallic claws with which he was able to quickly scramble up the foliage and pull himself up onto the BranchCritter's hard shelled back. As soon as he touched the BranchCritter itself however, he could sense a vague foreboding coming from it. He was well aware that what passed for the BranchCritter's brain was much too decentralized for him to learn anything by having his nanites map out it's circuits. So he simply walked along the ShellWay until he reached one of the huge tree trunks that the BranchCritter had a symbiotic relationship with.

Then he again had his nanites provide him with claw like fingernails, that could grip the rock hard bark of the great tree trunk. Up which he climbed until he found another BranchCritter, that extended into the distance in approximately the direction he wanted to go. When he touched this BranchCritter he felt again the same vague foreboding.

When he felt it again from the third BranchCritter he touched, he decided he should hurry. He was soon running along the ShellWays faster than any WildRunner could have. Two cycles later, he was looking down at the old looking BranchCritter. That appeared to pass through a cave like tunnel in the exposed rock ledge on one end of an oblong hill. It was of course a different BranchCritter that came out of the other end of the tunnel. They were connected by an ancient ForkHub within the tunnel at a junction with the deep dark passageway and an even older, very unusual BranchCritter. Unlike it's brethren it didn't have upside down vines and bushes, growing out of it's belly. Instead it had a moss like growth that Steve knew would have overgrown some of the strange BranchCritter's narrow shell. Making it slippery in places.

He reached the ForkHub inside the tunnel junction before he felt the presence that had sought to draw him into the pit. Questor was alarmed to notice how much weaker it felt than before. He wanted to run down the narrow OverShell of the Mossy BranchCritter within but it was far too slippery. The ancient BranchCritter also sagged much closer to the floor of the cave than before. The slippery moss like growth now covered most of it's OverShell. Worse still the BranchCritter shuddered weakly as he walked along it. The deeper into the cave he went, the more he felt as though he needed to hurry. He also sensed an element of despair in the weak presence. He worried that he may have waited too long. It wasn't until he passed through the archway into the first of the five chambers that he sensed any awareness of his arrival. There was a small glimmer of hope but above all there was a sense of a desperate need for him to hurry.

Questor was now convinced that this presence he felt was one of the Kindred and that the ancient being was near death. Throwing caution to the winds, he ran to the inner chamber and dove head first into the pit below. He commanded his stick to provide more light as he began his leap. As he plummeted into the depths of the slightly curved shaft, Questor let the other end of his stick rub lightly against the smooth wall to keep his distance from it stable. Soon he could see a door like opening just to one side of the stone hand holds. As he approached it he began to see what looked like the bottom of the shaft, which appeared to terminate in an uninviting pool of a dark slimy substance. He also sensed that his path was through the door like opening.

With an acrobatic maneuver that would have amazed any observer, he tucked his body into a ball like pose and rotated 180°. Then as he straightened his body back out he caught the last handhold above the opening. At the same time he used his stick to push against the side of the shaft. The result was that he swung his body into the opening, landing heavily on the floor of the passageway beyond it.

The passageway led to a circular chamber. It's walls were covered in patterns of crystal in several different colors. Some appeared to be carved into bizarre three dimensional forms. Some of the shapes were like long curved rods connecting various objects with a single complex structure against one wall. A few of those appeared hollow and filled with various fluids. Just above that structure there was a shelf with a small pool filled with the liquid that had evidently been pumped through the tube like crystal shapes. Partially immersed in that liquid was a huge but unmistakable living face. It's eyes were blinking. Questor sensed distress at the unfamiliar brightness, so he muted the glow from his stick until it was a dim glow that barely illuminated the chamber enough for his enhanced vision to see by. There was a sound like a sigh and the huge eyes opened wide.

'At last you have come,' a faint voice whispered silently in Questors mind. 'Please listen closely for there is much I must tell you and little time remains to do so. When I have told you what I must I will try to remain long enough to answer a few of the many questions you would ask me. But it would have been better if you had answered my call the last time you entered the chamber above.

I am the last of my kind. We who reformed our world ages ago so that it could be moved from our dying daystar, preserved some of our history in the markings on the cave walls above. Much of our knowledge is encoded within the crystal disks. Long have I waited for someone to bequeath this knowledge to. Over the long years a few hundreds found their way to the cave above. Of these, all but eleven were perceived as being the kind of enemy who would use our knowledge for such evil that they could not be allowed to depart with their minds intact. And of the eleven, you alone have engendered sufficient trust for me to offer the sum total of our knowledge. Much of which is so encrypted that it can not be extracted without knowing the key. Each of the disks above have a different key. It will take most of my remaining strength to impart these keys into your mind. But first I must ask you to promise that you will do all in your power to ensure that this knowledge is not used for evil.'

Questor thought deeply for a moment. Then he spoke aloud his reply.

"That would depend on your definition of evil," he said.

'True evil changes with the circumstances of each moment in time,' the voice in his head said. 'You will have to use your own perception of what is evil as your guide.'

"In that case I will do my best to prevent that from happening," the Questor promised.

"Then I must now ask you to clear your mind of all distractions," the voice in his mind continued. "That you may perceive correctly. It will also be necessary for you to temporarily disable the direct interaction between your mind and the mechanical devices that flow through it. As for this to work, I must impart much into your natural mind. And the shadow image of it provided by the mechanical devices would cause too much distortion."

Questor's nano-symbiont didn't think it was a good idea but it agreed to go offline with an automatic reconnect preset for a time delay of one cycle or upon a manually activated signal from the circuitry embedded in Questor's stick.

One cycle later, Questor's nano-net rebooted and the nano-symbiont came back online to find his host mind unconscious. There was a massive chunk of new data embedded in Questor's brain. The nano-symbiont immediately began to copy the data to secure nano-storage. Much of data didn't compute however. His host mind did have a memory of knowing that there were some algorithms indelibly embedded in his mind that wouldn't translate well into the nanites digital thoughts. His host mind also contained the belief that he would be able to apply the algorithms as needed to decrypt the massive data stored in the crystal disks in the 5 circular chambers above. The nanosymbiont also ran a medical diagnostic which found no damage. So it began to rouse it's host-mind.

As soon as Questor's natural mind regained consciousness, he could sense that the mind of the ancient one before him was much weaker than before. There was little time left for answers to the questions he held dear. He did learn that part of why the ancient one chose him was his feelings concerning the Kindred who this ancient one referred to as the others. Who had chosen to roam the stars rather than transform themselves into the forms needed to protect their reformed home world. As far as the ancient one knew, the others may well still exist but he couldn't shed any light on where to look. He did however, confirm that XenDar was in fact their original homeworld. Questor also learned that the machinery that had maintained the cave in it's pristine condition for so long was itself maintained by the ancient one's very lifeforce. Thus said machinery would only survive him for a few years. Then the cave would begin to deteriorate. The ancient one was concerned for Questor's safety however.

"You should leave soon," the ancient one spoke weakly within Questors mind. "When my lifeforce fails, my body will fall into the lethal slime below. And there will no longer be a bridge for you to walk upon."

"That will not be a problem for me," Questor replied. "Those mechanical devices within me, combined with the energy stored within the stick I carry will be able to provide me with another kind of bridge. I would that I could save you. But I perceive that the end of your long life is at hand. And that there are none of your kind left to give your spirit comfort as you pass beyond into the last unknown of death. So, unless you would prefer to die alone, I would stay and offer what comfort I can."

'This is a great gift that you would offer,' the ancient voice in his mind said. 'I sense that you have said goodbye to many friends and loved ones in similar fashion. Perhaps not as many as I have but enough that you know something of the sorrow you would feel. Your willingness to do so confirms my belief that I chose well. And I thank you. But it isn't necessary. You would be better off if you left now.'

"But then I would have to live with myself," Questor countered. "Nay! I will stay with you."

With that Questor emptied his mind of all but compassion for this ancient being who had long evaded the death it now faced with courage. He did his best to open his mind to it's weakening thoughts. He felt and shared it's uncertainty and fear. It wasn't long before it was too weak to speak to his mind but Questor kept his mind open. He could for a time, vaguely feel a sense of gratitude for the company.

Eventually with a gurgle the ancient's face was pulled through the wall of the chamber, as it lost it's grip on the artificial TreeWell in the outer cave. This left an opening in the wall two arms tall, and nearly four arms wide. Through it he could see the length of the ancient BranchCritter begin to fall into the depths of the cave. Questor just stood there, with tears in his eyes for nearly two cycles before he began to move.

He climbed out of the circular pit. Then as he made his way out through the five chambers, he collected all but one of the 363 crystal disks containing the encrypted knowledge of the ancients he'd been bequeathed. As he carefully wrapped them with nano-cloth and placed them into the backpack his poncho had become, he knew full well that the mechanism that would replace them was still running. Nonetheless, he didn't feel like he should take a second one like the one he had shown the Professor.

When he reached the stairs that led down to the now empty artificial TreeWell, he sealed and donned the backpack. Then he took a firm hold on his stick, as he would the bar of a hang glider and commanded it to transform into a personal grav-lifter. Thus he flew slowly down the tunnel until he reached the ForkHub that used to connect with the ancient BranchCritter. Here he landed and began to walk the ShellWays back to his ship.

Chapter 29 The Burning Sky

David and Jake spent the rest of the night discussing many things in David's study. Jake had the impression that David was considering confiding in him the critical details of some secret project he was working on. Though as yet he hadn't said what that project was.

"I know I've got you curious about my secret project," David said. "So curious in fact that I'm surprised you haven't broken out a pipe full of asulrod to loosen my tongue with."

"Asulrod?" Jake began to inquire, when his nanites responded with some data they were still holding from Steve's memories. "Why that old hypocrite!" Jake continued. "Now that you mention the stuff, I seem to recall some data on how Steve, also known as 'the Questor', sometimes uses it as a medium to deploy medical nanites. And to think he declined to replace my stash of weed."

"What kind of weed was that?" David asked.

"Err, it's a somewhat less effective mood affecting smoking material that I had on me the day he saved my life," Jake began. "Though I don't suppose I really needed it anymore. Because like the asulrod you mentioned, my nanites would have prevented the intoxicating effects. You did know Questor was impervious to asulrod's effects, right?"

"Well I suspected as much anyway," David replied. "It's just that I've been dancing around a subject I'd like to consult with you on. This in spite of the fact that I've already decided to trust in your discretion. It's just that a bit of asulrod would have actually made it easier for me to spit it out. And since your mentor usually had some on hand for that... Say, would you look at the time. The sunrise tends to be beautiful this time of year. Would you mind finishing this discussion in the morning air?"

Jake simply stood up and gestured towards the door, to indicate that David should lead the way.

"As you probably know," David said while they strolled down one of the cobblestone paths with a great view of what Jake decided really was a beautiful sunrise. "Slowlane's science is heavy on manipulating energy. But I've discovered a way to convert an advanced energy construct into real matter. Any kind of matter."

David would have explained further, but suddenly the colorful sunrise wasn't the brightest point in the sky. Instead there were three small, but very bright objects outshining it. That's when the air began to get very hot.

Jake realized that they were under an attack a little faster than David did. His nanites had detected the problem even faster and activated his personal defense shield. Jake quickly pulled out his cigarette lighter and adjusted it's microfusion reactor to maximum output. Then he expanded his personal defense shield to cover the whole island. His Nanites automatically shifted the massive power drain to the microfusion reactor. Which instantly began to emit an overload warning.

There were less than 2 seconds between the moment his defense shield clicked on and the moment he expanded it but that was long enough for the exposed skin of David's face to begin to blister. David looked up at the shimmering effect of the underside of the shield dome, then at the glowing lighter in Jake's hand.

"That's impressive," he said as it dawned on him that the little device was generating the power to run the defense shield. Then with an upward glance at the purple hue of the defense shield he added, "But how long can you keep that shield up?"

"Only as long as this thing's microfusion reactor can supply the power," Jake replied with a gesture of the hand holding the lighter. "And at this rate, it'll reach critical overload in 10 minutes or so. Then it won't matter much anymore."

"Then pray to whatever deity you may believe in," David said. "That it will be long enough! I must get to the control room under the bridge pylon at once."

That said he took off down the path at a dead run. Jake quickly followed and soon was running alongside of him.

"Do you mean you can do something about this?" He asked.

"If I can reach the control system in time," panted David. "I'll damn sure give it a hell of a try!"

Jake instructed his nanites to enhance his leg muscles and summarily scooped David off the ground as he doubled his speed.

"Near the entrance gate do?" he asked.

David had been at first quite surprised and somewhat insulted to be suddenly carried like a child but he noticed how much faster Jake was running than he had been and swallowed his pride.

"Yes the entrance is only 15 feet from there," David said. Jake grunted and increased his speed yet again.

Less than three minutes after the attack began, Jake deposited David on his feet next to the door concealed as a mere recession, that looked identical to a series of large recessions. That were evenly spaced along the base of the bridge support pylon. David was only slightly surprised that Jake had located the exact spot where the access control was concealed but there was no time to waste thinking about that.

From this vantage point near the river he could see the water had begun to boil. He tried not to think about his friends in the surrounding countryside. Somebody was damn well going to pay for this but for now, all he could allow himself to think about was stopping the power distribution satellites that were being used as weapons against them. He pushed his hand against the concealed biometric scanner. Then he spoke his pass phrase. The bottom of the recessed surface swung inward reveling a concrete stairway. David began down the stairs.

"You'll have to go on yourself from here," Jake's nano-pod spoke from inside David's ear canal. "If I'm going to keep the shield over the island, I'll have to remain out here. But I'll be with you anyway."

"Good!" David replied as he took the steps two at a time. "Because I'll need you to let my signal through when I'm ready to transmit."

David said no more as he continued through another concealed doorway and down some more stairs. Into the part of the secret facility under the bridge that he hadn't told the government about. He had been concerned about a growing tendency for the government to see potential military applications as the important part of his work. So he had wanted to be able to run experiments that they didn't know about.

He had some idea's about high energy manipulation that he didn't intend to share with them unless he found a viable nonmilitary use that was worth the risk of letting them use it to build better weapon systems with. To do that he needed a source of energy that the government couldn't measure his use of. The hydroelectric power system concealed in the structure of the bridge could do just that. At least it could when he ran it at night. After making sure nobody happened to be on the river, at least not close enough to the bridge to notice the change in the way the water flowed under it. This time he wouldn't care who might notice.

Finally he reached the power control room and fairly threw himself at the control levers that would raise the flow barrier dams. Which in turn would redirect more than half the rivers volume to the rapidly opening water intakes. As he yanked the last lever into the correct configuration for maximum power, David spun on his heals and began running back up the stairs to the laboratory the government did know about.

By the time he got there they had been under attack for 7 minutes. David was breathing hard as he staggered into the chair at the primary control console.

"It'll take me a couple more minutes to encode the override codes into a suitable signal," David said out loud, in the hope that Jake was still monitoring him somehow. "Then I'll need a 5 second hole in your defense shield above the dish at the top of this pylon. Once I've transmitted, it should take less than a minute for those power station satellites to shut down."

Even as he said this, David noticed that his weather console had detected 6 additional heat sources adding to the intensity of the firestorm. He shuddered as he realized that the only possible sources of the extra heat were from satellites located so far away as to require them to beam their energy at such an angle through the atmosphere as to make precise targeting of his island impossible. Whoever was responsible for this atrocity must have detected Jake's defense shield, and decided that overcoming it was important enough, to warrant reducing the whole region to cinders. This frightened him greatly but not nearly as much as it made him angry.

"That'll be cutting it a bit close David," Jake's nano-pod replied. "But we can just about do it, I think. Just give me a one second warning when your ready to transmit."

Jake looked with apprehension at the pulsating cigarette lighter he was holding. It had begun to glow the moment he had called upon it to power his overloaded defense screen. It hadn't taken long for the glow to become a flashing red light that alternated with an unsettling warning tone. Which signaled a rapidly approaching critical threshold point. When the microcontainment system would fail, resulting in a small nuclear blast.

The amazing thing was the amount of power it was producing. Fully 10 percent of which was being consumed by the process of extracting enough hydrogen from moisture in the surrounding air to keep the reaction going. Another 40 percent was used up in the process of force fusing individual pairs of hydrogen atoms into helium and collecting most of the resulting energy released. The remaining 50 percent had so far proved to only just barely be enough to keep his expanded shield intact.

If he had been able to settle for a significantly smaller shield dome, his lighter could have supplied the power almost indefinitely. Unfortunately each time he'd had to double the size of the shield, it's power requirements quadrupled. In order to include the cottage where Richard Winters and his wife had been sleeping, inside it's protection Jake had needed to expand it to the absolute limit of it's capacity. His nanites were expending themselves at a frightening rate to keep the defense screen in operating condition. When they failed to repair it fast enough, it would crumble.

It was, he decided, a tossup as to whether the defense screen would fail first. Letting in all that destructive energy that was being beamed at them. Or whether the microfusion power plant would explode first.

Arnold had been watching the sunrise via a pseudo-window when the attack began. Mary was snuggled up against him. She knew he was still brooding about the cold blooded brutality of the terrorists who had blown up the Scuttlebutt.

He'd been mumbling all night about their needing help from one or more mainstream government factions to operate the way they did without getting caught. As Luna shuttle pilots, they both recognized the nature of the attack the moment it began. Neither needed any explanation from the other to know what they meant when, a few seconds later, they both broke the momentary silence at nearly the same moment.

"How could they dare?" Arnold burst out in shock. Even before he was done speaking, Mary also spoke up in a dismayed voice.

"Who could possibly have done this?" she asked.

Neither had expected an answer but Arnold knew the answers to both questions as soon as he thought about Mary's question.

"I'm afraid I know who could have done it," he began with an anger that was quickly becoming pure rage. "I knew the bastard had strong ties to the isolationist faction. But I never dreamed he'd do something like this. But the only way anyone who could, would possibly dare, was if they were in the middle of a de facto coup. And to pull that off they had to have complete control of Luna. There's only one bastard who could've done that in the time I've been planetside."

Hearing Arnold's reasoning, Mary also realized who had to have done this terrible thing. She didn't want to believe it.

"But Richard wouldn't..." she began.

"I wouldn't have believed it either," Arnold cut her off. "But nobody else could've."

***

"I'm ready to transmit!" David yelled, though he was certain that Jake would've heard the slightest whisper.

"Now!." Jake's voice said a heartbeat later.

David touched the final button of the sequence and the bowl shaped antenna at the top of the pylon began to emit the precoded burst transmission. The signal passed through a small hole that suddenly appeared in the defense shield just above the antenna. At the same time some of the searing heat leaked in through the same hole. Fortunately the antenna had been well constructed. It's shape remained intact until after the 5 second burst was over and Jake had closed the hole in his shield. At which point the antenna began to sag from the accumulated heat. 45 seconds later the three brightest spots went dark, followed by the other six a few seconds after that.

Jake was finally able to shut down both the defense shield and the microfusion power plant. When David stepped back outside, he found Jake staring numbly at the still faintly glowing lighter he was holding.

"I guess we made it then," was all David said.

"Just barely!" Jake replied, as he held up the lighter.

"I take it you've taken down the whole powernet?" Arnold spoke from the path a few feet away.

Neither David nor Jake had noticed his approach but both of them spotted the change in his demeanor immediately. Instead of appearing distraught, he displayed no visible emotion whatsoever.

"Yes", David replied. "It was the only way."

Arnold blinked twice, before continuing in a strangely calm voice.

"Then I must find another way up there," he said. Then after a brief pause, he continued in a voice so devoid of emotion it sounded cold as ice. "He isn't done, you know. He must be stopped. And he absolutely must not be allowed to hide his part in this."

"He?" David asked.

By which time Mary had caught up with her husband.

"Only the commander could have pulled off the coup that it would have taken to do this," Mary said.

"And, if such a coup as that hasn't happened," Arnold resumed speaking. "Then only commander Richard Smith has the balls to do such a thing as this anyway. Either way, it's him."

"But if he did pull off the coup up there," Began Mary.

"Then he will find a way to reactivate the powernet and try again," finished Arnold.

"I'm afraid that fits my assessment also," David spoke up. "But on a brighter note, I disabled the primary resonance sequencers in such a way that it will take the best team they have, at least a week to re-sync them."

"In that case," Arnold concluded. "He will disengage the primary safety interlocks on the defense cannon and fire on us directly. That will only take him about 36 hours." Then after a moments thought Arnold added, "Of course he'll have to take the main battery off line while he does so... Tell me Jake, can that device of yours that powered your defense shield, be adapted to power my shuttle?"

Jake lifted the lighter up and looked at the feeble blinking light it was emitting.

"Not any more," Jake replied. "I'm afraid it will take me quite some time to repair it without the use of certain high energy tools." Then almost as an after thought, he inquired. "But what about that hydropower station of yours David? Could you transmit enough power to his shuttle to get me up there?"

"Get us up there!" Arnold asserted.

"Perhaps," David replied. "If I spend about 4 hours putting a maximum capacity charge on my power cells, there might be enough juice to do it. It'd take me that long to adapt my transmitter to send a compatible signal anyway. But why would you want to go Arnold. You gotta know that once we get someone with Jake's abilities past the outer defenses and inside the Luna complex, he'd be an unstoppable force. But he wouldn't be able to spend his time shielding you. You'd be a sitting duck."

"Because my knowledge of the defense system will improve Jake's chances of getting through those outer defenses," Arnold replied. "And that in itself is enough to be worth expending myself. But don't be so quick to write me off when I get there. I'm a security team leader up there, I know when and where to duck. And I might just have a few allies up there, who'll do what they can to help me."

"In other words," Jake said. "Brer Rabbit here, was born and bred in that particular brier patch... Alright if you feel so strongly about it Arnold, you can go. Just try not to get yourself killed, Mary would never forgive me."

"Well I better set the dynamo to start building up that charge," said David. "I'll need the resonance value of your shuttle's power chip Arnold."

Suddenly Sam ran down the path to them. He looked very upset.

"I've had a look at the area from the top of the hill," Sam began. "It's terrible. As far as I can see in all directions there is nothing but scorched ground. How far does this circle of death go?"

"According to my scanners it's an ellipse," David answered. "The outer boarder of which varies from 60 to 100 miles from here." Sam's face drained of what little color it had had left as the implications of such large area sunk in. Suddenly he screeched hoarsely, "No! Sue! No! No!" As he turned and began running back up the path.

"Sue!" he screamed as he ran, pulling things from the backpack Sandra had made for him. "Sue..." he whimpered as he began assembling the frame at the top of the hill. His nano-toys, as he called them didn't have a microfusion reactor but there was enough energy in their power cells to form and launch a small 'ultralight' powered hang glider. "Sue!" he tried to scream again as he took flight but all he could manage was a hoarse whisper.

Both David and Arnold were puzzled by Sam's reaction.

"What was that about?" David began to ask, when he noticed tears streaming down Jake's face.

"I wasn't letting myself dwell on what this attack did to some good friends," Jake explained. "Who would have been on a cross country trail. But I'm afraid Sam got far too close to the sweet girl who owned the horses. I wish I could afford the time to help him come to terms with it. But right now the Luna mission is just too important to let such feelings get in the way. We've got a lot of prep work to do."

Sam was sick with dread as he flew. There had been precious few pockets of life where the shadow of some hill had provided a small shallow patch of shade. Worse, any of those that had contained a tree had been burned as the tree itself caught fire and collapsed down into the shaded spot. Sam didn't have much hope as he persisted in his search. He'd had a pretty good idea of how far Sue had had time to travel. If he was right, she wouldn't have been anywhere near any hill tall enough to make such a shady patch. That thought was enough to make his stomach churn.

By the time he got there his stomach was empty. He'd been down to dry heaves for the last 20 miles. He could scarcely make out where the trail had been. Everything looked different. What remains he found near the campsite were charred to the point that it was hard to prove anything had once been human. There was however, a little bit more left of the horses. As he neared the overhanging rock he noticed that there was also a smell like burnt meat mixed in with the pervasive aroma of charcoal. When he entered the stone shelter he found something that made no sense at all.

It went against everything he'd ever heard about horses but evidently one of them had died trying to crawl on it's belly, into the narrow cave opening. The air had become so hot that the poor beast had simply been cooked alive. Or at least the back 3 quarters of it had. It had tried so hard to stuff itself into the cave opening that it's body Had completely sealed the opening. The poor beast must have suffered horribly. Yet even as Sam wondered at what could possibly make a horse lay down as it tried in vain to get through the low opening, he recognized the pattern of the discolored markings on the remains as belonging to the old mare.

"Poor Nelly," he said to himself, as he worked to pull the carcass out of the cave opening. He had to use a pouch of strength enhancing nano-meds before he could even begin to budge the remains of the hapless beast. Even then it didn't budge far.

He wasn't quite sure why he bothered but he had accounted for the charred remains of all four horses, and only three of the riders. At first he thought that perhaps whoever had been in the cave when the hot air got to them would be sufficiently intact to at least identify the remains. He didn't know if he hoped that would be Sue or not. Either way, it was sure to feel like being stabbed with a dull knife.

It wasn't until he discovered that the horses neck seamed to still be partially uncooked, that he began to have hope. Maybe the heat hadn't made it all the way to the stream. Maybe there was still a little oxygen left in there. Then he thought, maybe she was only now running out of air. The thought that Sue could be drawing her last breath as he tried to get Nelly's body out of the way was enough to trigger an adrenaline rush. Suddenly he found that his nano-med fortified muscles were fairly tearing Nelly's body into pieces and throwing them over his shoulder. He shuddered at the thought of what he was doing but the slim chance that Sue might still be alive drove him to a frenzied state.

He was only vaguely aware of the fact that he nearly ripped one of his fingers off when it scraped across a sharp rock edge. He hoped the nano-meds had enough left to stop the bleeding but he didn't even slow down. Suddenly he realized that his grizzly task was done. There wasn't anything left blocking the passage. He didn't stop to test the air, just surged forward as fast as he could crawl. The air was foul, smelling of burnt horseflesh but there was still a little oxygen in it. When he reached the drop off that led to the underground stream, he fairly dove in head first.

He was nearly knocked unconscious as his head hit the bottom of the stream. He fought to turn himself upright. By the time his head made it back to the foul smelling air, he had half a lungful of water. Even as he coughed and retched, he was fishing in his pockets for the small flashlight he kept on a key ring but he found her before he found the light. She wasn't conscious but she had tied her cloths together along with her belt to form a sling just big enough to hang over a projecting rock formation and wedged her arm into it up to her shoulder. It had held her head out of the cold water. He had been worried about how hot the air might have been. Now he was worried about hypothermia. That is until he discovered she wasn't breathing. Then he could only pray that the cold had induced something like a divers reflex.

His nano-meds were depleted. He didn't have anymore packets to take. He was exhausted and bleeding from a partially healed finger. As well as the gash in his head but somehow he found the strength to drag Sue's unconscious form up the steep slope to the cramped passageway, where he performed CPR for what seemed like hours. Sam, who had never been very religious, thanked every god and daemon he'd ever heard of when she coughed and began to breath on her own. At this point he dragged her still unconscious form out of the foul smelling cave, into the relatively fresh smelling air outside.

Sue's breath was shallow and she still didn't respond to Sam's attempts to rouse her. He cursed himself for the hundredth time for having wasted his last nano-med packet getting Nelly's carcass out of the way. The longer it took to get her some nano-meds, the more likely that there would be permanent brain damage from the lack of oxygen. There wasn't enough nano-morphic material in his ultralight flight rig to both enlarge the rigs capacity to handle two people, and provide a secure harness to hold an unconscious passenger. So Sam cut his clothes into strips, along with what was left of Sue's and tied her body to his. In order to have the stability in flight he needed to prevent Sue's form from sagging to one side, so he tied her legs to his. He tied their waists together and he even tied her arms to his.

He spent half his power packs remaining charge just getting off the ground but once in the air, there were plenty of thermals, allowing him to conserve power as he flew towards the only man on the planet, that he believed might have even the slightest chance of being able to help Sue.

***

When Cindy stepped out of the VR booth she was somewhat dizzy. She couldn't believe how much information Sandra had packed into her brain.

"Don't worry, the disorientation won't last long," Sandra began to tell her. "I monitored your session closely. The scans told me your brain absorbed the data correctly."

Cindy shook her head and walked over to the desk. When she was sitting down Sandra continued.

"I'm sorry I had to pack quite so much in this one session Cindy," Sandra explained. "But if your serious about getting strong enough to avoid being a liability to Jake. I needed to ensure that you knew enough about what I'm going to suggest to make an informed decision. It's time you decided if your willing to let me implant part of your nano-control interface. I still can't make you quite Jake's equal. But with a direct data connection with your brain I can make you into something a lot closer to it. Closer than any of your new enemies will be prepared for."

Cindy began to draw upon her new knowledge.

"But isn't that how the Spacers of the old guild were transformed into cybernoids?" She asked with a shudder.

"Yes!" admitted Sandra. "But that was because the old corrupt central committee deliberately left out any safeguards that could have prevented them from remotely overriding the will of the spacers. Who they wanted to transform into an army of obedient super solders. The nanosymbionce that developed into what we now call questors developed from a cleverly designed system that couldn't do that. Even though at first, it had to appear to remote monitoring that such overrides were in place.

My design doesn't even have to pretend to let a central computer override your brain. Which made it somewhat easier to specifically design it to prevent any such thing. Also since your brain would be able to disconnect at will from anything external, I've been able work out a way to make the external support circuitry extensionable and replaceable. What's more, as a bonus you'd be able use it to interface with almost any computer system."

Cindy noticed that as Sandra spoke, she discovered relevant supporting information within the data stored in her brain. The whole thing was risky and time consuming. Though since she needed time to absorb the implanted data after each VR session. Along with the fact that she still needed about 3 more sessions. There could be enough time for it.

"Alright Sandra, you've almost convinced me." Cindy said. "But I warn you, if I let you do this and then Steve makes you undo it after I get used to it, I'm going to be hell to live with."

"Me too!" said Sandra. "But even if he does, I'm pretty sure it would only be the integrated command functions. And maybe the semi-continuous auto-insertion of a micro-stream of custom programmed nano-boosters." Cindy was surprised to realize that she knew exactly which functions Sandra was referring to.

"Yes, the very functions I'm afraid I'll get addicted to Sandra," Cindy explained her remaining hesitance. "But frankly I'm surprised you think the autoboosting is a good idea. If I've got the concept right, it would provide a targeted boosting of whatever functional deficiency the system detected a shortfall of. And if the detection system and enough of the nano-boost is built into the implanted part, it could provide that boost so quickly that I might become too strong for my own good. I mean I could develop a delusional, god like self image."

"You got the concept alright Cindy," Sandra said with a smile. "And correctly jumped to the right conclusion of the primary risk, aside from the potential damage that could be caused by prolonged over stimulation of the synapses in your brain." Sandra paused but before Cindy thought of anything to say, she continued. "Not to worry, the solution for both problems is to build in some limiting factors. The mechanisms for constructing and storing those highly specialized programmable nano-boosters are both designed to be somewhat limited. It will take about 15 hours for the system to replenish enough of the custom nano-boost nanites to supply you with just one hour of auto-boost mode. The maximum storage capacity of the whole system, including the emergency reserves would be just barely enough for 90 minutes of auto-boost. In addition to which, I've built in a few internal unpleasant simulated sensations into the active auto-boost mode that should make it easier to reserve it for true emergencies."

"Let me guess," Cindy joked. "It'll feel like I've got a terrible belly ache, while being forced to listen to some heavy metal artist ripping his larynx out." Sandra looked surprised.

"Almost Cindy," she admitted. "Actually I went with a sensation of pseudo-nausea, coupled with a dull pain in the back of the skull that gradually intensifies while you remain in auto-boost mode until it's worse than a migraine. And incidentally, I thought of something far more vile than heavy metal, I hard coded an extract from the ultra-bland music my bank plays on their telephone hold circuits. Except of course that it won't actually interfere with your ability to hear real sounds because the sound would actually just be simulated inside your brain. Which of course means that you won't be able to drown it out with other sounds."

"Now that is vile!" Cindy replied. Then she paused for a second to think about it. "Maybe even vile enough to keep me from using this auto-boost enough for it to become a problem. But that nausea part worries me a bit. I mean how effective would I be in an emergency if I'm busy hurling my guts out?"

"I did say pseudo-nausea," Sandra explained. "You'd be pretty much able to count on not actually regurgitating from it or anything else while in auto-boost mode. Though you might find yourself wishing you could.

Actually though Cindy, I went with a slightly less aggressive version of the concept that won't be quite as unpleasant. At least not for very short term use. That is for the first 5 minutes of the auto-boost mode, by which I mean while the system still has at least another 85 minutes worth in reserve, the pseudo-nausea will start as a slightly unsettled feeling and only gradually work up to the full sensation.

Likewise that annoying background music will start out with a somewhat muted effect. Like what you might still hear from a pair of headphones if they weren't quite positioned over your ears. But like the pseudo-nausea the simulated music will gradually work up to the inescapable sensation such as you might expect from a surgically implanted sound system.

Each time you toggle the auto-boost mode offline for at least 15 seconds, during that first 5 minutes of operation, the intensity of the unpleasant sensations will reset to the beginning. Though even if you learn to use it in very short bursts, if you don't wait the full 15 seconds between each use, the next one will start where the last one left off. Of course if you use it enough for the available supply of auto-boost nanites to dwindle down to less than 85 minutes worth of operation, all unpleasant sensations would suddenly be maximized.

So you see Cindy, you would only be able to avoid some of the unpleasant sensations, if you learn to use the auto-boost mode very sparingly. Which is actually another way to discourage overuse of the system."

After a little reflection, Cindy made up her mind.

"Alright Sandra, I guess I'm ready to give this a try," Cindy said. "But how do we do it?"

Sandra pulled something resembling one of her nano-med packets out of a desk draw.

"It'll take four of these, one every 12 hours or so," Sandra explained. "If your ready, I'll program the first one now."

Chapter 30 Counter Attack

"Well, that's all we can do with this until David's ready to feed it some power." Arnold said when they completed the last of the unpowered circuit tests, on the modifications they'd made to the power intake system of Arnold's shuttlecraft. "But speaking of power sources, I've been thinking about that "microfusion" power plant. Which you said was the power source for your defense shield. And frankly it doesn't add up. I mean even if your guild technology can build such a powerful dynamo that small, There's no way it could have held enough hydrogen to keep such a powerful shield dome over the island for so long."

Jake looked at Arnold thoughtfully for a moment before he explained.

"True enough Arnold," he finally admitted. "But the microfusion reactor component itself is even smaller than I let on. In truth it's not quite a guild design. Though much of it is based on guild technology. You see it's design was conceived by the mind of the most innovative questor there has ever been. And he designed in a feature or two that the guild itself never thought of. One such feature of the power plant I described includes a system that diverted a small fraction of the output to power a hydrogen replenishment device. Which in turn extracted a continuous stream of hydrogen from the moisture in the air."

"I still find it hard to believe," Arnold replied. "But I suppose that with all the steam in the air from where the river was starting to boil, I guess it's possible. Anyway I think it's time we get started on the weapon control circuits so that Luna command can't remotely disable them."

"I still think I should go with you!" Jess said.

Jake shook his head.

"I'm sorry Jess," Jake explained. "But there's a slight chance that Arnold can get the shuttle inside a docking bay, before they realize how badly they want to blast it. And I think it's something he really needs to do. Besides, I need somebody to be here for Sam when he gets back..."

Jess made an inarticulate sound.

"Why did you let him fly off like that anyway Jake?" Jess wanted to know. "He was in no condition to fly, never mind face what he'll find out there."

"Because it was something he had to do Jess," Jake explained. "If I had stopped him, it would have done him more harm than good. Now it's almost time to find out if this thing's going to fly. So I'm afraid I've gotta go get aboard the shuttle."

Jess made another inarticulate sound, but he stepped aside. Jake knew that there wouldn't be enough power to spare for a test run. They would have to hope everything worked the first time.

"Are you ready boys?" David's voice sounded from the shuttle's auxiliary communications circuit. "Last chance to back out."

Arnold looked back at Jake, who just nodded.

"Just heat it up David," Arnold said. "We're as ready as we're ever going to be."

"Very well then," David's voice said. "Initializing power transfer. Now!"

Suddenly the power gauges lit up. There were a few flashing warning lights. Then the shuttles computer complained about nonstandard power frequencies and hazardous power fluctuations. Next it warned them that the safety override circuit had failed and that it was unable to abort the power transfer.

"It's a good thing we hard wired the manual overrides!" Arnold exclaimed as he engaged the buoyancy envelope generation circuit.

Which used most of the general repulsor units mounted on the hull to push the surrounding air away from the shuttle. The resulting 'envelope' of near vacuum increased the shuttles effective volume, without increasing it's weight. Which in turn produced buoyancy and like a weather balloon, they began to rise rapidly into the sky. This took considerably less power than pushing directly against Slowlane's gravitational field.

When they reached sufficient altitude for the rarefied atmosphere to fail to provide enough lift, Arnold transferred most of the power to the long range repulsors which were now pointed at Slowlane. Though he reserved some power for the magnetic field manipulators, with which he used Slowlane's natural magnetic field to fine tune their trajectory into a rapid Luna transfer orbit.

"Attention incoming shuttle, this is Luna base," an unfriendly voice sounded from the main communications circuit. "We are under a lockdown quarantine. Veer off or you will be fired upon."

"Luna base, this is Luna shuttle alpha538," Arnold replied. "Security team leader prime Arnold Hunter commanding. I'm simply returning to base, check my transponder circuit for ID verification."

"Your identity is confirmed team leader," another voice said. "However we are still under lockdown quarantine. I must insist that you veer off. You are hereby instructed to assume a category 3 parking orbit, and await further instructions."

"Luna base, I'm afraid a parking orbit won't do" Arnold explained. "I declare this an omega class priority flight. I've got a hazardous prisoner aboard. I need to get him to a maximum security confinement bay before the power fails on the sleeper restraints."

"Team leader Hunter, this is commander Smith," an authoritative voice said. "What prisoner is that?"

"I caught the bastard who blew up the Scuttlebutt sir," Arnold said. "He tried to deny it but the fact that he survived the blast that killed my wife, is proof enough. So I pretended to believe him until he foolishly let his guard down."

"And just who might that be team leader?" commander Smith's voice inquired.

"Why that outworlder slime Jake Peterson of course sir," Arnold responded.

"In that case team leader, your prisoner is far too dangerous to permit him to regain consciousness," commander Smith's voice instructed. "As 'Supreme Luna Commander', I hereby command you to terminate the prisoner immediately. Then there will be no reason for you to fail to assume a category 3 orbit before we are forced to fire upon you."

Arnold switched off his voice input and muttered, "Good luck with that sir!" Suddenly an alarm sounded from the computer console.

"We've got an incoming missile Jake," Arnold said.

"I'm on it," Jake replied.

Jake quickly manipulated the focus settings of the ships x-ray laser from the weapons console. He fired a minimal burst that used less than 10% of their reserve power to prematurely detonate the missile.

"I've located the attacking vessel," Jake said. "It appears to be using some kind of chemically powered rocket engine for thrust. The bad news is they have at least 10 more of those missiles."

"It's a type two interceptor ship," Arnold's voice was strained as he replied. "They keep a few of those antiques around for training purposes and because they don't depend on remote power. As soon as they realize that we still have enough power to run the laser, they will try to launch all their missiles simultaneously. Then even the power David's still sending us won't be enough. I'm afraid your going to have to take them out."

Jake had already begun targeting the fuel tanks of the other ship.

"Sorry Arnold," Jake said as he fired a slightly longer burst from the x-ray laser. "Power reserves down to 70%. I suggest you take an evasive action before they manage to target us from the surface."

"Way ahead of you Jake," Arnold replied as he suddenly altered course.

It was almost too late.

A high energy particle beam sliced through the spot they would have been if he hadn't just changed course. It was so close that the electromagnetic effects of it's passage nearly fried them. The computer switched on the defense screen which deflected most of the electrical energy before it burned out. There was an electrical fire somewhere that was quickly filling the shuttles cockpit with smoke.

"We've lost the defense screen," Jake said. "The computer is also down. And I'm afraid were no longer getting David's power signal. Worse, still the power reserves are down to 40%. Which may be enough to make a soft landing. But if we spend any more power on evasive maneuvers we're going to hit hard. And if we don't..."

Arnold cut him off.

"We have just one option left," he said, once again in a flat emotionless voice. "And it depends on just how much internal impact your nanites can protect you from. I'm going to use every scrap of power we have left in a very unconventional maneuver. I'm going to try to bullseye a freight pod cannon. If I hit the trajectory just right and if they don't think to turn off it's safety override circuits, you will find yourself suddenly motionless in a freight bay." Then as he punched in the activation sequence for the course he had just manually plotted, Arnold added, "Tell Mary I love her!"

Since they were already rapidly approaching one of the massive freight pod launchers in a fast near surface trajectory. It didn't take long for the shuttles magnetic field manipulators to lock on to the residual magnetic field in the launch cannons pod guidance system.

Jake barely had time to toss a containment field pellet into Arnold's lap and command his nanites to generate a momentary protective containment field bubble around himself before they passed through the launch aperture of the pod cannon.

When his protective containment field faded, Jake tore a hole in the side of the Shuttle. By the time the hole was big enough, the containment field around Arnold's body had run out of power and collapsed. He grabbed Arnold by the waist and jumped. The shuttle was suspended some fifty feet above the floor by the magnetic grapples. It took every bit of the enhanced strength Jake had to keep from dropping Arnold's inert form when he landed on his feet.

He didn't wait for for anyone to respond to the alarms that echoed in the freight bay. Jake also didn't bother with any of the obvious doorways but instead launched himself at the ventilation system as he sent hundreds of nano-pods on reconnaissance and system infiltration missions. As well as some on a medical mission into Arnold's body. He didn't stay in the ventilation system long. By the time he exited it however, his nano-pods had gained enough control over the security sensors as to make his movements invisible to Luna security. A few minutes later, he deposited Arnold's inert form on a toilet in a woman's restroom. He checked the status of the nano-pods he had assigned to restore Arnold's body. It had been a close thing but the containment field had limited the damage to within that which his nanites could repair in time.

He sent one more nano-pod to attach itself in Arnold's inner ear. There to wait until he regained consciousness before giving him a message. A few minutes later Jake was in another section of the base when he allowed someone to get a momentary glimpse of him. This was the start of a pattern that he hoped would cause them to focus their search efforts away from the spot he'd left Arnold's unconscious form. After several such sightings, leading in several different directions he began his real mission. At least power supply wasn't a problem now. There were plenty of power sources within the walls that his nanites could tap into but he had to be careful if he didn't want them to track him by the drain he put on their power systems.

Commander Smith was livid with anger at the incompetence of the security details that hadn't been able to locate the intruder. He had actually been on his feet since he had ordered the power satellites to beam raw, unfiltered energy at prime Miller's island. So he decided he would be more effective if he briefly got some rest. He assigned a crack combat detail to guard his private cabin. Then he went inside and activated a secure lockout program that should insure he was undisturbed. The commander undressed and stepped into the sonic shower to cleanse the sweat from his body before laying down. It was the last thing he would ever do.

***

Sam finally spotted the bridge ahead but his thruster was out of power. He tried to glide the rest of the way to the edge of the island. However he soon realized he was going to fall short. They were going to drown in the river and there was nothing he could do about it.

Then he saw a small power boat approaching from the island. It was moving towards him at a recklessly rapid speed. The surface of the river was choppy from the outflow of Davids hydraulic power plant. The small craft was moving fast enough that it bounced on the choppy water so hard that the operator was nearly thrown overboard twice as the boat raced to meet the descending ultralight. The second time the crazy boater was nearly thrown overboard he was close enough for Sam to recognize him.

Jess nearly lost his grip on the wheel as he scrambled back into the seat but he didn't even slow down. At least not until he had spun the boat around to match speed and direction with Sam. Jess got under him about two seconds before he would have splashed into the river.

***

Jake kept out of sight as much as possible. It wasn't too difficult. All he had to do to disappear was to get out of sight for a few seconds. Find a spot where nobody would trip over him. The corner of almost any room would do. Then command his nanites to cover him with an image morphing layer that would bend the light around him in such a way that all they would see was the wall behind him. Then remain motionless until there wasn't anybody looking. He combined that technique with using his nanites to infect the circuits of any hi-tech sensor systems they found, so that they also failed to report his presence. Then when the search team had moved on, he could find a power source to recharge from and continue with his mission.

Which was the sabotage of all weapon systems that Luna base could possibly attack anyone on the planet's surface with. His biggest problem was the way the power transmission satellites had been used as a weapon. Those systems weren't actually on Luna and David had said that eventually they would be able to resynchronize the satellite control systems. So while he was running around wrecking carnage in one place after another, his nanites were busy hacking into the command systems that would eventually be used to control them. They would implant a multi-layered stealth worm. That would quietly hide until the command systems began talking to the satellites. Then it would infect every satellite it connected with, with a virus that would cause it to self destruct if it was commanded to beam destructive energy at Slowlane. In the mean time he found and destroyed layer after layer of laser and missile systems.

He was shot at several times. His nanites were usually able to deploy a defense shield to deflect the small arms fire. On those occasions when something did get through, they set about healing his body. He never bled enough to leave a trail, so all he had to do was find a hiding place until the damage was repaired again. He tried to keep the casualties to a minimum but inevitably, almost every time he blew up a weapon system, there would be some fatalities.

Arnold was surprised to find himself alive. He hadn't really had a chance to wonder about it when Jake's recorded voice sounded in his inner ear.

"Your one lucky bastard you know," Jake's nano-pod said. "If you'd have given me just one more second's warning I could have prevented your fatal injuries. As it was it was all I could do to limit the damage to something my nanites could repair. Please try not to get yourself killed again, as by now I'm a bit busy. I've declared a one man war on this base. I'll try not to kill any more of your friends than I must Arnold. But the military capabilities of Luna base 'shall' be totally disabled. And you can damn well tell Mary yourself. End recording."

By the time he'd heard the whole message Arnold had figured out where he was. He breathed a sigh of relief when he extracted himself from the woman's facility without being spotted. Arnold had been a security man at Luna for so long that he knew almost all the security codes. There were security teams running back and forth all over the place. This made it relatively easy for him to blend in. All he had to do was avoid bumping into anyone who knew him personally.

He had modified his ID tag and acquired a body armor equipped combat uniform, complete with a shock rifle. He hoped that Jake's mission would succeed but there wasn't much else he could do to ensure that. So instead he had decided that it was time to begin his own personal mission. That was just before the commander decided he needed a nap.

When the commander stepped into the sonic shower, a cabinet door in his personal pantry began to open. When the commander was sufficiently refreshed he deactivated the sonic emitter and started to step out of the stall. He was totally unprepared to see a man in body armor holding a shock riffle pointed in his direction. Then he heard a familiar voice.

"It was a waste of time taking a shower commander," Arnold informed his superior officer. "Nothing can wash away the stain of your guilt." The commander opened his mouth to protest but Arnold modified his aim slightly and fired a brief low power burst. The shock rifle sent a pulse of conflicting repulsor and attractor beams into the commanders groin. Literally ripping the naked mans genitals to shreds.

"That's for what you nearly did to Mary," Arnold said just before the commander started to fully feel the pain of his injury. Then as Arnold saw the commanders face distort in agony, he added, "And this is for what you did to the people of Shipend."

As he said that he modified the aperture setting for a broader, less focused field of disruption and squeezed the trigger. He was still squeezing it long after the screaming had stopped.

Jake had disabled almost every long range weapon system at Luna base when he detected that Luna itself was beginning to rotate. At first he was puzzled. Then he realized that the drive systems that had been built in to it for it's interstellar journey still existed. The next thing he realized was that in a few minutes the massive gamma laser system on the far side of the moon would be pointed at Slowlane. It hadn't been designed as a weapon. It had been a primary component of the old drive system. It didn't have any precision targeting system. The smallest area it could possibly target was a continental land mass. Yet someone was about to point it at Slowlane. Worse, the power and control systems for the old drive systems were located at the farside base. Which was too far away for his nanites to infiltrate in time. Then in a moment of inspiration he knew what he had to do.

The commander's guard detail had heard the commander's screams. They tried, to gain entry to the commanders quarters. Unfortunately for the commander, they could not override his secure lockout program but there was no way for Arnold to escape them. It was only a mater of time before a construction crew would arrive with the tools needed to cut through the 3 inch steel walls.

Now that the commander had paid for his crimes, Arnold calmly waited for them to cut their way in. He had no illusions about what they would do to him when they did so. He expected no mercy but Arnold had been prepared for death from the moment his shuttle left David's island behind. He also knew the commander's guards were essentially innocent. So he simply put his weapons away and used the commander's computer to record a final farewell to Mary. He never got to send it however.

He noticed that the cutting tool had almost completed the 2 ½ foot hole through which they would enter and kill him. So he quickly finished recording his message and reached for the transmit key. At that moment the floor shook as an immense shock wave tore through the Luna surface. Causing half the power circuits in the entire Luna complex to fail. Including most of the high priority power circuits like the power supply to the commander's computer.

There were also structural collapses in many locations throughout the base. The commander's quarters wasn't one of those. So when Arnold picked himself off the floor in the nearly complete darkness, he had plenty of time to lament that Mary would never hear his farewell. The corridor outside however wasn't so fortunate. The two man construction crew who had been operating the high powered cutter were both killed when the corridor collapsed.

The six man assault team had also lost two men. All of which angered it's team leader. Though not nearly so much as the fact that there wasn't any power for the cutter to cut through the last two inches of the circle. He was certain that the commander was already dead but it was his duty to kill the assassin and he couldn't get in there to do so. He was so frustrated by this that he broke several bones in his foot. In a futile attempt to kick the hanging piece of steel out of the way.

***

Jess began helping Sam, get himself and Sue's limp form out of his flight rig.

"Never mind me," Sam screamed. "Just get some damn nano-meds in her quick! And get her to Jake now!" Jess took Sam's word for Sue's need and quickly stuffed both of the nano-med packets he had brought with him into Sue's mouth.

"OK Sam, I've just given her a double dose of your reserve nano-meds," Jess explained.

"That's good," Sam said. "But she needs something a lot stronger. Now hurry up and get her to Jake." Jess just shook his head.

"I wish I could Sam," he said. "But Jake isn't here." Then after a slight pause, he continued "He's busy pounding the shit out of those bastards on Luna base."

David met them at the dock. He'd been listening to the open communications circuit on his boat.

"Don't worry Sam," he said. "I've got the very best of Slowlane's medical technology in my med-lab. Whatever those nano-meds of yours can't fix, I probably can." Sam didn't look convinced.

***

First Jake had modified the control program of the freight pod launcher. Then he rapidly launched a half dozen of the heaviest freight pods in the loading bay on a short suborbital trajectory. They impacted the gamma laser array just as it began it's primary power cycle. This resulted in a massive power circuit feedback and a chain reaction of explosions in a series of power storage facilities. By the time the explosions were done, all that was left of the farside base was large crater and a massive shock wave that was moving towards the Luna command center.

A few hours later the first of the troop carriers from the Wildland spaceport arrived. They were running with only minimal power from the new transmitter that the best available technology primes had rushed to build. It was transmitting from the only fusion reactor on the planet. Which was located about five miles from the spaceport. The original plan had called for a suicide mission to crash at least one ship, full of high explosives, into Luna base. The theory was that if they sent every ship they had and if none of them slowed down. Then even Luna's extensive defense systems might fail to shoot down one of them. before it could crash into the base. It's odds of success were not good but it was the only hope they had. Until, just before they were quite ready to launch, the moon had begun to rotate.

By the time they were launch capable, they had detected the series of explosions that destroyed farside base. They quickly calculated that the shock wave must have done significant damage to the base. So they shelved the multiple suicide mission, in favor of sending troop ships. Even so, they were not prepared for the extensive damage that the shipboard sensor arrays were able to locate in the underground facility. They didn't meet with any resistance when they landed. Nor did any of the next ten shuttles. When sufficient power was restored to finish cutting that hole into the commander's quarters. It was no longer a death squad waiting for Arnold.

He was however arrested. He had technically murdered his commanding officer. Additionally he had done so in a particularly brutal way. They didn't even try to arrest Jake. He had after all been granted ambassadorial status when he first arrived. Aside from which it could be argued that his retaliation against Luna base had been in self defense.

It took nearly a week to locate the stasis chamber in which commander Smith had entombed Jake's ship after his best technicians had failed to force their way inside. The power network was up by then. Which was mostly thanks to David's help. David had incorporated a version of Jake's worm in the new control systems. The satellites could be used to defend against attacking spacecraft but nobody could get them to unleash such destructive power against anyplace on Slowlane. The amazing thing was that this was all done with the official approval of the government.

Jake had used the resources of his ship to repair much of the damage done to Luna base. Once he determined that they really were serious about building in real safeguards he also helped them restore some of the defensive weapon systems. Then, when he requested permission to attend Arnold's trial by service tribunal, they even let him land his ship at the spaceport. Which was also the site of the trial.

They let Jake attend but they didn't allow him to speak on Arnold's behalf. David Miller however, was permitted to speak. First he reminded them that if it wasn't for Arnold's bravery, the odds were that the isolationists would have won. Then he pointed out how many times Arnold's wife had been attacked. It was true that she would have only been collateral damage. Nonetheless Commander Smith had known her personally. He was a regular guest at her diner table. Yet he had known she'd be in the line of fire for each of the attacks he'd authorized. It was little wonder that Arnold had taken it personally. Eventually it was time for the tribunal to decide his fate. The tribunal, consisted of the three highest ranking service commanders. Which included commander Burlson and two others Jake hadn't met. The tribunal consulted together privately for only a few minutes.

Then they proclaimed that they had considered the points raised by the esteemed prime Miller. They were further impressed by the fact that Arnold himself had refused to ask for mercy from the court. However none of that would allow them to ignore the fact that he was an officer of the service when he, without orders from a superior, murdered his commanding officer. This offense carried a mandatory death penalty.

Then they said that there was just one thing that could allow them to rule otherwise. They had heard testimony of a nervous breakdown that Arnold had suffered when he believed that Mary had perished in the blast that destroyed the Scuttlebutt. They allowed that no qualified person had actually then ruled him fit for duty before he flew the assault mission. Thus they determined that Arnold should have been reclassified as unstable. Which would have, at least temporarily, cost him his commission.

At this point in the proceedings they actually voided Arnold's commission, retroactively to the moment of his reported breakdown. Then since he was technically now considered to have been a civilian at the time of his offense, he couldn't be charged with it as a 'service crime'. Though he would have to be tried as a civilian for the crime of murdering his former commanding officer. They would therefore recommend to the civilian courts that his case be dismissed for reason of heroism. They also expressed sorrow that his now documented history of mental instability would make him permanently ineligible to return to active duty, regardless of the ruling of the civilian court system.

At first Arnold was at a loss. He said that the service had been his whole life and that he would actually have preferred the death penalty as a serviceman. That is until David offered him a position at his island, stating that he needed a lot of good men to help rebuild the community that had once surrounded his island. At which point, David addressed the tribunal.

"If it please the court," prime Miller said. "I have a request for the tribunal to consider while the special oversight powers granted to it, for reason of the disastrous conditions of the entire region surrounding my home, are still in place."

Commander Burlson focused his pale green eyes on David while he silently considered his response.

"I presume then prime Miller, that this request is both related to the disaster and within the scope of the tribunal's authority," the commander finally said. It wasn't a question and required no answer. Commander Burlson then continued with little discernible pause. "You may make your request."

"Thank you!" David replied. "As the tribunal is aware, my region has suffered greatly due to commander Smith's misuse of his military authority. You are also aware that the cost of repairing all the damage done to the infrastructure will likely exceed our means. However the tribunal may be unaware of a resource available to us while our 'outworlder' visitors are still here.

As you know the one named Jake is an apprentice to a questor of the 'Cosmic Sailors Guild'. As such, he has at least most of the resources of a questor at his disposal. Jake has kindly offered to use the considerable resources of his ship to repair some of the damages. He needs only your permission. With this ship he could do in just a few days, much of what will otherwise take us several years to accomplish. It would however require that he be free to maneuver his ship as an aircraft and to deploy high energy technology. My request therefore is that you grant him temporary permission to do so on our behalf."

Commander Burlson sighed and briefly rubbed his temples.

"The tribunal will consider your request prime Miller," the commander replied. "Though I point out that it does pose a significant procedural problem for us. However considering Jake's recent actions on our behalf at Luna base, I myself am inclined to grant this request. However I must confer privately with the other members of the tribunal before I can so rule. This may take a few days. But in the mean time, if my fellow commanders do not object, I see no reason why Jake can't be permitted to overfly the area with his ship. In order to map out the exact details of what he is willing to do for us. Then we can decide based on a more precise knowledge of what we are authorizing."
***

Thanks to the combination of the advanced medical technology from David's medical lab. Along with two of the best nano-med packets Hillside's own technology could provide, Sue survived. What's more, with the neuro-map that Slowlane's medical records maintained on all primes, they were able to overlay and repair most of the brain damage. Which had been beyond the nano-med's time sensitive ability to undo. Sam took great solace, if little pleasure from this. The neuro-map couldn't restore lost memories of events that occurred after the last recording. Unfortunately this included some of what happened on the recent trail ride. In particular she didn't remember getting so close to Sam.

She remembered nothing of their overnight conversation. She believed Sam when he tried to tell her, he knew things that she wouldn't have told him if she hadn't begun to have such feelings but the links to the feelings themselves were gone. Worse, she couldn't look at Jake, Jess, or even Sam anymore, without reliving the nightmare of the screams of her trail crew who hadn't been close enough to the rock shelter. As well as the frightened look in Nelly's eyes when the dear old, loyal and impossibly smart, mare had fairly pushed her into the inner cave. Or the never ending horse screams that were accompanied by the smell of burning flesh as Nelly was cooked alive.

It was hard for Sam to realize that the kindest thing he could do for Sue, was to never make her see his face again. Jake made the mistake of trying to tell Sam how sorry he was that he hadn't been there when the damage was still fresh enough that his personal nanites might have made a difference.

"Shut the fuck up you bastard!" Sam screamed at him. "You can't know what this feels like. I wish you did. But you can't. So don't you dare talk to me!"

After that Jake wisely left Sam to deal with his sorrow on his own. So he left Sam and Jess on David's estate, while he surveyed the regional damage. The affected area was extensive. In fact, since some of the power satellites were too far away to cleanly focus their beams on David's estate, the poorly focused beams had affected some fairly distant, high altitude areas. Jake hovered over one such area and surveyed the damage done to the cleft on the hill. Where he had slept under the canopy of a daggerthorn tree.

Jake was particularly saddened by the extent of the damage to the trees from which he'd felt something reminiscent of sentience. Most of the multi-trunked tree cluster had been incinerated. There was only one small corner of the cleft in the hill where the rocky walls had shielded it from the direct thermal radiation that had scorched the very ground. There, there was a single remaining scorched trunk. Most of it's branches were severely damaged. There were just a few lower branches on one side of the one remaining trunk system with any remaining needles. Most of which were scorched. Then Jake remembered the cute little squirrel that had swapped him an acorn for a few peanuts. It made him even sadder to think of the horribly painful death the little critter must have suffered.

He decided to send a few nano-pods to find out if there was anything he could do for the daggerthorn tree. Jake wasn't sure if daggerthorn trees invested enough energy in their root systems for spontaneous regrowth or not. Judging from the above ground damage however, the chances of it surviving unaided long enough to do so were slim. It wasn't strictly necessary for Jake to land nor even to open the hatch, just to send a few nano-pods on their reconnaissance mission but he felt like it was the right thing to do.

Even as Jake stepped down onto the scorched ground, he received a preliminary report from his nano-pods that there were three small mammalian life forms underneath one of the few bottom branches with any needles left. Their life signs were fading fast however. When Jake investigated. he found a kind of nest in what used to be one of the least accessible branch clusters of the daggerthorn trees.

In it there were two badly burned adult squirrels partially covering three small young squirrels with their bodies, in such a way as to suggest that they had tried to use their own bodies to shield their offspring from the heat. In this they were only partially successful. Only one of the three juveniles was still breathing. Jake decided to improve their chances by using some of his nanites for nano-meds.

Even as he did so, Jake got a detailed report from the nano-pods that he had sent into the tissues of the daggerthorn to assess the extent of it's internal damage. What he saw, looked like the daggerthorn had used it's ability to pump water through it's roots and trunks to keep the branches over the stricken squirrels moist enough that rapid evaporation had slightly cooled the nest. What was even more surprising was that it seemed this had been done to the point where the trunk had evidently suffered more extensive damage than it otherwise would have. Because so much of the moisture that could have provided it with protection from the blistering heat had been redirected to the squirrel's nest.

Now though, the daggerthorn's ability to pump water through it's trunk system had been severely compromised. Jake's nanites were not designed to serve as horticultural nano-meds but it was well within Jake's current abilities to wrap the damaged trunk and several branches with a web like micro pumping system. Then strategically splice it's micro-tubing into the tree in several places. That might keep the daggerthorn alive long enough for it's own natural healing process to repair or replace the damaged sections.

Jake carefully programmed a couple pounds of generic nano-material from the ships stores to do most of the job. The control module itself required less than a milligram of his own nanites. When he had done all he could, Jake turned to leave but he was stopped short by an intensely emotional wave of psychic energy emanating from both the daggerthorn's root system and one of the squirrels. The psychic waves consisted of a measure of both gratitude and frustration but by far the strongest sensation was of bewilderment.

Jake was now absolutely certain that the squirrel and the daggerthorn had in fact formed a symbiotic relationship. He was also sure that the symbionts wanted to know why he was trying to help them. There was also something that he couldn't quite figure out until the rapidly healing squirrel crawled over to a small crevice in the base of the cleft wall and dug out a single charred, but quite recognizable acorn. Then Jake understood and he quickly returned to his ship and extracted every single nut that remained in the galley supplies. As he considered if it would be enough, Jake realized that the moment he had decided to retrieve the nuts, the waves of psychic energy had stopped resisting his return to the ship. While Jake mused on the meaning of that, he decided to also extract all the remaining breakfast cereals as well. This he decided would be enough to tide the squirrels over until more natural foodstuffs could be discreetly arranged.

A couple days before their departure from Slowlane, Jake finally managed to have a truly private conversation with prime Miller. David didn't question Jake's reasons for insisting that the matter be kept in the strictest confidence.

"Well my friend," David said. "If I'm to keep both your theory of a nearly sentient symbionce and the importance you place on the well being of that particular daggerthorn and squirrel, out of the minds of our ecological primes. While also accelerating the replenishment of their environmental needs. I'm going to have to take a more active role in managing the regional restoration program than I had intended. And..." David hesitated for a moment. "Though I hate to ask, I'm going to need a few specialized resources that I simply can't get from Slowlane without raising too many eyebrows. Would it be possible for you to entrust me with a few hundred pounds of guild nano-material and a manufacturing grade control system?"

"A few 'hundred' pounds you say," Jake replied somewhat skeptically. "That's more than I've got on board. Besides the guild would consider that a very serious violation. But, what I could do, is set you up with a bit of licensed Hillside technology in the form of a portable non-guild nano-manufacturing tool. That, given enough energy and the right raw materials, should be able to build the stuff you need. But be aware that it will only be licensed for your personal use. Let anyone else touch it and it will self destruct. Will that do?"

"Hillside?" David queried. "If Hillside's nanotech is half as good as it's aerospace technologies are reputed to be, then it should do nicely."

Jake just smiled.

Chapter 31 Security And Other Lost Causes

Cindy was enjoying herself. The new command interface was a joy to use. The current external nano-control center was actually composed of high end nano-morphic material that could be reformed into almost anything it's mass would allow. Currently it was segregated into 4 pieces of realistic looking gold like 'jewelry'. There were two large gold wrist bands and a heavy golden chain around her neck and finally, suspended on a deceptively flimsy looking chain the color of platinum, there hung between her breast a large cut red crystal that could easily be mistaken for a million dollar ruby.

She was also wearing one of the nano-leather creations Sam had made for her. This one was light brown. With several series of slightly darker brown spots in a pattern that resembled the spots on a leopard. The outfit had three default configurations. In the most modest configuration, each of the leopard like spots were outlined with a dotted line like series of perforations. Where the individual perforations were so fine it was hard to see any of her skin through them. There would be two shoulder straps. Each with a modestly wide front section that cupped one of her breasts. After which it continued down to merge into the top edge of a knee length wrap around skirt.

In the Standard configuration one of the shoulder straps would disappear, completely exposing one of her breasts. Additionally the length of it's skirt segment would only make it halfway to her knees.

Then there was it's most racy configuration where the center of each spot became a large perforation through which some of her skin could easily be seen and the skirt became so short that it barely extended an inch and a half below her crotch.

The outfit also included matching leather boots. The height of which, in each configuration, extended two thirds of the way between her ankles and the bottom edge of that configuration's skirt.

When she stepped out of the transit pod access chamber at the Micronic's R & D building, Cindy reconfigured her leather from the racy pattern to the standard one. She wondered how long it would take the straight laced security personnel to hassle her for the exposed breast.

She hadn't taken three steps before she knew something was wrong. She wasn't sure what but the building didn't feel right. She thought for a moment about stepping back into the pod system and sending help from Hillside but she was worried about Sandra. So instead she reached into her shoulder bag and pulled out a small cylinder which quickly expanded into a fair resemblance of a 'Sisterhood' combat staff. Then she decided not to trust the elevator. So she headed for the stairs. She needed to climb 3 flights and pass through a concealed security door just to get to the lowest official basement level. Then she needed to climb another 14 to get to the floor Sandra had said she'd be working on.

She had only climbed 6 of those when she sensed that something was rapidly and silently coming up behind her. Suddenly Cindy spun on her heals and struck with her staff. She had almost waited too long. Her blow just barely deflected the charging whiffer beast. It bounced off the wall and came back at her but this time she saw it coming and shoved one end of her staff down it's throat. This wasn't quite enough to stop it however. It grabbed her staff and pulled itself closer in an effort to reach her neck with it's hairy hands. The far end of the staff burst through the beasts scrotum, but it kept pulling itself closer.

At this point Cindy fired a massive electrical charge from the power stored in her wrist bands through her staff and into the whiffer's body. Even as it burst into flames Cindy felt another threat coming from above her. She began to turn around to face the new threat and just barely out of the corner of her eye, she saw the second whiffer beast in mid jump from the stairs above. It knocked her down to the landing below her as it wrapped it's hands in a vice like grip around her throat. She realized that if this whiffer's nanites were anything like the one that had attacked her in the woods behind Hillside, then her nano-systems would soon be overrun by the ones defending the beast. She hoped that she still had time to send at least one command into her external command system. Which resulted in the release of all the energy stored in the ruby-like gem between her tits in the form of a wide angle particle beam that incinerated the whiffer and blew a hole through the side of the staircase.

When Cindy got there, Sandra's lab resembled her old VR pod lab the day Jake had an adverse reaction to a VR simulation. That is to say it looked like a war zone. A strange figure in some kind of body armor was in the middle of placing Sandra's unconscious form into a glowing translucent sphere which suddenly became opaque as soon as he removed his hands. Then the armored man produced a sonic disruptor and fired it at the spot Cindy had just vacated.

Fortunately she had already activated full auto-boost mode while fighting the whiffers. Then the extreme effort she had put into running up the rest of the stairs had resulted in a general strength boost. Cindy could also feel the effects of the elixir Kernislarn had given her when she became an honorary Sister of Rebirth. It's effects were accelerating her synaptic reactions four times faster than her normal best. She also had her Sisterhood training and a bag full of nanotech weapons to draw on.

Nonetheless she only just barely stayed one jump ahead of the armored man as he fired blast after blast in rapid succession from a high intensity sonic disruptor at her. Each shot just barely missing her. As she dodged his sonic blasts, Cindy also threw a few gadgets from her bag at her adversary. Each of which were defeated in some way or other by the intruder's high tech armor. Even the concussion grenade had been subdued by an automatically deployed defense screen his armor emitted just in time. His armor seemed equipped to handle anything she could throw at him.

In desperation Cindy commanded her interface to reprogram every scrap of nanomorphic material she had left on her, from her nano-leather outfit to her external command module itself. It's last command function was to reform all the nanomorphic material into one self consuming directional charge. That consisted of a directional burst of corrosive nanomorphic material, energized by the combined power of every last scrap of energy remaining in every single one of her systems.

Unfortunately, to deploy the shaped charge she had to stand still long enough so that even as her corrosive charge exploded at her adversary, she took the brunt of one of his sonic disruptor blasts. When Cindy came to, Al was leaning over her and a half dozen tough looking characters she didn't know, two wearing Hillside security uniforms and the rest wearing Micronic security uniforms, who were milling around what was left of Sandra's lab.

Al's brother Adam was holding some oversized gadget against the opaque glowing sphere while somebody in a Micronic lab coat fussed with it's controls. Then Cindy noticed that a massive chunk of the building was missing. Her blast had been pointed a little to one side of the building center. The gaping hole in the lab wall extended clean through to the other side of the building. The hole extended at least two floors upwards and another two downwards. She vaguely realized that she was stark naked with a splitting headache, then everything went dark again.

***

The fringe effect flight back to the portal intake point seemed to take forever. Sam spent almost the whole time just sitting and crying. Which in turn saddened his friends almost beyond their own ability to cope. Until at last they returned to normal space and Jake maneuvered the shuttle until they were in an unstable solar orbit that would match velocity with the earths crust. Then as Jess began to encode the portal request signal, Sam finally broke his silence.

"Please forgive me for taking this out on you two," he said. "Especially you Jake. I know it wasn't really your fault... I'm going to try to pretend that everything's OK when we get to Hillside. It won't be but I don't want to explain it to my friends down there. So please don't tell anybody about it. Please?"

"We won't say a word about it Sam," Jake promised.

He almost wished he hadn't upgraded the normally flamboyant young man from a kitchen worker to a member of his core team. If he hadn't brought the young man off planet his heart wouldn't have been so wounded.

"But you do know," Jess added. "Some of them good people down there will know something is wrong. No mater how good you paint your face."

The short redheaded mechanic was concerned about his friend. Who to be sure was an expert makeup artist but nobody who really knew him would fail to notice his sadness.

"I know," Sam admitted. "Would you just open the portal?"

Ahead of them a black disk appeared. As they slowly drifted closer it suddenly transformed into an image of Hillside's shuttle bay. Then just as suddenly as they had left, the shuttle was inside the hanger level.

The three of them exited the shuttle and walked towards the elevator. Behind them the shuttle cradle lowered the shuttle through the hole that appeared in the floor. Where other mechanisms would see to it that the shuttle was serviced and stored in it's designated storage rack.

When the elevator opened Stephanie stepped out of it, wearing only her customary grass skirt.

"You're just in time boys," the half naked blond girl said. "We've just received an automated distress call from the remote portal link on the planet LosLand..." She broke off in mid smile and asked with a suddenly concerned look on her face, "What's wrong Sam?"

"Nothing!" he snapped at her. Then added in a more friendly tone, "At least nothing I want to talk about Stephanie. But thanks for your concern."

"You don't sound very thankful about it Sam," Stephanie replied. "But I know when to butt out." Then turning her attention back to all three of them. "It's just a bare portal jump away. Would you boys care to check it out with me? The portal link will be ready in about an hour."

"That would just about give me enough time," Jake said. "To use some of Hillside's prime nano-material reserves to rebuild my microfusion power source." As he said this Jake produced the still weakly flashing device which was disguised as a cigarette lighter. "It could use a somewhat more robust design. So I guess I'm in too. But I'd like to talk with Cindy before we leave."

"That might be a problem," Stephanie said. "Last I saw her she was on her way to spend the day at Sandra's lab."

"Figures!" said Jake.

"I guess I'm in as well," Jess said.

"Me too," said Sam. Then he added, "I don't think I'm ready to face everybody here anyway."

Jake frowned for a moment.

"You did say LosLand, right Stephanie?" he asked.

Though he didn't actually need to. His nanites would have recorded everything he heard. He didn't usually preserve such things in long term storage but his standard record loop was configured to hold the past 24 hours of audio/video data.

Jess picked up on Jake's intent and followed up with another question. One that he was 99.9% sure he knew the answer to.

"Isn't LosLand still a feudal culture with an excessively rigid moral code?" he asked.

Stephanie raised an eyebrow before she replied.

"Yes and yes," she said as she glanced at each of them in turn.

"I thought so," Jake began his pitch. "You're welcome to come along Sam but once we get there you're going to have to operate in full stealth mode. The people there wouldn't react well to your natural appearance and usual demeanor. One look at your tattoos would start a riot. And frankly, even the blacks of your eyes would likely be enough for them to decide to burn you at the stake."

Sam thought about that for a second. He was well aware that having the whites of his eyes tattooed black had made his appearance disturbing to some people.

"So how about I test some of the espionage gear that Sandra designed for me?" he suggested. "Like overlaying someone else's image over my own, so that they won't exactly see me."

Jake sighed.

"Yeah, that might work if..." Jake hesitated briefly. "Look Sam, I wouldn't want you to take this the wrong way. But it's easier to change what you look and sound like than to conceal the way you normally move. What I mean is, it might be best if you mapped a female image over your own."

Sam didn't quite smile.

"Thank you!" he said as if he'd been complimented.

Almost an hour later, the four of them met in the small portal chamber. Jess was there first. He was wearing an unadorned steel helmet and an overcoat of fine chain mail. Under which he wore a leather tunic and knee length boots. Strapped to his back was a pair of sheathed short swords with their handles sticking up. One behind each shoulder.

Jake walked in wearing a slightly more ornate hooded tunic and sandals, with a long bow slung over one shoulder and a quiver full of twenty arrows slung over the other.

The 'girls' came in together. They were both wearing flowing ankle length silk gowns that in themselves did little to hide their feminine charms. They also had hooded woolen cloaks fastened about their necks. Which if properly draped over their shoulders would conceal enough. So that only a close look would reveal the color of the gown beneath it. Of course at the moment, both of their cloaks were draped behind their shoulders, effectively uncloaking both front and profile views of the 'girls'.

Stephanie's silk gown was a delicate shade of pink. Her woolen cloak was a deep shade of burgundy. She carried a simple wooden staff which she appeared to use as an aid to walking. She moved with a rigid stiffness that seemed to suggest back problems.

Her nubile companion's silk gown was a delicate chartreuse and her cloak was forest green.

Jake eyes widened when he saw how much Sam had managed to look like his Cindy.

The Standard attire for ladies of the court in LosLand didn't actually require that ladies do much to hide their feminine charms. Especially when escorted by champions who were able to defend their virtue. Thus the gowns were traditionally fairly translucent.

"Sandra's handiwork is getting better every day," Jake said. "Heck if my nano-pods hadn't confirmed that it really is a body-cloak you're wearing Sam, I'd think my Cindy was back and pulling my leg. Speaking of which Sam, don't be surprised if I wind up dumping a wet blanket of nano-pheromones on us all..."

"What's the matter Jake," Stephanie asked with a grin. "Are you afraid of not being able to tell the difference?"

A look of hurt and anger flashed across Jake's face but he held his tongue.

"It's a reasonable fear Jake," Stephanie said a little more gently. "I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be able to tell either."

"The difference is Stephanie," Sam spoke up crossly. "Like me, you don't much care which gender you're playing with. I think it was very insensitive of you to say such a thing to Jake."

Stephanie sounded sincere when she responded.

"Sam's right," she said. "I shouldn't have said that to you Jake. I'm sorry."

By then however, Jake had regained his composure.

"Forget it!" he said. "I don't want my friends to be afraid to joke around with me. It's just that you caught me a little off guard. But it looks like the portals ready. Shall we go?"

Stephanie opened a drawer under the main console and removed 4 crystal disks. She tossed one of them to Jess who quickly tucked it away in a small pocket concealed on the inside of his tunic. She held another out to Sam.

"This is your recall device Sam," she said. "Take care not to lose it. With it you can signal the portal control system to open an escape portal back to Hillside. Jake of course, like Steve, doesn't actually need one." As she said this she held out a third disk towards Jake. "But Steve always took one with him anyway."

Jake looked thoughtful for a second.

"Why break with tradition," he said as he accepted the disk from Stephanie.

The portal opened into a dimly lit cave. What light there was shined dimly through a waterfall that fell from some place above and billowed out over the cave mouth. An unkempt man dressed in crudely made leather had been sleeping on a fur against the far wall. He sat up suddenly, obviously startled by their arrival. He looked at the four of them with obvious skepticism.

"Who are you?" He demanded as the portal closed behind them. "And where is the old man?"

Stephanie gestured toward a small stone pedestal in the center of the chamber where there was a crystal disk similar to the ones the four of them carried. Then she held up her recall disk for the stranger to see.

"Are you not the one who called us forth?" she asked. "And which old man do you speak of?"

Darg thought quickly. The woman was holding a disk much like his own and she had appeared by way of a magic door like the one the old mage had left by.

"It was I who called," he acknowledged. "But I was expecting the old man who gave me this disk." As he spoke Darg retrieved his disk from the pedestal and tucked it in his neck pouch.

"It was however a long time ago," Darg admitted. "Tell me he still lives."

Jess stepped forward.

"If the old man you speak of was indeed the one who left that disk here," he said. "Then yes, he lives. But he is away on another long voyage. So we have come in his place."

"He would have told you," Jake explained. "To use the disk if you needed help. I am his apprentice. As such I bid you to tell me of yourself and of your need."

Darg looked closely at Jake. Then he shook his head.

"You may call me Darg," he said. "His apprentice you may be. But if you have not been prepared for the peril he bid me to watch for then you are not yet ready. Please send for your master before it is too late."

Jake considered correcting the man as to the nature of the relationship he had with Steve but he decided to let it pass.

"As my friend told you," Jake said. "My teacher is away on a long journey and so is not available. However, he prepared me for many things. I merely need to know which of them this one is."

Darg wasn't convinced that the young mage had the wisdom to understand.

"Perhaps he has prepared you," Darg said with a shrug. "Though if you were truly prepared for that which is upon us. Then it is strange that you would knowingly bring defenseless women into such danger."

Darg didn't see the lady in the red cloak move the staff she was leaning on. In fact he didn't see it move at all but he was suddenly aware that it had moved. Just as he was aware that it had suddenly stopped moving, just short of his testicles.

Jess stepped closer and looked Darg in the eyes.

"It would be a mistake," he said as he glanced downwards at the staff Stephanie held motionless between Darg's legs. "To think that these particular ladies," Jess let his eyes drift sideways to where Sam was now carefully trimming a nail with a small but razor sharp dagger. Which had been exquisitely carved from some glass like green crystal. "are all that defenseless."

"We are far from defenseless sir," Sam confirmed. "But my friend is forgetting her manors."

Darg noticed that his loins suddenly no longer felt crowded. He glanced at the Lady in the red cloak who was once again leaning on her staff. When his eyes refocused on the lady in green he noticed that she was no longer holding the wicked looking dagger. Though he never saw her put it away.

"It's unseemly for us to be so forward," Sam continued. "As to so shamelessly demonstrate our unladylike talents."

"But the truth is," the apprentice interjected. "We are stronger with them than we are without them... Now tell us who is Darg and why did he call us forth?"

"Very well," Darg replied. "I called you forth because I've seen the omens in the sky. As well as some villages burned to the ground. And some more that appear untouched. Except that they are now empty of people. If that is not enough to tell you just which danger is upon us, then perhaps I shall have to tell you just who I am."

Darg's shoulders drooped and for the first time since they arrived he looked like a tired old man. Then Darg suddenly squared his shoulders.

"But that is a tale that is long in the telling," he said in a firm voice. "And it is one that opens old wounds. So if I am to tell it I shall first kindle my cook fire. So that I might share with thee, a pleasant tea that will make the telling easier."

Darg gestured toward a small iron kettle. That was sitting on a few rocks in a pile of ashes next to a small bundle of wood. Which looked to be barely enough to boil the water.

"Save your wood," Jake said.

Then he used his repaired 'lighter' to send a jet of burning, superheated hydrogen at the rocks, quickly heating them till they were red hot.

"That should be hot enough to bring it to boil," he added when he extinguished the flame.

Darg looked very closely at Jake.

"Indeed," he said. "But I doubt that the old seeker, who was my friend, would have wasted so much power heating bare rocks when the wood was handy."

As he spoke he rummaged in his pack and produced a small bundle of dried leaves with a distinctive blueish tint, which he tossed into the nearly boiling water.

"Asulrod?" Jess inquired. "Where did you get that?"

"Yes, that sounds like the name the old seeker had for his favorite pipe-weed," Darg replied. "He planted it in a few secret gardens where it can still be found. I like it's calming effect better as a tea.

I must apologize however. For when I offered to share my tea with you, I neglected to mention we would also have to share my cup, as I only have the one."

As he said this he held up an unusual mug that had been fashioned from some kind of quartz like greenish gray crystal. The inside of the mug was polished smooth as glass but the outside had been only crudely carved into the shape of a mug.

"Not to worry, Darg," said Sam. "For cups we have. And I for one, would be delighted to share some tea with you. But we have also been remiss. My friend's names are Jess, Stephanie and of course..." With a little flourish she gestured towards Jake. "Our lord and master here is Jake. You may call me Samantha. Is the tea ready?"

The tea had a slightly pungent yet mellow flavor. They all sipped it from their cups as Darg explained.

"To tell this tale properly I must start at the beginning," Darg began. "And for me the beginning was when I was but a boy. I was an orphan who had been harshly treated by the midlander riverman named Fotgor who took me in and gave me the name Darg.

When I eventually ran away from him I became a nomadic woodsman. As such I traveled far and wide. Having as little to do with other people as I could.

One day I found and began exploring an old mountain trail. But when I made camp for the night there were strange omens in the sky. I found them very frightening. And I could find no meaning for them. I didn't get much sleep that night. But the next day the sun shined brightly. So I shrugged off the omens and continued to explore the trail.

Now to understand what happened next you should first know that I was then, as I still am, an excellent hunter and tracker. When I choose to go unnoticed in the woods, neither the fox nor the wolf see me. There were signs that someone was on the trail ahead of me. So I moved with great stealth as I tried to find out who it might be.

Before long I spied an old man acting strangely on the trail ahead. But when I crept closer to find out what he was doing. I suddenly found myself hanging from a tree by a rope snare. Then the old man was before me. He prodded me with his walking stick and proceeded to interrogate me. That was my first encounter with the old seeker. He kept me a prisoner for a day and a night. At first I was embarrassed and angry with him. But he treated me kindly and eventually released me. Yet idiot that I am, I sought to secretly follow him.

Only to wake up in the morning bound hand and foot. He scolded me for hours about my rudeness before he again released me. This time however, he asked me to walk with him to the other side of the mountains. To this day I don't know how he convinced me to accompany him. But accompany him I did. And so I began a new life among what turned out to be my father's people.

I met there, the love of my life, a fair maiden named Gwanon. We were wed and lived happily together until tragedy struck. It wasn't long after we were wed that we were cruelly betrayed. It never would have happened if the old seeker hadn't been away. But my Gwanon paid for her loyalty to me with her very life.

Darg appeared distraught from the memories his tale were invoking within him. He quivered slightly for a couple of seconds. Then he resumed his tale.

"When I had followed the old seeker from this cave into the land of my forebears. He showed me an ancient mountain castle named for the Twin Falls from which the Bluefin river is born. He told me it was once the seat of a great kingdom. And that even now it was a wondrous place. Somehow he talked me into becoming part of the community that resided there.

The old seeker was thought of as a well respected mage by the people there. He had but to show his face and they would welcome him like visiting royalty. Since I was with him, they welcomed me as well. Before long I found myself dressing in a manor resembling your attire Sir Jake."

"Just Jake," Jake interjected. "Thank you."

"It was there," Darg continued. "That I was smitten by my beloved Gwanon. To win her love, I truly embraced Twin Falls and made it my home. It took me two years to win her heart. And another two before we could be wed because her mother, Benatch was against our union.

During that time, the old seeker was often gone on some journey or other. He would be there for ten or twenty days, then be gone for fifty or even ninety. I didn't notice at first but he seamed worried about something. A little more so each time I saw him. He was gone the day Benatch told the priest, Argnoth, that Darg wasn't my birthname.

I hadn't been deceitful about it, I simply didn't know what my birthname was. Gwanon had long known of this ere I ever asked for her hand. But I curse the day we told Benatch of it. For she soon brought the matter to Argnoth's attention." Darg paused and took a large gulp of his tea. "A more sanctimonious man than that accursed priest has yet to draw breath.

He thought it improper that I hadn't publicly announced my shameful lack of a birthright before wedding Gwanon. It wasn't long before he convinced most of the good people of Twin Falls that I had worked a great deception on my wife. Then with Benatch's backing, he proceeded to declare our marriage invalid and Gwanon unfit. She was given over to her mothers custody. And since our marriage was deemed false and Gwanon was deemed unfit to make her own decisions. Benatch was able to have me imprisoned for stealing her daughters virginity.

There I remained until the old seeker returned to Twin Falls. He had found proof of my birthright as a descendant of a royal house. In fact it seems I had greater claim to it's throne than the current king. He said my mother was Eminof. Who was a princess of Twin Falls itself. She was the only child of it's former king.

Eminof had married a strong man named Lejor. Who was one of the Brethren of the sea. He had built his first ship with her dowry and then a prestigious trading company with his skill. I was but a young lad of only three summers named Otmer when my fathers ship was sunk in a terrible storm in the Ice sea.

The Old seeker said the location of the wreck indicated that he had almost made it to the safety of the South river's delta. He told me that the news of my mother's death broke her fathers spirit. And there being no word of a surviving grandson the old king soon succumbed to his illnesses.

Since he left no known surviving heir, the throne passed to a distant nephew. But somehow I had survived. Only to be found by Fotgor who didn't know of my regal heritage. He made me answer to the name Darg for so long I'd forgotten my birthname.

The old seeker had made a special trip to find the proof of what he had long suspected was my true lineage. In order that he might present me and my wife Gwanon with the wealth of my inheritance. But when he returned, it was already too late."

Darg was literally shaking with anger in spite of the calming effect of 2 cups of asulrod tea. Darg squeezed the handle of his stone cup so hard that it shattered into several long slivers. Their suddenly sharp edges cut into his palm as the cup itself shattered against the floor but Darg didn't seem to notice. His eyes took on the appearance of a madman but his voice betrayed no emotion as he continued his tale.

"There was in Twin Falls a man of means named Hodlire," Darg continued. "He was actually an honorable man who had long ago been smitten by Gwanon's beauty. He'd long had Benatch's blessing to court her daughter. And had often come calling on Gwanon. But he had always failed to impress her."

There were such tears running down Darg's face that they began to form a puddle on the stone floor. Yet his voice remained empty of emotion as he resumed his tale.

"While I was imprisoned," Darg said. "He offered to redeem Gwanon's honor by wedding her in spite of her lost virginity. Her mother accepted for her. There was nothing Gwanon could do to prevent Argnoth from declaring her the bride of Hodlire. But she had never accepted Argnoth's proclamation that our marriage wasn't valid and in her heart she felt bound to me. In the very moment that Argnoth declared her the wife of Hodlire, she screamed so loudly that I could even hear her in the castle dungeon far below Argnoth's chapel.

It was a heart wrenching wail that had chilled me to my very bones. I couldn't hear the words that followed it. But I was later told that she said that they had made of her a bigamist. Then she vowed that she would never commit adultery by allowing Hodlire to consummate their unholy union. And before anyone knew she even had a knife, she performed an ancient rite of ritual suicide. Spilling her life's blood upon the alter."

Darg's voice tightened to little more than a whisper. "I was also told that with her very last breath she spoke my name. As it turned out, that was just two days before the old seeker returned. He soon secured my release. But I scarcely knew it. For I had perceived my beloved's passing. And by then I was quite thoroughly out of my mind."

Darg's voice returned to the flat emotionless sound he had begun this tale with.

"Much had changed by the time the old seeker found a way to restore my mind," he said. "The people of Twin Falls were truly sorry for what they had done. As was their king who felt that he should have stopped Argnoth.

He even offered to abdicate the throne in my favor. But I didn't want it. I asked what became of Argnoth and was told that he had been shunned by the people of Twin Falls and had hung himself in shame. Gwanon's mother Benatch was another matter. She too had been shunned. But she had endured the shame of it better than Argnoth.

I spoke to the people of Twin Falls as Lord Otmer, son of Eminof, just once. I told them that I would be leaving, for my grief was such that I could no longer stay. Then I said that Gwanon had loved Twin Falls and it's people. That she wouldn't want them to spend their lives hanging their heads in shame for what was, for most of them, simply an honest mistake. I told them that if they would honor her memory, then they would have to find a way to bring back the laughter and general happiness that she had loved about the place.

Then I told them that I didn't believe Gwanon would have wanted her mother shunned. For no matter how misguided she may have been, Benatch had loved her daughter and had only sought what she believed was best for her. I told them that I knew for certain that Gwanon had loved her mother. That she would have even asked me to forgive her. Then I said that if I lived long enough, I might someday even be able to do so. In the meantime however I asked them to stop shunning her, so that the healing of Twin Falls could begin.

However my own grief was such that I could no longer stay there. That very night I left by the old seeker's secret path through the mountain. The old seeker caught up to me the next day. Somehow he knew I intended to spend the rest of my life as a nomadic hunter and that it was pointless to try to change my mind. But he wanted me to accept that crystal disk as a gift.

At first I refused. It was something of his that I had coveted ever since he first showed me how it could be used to clearly see things from far away. But I found I really didn't want it anymore. Nor in fact did I want anyone's company.

Not even his and I said so. I said I knew he was a true friend but that I couldn't look at him or any one else I knew, without reliving the moment I'd lost Gwanon forever.

That's when he asked me if I had noticed that he had been worried about something in recent years. And he explained that there was a terrible danger that he feared might one day befall my world. He wasn't even certain that he was strong enough to stop it, if it did come. But that he certainly couldn't do so, if he didn't even know about it. He said that he had to go away and would no longer be here to watch for the signs.

He told me that the real reason he wanted me to take the crystal was that with it I could send for his help. If ever I saw the omens of the evil presence.

I asked him what omens those were and he reminded me about the omens I'd seen in the sky just before we first met. Though I had never even told him that I'd seen them. Yet he knew exactly what I'd seen.

He said that if I ever saw anything like them again I was to send for him with the crystal. Then he showed me where to put the crystal to send the signal. And told me that I should be prepared for a long wait before I should expect him to answer.

Well I waited but instead of the seeker all I got was you four."

Suddenly Darg looked at the blood dripping from his hand and seemed to be at a loss as to what had happened to it.

After a moment of silence Jake prompted him.

"Would you describe these omens more precisely for us Darg?" he asked. "What did you see?"

While Darg described the omens, Sam began applying some basic first aid to Darg's hand. While Sam gently tended to that, his three companions stood near the cave mouth looking at the light that shined through the waterfall.

"Tell me if it doesn't sound odd to you," Jake's nano-pods spoke in the left ears of Jess, Sam and Stephanie. "That Steve would worry quite that much, about the possibility that some spaceship might someday visit this planet."

Jess shook his head and spoke in a voice so faint, that it would also take the enhanced hearing of his friends, to hear it.

"The part that doesn't add up to me," he said. "Is that it has been so long since Steve was last here."

"One hundred and twenty one earth years to be precise," Stephanie asserted in an equally quite voice. "Since Steve stopped coming here."

"Yes," Jess resumed. "And this joker doesn't look much over 50 to me. Our records indicate that the average lifespan of a man here is 80 local years, which is about 73 Earth years"

"You're right of course," Darg loudly interjected. "It makes no sense that I should live to be a man of one hundred and eighty three years of age. Nor that my hearing should be so sharp. I have long thought that the old mage, 'Did you say his name was Steve?', must have enchanted me."

"Tell me Darg," Jake spoke aloud. "Did you also hear what I asked my friends?"

"If you're referring to whatever it was that they appeared to be listening to," Darg replied. "Just before Jess reminded me how long I've been wandering in the wilderness, then no 'that' I couldn't hear."

"One last thing Darg," Jake said. "May I examine your crystal disk?"

Darg snorted.

"I don't know why I should let you do so," he said. "But I can't see the harm in it." As he finished speaking Darg removed the pouch from around his neck and held it out towards Jake.

"Mind you," he added. As he pulled it slightly back, just short of Jake's outstretched hand. "I expect you to hand it back to me."

"For what it's worth," Jake said with a smile. "You have my word that I will do so."

Darg again extended his hand until the pouch was in Jake's grasp. Jake carefully opened the pouch and let it settle in the palm of his hand that he might clearly see the disk.

He was careful not to let the disk itself touch his skin. He passed his other hand over it and the crystal began to glow with a soft blue light, that quickly grew much brighter, as the color began to take on a slightly purple hue. Jake slowly lifted his hand away from the crystal disk and the glow quickly faded.

"It is as I suspected." Jake said. As he carefully rewrapped the disk in Darg's pouch and handed it back to him.

"Darg's disk is undoubtedly one that Steve carried for many years," Jake began. "And yes Darg, amongst us he did go by the name of Steve. But Steve is no more his true name than that word you called him, seeker, would be. I'm not sure anyone alive knows what his name was before he took on the title of Questor. Which comes as close to a real name as he still answers to. It must have amused him to be referred to as a seeker here on your world.

You were wise to take such good care of the crystal disk he gave you. It is very special. It was once much like the ones we carry. Though it's design appears much older. In fact it's just possible it was the very first such one that Steve ever carried. Which would make it truly ancient.

You see the old mage, as you called him, was already a very old man long before men first walked upon your world. Or for that mater, before they did so on my world. And into this disk he poured a small measure of his agelessness.

You were not far wrong in guessing that he had enchanted you. But in fact the enchantment, if it can so be called, is in the disk that he gave you. It also lends the ring of truth to your tale. To be sure I knew that you believed what you told us. But the fact that he gave you that disk is enough to convince me. That he did indeed expect something terrible to someday befall this world."

Stephanie had been silent ever since she had confirmed just how long it had been since Steve had come to LosLand. Now she spoke up.

"Your tale also rings true for me," she said. "I was then as young, as I still do look, the last time he returned from this place. There was in him a deep sadness, that fairly ripped the hearts out of all of us who loved him. But he wouldn't tell us what was wrong.

Only that he had made a great mistake, that had cost someone dear to him such a price, that he simply could not bear to talk about it."

"Yes I remember that," Jess said. "I never knew it had anything to do with LosLand. But I remember the sadness that befell him some 50 galactic standard years ago.

That would make it just about a hundred and twenty earth years or so. Since I made the mistake of asking him what was wrong.

He never did answer. It was in fact the only time I ever saw him cry."

"Enough!" yelled Darg. Then he pulled his hand out of Samantha's tender clutches. Where she had so quietly resumed tending to his wounds, that he had almost not even noticed it.

"I'm sure you all mean well," Darg added in a milder voice. "But it doesn't ease my pain any to know how deeply the old mage shared it. And there is no point in you're getting so tender and sweet towards me Samantha. You're a beautiful woman. But I will never again find peace in the arms of any woman, save sometimes, when my Gwanon comes to me in my dreams."

Samantha blushed. Then she, the first among them to find her voice, apologized.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable Darg," she began. "I confess that my heart feels your pain and I would ease it if I could. For I know something of the pain of a lost love. But I would not offer you more than the chaste kindness of friendship. For I have a secret of my own. And I simply can't tell you why it could never be more than that for me either.

But can I not be your friend?"

Darg looked into Samantha's eyes and softly sighed.

"Then it is my turn to be sorry dear lady," he began. "For I can see it in your eyes, that you are speaking the truth of it. And indeed I also see there a great pain that mirrors my own. That is perhaps part of why it frightens me. That you might make the mistake of falling in love with me. For well I know what the pain of loss can do. Though I live now only for the memory of my beloved wife. For me there can never be another. Not even one who looks so much like her that you could have been her sister. But this too, is not your fault. So I will but warn you that it really can never be more than that.

But it might ease my pain to spend a little time in your kind hearted company. So if you will try to think of me as a long lost brother. I will try to think of you as the sister I never had."

"Good!" Jake interrupted them. "I don't know how or why Samantha develops such close bonds so quickly. But Jess and I at least, must go forth and investigate the things you saw. And Stephanie is the most experienced among us in the kind of stealth that we shall need.

But you've convinced me that the danger is very real. So real that we must needs adhere to a strict protocol. Which requires that we leave at least one of us behind. To go for help and reinforcements should we fail to return safely. So it would be a comfort to me to know that someone was here to keep Samantha company..."

Sam glared at him.

"That's not fair Jake," he said. "You don't know how much I worry about you. When you go off and leave me behind."

"No Sam, I do know," Jake gently replied. "I've known for a while now how you feel about me. But you know how I feel about Cindy. And that what you feel for me, can never be. I know that won't change your feelings any. But believe me I'm as painfully aware of them as you are."

"And if any of us didn't know," Jess spoke up. "How you felt about Jake here, before you nearly scratched Stephanie's eyes out. For the unkind way she teased him this morning. Well, lets just say, it opened my eyes girl."

Darg looked from one to the other of these strange people who had come in answer to his call.

"I think there is far more to this than any of you are saying," he said. "But I'm beginning to think I don't want to know... Go! I'll keep Samantha safe for you. I just hope you have half the power between you that my old friend would have had. Because you are headed into the very mouth of the dragon."

In answer, Jake silently passed his hands over the shards of Darg's broken cup. When he did so his hands began to glow as his nanites redirected power from the new and improved microfusion power plant, within his rebuilt lighter. They used the energy and spent some of themselves, to rearrange the molecules of the fragments of the cup. Which in what seemed magic to Darg, reformed into an unbroken cup. One that resembled the old stone-like cup. Except that there were now thin bands of glass-like translucent amber woven into the slate gray of the outer surface of the cup. These amber bands were also swirled through the green crystal of the inner cup surface.

Jake held the cup out to Darg.

"You'll find the cup is now much harder to break," Jake said. "It will also keep hot tea hot and cold water cold, far longer than before. But the real magic, if such it can be called, is that should you ever fill it with something poisonous. These amber bands will warn you by turning blood red." Then with a wink, he added, "Yes Darg I wield as great a power as the old man does. We should be alright."

"If you connect your crystal disk," Jake's voice spoke inside Sam's ear. "To the virtual reality circuit, Sandra built into that nano-tool control panel, that she gave you. Then you'll be able to monitor our progress. It'll be almost like you were with us Sam.

Please don't worry. I'll be careful, I promise."

Chapter 32 Hysteria

"How are you feeling Cindy?" Sandra asked her friend from the doorway. As she walked into the bedroom of Jake's rooftop cabin at Hillside.

"Cindy is quite recovered Sandra," a deep masculine voice answered.

Now that she was actually inside the room Sandra could see Al Eastman's massive black frame on his back on the bed. While Cindy was sitting up with her legs straddling his hips.

There was certainly no mistaking what Cindy was up to. If she had ever been bashful about such things, she was definitely over it. Besides, Sandra knew for a fact that Al 'liked' having an audience.

"Well I guess you are doing better at that Cindy," Sandra said. "Perhaps I should come back later."

As Sandra started to turn to leave, Cindy spoke up with a voice laced with the stress of a pending orgasm.

"No, don't leave Sandra," Cindy said. "I need to talk to you this morning. Besides we're almost done..."

Even as she spoke, Cindy began breathing erratically. Al's breathing was somewhat more controlled. Though his breath rate was slowly speeding up. This continued for another couple of minutes.

"Thank you for waiting Sandra," Cindy said as she climbed up off of Al. "But you have no idea how much I needed that."

"Oh I think I've a pretty good idea," Sandra retorted. Then as Al began to sit up she added in a sharp commanding voice, "Stop! Stay! Lay down!" Then she continued in a softer voice. "You had better be up for another round Al... Cause now 'I' need it."

As she said that Sandra stepped out of her one piece dress and quickly straddled Al's face. Then she looked at Cindy, who was watching her with an amused expression.

"Don't laugh Cindy, this is all your fault," Sandra said. "I wasn't even horny when I got here. But do tell me what you wanted to talk to me about."

"I could tell you Sandra," Cindy replied. "But would you be listening?"

"Well that depends on how long it takes you to spit it out Cindy," Sandra asserted. "I mean I know Al's good at this but even his skills won't shut down my cognitive ability for at least the next five minutes."

"OK, you asked for it," Cindy began. "But don't blame me if it throws your timing off. I wanted to tell you that the implant worked. Of course you know that because if it hadn't you'd still be in that, oh what did you call that thing Al?"

Abruptly Al stopped what he was doing long enough to say, "I said it was a stasis sphere Cindy." Then he resumed ministering to Sandra's needs.

"Yes that was it," Cindy agreed. "So you would still be in that stasis sphere... Thank you Al."

Once again Al stopped what he was doing to say, "Anytime Cindy." Then he got back down to business.

"Stop that!" Sandra said sharply. Then quickly continued. "No not you Al, you just keep right on doing that. But you Cindy, Stop teasing me by pulling Al into the conversation. 'He' is busy!"

Cindy chuckled.

"OK, I'll play nice," she claimed. "But like I said, the implant did it's job. It was, however, a very near thing. If your lab wasn't safe from these bastards. How long before they try it here?"

Al practically threw Sandra off of him as he jumped up.

"They better not try it while I'm around!" he said. "Or so help me between Adam and I, we will tear them limb from limb!" As he said this he stepped up to the edge of the bed and pulled Sandra's body over to him until she suddenly found herself impaled as he informed her. "You, on the other hand are decidedly ready."

Then he began thrusting with a vigorous rhythm. Cindy decided that if she wanted Sandra to hear what she had to say she better get to the point more quickly.

"So anyway," Cindy resumed explaining. "I was thinking that I'm gonna need a bigger, badder set of nano-toys."

"Good, I was hoping you'd feel that way," Sandra's voice was a bit ragged as she replied. Because I've been working on a set of combat grade toys that are guaranteed to piss off those assholes in the guild council." Sandra paused long enough to take a couple of breaths. "The next time a bunch of creeps try something, they're gonna get a big surprise... Cause your gonna be loaded for bear! Now please shut up for a few minutes. Then we can go downstairs to one of Steve's spare labs where I've been working on them."

A few minutes later Cindy and Sandra were on their way downstairs. Sandra took the opportunity to ask Cindy if she had noticed how big a chunk she had taken out of the Micronic Enterprises R & D building when she unleashed that corrosive blast of nanomorphic material against their attacker.

"Sure did," Cindy replied. "Al told me that we were very fortunate that there weren't any Micronic's personnel in the way at the time. He also said that it was a good thing that the nano-construction tools you developed would be able to sort of grow a building patch, in situ. Otherwise, once the local building inspector became aware that the damage was so extensive, he would have condemned the entire building. So I'm thinking we need to work on better targeting systems before I accidentally kill somebody."

"You mean somebody besides that asshole in the combat armor right Cindy?" Sandra asked. "Because I'm pretty sure you did kill him."

"There wasn't anything accidental about his death Sandra," Cindy affirmed. Him I meant to kill. But I was very lucky that none of our people became what they call 'collateral damage' in those action movies Jake used to make me watch."

"Your right about it being a matter of luck Cindy," Sandra replied. "So your also right that we will be working on better targeting systems when I fine tune the upgrades I'm about to give you."

***

They had spent nearly an hour discussing the details of the enhancements Sandra had in mind. Cindy wanted Sandra to crank up the strength components of her autoboost system a lot further than Sandra thought was safe. Cindy however thought of a way to make it work. Which Sandra admitted was possible. She could do what Cindy wanted her to. She wasn't quite comfortable with the idea however.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Sandra asked one last time before she activated the auto-doc.

"Yes, we've only been over this about six times now Sandra," Cindy replied from the operating table. "I know that this is very experimental and you can't guarantee the results. But weaving that reinforcement meshwork around my bone structure is the only way you can be sure that I won't break my own bones. Due to the stresses that'll result from cranking up the strength enhancement components of my autoboost system. Like I've asked you to do. Just push the damn button Sandra."

When Cindy woke up she took a close look at her naked body in the mirror. She was still looking when Sandra walked in.

"I have to admit that auto-doc of Steve's is a damn good surgeon," Cindy said. "I can't see a single trace of the surgery."

"Yes," Sandra replied. "Steve did a wonderful job on that piece of equipment. And I know it already feels like you're all healed up. But I want you to take it easy for the rest of the day. I mean it's only been a couple of hours since that auto-doc made some radical changes to your skeletal structure."

"Oh all right," Cindy agreed. "I suppose I could talk Al into doing all the work."

"Absolutely not!" Sandra snapped. "At least not until I've run full diagnostic calibration tests on your implant's control systems. I mean you wouldn't want an orgasm to accidentally trigger an unplanned deployment of your auto-boost system, would you? Combine that with your reinforced bone structure and you could accidentally crush the poor hunk to death."

"Spoilsport," Cindy retorted. "But you're right. I do want to be sure that nothing like that ever happens..." She would have said more but she was interrupted by an 'intruder alert' alarm signal.

"That's the location code for the primary portal chamber!" Sandra said.

Cindy didn't waste the time to get dressed as she grabbed her new weapons bag and left the lab at a dead run. She wasn't yet used to the new intensity of her auto-boost system. She soon found that she was running a little too fast. When it became time to stop at the elevator she had to use her arms to keep from slamming into the door face first.

"Ouch!" she exclaimed with surprise.

Though as she looked at the dent in the stainless steel door Cindy decided that it shouldn't surprise her that it had hurt. Her skeletal structure may have been reinforced but it was still her own flesh wrapped around it. Then the elevator door slid open with a soft creaking sound that she had never heard it make before.

***

Darg wasn't sure what to do about the suddenly hysterical woman that he had been quietly talking with. Samantha had proved to be a good conversationalist. Even though she had seemed somewhat distracted, clutching her crystal disk firmly every few minutes. He had decided that he liked her company. Even if he couldn't shake the notion that she had told him far less of herself than he had spoken of himself. This had gone on like this for hours.

Darg had used his supply of firewood to cook a small stew from the dried meat in his pack. Then before the fire died out he had quickly made another pot of asulrod tea.

The light streaming into the cave through the waterfall had begun to fade. When suddenly Samantha gasped and gripped her disk so tightly that he wondered what was wrong. He never got a chance to ask however, as she suddenly let out a scream of shear horror.

Then the poor girl had jumped to her feet and started to run down the dark tunnel. He had quickly followed but scarcely had he caught up with her than she stopped in her tracks. She muttered something about it not being fair.

Then she turned around and began to shuffle slowly back towards the falls. She moved like she was filled with dread. Then she placed her crystal disk into the depression on the pedestal. It didn't take nearly so long for her disk to start glowing as it had for his own but it wasn't a pale blue glow. In the darkening gloom of the cave Samantha's disk shined with a deep red hue.

Darg had spent the next hour listening to Samantha alternate between incoherent ravings about it not being right or somehow not fair, to expect something of her. Then there would be a pause punctuated only by the sobs of her incessant weeping. Then suddenly she would be screaming, in a most unladylike fashion, at the glowing red disk to hurry up and open the door.

Darg had tried to ask her what was wrong but she hadn't seemed able to speak coherently. Nonetheless, by the time the magic door opened he had gathered that she believed that something had gone horribly wrong with Jake's reconnaissance mission. While he didn't quite understand by what magic she knew it, there was no doubt that to her it was a well established fact.

When the 'door' finally opened Samantha was shaking so hard that she could hardly stand. Darg had seen condemned prisoners move towards the gallows with less obvious dread. Than he could see in Samantha as she crept closer to the doorway. As to himself, there was little in life that Darg still feared. Not even death itself had any fear for him anymore. Not since the day that Gwanon had passed before him. Though this magic door was one of the few things that still made him uncomfortably nervous. Still, he couldn't bear to watch the way Samantha was dragging herself towards the glowing circle. So he muttered a curse under his breath and stepped forward. He put his arm around her shoulders and walked with her through the glowing doorway.

No sooner had they arrived inside the strange chamber on the other side of the doorway than the magic door closed behind them. Then suddenly the strange chamber was full of flashing lights and strange chiming sounds. A strange voice from nowhere began speaking in a language Darg had never heard before. Yet somehow he seemed to understand it's meaning.

"Intruder alert! Intruder alert!" the mechanical voice of Hillside's house computer resounded through the portal chamber. "Identify and authenticate the reason for your intrusion. Identify immediately."

Sam stepped up to the identi-screen and placed his hand on the scanner.

"A bio-morphic cloaking device has been detected," the computer said. "Protocol requires that you decloak prior to authentication."

Sam shot a quick look at his companion and hesitated. Darg didn't know that he was really a man and since he had been sitting on his woolen cloak, rather than wearing it when the portal opened. The only garment he was wearing now was far too revealing to leave any doubt about it in Darg's mind. The moment he decloaked Sam would lose Darg's friendship.

At that moment the elevator door opened and a very agitated, heavily armed and quite naked Cindy stepped into the room. Darg's jaw literally fell open when he noticed how exactly this naked woman looked like Samantha.

"Who?" Cindy started to ask.

"A bio-morphic cloaking device has been detected," the house computer repeated. "Protocol requires that you decloak prior to authentication."

"Yes, do decloak," Cindy commanded. As she pointed a compact but lethal looking plasma-stream weapon at her doppelganger.

"Very well," Sam said. "But I need to say I'm sorry Darg, I..." Sam's voice faded away without explaining what he was sorry for.

Then there was a momentary distortion of Sam's image.

"Identity confirmed," the house computer acknowledged.

Cindy's jaw fell open. Darg just sagged and fell to his knees. With a look of sheer horror on his face.

Meanwhile, Sandra stepped off the elevator. There were tears in Sam's eyes as he tried to explain.

"There's no time for this." he said. "It's terrible. They've got Jake! And Jess..." His voice was more like a whimper as he added, "Stephanie's dead. We gotta tell Steve that Jake's in trouble." Then he held out his recall disk.

"Stephanie," Sam choked, then continued. "Steph... St.. She gave her life to send..."

Cindy took the disk and Sam collapsed against the wall, giving in to his tears. Darg, who had regained his feet, looked at Sam with a mixture of disgust and pity. Then he started to explain to the only woman with enough sense to be wearing clothes.

"Tell this Steve, as you call him," he said. "That I've seen the omens he foretold. The dragons have descended upon my people."

"I know Darg," Cindy interrupted him. "This crystal disk has told me your story. And much more." Then turning to Sandra, Cindy held out the disk she had just interfaced with.

"There isn't time to wait till Steve is in communications range," she insisted. "I've got to do something about this. And I've got to do it now! I'm going to need full combat armor Sandra. And perhaps a dozen decoy drones."

"You can't be serious Cindy," Sandra retorted. "You're not ready! And even if you were what chance would you have against an enemy that Jake couldn't handle."

"Jake!" Cindy said fiercely. "Was taken by surprise. I won't be. Besides you're about to give me some of the nastiest weapons your twisted mind has ever conceived of."

"But..." Sandra started to say.

"No buts!" Cindy said. "There isn't time! I'm less than two hours away from launching an attack. You're going to need every minute of that to gear me up enough to pull this off. Because it really doesn't matter if I have a chance or not. Jake needs help. I'm going. And God help anyone who gets in my way!"

Chapter 33 Monsters

"This is insane!" Sandra exclaimed again.

She had been trying to talk sense into Cindy's head. Ever since she found out just exactly what it was that Cindy intended to do. They were standing by the portal control console in the launch bay. The large door to the portal launch chamber was open. As was the outer door of the stern airlock of the stealth shuttle. Which had already been placed in the launch cradle.

The standby cradle was holding a short range attack fighter at an odd angle to the floor. While both Al and his brother Adam were busy making modifications to several critical control systems.

"Besides that," Sandra added when it became obvious that Cindy was ignoring her. "Do you have any idea how much energy this insane plan of yours is going to cost us?"

Cindy was busy making some fine adjustments to the fighter's autopilot program's advanced autonomous combat mode which she had just upgraded. She had heard every word of Sandra's arguments but she wasn't about to admit that she thought Sandra was right. Her plan was dangerous and would most likely deplete more than 90% of Hillside's massive energy reserves. So she had nothing to say to her friend.

Then Sandra tried another tact.

"You know I should stop you from doing this," she said.

Cindy just looked at her with an expression that should have been enough to curdle milk. Sandra decided it was time to make her move.

"Alright Cindy," she pleaded. "I won't stop you from trying this fool hardy plan of yours. Providing I come along to keep you out of trouble."

Cindy sighed.

"You can't go Sandra," she explained. "If I fail, Steve will need your help for whatever he decides to do about it. You know this."

"That's just it," Sandra admitted. "I don't want to be the one to tell Steve about all of this..." Then she sighed and squared her shoulders. "I'd ask you to promise to at least be careful. But the only way you could really do that, is not to go. And I know you have to."

"The preliminary portal link is established," the mechanical voice of the house computer said.

Sandra suddenly leaned forward and kissed Cindy on the cheek.

"I guess it's time," she said. "Go save the big jerk."

"That's the plan," Cindy said.

Then she turned on her heels and sprinted for the airlock door of the stealth shuttle. Adam, who had been much closer got there first and Al was only two steps behind Cindy as she stepped inside. Cindy was grateful for their help. Aside from Jess, Adam was the best spacecraft technician Hillside had. Without his help the modifications to the small attack ship behind them wouldn't have been possible. There had been no hesitation about their going with her on this virtual suicide mission either. Both of them had insisted. Al had explained that he was the best stealthcraft pilot currently on the planet. Adam had insisted that her mission was too important to take any chances. He'd said that the surest way to have a serious malfunction was to leave the mechanic behind. For her part, Cindy only hoped she wasn't going to get them both killed.

The big door to the portal launch chamber closed at the same time as the outer airlock door. The stealthcraft wasn't roomy. There were only a half dozen acceleration couches including the pilots seat. The one and only cabin area was so full of advanced stealth system components that there was little room to move about. As soon as the inner airlock door opened Al headed for the pilots seat. Adam quickly sat at the primary stealth control console. Which left the copilots seat for Cindy.

"Permission to initialize the sequence Ma'am?" Al asked as soon as she was seated.

Cindy noted that Al's mock British accent sounded comical. She decided that it was his flippant way of acknowledging that while he was the pilot, she was in command.

"Do it." was all she said.

Though the forward view screen she could see the portal's meshwork begin to glow. Al began his launch run even before the portal finished opening. By the time the stealth shuttle reached the portal aperture Adam had the stealth system fully engaged.

***

No one detected their arrival to a low orbit around LosLand. Not even the Tactical officer who was diligently monitoring it's ship's sensor systems. It's systems also failed to detect it when the stealth craft followed a reaper shuttle through the cargo bay doors. The failure to detect these things was not in any way it's fault but it would soon pay for them with it's life.

All three of them were wearing stealth equipped combat armor when they left the stealthcraft. Which they had parked on the edge of the the docking pad where the cargo craft they had followed was unloading it's prisoners. They used no transmitted signal as they crept into the ventilation system. Which should lead to where Stephanie's final transmission had said they would find the forcefield holding Jake prisoner.

Cindy was amazed that they had made it so far without being detected. She had begun to think that her plan was actually going to work when the docking clamps released the empty reaper shuttle. So that it could go get more food beasts. When it began to move it collided with the parked steathship. Which exploded, severely damaging the larger reaper ship and the docking pad itself.

The tactical officer was immediately aware of the collision. It also knew it's life was forfeit. It had barely enough time to wonder how long it would take it's commander to react. When One's full body weight drove it to the floor. One was so much bigger that the tactical officer never had a chance as it was expertly eaten alive. It felt each of it's 6 limbs being partially severed. It had to admire One's skill in making sure that it didn't sever any of the pain bearing nerves in the process.

One flipped it's helpless prey onto it's back. Exposing the vulnerable fleshy area around it's universal orifice. One carefully shredded each piece of flesh in such a way as to maximize the amount of pain it's victim felt. Then One carefully slipped each morsel into it's own universal orifice. All the while, One carefully transmitted the sensations from the taste buds on the base of it's chewing claws, into the former officers brain. This maximized the sensation of fear and pain it could sense in it's victim. This was one meal it was going to enjoy.

Moments after the stealthcraft was destroyed, several of the six legged monstrosities began searching their ship for intruders. Only the younger ones were still small enough to enter the ventilation system. Nonetheless they were still more than a match for a human, even one wearing combat armor. Not only were their shells at least as tough as the high tech armor but their muscles could generate more force than the armor's servomotors. Which supplemented the relatively feeble capabilities of the human inside it.

Aside from that, the young of these creatures had had to evolve a defense against their much bigger and stronger elders. Their shells outer surface had developed a naturally adaptive camouflage which, combined with their ability to move quietly, served to nullify most of the advantages. That the team's stealth systems should have given them. Especially in the dim shadow filled environment within the air ducts.

Adam carefully scanned the next section of ductwork. He would have felt much more comfortable if they could afford to use a more aggressive active scanning technique. Unfortunately no mater how carefully they masked the signal, there was too great a risk that it would be detected. So he spent a little extra time examining the passive scan results. He could detect no unexplained radiant energy. There was no vibration and the visual display looked like an empty duct. Still he hesitated for another second before he gave Cindy the thumbs up.

She quietly passed Al, who now brought up the rear, then she passed Adam as she advanced around the corner towards the next vantage point. She had no warning of the dangerous beast waiting in the shadows.

It almost hadn't detected the approaching intruders. They moved nearly as quietly as it did. It had barely had time to step into a shadow and alter it's shells color pattern to blend in when it heard one of them arrive at the next bend in the pipe. The intruder stopped moving at the corner. It was unable to see any trace of the intruder but it knew something was there. After a short time it heard the intruder move slightly. Then it heard another intruder begin to move.

The second intruder was even quieter than the first. If it hadn't already been listening so closely the shelled monstrosity wouldn't have heard this intruder at all. It was quite certain that the second intruder had passed the first. It didn't understand why it couldn't see any trace of the intruder but it heard something approaching. In the narrow confines of the tunnel it only had to wait until it was sure the intruder was too close for the capture net to miss.

Cindy moved with all the stealth of a Sister of Rebirth. Which stealth technique allowed her to move quicker and with less noise than either of her companions. She listened as she moved, both to her surroundings and to what little noise she couldn't avoid making. The loudest thing she could hear was the soft sound of her armor's servo-motors. Though since they were the quietest motors that Hillside's technology could produce, even that noise was hard to hear. Cindy also kept a wary eye on the sensor display within her helmet. There were an assortment of pipes and cables running throughout the ventilation system. Just ahead, she could see one of the boxlike assemblies that marked where several of the cables came together.

As she got closer her passive scanners were able to provide more details. Which supplemented the dim view provided by the passive stealth mode of her night vision system. Cindy's scanners began to report a slightly larger area of shadow, just beyond the cable junction, than her night vision system indicated. She realized something was wrong and activated her nano-boost system but it was already too late.

Since Cindy was wearing combat armor and the effects of the elixir Kernislarn had given her were still accelerating the neuro-response time of her brains synapses. The only real advantage of her boosted mode was the speed with which she could signal the armor's control systems. There was a slight indistinct movement and she instantly let loose with an intense stunner blast. Which would have rendered a Buffalo instantly unconscious.

It had little effect on her target however. It activated the capture gun it had just pointed at her. A gelatinous blob the size of a tennis ball splattered against Cindy's armor. It hit with sufficient force to knock her back against the bend in the ductwork, twenty feet behind where she had stood. It spread out into a network of extremely strong adhesive strands that fastened her to the ductwork, like a fly in a spiders web.

Adam's sensors picked up the energy of Cindy's stunner blast. Thanks to the residual energy it left in the creatures shell he could now see where the hellish beast was. He also saw that it was now moving towards his position with alarming speed. Since Cindy's heavy stun hadn't been effective he set his weapon system to maximum and targeted the creature with an energy beam intense enough to have instantly fried every single cell in an elephant. It didn't have much more effect on the nightmare bearing down on him than Cindy's stunner had. The six legged monster screamed with pain and anger. As it smashed into Adam's armor with enough force to knock him unconscious.

The creature hadn't seemed aware of Al's presence until he moved to unshoulder his heavy weapon. Each member of the team had selected an antitank weapon of some kind to supplement the armor's built in weapon systems. Al had selected a high powered coil gun. Each of it's magazines held 50 small explosive pellets and a power cell with enough juice to magnetically accelerate them to hypersonic velocities.

The pellets penetrated the monsters armor and exploded deep within it's body. Al's first shot was probably fatal but these creatures wouldn't stop fighting until they were completely dead. It took another five shots to stop it's advance. Al quickly checked his brother's medical data. Fortunately it appeared that he would recover. Next Al approached Cindy but she quickly spoke into her tight beam secure com-link.

"Stay back!" her voice commanded. "Do not touch this stuff. I've got some of Sandra's best nano-toys working on cutting me free. But it's slow going."

"We knew these buggers were tough," Al said quietly after his brother regained consciousness. "But not this tough. I suggest we don't waste any more time with the built in weapon systems. I just wish I had more than a half dozen spare magazines for my coil gun. At five or six pellets apiece to take down one of those things 344 shots won't last very long."

"It's my fault that we underestimated their physical strength," Cindy stated. "I've replayed my sisters transmission. It included a fairly accurate assessment of their strength. Which as a fellow Sister of Rebirth I should have interpreted more accurately. But I allowed my grief to blind me to it. It hurt to much to listen to her last report properly. Once I extracted what technical data she transmitted on their weapon systems, I stopped listening. That mistake nearly cost us dearly. So I'm now prepared to step down as mission commander, if one of you will accept the job."

"Nonsense!" Adam exclaimed. "If you hadn't insisted, we wouldn't have burdened ourselves with our supplemental heavy weapon systems. And where would we be if Al wasn't packing that coil gun?"

Al waited a second for his brothers outburst to sink in. Before he commented with a wry grin.

"I second Adam's opinion," he said. "I'm afraid you can't duck your command responsibilities that easily Cindy."

"Very well boys," she conceded. "I don't know if I should thank you for the vote of confidence or not. But if I'm still in charge then it's time I acted like it.

Adam, I agree with Al's assessment. It's time you prepped that particle beam system you're lugging around. Also, I analyzed the way that creature fought. It was already well hidden when we got here so it knew we were coming. Yet it waited until I was very close to deploy that adhesive weapon it used on me.

It didn't seem to know Al was even there until he moved. So I don't think it could see us. I think it heard us. But there isn't much we can do to move more quietly than we have. Unless of course we turn off our servomotors. But dragging these suits around would exhaust us before we got very far. So we're going to have to change our point man tactics. Now you two both know that Sandra cooked up some special nano-toys for me. But I don't think you know how special.

I've got an integrated nano-boost system that can deliver micro-doses of customized nanites on command. That means I can boost my strength enough to compensate for briefly turning my servos off." Cindy waited for a moment for that to sink in. Then she explained her plan. "Whenever we approach a corner or junction I want the two of you to alternate on the pivot position. I'll, take a micro-boost as I deactivate my servos and advance around the point with extreme stealth. Then when I'm in position, the pivot man is to send a single active scanner pulse on the lowest power setting and jump back! Meanwhile I want the other one of you ready to spring forward shooting if and only if, I've engaged one of them buggers."

Cindy silently cursed Sandra for actually embedding a recording of that banal music from her bank into the combat mode of her micro-boost control system. It was a very effective deterrent against the temptation to overuse the nano-boost system. Which wouldn't be nearly so annoying if she only had to put up with it while the combat boost system was in active use but Sandra had encoded it to play inside her head slightly longer than it took for the effects of the boost to fade away. So far they had used the new tactic three times and each time there hadn't been anything there.

Each micro-boost used up about 30 seconds worth of her 90 minute usage limit. It felt like a waste. Just ahead there was a junction in the ductwork. She looked carefully past the point where the other duct branched off to the right. Then when Al had reached the pivot point she carefully advanced. When she was in position Al released a scanner pulse and jumped back.

He was almost fast enough. The gelatinous blob grazed his shoulder as he jumped back. His arm wound up glued to the floor. Yet even as the creature fired it's capture weapon Cindy fired a drill dart. The dart corkscrewed it's way through the creatures shell and exploded with sufficient force to kill it outright but even as it fell dead she saw three more of it's kind rush into the scene. One from each way. Adam had just launched himself forward with the particle beam emitter in his hand primed to generate a maximum power beam. He detected the creature approaching from the side passage, behind the one Cindy had just killed, and activated the beam. The power pack on his back delivered a massive charge to the emitter in his hand. Which sent a stream of particles into the creatures body. It took a full second for the beam to kill the beast. It only had time to fire it's weapon once. The force field guided blast of electrical energy just missed Cindy.

Unfortunately, when he fired his weapon Adam had presented a clear image of his exact position to the other two attackers. Meanwhile Cindy had called up a maxi-burst from her micro-boost system. As she reloaded and fired a drill dart at the creature in front of them. Her reflexes were so accelerated that she was able to duck the energy blast that the creature coming up behind them had fired at her. At the same time, just before her second drill dart exploded, Cindy's target fired an electrical blast that struck Adam's armor a glancing blow. Most of it's energy had dissipated in the ductwork wall beside him. However the small percentage of the blast that did hit him was enough to fry some of his armor's critical circuitry.

Cindy suddenly realized that she had ignored the one approaching from behind them, just a little bit too long. As she desperately dove to one side while loading another dart Cindy heard Al's coilgun fire. The last creature had made the mistake of thinking that Al was helpless but while he was stuck to the floor, he was still able to point his weapon at a limited field of targets. Even as the beast aimed it's weapon at Cindy it blundered into Al's field of fire. Al fired a 10 pellet burst into it's body.

Cindy used her control interface to start some nanites on the task of freeing Al from the adhesive. Then she turned her attention to his brother. Adam wasn't injured but his armor's defense shield, stealth and communication systems were down. A quick examination of the primary control crystal told her that they had no way to repair the damage.

"Can you fix that?", Adam asked. Though his eyes told her that he knew she couldn't.

"Not exactly Adam," she admitted. "But if we replace the prime crystal we should be able to bypass most of the damage."

"Replace?" Adam queried. "Where are you going to get a replacement?"

Then just before Cindy started to unfasten her own armor Adam realized what she was thinking.

"NO! you can't do that," he protested. You'd be a sitting duck."

Cindy continued to shuck her armor.

"I have the stealth of a Sister of Rebirth to fall back on Adam," she countered. "And I'll be able to move faster without my armor."

Then Cindy accessed her suit's primary circuitry. She removed the crystal and handed it to Adam.

"Install this while I reconfigure my stuff," she said.

Adam wasn't happy with the situation but he knew better than to argue with her. While he replaced his armor's damaged crystal with Cindy's, Adam noticed that Cindy made some adjustments to her shoulder bag before she pulled a small black object out of it. Cindy held the object for a moment before it began to transform into a skimpy looking black leather outfit. Which consisted of a pair of boots and a mono-strapped mini dress that left one of her breasts exposed. Since Adam wasn't attracted to girls the casually erotic way Cindy had changed in front of them had little effect on him. It was a different story for his brother however.

"I know you like to flaunt your stuff Cindy," Al said. "But you know these suits don't have much extra room down there."

"Sorry Al," she replied. "But dressing like this makes me feel naughty and that will help me stay on my toes. Tell you what when we get out of here I'll kiss it all better."

"It's a deal," Al said. "But it would have been a lot less painful. If you'd have waited till I was outa this can to make me think about that possibility."

"OK I've got all I'm going to get," Adam reported. "The defense shield is operative at 75% of normal. I've got 95% on stealth. But the best I can do with communications is 37%. While I was at it I also tweaked the power delivery system for my particle beam weapon. I had to bypass some of the safety circuits to do it. But now it will deliver a higher power surge to the weapon. This will yield as much destructive force as a normal two second stream in a 10th of a second burst. Which should greatly increase it's effectiveness. However I'll only get two or three shots in before the backpack unit will need to spend at least 30 seconds cooling down."

"It'll have to do." Cindy said. "It's time we moved out. Before some more of those critters show up. Speaking of which I've rigged whats left of my armor to serve as a booby trap. It will explode if one of those things disturb it. Follow me."

Cindy led them on through the ventilation system. Cindy's nanite control system itself could briefly generate a cloaking field that was actually superior to the one her armor used to provide for her. Though after only three seconds of operation it rapidly degraded and it took nearly a full minute to recalibrate and reset it's field control matrix. In the mean time however, her nanites themselves could provide an extremely effective camouflage image on the surface of her body and/or clothes. This was however completely effective only as long as she remained motionless. Every time she moved they had to recreate a three dimensional image of the background and that took a second. So she had modified their strategy accordingly.

It was Adam's second turn on the pivot position since Cindy sacrificed her armor. He wasn't comfortable with the new pattern. The timing was too critical. Once he was in position Cindy activated her cloaking field as she used his armored shoulder as a fulcrum to launch herself forward. There was no sound but Adam could feel the pressure on his armor. That was the signal for him to activate the scanner pulse and jump back.

This time the energy blast missed him. Cindy's drill dart killed the first monster even as it fired on Adam's position. Her second dart took out another one. Just as two energy blasts hit the spot she'd occupied when she fired the first dart. There was a third blast that fairly accurately targeted the spot where she would have been. If she hadn't used her acrobatic skills to change her trajectory immediately after her last shot. Cindy's third dart took out the more imaginative attacker. At which point her cloaking field faded before she could target the fourth.

Fortunately, even as the creature pointed his weapon at her Al fired a 10 pellet burst with a sweeping motion. One of the first three pellets destroyed the appendage that held the monster's weapon. Two pellets blew small holes in the ductwork next to the creature. The remaining seven penetrated it's primary shell.

"Looks like they don't want us alive any more boys," Cindy let that remark soak in for a second. Then she added, "We better move on before they locate us by the holes Al just blew in the ductwork."

They were getting close to their destination when it happened. Al was in the pivot position. He almost got clear of the blast as he jumped back. Cindy took out two of the three creatures that had been waiting for them. Adam got the third with his particle beam weapon. Cindy detected less damage to Al's armor than Adam's had suffered from a similar hit. At least his stealth system was still working but he wasn't moving. She didn't have time to asses his injury before a massive adult monster literally ripped open the section of ductwork they were in.

The security officer was irritated at the number of fledglings, that had failed to stop the intruders. It was even more irritated that the intruders had killed them all. Their failures merited a much slower demise than the quick death the intruders had given them. Then it had analyzed the pattern made by the locations of the bodies. They seamed to be headed for the same part of the ship where it had captured the others. So it had carefully placed a few small groups of fledglings. Which it had armed with weapons that were specially calibrated for it to detect the exact location of every shot they took.

It was dearly hoping to catch one of the intruders alive enough for it to interrogate. A wave of resentment flowed through it over the way One had claimed the only one of the previous three. That hadn't been able to engage a protective forcefield before the containment field could fully engage.

Suddenly it detected the marker pulses of the fledgling's weapons fire. When it ripped open the ductwork it spotted a small camouflaged biped. The biped's camouflage was actually quite effective but there had been some movement to avoid the jagged edges of the debris from the hole it ripped in the ductwork. The beast marked the spot where the biped had stopped moving but it would have to be careful if it wanted to catch the biped alive. They were such soft shelled things that they were difficult to grasp without accidentally tearing them to shreds.

Perhaps one quick snatching motion would be best. With any luck it's claws wouldn't pierce anything vital and the delicate thing would survive. At least long enough for it to apply the death delaying flavor enhancer to it. These camouflaged ones must be a more advanced subspecies of the creatures they'd been harvesting. Because those pathetic things couldn't have killed even one of the fledglings. It hoped it was right about that. Because the more advanced the creature was, the better it could be made to understand what was happening to it and that invariably lead to a more flavorful form of terror. As the creature was slowly consumed alive.

Cindy had seen the jagged edge of a huge piece of steel hurtling towards her. Fortunately the accelerated reflexes from her recent micro-boost hadn't quite worn off yet. Otherwise she wouldn't have reacted quick enough when she jumped clear of the shrapnel from the disintegrating steel wall and ceiling of the air duct. Cindy observed the size of the clawed appendage which was tearing through the heavy gauge steel like it was so much tin foil. Even as she calculated the trajectories of the flying debris to find a safe spot to establish a stable camouflage image she also set her auto-boost mode to continuous 'combat mode' boost. She would still have to wait another 43 seconds before she could move without being seen. Her best option was to spend the time using her accelerated synapses to calculate the 3 second attack pattern that would do the most damage to the armored behemoth that loomed over the opening it had just torn in the ductwork.

Her sharpened senses felt rather than heard the slight vibration of Adam's armor. As he slowly positioned himself just inside an undamaged section of the ductwork. Where he could fire one or two of those concentrated bursts from his particle beam weapon and have a chance of retreating out of harms way, long enough for his weapon to cool down.

The monster itself had remained motionless for almost 4 seconds after it tore open the ductwork. Suddenly one of it's clawed appendages moved toward Cindy with such speed that even her accelerated reflexes and boosted leg strength only just barely allowed her to leap clear. Even as she jumped Adam fired 3 bursts in rapid succession from his particle beam weapon. Then Adam began to jump back as another one of the monsters massive appendages smashed into the section of duct he was shooting from. Tearing the opening wider with such force that Adam was knocked backwards nearly a hundred feet. If he hadn't already been moving in that direction as fast as his armor could jump he wouldn't have survived the impact.

As it was he almost succumbed to unconsciousness as his senses reeled from the blow. Meanwhile, Cindy's drill dart hit the monsters armor at the spot that 2 out of 3 of Adam's particle beam bursts had softened. Even so, it was only able to drill partway through the armor before it exploded. Cindy didn't even get a second for her camouflage image to stabilize. Before she had to duck another attempt by the beast to grab her with it's claws. While she jumped she fired another drill dart at the same spot on the monsters armor. This one succeeded in blowing a small hole in the behemoth's armor. A third dart might be able to reach it's vital organs.

It was not to be. The beast lunged with yet another appendage at the spot towards which she had just jumped. She hadn't yet landed when two of the four razor sharp prehensile claws, stemming from the four corners of the weight bearing pad that served as a foot or a hand for the beast, closed on the arm with which she had been holding her dart gun. Cindy's heightened senses now only served to increase her awareness of the pain. As she screamed in agony while she watched her dart gun fall from the hand that she no longer had any control over. She was dimly aware that the claws, that had so easily pierced the reinforced bones of her arm, had also severed the nerves connecting her brain to her hand.

The deafening pattern of roaring sounds the beast had been making from the moment it first tore open the ductwork, suddenly changed in pitch to something slightly less harsh on the ears. It must be pleased with itself for having caught her.

Suddenly Al's coilgun began firing one long 50 shot burst of explosive pellets at the base of the appendage that was holding Cindy like a rag doll. Cindy realized that from Al's position the small hole in the monsters armor wasn't in his line of fire. So he had opted to try to free her. She saw that Al was firing from a prone position on his back while a pile of debris had his legs pinned down. He had given his position away when he began firing. He was a sitting duck and there wasn't anything she could do about it.

Then several things happened at once. Al's sacrifice play began to work. The appendage holding her arm flailed wildly as it lost it's grip on her. Throwing her to the floor of the cavernous chamber from which the huge beast had torn into the ductwork. As she fell Cindy saw the monster swing a piece of the structural steel at Al's coilgun, knocking it out of his hands.

She also saw Adam's flickering stealth field as he leaped down to the floor and began moving towards the monster as fast as he could run. Then she hit the floor and rolled using her left hand to hold her shredded right arm in place. So that what was left of it wouldn't be torn off her body in the tumble.

Al's hand went numb, when the heavy piece of steel smashed the coilgun to bits and crushed his armored glove. He saw one of the beasts 5 remaining appendages reaching for him with a slow deliberate motion. Which made him realize that the beast had no intention of granting him the mercy of a quick death.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw his brothers flickering form dive under the beasts midsection. As Adam began firing his particle beam weapon into it's underside.

Adam didn't stop firing when his powerpack's overloaded circuits began to complain that the emergency shutdown circuit had been bypassed. Instead he jumped towards the leathery orifice in the center of the monsters underside.

His brother must have figured out what he was doing about then because the last thing Adam ever heard was Al screaming, "NO DON'T!" In a voice that was, for the first time Adam had ever heard coming from his brother, heavily laced with fear.

Adam's synapses were not fast enough for him to be aware of the moment when his power pack finally exploded. Even as he was trying to crawl inside the beasts orifice. The monster wasn't quite so lucky but it died a much quicker death, than it's commander would have given it, for failing to capture three pathetic bipeds.

Cindy knew what was happening almost as soon as Al did. As soon as she heard the tone of voice with which he had screamed the word 'no' she knew why Adam had been running towards the beast. She was already sobbing with grief when the blast knocked her across the chamber to a point where she could see into the next chamber.

Suddenly a small spark of hope began to glow amid the sea of her despair. They were probably all going to die. Certainly Adam already had but maybe, just maybe, his sacrifice wasn't going to be in vain. Though now that she knew how strong these beasts really were she was no longer confident that her plan would work but at least she would get to play her hole card.

Cindy pulled on the chain around her neck which held her modified recall disk. She pointed it like a lens at the containment field before her. It had taken longer to get here than she had anticipated but thankfully the connection was still hot. Sandra must have committed every last scrap of Hillside's once massive energy reserves into holding the portal connection to her disk open.

When she activated the preprogrammed sequence a large portal sprung into place between her position and the containment field that was holding Jake.

Chapter 34 A Small Spark Of Hope

The modified attack ship passed through the flickering portal just before it snapped shut. Sandra spent the next 15 minutes in the absolute darkness that now permeated the entire underground complex at Hillside. She had funneled every last scrap of power to be had into the task of keeping that damn portal link active. When the power began to run out she had even programmed her nano-tools to siphon what little power was in the emergency lighting systems. Then at the last possible moment, just as Sandra had given up the last vestige of her once confident hope, Cindy activated the recall sequence. That they had preprogrammed to send that unmanned attack shuttle to her position. There was so little power left that she had even had to drain her nano-control system to feed the portalizer so that it didn't snap shut while the fast moving shuttle was only halfway through.

In the dark she waited. There wasn't any point trying to find her way out of it. She could only hope that the archaic emergency restart system, which depended on some components Steve had built in to the underground complex over 900 years ago, would actually work. It had always seemed ridiculous to her that the water running through the decorative waterfall also turned an antique wooden waterwheel. Which spun the small generator that supplied a slow trickle charge to the initialization system for the auxiliary energy collector. The antique water wheel was, of course, hidden in an inaccessible natural cave where it's outflow rejoined the underground stream from which the water had originally been extracted.

She was especially anxious because she knew that once the pumps stopped filling the holding tank that supplied the falls, the tank only had enough water to supply the falls for about half an hour. It wouldn't be until it ran dry that a mechanical switching device would redirect water into the tank from a smaller underground stream that happened to be at a depth where no pump was needed for it to slowly trickle into the tank.. If it came down to that, it would take two hours for the tank to refill to the point where the weight of the water would once again open the valve. Which would start running the water through the falls and the silly wooden water wheel. Sandra just hoped that everyone had listened to the emergency evacuation order she'd issued. When she began to siphon the power from the emergency lighting systems.

Finally the emergency lighting began to glow. Dimly at first but gradually increasing in brightness, until they were as bright as they were designed to be.

Sandra decided to use the emergency stairs rather than wait for enough power to get the elevator working. Twenty minutes later she was catching her breath in the main power systems control room.

When she finished examining the assorted gauges all Sandra could do was shake her head. The auxiliary collector's efficiency was too damn dependent on the weather. Sandra didn't usually wish for thunderstorms but since it was only managing to scavenge about twice the power it took to generate the specialized force field that served as a collection surface. There couldn't be one brewing within a hundred mile radius. The collector field would slowly expand as it absorbed most of the potential electrical energy from the area. It would be so much simpler if they didn't have to restrict the field to the narrow range of resonant frequencies that local science couldn't detect. Just to keep the local authorities from suspecting the existence of the underground base. It would certainly be easier if Steve had been willing to install an array of microfusion power cells, like the one in Jake's lighter. Or even to siphon some of the needed power from the local electric company's power lines but he wouldn't hear of it. So it was probably going to take days to build up enough power to initialize the primary power collection system.

Once there actually was enough power for the primary collector to generate a more robust variant of the collection field, it could start skimming some of the energy that the solar wind cast against the planet's magnetic field. Which would in turn be shielded from the overloaded state that the collected energy could have caused, so that the field could better protect the planet's environments from those energetic particles had they not been so collected. That's when they would finally start to acquire enough power to resume normal operations. Even then it could take years to properly replenish the power reserves. She just hoped Steve wouldn't be too upset when he got back.

It wasn't until she made sure that the power system restart process was working properly that Sandra let herself wonder if Cindy's plan had actually worked. Then she found that she couldn't bear to even think about the possibility that it hadn't.

***

The small unmanned attack ship's power systems were running at maximum when it automatically targeted the containment field in front of it. It took nearly a minute for the containment field to begin to waver. Another minute and the containment field was breached. Cindy's heart filled with hope. Which was suddenly replaced with despair as another huge six legged monstrosity appeared at the other end of the chamber. It was holding a massive weapon which emitted a beam of energy sufficient to vaporize the attack ship. So that even as Jake's eyes began to focus on his surroundings he was again enveloped by a containment force field.

Then the beast turned it's attention to Cindy. She tried to jump clear when it pointed a capture gun at her but she didn't quite make it. The huge beast moved with alarming speed as it approached her. Cindy realized that it was even larger than the one Adam had just taken down.

When it reached her the beast reached out with a strange device from which an assortment of tubes and wires suddenly extended towards her. When they touched her she could suddenly feel the monster's thoughts within her brain. Which was how she knew that the machine that was attaching itself to her would keep her alive as long as possible.

When it detected that the biped was receiving it's thoughts One carefully remembered the last biped intruder it had interrogated. It remembered that bipeds thoughts and pain in exquisite detail. Soon it was rewarded for the effort as it's latest victim began to understand what was about to happen. Cindy was screaming hysterically before the beast even touched her. One was going to thoroughly enjoy this morsel.

It waited until the medical support components of it's flavor enhancement system had repaired the damaged nerves in it's victim's arm. Then it was almost gentile as it dipped it's claws into the shredded flesh of the bipeds arm.

It made sure that it's victim felt the delicious sensations it received from the taste buds on at the base of it's chewing claws, as it carefully tasted a small bit of the damaged tissue. One was so focused on the pleasure it got from tormenting this biped that it never noticed it's doom approaching.

When Jake had momentarily become aware of his surroundings he was contacted by some of the nano-pods, he'd sent on a stealth reconnaissance mission shortly before he was captured. Jake's nano-pods were able to perform many complex tasks. Yet they fell short of the sentience required to take action outside the scope of their programming.

When they couldn't reach Jake for further orders, they had followed their stealth reconnaissance protocols. Which were to continue infiltrating systems and gathering data and to replicate as necessary to do so. Above all however, their stealth protocol required them to avoid detection. Which had kept them from actively interfering with any of the circuits they infiltrated.

When the force field failed they were able to report. More importantly Jake was able to command a switch to a combat mode that allowed them to take action. When the containment field went back up Jake's nano-pods immediately began to deactivate it.

Again it took a few seconds for Jake to be fully aware of his surroundings. Even so that gave him just enough time to review the reports that his nano-pods had extracted from the last remaining cluster of Jess's augmentation nanites. Thus when the containment field faded the second time Jake was painfully aware of the terrible fate that had befallen his friend. Which made him very angry. Then, as he became aware of his surroundings the second time, he saw what was beginning to happen to Cindy.

Suddenly his anger turned to a rage that went beyond anything he'd ever felt before. For the first time he achieved total control over each and every individual one of his nanites, including the many nano-pods that had self replicated while he was out of touch.

As he ran towards the beast, that was just beginning to torture his beloved Cindy, Jake commanded all the nano-pods within the immense chamber to wrap his body in a flexible nano-armor. Complete with a nanite consuming molecular disruption system built into the outer surface.

One's flavor enhancer was still pumping One's thoughts into Cindy's brain when it became suddenly aware that something hot was searing it's way in through it's fleshy underside and literally tearing it's organs to bits.

It realized the lethal nature of the damage being done to it just long enough to wonder why it's attacker wasn't taking the time to properly enjoy it's demise. Then suddenly, it was over. Cindy barely had time to realize, that the gore covered man that suddenly cracked open the giant's shell from the inside was in fact her beloved Jake, when darkness took her.

For his part Jake sent half his remaining nanites to repair Cindy's body. Or more accurately half of the ones within the immediate vicinity. While he had been contained his stealth mode nano-pods had infiltrated quite a few ship's systems. In the process they had self-replicated nearly a hundred pounds of new nanites.

Jake was surprised by the feedback from his nanites as they encountered Cindy's implants. He perceived that it was Sandra's handiwork. He wasn't sure what he thought about advanced Hillside technology being used this way but for the moment he decided not to interfere with it.

As soon as he was certain that Cindy would live Jake turned some of his attention to the machine that the monster had attached to Cindy. He configured some nano-pods to probe it's circuits and soon discovered a record of the thoughts the beast had pumped into it's last hundred victims. This included the way it had tormented Jess with what it was going to do with the technical data it had extracted from him.

It was even worse than he feared. The beast hadn't quite been scientist enough to make direct use of the guild technology that had just been compromised but it had recognized it's value. It had included enough of it, in a preliminary report to it's homeworld, to give these creatures a terrible tactical advantage over anything the Guild would throw at them.

Worse, the idea of nanites had never occurred to these creatures but that was about to change. Their own technology was advanced enough that once they started trying to develop nanotechnology, it wouldn't take them long to come up with something really nasty.

The cargo ship carrying the report and nearly a quarter million people from the planet below was already en route. It had left just long enough ago that Jake didn't have any chance of stopping it from getting there.

Things would have been bad enough if that message didn't exist. These beasts considered themselves to be the only true 'people' in the universe. They were already gathering together and arming for a massive round of conquest. When their preparations were complete they would explode across the galaxy. Jake decided he had no choice but to take drastic action.

He carried Cindy on one shoulder and on the other he just barely managed to carry the energy weapon that One had used to destroy that modified attack ship. He looked for and soon found Al.

When he got there he had to kill a couple of the fledgling monsters that were busy fighting over who's flavor enhancer to attach to the trapped wounded biped. By the time he had freed Al from the pile of rubble that was pinning him down Cindy was conscious. Neither Cindy nor Al were very steady on their feet but they both insisted they could walk.

"I'm glad to hear it," Jake said. "Cause I need both arms to make much use of this energy cannon that their captain used for a sidearm. And we're going to need some firepower if were going to reach the captain's personal shuttle."

As he said that Jake tried to reassure Cindy with a familial touch on her arm but she pulled away.

"Are you okay?" he asked her.

"I'm fine," she replied without emotion.

Jake noticed that Cindy wouldn't look him in the eyes but he decided to worry about it later. Time was in short supply so Jake downloaded a complete map of the ship from his nano-pods. Then he led his companions on the route least likely to encounter more of the beasts.

"It's fortunate," Jake commented. "That whenever their captain decided to hunt one of the crew it always disconnected it's communicator signal."

"And what makes that so fortunate?" Al queried.

It was Cindy who explained in a low flat monotone devoid of any feeling.

"He means that whenever their communicators don't tell them where to find their captain," she said. "Most of those things start trying to avoid going anywhere they think it might find them."

Jake and Al exchanged worried glances as they listened to her speak.

There were two sentries guarding the entrance to the private hanger containing the captains shuttle. Without hesitation, Jake fired one blast from the massive energy weapon that vaporized both of them.

"The fact that these guards were killed by their captains weapon should delay the investigation into what just happened here," Jake said. "But we need to move quickly."

"I'd have thought that with them all running away from their captain," Al said, with a shake of his head. "That we'd be able to take it easy for a few."

Again Cindy explained in the same flat monotone.

"Except that it won't be long before they realize," she said. "That their captain wouldn't have given those sentries such a quick death."

Al looked at Jake, who just shook his head. Then the access door to the shuttle opened.

"Get in you two," Jake said. "See if you can't find a way to strap yourselves down. I'll be right back."

Then he walked over to a piece of equipment that was pulsating with energy. He wedged the energy weapon under it. He ordered his nanites to destabilize the protective forcefield around the big ship's interior fuel lines. Next he did something to the weapon's controls and ran back to the shuttle. As he did so, he ordered his nanites to initialize it's emergency launch sequence.

Two seconds after he stepped inside the shuttle, the door slammed shut and the shuttle's launch sequence began. Just before the shuttle passed outside the ships massive hull Jake gave the nanites still onboard the big ship one final order. The shuttle was only just barely clear of the ship's massive main drive engines when they began pushing the ship rapidly on a system departure course. It's powerful engines accelerated it away so rapidly. That when it's primary reactor core exploded five minutes into the flight the shock wave did little damage to the planets atmosphere. The portion of it's population that were still on LosLand should survive the blast. Though the brief burst of radiation would take a few years off most of their lives.

Chapter 35 A Sad Return & A Hasty Departure

"We have a problem!" Jake said. "Actually we have a major problem. If Hillsides power reserves are as depleted as you say, it will be more than a week before they will be able to open a portal for us. But I need to get there today. There really isn't any time to waste. Worse still, it won't do any good to get there, if there isn't enough power to crank out at least a hundred tons worth of custom nano-morphic starship."

"I'm sorry Jake," Cindy apologized vaguely. Then she looked at Al and added with quivering lips. "And I am so sorry Al..."

"What for?" Al interrupted her. Then he continued without giving her a chance to answer. "Are you sorry that you figured a way to spring Jake here? You've got nothing to be sorry for. If it wasn't for your plan..."

At this point Cindy tried to interrupt him.

"Then Adam would still be alive!" she said.

"Don't you dare blame yourself for that!" Al spoke strongly. There was a single sob that he couldn't quite hold in but then he continued. "My brother made his own decision. He decided you meant more to him than his own life. He made a terrible sacrifice. 'He' did it! Don't you dare take that away from him."

As he spoke the tears began to run down his face.

"Besides," Jake said. "If there's anyone to blame here it's me. If I hadn't been so damned cocksure of myself..."

Al suddenly spun on his heels and glared into Jake's eyes.

"You either boss!" he yelled. "Don't you dare go blaming yourself for what happened to my brother. And don't cheapen the sacrifices that Stephanie and Jess made either. You know damn well that they all made their choices long before they came here. They wouldn't, none of them, want you two to be wallowing in guilt for what happened to them. So you can just knock that shit off."

"What do you want from me Al?" Jake began. "Am I supposed to be alright with this?"

He would have said more but Al cut him off.

"No! You're not supposed to be alright with it," Al said. "But you can damn well honor their sacrifices by finding some way to make their deaths count for something. Damn it! Don't let it be for nothing."

By this time Al's tears were flowing so hard he could hardly see and his voice almost failed him completely as he continued in something in between a scream and a whisper, "Please don't let it all be for nothing!"

A single tear escaped Jake's eye and rolled down his face as he answered.

"No Al, not for nothing," he said. "It wouldn't be just for nothing even if we, all of us, fail to finish the job. Even then what they did in the name of love and honor. Would not be in vain. For they spent their lives fighting for their friends. And win or lose, that's gotta count for something. But you're right, I've been wallowing in my own feelings of guilt and self pity. Instead of trying to find a solution. The trouble is that the only thing I can think of is just too damn dangerous."

"Dangerous?!?" Al said incredulously. "How do you mean too dangerous?"

Then he continued in a voice laced with much sadness. While in his eyes a small spark of hope could be seen.

"I can understand why you might not want to take any more chances with us boss," he continued. "But speaking for myself, if there's even the slightest chance of making Adam's death count for something." Then with a quick glance in Cindy's direction he added. "And I can tell you that is how she felt about Stephanie's loss before..." Al's voice suddenly trailed off.

As lethargic as Cindy had been, since One had invaded her mind, she was as aware of her surroundings as ever and she had been listening to every word they said. Before either Al or Jake thought of what else to say, she began speaking in that same emotionless monotone she'd used whenever she'd bothered to speak since.

"That once was true when I still felt the life within me," she explained. "I said I was sorry a few minutes ago. I said it because it was also once true.

Now it doesn't matter anymore. I neither care if I live or die because I feel nothing inside anymore. Neither fear nor desire. I remember caring for people. I remember feeling a sense of honor. And that I once even felt love. But now there is only debt and a vague sense of duty. I said I was sorry to you Jake, because you deserve better than this. But it seems that I have nothing left to offer you."

Cindy looked directly at Jake for only the briefest of moments before she continued.

"I said I feel nothing Jake," she said. "It would perhaps be better if that were strictly true. For there are a few dark things that I still do feel and they are anger, hatred and loathing.

Anger at what they did to me. Hatred for what they are. And loathing for anything that reminds me of it. I know you only did it to save me Jake. But now, every time I see your face I remember how you looked when you clawed your way through that monster. And that reminds me of what he was doing to me. It seems I've lost everything that made my life worth living. But I still have my anger and my hatred for those monsters that took it from me Jake.

If there is a way to hurt them, to ruin their plans, don't let the danger it would put me in slow you down. Just get on with it."

Jake's nanites had been deeply scanning Cindy's brain as she spoke. They informed him that all her brainwave patterns indicated that she was actually speaking the truth. He came to the painful realization that there wasn't anything he could do about it. Though he could perhaps order his nanites to rewire her brain. Which, since it would be an attempt to repair her damaged wetware, wouldn't be enough of a violation of the nanosymbiotic pact for his nanites to refuse the instruction.

If he did that however, there would be even less of the Cindy he loved left inside her. He turned away so that she wouldn't see the tears. That he could no longer stop from trickling slowly down his face. Somehow he managed to keep the pain out of his voice when he replied.

"It is not the danger to us that stays my hand," Jake began. "Though I would, that I could spare you from it. But the danger is far bigger than either of you grasp."

Al snorted.

"So why don't you just explain it to us?" he asked. "I for one would really like to understand. Just what is this dangerous plan you're so damn afraid of?"

"Very well Al," Jake said, turning to face the man. "I'll tell you about this half baked notion of mine."

By this time Jake's nanites had removed all traces of the tears. Nonetheless Jake saw Al's features soften with concern as he looked into Jake's eyes.

"But know that aside from the danger," Jake continued, as he turned back away from his friend. "I'm not at all sure that it's more than a pipe dream anyway. You see it depends on a few things that I'm not exactly sure of.

For starters, it depends on whether or not the portal link back in that cave is as advanced as I think it might be. I've been told Steve used to spend a lot of time here. I think he might have modified it to include the nucleus of a full fledged portalizer. But even if he did, then I'm not sure if any of the access ciphers, that happened to be in his symbiont's current active memory map the day some of his nanites became mine, will happen to include the one I'd need to activate that nucleus.

And finally, it also depends on whether or not I can adapt it to run on the form of energy that powers that alien shuttle behind us.

Then the real danger only comes into it if all of those things do fall into place. And even if they do, then it's all pointless unless I can bring enough power with us. To crank up some of Hillsides most power hungry machines as far as they can go. The only way I can do that depends on whether I can get a massive shipment of high energy pseudo mater through an active portal. Without blowing it all up."

"I gotta admit that's a lot of ifs," Al said while shaking his head. "But I still don't see what's so Earth shakingly dangerous."

Jake sighed and tried again to explain the danger.

"I'm talking about using an active portal," he said. "To transfer a shipment of pseudo mater Al." Jake paused for a second. Then he continued, "Pseudo mater is a form of concentrated energy. Any form of which is inherently dangerous. And the kind that fuels that shuttle is exceptionally volatile. If enough of it to do what I need to do were to destabilize, while in mid-transfer, it would tear open a hole in the fabric of the universe. The transdimensional rift would snap shut in less than a nanosecond of course. But in that brief moment the rift would have totally consumed both planets"

As Al considered this his whole body began to sag but once again Cindy proved that she had been listening and that whatever was wrong with her did not interfere with her ability to reason.

"Would you deny them the chance of a quick death?" she asked. "When the alternative is what happened to me?" Then she looked directly at Jake and for the first time since One had invaded her mind, there was a faint trace of emotion in Cindy's voice as she continued. "Or what we both know happened to Jess?"

It took Jake an hour to rig a power converter that he hoped wouldn't fry the portal link. Another three hours to find the right combination of ciphers to activate the hidden program. Next he had to verify that the complex coordinates for Hillside were intact and program the portal for the special transfer sequence. Then at last, the portal was ready.

***

Hillside's power shortage was so critical that they were actually burning oil in the so called main boiler system. Which was installed in the back of the garage building. This equipment was mainly for show. In case some government agency wanted to inspect the facility. Most of the resulting steam was being used to generate electricity but a small percentage was providing them with a limited supply of hot water.

There wasn't enough for the jacuzzi room. Even hot showers had to be rationed. So Sandra had pooled her ration with Linda Stockwell. Which gave them just enough for a shared hot soak, in the tub in Steve's rooftop cabin.

When Linda's son, who was now 13 months old, was finally ready for his nap, Linda tucked him in while Sandra drew the hot water for their shared bubble bath. Sandra was comfortable with the idea of sharing the bath with Linda in spite of knowing that Linda was bisexual. They knew each other well enough that she didn't even feel like she had to remind Linda that she wasn't.

Steve's tub was an oversized variant on an old fashioned design with legs and comfortably sloping backrests. It was however, designed for two people to be able to lean back comfortably facing each other, while playing 'footsie'. The spigot was actually slightly recessed at the midpoint on one side of the tub. The drain was at the midpoint on the other side.

They had just finished climbing into the tub. The hard part was taking care not to let one's feet wind up in the other's crotch.

"I so needed this," Sandra commented.

"Me too," began Linda. "Isn't this the part where I jokingly offer to wash your back if you'll wash mine?"

Sandra shook her head.

"No joke," she said. "Back washing is fine with me. Front washing, not so much." They both giggled. "But not," Sandra continued. "Until I've soaked for a couple of..."

The intruder alert startled Sandra so much that she jumped. Pushing herself to a more upright position with her foot. Then she suddenly realized what her foot was pushing against. She quickly pulled her foot back.

"I'm sorry Linda," she said, "I didn't mean to... Err tell me my toe wasn't..."

"Would if I could Sandra." Linda said with a grin. "But I'm afraid your big toe is no longer a virgin."

Meanwhile Sandra was busy climbing out of the tub.

"Not what I wanted to hear." she replied. "I gotta go, Damn it!"

Sandra grabbed her minimally charged nanite control system and began running down the stairs. She had only gone down two flights of stairs when the alert signal changed from intruder alert to her personal attention signal but the location code didn't change.

Something major was going on in the large portalizer chamber. She was tempted to override the elevator's lockdown mode but she decided to stay on the stairs. Accordingly she palmed a certain brick at the bottom of the stairs. The concealed identi-scanner triggered a hidden access door to open, giving her access to a long spiral staircase that very few knew even existed.

When she eventually reached the correct level she opened another concealed access door. As she stepped inside, she saw a strange alien design craft filling most of the chamber. Then she noticed the three people in the chamber. Jake was busy connecting a cable from the strange ship to a primary power grid circuit. She was about to tell him that the primary power systems were down when she noticed the outwardly shell shocked appearance of Cindy and one of the Eastman twins. Then it dawned on her that there wasn't anybody else there.

"Jess?" she asked. With a slight quiver in her voice.

Jake just shook his head.

Suddenly Sandra was leaning against the wall. She looked inquiringly at the other man.

"Your brother?" she asked.

"Adam couldn't make it," Al answered hoarsely.

By this time Jake had finished patching the shuttle's power systems into Hillside's and most of Hillside's major systems were suddenly coming back on line.

He turned to Sandra, looking deeply into her eyes.

"Are you OK Sandra?" he asked.

"Not really Jake," Sandra replied. "But I will be. I always knew something could happen to him when he went off planet with one of you. The pain will eventually fade and I'll be OK. Just not yet."

As she said this Sandra had also been busy watching Cindy. Now she nodded her head in Cindy's direction.

"What's up with her?" she asked.

At that moment Sam walked into the chamber. He was listening when Jake sighed.

"I'm afraid I've lost her," Jake explained. "She'll live. She may even eventually heal. But even if she does, she won't be mine anymore."

Then he nodded towards Sam.

"I hate to ask this of you Sam," he said. "But would you mind keeping an eye on Cindy for a while?"

Sam looked a little puzzled but he shrugged, turned on his heels and started walking towards Cindy.

After a slight pause Jake turned back to Sandra.

"I'm sorry to do this to you Sandra," Jake said gently. "But there is no time and I need your help."

As he said this he pressed the call button on the elevator, just as Hillside's power levels became sufficient for it to be automatically restored to service. The elevator itself had evidently been near the portalizer chamber when the power failed as the door opened immediately. Sandra followed him inside.

"What with?" Sandra inquired, as the elevator door closed behind her.

"Jess told me once," Jake explained, as he pulled the emergency stop. "That without a sentient nanosymbiont, I can't risk inverse temporal dilation. Unless I've managed to build a complex bond with an AI system. He also told me it would likely take me the better part of a century to accomplish that. So I need you to help me build a semi-symbiont AI system."

This time there wasn't anything vague in the way Sandra said, "What?"

"We'll have to modify one of your VR chambers," Jake continued. "So we can use it to help me imprint a blank AI matrix."

Sandra looked horrified at the idea.

"No Jake, that's just too damned dangerous," she said. "I don't know why you want to take such a long range flight so soon. But whatever it is, it can just plain wait another week until Steve comes back."

"I'm sorry Sandra," Jake began again. "But the way things are I need to be in inverted dilation within the next 36 hours."

To attempt such a thing without years of thought mapping the database. In order to properly sync with the way Jake's mind was organized, was unthinkable. Yet Sandra could tell that Jake was quite serious about it.

"Alright then," she said. "Tell me what could possibly be so important as to risk turning yourself into a zombie for!"

Jake held out a small flat device.

"I did say I was sorry Sandra," Jake said. "This data tab contains a copy of Jess's final augmentation report."

These words affected Sandra like a slap in the face. Jake hadn't said it was an extract from the report. He'd said it was a copy of it. This was something Steve's oath to the guild wouldn't have allowed. She looked closely at Jake's face and saw that a tear was slowly working it's way down his cheek.

She took the data tab and plugged it into her nanite control system, which would filter the direct report enough to protect her brain. Then she donned a custom headset.

When she came to her senses her hands were on fire with pain. She looked at them and saw that her knuckles were bleeding as were the tips of her fingers where some of her fingernails had been torn off.

Then she looked up at Jake's face just in time to see the remains of one of her nails fall out of the torn flesh of his cheek. His face was full of bloody scratches. One of which raked across his left eye, which had nearly been torn out of it's socket.

Even as she realized what she had done however, she could see that Jake's nanites were busy repairing the damage. Then as she watched the miracle of Jake's eye healing from within, she became aware that her hands had stopped hurting. She looked down just in time to see her missing fingernails grow back.

"I'm sorry Jake," she began. "I just wasn't ready for..." Jake gently placed a finger on her lips.

"No Sandra," he interrupted. "Like I said, I'm the one who's sorry. I didn't want to put you through that. But I couldn't think of any other way to convince you that I need that AI, right now."

"But I shouldn't have taken it out on you like that." Sandra protested. "Now I know what they are, what they did and what they will do if we don't stop them. Yet it still doesn't matter, we should wait for Steve. Steve loved Jess too you know. He won't let them get away with this. He will do something about it."

"Which is precisely why we can't wait Sandra," Jake began. "Steve will realize, as I have, that there isn't time to goad the council into acting. They've been ignoring the warning signs of this for centuries now. They won't be quick to change that behavior. And even if the council voted unanimously to commit the entire guild fleet to a state of war. They couldn't mobilize it in time to stop these monsters from starting their planned explosion of galactic conquest.

These monsters are like a malignant cancer. They must be totally eradicated before they begin to spread." Jake paused for a moment. "Don't you see Sandra," Jake continued. "Steve would simply make the same decision I have. Only in his case, his oath to the guild would stop him from doing it right. Heck, as much as he would agree with me, he'd have to try to stop me. Oh there's a good chance that the guild would eventually win this war. But not before many thousands, nay, make that millions of worlds are consumed. Quite possibly including this one.

Steve would know all that of course. So after he stopped me from going, he'd most likely decide to do it himself. But without the time to get the consensus of the guild council or even a quorum of fellow questors, He would have to resort to the total trans-vengeance protocol. Which would allow him to complete one final task before all of his nanites would be forced to self destruct. And that would be the end of him.

But since I'm not yet beholding to guild regulations, I can and must, act. My chances of surviving this aren't much better than Steve's would be. But unlike him, I'd have some chance of it. And because I'll have left a little sooner than he could have. I'll have a much better chance of finishing the job before they explode across the galaxy, in a wave of conquest that even the guild may be unable to stop.

Please help me. I know you think it's too dangerous. But the fact is, it's something I must do. And I need the advantage of being awake for most of the many long subjective years of the journey. In order to have enough time to fine tune my plan of attack. So that I might figure out how do it in such a way as to have even a slight chance of coming back alive. But either way, I'll be leaving on schedule." With that said, Jake turned around, opened the elevator door and stepped off the elevator. Next to which he saw Sam leaning against the wall.

Sam was crying.

"I'm sorry Sam," Jake said. "I shouldn't have put this on you."

"No I'm sorry," Sam replied. "I didn't really mean it. But when I was busy blaming you for what happened to Sue, I wished this on you."

"That's not the cause of this Sam," Jake said. "You were hurting and you were right. I didn't fully understand."

"But now you do Jake," Sam said sadly. "And I'm sorry. I know I didn't cause this thing to happen to Cindy. But I'm still sorry for your pain. I don't know what I can really do to help. But I'll try to keep an eye on her. Who knows, she used to like me you know. Maybe her memory of that will help."

"That is all I can ask for Sam," Jake replied. "Thanks! And don't worry about me, or my feelings. Anything that helps her remember how to feel again... Anything!"

Suddenly Jake turned away and quickly stepped back into the elevator.

***

It hadn't been easy to convince everyone that he had to do this alone but once they believed him, that his best chance of coming back alive would be if he didn't need to find a way to preserve anyone else's life, it became a little easier. Jake had used about one third of the energy from One's shuttle to construct the core of his new personal ship.

He had left Hillside with half of the remaining two thirds. Most of what he had left still remained in the form of that high energy pseudo matter that his enemies used for fuel. Which Jake had started referring to as synthuel. They had been fortunate to have commandeered One's personal shuttle. It had been the only shuttle on board the enemy ship with a large enough fuel reserve to get the job done.

"Star Dragon to Hillside control," He spoke into his communication system. "All onboard systems are go for launch. Please initialize the portalizer sequence at your earliest convenience."

"OK Jake," Sandra's voice said. "Portalizer shielded launch sequence, Jake zero zero one, is initialized. Fare thee well Jake. Don't forget to come back to us."

"Well that is the plan!" Jake replied. As his new ship began to move towards the portal. Then he quickly added, "Farewell Hillside. Commencing silent running. Star Dragon out."

Then he was gone.

Chapter 36 Sorrow

Questor's nano-symbiont gently prodded it's host mind to full consciousness. He quickly scanned the status board. All systems were functioning normally. His symbiont had done a masterful job of inserting the shuttle into normal time. Close enough to Earth that a voice transmission would experience a transmission delay of only 0.1 subcyclets each way. Next Questor hailed Hillside control. 0.2 subcyclets later he received a signal acknowledgment from Hillside's computer. To his surprise however, it took less than another 0.2 subcyclets for Sandra's image to fill the communication console's display screen.

"Welcome home Steve," Sandra's voice said.

Though her eyes told him that something was terribly wrong.

"What's the matter Sandra?" he demanded.

"We've had some casualties Steve," Sandra's voice said. "I'm sorry to tell you that Jess, Stephanie and Adam are..."

At this point Sandra's image showed her breaking down into tears as she was unable to finish telling him. Steve sent a coded command signal to Hillside's AI with precise coordinates for an immediate portalizer aperture and began matching speed with the Earths crust. Two cyclets later he was in the portal chamber, holding Sandra like a baby as she cried into his shoulder.

"There's more." She managed to say between the sobs that were racking her body.

She held out the data tab Jake had given her. She had added as complete a report of everything else that had happened since Steve left as she could manage. As Steve reached for it she pulled it back slightly.

"You won't like this," she said. Then as she let Steve take it from her she added, "I'm sorry Steve..."

There wasn't anything else to say. Steve had begun to access the data. Suddenly he sagged and fell to his knees as his mind generated so much pain and anger that for a moment even his symbiont wasn't able to keep him on his feet. He would have fallen further but Sandra supported him as much as she could. Then suddenly all emotion faded from his face and Sandra found herself talking with Steve's symbiont.

"Don't worry Sandra," the flat emotionless voice said. "He will be alright. I had to induce a temporary sleep state because I couldn't abide his pain. He would want me to tell you that this wasn't your fault.

When he wakes he will need someone to cry with. Since Stephanie and Jess are both gone, you are the only remaining member of the group that he isn't ashamed to show such weakness to. Would you be..."

Sandra placed a finger over Steve's lips.

"Of course I will!" She interrupted, "I just hope my own sorrow doesn't make things worse."

"I calculate that he will heal faster if he finds that he can offer you a measure of comfort," the symbiont said after a brief pause.

Sandra looked into the emotionless eyes as she replied.

"Would you object to my cuddling with Steve's body while he sleeps?" she inquired.

In lieu of answer, the symbiont took Sandra by the hand. Steve's symbiont led the way to his private study and sat with her on the couch within. Once there he reached out and gently pulled her to him.

"Take what comfort you can," the symbiont said. "He will find this in his memory when he wakes."

Sandra placed her head on his shoulder and quietly cried.

The symbiont calculated what his host-mind would do to soothe this woman's pain. It wasn't logical that gently caressing her back and shoulder should really offer her any comfort. Especially since this particular woman was aware of how little emotion the symbiont felt when the host-mind wasn't actively involved but it couldn't see any valid reason not to try.

Sandra knew what it was doing. She knew the symbiont was only emulating Steve's behavior but she also knew that Steve would have wanted to offer her such comfort. So she allowed the physical sensation to lull her slowly to sleep.

While she slept, the symbiont sifted through the information from the data tab. It correlated it with the embedded hidden message that Jake had left in it for Steve. There was no reason to rush off anyplace. It was already far too late to stop his apprentice from committing a deed so terrible that he would almost certainly be better off if he didn't survive the doing of it. The symbiont also analyzed the data on the condition of Hillside's wounded. It calculated that Al would eventually heal without further intervention. It wasn't as sure about Sam but it was quite sure that there wasn't anything that Hillside could do to help Cindy. Her mind was far too severely wounded.

Sandra woke slowly. She knew immediately that it was Steve rather than his symbiont that was caressing her so tenderly. She could tell by the stream of tears that ran down his face. She was about to thank him when she heard someone walk in.

"Hello Otmer," she heard Steve say. "It's been a long time."

"Call me Darg!" she heard the newcomer reply, "Otmer died years ago. I've come to offer my condolences on your loss. And to ask your advice about my world. For I must soon return to do what I can for my people. I think I shall return to Twin Falls and see if I can use what influence I yet wield amongst the Brethren and some of the mountain people, to help what's left of my world through the difficult times ahead. But should I council my people to rebuild or to dig in and hide? Did your apprentice really drive the dragons from my world?"

"You will need much help Darg," Steve said. "But I can assure you that those particular dragons are gone for good. For by now Jake has smote them, all of them and there are no more of them anywhere. Though I also tell you truly that the cost to himself has been far too great."

***

The Captain was puzzled by the massive void he'd detected near the outer edge of the galaxy. He was sure that he would have noticed it on his last trip through this region. Since he hadn't, he must conclude that whatever caused it was a recent phenomenon that had to have occurred in as little as the 11 overcycles of real time since the last time he had passed through this region of space.

The void was roughly spherical and spanned more than 100,000 galactic standard light years. It was also empty. He could find no trace of the 95,789 star systems that his star map indicated used to be there. There was no matter, no residual energy, no particles for his ship to feed on. The Captain quickly plotted a new course through other healthier regions of space but even as he locked it into the navigation system he detected the faintest trace of an automated distress signal.

The pattern of the signal was an unofficial variant of a guild signal pattern such as might be used by someone who didn't want to be properly identified. There was something familiar in the pattern. It reminded the Captain of an old covert code once used by a certain fellow former spacer, before the guild was reformed. Of course it wasn't an exact match. It resembled the output of the same signal with a different encryption algorithm. Which could only mean it wasn't him. Suddenly the Captain realized what it could mean and once again changed his course. He swung around in a large circle to scavenge as much power as he could before entering the void.

The thousand galactic standard years of subjective time it took him to complete the maneuver didn't matter to the distressed vessel. For it was stuck in realtime and so it was that in the self same instant that the captain's sensors had found the pattern of the signal that had been thinly spread across the vastness of space. For the first time in many thousands of realtime years, the Captain of the Resonance made an unscheduled emergency stop, without waking any of his crew. When the Resonance dropped into normal space time the Captain decided he should actually match it's trajectory before doing anything that might disturb the damaged craft. He took great care to ensure that none of his breaking thrust brushed across the wreck before him.

The extensive damage bore no resemblance to that caused by any weapon known to the guild. It was like the very atomic structure had begun to dissolve, except that there wasn't any sign of the kind of damage as would have been caused by the vast energy that would have released. His sensors told him that what remained was so fragile that the slightest touch could cause large sections of the structure to crumble. Yet they also told him that there was a small power source inside that was barely providing power to a stasis field. It took all of the Captain's skill to extract the stasis chamber intact.

The young man eventually awoke to find himself in a guild design medical quarantine forcefield. He looked through the transparent walls to see that he was located in what appeared to be a large open area next to a raised platform where he could see an imposing figure standing at what looked like an antique nautical wheel. He didn't need to see the overhead view of the stone like rings of the ship's structure to be sure of his location. Even so, he phrased his acknowledgment of it in the form of a question.

"So, I'm aboard the Resonance am I?" he asked in a conversational tone.

The man at the wheel looked closely at him, and replied in kind.

"So, your an apprentice to the Questor then?" the Captain said in a similar tone, before he continued in his usual stern voice. "What's more," he said, "I expect your name is Jake? But as to how you came to be in that crumbling ruin that might have once been a star shuttle of some kind I can not fathom. Nor what caused the destruction of said shuttle."

"Well that explains the isolation chamber," Jake said with a smile. "If it will put your mind at ease I can assure you that your ship is in no danger from contamination."

"I'm glad to hear it!" the Captain responded. "But that still does little to explain what happened to it. Nor what, if anything it has to do with the disappearance of well near a hundred thousand stars from this region of the galaxy. Would you perhaps, be able to enlighten me on either of those two subjects?"

Jake wore a grim expression as he answered.

"Yes Captain, the two are most certainly related," Jake explained. "As to my ship, I'm afraid I managed to blast myself right out of temporal inversion." Jake paused for a moment to let the humor he didn't quite feel sink in. "You see, what happened to all those star systems, was me. And when I've given you the details, I doubt not but that you will be obliged to place me in the brig. Until you can haul my sorry ass before the guild council. But before that happens I must ask a favor from you. One that I fear you won't feel much like granting when you learn of the sad tidings that I have the unfortunate duty to present you with. I am sorry but the fact is I'm the bearer of much sorrow."

Suddenly the quarantine field was was gone.

"Well that tears it then!" the Captain exclaimed. "We'll talk in my cabin.

The Captain insisted on pouring them drinks.

"No Jake, you are the apprentice of a dear friend," the Captain said. "I'm not about to allow us to become enemies, without first having at least shared a toast to your success."

Neither of them chose to linger over the drinks. No sooner had they finished pouring the fiery beverage down their throats than the Captain commanded Jake to speak.

"Alright now lets have it," he said. "Tell me this bit of sad news."

"Very well sir," Jake began softly. "As my mentor may have told you, I'm now the master of his former base at Hillside. And as such I became the commanding officer of your former crewman."

Jake was interrupted by the sound of breaking glass as the Captain's empty glass was suddenly crushed to splinters.

"Is Jess gone then?" he demanded in a strained voice.

As Jake replied, he felt again the terrible sadness that he'd lived with for several million years of subjective time while he slowly transformed his ship into a weapon of terrible destruction.

"Yes Captain, I'm sorry to say he followed me to his doom," Jake explained. "I wish I could say that he had at least died quickly. But as you will learn from his final report, it was a death more terrible than even a questor should be capable of imagining. Yet I'm proud to tell you that he fought with every fiber of his being right down to his very last breath."

Suddenly Jake realized that his vision had become blurred with the tears he hadn't been able to suppress. He commanded his nanites to enhance his vision to compensate for the tears he knew wouldn't stop for hours. When the Captains face came back into focus. Jake felt pierced by the Captains silent stare. Then the Captain broke the silence.

"I see that you feel his loss most strongly Jake," the Captain observed. "You said something about Jess's final report?"

Jake nodded, and produced two data tabs.

"I'm sorry to bring you such pain," Jake apologized again. "His report data is part of the record of how I came to to commit genocide against the dominant species of this region. And several others who were within range of their abusive dominance. I'd suggest that you refrain from holding anything fragile or dangerous when you scan it. The other tab contains the details of that favor I must ask of you."

The captain took the data tabs and tucked them away in his vest pocket.

"I'll get to them soon enough," he began. "But first I notice you had this data all prepared for me. How is it that you were so sure it would be the Resonance that found you?"

Jake shook his head.

"I wasn't sure of that at all," he replied. "Though I hoped it might be so. To tell you the truth, I'm more than a little surprised that my containment field preserved enough of me for you to find."

The Captain stood up.

"Please follow me Jake," he said. "One thing is for sure, if your really responsible for the destruction of so many star systems, I will most certainly be required to lock you up. And I think it might be better if I did so before I scan these data tabs. Will you come along peacefully Jake?"

Jake just nodded and followed the captain to his prison chamber. The brig was in a different ring segment of the ship than the Captains quarters. Nonetheless Jake was aware of the exact moment when the Captain got around to scanning the data tab containing Jess's report. The Captain's nanites were, after all, an integral part of the ship's systems. So the lights flickered, the intercom system buzzed and for the briefest of instants, even the brig's containment field failed. Yet Jake remained where he was. He actually needed to face the guild council and that was where the Resonance would be taking him. Jake waited alone in his cell for 3 sleepcycles before he heard someone coming into the outer chamber.

"I bear a message from the Captain," the stranger said. "He says to tell you that it might be several more days before he finds the time to talk with you again. He has explained some of your crime and most of your plight to us Nearkin. All of us. In fact we are in the middle of an unscheduled awakening. So that all of us may morn the passing of the one you called Jess.

The Captain has taken great care to explain that we shouldn't blame you for what happened to Jess. And in fact, while you've done a terrible thing, it was that same terrible deed that is largely responsible for the fact that no other Nearkin will ever suffer Jess's fate. And for this we should be grateful. So it is that we've prepared a larger, more comfortable prison for you, where you will be allowed to participate in some of our festivities. The Captain has told me that I'm to accept your word bond that you won't try to escape and then to escort you to your new cell. Do I have your word bond?"

Chapter 37 Summons

Darg was making a final check of the supplies that Steve had insisted on giving him, when he heard the door to that moving chamber they called an elevator opening behind him. He heard it open, but he didn't hear it close, nor did he hear it's occupant move to step out of it. He didn't have to turn around to know who it was.

"Are you going to step out of that thing or not Samantha?" Darg asked without turning around. "Or should I call you Sam?" He said that in as neutral a voice as he could manage. When he finally did turn around he quickly added, "Sam it is then."

Sam was dressed in the one piece black leather jumpsuit that Jake had embossed with the Hillside logo. He slowly stepped out of the elevator and let the door close behind him.

"Actually Darg," Sam said somewhat timidly. "That's up to you. Steve told me that he explained a little about me. About my illness."

"He doesn't consider it an illness," Darg interrupted gently. "He said you have a split personality. He said that half of you is as feminine as any woman... If it matters I forgive you for deceiving me that way. It's not like you hadn't warned me that there could be nothing between us."

"True Samantha did her best to ensure that the friendship we began to form would remain a chaste one," Sam said. "But it still wasn't exactly fair. Would it offend you if she wished you a fond fair well?"

"No Sam, that wouldn't offend me," Darg replied. "In fact if you mean 'as Samantha', I'd likely be less uncomfortable than I am talking to the appearance of your male self."
"If you really mean that," Sam asked with a radiantly hopeful expression. "Would you mind turning around for a minute?"

Darg knew when her transformation was complete. His acute sense of smell told him that there was an aroused woman behind him. Even now that he knew something of the biomorphic device that provided the illusion of Samantha's womanhood, He found it hard to think of her as anything else.

As he turned around he knew that Samantha would see his body's reaction. Samantha smiled slightly.

"Are you sure your more comfortable this way?" she asked.

"It seams nothing has changed," Darg replied. "I find I desire what I can not have. As do you, unless that cloaking device lies about that too."

"No Darg," Samantha explained. "It's designed to take clues from my real physical and emotional condition about things like that. Though there is a command override. I could prevent the physical evidence of my desire from being generated."

"No, I'd just as soon be aware of the effect I'm having on you," Darg replied. "I just have to remember to think of you as my sister. Which isn't easy. As you know I'll be leaving for LosLand in a few minutes. I'm not sure if I'll be back. But truthfully I hope this isn't the last time we see each other. Can I get a farewell hug from my sister?"

As Darg asked this, the elevator door opened. Steve, Sandra, and Al stepped into the portal chamber. It was three minutes later that Steve tactfully cleared his throat and they brought their embrace to an end.

"Have you decided whether or not you'll take my advice and start at Twin Falls Darg?" Steve inquired.

"I'm not convince that they will follow my lead," Darg replied. "But I agree that the Gray Hills only provided them temporary protection from the ravages of those monsters. If they just sit and wait for trouble to come to them, they will soon find that they won't be able to trade for many of the things they need. So I will try to convince them to step up and become part of the rebuilding process. Either way however, I will need to work closely with the Brethren. For unless they reach out with the resources of their shipping empire to move goods in and out of the scattered remnants of the Midlander villages... Yes I have much to do."

Steve produced a small pouch and held it out to Darg.

"The seal ring in this bag will go a long ways towards convincing the current lords of Twin Falls," Steve began. "That they should at least listen to your advice. There are also documents that will establish your birthright to join the council of the Brethren. That is, once you have a ship under your command. There is also enough semiprecious gemstones to commission the building of such a vessel." Then noticing Darg's hesitance Steve added, "These aren't gifts Darg, they have always been yours, I merely held them in trust until you had need of them."

"No, it's not that," Darg said with a shake of his head. "I'm just still trying to adjust to the idea of going to sea at all. Never mind commanding a ship, I'm a woodsman you know."

"True enough," Steve allowed. "But that very skill set will be sorely needed. How better to convince the council of the need to rebuild the midland infrastructure than by volunteering to spearhead the trading forays up the rivers and across the lakes. Getting those riverboats upstream is going to take a bit of work, now that the network of rope-pull gangs have been so badly depleted. But with your Lander skill set, you know how to survive extracting a yearling out of a woolbeast heard."

A deeply puzzled look crossed Darg's face.

"And just how do you expect that to help?" he protested. "I mean sure, the yearlings can be trained to pull the ropes. But we would need more of them than the herds have to spare to replace all the rope-pull teams."

"Ah but that's the beauty of it," Steve said with a grin. "With a little bit of science applied to a new riverboat design and a firm hand with the training of those woolbeasts. You should be able to use just two woolbeasts to replace the oarsman." As he spoke the main display screen came to life. With a series of drawings of a riverboat with a pair of large paddle wheels and of woolbeasts walking inside huge barrel shaped treadmills. "If you'll let Sam show you how to look inside that crystal portal link disk I gave you, you'll find a lot of useful stuff including the details on how to build this beast powered riverboat. The average weight and hill climbing stamina of the woolbeasts should yield enough thrust to power such a boat against the current of better than 95 percent of the navigable rivers. And I think you can round up enough of the brutes to serve as rope-pull teams for most of the other 5 percent.

Of course there are a few places where you'll need to establish a wagon based portage relay past some waterfall or serious whitewater. But when you look close at the design of this tub you'll note that it's constructed in such a way as to make it practical to pre-build it in many small sections that can be assembled upstream of a portage leg without needing a full fledged boatyard."

Darg shook his head.

"Your talking about a lot of work old man," Darg said.

"Yes Darg, a lot of work that they won't be able to pull off without you," Steve asserted. "I mean if you weren't going to do this, I couldn't save LosLand's civilization without giving them fuel burning machines. And believe me the longer LosLand can get by without becoming dependent on that kind of technology the better."

Darg nodded.

"Yes, Sandra showed me some of this world's history with such machines," he said. "If there's the slightest chance we can avoid ruining our wilderness that way, it'll be worth the effort. I'll ask Samantha to show me how to see inside my disk... I don't know how to thank you for all the work you've put into this. Especially now that you must be worried about your apprentice. Frankly I'm surprised that you haven't yet chased off after him."

A dark frown passed over Steve's face.

"Yes, I'm worried," he admitted. "But really there is nothing to be gained from my trying to follow him. If he found the way to do what he set out to do, it's already done. If he didn't, it's already too late. If the process cost his life, then he is already gone. If he lived, well then word can reach me here as easily as anywhere else. Besides, since my best guess is that he did succeed, I do expect that I'll be summoned to appear before the guild council within a day or so. And I've a few things I need to get done here before then. Speaking of which, I'm afraid I've spent as much time as I can with you. Sandra, Al, and ah Samantha, will see you off. Farewell Darg, my thoughts will oft be with you."

With that said, Steve abruptly turned and walked out of the portal chamber.

***

Cindy's voice was without feeling as she answered Steve.

"You think that he might have succeeded and that he may still be alive," she repeated. "Both are possible but I am only certain of the former. In that he would not have allowed himself to fail, regardless of the cost to himself."

Then she returned her full attention to her combat simulation workout. Steve watched her proficiently destroy several attackers before he shook his head and extracted himself from the VR simulator she was using. Then he reexamined the biofeedback settings that simulated the physical exercise her body should be getting. He considered for a moment overriding her settings in favor of a gentler setting but he settled for increasing the sensitivity of the bioscanner and code locking the safety override circuits to at least minimize the potential for injury.

Steve returned to his office and retrieved a blue gemstone from a concealed safe. He then sat on the carpeted floor with his legs crossed and placed the gemstone on the floor in front of him. After a moment of quiet meditation, he began a rhythmic rocking motion as he concentrated his full attention on the stone. When he eventually looked up she was standing there.

"My mother never said what happened to the mindstone," Kernislarn said.

"No Pewanist wouldn't have," Steve replied. "Though it was her right to gift me with it."

"It is evident that she chose wisely," Kernislarn said with a sigh. "For you have never abused it's power, nor allowed others to sully it. And now when you finally find a use for it, it's for as worthy a cause as any we might have used it for."

Steve's expression darkened.

"Speaking of which," he began. "I can't over emphasize the danger to Wildernest should this fall into the hands of the guild council. They may not be evil in the same way as the old guild. But there has been some corruption. Brought about, I doubt not, by absolute belief in our own authority. And the majority wouldn't believe the harm the few corrupted ones would do.

Besides which, if my faith in Jake's ability is well founded, then it is likely that I will be brought under such scrutiny that I might be unable to keep it's existence a secret. It would perhaps be best if you took possession of the mindstone. And that I purge all links to Wildernest's coordinates from Hillside's systems. But you should also know that I fear for the mind of the woman, Cindy. Who you accepted into your sisterhood. It isn't likely that she will recover without your guidance. But as she is now, I think it unlikely that she will choose to accept your help. Yet if we sever all bonds, even I will have no way to contact you when she shows sign that she may be ready.

Lastly, you know I share your grief over your sister Stephanie. You don't need me to tell you of her final courage. But nonetheless, I need to say that she gave her life selflessly in an effort to save her friends and comrades. And I shall miss her for as long as I yet shall live."

"To be sure, Stephanie's story shall be added to the scrolls of true tellings," Kernislarn replied. "As indeed will Cindy's, whether or not she recovers. For her bravery was just as great and she faced far worse than the quick death of her sister. But as to the sacred mindstone, while I agree it would be best if you return it to the sisterhood, I shall ask that you do so by entrusting it's care to Cindy. Tell her that I charged her with it's safekeeping. Tell her also that I believe that it may eventually help her gain the skill to open passageways. Do not lie to her, but it would be best if you avoided mentioning that it will do so by helping her mind to heal. That is if, she possesses it long enough. And yes, I do think it would be best if you purge Wilderness from your machine's list of destinations.

Know that I remember your friend Jess and that there are several among the sisterhood who will morn his death. All of us shall grieve the manor of his passing. Know also that you will be in my thoughts and prayers for as long as I live. It matters not that you do not share my faith. Only that you know that I believe. And thus can take some comfort from the knowledge of my prayer. Now that I have spoken the wisdom of the chieftess of Wilderness, it is time I leave you. Fare thee well beloved of my mother."

"Farewell daughter of my heart," Steve replied.

Though he was unsure if she had heard him as her image faded from his mind. Steve thought it would be best if he discharged his obligation to Wilderness before he received any official summons to appear before the council So he picked up the gem stone and went looking for Cindy. He found her in the jacuzzi room. Upon sight of him she beckoned him over to where she was aggressively fondling both Erika Halloran and Linda Stockwell.

"I've got something for you Cindy," Steve said.

"I hope so," she replied. "You promised me something when you got back from your trip. And these two just agreed to get it on with me. I'm so randy right now, I intend to make all three of you keep your promises."

"Well I don't see why we can't work out something of the sort," Steve said. "But what I was talking about was an heirloom of your Wildernest sisterhood that Kernislarn bid me to give to you for safekeeping."

Cindy snorted.

"Not so fast Steve," She interjected. "I'm not going to let you distract me from the subject at hand, until after we have ourselves an orgy. But were going to have to go somewhere else or somebody's gonna get drowned."

"OK Cindy," Steve replied. "Your bed or mine?"

"Half the fun will be doing this in a public place Steve," Cindy replied. "Do you think we could get away with using the smoking lounge? I mean the action's gonna be smoking hot."

"Well maybe just this once Cindy," Steve agreed.

Three hours later Cindy's sexual appetite was finally satisfied. So Steve opened his navel and produced the blue gemstone he had secreted there for safe keeping. When he first undressed at the jacuzzi.

"I told you that Kernislarn asked me to give this to you," Steve said as he handed the stone to Cindy. "She also asked me to inform you that she said that as a Sister of Wildernest, you are hereby charged with the safekeeping of this sacred stone. Which will soon no longer be safe in my care. As due to the actions of my apprentice, I fully expect to be so closely scrutinized by the guild council as to render me unable to keep such secrets from them.

But since you are a member of Hillside, which no longer belongs to me, I won't have the authority to demand that you return it when they try to compel me to retrieve it for them. Kernislarn also said that if you use this gemstone to focus your thoughts it will eventually help you to master the art of opening passageways. She bids you to keep it on your person at all times until the day comes when you can open a passageway to Wildernest and return it to the sisterhood.

Which, incidentally will be the only way you can return to Wildernest. For I have had to purge Wildernest's location so thoroughly from Hillside records that not even I can recalculate the coordinates."

Mike was whistling 'Dixie', when he opened the sliding glass panel between the lounge and the bar and held out an antique looking telephone handset. Steve walked over to the opening and took the call. All he said was, "You rang..." Then he listened quietly for nearly five minutes.

While Steve was on the phone, Cindy looked through the open window into the bar where she could see a number of people including Sandra, Al and Sam. Who waved at her and gestured towards the bar's TV. She could only see part of the big screen, but it was enough to know that it was displaying a high resolution image of the couch she was sitting on. Evidently her desire to have that orgy in public had been thoroughly fulfilled. Then she realized that she didn't really care one way or the other about that anymore.

"I will depart within the hour," Steve said into the phone. Then with a wry grin he added, "For you that means approximately two and a half subcycles." Then Steve handed the handset back to Mike and looked Cindy in the eyes. "It looks like I placed that stone in your care in the nick of time. I've just been summoned to appear before the guild council."

In actuality it was just 45 minutes after he acknowledged the summons that Steve's personal shuttle passed through the portalizer. He really didn't have far to go to reach the designated rendezvous point. He quietly mused that he had chosen well all those years ago when he decided just which obscure corner of the universe to build Hillside. Even now, the council finds it difficult to get in or out of it's sidereality. Not impossible but difficult enough that the council's designated transport was waiting for him here, instead of having made all the sidereal transitions necessary to reach Hillside itself.

The fact that the transport vessel was in fact already sitting there in a parking orbit waiting for him. didn't bode well for the mood of the council. Normally, he would have been expected to park in the council summons designated pickup point and wait for it's next pass. Which wouldn't normally occur until he had first been observed to be waiting. The fact that they weren't bothering to engineer things in such a way as to insure that he had to wait for them. Could only mean the council itself was in considerable turmoil.

***

The Captain shook his head and said nothing for a long moment. Jake patently waited. This was the first time the Captain had visited him in his new 'cell'. Which was nothing less than an entire habitation ring. It still quartered a substantial number of crew. All of whom had been designated as auxiliary guards. Who had all cheerfully accepted the awkward procedures they now needed to follow in order to enter or exit the ring.

Jake had had some other guests while he was waiting for the Captain to come by. He had even been allowed some certified privacy for these meetings. Which, under the circumstances, so impressed his guests as to make the negotiations easier. Of course Jake mused, there was still considerable risk that they wouldn't hold up their end of the bargain. He had to hope that the Captain had selected his guests well.

Finally the Captain spoke.

"It is well that I granted your request prior to transmitting my report to the council," he said. "For I have received instruction to suspend all normal transport functions and bring you to stand before them immediately."

"I'm not surprised at that," Jake replied. "Considering the contents of your report. Did they also insist that you return me to the official brig?"

The Captain shrugged.

"I do believe they think they did," the captain explained. "But they actually required me to place you in the most secure confinement I've got. And given your abilities, I calculate that the most secure confinement I can place you under is your own word bond that you won't try to escape. But if you don't mind, just before we reach your destination, I will need to place you in a maximum security protocol confinement field."

Now Jake shook his head.

"No, I do not mind," Jake admitted. "I half expected you to do that now. It would look better after all if there wasn't any record of my being left virtually unguarded, during the long years of relative time. In fact, I think I'd recommend that you do so at least while your crew is in hypersleep."

Jake's voice trailed off as he noticed a strange expression cross the captain's face. The silence remained unbroken for several subcyclets while the two men stared silently at each other.

"Is there something wrong captain?" Jake finally asked.

The captain laughed without mirth.

"Wrong? What could possibly be wrong?" he asked both sarcastically and evidently rhetorically, as he continued without pause. "I do hope you like music Jake." Then the captain sighed and continued. "You did tell me that you brought much sorrow and pain. But in fact you have brought me even more of both than you knew.

My crew have discussed amongst themselves what happened to Jess and they hold you blameless. They feel that Jess died with honor. They have also discussed the nature of your own terrible deed. They decided it was something that needed doing and as such they commend you for it. Finally they discussed the nature of the favor you asked of me and they reason that you have chosen a brave and honorable course. Thus they have named you a friend of the Nearkin and accordingly have decided to present you with an honor guard all the way to your destination."

The captain fell silent again while the full meaning of his words sunk in. It didn't take long for Jake to understand.

"Surely you can't allow them to do..." he began to protest until the Captain silenced him with an angry glare.

"I tried to forbid it," the Captain lamented. "And for the first time since the Resonance was commissioned, my crew threatened me with mutiny... No, we shall not want for company on this trip Jake. It was all I could do to convince them that only a small percentage of them need to remain awake at any given time. But even so, several generations will now spend their entire lives in this way, before we reach your destination."

It took Jake nearly three subcyclets to find the words.

"Then since what I've read in Steve's files on your Nearkin," Jake explained. "Leads me to believe that they will persist in this no matter how strongly I protest. I can only honor their willing though unnecessary sacrifice by humbly accepting it. Which I'm both happy and sad to do. Though I protest that I'm not worthy of it..."

The captain held up his hand.

"Speaking of which," The Captain explained. "This means that much of this journey will entail the grievous duty of presiding over the memorial and consignment ceremonies for those crewman who pass. Normally there is but one consignment ceremony per voyage. But under these circumstances. There will be more of them than I can bear to number. Would you also honor them by sharing that duty with me?"

Jake nodded.

"In fact, I'd insist on it," Jake said.

The Captain nodded back.

"I thought you'd prove to be made of command grade stuff," the Captain allowed. "The duty won't of course be pleasant and I warn you, neither will I be in a mood suitable for polite conversation on such occasions. Be that as it may, in recognition of the emotional sacrifice you have just pledged to and at the unanimous request of my crew. I hereby bestow the honorary rank of commander upon you."

As the Captain said that, he produced a small metallic decal bearing a surprisingly detailed, yet surreal image of a spoked ships wheel surrounded by a series of stone rings. Which was reminiscent of the view of the command platform as seen from the captains chair.

"By accepting this badge of your new rank," the Captain continued. "You give your word bond to keep all your dealings with and/or on behalf of the Resonance both truthful and honorable for so long as you may live. Do you accept the terms and conditions of rank?"

Jake was so surprised by the Captains sudden presentation that for a moment he was speechless but he quickly recovered his composure. Suddenly Jake snapped to the formal posture normally associated with a military stance of attention.

"Yes sir!" he replied. You have my word bond on that from this moment until the very end of my days.

As he said this, Jake briefly touched his forehead with his right thumb in imitation of the casual form of salute he'd noticed was practiced by the crew of the Resonance. He was rewarded for his effort by a chorus of laughter from the virtual crowd of Nearkin that had quietly assembled while the captain was talking to him. At the same moment, the Captain placed the decal on Jake's left shoulder and returned the salute by placing his left thumb against the side of his head. Immediately the laughter turned into a cheer.

"You will note 'Commander'," the Captain said. "That the proper form of salute as performed by an 'officer' of the Resonance is with his left thumb."

Chapter 38 The High Council

Questor was quickly escorted to a first class officer's cabin on the nameless military personnel transport. Since he wasn't technically classified as a prisoner, he was free to wander at will to any place on the ship he wanted with the only exception of the control room. However, no mater where he went, the moment he left his cabin he was escorted by two guards who, when asked, claimed they were there for his protection. His guards, like the pilot, were low echelon questors. Who could endure the long years of subjective time, without retreating to stasis or hibernation chambers.

He was afforded every courtesy except conversation. The pilot never left the control room where he wasn't allowed to go. He could talk to anyone else on board, whenever they were awake and of course to his guards whenever he wanted. Yet none of them would answer any but the most trivial of questions and none of them chose to engage in pleasant small talk with him.

"This promises to be a long voyage," he said to nobody in particular.

In actuality it was less than half the subjective time that he had spent en route to see the professor. Though having some long term company and yet nobody to talk with, made it seem far longer. Eventually however, they reached their destination. Questor knew Location-null wasn't much to look at. Nonetheless, by the time they dropped into realtime he was so board that he actually bothered to walk to the observation deck to look at it.

The star system didn't have any surviving planets. What it did have was 3 separate asteroid belts that were all that was left of the planets that used to orbit the star. Nobody had ever determined what calamity had reduced all three planets to rubble and nobody much cared. All that had mattered was that some of the asteroids were relatively rich in minerals and certain hard to synthesize crystals. Which had just enough value to make a mining operation viable. Asteroid mining was a lifestyle that tended to attract only ruffians, hermits and those troubled souls who just couldn't function in polite society. There wasn't anything to attract tourists. In short it was a perfect place to hide a secret installation.

The actual location of Location-null was one of the best kept secrets in the whole guild system. In fact even most questors were unsure of it's exact location. Those who knew, had all been sworn to absolute secrecy. For the guild still had powerful enemies who would stop at nothing to get leverage on the council. They wouldn't hesitate to try to get to them by attacking their loved ones. Though in order to attack the council members or their loved ones, an enemy first had to find them. So they lived in a small armored fortress concealed inside one of the asteroids.

Great care was taken by VIP transports such as the one he was in that they stopped harvesting particles long before entering the system. Not that it was easy to follow the path of such a craft by the temporary trail left by the absence of particles in it's wake but the closer such a particle void came to a star, the more obvious it was against the normally high particle content of the star's 'solar wind'. Thus a VIP transport relied on it's energy reserves and used only it's gravitational-optimizer to effect all maneuvers. Thus it avoided leaving even a minuscule particle signature trail from it's particle-transduction-thrusters.

The larger long range transport ships that occasionally arrived here didn't have to be so careful, because they were presumably only delivering supplies to the miners and loading up on crystals. This ship, however, wasted no time as it docked with the asteroid in which Location-null was concealed. The "mining" installation was a roughly cylindrical ore processing facility. It was equipped with maneuvering thrusters that did an adequate job of slowly altering the asteroids position in the asteroid belts as the miners plundered one asteroid after another. They also served to maintain an artificially stable spin along the long axis that was sufficient to provide a simulated gravity force of 82% galactic standard gravity, at the outer level. Where the crew's habitation chambers were.

At each end there was a special docking hub that could be counter rotated to neutralize the asteroid's spin. Normally anyone boarding or disembarking from the habitat would transfer, in a state of free fall, through the central corridor. From which there were nearly vertical shafts that gradually changed from a ladder to a ramp way leading to the innermost deck layer where the the simulated gravity was only 30% galactic standard. The central corridor itself also served as a virtual conveyor for streams of crystal rich ore that were fed into the central ore processing equipment. Which extracted the crystals and reduced the slag to subatomic particles. Which in turn were used as an auxiliary power source for the facility.

However for the class one military stealth ships that the guild didn't want seen, there was a different procedure. Almost immediately the entire docking platform was retracted into the concealed cave while a fully functional decoy docking platform slid into place. It took less than a cyclet for all evidence of the ships arrival to disappear. Once the positions of the two docking platforms had been exchanged the one attached to the ship moved "down" a shaft towards the inner deck surface. Where a concealed mechanism shifted the alignment of the ship's airlock to match a normally concealed docking collar. The walking surfaces inside this collar and the floor of the corridor it connected to were equipped with limited range simulated gravity emitters which brought the simulated gravitational force up to one galactic standard gravity. The moment the docking platform stopped moving, a loud voice suddenly screeched from immediately behind Questor.

"You know of course comrade," the voice articulated. "That the observation deck's view screens were only left operational as a sign of my esteem for you."

Questor hadn't sensed his approach but he hadn't really been surprised. It seemed that Questor was to be accorded the honor of being escorted to the council chamber by 'the Admiral' himself.

"It's been a long time old friend," he replied.

Then he turned around to see a hairless man of slight build, with skin that was such a dark shade of blue that it looked closer to pure black. He was dressed in a brightly colored red and blue silk garment that resembled a loose fitting, short, sleeveless tunic of a deceptively simple design. Questor was well aware, that concealed within the sash, edge trim and collar, the Admiral would have several deadly weapons. Some of which would even be capable of terminating a questor. The Admiral gestured toward the airlock and they disembarked together.

The Admiral had been one of the first questors to receive nanites with the "improved" internal code that was theoretically designed to reduce the chances of a questor becoming a power mad rogue megalomaniac. The Admiral had soon discovered that he preferred the military lifestyle to that of a wealthy merchant. Eventually he became the commander and chief of the 'Fleet'.

His authority was subject only to the will of the council. While like all questors he isn't identified by a personal name, in a manor similar to 'the Captain' of the Resonance, the functional title of 'the Admiral' has become a label generally used to refer to him by the entire guild.

There was little conversation as the Admiral escorted him trough a maze of passageways but when it came to the Admiral, the lack of conversation didn't irk Questor the way it had with his deliberately uncommunicative escorts on the long voyage. The Admiral's solemn silence was actually an informal show of respect. Which was obviously not lost on any of the personnel they passed along the way. Questor knew that the maze of passageways you had to negotiate to get to the entrance to the central ore processing facility that powered the habitat, were deliberately indirect.

They were designed to prevent any transient visitors to the habitat from discovering just how disproportionally large the processor complex was. A fact that most visitors to Location-null wouldn't ever have an opportunity to notice because normally, with the exception of questors, visitors were placed in stasis so that they could survive the inverse temporal dilation aboard the transport ship. Then when they woke up they would find that their stasis pods had already been relocated to the inner council complex. Likewise, they would be placed back in stasis before they left Location-null. Which is why few outside the residents of the asteroid were aware that it was concealed within an ore processing facility. Indeed, only a small percentage of the residents of Location-null itself, actually knew where they were.

The solemn silence continued until they eventually entered an airlock like decontamination chamber. Which was marked with radiation hazard symbols. Then while the system scanned them, the Admiral subvocalized. Just loud enough for Questor's enhanced hearing.

"It will sadden me if I am called upon to inflict any harm upon you old friend," was all he said.

Questor simply nodded in acknowledgment. He knew that any display of emotion would make the Admiral uncomfortable. Then just before the inner door cycled open The Admiral screeched in his usual abrasive voice.

"I'm sorry old friend," he said. "But I'm afraid this is the will of the Council."

As he said this, the Admiral produced a neuro-restraint device. That was designed to, among other things, reduce the operational mode of a nanosymbiont to a restrained sub-sentient mode. Then the Admiral gently placed the device against Questor's forehead.

"Me to!" Questor replied.

Then as the device began to activate, it suddenly short circuited. As did every single security circuit within the entire complex. Questor remained motionless as the Admiral assumed a combat pose.

"Please ask the council," Questor requested. "If they have forgotten why we rebelled against the will of the old guild in the first place? While your at it, remind them that my nanites operate under the terms of the original nanosymbiotic pact. Which means that my symbiont is not obligated to let the council shut it down at will. In fact by ordering you to impose that particular aspect of the neuro-restraints capability the council has just committed a prime violation of said original nanosymbiotic pact. In response to which my nanosymbiont hereby makes formal complaint and charges the councilor's own nanites to ensure that no further such offenses be committed under penalty of the nanosymbiotic deresolution clause. Which remains common to both the original nanosymbiotic pact and the modified rules of nanosymbiotic conduct embedded in the more recent nanite strains such as yours Admiral.

In addition, I, my host-mind, charge that doing this to any questor without first finding him guilty of violating his oath in a full court hearing at which he had an opportunity to address any such charges, was in fact a violation of the basic tenets under which I swore my original oath of membership in the new guild. I further state that it is my contention that their violation of those tenets does in fact free me from those aspects of said membership oath, regarding direct obedience to the will of the council. Nonetheless, I hereby re-certify and re-embrace all other aspects of that oath."

At this point the Admiral, who had been poised to launch a lethal attack upon his former comrade at arms, relaxed slightly.

"However, you can also inform them," Questor continued. "That upon receipt of acknowledgment from the councilor's nanosymbionts. That they are now exercising due diligence to prevent any future violations of the nanosymbiotic pact. I will ask my nanosymbiont to stand down and submit to any restraints, except only the forced shutdown of it's networked nanosymbiotic functions. For I welcome the opportunity to answer any such charges of improper conduct on the council floor."

The Admiral laughed briefly, before he replied.

"I had almost forgotten how formidable an opponent you have always been Questor," the Admiral screeched. "But there is no need for me to ask nor remind the council of any those things. For by now they have reviewed the surveillance records of your outburst. We only need to wait and no doubt the council will make it's will known to us. While we wait, would you mind telling me when you deployed your nanites. So that they were able to so quickly infiltrate so many hardened security systems?" Questor nodded.

"Certainly Admiral," he said. "But first let me tell you why I arrived prepared for such an event. As you no doubt are aware I recently acquired a direct apprentice. It was one of those rare events where I spent some of my personal nanites to heal a terminally injured man to whom I owed a debt of honor. I had not expected my nanites to find him an acceptable candidate for bonding. So I hadn't prescreened him. Nor had I extracted the standard membership pre-agreement from him.

As of my receipt of the council's summons he has not yet chosen to join. What you may not know, is that there have been some events that appear designed to coerce him into doing so. In order to protect his woman from attack. In fact one such event led to the discovery that someone has actually provided some whiffer beast's handler with questor grade nanites. Said handler attacked my apprentice's woman. And later tried to abduct a research employee of mine. So when I was summoned to the council I expected that someone would try to coerce me into doing something dishonorable. To ensure that my apprentice would be forced to actually join the guild." Questor paused long enough for the implications to sink in. "As to when did I deploy my nanites. They were deployed just before my personal shuttle was stored aboard the transport that brought me here. By the time the transport docked with this station, there were nearly 2 lifts of them coating it's outer hull."

When Questor stopped talking, they waited in silence for 3 subcyclets before an intercom speaker clicked on.

"The Council has listened to your confession regarding this breach of our security systems Questor," a melodious voice said. "We have concluded that what you reported was possible. You may rest assured that our outer security will not be so easily breached in the future. However we also concluded that you have omitted some important details. How is it that your nanites were not detected by our access scans when you entered the decontamination chamber? Also, how did they infiltrate the inner facility when we have yet to unseal it?"

"There is a simple explanation for that councilman," Questor replied with a smile. "It is 1st councilor who is asking is it not?"

"Of course it is," the melodious voice said, after a slight pause. "Now kindly answer my questions."

"Very well councilor," Questor explained. "It is for the same reason that my former comrade at arms did not detect them. The infiltrating nanites didn't enter the chamber with me. In fact, by the time I disembarked from the transport ship, they were already waiting at the access door for an opportunity to enter. Perhaps a stasis chamber containing some other guest of the council was transported inside while the Admiral and I were walking the convoluted maze of passageways.

Might I suggest a double blind process with nested isolation chambers. So that you can shut down the stasis field generator and deep scan everything prior to unsealing the inner isolation chamber, might be a little more effective."

The expression on the Admiral's face, as he stood next to the open access hatch of the nano-fortified portable security isolation chamber, was enough to give Questor a slight twinge of regret for having put one over on him. The Admiral had lost considerable 'face'. Because of his failure to detect Questor's infiltration of Location-null's security systems. Yet he obviously still felt like he was dishonoring his former comrade in arms, by asking him to step into the containment device. At least it was obvious to Questor. Few were those who could read the emotions on the Admirals nearly impassive face but after spending a thousand realtime years in close association as a covert combat team on several missions to seek and destroy cybernoid agents, Questor was one of those few.

Questor's nanosymbiont signaled his now massive external reserves of nanites to reform. Specifically to dig in and reform themselves into salvageable personalized nano-material. So that they wouldn't become completely inert scrap when the isolation chambers containment field blocked the resonant waves of communication, that normally linked them to the ones inside Questor's body. Then Questor stepped into the chamber. As he did so, he quietly but emphatically, apologized for deceiving his former comrade

"I'm sorry old friend," was all he needed to say.

"Why?" the Admiral asked, just before he activated the isolation chamber. "You made an effective tactical decision. In your place I might have done something similar."

Then Questor's symbiont suddenly recoiled within Questor's mind. It had known what it would be like to be cut off from all external data sources. Yet in a manor similar to a man who knows his optic nerve is going to be severed will still recoil in horror when his vision suddenly fails, the symbiont was now in a state of torment. Yet it refused to go off line. There was still a slight chance that it might be able to be of some small assistance to it's host-mind.

The inner shell of the isolation chamber remained opaque until after it had been moved to the council chamber. When external light again reached Questor's eyes, he could see the Admiral standing in front of him. The Admiral reached out and touched another control stud and the sonic damper field switched off. Now Questor could hear the sounds within the council chamber. Which appeared to be a nearly featureless circular room with gray walls. The walls merged seamlessly with a gray domed ceiling. The Admiral turned on his heals and spoke to the empty room.

"The subject is now ready to be interviewed," he screeched before falling silent.

The Admiral assumed a sentry like pose beside the isolation chamber. It took less than a subcyclet for 5 blue robed figures to begin entering the council chamber. Except for the oversized hoods that partially obscured their faces and the pastel shade of blue, the robes worn by the councilors greatly resembled the formal togas worn by senators in ancient Rome. The hooded figures formed an evenly spaced circle near the walls. Then without anything outwardly resembling a signal, the five councilors moved in unison as if they were about to sit on the thin air behind them. It is likely that if their chairs had failed to automatically unfold from the wall, at least some of them would have landed in an undignified pose on the floor.

Even as the council's chairs positioned themselves for the councilor's comfort. Tables began to slowly rise from the floor and unfolded in front of each councilor. Finally one of them spoke.

"You have been summoned before the council to provide answers to our concerns about your recent apprentice," he said.

There was no hesitation. Nothing disturbed the smooth flow of words but even as the one that Questor knew to be called '1st' finished speaking, the second councilor began speaking in a less melodious voice with a slight nasal quality to it.

"It has come to our attention that your apprentice has failed to actually join the guild," the 2nd councilor said.

Then a 3rd voice continued, also without pause. This one sounded a bit like a kindly old lady. Yet this image wasn't supported by her words.

"You should not have allowed him to develop into an unrestrained and dangerously strong individual," she said.

Again without pause, the 4th councilor spoke in a deep resonant monotone.

"We were already concerned about this over 90 real time overcycles ago," he said. "But out of respect for your past accomplishments we waited until your apprentice took it upon himself to commit an omega class offense."

Then the gravelly voiced 5th councilor continued.

"We would know how this came to be," he demanded. "Explain yourself Questor."

With that the council fell silent. It was time for Questor to speak.

"I can explain myself easily enough," he began. "But unless I'm greatly mistaken, what the council really wants, is that I explain my apprentice. Which is something more appropriately asked of him. Nonetheless, if the council will allow me to explain what I can in my own fashion. I will endeavor to explain something about my apprentice.

However, my knowledge of certain things is somewhat limited, so I reserve the right to speak with a degree of discretion." At this point the 1st councilor spoke abruptly.

"Questor will leave discretion in the hands of the council!" 1st exclaimed. Questor delayed his response for a subcyclet. In case the other councilors intended to add to 1st's words.

"I remind the council that due to the attempt to force my symbiont to shut down," Questor said when it was evident that 2nd had chosen to allow his turn to speak be used by Questor's reply. "Your ability to so command me is somewhat diminished." Then the 3rd councilor made a suggestion.

"Perhaps the council should listen to Questor's report before we determine it's acceptability," she said. There was the slightest pause before the 4th councilor spoke.

"4th agrees with 3rd's suggestion," he said. There was no delay as 5th smoothly added his words to 4th's.

"Speak as you will Questor," 5th said. "We will reserve judgment for later."

"First then, to explain myself," Questor began. "I did not seek to find an apprentice in the man who became one. I merely sought to save the life of a man to whom I owed a debt of honor. Due to the fact that he was mortally wounded while trying to save my life. There was insufficient time to secure any 'class A' medical nanites, so I tasked some of my own.

I was completely surprised when they chose to accept him as a candidate. Thus it was that he became one without first having been subjected to the terms of a pre-agreement to join the guild. My ability to promote that he should make such a choice was further hampered by certain circumstances that the guild council should not have allowed to happen. Such as at least two abduction attempts on people close to him using whiffer beasts with guild nano-enhancements."

"Attempts you say?" 1st interrupted. "Surely no whiffer beast's handler would try such a thing in the presence of a questor or even his apprentice. So how is it that you describe these abductions as attempts? Whiffer beasts are not known to be easily foiled."

"No! they are not," Questor replied without waiting to see if 2nd was willing to again yield his turn to speak. "But what the handler of these whiffer beasts failed to take into account is just how effective a well trained team of augmented defenders can be. Which is in fact how I can be sure of the quality of the nano-enhancement. For when the team I trained and augmented managed to capture one of the whiffer beasts. It's internal nanites were able to defend it against nano-interrogation long enough for it's handler to remotely trigger a destruct circuit."

"I find this information most disturbing Questor," 2nd spoke up.

"But tell us," 3rd inquired. "Just where were you when these alleged incidents occurred?"

Questor sighed, then since 3rd was evidently waiting to hear his response, he replied.

"I had made the mistake of thinking I could safely pursue an element of my personal quest," he said. "While my team watched over the early stages of my apprentices development. I fear I misjudged the threat my apprentice would be under and evidently the speed with which he would develop."

"That brings us to the question," 4th pointed out. "How would you explain your apprentice to us?"

Questor shook his head. Then since 5th wasn't choosing to speak, he replied.

"There is only so much I can explain," Questor said. "But first you should know that when a transdimensional experiment of mine went wrong. I literally fell to the ground in front of a manually controlled vehicle that he was operating under severe weather conditions. He had no way of knowing that I would survive being hit by his vehicle. Without hesitation he put himself at risk to avoid hitting me. He did miss me but in doing so he crashed into a tree. He was grievously injured and there was little time to return the favor and save his life.

You should be aware that his planetary culture has little more than theoretical knowledge of even the crudest of nanites. So when he first found out about the fact that some nanites had irreversibly decided to inhabit his body, he was alarmed and indeed even frightened. I should perhaps have realized he would develop more quickly than most. When at a very early stage, he actively sought help in preventing his nanites from imposing his subconscious desires upon those around him. But as I already told you, I made the mistake of thinking I could safely investigate something off world.

When I returned, I found that he had left a detailed report concerning a narrow window of opportunity to prevent a particularly unpleasant calamity from befalling the entire galaxy. I have reviewed his data and have to agree that if the aggressive race in question had had time to initialize their plan for expansion via conquest, even the combined resources of the guild fleet and every Questor currently in existence would have been unable to prevent a terrible fate from befalling billions of inhabited worlds. He understood that there wasn't any time to spare and thus he left in a constructor ship on a temporally inverted voyage of interdiction. For a more detailed explanation of my apprentice I'm afraid you will need to ask him. That is, if he survived the task he appointed himself to."

"Why then did you not alert the council when you first received that report?" 5th demanded.

Questor's shoulders sagged slightly.

"Because it was by then already far to late, he explained. "If his symbiont or his ship's semi-symbiont AI computer hadn't developed enough to shield him from the temporal fugue, then it was too late to save him. If it had, then he had already accomplished his terrible mission. So instead I spent a little time to repair some of the damage that his first encounter with these creatures had had upon some of the the people I cared about at Hillside."

"The council has heard enough of this Questor," 1st interrupted.

"We will judge the nature of your report later," 2nd added.

"You will be sequestered pending further investigation into your actions," 3rd continued.

"I hope, for your sake," 4th commented. "That we decide you have acted within the bounds of your oath."

"That is all!" 5th closed the session. "Take the prisoner away Admiral, then escort the new arrival..."

That was all Questor heard before the sonic suppression field reinitialized as the isolation chamber once again became fully opaque.

"There is a good chance that Jake is the new arrival, don't you think?" he asked his symbiont.

"That is not certain," the symbiont replied inside his brain. "I compute only a 40% probability that your assumption is correct."

"That is enough to kindle hope," replied it's host-mind. "In any case I'm glad I've done what I could. To ensure that they don't attempt to punish him for violating an oath he has yet to actually take."

His symbiont didn't actually reply. There was no need. It could see that it's host-mind was rationally considering the possibilities. Including the ill will within the council he had generated for his own circumstances. By insisting that the councilor's own nanites acknowledge responsibility to ensure that the terms of the original nanosymbiotic pact would be honored. Further conversation on the subject would only have been counterproductive.

Chapter 39 Audience

Times were changing thought captain Waymaker as he sat in the command chair of his new starship. As he went through the prelaunch checklist for the maiden voyage of the Avant-garde, his mind drifted back to the surprise visitor that had changed his life.

He remembered thinking it must be some kind of sick joke. He had just received a request for a personal meeting from the occupant of a state of the art guild vessel. 'What the hell would the guild want with me?' he had thought. 'If they thought my clandestine activities had strayed far enough from the terms of my Free Spacer License to warrant their attention. They would have simply pulled my entire ship out of normal space-time with a manipulator field from a passing guild warship. I'd never even have seen it coming'

Nonetheless, since his sensors showed him that a guild design star shuttle had suddenly appeared within docking range of his main airlock, Waymaker decided that he didn't know anyone with enough resources to pull off such a joke. So he had reflexively swallowed a mouthful of nothing and replied to the hail with permission to dock. While he waited for the guild vessel to dock and for his airlock to slowly cycle, Waymaker tried to think what business the guild could possibly have with him.

The Waymaker family business was one of the few that had managed to stay continuously viable. From within the first year of the day the Free Space Accord had been signed until today. They had nearly gone under many times. Though on each occasion to date, one or more of his ancestors had been able to turn things around again. Frequently by way of relocating the business to a different star cluster. Usually because the political situation in their former field of operations had become intolerable. This was no small feat in the business environment that had resulted from the slow decline of the accord's effectiveness.

A decline that many Freespacers blamed on a lack of support from the guild. Though a few Freespacers, like himself, had always pointed out that the guild had been responsible for creating the accord in the first place. Which was true enough, the guild had expressly designed the accord to, among other things, prevent any single entity from acquiring a total monopoly on interstellar shipping. They had agreed to fund a program ensuring the continued research, development and when applicable, the construction of starships that were not based on the inverse temporal dilation that the guild used.

They had hoped to get the majority of the governments involved to rule in their favor. The guild had wanted the ratification of the Free Space Accord so badly at the time, that they had even released the technical details of the majority of their interstellar technology. Making it possible for Governments and Free Spacer entities to use a form of the Guild's own stardrive for robotically operated long range ship carriers and their overall strategy had worked. The old council of interstellar civilizations did ratify the accord by a 97% majority vote. Of course, the guild had known what they were doing. The majority of the passengers who were willing to submit to the required long term stasis preferred to do so with a live pilot on board and no one could blame them.

The robotically operated ships were based on the stardrive of the old guild. They used the guild's inverse temporal dilation technology to generate a temporal wormhole. It allowed the starship to travel great distances almost instantaneously. With the trade off that everything traveling inside the wormhole would experience, all of the time it would otherwise have taken for a beam of light to travel the distance involved. The difference came into it because these wormholes were inherently somewhat unstable. It took an organic brain to sense when slight corrections to their trajectory might be needed to avoid drifting into the dangerous outer edges of the wormhole. Without such corrections, nearly 2% of such ships simply never made it to their destination. The losses were more like 5% on truly long range voyages. Whereas the loss rate of properly piloted ships was less than one in a trillion and the majority of those had been found to be the result of sabotage.

So the robot ships hadn't ever put much of a dent in the guild's dominance in long range space travel. Though for a while, the accord had stimulated serious competition in the so called short range market where the distances involved were generally less than 100 lightyears. Unfortunately, lacking a truly viable medium range alternative to temporal inversion, most of the Free Spacer entities had been relatively short lived niche markets that depended on the continued goodwill of the governments in their region of operations.

The Waymaker family business couldn't have remained viable for so long without relocating it's theater of operations on a regular basis. Now however, the current state of affairs wasn't very promising. It wasn't just a regional problem that they could escape by simply pulling up stakes and relocating while accepting the same risks as any new start up business. They just couldn't find anyplace worth relocating to. There didn't seem to be any government that thought of Free Spacers as a viable alternative to the guild anymore. Most of them seemed to think that their region's finite resources should only be used for government run space operations.

Captain Waymaker commanded the best of the remaining three operational fringe effect vessels that were still owned by the family business and the Victorious was in rough shape. Unless the business found a significant source of new revenue to pay for some needed maintenance it wasn't going to pass inspection. They would be ordered to junk her. True, they could then use some of her parts to bring the other two ships up to muster. In the long run however, they'd be better off if he could cannibalize the other two ships for the parts to refit the Victorious. Unfortunately until one of the ships was formally condemned, the banking system wouldn't let him scrap it and the Victorious was due for recertification nearly two galactic standard years before either of the others.

Waymaker's musings were interrupted when the Victorious's airlock finally creaked open and he got his first glimpse of his visitor. Waymaker was so shocked when he recognized his visitor as the well known 'Captain' of one of the more famous guild major transport vessels. That he had almost neglected to formally welcome him aboard the Victorious.

"Welcome aboard," Waymaker belatedly spat out. "To what do I owe the honor of such an esteemed visitor?"

"Thank you for taking the time to meet with me," the visitor said as soon as the airlock door closed behind him. "I've come to you to mediate a business proposition that would be in your best interest. But I'm afraid I do not have much time for all the formal procedures usually involved. I can only say that by my honor as a questor of the guild, I certify that the entity wishing to do business with you, is not directly affiliated with the guild. At least not yet. I also certify that he does in fact command the resources necessary to complete the deal described in the data pack I'm about to offer you.

However the offer is extremely time sensitive and I must have an answer almost immediately. So I need to ask if your willing to waive the normal formalities and allow me to use a guild data infuser to import the details directly into your cerebral cortex?"

Waymaker was stunned.

"You want me to... What could possibly make you think I'd agree to that?" he demanded.

"Because that's the only way you can understand the deal in time," the questor began. "Because contingent on acceptance of this deal, your prospective business partner has already fully funded the construction of a dozen brand new state of the art starships, each with nearly triple the payload capacity of your current ship. All twelve of the new ships will, at least temporarily, be equipped with certain fully licensed new non-guild technology that will upgrade them into actually viable medium range starships. If you accept the offer I'm authorized to seal the transfer of ownership of all 12 vessels to you immediately. Along with a short term, conditional license for the use of the new technology. A longer term license for the new technology would be contingent upon my client's acceptance as a member of the Free Spacer Alliance.

The ships themselves would remain yours even if the venture based on successfully sponsoring my client's membership request, fails. Though the continued use of the non-guild propitiatory technology that will enable the medium range functionality of these new ships, depends on his acceptance. Once my client is ratified as a member the Free Space Alliance will have a nonrevocable license to use the said technology, which permits a rapid form of subspatial flight without the associated risk of subspatial rift syndrome."

Waymaker was finding this hard to believe. If he hadn't heard his guest personally certify the validity on his honor as a questor, with his own ears, he wouldn't believe any of it. Nonetheless that was one pledge that no questor would dare misuse, so no matter how fantastic the explanation was, the questor himself must actually believe it and questors were not known to be easily deceived.

When Waymaker came to, the questor was leaning over him with what looked like a concerned expression on his face.

"Are you alright?" he asked. "I'm sorry, I should have at least made sure you were sitting down." Then with a pointed glance at a timekeeping device that no questor really needed, the captain of the Resonance continued. "But I'm afraid I've run out of time. Will you let me infuse the offer or not?"

"That depends," Waymaker said after he picked himself up off the deck plating. "Why me?"

"Because my files on you say your one of the best Free Spacers in the Galaxy," his visitor explained. "And that your integrity is such that your one of the very few free spacers that I'm willing, on behalf of my client, to accept your word bond as a binding contract."

"I find it hard to believe that your files on me could possibly be extensive enough for that," Waymaker suspiciously responded.

"Would it help," the questor asked with a slight grin. "If I told you I've been following the exploits of your family since I once met a man by the name of Gerald Uhlan."

Waymaker was flabbergasted.

"And there I was thinking nobody knew the former name of the old scoundrel who first assumed the Waymaker name," Waymaker acknowledged. "OK, I'll allow that anybody with records that deep, just might have a clue how good the word of a Waymaker is. So yes, I hereby waive the formalities but please be gentle."

***

"Attention, the final preflight checklist is complete," the surprisingly human like voice of the Avant-garde's AI announced. "Please acknowledge. Attention the final preflight checklist is complete."

"Notification Acknowledged," Waymaker belatedly responded. "Request launch clearance from departure control. Then, once approved, initiate the launch sequence."

No sooner had Captain Waymaker finished speaking then he felt a slight tremor run through the superstructure of the ship as the docking clamps that held it were released. He almost couldn't feel the slight thrust of the docking thrusters as they slowly moved the ship clear of the station but there was no mistaking the sound of the inertial compensators ramping up to full power as the main particle transduction thrusters came on line.

Waymaker was nervous. In less than three subcycles, he would be engaging the new subspatial insertion system and plunge deeply into subspace. On his way to a rendezvous in orbit around a worldless sun just 20 galactic standard lightyears from the Guild's Central Freight Station. He knew the new technology was supposed to make it safe but the very idea of deliberately crossing the line all the way into subspace was still hard to get used to. Though judging by the brief inspection he'd had time to make of the first of a dozen such ships, that were being built for his family business, he got the distinct impression that it was one of the best built ships he'd ever seen. He owed it to his benefactor to be part of the delegation of free spacers bringing suit against the guild. For interfering with their acquisition of permanent rights to use the only viable technology that could reasonably restore the Alliance's ability to compete with the guild.

The Avant-garde was one of seven nearly identical sister ships that had already been completed. One for each of the seven Free spacer entities that the Captain of the Resonance had made a deal with. The presiding member of each of which, had been transported to the Resonance for a personal meeting with their benefactor. The plan was to use the solar energy they could harvest in close solar orbit, to replenish the highly concentrated synthetic fuel that powered the new ships. Before going on to the Guild's nerve center to protest that they were illegally holding an alliance supplicant as a prisoner. While trying to coerce him into formally joining the guild. Which membership would preclude the Alliance from completing his ratification ceremony as a Free Spacer. Jake Peterson could become a member of either the Guild or the Free Spacer Alliance but the two possibilities were mutually exclusive. He could not join both and he had already petitioned the Alliance for membership.

To maintain optimal jump efficiency the Avant-garde's journey to the rendezvous required four subspatial jumps. Where they hoped to arrive with a 10% power reserve. There they would finalize the details of the confrontation with the guild.

While they spent some time refueling after their second jump. Captain Waymaker had decided to wait until the completion of the third jump to assess whether or not he needed to refuel again before continuing to the rendezvous point.

Each jump was essentially the same. They spent 2 cycles prepping the rift generators and calculating the precise jump vectors needed to arrive at the correct point in space in the correct sidereality. Then they spent another cycle generating a subspatial rift with the correct properties. Next, with a gut wrenching suddenness, they were in subspace with the subspatial thrust emulator clawing it's way to the subspatial pivot point for another cycle or two, depending on the distance involved. Then the thrust emulator would shut down, allowing subspace itself to spend up to another couple of cycles pushing them back into normal space. Whereupon the navigator would quickly verify their arrival coordinates. While the tactical officer deployed a prototype 'synthuel-drone' that would position itself into a special elliptic orbit around a nearby star allowing it to generate a tankful of synthuel that would be available to provide an instant refueling for some Free Spacer vessel at some point in the future. Then assuming they still had a minimum of 50% of their synthuel capacity remaining, they could immediately begin prepping the rift generators for the next jump.

It was at the third subspatial pivot point that the crystal disk which Jake Peterson had given to captain Waymaker began to glow. He had fitted the disk in a slight circular depression in the control panel of a specially licensed piece of non-guild technology that had been attached to the ships subspatial guidance system. It wasn't until they arrived at the third destination point that the signal was fully decoded. They had been fortunate up to this point with regard to the subspatial resistance factors involved in completing their second jump. So they still had nearly 55% of their maximum synthuel capacity. Captain Waymaker informed the navigator that he had decoded the signal.

"That signal has given me the coordinates we needed to institute plan B Galina," he said. "We will refuel at the rendezvous point. Please initialize the next jump vector calculations as soon as you can."

Galina Fialkovskii just nodded and went back to work.

***

"I am sorry Jake," said the Captain. "But I'm afraid the time has come for me to ask you to step into the isolation module. I've also been instructed to dump the isolation module into their cargo intake zone without taking the Resonance out of inversion. It's likely they don't want anyone wondering why the Resonance would have been parked here."

"There is no need to apologize Captain," Jake replied. "I understand that you are just as obligated to comply with their instruction. As Steve was to insure that none of the data I got from him included the location of the facility known as Location-null." Then as he stepped into the nano-secure isolation chamber, Jake added, "I guess I'm as ready as I'll ever be... Proceed Captain!"

Then all external input ceased. Jake was not even able to detect the transition to normal space time as the isolation module was placed in the mining operation's freight delivery zone. He patiently waited for the isolation module to be relocated to the council chamber. He could not detect the process in any way but based on the apparent passage of time, he was certain he must have been there for a considerable period before the isolation chamber's shell became transparent and the sonic vibration suppressor stopped blocking the sounds around him. He found himself in a domed chamber surrounded by five hooded figures.

"Greetings!" Jake said. "I presume that you must be the guild's council."

"You are to speak only when we require it of you," said one of the hooded figures in a melodious voice.

"Since I am not actually under any obligation to the guild..." Jake began to explain.

"Silence!" another of them interrupted him in a somewhat nasal voice.

Jake ignored him to finish explaining, "It's council has no jurisdiction over me."

Another robed figure responded with a female voice.

"You have committed several serious crimes," she informed him. "You would be wise to obey the council's instructions."

It was as he had expected. The council intended to treat him as a pre-convicted criminal. Which wouldn't have been appropriate until after he had had a chance to answer the charges. Even if he was under their jurisdiction.

"Do you really want me to tell you where to stuff that nonsense?" Jake asked with a very 'insubordinate' attitude.

"If the prisoner continues to disrespect the council," another councilor expounded in a resonant voice. "He will be squelched."

Jake decided that he didn't have any respect for the way the council was treating him. So he responded with a deliberately rude noise. At which point the last councilor spoke up gruffly.

"The prisoner shall now be squelched," he began. "The sonic inhibitors will no longer permit any sounds the prisoner makes from reaching the council until such a time as we seek input from the prisoner."

Jake decided he hadn't quite made his point, so he resorted to an extremely rude form of visual communication until the isolation chamber's shell suddenly became opaque. Then Jake smiled to himself. It was time to sit back and wait. He had insured that the council wouldn't communicate with him again for an extended period. Indeed, he calculated that they would now choose let him languish in isolation long enough for his plan to begin working.

While he waited he tried to imagine the look on Steve's face when he learned that his apprentice had actually mooned the guild council. The very thought of it was enough to make him laugh harder than he had in a long time.

The councilors were of course outraged by his rude display. In fact until their nanites had reminded them of the fact that the original nanosymbiotic pact obligated them to inform him of any and all charges and to listen to his defense. Before they could actually pass judgment upon him. They had begun to consider the possibility of sending his sealed isolation chamber into the event horizon of a black hole. They were decidedly unhappy with the idea that sooner or later they would have to allow this madman to speak before they could implement a suitable punishment. They spent many cycles debating what a suitable punishment for him should consist of.

In fact they were still debating it three overcycles later when a message drone arrived from their 'Central Freight Station' informing them that several subspace ships bearing Free Spacer identicodes had arrived at 'Central Freight' to bear suit against the guild. For illegally detaining their pledge, one Jake Peterson. Thereby defrauding the Alliance from acquiring an irrevocable license. To the only known viable medium range stardrive that wasn't dependent on temporal inversion. Which they claimed was a direct infringement of the 'Free Space Accord'. Because it prevents the only viable opportunity for Free Spacers to become able to actually compete with the guild.

"This is outrageous!" said 1st upon viewing the contents of the message drone.

"How could they possibly even know that he is our prisoner?" 2nd queried, somewhat rhetorically.

"In any case, they can't possibly prove that we have him," 3rd expounded on the concept. "Perhaps we should invite them to inspect the brig at Central Freight Station to see that he isn't there."

"They would of course, deduce that we could have him some place else," 4th added.

"But their claim is such that the burden of proof is theirs," 5th concluded. "Lets vote on it."

The vote was unanimous in favor of attempting the ruse. Yet no sooner had a message drone carrying their instructions been dispatched to Central Freight Station, than they were interrupted by an emergency signal from the outer system defense coordinator. He reported that a vessel with a Free Spacer identicode had just returned to normal space, within the local star system. The ship had arrived directly into an extremely close parking orbit around it's sun. His report further informed them that the free spacer ship was transmitting a message addressed to the council itself. Furthermore there could be no doubt that the exact location of Location-null had been thoroughly compromised. Because that transmission was being sent via shielded tight beam directly to the correct asteroid. Ignoring completely the more obvious habitat, recreation and trade complexes located within some of the more accessible asteroids.

"To the high council of the Cosmic Sailor's Guild," the transmission said. "From captain Waymaker of the Free Spacer Alliance ship, the Avant-garde. The purpose of this transmission is to notify you that the Avant-garde is here to accept the immediate transfer of our pledge, Jake Peterson. Who is a provisional subject of the Free Space Accord."

"There is no point in pretending we are not here," 1st said to the council. "But neither is there any need to respond before we have addressed the security breach that gave them our location."

"That much is certainly true," 2nd continued the discussion. "I suggest we interrogate the Questor about how his apprentice's associates could have obtained such sensitive information."

"We might also ask the Questor how it is that his apprentice has such little respect for the dignity of the council," 3rd added.

"Yes we should interrogate him on both issues immediately," 4th agreed. "Let us vote on it. I say yes."

"I suggest we amend the vote to include the distasteful prospect of interviewing the prisoner," 5th spoke up gruffly. "Immediately after we conclude our interrogation of the Questor. I vote yes and yes."

"As much as I dislike the idea," 1st commented. "I have to agree with 5th. I vote yes and yes.

2nd, 3rd, and 4th voted likewise without further comment.

"No, under no circumstances was it possible, for my apprentice to obtain Location-null's location from me," Questor stated unequivocally. "None of the nanites containing that data have ever left the confines of my physical body. So the nanites Jake inherited didn't have that particular data. Nor have I ever entered it into any computer system other than the unlabeled coordinates I entered into my shuttles navigational computer when I approached the council 158 realtime years ago. On which occasion, I purged all records of the entire voyage from my navigation system's database. If you doubt my word, I will prepare a nano-verification tool so that you may test my nanites for the integrity of my assertion. But I'm curious why you haven't simply asked him directly?"

"We would prefer to never have any further contact with him whatsoever," 1st responded.

"He was intolerably rude," 2nd added.

"Rather than explain the nauseating details," 3rd said. "I shall release the session record of his initial council audience to your security pods data system."

"You are to view the record on the private viewing circuit only!" 4th amended.

"We ourselves prefer not to be further exposed to it!" 5th concluded.

Questor was surprised that the council was evidently willing to wait for him view the record. Since they hadn't closed out his session before them, he reasoned they expected the record would have a significant bearing on what he would be willing to tell them about Jake. When the data transfer was complete he routed it to the private viewing circuit as directed by the 4th councilor.

He observed that Jake started out with a friendly but pointedly non-subordinate attitude. He also saw the high handed manor with which the council responded. He was not surprised by the rapid deterioration of Jake's attitude towards the council. Questor could have even predicted the rude sound Jake had made when the council had threatened to squelch him without having listened to his technically valid point about their lack of authority over him but he was completely unprepared for Jake's response to actually being squelched by the council.

This presented a serious problem. Nonetheless, it took significant effort for Questor to avoid laughing about it.

"It has been, has it not," Questor began. "A very long time since the council gave audience to anyone, other than the leaders of a few governments, who were not actually beholding to the will of the council?" It was a rhetorical question, so Questor continued without pause. "So while there is no doubt that my apprentice was unforgivably rude upon being squelched for his lack of a subservient attitude, I'd recommend that you review everything that was said prior to his actual squelching. With a thought of how the council would have reacted, had one of those 'heads of state' presented in a similar manor.

One thing is certain, you would have at least politely pretended to acknowledge his point of your lack of jurisdiction over him. So as such, I submit that the council is at least partially culpable for Jake's lapse of manors. Nonetheless, if you will allow me to speak with him. I think I can persuade him to apologize for that last gesture. At least, that is, if I can tell him that you will listen to 'polite' conversation from him. Which I hope I can, because I for one, would dearly like to know how he learned the location of this facility."

Jake's image slowly shook his head.

"I take it they are monitoring this conversation Steve?" his image inquired after he heard Questor's request.

"The councilors may, just may mind you, be many things Jake," Questor's image replied. "But absolute stupidity isn't one of them. Of course they are monitoring this conversation. So don't go looking for any hidden messages in my words. I'm quite certain the Admiral would detect them.

Especially since he already lost face with the council on account of me. So like I said, the council has good reason to speak with you. They are even willing to allow that you have a right to also speak your mind and have pledged to actually listen. Provided you will agree to keep a civil tongue in your head and respect the protocol of the council's order of speaking.

The council speaks as if it were a single entity yet it has 5 separate voices. Once the first councilor begins speaking, you will be expected to hold your piece until the fifth councilor is done. If you will do that, they will also listen to you. Even if they don't like what they hear. But of course none of this will happen unless you first apologize for that, ah, last rude gesture you presented them with."

Jake's image grinned slightly.

"Yeah, that was a little over the top wasn't it?" his image asked. Then continued without waiting for an answer. "Look Steve, I know they are listening but right now I'm talking to you not them. Since you evidently know about the mooning incident," Jake's image said with a weak smile, "I presume you also know I started out trying to reason with them. And that it wasn't until they made it obvious that they were not planning on considering the legal distinction brought about by my not yet having sworn any allegiance to them. That I decided I didn't want to talk with them until they had a reason to take me more seriously. Which evidently they now do. But now that I've also had some time to cool off and think about it, I'm inclined to agree that actually mooning them wasn't called for. So for 'that' I'm willing to apologize. Now as far as council protocol goes, I'll refrain from interrupting their collective speech if they will, once it's my turn, refrain from interrupting mine."

Suddenly the direct communications link between the two isolation chambers was severed. While at the same time the shells of said chambers became transparent. Jake could see that Steve was contained in a similar chamber to the one he was locked into. He felt a twinge of compassion for him. Because if Steve's chamber was as good at blocking inter-nanite communications as his own was. Then Steve's symbiont couldn't possibly be giving him much support. Jake knew that, like most questors, Steve was very uncomfortable when that support was even momentarily disrupted. Jake's musing was cut short by the voice of the 1st councilor.

"The terms you described to your master are acceptable to the council," 1st began.

Jake actually bit his tongue to avoid correcting him about Steve's relationship to himself.

"When 5th has spoken you will be expected to start with that apology," 2nd continued.

"If we believe your apology is sincere," 3rd admonished. "We will then ask you some questions."

"Then in turn," 4th continued. "You will have the opportunity to answer."

"After you answer our questions," 5th finished. "You'll be given the opportunity to explain any of your concerns that we may not have addressed."

Jake stood up straight and looked each councilor in turn, squarely in what he could see of their eyes as he spoke.

"I do apologize for my excessively rude behavior," Jake began. "The fact that I was upset at the time does not excuse it. I was wrong to carry on so. Please accept my apology so that we might continue on to more reasonable discussions."

"I'm willing to accept that apology for the moment," 1st began. Though I'm not ready to forgive the offense."

"I actually do believe he is sincere," 2nd continued. "So barring further offense I am prepared to accept it unconditionally and consider that issue closed."

"I'm not quite so certain of his sincerity," 3rd objected. "But in the interest of getting down to business, I concur with 2nd"

"What is obvious to me is that he is making an effort to comply with our protocol," 4th spoke up. "Even though his body language indicated that he wanted to rebut something 1st said. Yet he has held his tongue. That alone is enough for me to decide to credit his apology and agree with 2nd."

5th actually chuckled crudely.

"Indeed, it can be difficult waiting ones turn to answer some of the things that 1st chooses to say," he said. "I also agree with 2nd and I submit my first question to you. Just what was it that 1st said that set your teeth against your own tongue?" Jake inclined his head towards 5th as he answered.

"He referred to Steve as my 'master'," Jake explained. "Which isn't quite true. I never swore any more allegiance to him, than I have to the guild itself. What he is or at least has been, is my mentor. I'm not really sure why that difference means so much to me but it does."

"I stand corrected," 1st responded coldly. "It now occurs to me that in the interest of actually getting to the truth of the matters at hand. I think we should delegate our inquiry to the capable hands of the Admiral."

"It would expedite matters," 2nd agreed.

"You will of course be expected to treat the Admiral with the same respect you've agreed to give the council itself," 3rd added.

"Agreed!" 4th simply said.

"The Admiral will commence the formal inquiry now," 5th concluded.

The Admiral, who had been quietly standing at attention behind the prisoners, cleared his throat.

"That being the will of the council," he screeched. "The prisoners are directed to face me that I might see their faces while we talk." When both Jake and Steve were facing him he continued. "Thank you gentleman. My first question is for the one called Jake. How did you acquire the information concerning Location-null?"

"I had hoped that might be what's on your mind," Jake said with a slight smile. "But the truth is I didn't. Your question confirms my suspicion that 'this' is in fact the council's secret base. But I still don't know where it is."

The Admiral was watching both Jake and Questor closely as he listened.

"This is most confusing," the Admiral screeched. "Yet I believe that your speaking the truth. I also believe that your 'mentor' is not very surprised to hear that. You should know, as he does, that I am a master at reading facial expressions. However, you may as well know that the council will expect both of you to prepare nano-verification tools at the end of the council audience. As they have less faith in this method than I do." He turned his head towards Questor and added, "I will also want to know why you did not find your apprentice's revelation very surprising old friend." Then the Admiral turned his full attention back to Jake as he continued. "But for the moment I must ask Jake to explain how it is, since he doesn't know our coordinates, that the Avant-garde has arrived here to demand your release. How did they know where to find you? And perhaps more importantly, why doesn't my report of their presence surprise you?"

Jake actually treated the Admiral to a radiant smile before he began his explanation.

"It is true that I hoped that my friends from the Free Spacer Alliance would detect my homing beacon," Jake explained. "Just as I'm sure that you find it hard to believe that anyone who was in an active nano-secure isolation chamber, could have set one without help. When the council examines the nano-verification tool you mentioned Admiral, they will find that I speak the truth when I say that the Captain was unaware of the special stealth nano-pods I released when I first boarded the Resonance. It wasn't his fault. I had the advantage of being quite sure that he would be required to confine me to such a device before I would be brought here.

The particular nanites that made up the pods were composed with a high percentage of a special crystalline material that is part of the basis of certain proprietary Hillside technologies involving sidereal communications. I made sure that special receivers were built into the new ships which I licensed to the Alliance upon the contingent that they accept my pledge."

"It is conceivable that certain stealth enhanced nanites could have sent a covert signal that we failed to detect," the Admiral admitted. "What is hard to believe is that you were able to so instruct them from within this chamber. Can you explain that."

"I can and will," Jake began. "But you should know that this explanation touches on my whole reason for wanting an opportunity to speak before the council in the first place. Shall I continue?"

After a slight pause, the Admiral replied.

"Since the council didn't choose to object, I presume they are just as interested in this detail as I am. Proceed!"

"Very well Admiral," Jake continued. "It is however, a complex detail that requires more than a few assumptions to explain. As the council is no doubt aware, I acquired my nanites directly from my mentor when he used them to save my life. This has more ramifications than just the issue of my not having pledged myself to the guild. The first and more obvious ramification is based on the fact that my mentor became a questor prior to certain modifications being made to the rules of nanosymbiotic conduct.

Thus my nanites themselves, are not obligated to automatically enforce current guild protocols upon their use. A less obvious but more pertinent ramification is that, since they don't automatically enforce those protocols, it is possible for a variant on the traditional sentient nanosymbiotic control pattern to develop. It's quite rare and would be so even if the modified rules of nanosymbiotic conduct built into the nanosymbiotic seeds, that are now so predominantly used to offer guild pledges the opportunity to become host-minds, didn't specifically preclude such a development. But under such circumstances it can happen that the potential host-mind gains a more direct form of control over the nanites. One that isn't wholly dependent on the formation of a sentient nano-net.

Such direct control, in those rare cases where it exists, usually leads to the development of preprogrammed nano-pods that are not dependent on a continuous flow of control codes from some nanosymbiont. Which in my case, has yet to develop. I might add that if you examine the report on my first encounter with the species that I took it upon myself to commit genocide against. You will find verification of that fact. Because their containment field wasn't interrupted long enough for even a mature nanosymbiont to reconnect a full control dialog with any external nanites. Never mind actually use them to inflict the systemic damage that mine did upon simply being instructed to enter combat mode.

That fact is relevant because it was my experience with their containment system, that taught me the value of preprogramming for multiple contingencies. Thus my less than sentient nano-pods were nonetheless able to determine when to initialize the homing beacon protocol. Hence the Avant-garde."

"This is most disturbing Mr Peterson," 1st interrupted the Admirals interrogation. "For if everything you've said proves to be true, then you are correct that we don't actually have direct jurisdiction over your crime. Worse, under the terms of the Free Space Accord, the fact that you have already pledged yourself to the Free Spacer Alliance precludes our allowing you to pledge to the guild unless they first decline your pledge."

"Which you have insured they will not do," 2nd continued. "By making the licensing of your new starship technologies provisional on their acceptance of your membership."

"This is unfortunate," 3rd explained. "Because you have become far too dangerous to be allowed to roam free without certain safeguards that we can not impose directly on your nanites without your sworn allegiance to the guild."

"This is most regrettable," 4th added. "But it leaves us little choice."

"We have but two options," 5th concluded. "We must either confine you for the rest of your life or the only other viable choice is execution."

Jake did his best to look all of the councilors squarely in the eyes.

"Before you decide which fate to impose upon me," he said. "Let me inform you of a few things that you should be aware of. Though in the event that you should learn something that changes your mind, you will let me know, won't you?"

It was the Admiral who answered.

"Say your piece Jake," he screeched almost gently. "I doubt it will change anything but say it anyway. The council will at least listen to you."

Jake smiled but his face reveled the deep sadness of an old wound that still festers. Then Jake began talking.

"I'm here because you fear what I have done," Jake began. "Or to be more precise, the fact that my nanites didn't shut me down for doing it. After all even though, given the same tools to work with, any questor could have done the same. None of them could have survived knowingly doing so unless they had the backing of a quorum of their peers. And in the case of those subject to the modified rules of nanosymbiotic conduct such a 'quorum' is predefined as a council decision.

But I did this terrible deed on my own, there were no others to validate my decision. Yet my nanites didn't institute nanosymbiotic deresolution protocols." Jake paused briefly. "I don't blame you for being worried. It is alarming to think of what might happen if anyone with even just half as much power as a questor, could operate without some kind of limiting mechanism. As a matter of fact, to some extent I find myself in agreement with the council.

Now that I have seen what I'm capable of, I'm painfully aware that I can't continue on this way. I understand that since it is no longer possible that I become a pledge of the guild and thus become subject to the same oath that imposes such limits upon my mentor, you think that you can't afford to permit me to live. You know in some ways that almost doesn't matter to me. I lost my reason for living on LosLand. You see when that monster invaded Cindy's mind, I lost her heart. To be sure I sent in nano-probes to analyze and if it had been possible, repair the damage. But she is no longer the woman I love. You've seen her Steve, am I wrong or is she lost to me?"

Questor shook his head.

"I'm sorry Jake," Questor replied. "I wish I could disagree. I've taken measures to give her a chance to reinvent herself. But your right, most of the neuropathways that could restore her former emotional bond to you now irrevocably lead to memories that would certainly tear her apart. She may eventually heal but she won't ever be the same."

Jake sighed.

"I said there were some things the council should be aware of," Jake resumed speaking. "The first thing is that since my nanites are bound to the original nanosymbiotic pact, they are designed to be bound, by certain aspects of their host-minds own personal oath to the Guild. Rather than by automatic built in obedience. This also means that they would actually be bound to the similar limitations imposed by their host-mind taking the oath of a Freespacer.

So if you permit me to formally become a Freespacer, instead of a questor, I wouldn't be without safeguards. They just wouldn't be under your direct control." Jake paused for a moment. "Yeah well I didn't think you'd want to go for that, even though you know that by denying the Freespacers the full benefit of that licensed technology you are turning your back on the express will of your predecessors.

The ones who realized that in the long run a little competition would be good for the guild. Which brings me to my second point. By now it must be obvious, even to the guild council, that the guild itself is deteriorating. Its been in a state of slow decay ever since most people realized that the competition that the Free Space Accord was supposed to inspire just wasn't in the cards.

As you must know, if you don't allow the Alliance to formally accept my pledge, the results will be the same as if you let me become one of theirs and then didn't release me. They will declare it a holy war and you will be forced to use your superior force to crush them. In so doing you would become very much like the old guild." Again Jake paused. "It occurs to me that like it or not, you will eventually decide to release me to captain Waymaker. You really have no other viable options left. But I wouldn't expect that to be the end of it.

The fact that you found it necessary to modify the terms of the original nanosymbiotic pact to specifically exclude the Free Spacer's oath, is sufficient to show that you don't consider it to be a sufficiently effective limitation. So while I expect that you will let me leave, you will also most likely institute certain sanctions against me as an omega class threat.

You will, no doubt, stop short of open war with the Free Spacers. But sooner or later, I will be under the threat of sanctioned assassination. I understand why this will be so. And that leaves me to warn you of a few things. Though you needn't worry very much about me instituting a vendetta against the guild itself. Or even the members of it's council. I make no promises however, as to the safety of anyone who tries to do me harm. And that is especially true in the case of any who would reach me by harming my friends. But there are a couple exceptions concerning the possibility of a vendetta.

First, if I ever believe the guild has instituted sanctions against Hillside or it's personnel. Or in the event that you should decide I'm so dangerous that you decide to broaden the sanction to include such collateral damage as incurred by destroying a city or village or even just a household, where I'm believed to be located. Then you had better hope the would be assassin does not miss. For if I survived such a thing, I would institute such a vendetta as you have never seen. Now, if I've made myself sufficiently clear. I suggest you invite captain Waymaker to come on down and accept my oath of membership."

"The prisoner has made some valid points," 1st reluctantly admitted. "But his release is by no means certain. He is in a poor position to threaten us with a vendetta."

"I'm not so certain he intended it as a threat," 2nd contended. "In fact since he was careful to outline certain reprehensible circumstances under which he would do so. I suggest he merely intended that as a warning."

"Threat, warning or..." 3rd looked pointedly at Jake as she speculated. "Perhaps even just a promise." 3rd turned her attention back towards the other council members. "The fact is the circumstances he listed as a causative of such a vendetta, should be addressed before we even consider releasing him. Which, given a few prerequisites, I now recommend.

First, before we would allow him to complete his pledge. We should ourselves make a binding resolution in his presence, that we expressly forbid that any guild representative should stoop so low as to attack him in such an indiscriminate fashion as he described. Indeed, we should also publish that any such action taken by any third party agent would be treated as severely as a similar attack on a guild representative. Secondly we should require that he repeat that which he just said to us in the form of a personal oath. With the modification that he acknowledge that anyone who attacks the guild, does so at their own risk. For we should have the same right to protect ourselves as he claims for himself. Lastly, we should make sure that the Free Spacers understand our belief that the oath of a Free Spacer is insufficient protection from the dangers presented by the sub-sentient nature of their pledge's nano-symbionce. And that we do reserve the right to address that danger as we see fit."

There was a moment of silence before 4th spoke.

"I support 3rd's recommendations," 4th agreed when he was done thinking about it. "I also think that when we explain our right to address the danger he represents. We should clearly define that we mean to reserve the right for any questor to engage him in personal combat under the provisions of extreme dispute. Which we shall deem applicable to the prisoner even though his oath of compliance will not be that of a guildsman. We should further claim the right for any ship of the Guild to challenge any Free Spacer vessel bearing his personage under the terms of honorable combat as defined in the Free Space Accord."

"I'm in agreement with both 3rd and 4th," 5th added. "So I now bid the prisoner to speak concerning the revisions we have just proposed."

"Well then there are several points I would make concerning those revisions," Jake said with a smile. "First of all, while neither the 1st councilor nor the 2nd were exactly wrong, 3rd's shrewd speculation as to the intent of my comments concerning a vendetta was the more accurate. For it was in fact a promise, that in the event that my warning was unheeded, I would with considerable regret, turn the threat into a reality. But in the event that any future conflict between us is handled honorably under the terms 4th did specify. Then I too shall honor them. I will also accept that the provisions of extreme dispute as defined in a questor's oath of induction can be applied to me, so long as the guild allows that I therefore have the same right to so challenge an individual questor to personal combat. I further predict that the Free Spacer Alliance will allow that a guild ship may invoke the terms of honorable combat upon an alliance vessel under the same circumstances that you will allow an alliance vessel to challenge a guild ship.

In both cases, of course, there must prove to be reasonable cause, as defined by the Free Space Accord. Else a breach of agreement shall be awarded under the terms of said accord. I will allow, that should any alliance ship refuse to release me to answer a challenge to personal combat under the provisions of extreme dispute, it shall be deemed reasonable cause. And I'm certain the alliance will ratify that, so long as the reverse circumstance shall be considered reasonable cause for an alliance ship to challenge any guild ship declining to release a questor to answer my challenge.

I further do hereby swear that in the moment that all these things are formally agreed to by both the Guild and the Alliance, my former statement of fact shall be considered by me and all of my personal nanites to be a binding oath. Regarding which they will provide a nano-verification tool to certify that they will enforce that oath as strongly as a questor's nanites would a sworn life bond. Will that do?"

Chapter 40 Departure

Steve shook his head, then laughed loudly for longer than he had in a long time.

"I think congratulations are in order Jake," he said, when his laughter finally died down. "Frankly though I must say that I'm still trying to figure out how you pulled that stunt off. But I'm sure glad you did. You know of course that you will be the most famous nanosymbiont in guild history."

"Yeah!" Jake interrupted his former mentor. "But do you mean because I used a transdimensional rift to commit genocide or because I managed to reintroduce viable competition in interstellar commerce?"

Steve shook his head again, then replied, "The fame you will get from both of those combined will pale by comparison to the story of the nanosymbiont who dared to moon the guild council!"

"What?!?" interrupted captain Waymaker.

"I thought the council was suppressing that information," Jake ignored Waymaker as he countered Steve's comment.

"Which is exactly why that story will spread so far," Steve explained. "If they hadn't tried to suppress it, then nobody would have believed it. Still, I think you should hold off giving captain Waymaker the details of the story until your several thousand lightyears away from here."

"Wait a cyclet," Waymaker protested. "The Avant-garde is my ship and I demand those details now."

Steve shook his head.

"But I'm here as a 'guild' representative and a paying passenger," the Questor said. "That's not the kind of order you can give me. As for Jake here, I suppose you could threaten to space him but I doubt you'll get a word about it until he's good and ready. He is something of a stubborn individual after all."

"You know of course old friend," the Admiral interjected. "That I will have to include the fact 'that my old friend brought the subject up' in my report to the council."

Steve actually smiled.

"True enough old friend," he admitted. "But the way I see it, they lost the ability to give me arbitrary commands about anything that happened from the moment they violated the original nanosymbiotic pact by commanding you to use a neuro-restraint to force my nanosymbiotic network to shutdown, until they restored my freedom. Nonetheless, I'll admit that it's a good thing that the Avant-garde will be departing the system, the moment we launch your shuttle pod. So by the time they get your 'full report', we will be deep within the embrace of a subspatial jump."

"He's got a point there Admiral," Jake said. "By the way I'm curious, was it the council that decided you would be my escort to the Avant-garde or was that a personal choice?"

"Both!" the Admiral replied. "Actually they ordered me to have you escorted. But I'm the one who decided that I would escort you personally. Speaking of which, it's time I returned to Location-null. I've got a lot of work to find it a new home.

First however Mr Peterson, I would like to say that I find the innovative new way you've devised to make subspace such a viable medium for interstellar travel very intriguing. I know for a fact that the Professor himself once spent considerable effort to develop a subspatial drive system for certain stealth operations. And the best he was able to do was considerably slower than what your jump ship design seems able to do.

You see a guild reconnaissance scout ship detected some very unusual vessels in a very close orbit to a star 20 galactic standard lightyears away from Central Freight Station just before one of them entered a subspatial rift. It's worthy of note that the scout ship wasn't even able to determine the direction of the ship's subspatial journey. This intrigued the commander of operations at Central Freight so much that he decided to study the other six ships for a while before taking any direct action. It was nearly six cycles later that they opened their own subspatial rifts and made their way to Central Freight Station. And just two cycles after that, the Avant-garde arrived here. So I have a fairly accurate time line to base my assessment of how fast your jump ships are. I also note that they are also just as difficult to track as the Professor's stealth ships were.

Would you care to explain how it is that you were able to come up with what I'd class as a subspatial stealth ship that's faster than the best that even the Professor could come up with?"

"There's only so much I can tell you without giving up all the details of how my ships work Admiral," Jake replied. "But I will say that I did have the advantage of having access to all of Hillside's proprietary technology when I studied the unusual design 'the people' used for their starships. That combined with the insight I got from having survived deploying that terrible weapon I used to destroy them combined with a strong desire to find a way to offer the Alliance a way to compete with the guild. So that they would be unwilling to turn down my proposal. All added up to a very motivating brainstorming session."

"That doesn't really explain it very well," the Admiral said. "But then I didn't expect you to give up all your secrets. So that brings me to one final request on behalf of the council. They have asked that you please provide me with a nano-verification tool, that certifies that you have removed or permanently disabled any and all of your nanites from all guild facilities and equipment in this star system. Including my shuttle pod."

"No problem," Jake said with a grin. "I don't mind setting their minds at ease about the fact that any and all remaining nano-pods will self destruct the moment the subspatial rift closes behind the Avant-garde. I presume that they'd also like me to include the fact that I've no intention of trying to sneak any new ones past your sensors as well."

Captain Waymaker rechecked the preprogrammed sequence one last time before he keyed open the ship to ship communication channel. "Are you ready for launch Admiral?" he asked.

"Anytime your ready," the Admiral's voice screeched in reply.

"Initializing launch sequence." Waymaker replied as he pressed the flashing button.

The Avant-garde began to pivot along it's horizontal axis. At a predetermined point a carefully regulated magnetic pulse coursed through the pod launcher. Sending the Admiral's shuttle pod on an ideal transfer trajectory that would require no modifications until the inertial damper circuits of Location-null's docking hub would bring it's relative momentum to zero. The pod's transit would take only two subcyclets to complete. One subcyclet after the pod was launched, the Avant-garde had finished pivoting on it's axis. Now that it's linear axis no longer intersected either the pod nor any of the asteroids, a massive burst of energy passed through the Avant-garde's particle thrusters. Meanwhile almost simultaneously the fully licensed Hillside technology gravitational optimizer completely neutralized the attraction of all local gravity wells. Thus even as the Admiral's shuttle pod came to a halt inside the docking hub The Avant-garde had acquired sufficient relative system escape velocity to begin generating a viable, precalculated subspatial rift.

By the time the Admiral had disembarked from the shuttle pod, the Avant-garde was fully immersed in subspace. The only one at Location-null who wasn't surprised that the Avant-garde could muster enough energy to do this so quickly was the Admiral. Indeed, most of the crew onboard the Avant-garde were also surprised.

The ships redheaded tactical officer, Omer Jones, ran his fingers through his short red hair, treated his Captain to his widest blue eyed stare and spouted, "What the fringe just happened sir?"

"The 'fringe' has nothing to do with it Omer," Waymaker informed the young officer. "We just began a subspatial jump."

"But that should have taken a full cycle," objected Galina Fialkovskii.

Waymaker treated the brunette navigator to a smile.

"Sure," he said. "Under normal circumstances when we don't have it all precalculated."

"It's true enough that the calculations take about 8 subcycles out of that cycle," Galina countered. "But it still should have taken at least a full subcycle to implement them. We did it in less than 2% of that."

"That's because this time we spent nearly 50% of our total synthuel capacity just to open the rift," Sue Kreidenweis interjected as she entered the control room. "I think it was rather nice of them to procrastinate about releasing our passengers, long enough for us to fully refill our synthuel tank."

Then the short blond and promiscuous engineering officer walked up close enough to her captain that each time she inhaled her oversized breasts lightly brushed against his midsection. Since she was wearing a nonstandard uniform consisting of a wraparound skirt that barely reached her knees and a silk like top with a wide cleavage that barely covered her rapidly stiffening nipples the effect she was intentionally having was obvious to everyone present. After a couple of breaths Captain Waymaker sighed and took a step back.

"Do you have something to report?" he asked with a sigh.

Sue grinned and pointedly focused her gaze downward. As she did so she responded to his query.

"You mean besides noting that it's obvious that you wish we weren't on duty at the moment?" Then without hesitation she abruptly shifted her gaze to her Captain's eyes and continued in a more professional tone of voice. "Actually I came forward to inform you that every single system performed exactly as our benefactor said it would." Sue nodded in Jake's direction, and continued. "During the rapid insertion procedure, the core temperature of the rift generator jumped briefly to 99% of the rated safe temperature as we punched through. But by the time the rift closed behind us it had cooled down to 50%. Also the load on the Synthuel conversion containment field maxed out at 75% of it's rated capacity. All other systems stayed at ideal levels." Sue paused for a moment. "At the moment we have nearly 20% of it left to complete the current jump with. Which, considering we used nearly 16% just to achieve a safe stellar escape velocity so quickly, isn't bad."

Captain Waymaker considered how he should respond to his engineer's provocative behavior. He really valued her proficiency with everything technological, as well as her ability to learn new technology faster than anyone else he knew, with the possible exception of their enigmatic benefactor and pledge Jake or his companion, the Questor. In fact if they hadn't been standing there smirking at his discomfort. He'd have been tempted to simply hand off command to Omer and declare both Sue and himself off duty for the next half hour. There wasn't anyone else onboard who wouldn't have expected him to do something like that and of course that was just what he badly wanted to do.

It wasn't that this top heavy, gray eyed, pudgy, wide bottomed sexpot was his ideal woman, or even his type. It had more to do with the fact that she frequently offered opportunities for nonexclusive sex to almost anyone she liked. Who she believed would neither think less of her nor become possessive. Somehow that seemed so erotic that it was with extreme difficulty that he opted for whatever decorum he could still salvage in front of his guests.

"The fact remains Kreidenweis," he said in a stern tone. "That we are 'both' actually on duty. I am however pleased with the promptness with which you made your technical report, as well as it's content. so there will be no reprimand for the unprofessional way you chose to deliver it."

At this point Galina briefly chortled. Omer didn't make any sound but the look on his face revealed more amusement than if he had openly guffawed. It was with the sinking feeling that any hope of maintaining any sense of professionalism in front of his passengers was a lost cause that captain Waymaker turned towards the spot where they were standing together on the other side of the control room. Questor's expression didn't reveal any emotion whatever but unfortunately the expression on Jake's face reveled even more amusement than his tactical officer's had.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," captain Waymaker apologized.

At which point Questor allowed a wry grin to slowly appear on his face.

"You know," Questor said. "Both Jake and myself are quite comfortable with people mixing business with pleasure."

"Actually Steve," Jake interrupted. "I don't think the good captain was really worried about offending some questor nor his former apprentice. I think this has more to do with his professional reputation." Then, he looked directly at Waymaker. "You know captain, I've been studying the bylaws, as any pledge to Free Spacer Alliance should. And as far as I can tell, the Alliance's definition of proper professional behavior while on duty, merely requires 'not letting such things interfere with ones duty'. Besides, there isn't even one potentially closed minded passenger on board to make for bad PR. So I can't see where anyone's duty was actually at risk. Am I mistaken?"

"Not exactly Jake," Waymaker replied. "The real problem is my own edicts about 'on duty' behavior. Still I suppose that there isn't any requirement for the rest of my crew to remain on duty." As he said that Waymaker fished an antique whistle out of his pocket and after using it to send a distinctive attention getting call through the ships intercom he made a ship wide announcement. "Now hear this," he said into the intercom. "All hands are hereby relieved of duty until further notice. Consider yourselves at liberty to indulge in the recreational activities of your choice. With the exception of allowing yourselves to become too impaired to resume duty status on one cycle's notice."

"Pardon me Sir," Omer addressed his captain with a grin. "But given the fact that there isn't currently anyone on board who might even conceivably someday enter into a long term monogamous relationship with me, I won't be partaking of any such worthwhile recreation. So would you mind granting me the vicarious pleasure of facilitating the debauchery that will result from my taking the watch for you?"

"Since you put it that way Omer," Waymaker replied. "You've got the duty."

He then looked Sue, who hadn't moved, directly in the eyes as he slowly leaned forward and slipped his tongue under the edge of the fabric that was suddenly no longer covering her left nipple. Then he began to kiss and suck on it. As he did this he reached down with his arms and began lifting the back of her skirt up. This quickly revealed the fact that she wasn't wearing anything under it. Meanwhile Sue reached down and quickly unfastened her captains pants. Then as she pushed them down, freeing his engorged manhood she suddenly turned around and impaled herself on him as he leaned forward to slide his hands under her top and began massaging her breasts. Neither Sue nor her captain seemed to care who was watching them anymore.

Chapter 41 Exile

The Avant-garde returned to normal space in close proximity to a binary star system. Captain Waymaker quickly checked the ships energy reserves.

"Plot a low power consumption course change Galina," the captain ordered. "I want a slow elliptical charging orbit around the primary." Then he spoke into the ships intercom system. "Sue, I want you to deploy the particle collectors. Start scavenging all the power you can get."

"Are we really as low on power as I think we are?" the ship's purser inquired nervously, as he entered the control room.

"Yes Robert," Sue affirmed. "We've less than 5% of our synthuel capacity left." Then noticing a slight twitching in one of the purser's normally calm green eyes Sue continued. "Of course that's still more power than most old style ships can muster with full powercells. So why so nervous?"

"Well it just seems like we recently irritated the guild counsel," Robert replied. "We are also known to be carrying at least one passenger that they really got it in for."

"Not to worry," Jake interjected. "I'm fairly sure that the council's word bond will keep them from taking any 'direct' hostile action."

"That much is certainly true," Questor interrupted. "Even so, Robert has good reason to worry. Given the intensity with which the council is known to resent your status Jake. It is likely that there are several of the kind of questors who would cheerfully use their considerable personal discretion to hunt you down. Who were most likely informed of our imminent departure before we were allowed to board the Avant-garde. And some of them are dammed good trackers."

"Not good enough to track that jump I'll wager," Galina spoke up. "I mean aside from the fact that there is no known way to directly track a subspatial jump, I'd already calculated a very convoluted jump path before Jake added an intense sidereal element to it."

"Even so we did start our jump under intense scrutiny," Jake said. "So I wouldn't be too sure that one of them won't eventually find a way track us here. After all questors tend to be quite resourceful. But considering how little time they've had to devise a way to track a subspatial jump, we should certainly have enough time to fuel up."

While they waited for the synthuel tanks to fill up Questor found a moment to talk privately with his former apprentice. He had some of the same questions for him that the Admiral had about Jake's jump ship design. Though he was more interested in when he'd had time to test it properly.

"If you must know Steve," Jake replied. "It was a key component of how I engineered the destruction of all those star systems. I'd done a lot of simulated testing during the extremely long subjective time of my very indirect voyage to their established territory. I'd needed to ensure that none of those monsters escaped by beginning a subspatial flight even as I detonated my weapon system. My plan for survival involved launching a special escape vessel through an old style inverse temporal dilation wormhole which I opened at the exit point of my first and only test jump. Even as I used the onboard half of a pre-linked pair of specialized portalizers to transfer a massive load of synthuel to it's mate in the equally special subspatial escape pod I'd jettisoned just before I reached my exit point. Since the escape pod didn't have a synthuel containment system some of the synthuel would be in transition between the portalizers when the primary detonation occurred in subspace before the subspatial exit point could close.

The fact that there could possibly be anything left of me for the Captain to rescue proved that all of my theoretical designs worked. If they hadn't I'd have failed to stop those beasts from launching their attack on the rest of the galaxy. The design for this jump ship has considerably more safeguards than my first jump ship did. I'll admit there was some risk that it might not have been able to go quite as far on a single jump. Or that the process of condensing synthuel in normal space time might have been more time consuming. But I had no doubt about the safety of the subspatial jump process itself. Even so, I think it's a very good thing that the oath I took, when I joined the fraternal order of the Free Spacer Alliance, will prevent me from allowing good people like captain Waymaker and his crew from testing my assumptions without at least disclosing the lack of formal testing first."

"Yes that is definitely a very good thing Jake," Steve replied. "You were after all becoming a very dangerous individual. I'm still not sure how you became quite so deviously clever without having the advantages of an fully sentient nanosymbiont. But since you've embraced the limiting factors of your Free Spacer oath, I'm very glad you are."

Then they spent some time discussing each others plans for the future. Their deliberations ended when captain Waymaker intruded on their privacy to invite them to share a toast to their success in outfoxing the guild council.

When the Avant-garde's synthuel tanks were eventually filled to capacity, captain Waymaker asked his passengers if it was time to tell him where they wanted to go.

"Actually we need to go in two separate directions, don't you know?" Jake replied.

"Yes, I have a little business to finish up on my way to Hillside," Questor confirmed. "While Jake here needs to find a way to secretly rendezvous with a certain guild ship."

"Fortunately there is a place you can bring us," Jake resumed speaking. "That will, if we can avoid detection, work for both of us." As he said this, Jake held out a data tab to captain Waymaker. "This confidential data base contains a list of coordinates for some secret rendezvous locations I've selected, including a planet called LosLand."

The Avant-garde returned to normal space in close proximity to LosLand's sun. It's trajectory and initial relative velocity was such that it entered into a fast ecliptic orbital path around the star. Which would take just under three galactic standard subcycles to swing around the far side of the star. During which time two of the Avant-garde's shuttle craft were to be launched. First to launch was Questor, in one of the standard short range shuttles. The timing of his launch was critical. He had to launch after the Avant-garde's ecliptic path began to break away from the close proximity with the star. Lest it's massive gravity well should prove too much for the shuttles engines. While at the same time he had to launch before the Avant-garde's slingshot orbit built up so much outward momentum. That even the small mass of the shuttle would inherit enough of it to carry him too far beyond LosLand's orbit.

Questor wasn't overly worried however. He had checked the math and he'd seen enough of the Avant-garde's crew to feel confident that nobody would screw up. Still it was a pleasant surprise to see that the shuttle's inherited momentum proved to be just enough to effect an excellent trajectory path. Which would have resulted in a survivable atmospheric entry. Even if the shuttles engines had been completely inoperable.

Meanwhile as Questor began to approach LosLand, the Avant-garde reached sufficient relative speed and distance for Jake to safely take it's only fringe shuttle, on a covert fringe effect flight.

Unlike the short range shuttle that Questor had taken Jake's shuttle was equipped with a fully certified fringe effect drive. It could even make multiple fringe flights without external assistance but since it was a ship's shuttle, it was designed to fit within a smaller hull design than a standard shuttle of similar capacity. Thus some standard equipment had been omitted from it to make room for the fringe drive. Jake's shuttle's thrusters were underpowered. As was it's gravitational optimizer.

The shuttle had enough power for normal maneuvering. It could make safe planetfall on any planet within the gravitational norm for human habitation but getting back into space without launch assistance would be somewhat problematic. Because it would require running it's thrusters at maximum for an extended period. By the time it would attain orbit, it would need to shut down it's drive systems for an extended cool down and recalibration process. During which time it would be a sitting duck. That wouldn't be an issue for this flight however. Jake had no intention of making planetfall anywhere. No, he was headed on a carefully plotted indirect course for an unofficial rendezvous location. Which Questor had long ago established with 'the Captain' of the Resonance. A location which Jake could expect the Resonance to routinely check on, as it passed by. The original purpose was so that the Questor could quietly get on board the Resonance without the guild's tattletales noticing. Now it would serve Jake the same way.

Jake was less surprised but just as pleased as Questor had been with the perfectly executed launch of his shuttle. His outward bound trajectory, distance and relative velocity from the star's gravity well, were ideal for the beginning of his subspatial fringe flight.

Jake double checked his coordinates several times while he waited for the Resonance to notice him. It wasn't that he had any doubt about being in the exact right spot but he was bored. The only other task he'd had to do was to run a passive scan of the area to insure that nobody else had noticed him. With the fringe drive in stealth mode, it had taken him nearly five overcycles to get here. Then he had waited for two more before he suddenly felt a slight lurch. As the Resonance's manipulator array gently latched on to his shuttle and pulled him into their 'inverse temporal dilation' envelope. As soon as his shuttle was fully inserted in a docking bay, Jake established a secure communication link to the Resonance.

"Hello shipmates," Jake began. "I wish it was safe for me to spend some time walking among you. But if I were to actually step foot on the Resonance, then sooner or later the guild council would come to know of it. And that would not be a good thing for any of us. So it is that I'd like to invite the Captain, to please come aboard my shuttle craft that we may parley."

"Now be reasonable Jake," the Captain's image insisted. "You know damn well that if you don't come aboard and be seen to at least nod at a few of them. My Nearkin crew are going to make my life miserable for several generations."

Jake shook his head.

"By now you must have heard about the sanctions your 'guild council' has authorized concerning me," Jake explained. "It won't matter how much you might not want to, you know you'd be obligated to report my presence."

"Of course I'll have to report it eventually," the Captain's image argued. "But I 'can' hold off on that until 'after' you've left. And frankly not even that collection of bureaucrats actually think they can force 'me' to personally endorse their sanctions. So please do come aboard."

"Actually sir," Jake reasoned. "I'd be more concerned with the parts about guild personnel giving me access to guild facilities."

"You can stow that bilge right now!" the Captain's image interrupted in a commanding voice. "The Resonance isn't a guild facility. It never was, any more than Hillside is. You should be aware that the Resonance pioneered the concept of roving long range transport ships. But unlike the others that came afterwards, it wasn't constructed for that purpose by one of the guild shipyards. It evolved from my personal long range shuttle. Aside from that, I don't even own it anymore, my Nearkin do.

You see, some time ago, when I lost one of my oldest friends in a terrible accident. I realized that not even a questor is truly immortal. So I began to worry about what would happen to my crew if something ever happened to me. I decided to provide for that eventuality by setting up a trust in their name and transferring ownership of the Resonance to it." A slight trace of a smile showed on the corner of the Captain's lips as he continued. "In fact Jake, the day you accepted honorary membership in the crew of the Resonance. You became part owner of her yourself. Now be a good ship's officer and obey your captain. Get in here and let my Nearkin honor you! Besides, if you don't come on board, you won't be able to finish that special project you were looking forward to."

It was a nearly a hundred overcycles before the Captain would even talk to him about anything besides the various festivities the Nearkin had cooked up in his honor. Jake didn't push, because he realized that thanks to being in full temporal inversion, they could put even the most urgent business aside for years of subjective time without any untoward results. Yet that was the whole problem. Subjective time was so named because you felt every moment of it but eventually he was able to sit down with the captain and ask about it.

"Yes," the Captain replied, "I was able to extract the entire memory core from the AI that was at the heart of the eroded remains of the Star Dragon. I think the AI itself is intact. And yes I've successfully cultured the crystal fragments you left with me. The new crystal has almost overgrown the culture chamber. But frankly I'm not so sure about your plan to embed the entire AI's core logic and memory into the crystal matrix. A process that, I might add, would have had a better chance of success if it had been done during the growth cycle of the crystal."

"Well you see Captain," Jake explained with a sigh. "I'm afraid I didn't quite tell you the whole plan. At least not yet. Though I'd be surprised if you haven't guessed a bit more than your letting on."

"Perhaps I have," the Captain replied. "I'll admit that special isolation chamber you asked me to design gives me some very disturbing ideas about it. For starters, about the only way you could embed as precise a copy of the original AI as your preparations would suggest is by using your nanites to inscribe the pattern within the crystal.

You must know that recreating the active core of such a mature AI like this rarely succeeds Jake. Even if the copy is perfect. The AI itself usually rejects what it perceives as an altered reality and self destructs."

"Which is why," Jake explained. "I plan to provide it with some supplemental memories. With which it can reestablish the continuity of it's own existence."

"But no AI will accept an inserted memory as it's own," the Captain argued. "Not even the Professor has ever succeeded with that."

"That's not strictly true," Jake said as he shook his head. "There is one known form of AI that routinely accepts external memories from a certain verified source."

"I'm only familiar with one kind of AI that does anything like that," the Captain reasoned. "And that's a nanosymbiont. Which only works because it became sentient within the framework of it's host-mind's..." "NO!" the Captain literally interrupted himself to scream. "You can't mean to attempt that! A nanosymbiont 'MUST' first become sentient within the intra-nanite communications network that it forms between it's host-minds nanites.

Any attempt to fake that is so dangerous that the nanosymbiotic pact expressly lists it as an inescapable trigger for the nano-destruct routines. And you've had your nanites far too long to survive without them."

"You know of course Captain," Jake replied. "That with the guild council's sanctions in place, I won't be able to stick with short or even medium range stardrives. Nor can I afford to risk traveling in stasis. I also can't just stay here on the Resonance, sooner or later my presence would endanger everyone on board. So I can't expect to always have the Nearkin's company and music, to keep me sane on the long voyages I must make. And finally, I don't think I could bond with a new AI even if Sandra would risk trying to help me form a replacement."

"Better we should pick a galaxy so far away that the guild wouldn't even think of hunting for you there," the Captain pleaded. "At least not before you've had time to develop your own hedge against the aeons you must face. On the way you would have my company and that of as many of the Nearkin as we can stand to permit the honor of celebrating your presence."

"No! I'm sorry," Jake replied sadly. "But I can not allow you to spend them on that. Oh, I'm honored that you would even consider it. I know how much you love them. I also know that the Nearkin and their music have become as close to a true symbiont as you will ever have. It is they who keep you sane. It is your very love for them that serves as your only real control."

Jake paused briefly but as the Captain didn't respond to his last remark, he continued.

"Unless I'm very mistaken Captain," Jake said. "Your own nanosymbiont never quite coalesced into a sentient being has it?"

"No," the Captain admitted. "And it was a very long time before I was strong enough to survive long range temporal inversion without the help of my ship's AI as well. And your point is?"

Once again Jake shook his head and sighed.

"Sandra told me that she met you once," Jake began. "She was most impressed with you. And with the incredible power you wielded. She was certain that you had actually detected her scanners, though you didn't stop her from collecting the data she wanted. She showed me the results. She also showed me the results of a similar scan she ran on me just before I left Hillside."

The Captain was now certain of what Jake was going to say but as much as he didn't want to hear it, he provided Jake with the excuse to explain it.

"So she scanned both of us," the Captain said. "Am I correct in assuming that she thought our results were somewhat similar?"

"More so than either of us wants to think," Jake confirmed. "You never speak of it Captain. But you must be aware of your strength. Even the guild council regards you as the single most powerful questor there has ever been."

"And now," the Captain mused. "Your going to tell me that your just as strong."

"No!" Jake replied. "At least not yet. But if Sandra's calculations mean anything. I will eventually, assuming I survive long enough, become even stronger than you are. It's for that very reason her calculations predict that my nanites will never truly form a sentient symbiont. Now I'm not actually going to try to force one into existence. But there is a way the recreated AI from the Star Dragon can simulate one long enough to briefly network 'all' of my currently active nanites into a cohesive whole pseudo-sentient symbiont long enough to cohesively negotiate a personal upgrade to their copies of the nanosymbiotic pact.

That's why I needed such a large piece of that specific kind of rare crystal. You see it had to be big enough for 100 percent of my prime nanites to rebuild themselves from it.

During the reformation process, their 'bodies' must provide 'all' of them with the resonance value of a single communication crystal. Specifically a single crystal of the kind Steve built into his transdimensional portalizer control systems."

The Captain just stared at Jake. Jake quietly waited. Finally, after 3 subcycles the Captain broke the silence.

"But with your intimate knowledge of the inner workings of the Questor's transdimensional portalizer. Absolute control over nanites having the properties of that crystal is an insane idea. You must know that."

"Yes it certainly is," Jake acknowledged. "At least on the surface. But you see Captain, as much as I hate to admit it, the council wasn't quite as wrong about me as I let on. In the long run, the oath of a Freespacer won't be enough. Nor however, would the oath of a questor have been any better. I'm simply getting too good at manipulating things. Sooner or later I'd find a way around any such limitations. Eventually I'll become so powerful that I'll start to think of myself as some kind of god. That is what frightens me more than the risks involved in trying to modify my nanite's hard coded compliance to the nanosymbiotic pact."

The Captain snorted.

"And just how is suddenly becoming the most powerful being in the universe 'today', supposed to solve 'that' problem?" the Captain demanded.

"Because," Jake replied. "The modifications I intend to make are not designed to release my nanites from the limitations imposed by the nanosymbiotic pact nor myself from the obligations imposed by the Freespacer's oath. But rather I intend to plug a few loopholes in both, with specific additional hard coded limitations. Along with reinforcing the oath by simultaneously embracing a rigid code of honor. Both of which must fit snugly inside the existing loopholes in such a way that they mesh with the current code, without actually violating it.

You see there are certain limitations that I must somehow impose on myself while I still can, while I'm still me. It is something I must do. But it is not something I can do alone. So I must beg of you, to either help me become what I must. Or for the love of every living being in the entire multiverse possessing a measure of free will, including your beloved Nearkin. You must completely destroy me, while you still have the power to do so."

"And that is why," Jake continued before the Captain could argue the point. "We will need to take a long side trip like you suggested. We shall need to go the the very brink of the event horizon of a certain supermassive black hole. One that is no longer surrounded by a galaxy full of star systems. For if this all goes wrong, it will require the combined power of such a singularity and that of a transdimensional rift big enough to swallow the singularity whole, to ensure that not even one of the enhanced nanites escape."

For the next three subcycles Jake and the Captain simply stared at each other. Neither made the slightest sound nor gesture. It was the Captain who finally broke the silence.

"You do of course realize," he capitulated. "Just how restrictive such an oath would have to be in order to contain the power you've described."

"Yes," Jake agreed. "But in order to get the embryonic symbiont to embrace it, the oath will have to allow us to defend ourselves."

"You will also need the flexibility to make many mundane decisions about daily life," the Captain added. "It is only with regard to your ability to impose your will upon other sentient beings that we must restrict you further than the Freespacer's oath does already. It will take much forethought to form a code of honor that not only does the job without violating the existing nanosymbiotic pact but is also something that both you and your AI-symbiont can live with.

For if this works at all, you will have a nearly unbreakable link to your AI. Which would also become more powerful than before. So it will also need to be bound by this code of honor. It is perhaps a good thing that the anomaly designated as Omega7 in the guild database, is so very far away. I presume of course that, 'that' is where you intend that we should do this thing. Anyway, we will need most of the required subjective time of such a journey to ensure that we get the details of that code, exactly right. It will be such a complex web that we shall have to weave for you.

Tell me Jake, are you really prepared to live the nightmare that such an existence could become?"

"Not really sir," Jake admitted. "Nevertheless, do so I must."

***

The Captain had never been more proud of his Nearkin. Every single one of them wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of their lives sharing Jake's last voyage aboard. Yet once they understood the benefit they could give him by allowing their Hypersleep chambers to be slightly modified. So that their dreams could be networked and manipulated to provide a way to test the details of the limitations they intended to impose upon Jake, his AI and his nanites. The Nearkin went from trying to insist on turning the entire voyage into one long multi-generational 'awakening', to nearly all of them seeking to maximize their hypersleep time. Though, of course, those who did spend any time awake wanted to spend most of it in Jake's company.

The resulting proposed honor code had seemed perfect to Jake and the Captain several times. Before the Nearkin's dreams stopped highlighting more potential flaws that required fine tuning. Some of the time spent waiting for the Nearkin's dreams to find those flaws was put to good use transforming Jake's shuttle into a multi-layered containment chamber. As well as the building of a special launch cannon that could send it into the heart of the Omega7 singularity. In which case, the outermost layer of the containment system would employ a synthuel powered subspatial jump also aimed at the exact center of Omega7. At the same precise moment of subspatial insertion, a modified sidereal portalization circuit would attempt to simultaneously open a portal to the same coordinates. Meanwhile, also at the exact same time a high intensity surge of alternating electrical current would be sent through the synthuel tank, even as it's primary stabilization field was disengaged.

In addition to which, the Resonance would start generating an intense gravitational signal jamming field. Specifically designed to prevent any gravitational optimizer from successfully manipulating Omega7's gravitational field. This carefully choreographed pattern for total annihilation, was to be instantly activated if the Captain couldn't determine that the symbiotic conversion of Jake's nanite's had gone exactly as planned.

It was a choice the Captain would need to make quickly. Because if they only succeeded in damaging his nanites copy of the original nanosymbiotic pact, rather than successfully merging it with the new 'one of a kind' honor code, then the nanites could conceivably go rogue. Since Jake's nanites would then be even more unstoppable than any of standard guild design, it would be difficult to contain them for long. If even one of them were to escape the confinement field, it would threaten the very existence of all life, everywhere.

On the other hand, if the Captain decided that they were in fact successful, then the containment systems would be deactivated. Its components could then be used as raw material to reconstruct an improved version of Jake's shuttle. Which would still be launched, as the Resonance powered it's way away from the singularity. Though instead of being sent into Omega7, it would be launched into an elliptical orbital path around it. A path from which it could use the singularities mass to enable an abnormal subspatial jump with a far greater range than normally possible. This would make it impossible for even guild technology to track his course as he began his planned exile from guild controlled space.

To facilitate this project, Jake issued to the Resonance, a special license to use some of Hillside's restricted technology. This license came with strong limitations on what information could be shared with anyone in general and with the guild itself in particular. This included certain details of how Hillside's sidereal portal technology worked. It also restricted certain details of the synthuel technology. Which would enable the Resonance to accumulate far more energy than otherwise possible.

That would prove very useful in the event that they didn't actually have to destroy Omega7. Because then the Resonance would need most of that power to push itself out of the singularity's massive gravity well.

It was a very formal occasion. The Nearkin had seen to that. There were few words spoken but the depth of sorrow found in the music they wrote and played for the occasion was positively heartrending. The Captain decided it was a very good thing that he had long ago insisted that every single crewman aboard, including himself, learn to perform their duties with their eyes closed. Because their eyes might as well have been closed since not a one of them could see a thing through the involuntary tears the sad music evoked.

When the concert was over, the Captain spoke the only words that were to be spoken.

"You honor us Jake with your courage," The Captain began. "I, your Captain and the Nearkin, your crewmates, all of us bid that you accept into your heart our profound love. Know that you will live in our hearts for so long as our hearts exist. We shall have no peace in our hearts until we know that you are safely on your way to your chosen place of exile. We will not burden your heart with much speaking. We are confident that our music said it all better than any words could ever do so. Instead we shall honor you with our silence."

Then the Captain set aside the scroll he had quoted from memory. At which point the Captain and all of his Nearkin, suddenly saluted Jake. They all held to a rigid posture of attention while Jake returned their salute. Then he eventually turned and entered the isolation chamber and activated the preprogrammed sequence.

First half of Jake's prime nanites each constructed, temporary dedicated function medical nanites, to fulfill any cellular bio-dependency functions they normally performed. Meanwhile the other half of his prime nanites nearly depleted Jake's personal reserves of nano-morphic material. As they remotely constructed enough special function micro-robotic augmentation nano-shells. To provide each one of the first half of his prime nanites with personal transition vehicles. Each complete with built in power tools, especially designed for working with trans-spatial resonance grade crystal. By the time the nano-shells were ready for activation, the first half of Jake's prime nanites were in position to individually imprint and inhabit their new disposable shells.

At this point the inner isolation chamber began generating a special carrier wave. Which was designed to cause the crystal to gently resonate. At a frequency that made it's molecular structure somewhat malleable. While at the same time providing the nano-shells, with a powerful external power source. The shells descended on the the crystal and each one in turn locked onto an individual crystalline molecule. Then it used the power of the energy stream to isolate that molecule within it's own sidereal bubble universe. While also maintaining the molecule's relative position within the crystals resonance field. As each layer of microscopic bubble universe formed, the crystalline layer beneath it became accessible to the nano-shells manipulation.

These nano-shells were anchored in a pattern of 6 sets of 4 of these bubble universe. That were manipulated until they were arranged in a cohesive tetrahexahedral pattern. Which could be folded inwards upon themselves. Thus forming an inverted cluster of micro-siderealities that actually occupied less physical volume than a single one of the original molecules had previously.

In this way each of Jake's prime nanites built around itself a new crystalline form. That could replace the functionality of 24 unconverted prime nanites. Each of which would have certain trans-spatial capabilities that would not have been possible any other way. Thus even though only one out of every six prime nanites actually returned to Jake's body his effective prime nanite strength increased fourfold. Of course that includes the one in six return from the 2nd wave consisting of the other half of his existing prime nanites. Which the returning enhanced nanites provided with enough nano-shells for them to go build their own sidereal bubble clusters.

The remaining 83% of the bubble clusters continued subsuming the crystal matrix core into one big super cluster of interconnected bubble universe. With each occupied sidereality bubble linked by a shared virtual tetrahexahedral facet with the entire super cluster of unoccupied ones. This was in addition to the one in six shared facets that also linked each of the 17% of the bubble clusters that had returned to Jake's body with the five that did not return.

As the supra-tetrahexahedron was slowly folded in on itself the inner resonance was slowly adjusted by minute alterations in the relative positions of all the original crystalline molecules within the virtual matrix of the resonant pattern. Until that pattern was that of Jake's brainwaves resonating within the superstructure of the wave form that would be generated by the new clone of the Star Dragon's reconstructed AI.

Then just as the entire sidereal bubble multiverse finished folding in on itself to it's final cohesive form, the AI woke up.

It was a very near thing. There were actually three possibilities. First the AI could have rejected the new reality of it's existence and simply shut down. Which it very nearly did. The deciding factor was it's acceptance of the fact that Jake's mind would at this point also shut down. The AI was too loyal to Jake to willingly permit that to happen.

The second thing that could have happened is that the virtual nanosymbiont could have lost it's grip on reality. Freeing all the new supra-nanites from the limitations imposed by the nanosymbiotic pact. Which would result in something so dangerous. That if the Captain had even the slightest notion that it had occurred, he was honor bound to activate the destruct sequence. Which would use the power of a collapsing supermassive singularity to destroy the very subatomic particles that Jake and his containment system consisted of. That too was a very near thing.

Ultimately however, the Captain decided that Jake had succeeded and instead activated the launch of the core module of Jake's new ship. Which Jake had already named 'DragonStar'. Then the Captain and his Nearkin crew sang a farewell to Jake, as his new ship began it's slingshot departure orbit around the intact, silent, starving monster, known as Omega7. Then the Captain wondered if he would ever be absolutely sure that he had really made the right decision.

Chapter 42 LosLand Revisited

The old seeker emerged from the waters of the Risp in almost the exact same spot. As the ancient legends said he had first appeared to help their first king to build the stronghold between the falls, that became his castle. The seeker had planned on following an old goat trail up the side of the Thunderhead mountain until he reached a concealed entrance to the tunnel system, which lead to the chamber behind the falls. Yet he had hardly taken three steps before he was challenged by a well concealed watchman.

"That's far enough old one," the watchman said. "My orders say your going to have to go the other way that I might present you to the captain of the guard."

The old seeker stiffened for a moment.

"Are you sure your orders apply to very old men?" the old man asked as he slowly turned to face him.

"I'm sorry to inconvenience you," the watchman replied. "But nobody comes here without being presented to my captain, per order of the King." Then as he got a better look at the old seeker, the watchman added, "I'm afraid the orders are quite specific sir. There are to be no exceptions."

The old seeker sighed.

"Very well, I'll go and tell your captain of your vigilance," he promised.

"Thank you for understanding sir!" the watchman replied. "And I'm sure you also understand that I'll be accompanying you to him."

The old one sighed again.

"Would it serve if I were to pledge on my hearts honor?" the old man inquired. "That I will make presenting myself to your captain my first order of business when I get there?"

"Please take no offense sir," The watchman answered. "I doubt not that your word is true. That being so I'm honor bound to provide any honored guests, such as yourself, with an 'Honor Guard' lest mischance should befall you."

"It's just that I was looking forward to smelling a few flowers," the old seeker tried again. "And poking at a few holes in the ground along the way."

"Then it is certain that I'd be remiss in my duties," the watchman asserted. "Not to escort you, so that I may report any such unplugged holes in these grounds."

"You act as though you think you know who I am," the old seeker observed.

"Yes!" the watchman confirmed. "I suspect that I have a fairly good idea of who you might be. Shall we go? You may take your time if you wish sir. Your even welcome to smell a few flowers along the way."

When they reached bottom of the path they were met by a full squad of guardsmen, all in their best dress uniforms. A tall solidly built blond man wearing a captain's uniform spoke up immediately.

"Welcome learned one, welcome to Twin Falls," the captain said.

He then indicated by gesture, that the seeker should follow him as he turned around and led the way to an unadorned brick building on the outskirts of the town. The inside of the building was comfortably furnished. The seeker was quickly escorted to a room with a table and a few chairs. There was a fireplace in the far corner of the room, in which a well tended fire burned. The captain gestured towards the chairs at the table as he spoke.

"Do feel free to sit down and make your self comfortable while we wait for word of the kings pleasure, learned one," the captain offered. "It is however, uncertain how long we shall have to wait. So in the event that you are thirsty or hungry, I bid that you but let one of the guardsman know. They will be glad to fetch for you fresh water or to brew a cup of tea from the kettle hanging over the fire. And as your nose might have already told you, the other kettle has in it a most excellent soup."

It was in fact only a short while later that a guard entered to room to announce the King's presence.

"Behold, 'King Otmer, the rebuilder' enters the room," he loudly proclaimed.

The captain was instantly on his feet and was standing at 'parade dress' attention, before the guard had quite finished the word 'behold'. As the king entered the room the old seeker, who had remained where he was seated, spoke up.

"Ahhh there you are, old friend," the seeker said. "I was wondering when you would show up. Though I thought you preferred the name Darg?"

Then he promptly scooped another spoonful of soup into his mouth. The king, who was resplendently dressed in a well tailored fine leather jerkin with matching leggings and boots, that looked somewhat more suitable for a well heeled woodsman than for a king, smiled warmly.

"Oh do remain seated old friend," King Otmer said. "No matter how much it distresses the good captain here. I trust that you find the soup delicious? It's my own recipe you know. And yes, most of my dearest friends still call me Darg.

It's been nearly two years since you tasked me with rebuilding all of LosLand, as you call it. I think you'll be happy with my progress."

As he said that, much to the obvious distress of the captain of the guards, king Otmer picked up a large cup from the fireplace mantel and using it like a ladle, scooped a cupful of soup from the hanging kettle. Then the king unceremoniously seated himself, not at the head of the table but directly across from his guest.

"I have a feeling that the 'good captain', as you called the worthy gentleman here, who seems about to pass out if he doesn't resume breathing," the old seeker replied. "Has grown used to being distressed while in thy Lordship's presence." Then with a gesture towards the officer in question he added, "Perhaps it would be best if you invited him to sit down, old friend, he's beginning to look a bit weak in the knees."

At this point the captain, who's pallor was changing from a pale gray, to a light pink, could contain himself no more.

"That wouldn't be appropriate sir!" he protested. "My lord may choose to ignore proper etiquette, but I cannot."

Then with a chuckle and a sideways look at the king, the old seeker spoke directly to the captain.

"Nonsense, my good man!" the seeker contested. "You ignored 'proper etiquette' yourself when you spoke without waiting for your kings leave."

The reddish hue that had begun to show in the captain's face disappeared as his pallor suddenly became that of white ash.

"But!" the king interrupted. "He has had my leave to speak his mind, from the moment I gave you permission to vex him by remaining seated." Then speaking directly to the captain the king added, "Seriously captain, I know my lack of respect for etiquette and protocol does vex thee. But you also know full well that you have had my permission to not only speak up in my presence. But to even, on occasion, to interrupt me. From the moment I gave you permission to call me Darg, nearly half a year ago. Besides, even if I hadn't, we were both testing you so strongly, that it wouldn't be reasonable to expect you to contain yourself." At this the captains pallor began to return to it's normal hue and he returned to his stance of formal parade attention. At this, the king sighed.

"Actually captain, I have much to discus with my friend here," his King explained. "I was about to dismiss the guards. So that we might talk freely. But I trust your discretion and value your opinion enough that I invite you to stay. As well as to share in the discussion as among three friends. Can you do this captain?"

"If that is your order sir," the captain replied. "Then I can do aught but to try. Though it is difficult for me to so lightly set aside the fact of your kingship.

Still, since you invited me to speak my mind. Is it wise to so readily dismiss the guards? I can assure you that there isn't one of them who would breath a word of anything they might overhear."

"That is most certainly true," the old seeker interjected. "But it is most certain that the things we will talk about will contain some things that would only serve to frighten them. Besides, if 'I' intended to do your king any harm, neither your guards nor indeed even your entire army, would be able to stop me."

When he heard this, the good captain's pallor once again turned ash white. At the sight of which, king Otmer sighed again.

"Oh do set your mind at ease captain," King Otmer insisted. "There is precious little danger of that. My friend here has already saved my life so many times that I've quite lost count of them."

"Yes please be at ease," the old seeker added. "If it will help, I hereby pledge on my word of honor, that I've no intention of harming your king."

"Yes!" the Captain responded. "Actually sir, if you are indeed who I think you are, then 'your' word of honor does in fact help to ease my mind on the subject." Then almost as an after thought he added, "I wonder if you would be so kind as to further pledge that should your intentions change in that regard, you will make it a point of honor to advise me of that fact? And then grant me the opportunity to defend my king?"

The old seeker chuckled at this.

"Very well captain," the seeker pledged. "On my word of honor, 'done' and 'done', with the provision that you sit down and at least have a drink with us."

At this the captain ordered the other guards to withdraw from their kings presence and see instead to the buildings outer defenses. Which order was complied with only after the sergeant observed the king nod his approval.

"Now that we are alone captain," the king said, once the captain was the only guardsman left in the room. "Please consider yourself as free to speak your mind. As though we were just three off duty friends of equal rank."

"I will try my king," the captain replied.

"Good enough," the King assessed. "In which case please do. Also, at least whenever we are sufficiently alone. If you would speak as a friend, call me 'Darg'. Please also tell me if you would mind, if I likewise called you by your given name, 'Hathmer'?"

"Again, I will try, my...Darg," the captain stumbled over referring to his king so casually. "I think I can handle you calling me by my name whenever you would speak to me as a friend, rather than as a captain of the guard. But in that case, would you mind calling me just 'Hath', as do all of those few that I count as my true friends?"

"That I can do Hath," replied Darg. "Indeed, let this serve as a signal between us. Whenever either of us would speak to the other as a friend. If ever you call me 'king' or 'Otmer', I will know you are speaking with respect to your duty as a captain of my guard. Rather than as my friend. Likewise whenever you address me as Darg, I will know that you are speaking as a friend. In like manner, whenever I speak to you as a friend rather than as your king, I shall call you 'Hath'. Whereas, anytime I address you by your rank, you will know that I expect you to treat whatever I'm saying as the utterance of your king.

Will that work for you Hath?"

"I think so, Darg," Hathmer replied somewhat stiffly. "Though, if you really intend this to be an ongoing arrangement between us, I would suggest that both of us use discretion in that we only speak as friends in private. It wouldn't do for my guardsmen to notice so large a lapse in etiquette between us."

"Agreed." was all Darg said, as he walked over to the liquor cabinet that occupied the far corner of the room.

When he got there he quickly filled three glasses with spiced rum. Then he deftly gripped two of them with his right hand and picked up the third with his left. Next Darg quickly returned to the table, where he set one glass before the old seeker and handed another to captain Hathmer. Then holding the last glass aloft, Darg proclaimed a toast.

"To friendship!" Darg called out.

Then he drank his rum in what seemed one long gulp. Barely giving either of his friends time to respond, "friendship!" and begin drinking down their own rum.

"Now, my dear seeker," Darg began. "Let me tell you how I've used this past year and the knowledge I've gained through the crystal disk you gave me, to make great strides in rebuilding my world."

At this point they were interrupted by the sound of the watchtower bell. As it rang three short tones and was then muted so suddenly, that the third strike didn't get to reverberate. After a short pause it rang three more times, with similar timing. Except that the last strike was allowed to continue reverberating until it faded out naturally.

"Speaking of which," Darg explained. "That bell code means that our river boat has been sighted returning from it's trading trip down the river." Then with a sigh, Darg continued, "Which means that we won't have as much time for this as I would like. Before I will need to resume my kingly duties and preside over the dockside festivities that will soon begin. But for the moment I'd like to tell you that when I first returned to Twin Falls, I found that King Quavlon had taken seriously ill. There was much turmoil in the kingdom because he had neither sired nor named an heir to the throne. But armed with the documents and the ring you gave me, I was soon ushered in to see him as he lay upon his deathbed. Upon sight of my ring he roused himself to ask, If I was really the same Otmer that his father had thought should sit upon the throne. I told him that due, in no small way, to the magic of the ancient seeker of legend. I was in fact that self same Otmer. He looked into my eyes and declared loudly that he could see that I spoke the truth. Then he proclaimed with his very dying breath, to all those present, 'Behold thy new King, Otmer.' When he fell back against his pillows. I saw the light leave his eyes." Darg shook his head.

"You know Hath," Darg decided to explain. "The old Seeker here is probably the only man alive, who is even more aware than yourself. Of how strongly I did not want this job. But I knew that if I didn't accept it, Twin Falls would soon have far too much inner turmoil. To be of much help in the rebuilding of our world. It also made some things much simpler. For I now had all the resources of the kingdom at my command. Including a few that nobody alive at Twin Falls knew existed. But it also made the idea of gallivanting around the Midland wastelands more difficult."

As he spoke, Darg poured himself a second glass of rum. Of which he took a sip and turned to look the old seeker in the eyes.

"Hath here was one of a select few," the king explained. "Who accompanied me, under an oath of silence, through the tunnel behind the falls. All the way to the other side of mountains. Where I taught them how to capture and train woolbeasts. As well as how to build and sail our new riverboats. Indeed he was of invaluable assistance as we established an advance party of new riverman. Who even now seek to establish a trading route along the West river.

I can also tell you that we had a bit of fun, Hath and I. Getting a pair of woolbeasts through the tunnel to this side of the Gray Hills. By which time, the 'royal yacht' I'd commissioned the day I took the job, was ready for launching. Unlike most seaworthy vessels, the good ship Gwanon, included a modification to the woolbeast powered paddle wheels your riverboat design uses. I'd like to claim the design concept was all mine.

But the truth is that I took much advantage, of the processing power and data, that Jake woke up within the portal system that you built here so long ago."

Darg paused to observe the slight tension that the old seeker failed to completely conceal when he learned that Darg appeared 'fully' aware of the hidden capabilities of the local portal link.

"We shall have something to discuss about that later my friend," the seeker promised. "For now though, please just tell me you haven't told anyone else about it?"

"No!" Darg replied. "I've not told anyone a thing about it old friend. In fact, Hath here is the first person, outside of 'Hillside' personnel, to even hear me mention it at all. Speaking of which," King Otmer focused his attention on Hath. "I know you must be curious to know what I was just referring to 'captain'. But I'm afraid that it's unlikely that you will get to know much more about it. I'm also afraid that I must charge you to consider it a 'deep secret of the realm'. And as such, never repeat a word of anything about it. That you have so far nor may yet someday learn, to anyone. Except myself, this old seeker here and any others that he or I myself may someday tell you to include within the 'secret's circle'."

Then without waiting for the captain to acknowledge his understanding of the royal order he'd just been given, Darg continued where he'd left off.

"The Gwanon was basically designed to be like a fast schooner," he told the old seeker. "With a pair of somewhat narrow paddle wheels in the stern. These wheels, one on each side of the rudder, are mounted on a frame that can be hoisted clear of the water. So that they won't get in the way when she is under sail. They were designed to provide just enough thrust, from a single well trained woolbeast, to claw it's way up the Bluefin under it's own power. At least that is, to the lower docks of the trading facility that I've had constructed at the downstream edge of the kingdom. Where the river is still deep enough to accommodate her draught.

Anyway, the paddle wheels made it easy to get to the more navigable lower section of the river. Where we switched to sail power and made good time to the sea. I must say that the few real sailors I'd hired to help me train my crew did an admirable job. At least the crew didn't embarrass me when, about 40 days out, we got the attention of a small flotilla of Brethren ships.

They were sufficiently impressed with the Gwanon's innovative design that it didn't take long to get an escort to the current gathering place of the Brethren council. Of all the people I've talked to about the need to rebuild the Midland infrastructure, they took very little convincing. I guess they were already feeling the pinch from the lack of viable trade moving upstream from some of their best port cities. Anyway they not only accepted my right to join the council, but they ceded to me authority over any new Brethren 'river based' shipping enterprises. They allowed that the Brethren would also grant me nearly unlimited credit. For the transport and construction of riverboat kits to as many of Woodland's river systems, as I think worth starting up riverboat operations in."

Darg finished the remains of his second drink in another gulp. Then he wiped his mouth with his sleeve, causing Captain Hathmer to wince at his breach in etiquette and proceeded to announce, "And that's all the time we have for that! We need to start making our way to the docks. So I can see how well we fared in the last round of downriver trading."

King Otmer kept to a busy schedule. It was soon obvious to the old seeker that having time for a private chat with a friend or even an honored guest, was a rare exception to the norm. It wasn't until late evening that the King was able to engineer a private meeting with him. They were seated in a private conference room deep within the castle's keep, when King Otmer banished his guards to the outer hall.

"Thank you for your patience," Darg said as soon as the last guard closed the door on his way out. "It's been obvious that you want to talk about something you couldn't bring yourself to say in front of Hath. Well now's your chance."

The old seeker smiled. Then he took his first sip of the now tepid tea. Which had been hot when it was placed in front of him and began talking.

"Yes I suppose it is at that my friend," the seeker admitted. "The subject is of course that portal link of yours. I'm real glad you've kept it's capabilities under wraps. It is crucial that you continue to do so. As you already seem to know however, this particular portal is actually much more than a link. What you don't know is that there exists under the mountain a far more complex set of tunnels and chambers than you realize. There is in fact a complex that somewhat resembles the one at Hillside. And it is my intention to activate it for use as my new secret base of operations."

This caused Darg to frown.

"I'm not so sure that I think any of my subjects could handle anything like what I saw at Hillside." the king postulated.

"Good!" the old seeker interrupted. "Because I've no intention of running anything like that here. I said I intended it to be a secret location. I've no intention of staffing the place with anybody from anyplace. Nor telling anyone else a thing about it. No the fact is, my friend, if you hadn't already found out that the portal is actually much more than a mere link, I'd not even have told you. But as it is, I'm not so sure I could have kept you from getting suspicious when your old friend starts popping in and out of your life again. You already know that I can't expect any more privacy from the guild at Hillside. So, with what you learned about portals there, you might have tried to find my new lair. In so doing, you might have inadvertently let the cat out of the bag."

"So, it's to be like that again is it?" Darg asked, with a slight edge to his voice. "I'll never know when you'll suddenly show up. And of course, you'll just expect to be welcome whether you've been gone twenty days, or twenty years?"

The old seeker sighed.

"Now Darg, you know I never meant it to be like that," he explained to his old friend. "But while I can't quite promise that I won't sometimes be away for a few years. Most of the time it's much more likely to be just a few days at a time. At least for the next hundred years or so. But, I'm afraid that when I am here, I'll be needing to spend more time in my lair than in one of your guestrooms."

"Why do you suppose it is that 'that' doesn't surprise me?" Darg asked acidly.

"I didn't say I wouldn't spend some time visiting Darg," the old seeker promised. "In fact, even when I am squirreled away in my lair, we will be able to stay in touch via your crystal disk."

Darg sighed sadly.

"Oh I suppose I'll have to settle for what I can get old friend," Darg allowed. "But if your going to be popping in and out of the castle, we're going to have to spin a few tales about secret passages and such. Perhaps even build one or two of them, for my guards to discover. Otherwise your going to give them fits."

The old seeker chuckled.

"Build you say?" he inquired. "No need of that. There are plenty of them already. It would perhaps be best to let them find a few of them and then to actually use one or two of the more mundane ones. There are also a few special passages, that we should perhaps teach a few of the most trusted of them, to regard as 'Secrets of the Realm'. So they won't waste too much time wondering where I suddenly went. Or came from as the case may be. But even so, I expect some of them will still go a little crazy trying to catch me at it."

***

It took a carefully planned sequence of subspatial jumps, sidereal transfers and a very careful application of the Star Dragon's inverse temporal dilation based long range Stardrive. To ensure that the Guild didn't detect his presence so deeply within their operational territory. Doing so was risky but there was an alliance he would need to forge that he simply couldn't get anywhere else.

Prime David Miller had been in the bunker like control room within the bridge pylon for less than a minute, when he keyed in a short sequence that caused the access door to slam shut. Then he slowly turned his chair to face the empty space between him and the door before calmly speaking in a quiet voice.

"What madness brings you here?" he inquired.

"I guess that my cloaking field isn't as good as I thought," Jake said as he shimmered into existence before his friend. "Thanks for activating your security protocol in any case. I couldn't risk decloaking until you did. After all even though your government has a high regard for me, if they detected my presence, the guild would soon hear of it. And that just wouldn't be good."

"Which is why I called it madness," David protested. "Now, if you please, explain it to me."

"Sure will," Jake promised. "Right after you tell me how you knew I was here."

"Oh that, well to tell you the truth I wasn't quite sure," David explained. "But tell me something. You've were hovering around me for nearly half an hour, before I came out here, right?"

"More like an hour and a half," Jake acknowledged. "But I noticed you getting all fidgety, about 15 minutes before you stood up and walked to the bunker. Why was that?"

"I noticed the room temperature you see," David explained. "It had risen more than my body heat could account for. Then I realized that it was precisely the temperature I'd expect if another person was in the room. I spent a few anxious minutes thinking about that. Until I reasoned that the fact that I was still breathing, indicated that whoever was there didn't intend me any harm. Since you are the only one of my friends capable of such stealth... I guess it took me about fifteen minutes to realize that you evidently didn't think the anti-eavesdropping circuitry in my study was good enough. So I came out here. Then after checking my environmental logs for any other discrepancies I sealed the bunker.

Mind telling me how it could be that your body heat didn't register on my sensors for the first hour you claim you were hanging around?"

"Well that figures," Jake said. "My stealth systems do try to protect me from thermal detection but by the time I got to your study, the thermal compensators were already on overload. An hour after that, I had to switch my thermal stealth subsystem to standby mode.

The madness that brought me here is like this. I need your help to do something devious, that neither the guild nor your government can ever find out about."

David simply looked at him with a blank expression for a few seconds.

"And the specifics of this criminal conspiracy would be?" he eventually asked.

"Well for starters," Jake explained. "I'm gonna need your help to modify some restricted guild technology and deploy it under the canopy of a certain daggerthorn tree. Where I'm going to have to use it to spend about 20 days in undisturbed hibernation. After which, with any luck, I'll have to hang around until the daggerthorn presents me with some very special and potentially dangerous seedpods. Which I will then secretly export to a certain planet that must remain nameless. Where their descendants may just alter the course of human destiny."

David shook has head slowly from side to side, then he shrugged.

"I know one thing for certain," David asserted. "If Judith ever finds out that you were here on Slowlane, without spending some time with her..."

"I wish I could," Jake interrupted. "But I don't think she would quite understand just how dangerous a secret it is, that I'm asking you to keep."

"You underestimate her Jake," David insisted. "But it is a burden I wouldn't want her to carry. She has a hard enough time sleeping as it is."

It took considerable planning on David's part to arrange for Elisabeth to deliver a large oblong crate along with the usual supplies. Not to mention making sure that her stepfather was too busy with other work to come along with her. He met Elisabeth at his private pier.

"Hello Elisabeth," David said as she tied up the barge. For her part Elisabeth just waved. "Tell me Elisabeth," David eventually continued. "Did that lamb's leg I ordered make it to your farm in time for this shipment?"

"Sure did prime," Elisabeth replied. "A right lean piece of meat it is too."

"Good!" David said. "Would you mind bringing the skid with the lamb up the ramp right away? And be sure to call Judith's attention to it before she starts fixing something else for dinner."

Elisabeth chuckled.

"Consider it done," she said as she slipped the manual pallet jack under the appropriate skid.

While Elisabeth was busy pulling the produce skid up the ramp, David stepped onto the barge and untied the protective tarp covering the oblong crate. He lifted the edge to peek under it in such a way as to cause the edge of the tarp to extend over the water. Where even though he was looking under the tarp at the time, he scarcely noticed the slight ripple. As the side of the crate was pulled open and it's contents were switched with something outwardly identical, that had been hidden under the water. He did this very carefully because one never knew for sure when some security prime might choose to use satellite monitoring to check on his safety. It wouldn't do for them to notice the switch.

"Hey!" Elisabeth suddenly yelled from behind him. "That's my job!"

Then just as suddenly she was on the barge beside David. At which point Elisabeth firmly pulled the edge of the tarp from David's grip and quickly re-secured it's lashings.

"Pardon me for yelling at you prime Miller," Elisabeth pleaded. "But you should know better than to loosen the tarp on such a fancy crate as this. At least until I've got it safely on the pier."

It actually took nearly 25 days in the specially modified hibernation chamber for Jake to make the daggerthorn cluster understand what he wanted to do. Then it was another 3 days before he was sure it had agreed. His dreams had hinted at some of the improvements he thought he could make with a bit of genetic tinkering. He had also dreamed about it taking a very long time before he would find a branch of humanity who would be receptive of the idea he had shared with the daggerthorn. He had even warned that it might be that his tinkering would fail. That he feared that none of the seedpods he was asking for would survive.

He also dreamed about the far reaching long term prospects that success could bring their descendants. Along with those of any humans he could get to embrace a symbiotic relationship with them.

Eventually Jake left Slowlane behind him. As he slowly got himself and the seedpods, as far out of the guild's active territory. As the Captain and his Nearkin thought he had already gone. There he eventually found an 'uninhabited' terraformed planet. There wasn't much left of the 'colony ship' that had sent down the robotic terraforming equipment. It had evidently been waiting for the planet to be ready for human habitation. When something went catastrophically wrong with it's power systems. None of it's human crew had survived the explosion.

It was a place where he could safely tinker with his daggerthorn without fear that a mistake on his part could spell disaster for any human inhabitants. Because there were no humans there. He built a secret base where he began a long series of experiments. He was well aware that it could take more than a few million years to effect the kind of changes he was attempting to make. He also knew that even if he was successful, finding a group of humans who would actually embrace the experiment would likely take even longer.

It would be several thousand galactic standard years before his next foray into regions known to be frequented by guild vessels. The occasions when he did so were relatively few and far between. Even so he had had to face more than a few questors in personal combat. Before he really embraced his hermit like existence. Then it was that he seemed to disappear from all human awareness and became to most little more than a half remembered myth. During which time, the technologies routinely employed to travel the space ways by the majority of Freespacers, had changed significantly.

It had started with a successful misinformational campaign by the guild that exaggerated the danger of depending on synthuel based power systems. Which they combined with the release of a high capacity energy sink system under the same terms as the Free Space Accord. This effectively put an end to the proliferation of synthuel drones. Making it easier for the guild to locate the ones Jake used. It also meant that it took longer for jump ships to 'charge up' for their next jump.

Then some Freespacer genius invented a way to fold space itself. The new technology had nearly twice the range of the jump ship technology that Jake had licensed for Freespacer use.

It took a very long time for Freespacers to expand their territory beyond the borders of guild controlled space but the guild itself had effectively stopped growing. Meanwhile the Freespacers became less worried about being able to travel all the way back to the home galaxy where the guild still maintained it's strongest presence. Few of the outlying edge of so called Freespacers still identified with the actual fraternal order of Free Spacers that Jake had pledged to. It wasn't like the old days when all the accessible space was essentially regulated by a single powerful civilization. Even so mankind continued to spread across the universe, gradually getting closer to Jake's secret base of operations.

Chapter 43 a shadow of hope

Captain Wilber Rivermon had a problem. Worse, he was running out of options. His vessel, 'The Starskewer' had been severely crippled by the initial weapons burst from one of the two marauding dreadnought class pirate ships. That now had it tightly held in the mutual grips of their primary object manipulator field arrays. There was no doubting their intent.

They would briefly scan the Starskewer. Then if there wasn't anybody on board that was unlucky enough to be worth special attention. They would slowly increase both the particle attractor and the particle repulsor field settings. Until what little remained of their defense screen failed. Then the pirates would be able to easily tear any worthwhile cargo from her hold as they began cutting the hapless ship into it's component parts. Scavenging anything of marketable value as the hard cold vacuum of space accounted for anyone still onboard. Then when the Starskewer had been reduced to slag. The pirate's junior cadets would get to use any lifepods found in the vicinity for target practice. There wouldn't be any survivors. Worse still they would simply get away with it.

Unless the captain did something crazy. So crazy that only a madman could even imagine that anyone could possibly survive it. There was no time to think about it. If he was to do anything, he would have to do it quickly. He did have one advantage though. The pirates had no way to know that he had already disabled the automatic control system overrides before they blasted the warpguide assembly. He had done so in preparation to recalibrating the warp field generator. This meant that he did have a slight chance of actually engaging the warp generator before they noticed that he could still turn it on.

Most likely, he wouldn't live long enough to know if the warp generator got to fully initialize. Or if the pirates detected their peril in time to stop him. Which was too bad. He would have liked the satisfaction of knowing for sure that his Starskewer had managed to annihilate the two dreadnoughts, as it became the focus of an unstable fold in the fabric of space. He did not expect that the Starskewer would be able to gain sufficient control over the process to drop out of the warp field in time.

The unstable fold would of course, assuming it was successfully generated, reduce everything within the vicinity of it's point of inception to subatomic particles. The dreadnought's only chance would be to completely destroy the Starskewer before the warp field matured enough to begin to fold space. Because without the warpguide assembly to shape the inner structure of the warp field at it's heart, the fold itself would fluctuate wildly until either the unfocused control field collapsed and everything within the focal zone became a small short lived singularity, at the center of where space was warped into itself. Or it would complete the process of generating a wormhole. Which under the circumstances would most likely only exist as a relatively short range phenomenon.

In that unlikely event, there was little that could be done to control the essentially random distance involved. Though there would then be some possibility that he might be able to select the direction to which the wormhole would extend but unless by some random fluke of fate, the warp field happened to form in the exact configuration the warpguide assembly was designed to effect. He would not have time to do more than point his ship at the nearest star system and hope that they didn't wind up inside the star itself.

"Zap it!" he said as he threw the power system's override control to maximum.

Then he attempted to manually tune the unstable warp field into a pattern that would eject the Starskewer in the vicinity of the uncharted star in question. When the captain regained consciousness, he was surprised to find that he was still inside a functioning life support system. Then he noticed how little power remained to run it. He could ill afford to divert any of this power to the sensor array but he needed to know if they were within thruster range of an inhabitable world.

The image was unmistakable. The twisted and charred remains of the Starskewer was on a collision course with a small rocky planet. He needed to divert every bit of available power into converting his ship's meteoric plunge into something resembling a soft landing. He almost made it. Unfortunately the ship's overloaded inertial thruster systems and with them all inertial compensator functions, disintegrated just before 'landing' on the surface of the sea.

The Starskewer slammed into the water with such force that captain Rivermon almost lost consciousness. It was fortunate that he had kept with the traditional formality of routinely strapping himself into the command chair. He knew that most of his crew and passengers wouldn't be so lucky. The ship was now far too damaged to stay afloat long and he would have to spend most of that time just checking if any of the crew or passengers had survived the crash. There would be precious little time left to find something that could be made to float and even less time to gather provisions. He noted however, that by some twist of fate the planet's atmosphere appeared to be breathable. So no matter how poor his chances were, he was going to have to give it his very best try.

Only two of the survivors had any recollection of how they came to be adrift on a raft with a makeshift deck which was crudely fastened to a salvaged pair of partially filled cargo containers. The captain himself and senior technician George Agroman. Who distinctly remembered returning to consciousness to find his captain, holding a portable life sign detector in one hand, while he was using the other to drag him into the remains of the number 3 cargo hold.

"Ah, your awake!" the captain had said. "Good! I could use your help."

George looked around the cargo hold. Something was radically wrong. Something besides the fact that most of the light in the hold was coming in from outside of a large hole in the outer hull. Something other than the fact that the hold was about half full of water. Then suddenly he realized that the slanted 'deck' they were standing on was actually a wall. The gravity simulator had to be off line. Yet there was a sense of gravity. Then he remembered.

"The Pirates?" he asked.

"Reduced to subatomic particles," the captain replied. "But we didn't fare much better. According to my scanner we're all that's left." The captain gestured towards the four unconscious forms next to them. "Everyone else is already dead. And we won't be far behind them if we can't rig some kind of lifeboat from the debris before the Starskewer finishes sinking. Worse, we'll have to make do with what happens to be in this hold to do it. The Starskewer is slowly losing buoyancy George. A major part of what's holding her afloat is the air pocket on the other side of that door. And every time I've opened it, a gush of air has been pushed out. I'm not sure just where the water is getting into the habitat section from. But we can't afford to let any more of that air leak out."

George wasn't one to panic easily but he'd been close to loosing control when his captain asked his advice.

"About the only thing we got to make a lifeboat from," captain Rivermon began. "Are those two loose cargo pods that are floating over there. They won't be very stable out there in the waves. But I think that if we can fasten them together somehow, we might be able to use them to stabilize each other. At least enough to keep the access doors on top of the water. Our other problem is that once we have our lifeboat, I'm not sure how we're going to get it out of the hold. Big as that tear in the hull is, it's uneven. We're going to be hard pressed to get our lifeboat outside before the Starskewer drags us down with her."

Then captain Rivermon noticed the panic in his technician's eyes. So he forced his voice to sound more encouraging.

"There are a few bright spots George," he said. "The auxiliary cargo manipulator is still high and dry. I've also found a collection of emergency power packs. As well as a highly unusual collection of tools and partially disassembled equipment full of salvageable parts. All in one of those cargo pods. The other one appears to be half full of emergency provisions. I've also managed to salvage a portable plasma cutter. So we do have a slight chance George. But I can't do it by myself. I need you to snap out of it and help me get them out of here alive George."

It hadn't been easy but George had been able to adapt the auxiliary manipulator to use the nonstandard power he could feed it from the half dozen power packs he'd hooked up to it. Of course, the power wasn't fully compatible. He could only use it for a few subcyclets at a time but he'd been able to loosely attach one of the pods to a jagged piece of the hull plating that was hanging inwards from the hole in the side of the Starskewer. Then as the Captain used the plasma cutter to sever the other end of the twisted section of hull plating, that they had decided to use to connect the cargo pods together with, George used the manipulator to nudge the other pod under the other end. Then in a last burst of power, before the incompatible power burned out the control circuits, he'd been able to 'grab' the freshly cut end of the new 'deck' as the Captain finished cutting it free and to set it down gently on top of the other pod.

Once they'd done that, it was a simple matter to use the plasma cutter to punch some strategically placed holes. So that they could apply some deckbolts to securely fasten the pods to the deck. Then they had to carry the still unconscious forms of the other four survivors on board the improvised craft. They placed them inside one of the cargo pods that now served as pontoons for their "lifeboat". Then they cut away a few more jagged sections of the hull plating out of the way so they could float out through the hole in Starskewer's hull. They only just made it outside before there was a burst of air bubbles welling up inside the nearly submerged cargo hold.

A couple of subcyclets later, the Starskewer's twisted form slipped below the surface. Thus it was that George alone of those few lucky enough to survive, saw the captain collapse into a weeping heap of self recrimination and despair. George's words appeared to fall on deaf ears when he tried to tell his captain that it wasn't his fault and that he'd obviously done everything he possibly could. Then George shook his head sadly and tried to get through another way.

"Alright sir," he said in a less kindly voice. "Maybe it is your fault after all. I don't see it that way. But it could be. What I do see is that we are in trouble. We're adrift on some kind of sea and in dire need of a strong captain to see us through it. Frankly sir, the way you are now just isn't good enough. So if the vows you took when they gave you command of the Starskewer still mean anything to you. Your going to have to shake this load of self pity and remember your job. Now pull yourself together sir, before the others see you like this."
His captain just looked at him. For a brief moment George saw a haunting wounded look and perhaps a plea for mercy in his captain's eyes. Then he saw the captains expression turn to stone as his eyes burned with something closer to anger. Then, just as suddenly, his eyes became as devoid of all visible emotion and as cold as the deck plating. At that point the Captain squared his shoulders.

"That's enough!" he barked at George. Then he continued in a cold voice devoid of any perceivable emotion. "There's to be no more of that. I know my duty better than you do Mr Agroman." Then after silently staring at him for nearly a two full subcyclets, captain Rivermon's voice softened slightly. "Thank you for reminding me George."

Then the captain turned and climbed inside the cargo container to check on the others. Over the next couple of days, George rigged a mast of sorts out of some piping. He also used some tough fiberoptic wire to stitch together some shipping blankets to form a makeshift sail but the wind began to blow with such force that it threatened to capsize them. He'd had to pull in the sail. So it was that they were at the mercy of the prevailing currents and the tide as they were relentlessly driven towards the distant rocky shoreline of an island with a very foreboding appearance.

Before they got there however, something slammed into the side of one of the containers hard enough to put a dent in one of side panels of it's delicate airtight frame. A few subcyclets later, there was an impact on the other side that was severe enough to start a small leak.

"A few more hits like that sir," George said to his captain. "And one or the other of those cargo containers are going to rip wide open."

"I wouldn't be so worried about that Mr Agroman," captain Rivermon replied calmly. "As I'd be about all those rocky boulders in the surf that seem likely to grind us to bits. Before we ever make it to the damn beach."

Just then there was a severe impact on the aft end of one of the cargo containers. The force of which was sufficient to tear the container from its makeshift mounts even as it pushed the other container up into the crevice like gap, between a closely placed pair of the larger rocks. The cargo container became wedged between the boulders. The far end of the makeshift deck, which was no longer supported by the missing container, fell into the water. It's weight now pulled at the frame of the remaining container, causing some of it's seams to split partially open.

There was one small bit of good fortune however, in that no one had been in the other container. Even as George and the Captain struggled to climb up the now severely slanted piece hull plating that had served as the main deck, they saw the other container suddenly disappear beneath the waters. Then they saw a burst of air bubbles as its seals failed. Neither of them chose to think about what force could have dragged it under 'before' the seals failed, letting water replace the buoyant air. As it was, if George hadn't been such a strong man, neither of them would have made it to the remaining cargo container. Before the the mounting bolts holding the deck to it failed. Allowing the irregular piece of hull plating to slip off the edge of the boulder and into the sea.

The twisted remains of the mast swayed violently in the waves a few times before it suddenly vanished in the deeper waters. Just a stone throw from where the remaining container sat leaking water. As it's bent form was wedged between the boulders near the rocky shore. The wind and waves were still such, that no one could survive falling into the water. All they could do was to huddle inside the container and hope that the wind subsided. Before it tore them off of the rock that now held most of the cargo container just above the water line.

While they waited, George divided his time between inspecting the ever growing cracks in the metal skin of the cargo container and taking inventory of their resources. He started by taking stock of the survivors themselves. The captain, he noticed, was still horrified at the fact that of the 20 crew members and 30 passengers that had been onboard the Starskewer when the marauding pirate ships had attacked them. He had only been able to save a total of six survivors including himself. He didn't let his horror show on his face anymore. Nor in his bearing but George could see it in his eyes.

It had seemed to be a miracle, that the captain had been able to save anyone at all. Yet George knew that all the captain could see was that he had failed to save 28 passengers and 17 of his crew. A failure that would, no doubt, haunt his nightmares for the rest of his life. The captain, born 'Wilber Rivermon' on a semi-pastoral 'new colony' world. Which had chosen to selectively embrace as much pre-space age technology as could be made to be ecologically friendly. Was a tall man at 2.7 arms in height. The captain was approaching middle age at, 322 Galactic Standard years old but except for the lines around his observant gray eyes he still looked like a young man of 200.

He wore his black hair barely long enough to require grooming and had a thin close cropped mustache. That curved across his face until it passed below his ears and blended with his hair. He permitted no hair to grow in front of his ears. He was a strong and disciplined man who had managed to climb up through the ranks to become the captain of his first merchant starship. Only 30 GSY after he had disappointed his traditionalist father. By turning his back on the career his father had planned to pass on to him as a riverboat captain.

George Agroman himself, at 385 GSY, wore his shaggy blond hair as long as was permitted by the crew dress code. Which required that no strand of his hair be allowed to grow long enough to reach his eyes. Which were an unusual shade of green. He was a bit shorter than his captain. Standing just 2.25 arms tall. George was also somewhat heavier. The muscles on his stout frame had been built up helping his family run their farm. Until it was noticed that he was actually smarter than the professor who taught his science class during his first year of the prescribed 5 year stint at a pre-adult boarding school. Which was actually designed to find minds such as his while they were still young enough to teach.

The official plan was to turn him into a scientist. It was actually a good deal. He would be shipped off to one of the metropolitan regions of his technologically aggressive 'new colony' homeworld. He would actually be paid to learn. If he kept his grades up he would earn enough at school to not only afford his own private quarters and a few luxuries but he'd have enough left over to send his family enough to hire 2 or 3 farmhands to make up for his not being there to pitch in.

Even so, as much as George's brilliant mind loved to learn, especially about spacefaring technology. He much preferred to get his hands dirty, even at some boring menial task, to having his nose stuck in a book all day. So he wrote his family a letter of apology and shipped out as a deckhand on a tramp freighter. He had always wanted to get into space. Even as a small child it was his favorite dream. He soon learned however, that life on a tramp freighter wasn't all that much fun. In fact it was downright dangerous. Worse, he soon heard rumors that the crew was being sustained with substandard biotech medicine.

The same biomeds that were responsible for extending the average human lifespan, excluding accidental and other violent deaths, to nearly 800 GSY, had been standardized throughout the inhabited galaxies. With the exception of course for guild territory and some of the few remaining strongholds of the older Free Spacer clans. Where they still relied on the slightly more effective but much more expensive nanotech medpacks. Anyplace else 'standard' biomeds were readily available. So it just didn't make any sense that the ship would actually use substandard biomeds.

There were of course, some very expensive 'premium' brands that one didn't expect to see but the ordinary 'good enough' stuff wasn't so expensive that even the lower classes of backwater worlds had to do without. Using 'substandard' biomeds for any length of time had long been known to cut that 800 year life expectancy in half. Worse still substandard biomeds were often blamed for unplanned and/or unsanctioned pregnancies amongst the poorest of the poor.

George had no intention of becoming the father of an aborted fetus but like most of his age group, he found abstinence difficult. Fortunately for George, the tramp freighter's aging chief technician was always looking for able minded assistants. To do some of the more physically demanding maintenance tasks aboard the aging freighter. It wasn't long before he recognized the intelligence in his newest helper. While he wasn't exactly a kindly man, he decided to shield his useful slave from the worst of his new circumstances. He even made sure George got certified biomed supplements.

It had taken George nearly two years of hard work to learn everything the old geezer could teach him. Then he stayed on another 3 years until his mentor succumbed to the illness that was the result of nearly 500 years of binge drinking and other exotic vices. At the next port of call he jumped ship and found himself a birth on a more reputable merchant freighter. He never did much formal schooling but he rapidly gained a reputation for being able to repair anything. Whenever he could he'd pay for an equivalency engineering class and skip to the final exam. He hadn't flunked one yet.

A fact that had helped him get a spot on the Starskewer 75 GSY ago when it's new captain was looking for talented individuals to flesh out his crew for it's maiden voyage. George had a kind looking face. There was nothing in the appearance of this green eyed blond man to warn strangers that he had an explosive temper. Fortunately he had always been able to fix any of the inanimate objects that he broke from time to time as a substitute for smashing in the face of whoever had most recently ticked him off.

Another survivor they could count on was the young brown eyed beauty, Linda Trinora. This warm hearted redhead of 206 GSY, had a gorgeously curvaceous frame and who's reddish brown hair slightly exceeded the hair length limits officially permissible for female crew members, by cascading down to her shoulders. There was much more to Linda than her looks however. She was a brilliant logistics officer who could usually tell you exactly how far along, any given shipboard project was, without looking it up.

She had a knack for organizing things so well that the Starskewer's crew had enjoyed a reputation for getting the right cargo in or out, of it's hold with all the appropriate documentation in place, in less than half the time than any other freightliner. Doing so without inconveniencing her passengers. Though as organized as her professional life was. Linda had always preferred to live her personal life spontaneously. As George, a few other crewman and occasionally one or two lucky passengers, had had the good fortune to find out on a few of the occasions when she felt promiscuous. She also had a reputation for being something of a wildcat as a few unlucky souls, who hadn't thought she had a right to say 'no', had found out the hard way.

The captain had saved her neck in court, more than a few times. When some injured passenger tried to bring charges against her for assault. It was usually enough to point out that, while she and thus the Starskewer, was financially responsible for the injuries the passenger sustained. She had only been restrained from filing attempted rape charges. Because her captain had persuaded her that the criminal penalties for such an atrocity were such, that it was most likely that the civil charges would be dropped out of gratitude. If she decided to consider the whole thing a big misunderstanding. Only once had the passenger decided the jail time was worth the money his lawyer would have for him when he got out and captain Rivermon had paid that one out of his own pocket.

At 536 GSY however, Randy Luborn had a slightly rotund hairless body of 2.6 arms in height and a light brown skin complexion along with coal black eyes. He was easily the best possible resource to count among the survivors. He was just possibly the only man among the entire crew of the Starskewer who could claim greater physical strength than George. Randy was strong like a bear. He was also friendly by nature and he almost never fought. Which was a good thing, because his idea of a fight was just plain old brute force. Which meant that unless he was fighting as part of a team with someone better at it, he wasn't that hard to beat.

However, the reason George considered him the most valuable survivor, was because he was the ships cook. Not just any ships cook mind you. Randy had a reputation for being able to make anything taste good. Considering that most of the remaining foodstock, that hadn't been lost when the other container was pulled beneath the waves, was a very unappetizing collection of emergency rations. Having someone who could even make 'those rations' taste good among them, was arguably the best thing that had happened to the rest of the survivors.

Somewhat less useful in George's opinion were the two surviving passengers. There was that self-centered Mathieu Naville. Who had evidently only ever cared about one person besides himself. His wife Donelle, who unfortunately hadn't survived. This resulted in Mr Naville's normally abrasive personality becoming that of a very angry man who was looking for someone to blame for his wife's death.

When Mathieu had first woke up aboard the makeshift catamaran. He had, upon noticing his wife's absence, became rather abusive of the captain. Who he felt must not have done enough to save her. The captain had simply said that he was sorry but that she had already been dead when he fought his way to the remains of the Naville's cabin to rescue Mathieu. The captain had spared the man the gruesome description of how the unstable warp field had reduced the poor woman to a fine mist like coating of gore, that had coated the entire cabin. While somehow sparing her husband, who had been less than two and a half arms away.

It would have been pointless to try to explain the unpredictable destructive nature of an unstable warp field to the man. He would simply have blamed the captain for activating the damaged warp system, instead of simply for having failed to pull her out of the wreckage.

Mathieu was a product of a genetically altered branch of humanity, from one of the more exotic new colony worlds. Where the special enzymes needed to digest the food grown on his homeworld resulted in a strong blue skin pigmentation that was usually so dark that offworlders often mistook it for a shade of black. The same enzymes usually resulted in pink eyes and a variety of unusually bright hair colors. Mathieu's neatly trimmed hair and jawline beard were a bright shade of purple.

It wasn't Mathieu's appearance nor even his unjustified anger at the captain, that was the reason why George didn't think he would contribute anything useful to their survival. Mathieu was one of those passengers who expected to be waited on hand and foot. He was after all a paying customer and he didn't see any reason why he should be expected to pitch in and do any of the work. Even under the circumstances of being spacewrecked on an uncharted world.

That left the only other surviving passenger, an elderly lady of 613 GSY with brown skin and eyes. Her long hair still reveled that it too had been a dark shade of brown until most of it had begun to turn gray. She wore her hair in many beaded braids. Other than her advanced age, George wasn't aware of any reason to think of Yolonda Heroner as a burden on the rest of them. To be sure, she was likable enough but she was a somewhat pampered and very wealthy woman. Who's boardroom skills were not very likely to be of much use on this raging planet that they were stranded on. George would have been very uncomfortable however, if he had only known that the wealthy retiree was actually the majority shareholder in the holding company. That owned and operated the small fleet of merchant freightliners that had included the Starskewer itself.

All six of the survivors were for the most part uninjured. There had been quite a few scrapes and bruises that, thanks to their biomeds, were already almost completely healed. Aside from that however, all of them were essentially healthy.

Their other resources included a small collection of portable scanners. One of which was a medical grade bioscanner that could help them identify any nonpoisonous local foodstuffs they might find. One plasma torch that could cut through almost anything using superheated air. Though it's operation required a lot of energy. There were about a dozen emergency power packs. Three of which were fully compatible with the plasma torch. There were also a collection of solar recharge kits but even if there wasn't a single cloud in the sky, it might still take over a full day spent charging the power packs, to recoup the power the plasma torch used in just 15 cyclets of operation. Still given it's potential as a powerful defensive weapon. Along with how useful it could be to start a fire when the wood was all wet, George considered it priceless.

That is it would be if the treelike shapes they had seen as they approached the large island turned out to actually be a form of wood. Which was hard to tell because of the snow that blanketed most of the island. The plasma torch would also be an indispensable power tool. As for other weapons, the captain had a small antique side arm that used compressed air to fire some relatively low velocity pellets. Which had been expressly designed not to penetrate the delicate hulls of an earlier age's space vessels.

Fortunately Randy had, as usual, been wearing his cooks apron which had a number of his precious kitchen knives tucked away in their built in sheaths. Though George didn't think much of their chances of getting the man to think of them as weapons, never mind share them with others.

Randy had also brought one other precious item with him. He had been only semiconscious when the Captain dragged him out of the remains of the ships galley but his arms had been locked in a strangle hold around his favorite soup pan. George himself had his pocket multi-tool which included a couple of sharp instruments that would be better than nothing in a pinch. There were also a few odd scraps of structural steel bar stock, that he figured he could convert into crude axes, with a careful application of a subcyclet's worth of power from the plasma torch.

Aside from that they had perhaps a hundred days worth of survival rations that hadn't gone down with the other container. There were also about three days worth of perishable goods that they should probably eat first. The survival rations included water pouches of course. There was no question however, that the single most important piece of equipment they still had was the portable water distillation unit that with energy from one of the power packs or failing that, even with heat from a small fire, could process enough drinking water for them to live on. Even from salt laden sea water, if they couldn't find anything more drinkable. The distillation unit itself would likely, with careful maintenance, last them for about 5 years. They had the clothes on their back. A collection of shipping blankets to keep warm with and a few mostly useless spare parts that he had happened to have in his pockets when they lost the other container.

George lamented the loss of the assorted equipment he'd had in the other shipping container. It had been a stroke of incredible good fortune that one of the two shipping pods to break free of their mounts, and remain intact enough to float had been the one he'd been using to store the assorted tools and salvageable junk he'd accumulated over the years as he performed maintenance on the Starskewer. He lamented that he hadn't done a better job of redistributing the stuff between the two containers but some of that junk had been inconveniently bulky. Like the core system from that lifepod with the bad inertial drive. It had been quicker and easier to replace the whole core system, than to replace just the integrated inertial drive. Though since most of the core system was still functional, he'd stored it for the more easily replaced components within it. He'd doubted that he would ever have the time to replace the bad inertial drive circuits but if he did, he'd have a spare core system ready to go. Unless of course, he'd already reused too many of the more easily replaced parts to make it worth replacing them.

As it was however, there wasn't much room for them to use as comfortable living space over there. So they had mostly stayed together in the other pod, with more than half of the emergency rations and a large supply of shipping blankets. About the only time anyone had used the other pod was when they needed a little privacy. Such as when someone needed to use the commode he'd cobbled together over there.

Since the off duty outfit Linda had been wearing when the pirates attacked was less than ideal in the cold damp conditions they were living under. It wasn't too surprising that she came up with the idea of turning some of the blankets into crude coats. They wouldn't be pretty but they'd be better than bare skin. George donated the spool of thin plastic fiberoptic "wire" he had in his pocket for thread. Yolonda produced a pair of sheers and some kind of craft needle. From some inner pocket of the coat she had actually been wearing when the Captain rescued her.

"Thank you Yolonda," Linda had said. "These will do nicely."

At this point the captain, who hadn't shown any sign that he was even listening to their conversation, walked over carrying a stack of the heavy blankets. Which had been manufactured as a form of reusable packing material to cushion and wrap delicate cargo, rather than for human use. The fabric was rather course but it would provide a fair amount of insulation. As he set the stack of blankets down in front of Linda, captain Rivermon picked up and examined the sheers.

"These sheers are unusually heavy for office work Mrs Heroner." The Captain said in a quiet voice. Then with a pointed glance at the craft needle, he continued. "For that matter, so is that small dagger that's masquerading as a sewing needle... Mind telling me how it is that you happen to have such useful things in your coat?" Then without waiting for an answer, the captain turned towards Linda. "If you can figure out something to trace out a pattern with, I can cut the fabric for you." Then without pausing for breath, he turned back to Yolonda. "It's your business of course, so if you don't want to tell me you don't really have to. But if you don't mind, I'm thinking that what I'd really like to know is how it is that of every one that was on board the Starskewer. Your the only one who was wearing a coat, when we crashed? Never mind one with such useful things in it's pockets."

As he spoke, Linda produced a cosmetic marker designed to make temporary imitation tattoos. With which she began sketching an outline on one of the blankets. She wasn't saying a word but she was definitely listening to the one sided conversation her commanding officer was trying to have with Yolonda.

"No, I don't mind doing a little explaining captain Rivermon," Yolonda said with a sigh. "That is on one condition."

"Name it fair lady," he replied with a grin.

"First you tell me how you know it's 'Mrs' rather than 'Miss' or that horrendous Ms that some tasteless individuals still think us ladies should use?" Yolonda asked. "I brought nothing of my estranged husband on board. And I'm quite sure that fact wasn't in my passage reservation."

"Fair enough," captain Rivermon replied. "I try not to be surprised by my passengers. One never knows when someone isn't who they claim to be. So I routinely do background checks as soon as I get the initial reservation."

"That sounds likely captain," Yolonda began. "Except that I happen to know that that detail doesn't show up in the available background data on me. In any of the 4,627 background lookup services you could have used. I spent a small fortune purging that data nearly a hundred years ago. When I was sure he wasn't coming back."

"Yes, I imagine you did at that," the captain replied. "But none of them had anything that explained how you got your most excellent credit rating." The captain turned back to face Linda. "Did you know Miss Trinora that Mrs. Heroner here, enjoys a credit rating higher than the planetary governments of any of the worlds this ship has ever delivered cargo to?" Then without waiting for an answer, he turned back to Yolonda. "That intrigued me so much that I inquired by less legitimate means. Though even my best black market contacts couldn't dig up much on you. All I got was the fact that you had once been married. And that your husband took your name rather than you his. The only other fact they could tell me was his former name. Which I put together with my memory of the corporate shake up that occurred 77 years ago. When the decision was made by my employer, to replace the deathtrap I was serving on with one of several brand new freightliners. I remember that no one seemed to know where we got the resources to pay for them. But now that I've seen your credit rating I've a suspicion you just might have been responsible."

"You didn't tell them I was going to be on board did you?" Yolonda asked with a bit of a hard edge in her voice.

"Of course not," the captain practically snorted. "I even do my regular background checks under a pseudonym. When it comes to my less legitimate sources I fall back on an alternate persona I created several years ago. When I go out to look them up, my underworld contacts know neither who I am nor what ship I'm from."

"In that case," Yolonda said with obvious relief in her voice. "I won't fire the corporate security chief, for ranking you among our best officers." Then with a glance around to confirm that none of the other survivors were listening, she continued. "I may as well tell you that I'm the one who selected you for the captain's job on this tub back then. And that over the years you've managed to exceed my expectations for you so many times. That when I decided to begin one long last tour of inhabited space before I eventually cash out, I decided to start my journey as a passenger on the Starskewer. For the express purpose of finally meeting you. I had thought that if you were the man I thought you were, I might just charter the Starskewer for the rest of my tour. But I hadn't counted on those damn pirates.

Getting back to your questions captain, I knew what kind of trouble we were in the moment their manipulator fields first grabbed our hull. So while I didn't think much of our chances, I thought I'd best grab my traveling coat just in case. And I didn't get it on any too soon. For no sooner did I fasten the first button when all hell broke lose. And I mean that literally captain. I don't know how you expected any of us to survive that distorted warp field. But a few of us did and here we are."

The captain reached over to Linda and gently lifted her chin. Until her mouth, that had sort of fallen open as she listened, was once again shut.

"Actually Mrs..." At which point Yolonda cut him off.

"Please!" she said in a commanding voice. "Call me Yolonda! I'd really rather that annoying Mr Naville didn't figure out that the owner of the shipping line he's already decided to sue, was within physical reach."

"Very well Yolonda." captain Rivermon replied. "But if I'm going to address you so informally, you better start calling me Wilber or it's going to be hard to explain." Yolonda grinned.

"Careful Wilber," she said. "Some people might think we're rapidly getting rather intimate."

At this, the Captain pointedly looked up and down Yolonda's aging, but still firm, figure before replying.

"One could certainly do worse," he said. "Getting back to what I was about to say Yolonda, I was only able to engage the warp generator by a bit of sheer luck. I'd been so unhappy with the efficiency of the warp field generator that I'd decided to use the time spent calculating the next fold recalibrating them. Which was only going to save time if I could heat up the control circuits before the generator finished cooling down from the previous fold. So of course, I had already bypassed certain safety override circuits. And no, I didn't actually expect any of us to survive when I engaged the warp field. But I was fairly certain that anyone they decided to let live would soon regret it. And this way, I figured I could maybe take some of the bastards with us."

Suddenly a loud incoherent screeching assaulted their ears as the dark form of Mathieu Naville slammed into the captain. Mathieu had started slowly creeping forward after he happened to notice his fellow passengers looking pointedly at him just as the voices he hadn't quite been able to hear fell to even softer tones. Mathieu had only heard a few words of their conversation but it was enough for him to realize that it wasn't actually the pirates who'd unleashed the carnage that had taken his beloved Donelle from him. When he attacked the captain, Mathieu appeared to be having some kind of fit. He was literally frothing at the mouth. As he began pounding, clawing and biting the captain.

Normally Mathieu wouldn't have stood a chance in a fight with a man as strong as the Captain. As it was however, he had the advantage of not only surprise but all the strength and fury of a madman.

George was sitting at the other end of the container when he noticed the disturbance. By the time he made it to his feet Mathieu's unnerving screeching began to take the form of recognizable words.

"You did it!" he screeched as he began slamming the Captains head against the containers floor. "You killed her..."

That was all he got to say before he suddenly fell unconscious as a loud buzzing sound echoed throughout the container. When George got there he saw that the spinster, was standing over the prone figure of her fellow passenger with what looked like a sonic stun gun in her hand.

"Quick!" she said with a sudden air of authority. "Wilber needs an immediate emergency strength dose of these anti-trauma biomeds!" As she said this, she produced a package of a very expensive premium version of them. She held it out to George but she didn't stop issuing orders.

"Prep a triple dose," she commanded. "While I start dressing those bite wounds."

As she said that she grabbed the oversized craft needle back from Linda, and the spool of the fine fiberoptic 'wire' that George had given them for the coats. With which she began to stitch closed the hole Mathieu had chewed in the Captains cheek.

"Please stop staring at your Captains wounds," she continued. "Prepare the damned biomeds Mr. Agroman. Now!" She fairly screamed that last word, jolting George into action.

By the time he had a triple strength dose ready to administer to the Captain, the suddenly authoritative old lady was almost finished crudely reattaching the partially shredded muscle tissue that had been hanging from where Mathieu's teeth had torn the Captain's forearm wide open. To the remainder of it, that was thankfully still attached to the cartilage.

"If you've got those biomeds ready Mr Agroman," she commanded. "Apply about a tenth of them to each of those eyes. Better put half again as much in his right eye. Mr Naville gouged that one pretty badly. Then spray another tenth on his cheek. And apply about a third of what's left to this muscle tissue. So I can start stitching the skin together. Then you can inject him with the rest of it." George did as he was told.

As he applied the biomeds to the Captain's arm, he saw that there was a distinctive piece of jewelry clamping shut one of the Captain's blood vessels. Even so there had been so much bleeding that he wondered how the woman had been able to see to stitch. At least the bleeding was rapidly slowing to a stop as the biomeds became active. He knew there hadn't been any need for the surgery to be overly precise but the closer together the right bits of flesh were held during the first stages of healing, the better the whole process would be.

When she was done stitching as much of the Captain's skin back together as was possible, Yolonda reached under her skirt and removed an antique inner garment, that George recalled used to be called a slip. This she cut into strips and began using them to bandage the wounds. The bleeding had already stopped but the fabric would help to keep the wound clean until the biomeds finished the job. Suddenly George remembered something.

"Excuse me Miss Heroner," he said. "But I think you left something that doesn't belong, inside his arm."

"Your right, Mr Agroman," She replied. "My diamond earring doesn't really belong there. But he'd already lost too much blood and that artery was bleeding so fast the not even the biomeds would have stopped it in time. He's just lucky I wear an odd clip on style of earrings with an adjustable clamp that was just strong enough to pinch that artery shut.

Don't worry, if we dose him with enough of my premium grade biomeds. Not even the diamond itself will remain by the time their done rebuilding his arm. That package has 9 more doses. I'm charging you with the task of administering them three times a day until you've used the whole package on him. Do you understand me Mr. Agroman?"

George looked at her with new eyes.

"I understand that just one dose of that particular brand of ultra hi-grade biomeds costs a lot more than I make in a full galactic standard year Miss Heroner," George replied. "I understand that the ship's passenger property insurance manifest rated your diamond earrings as a certified antique pair of natural stones, with a history that makes their value as a set greater, than the cost of an entire ship like the Starskewer. I understand that your crazy if you think the captain will ever be able to repay you for it. But yes, I also understand that 'god' himself would have a hard time stopping me from giving the rest of these biomeds to my captain. Do you understand me Miss Heroner?"

By the time he was done talking he was also having a hard time seeing through the tears that he didn't even know were pouring out of his eyes. At this point there was a loud clang. When Yolonda looked up, she saw Randy standing over Mathieu with a dented soup pan in his hand.

"The bastard started to wake up!" he explained.

"Please don't hit him anymore Randy," Yolonda requested.

"The man is sick with grief for his wife. And I don't want to have to spend any of the captain's medicine on him." She paused for a moment before continuing. "But if you could help George here, cut a few strips from one of these blankets to tie him up with, I'll feel a lot safer."

When the captain regained consciousness he was surprised that his head didn't hurt a lot more than it did. He remembered his head being slammed repeatedly into the deck plating. He also remembered those teeth... He tried to move his right arm to check his face but he discovered it was restrained. Which was probably a good thing because it hurt like hell the moment he started trying to move it. With his left hand he reached up to touch his cheek. It hurt the moment he touched the bandage but he didn't feel anything like the hole he expected to feel. Just to be sure he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. Even the slightest contact with his tongue was agonizing, but he had to know how extensive the damage was. The flesh felt a bit spongy and tasted wrong. It also felt like it had been crudely stitched back together with something coarse.

"Stop that Wilber!" a familiar voice scolded. "If you keep that up your going to tear my patchwork to bits before the biomeds can finish the healing." By this time Wilber knew why the voice sounded familiar.

"You sewed me back together Yolonda?" he asked. "I'm impressed. But you said something about biomeds? I know I didn't find any trauma rated packets, when I threw what supplies I could into the containers. But I can feel something a lot stronger than maintenance supplements working on me. Where did..."

"I kept a small supply of them in my traveling coat," she interrupted him. "But you need to rest Wilber. With any luck that wind will let up tomorrow or the next day and we can get out of this container before the waves do any more damage. But there's nothing for you to do right now. Except to rest up, so that you'll be strong enough when we get the chance."

It was shortly after first light, two days later, that the wind became less fierce. George came back inside and reported on the conditions outside.

"The wind's let up as much as I think it's going to," he told everybody. "As luck would have it the tides on it's way out. The water should be low enough for us to get ashore in a couple of subcycles."

"Then it's time," the Captain said. "That I got out of these bandages." As he said that he started to feel for the edge of his head bandage with his left hand.

"Wilber Rivermon!" Yolonda scolded him. "What do you think your doing? Your not done healing yet."

"Maybe not," he countered. "But I'm not about to allow someone to carry me as a burden when we make our move. I'll admit I don't think my arm's all healed up yet. But my cheek is doing just fine. I can't find any trace of that fiberoptic wire you used with my tongue anymore. Besides damn it, I need to know if I can see or not. So if you don't want me to claw at these bandages, you better help me get em off."

The captain found that he could in fact see. Albeit less clearly than he would have liked. It didn't take him long to spot the disheveled form of Mathieu Naville. The man was tightly bound at the wrist and ankle with strips of cloth and was further secured by another strip of cloth tethering his arm to what used to be a built in shelving rack. The man looked very sad and was staring at the captain. When he noticed that the Captain was looking back, he spoke up.

"I'm sorry!" Mathieu said. "I shouldn't have lost control like that. I'll never forgive you for Donelle." His voice trailed off and his eyes filled with tears but after a moment he continued hoarsely. "But that's no excuse for what I did to you. Especially since, if Miss Heroner is to be believed, what the pirates would have done to her."

Again Mathieu's voice trailed off as he succumbed to his tears. Then Yolonda spoke quietly for the captain's benefit.

"Mr. Naville here, was under the impression," she said. "That once the pirates learned how wealthy his wife's family was. That they would have ransomed her. He also thought that meant she'd have some chance of being returned to her people. I explained that it only worked that way in the holodramas. That in reality the pirates never let anyone go. That they don't even promise to return their victims. But rather when they decide someone is worth the effort, they repeatedly present their victim's family with proof of a continuous torture. Which they savagely inflict on their victim. Then they offer, for a price, to let their victim escape further suffering by being permitted to die.

Then I gave him some of the details of what kinds of torture they were known to actually use. Your crew is in favor of tossing the man into the sea for what he did to you. But I convinced them to at least wait till you decided what should be done with him. They don't believe he's actually sorry. Their afraid of what he might do next time he gets upset."

Captain Rivermon thought quietly about it for a couple of subcyclets.

"I'm not sure," he eventually said. "On the one hand, we can't keep him tied up like this forever. Yet if we don't and if he has another fit of rage like this, it could cost all of us our lives. Yet I'm loath to just put the man down like some dangerous wild beast. What do you think about it Yolonda?"

"I think," She replied. "That it would be a real risk. I'd like to think that he won't have a relapse. But he could decide his hate for you is too strong. Still I can't really see him doing anything that he thinks would kill off the rest of us. Though I wouldn't recommend that you should turn your back to him. However I also think that you, yourself, would suffer great inner damage. If you don't give him a chance. Your not a killer by nature Wilber. Oh your strong enough to take a life if you have to. But you'd never be sure you really had to and that would leave you with a feeling of guilt that could eventually destroy you."

"Your a shrewd judge of character Yolonda," Wilber replied with a smile. Then he spoke up in a louder voice. "Will you swear, Mr. Naville, that if I give you the benefit of the doubt. You will be on your best behavior? That you will obey my orders? And that you will not try to take any further revenge you might feel you still owe me?"

There was a look of disbelief, and a conflicting look of hope on Mathieu Naville's face when he looked back into the Captain's eyes.

"Yes, I swear I'll be good," Mathieu said. "I'll do whatever you say. I still don't like you but the courts are more my style anyway. So it can wait till we get back to civilization."

Captain Rivermon hesitated for a moment.

"I'm inclined to accept that promise Mr. Naville," captain Rivermon said at last. "I'd take the risk that your a man of your word. Though you should realize, that there is precious little chance that any of us will ever get back. Yet I'll expect you to keep your word anyway Mr. Naville. Do you understand me Mr Naville?"

The hapless man nodded vigorously.

"Yes, I understand," he said. "I'll be good, at least until we're rescued."

The captain sighed.

"Very well Mr Naville I'll accept you at your word," he said. "See that you keep it. If you don't, well, you won't get another chance."

To Mathieu's credit, he did his best to keep his word. When the time came he even volunteered to make two trips back to the wreck with George and Randy to salvage what supplies they could. Yolonda had insisted that the Captain himself shouldn't haul anything ashore except himself and that she'd hold onto his arm the whole way to insure that he didn't slip.

While they waited for the tide to finish going out, they had packed as much of the supplies as they could into backpacks that Linda and Yolonda had fashioned from the scraps left over from the simple poncho style coats they had made out of most of the blankets. The captain hadn't been able to be much help with the preparations. So he spent the time with the assorted environmental and bio scanners he had at his disposal.

As Yolonda helped him to strap on the small backpack that he'd insisted on carrying. He tried to make conversation to break the angry silence that she was using to voice her opinion of his decision.

"One good thing," he said. "All the scans show that this planet is remarkably suitable for human occupation. Right down to the genetic codes of it's sea creatures. It looks like we'll be able to eat anything we can catch."

Yolonda snorted.

"Or anything that catches us," she said. "Will be able to eat us too, don't forget."

The captain hid a smile. Yolonda was still angry but at least her wall of silence was broken. He was surprised how much that meant to him. Further conversation was impossible however, because it was time to leave. Once they and the remaining supplies were ashore. George sacrificed another of their dwindling supply of blankets to make several fabric straps. He used some of them, along with another of the blankets that he had merely cut a series of small slits into. To tie the strips to, in order to form a sling of sorts between a pair of crude metal poles that he had made from some pipe stock that he had salvaged for the purpose. This he fitted with a harness of sorts made from some more of the precious strips of fabric. On this he arranged the assorted supplies that didn't fit in the backpacks. tying them down with the remaining strips of fabric. The harness was made for two men, who would lift one end of the poles. As they slipped the harness over their shoulders.

They could then drag the heavy load of supplies, as the other end of the poles slid along the ground. Thanks to his injuries, the captain couldn't take a turn at it and Mathieu really wasn't strong enough. That left George and Randy to do all the hauling. While Mathieu and Linda each carried one of their packs. Dragging the supply carrier up the steeply sloped rocky beach was very hard work. Especially until they made their way far enough up the steep slope near the beach to reach above the tide line to where the ground had a coat of snow. Then the footing became treacherous as they made their way to the crest of the hillside. By the time their path leveled off, they had attracted the attention of some of the islands natives. The captain held a portable scanner in his good hand.

"They appear to be more like various kinds of dogs rather than wolves," he said of the company that had started to follow them. "Though I note that feral dogs can be just as dangerous as wolves. I didn't see any sign of civilization when I scanned the planet just before we crashed. And the scanner isn't picking up any kind of transmitted signal in our vicinity. This suggests to me that this planet was at some point terraformed by some kind of colony ship but that the colony itself failed.

We're going to need to take shelter soon but there isn't anything nearby. However, if you look to the side of that small mountain like hill. That's sticking up out of that cluster of large trees to the west of us, you can just see a sheer rock cliff side. My scanner indicates that the rock it's composed of is riddled with some cracks and fissures that might offer a cave or two. Even if it doesn't, some of those trees are close enough to it that we could use a few of them to build a stout lean to against the cliff."

Mathieu snorted.

"On foot?" he yelled angrily. "It'll take days to get there!"

The captain couldn't help but notice that all three of his crew tried to get between him and Mathieu.

"Belay that!" he said to stop them from doing anything rash.

They immediately stopped advancing towards Mathieu.

"Mathieu swore to follow my orders," he explained. "But Neither of us said anything about never questioning them. I wouldn't expect that from him any more than I do from a member of my crew. Besides he does have valid point. So back off so that I can discuss it with him. And that's an order."

They reluctantly obeyed. After a moment captain Rivermon broke the icy silence that had fallen on the group by addressing his detractor.

"Like I said Mr Naville," he explained. You have as much right to question my orders as any of my crew do. And as it happens I agree that we'll be hard pressed to make that distance before nightfall. However in my opinion, it's our best hope. If you've a better solution to our problem I'd like to hear it. Otherwise I'll expect you to pitch in as much as you can. To help get us there as soon as possible. Now, Have you spotted a reasonable shelter that I somehow missed?"

"No! But it's not my job to have all the answers now, is it?" Mathieu replied sullenly.

"Your right there Mr Naville," the Captain replied. "That's not your job. It's mine. But under the circumstances, since I don't actually have all the answers. I have to use my best judgment. Which says that we're wasting valuable time debating the issue. Just one last thing though Mr Naville." He paused for a moment. Then continued before Mathieu could ask what the last thing was. "Like I said, you've as much right to question my orders as one of my crew. But not more. You may have noticed that most of the time they obey me without question. And never, I say never, do they question my orders if I use the word 'now'. You haven't heard me use that word as part of a command yet Mr Naville. Because I only use it if a delay in obedience would be, well 'bad'. They all know this and now that you do, know that if I say 'now', there isn't any time for debates. Am I making myself clear enough for you Mr Naville?"

Mathieu was obviously seething with anger when he replied.

"Clear as crystal captain," he said.

Then without another word he picked up Georges pack and started walking. They moved as quickly as they could. None of them wanted to be caught in the open when the sun went down but loath as they were to stop, neither George nor Randy could pull that heavy load all day without an occasional break. Usually only long enough to catch their breath, have a drink and empty their bladders. They were about halfway there when the Captain spoke up.

"All right people," he said. "It's time for another break." Then as everyone set down their loads he added, "I also think that it's about time we spent a couple of subcycles to have something to eat. Randy, I hate to impose on your well earned rest but could you coordinate the preparation. We need something quick and hot, that'll stick with us the rest of the day. While the others were busy helping Randy turn some survival rations and a few other ingredients into a tasty stew. George got the captains attention.

"Them pooches are making me nervous captain," he said.

"I'm not happy with the way they're shadowing us either," the captain replied. "It's hard to get a good count because their just too good at using what cover there is around here. But I know I spotted at least a dozen different dogs. The way they're watching us, I figure their just waiting for nightfall."

"That's what Randy and I think as well sir," George reported. "At the rate we're moving, I think we'll reach the cliff side by then," he said. Then he quickly added, "But that won't leave much time to build any kind of shelter sir."

"That's my take as well George," captain Rivermon replied. "I'm still hoping we might find a suitable cave or crevice you know. But if not, then at least there we'll be able to put our backs to the cliff side. So they can't come at us from behind."

The daylight was fading when they got close enough to the crack filled cliff side, for the captain's scanner to locate a cave that might do them. The captain had decided not to worry the ladies or Mathieu, with his growing concerns about the dogs. Which he noticed, had begun to follow them much more closely than before. Even so, he'd noticed Yolonda checking the charge on her sonic stunner. So he was fairly certain she realized the danger. They had almost made it to the cave, that they could now see was there, before the dog pack attacked.

The evening twilight was beginning to fade when the pack leader made his move. He'd been watching his prey all day. So he knew how much less maneuverable the two legged bulls were while they were tied to their burden. He jumped on George's back, diving him to the ground. That was his last mistake. While the pack leader was trying to get at Georges throat, Mathieu ran in panic into the cave. The captain was busy trying to keep the rest of the pack off the girls with his pellet gun. These dogs were hard to kill however. It took two shots to take down his first target. Meanwhile another beast tried to circle around to jump Linda from behind. The captain got that one also but he'd had to rush his first couple of shots. So it took three of them to take it out.

He was so busy defending the girls that he didn't notice the dog that was preparing to jump on him, until it was too late. The dog was smart enough to go for the Captains hand, to stop him from shooting any more pellets. Meanwhile another dog went for his unprotected throat. Later the captain said that all he could remember after that was an excruciating pain that vibrated his very bones before he passed out.

Yolonda had seen the dogs starting to take down the captain and tried to stop them with her sonic stunner. She did stop them. Unfortunately the Captain had attempted to roll out from under the dogs that were attacking him and received as much of the maximum intensity sonic blast as his attackers did. Worse still, that prolonged burst of focused hypersonics depleted the stunners limited energy reserve.

Things would have gone from bad to much worse if it wasn't for the pack leaders initial mistake. If he had chosen to jump Randy, his mate could have got to George. Before George could get to one of the axes he'd finished forming during one of their rest stops. Yet as quick as the leaders mate was, Randy didn't have to go far to lay his hands on his best cleaver and boning knife. He sunk the cleaver into the back of the skull of the leader. Then as the leaders mate landed on him he slipped his boning knife into her belly and gutted her as he would have a fish. Randy didn't have time to retrieve his best cleaver from the former pack leader's skull. instead he quickly sliced the strap holding him to the dead weight of the supplies.

As he did so his other hand was busy pulling his other cleaver from his apron. It wasn't as big as the one he'd spent saving George but it served him well as more dogs tried to take him down. Randy was normally a sweet kind hearted man who hated the fact that some animals had to die to put meat on his menu. He was nonetheless an efficient butcher. Now however, he was angrier than George had ever seen him. He killed every dog that came close to him but some of them got close enough to sink their teeth in first. By the time George dragged himself to the one weapon they had left that might turn the tide of this battle, Randy was bleeding from a half a dozen serious wounds. Including one in his neck that had just missed his jugular.

George had to look away from his brave friend, to unfasten the strap holding the plasma cutter down. George could hear his heart pounding, so he knew that it took him less than three heartbeats to pull the cutter free but in that time one of the dogs had managed to knock Randy off his feet.

To make the plasma cutter ready to use as a weapon, George quickly finished disabling it's safety circuits. He had previously done most of the work necessary to bypass it's safety protocols while they were stranded in the cargo container. Then he cranked its power control to maximum. He had to take the time to fry a couple of dogs that had noticed that he had moved and were in the middle of leaping towards him. Before he could turn the cutter on Randy's attackers. Then it took all the skill the technician had, to burn four dogs off of Randy without cooking his friend in the process. The hunting pack that had attacked them was large in numbers and nearly fearless. but the jet of pseudo fire that incinerated flesh on contact was a bit too much for them.

They had anticipated an easy kill. Then sensing their prey's intention of using the cave as a defensive fortification their leader had been forced to make his move before darkness had fully set in. Then their prey had proved to be far more dangerous than the hunting pack expected. They had already lost nearly half their numbers. Including the alpha couple that lead them, when fear of this new weapon broke their will to fight. So they retreated to go lick their wounds. They didn't quite go empty jawed however. When George reached his wounded friend he saw that there was only a bloody stump where his right leg had been. It had been gnawed off at the knee. At least one of the dogs had gained a meal from this tragedy. George was surprised to find that his friend was not only still breathing but conscious. As he started to apply a tourniquet to the remains of his friends leg, Randy found his voice.

"Don't bother George," he said though it's doubtful he could see who was trying to tend his wounds. "It's too late, George. Besides we both know Miss Heroner is out of those fancy medpacks of hers. There's no way I'm going to get either my sight nor my leg back. I wouldn't want to live crippled up like this." Randy coughed up a wad of blood, then continued. "But hell, I showed them mutts a thing or two didn't I?"

Then Randy coughed up some more blood.

George, realized that his friend was at deaths door. There was nothing he could do for Randy except to stay with him and hold his hand until it was over.

"Yeah, buddy you sure showed them," George said. "What's left of them won't be back any time soon."

"Good!" Randy gasped. Then having kept his ships crew and passengers fed for so many years, his last thoughts were about what they'd have to eat if he didn't provide for them.

"Promise me George," Randy gasped. "I just butchered a lot of dog meat." He hacked up some more blood. "Your going to need it," he whispered. "Don't let it go to waste...prom...s...meee..."

As his friend gasped out this plea with his very last breath, George found himself answering.

"Alright, you win," he said hoarsely. "I'll do it."

He wasn't ever sure if Randy had heard his answer or not. Though that didn't much matter. He'd made a deathside promise to a fellow crewman and dear friend. Besides that, as much as the idea revolted him, George knew Randy had been right. They would need the meat. George reluctantly let go of Randy's hand. Then he stood up and surveyed the carnage. There were the remains of nearly twenty dead dogs strewn around Randy's body. There were a few more around where Linda and Miss Heroner were ministering to the captain's prone form.

"Void no!" he cursed as he ran towards them. "Not the captain."

"He'll live," Linda said as she looked up. "He's just got a bad case of stunner shock"

"Stunner shock?" George repeated in disbelief as his gaze shifted to Miss Heroner.

"I'm afraid I missed," she said.

"Not completely," Linda corrected. "You also got the two bitches who were on top of him." That's when George noticed that two of the fallen dogs were still breathing. A situation that he quickly remedied by savagely twisting their necks, until he felt and heard a satisfying crunch.

"I need your help Linda," George said. "Miss Heroner can tend to the captain for a subcycle or two." He gestured outwards towards the gathering darkness. "I managed to put the fear of fire into these beasts. But they're night hunters by inclination. We're going to need to keep a fire burning. To keep them away for the rest of the night. So I gotta get us a big pile of firewood, before it gets too dark to find it. That means I'm going to need you watching my back with this."

As he finished speaking he hefted the plasma torch for emphasis.

"But that thing is too heavy for me," Linda protested. "I couldn't wield it the way you do. Maybe I should gather the wood."

"No! I've got several things I need to run around and do," George replied. "Besides, you couldn't drag back some of the larger branches that I intend to. So the first thing your going to do is to dig the tripod out of the supplies." As he spoke, he scooped up the Captain's pistol from the ground. He checked it's air gauge and pellet chamber. He judged that it still held about twenty shots. He handed it to Yolonda. "If any of them come sniffing around you and the captain while were over there."

Yolonda just nodded.

"Found it!" he heard Linda's voice proclaim from over by the pile of supplies.

"Good!" he replied. "I'm afraid the best spot to set it up is right by Randy's body."

Linda didn't reply, at first. She didn't have to. The look on her face told him what he already knew about how she felt but as much as it pained her to do so, she placed the tripod next to Randy's remains. Then as George fitted the plasma torch to the tripod, Linda spoke up.

"Don't worry," she said venomously. "They'll not be snacking on any more of him neither."

George quickly dragged back a couple of large fallen branches from the nearby trees. He piled them in a clear spot near where Linda was standing guard with the plasma torch.

"I hate to waste the power Linda," he said. "But I need the light of the fire." He pointed at a thick junction where the branch on the bottom split into two branches. "Aim here and light this thing up."

He'd selected those two branches well from the assorted debris that had accumulated over the years as these huge trees near the cave mouth grew. It burst into bright flames so suddenly that he caught sight of a few dogs that had been lurking in the vicinity before they could retreat beyond the fires glow. At that moment he heard four soft air gun reports in rapid succession. When he looked towards Yolonda, he saw a dog twitching in it's last death throws and ever so briefly, he saw the tail of another one running away before it vanished into the gloom. He decided to take advantage of the brief state of disarray. That would be in the hunting pack, due to the surprise burst of fire and he grabbed an axe and stepped further into the gloom than he would otherwise have dared.

He could just see the remains of a fallen tree that he'd actually noticed when there was a bit more light, just before the dogs first attacked.

George knew it was too big to drag back even for a bull of a man such as himself but he'd noted a spot where it's trunk rested on a boulder. When the tree fell it had almost broken itself in two on the edge of that rock. He figured that it would only take a few axe strokes to finish the job. Then since it was just a little bit higher on the hillside and if he was lucky enough that none of the branches caught on anything, he just might have the strength to haul the upper half down slope to the edge of the circle of light from the fire.

Then Linda could watch his back while he hacked it into more manageable pieces. Just as he dragged the end of this bounty of firewood into the light he heard a snarl as a pair of dogs tried to get him before he could get any closer to the fire. Both of them were reduced to burning dog flesh in mid jump. As he rolled out from under what was left of their bodies he heard a few more dogs rapidly retreating.

"Void!" he muttered to himself. "How can any island support a dog pack this big?"

Then he unslung the axe from his shoulder where it had been hanging by a strip of that incredibly strong packing blanket fabric and lopped off the few branches that had been caught in the jet of plasma.

"Nice shot!" he called out to Linda, in appreciation that she had roasted both dogs, only grazed the tree and above all, managed to completely miss him.

George made a small pile of the burning branches on the far side of the tree top and added more to them until the circle of light from this second, smaller fire lit up his new work area. The axe worked better than he had hoped. As he quickly reduced the tree top to 5 fair sized segments. As well as a few dozen loose branches that he quickly hauled up the slope. He made a pile of them, next to the cave mouth. George paused only to add some of the loose branches to the main fire. Then, one at a time, he hauled 4 of the tree segments up the slope. As he did this he occasionally collected the few small branches that broke off, and used them to build up both fires. Next he started collecting dog carcasses, which he stacked in a heap on the other side of the cave entrance.

"What in space are you doing with them?" Linda asked.

"Keeping a promise to Randy!" was all he could bring himself to say.

Linda was obviously revolted by the idea of such a huge pile of dead dogs being made on the doorstep of the cave they intended to use for shelter. She couldn't imagine what promise to Randy could possibly compel him to do so but she could read George like a book. So she knew from the way he moved, that there wasn't any point arguing with him about it. Then George threw a few more of the loose branches into the fire and turned his attention to his captain. He noticed that there were some fresh bandages on his left hand. He recognized the fabric as coming from Miss Heroner's blouse.

"Hnnh, he grunted. "Keep this up and your not going to have anything to wear."

"It's only my sleeves George," Yolonda replied. "Besides what else was I supposed to do. He needed some bandages. By the looks of things you could use some to."

"Maybe later," George said with a shrug. "Right now I want to get everyone into the cave."

With that he picked up his captain's unconscious form and carried him to the cave mouth. The light from the fire didn't shine very far into it but it was enough to see that the floor of it near the door was nearly level. He gently laid his captain down just inside, then he retrieved the bioscanner from the captain's pack and checked the cave for life signs. The only significant life form it detected was a human at the far end of it's range. He wondered how long Mr. Naville would remain cowering in the dark at what must be the back of the cave. One thing was for sure, he didn't have time to go coax him back to the group.

Next he went outside and took the plasma torch off it's tripod. Then he asked Linda to set the tripod up closer to the cave. When it was positioned to his satisfaction he placed the heavy tool on it again. Then he called out in a strong voice.

"Do you think Miss Heroner, that there's any chance of the captain regaining consciousness any time in the next couple of subcycles?" he asked.

"Not a chance," Yolonda replied. "My stunner was on maximum George. I don't expect he'll wake before morning."

"In that case," George explained. "It'll have to fall to me as the senior ships officer on duty, to perform a solemn duty for Randy. I'd much rather the captain spoke the litany but I owe it to Randy to make sure those dogs don't get to feed on any more of his body." He heard Yolonda gasp. "I'm sorry Miss Heroner I should have informed you more gently. But I forgot you hadn't seen his leg. In any case, unless I'm going to drag his corpse into the cave with us, I'm going to have to cremate him soon. I intend to build a bonfire for that. Then I'm going to build a fire nearer to the cave. With which I'm going to have to cook all the dog meat, before it spoils."

"What?" Linda fairly screamed. "You can't possibly think any of us will eat dog!"

Then she saw the look on George's face and fell silent.

"I don't like the idea either Linda," George explained in a hoarse voice. "But frankly we can't afford to let all this protein go to waste. Besides that, it's the deathside promise I made to Randy." George paused, unable to speak for a moment. Then he continued with difficulty. "Our cook's very last thought was of how to feed us. He begged me not to let the meat he'd just slaughtered go to waste. So we are not going to. Do you hear me? We will not dishonor him that way."

Then George fell silent.

"I knew Randy was something special," Yolonda spoke up. "And he was right you know. I've been on several extended hunting trips Linda, so I know that people can and do eat some fairly unusual meats. Some of them actually taste good. But tell me George, if your going to dress out all these dogs tonight, What do you intend to do with the blood and entrails?"

"I guess," George said. "I'll just have to burn all that. But right now I've a litany to speak." George gestured towards the plasma cutter. "Please keep an eye on my back Linda."

As he finished speaking, George grabbed the remaining loose branches and placed them in a pile next to the small outer fire. To which he added a few small pieces for more light. Then he quickly chopped the remaining segment of the tree top into fairly large pieces, making a pile of them together with some small brush, to serve as a funeral pyre next to the small outer fire. Finally, George stood beside Randy's corpse and after a moment of still silence he spoke in a monotone.

"We the crew of the Starskewer," he said. "Are here gathered to bid farewell to our fallen brother. Mr Randy Luborn at the age of 536 galactic standard years, did as ship's cook, faithfully execute his duty to his ship, it's crew and to his captain for the last time.

He serves as an example of courage and devotion far beyond the call of mere duty. It is with a great sadness and sense of loss, that we bid him a last farewell and consign his remains to the cosmos at large. So says the ranking officer. Yo!" This last word he shouted as loud as he could, then as soon as the echo faded he continued. "How say the crew?"

"Ho!" Linda shouted nearly as loudly, as she did so, another voice sung out from behind her somewhat less forcefully but with just as much feeling.

George hadn't heard his captain's 'chorus' to his litany. It was just as well he hadn't or the indecision on whether he should proceed in the role of ranking officer might have spoiled Randy's farewell ceremony. As it was, a moment after he heard Linda's voice shout the crew's final word. He gently lifted Randy's remains and carried him to the funeral pyre. George gently placed his friend upon it. Next he used the burning wood of the small fire next to it, to ignite the brush of the funeral pyre. Then as the fire grew, he snapped to attention. Saluted his fallen comrade's burning remains and issued to him one last command. "Crewman, dismissed!"

By the light from the pyre he found and retrieved Randy's knives where he'd dropped them in the fight. Then he grabbed the supply carrier and dragged it into the cave. Where he leaned it against the inner wall. Finally he used the last of the plasma cutter's charge. To heat up the funeral pyre enough to properly cremate Randy's remains.

"Well spoke!" his captain's voice said from behind him. "In this light I can't quite see the look on your face just now George. Which is a shame, I'd give a lot to be able to see it."

Then George began to recover from the surprise that his captain was in fact awake.

"I'm sorry sir," he said. "But I thought..."

"Belay that!" Wilber commanded "I know full well you wouldn't have taken on that duty by choice, if you thought there was a chance in space that I could have spoken the litany instead. I'm sorry to hear about Randy. Yolonda here told me of his bravery. And of that deathside promise you made to him. He was right you know, we need to salvage as much of that meat as we can. I imagine you'll have to turn most of it into jerky or something."

"When did you wake up sir?" George asked.

"Hard to say George," Wilber replied. "At first I thought I was dreaming, when I heard 'you' speaking in that tone of voice. Then for a moment I thought I might have been the subject of the litany, until you spoke his name. That's when I finished waking up. But George, as much as I hate to say this, if your going to prep that dog meat, you'd better get started. It's going to be a long night."

Chapter 44 the cave

It would take George all night to dress out and cook the dog meat. All the while he would have to keep the fires fed. Linda would spend the night on guard duty. Since all the torch compatible power packs were depleted until they could feed them some sunlight, she had her captain's pellet gun and one of the crude axes that George had made.

Yolonda didn't want to leave the Captain unattended. So she had asked Linda to ask George if she could have a couple of branches, some of the fatty tissue from the slaughtered dogs and a few of the strap fragments from the remains of the supply carrier's harness. With which to make a couple of torches so they could see the cave a little bit better. In answer George relieved Linda from the guard duty.

"That's a good idea Linda," George said with an only slightly forced smile. "Why don't you keep an eye on the Captain and fetch me the soup pan. While I stand guard long enough for Yolonda to pick the branches she wants from the woodpile?"

When that had been accomplished, Linda resumed standing guard while George dug into the pile of refuse, that he hadn't tossed on the fire yet, for fatty scraps which he placed in the pan. He set that on the edge of the fire to render the fat. Meanwhile he also resumed the grizzly task of butchering the rest of the dog's while keeping an eye on the fat. Now however, he placed any fatty tissue he encountered into it's own pile. When the initial batch of fat had been rended, George brought the pan to Yolonda.

"These dogs don't have much fat on them," George explained. "Will this do for now?"

Yolonda nodded.

"Yes," she said. "This will do nicely. Please save me any more of the raw fatty tissue that you get. Since were using it for torches rather than for cooking, It won't matter so much, if some of it it goes rancid before it gets used."

George just smiled and went back to work.

While she had been waiting for the rendered fat, Yolonda had tied strips of blanket material to a couple of the sticks she'd picked out. These she now coated with the fatty oil and rolled them up around the end of the sticks to complete the torches. Then she stepped outside long enough to light one from the fire. When she came back in she found the captain was again awake. He was standing up and looking at her with an odd expression on his face. They quickly explored the near end of the cave.

The entrance was an oblong eye shaped gash in the side of the hill that measured just over two arms in height at it's tallest point and just under four arms wide. It's floor was a nearly flat rock surface that sloped uphill from the opening for a short distance. The entry area was about ten arms deep where it stopped at a nearly vertical 'wall'. Which ran parallel to the opening for about twice the opening's length.

The other 'walls' slowly curved away from the edge of the opening until the entry area was shaped like a crescent moon. The ceiling also curved up from the entrance so that by the time they reached the back wall, even the tallest of them could stand up straight. On either end of the back wall, there was another opening leading to a passageway, that went deeper into the rocky hill.

The one to the right was a narrow passage, about two arms wide, that sloped uphill for three arms before it opened out into a fairly large chamber. Which had a significant draft through a long narrow crack in the back wall, that stretched from the ceiling almost to the floor. They noticed that there were what appeared to be some faint traces of ashes at the base of the crack. The wall and ceiling near the crack also seemed to have traces of soot. Off of this chamber they discovered another somewhat smaller chamber with a thick layer of fine sand on it's floor. In which, since it was slightly downhill from the bigger chamber, the sand had mostly stayed put.

"It would seem that we have a natural fireplace," said the captain. "Which is complete with a chimney of sorts."

Both George and Linda looked surprised.

"That's good news," George said. "That will make it easier and perhaps safer, to turn some of this meat to jerky."

"There's more," Yolonda said. "It looks like somebody else has used it for a fireplace before. Though not for a very long time."

"We only ventured a short distance down the left hand passage," captain Rivermon continued his report. "Down which Mr Naville disappeared. It appears to be consistently two arms wide for as far as we could see by torchlight. It also slopes somewhat downhill. Since the bioscanner still says Mr Naville is alive and well, I think we can assume there's no real threat down there. We called out to him. a couple of times. When the echo's died down he yelled back saying, 'Stay away from me!' Along with a few other less polite variants of the same thing. So I don't intend to go searching for him, at least not until morning anyway. For right now, Yolonda reminded me that if I want those fancy biomeds to finish healing me, I should try to get some more sleep. I hate to admit it, but I think she's right."

Then the captain spent half a subcyclet looked at the size of the pile of dog meat that still needed cooking.

"I always thought it took a long time in concentrated smoke to make jerky," he said. "Do we have enough wood for that?"

"We do with this," George replied, brandishing Randy's seasoning shaker. Which he had extracted from Randy's apron. "I happen to know that Randy filled it with a concentrated nanotech food additive. Which will expedite the process and greatly improve the flavor."

"Nanotech food additive you say?" the captain inquired. "Are you quite sure? There certainly wasn't enough is his budget to pay for something that exorbitant. Such a thing would also be more expensive than he could possibly have personally afforded at his rate of pay."

"Randy once told me it was a cherished family heirloom," George replied as he unscrewed the top and began extracting the small package within. "He was the last of a long family line of chefs you know. He also said that he'd only resorted to using it once in his whole life. He said it worked great but he'd always felt like it was too much like cheating."

At this point George showed the captain the label on the inner package. There, just above the usage instructions and the improbable claim that the package had originally contained over 10,000,000 servings, there was a distinctive logo. It consisted of a monochrome image of a strange looking building with a waterfall pouring out from it's front doorway.

"Thing is captain," George continued with tears in his eyes. "As precious as this was to him, I'm positive he'd have told me to use as much of it as it took to keep us all properly fed. Seeing as how he felt like we were all the family he had left."

"In that case George," the captain said in a suddenly hoarse voice. "I'd suggest you honor his wishes but use it sparingly. Carry on."

By morning they were running very low on firewood. Captain Rivermon called George and Linda inside.

"I don't think we need to worry about the dogs for a while," he said. "Now that it's daylight out there. All three of you are exhausted."

Yolonda had stood guard over him all night. She hadn't dared to fall asleep after Mathieu had dragged himself back out of the depths of the cave to complain about the stench of the cooking dog meat.

"I on the other hand have had plenty of rest," their captain continued. "So George, do you think there's enough wood left to keep the inner fireplace burning long enough to finish drying the jerky?"

"Well thanks to Randy's nanotech seasoning, there's just about enough wood left for that alright Sir," George began. "But..."

The captain silenced him with a gesture.

"Since I made Yolonda redress my hand in such a way that I can hold my pistol," captain Rivermon resumed speaking. I'm able to stand watch for the next few cycles. I therefore order you three to get some sleep. I'll wake you in a couple of cycles. Meanwhile..."

Wilber paused long enough for his eyes to locate Mathieu, who was sitting with his back against the wall. As he had been since before the captain awoke from his own sleep.

"Mr. Naville!" Wilber said loud enough to get the man's attention. "You look like you've had some rest. That is to say that you do not appear physically exhausted. As you can see Mr. Naville, I'm still not in proper condition to be tossing wood on the fire and such. And everyone else is in desperate need of sleep. So I'm going to have to put you to work this morning. Please come outside with me, to gather up the remaining wood."

"What?" Mathieu responded. "Out there? I don't intend to become dog food. Besides, I heard you planning to get us all to eat that disgusting meat that Mr Agroman spent the night cooking. The only reason you want to keep a fire going is to finish preserving more of it. I for one won't be eating any of it. So why should I help you do that?"

The captain held up his hand to stop George from advancing towards the man.

"I did say you could question my orders," Wilber continued. "However I am afraid that I'm going to have to insist. But before I do I'll answer your concerns as best as I can. Because of their extended shelf life the survival rations have to be reserved for when we really don't have anything else. You don't have to like dog meat. But you won't have a lot of choice about it. However, I realize that you've been under a bit of stress these past two days. So on this occasion I'm prepared to be 'nice'. You may have noticed that there's still a small quantity of perishable food left in the remaining stores from the ship. You might not know that I consider that open package of dehydrated synthomeat to be somewhat perishable. So if you show me that your willing to pitch in by serving as my hands today, I'll tell George to let you have the remains of the synthomeat for tonight's supper."

Mathieu looked at him venomously for nearly a full subcyclet before he suddenly seemed to remember his promise.

"Very well," he said with obviously forced civility. "Your the captain." Then he stood up to follow the captain outside.

Mathieu wasn't happy with the situation. Here he was being used like a slave by that pompous jerk, who's incompetence had gotten his beloved Donelle killed. What was even worse was the way the captain was making a point of appearing reasonable. He didn't complain when Mathieu insisted on taking smaller armfuls of the firewood than the captain had suggested. This despite the fact that Mathieu was quite sure the captain had actually suggested a smaller armful than he would have expected from anyone else. It was like the captain was trying to be kind. Mathieu thought about it and realized that the captain was in a position to make his life considerably more difficult than it already was. He also reasoned that if the captain thought he was responding to kind treatment. He wasn't as likely to go out of his way to be unkind. This wasn't what he wanted to do however. It was a mistake on the captain's part if he thought that such 'kindness' might save him. Because Mathieu would feel obligated to prosecute the man for what he'd done. Even if his Donelle hadn't died.

Mathieu figured that the captain probably even knew that. But then of course the captain wasn't expecting a rescue ship. After all he thought that, even if anyone bothered to look for them, they would have no way to know that they were on this planet. But he knew something that the captain didn't. So he would wait and play the captain's game.

The captain thought Mathieu was being very cooperative today. Apart from his initial complaint and dragging his feet a little with the actual work involved, he had done everything asked of him. Under the captains guidance, he had brought in the last of last night's firewood. While at the same time, using some of it to keep the fireplace running. He had even endeavored to do so quietly so as not to wake the others prematurely.

George slowly dragged himself back to wakefulness. He could have used more sleep. But he was glad the captain had kept his word about the two cycles. He could see by the firelight that Linda was having just as hard a time waking up. He hadn't been quite sure about that at first. Until her saw her shake her head and then resoundingly slap herself on each cheek a couple of times before standing up. Then he noticed the captain standing next to Yolonda. There was a look of indecision on his face.

"Why not let her have another subcycle," George spoke up. "While I fetch us a bit more wood and Linda finds us something to eat. After that, if you intend to discuss your plans for the next few days, I suspect she will want to be in on it."

The captain turned towards him and nodded. "So ordered," was all he said.

"I'm afraid that unless you want me to use some of the dehydrated vegetables sir," Linda explained. "The best I can do is to warm up some, ah, meat." Then she shuddered visibly. "Can we afford to use enough water to make a pot of stimbev captain?"

The captain grimaced.

"I could use some too," He said. "But I'm afraid that since stimbev reduces the effective hydration value of the water, we shouldn't indulge ourselves until we find a reasonable water source."

Mathieu's look of disdain for the prospective meal had turned to one of intense interest at the mention of stimbev. Even the poor quality beverage that resulted from reconstituting some of the powder from the emergency rations sounded good. He suddenly wanted some in the worst way. So he decided to tell them something they didn't know yet. It wasn't after all, as if it was something they weren't going to find out fairly soon anyway.

"There's plenty of water!" Mathieu blurted out.

"What?" both Linda and her captain said in an unplanned chorus.

"There is water," Mathieu repeated. "I found it back there." He gestured in the general direction of the other passage. "I found it while I... I was 'exploring' the other tunnel."

"That is good news Mr Naville," captain Rivermon said. "If it tests safe enough for processing we shall have stimbev tomorrow morning."

"But it is good delicious fresh water," Mathieu protested. "I was thirsty enough to drink some and I'm OK."

Two cyclets later the captain was considering Mathieu's bioscan data carefully.

"You took a terrible risk Mr. Naville," he said. "I can't quite be sure that you didn't ingest any pathogens. But I think that anything that hasn't manifested itself enough for me to detect. Should at least be within the tolerance factors of the distillation unit. So I'm going to authorize a full pot of stimbev. Which I estimate will use up the water pouches from 4 ration packs. Just be extra careful with the seals Linda. We want to be able to refill them with fresh water"

As it turned out, the Captain didn't have to wake Yolonda, the smell of the stimbev was enough. After everybody, except Mathieu, had eaten and they were all on their second cup of stimbev. The captain laid out his plans for them all.

"OK first of all I think it's important that we keep someone watching the entrance to the cave at all times," captain Rivermon said. "Until we have a better solution, that also means we need a fire just outside it all night long. I don't think we need to worry about the dogs very much during the daytime. But we can't be sure they wouldn't try to surprise us in the dark of the cave." The captain paused for just a moment before continuing. "Which brings me to a point of interest, everything we have seen about this cave says it's a great shelter. And there's no trace of it being used as a den by any wild animal at any time. Which makes me wonder why not? I can't imagine what kept our four footed friends from having claimed the place." He let that thought settle in for a moment. "We need to explore the rest of the cave and properly test that water supply that Mr. Naville discovered. At the same time we need to stock up on firewood and scan the area for edible plants. While keeping a vigilant watch in force at all times. So I think we are going to have to sleep in shifts. Which, of course, makes it difficult to get everything else done."

The captain paused long enough to drain his cup.

"So since at the moment we are all well stimulated," captain Rivermon waved his now empty cup for emphasis. "I suggest that one of you girls stay out here with Mr Agroman. Then while keeping an eye on each other and the cave entrance, scan some of the area's foliage while George here hauls in enough wood for tonight. Meanwhile I'd like the other lady to accompany myself and Mr Naville, while he shows us this water supply he discovered. Any objections?"

"How familiar is Miss Heroner with our bioscanner captain?" George spoke up.

"Not very," Yolonda interjected. "I'm afraid it's been a while since I've used anything like it. Which didn't look much like that little thing you've been waving around Wilber."

"In that case Yolonda," Wilber said. "I guess your with me. But before we go. I'd like you to check my bandages. My injuries are feeling a lot better and I'm wondering if I can carry one of the torches."

"Your almost there Wilber," Yolonda said. "Your left hand looks fit enough to hold a torch if you like. But I think you need to keep that right arm in a sling for another day or two."

"In that case, I think you should carry this," captain Rivermon replied. He held his pellet gun out to her handle first. "I don't think we're going to run into any need for it but I'll feel better if someone with two available hands is ready. Just in case."

"Well if it will make you feel better Wilber," Yolonda said as she accepted the weapon, "Then I'll be happy to."

They had to watch their step as they traveled down the long slope of the passageway. The floor was as uneven as the walls. Though it was consistently tilted down towards the left hand wall. It's width remained fairly constant at about two arms but occasionally it narrowed a little to about one and a half arms. There were also a few spots where it widened out to nearly three arms. The 'ceiling' was less regular but there was only one place where it got closer than 3 arms to the floor. That was where a 3 arms width section was suddenly reduced to only one and a half arms wide and just 2 arms tall.

It was also here that you could hear the first faint echo of running water ahead. The passageway soon opened back up to 3 arms wide and nearly 4 arms tall. Then they saw it. there was a wide crack in the right hand wall about an arm above the floor. It extended for about ten arms and through it flowed a steam of cold water. It cascaded down to the floor, at which point the floors angle of decline began getting progressively steeper. The water formed a small stream that ran down the left hand side of the rapidly descending passageway until it reached a pool of water that filled the passageway. Which continued to descend until the ceiling touched the waters surface.

When they returned to the entrance they saw that George was working on a crude gate to the cave mouth. He had set a number of poles made from stout branches across most of the cave mouth, spaced half an arm apart. He then began weaving thinner green branches in and out around the poles. Thus reducing the spaces between the poles to narrow horizontal slits. George looked up from his handiwork.

"Well now I can't guarantee the varments can't get through this basket wall I'm weaving sir," he said. "By the time I'm done however, it'll at least slow them down. Plus I'm fairly sure that they won't be getting past it without making a bit of noise in the process. The door itself is going to be a bit more difficult but I'll get it done by nightfall sir."

"We've begun recharging the plasma cutter's power packs sir," Linda spoke up. "We also used one of the smaller solar collectors to begin putting a charge on Yolonda's sonic weapon. Then we networked all the remaining collectors to begin charging the other depleted power packs. Including some that should be compatible with the distillation unit."

"My best estimate says they should all have nearly a full charge by sunset," George added.

Over the next several days, which were 10% shorter than a galactic standard overcycle, they settled into a routine. They also made a few significant discoveries. One was that according to their scanner, the pool at the end of the passageway with the miniature waterfall was connected to a fairly large underground water system. In which they detected the presence of fish, not all of which turned out to be blind. Which suggested that somewhere the underground water system must be connected to surface water. Another was that several of the native plant forms could be classified as edible. One or two of them were even somewhat palatable. There were also a few plants that the bioscanner said were quite toxic. In particular there were some large thorny bushes scattered among the more useful trees, which they had decided to avoid altogether. They also discovered that there were squirrels living in some of the tree's. All of this was good news, because it gave them hope of survival past the limits of the survival rations that they had salvaged from the wreckage.

Better still, George was able to cobble together a somewhat dim light source using one of the smaller power packs and some spare indicator lights he'd happened to have in his pocket's when what was left of their life raft was tossed up onto the boulders. It would be useful when they needed to fetch water or perhaps to catch some fish from the stream at the back of the cave.

"What I don't understand," Yolonda was saying to Linda. "Is how we even had such a bounty of first class survival rations in the first place. Oh I'm not talking about how we salvaged what we could from the cargo pod we'd made into our life boat cabin, you understand. But rather how the pod itself happened to be half full of the stuff before we moved so much of it to the other pod to make enough elbow room. It doesn't quite make sense to me. I mean these are not the type of survival rations the Starskewer would have stocked the lifepods with. The shelf life isn't long enough. And while some of them are somewhat tasty, I'm fairly sure that Randy wouldn't have made a stash of dehydrated foodstock to supplement his kitchen supplies with."

"They must have been cargo bound for one of the 'new colony' worlds." Linda said.

"Except that I'm quite sure," Yolonda continued. "That the freightliner's shipping requirements called for 'whole pod' deliveries. So how could we wind up with a partially full pod?"

Linda thought for a few subcyclets.

"I think I've got it," Linda replied after a few subcyclet's thought. "Though I'm ashamed to say it means I screwed up. It was about 2 galactic standard years ago. We had a delivery for a new colony world that had just had a major political shake up. The new government wasn't willing to pay for the whole shipment. So we only released what they would pay for. The Captain insisted they get everything they did pay for. But not a bit more. So when the balance was no longer divisible by any of the remaining whole pods, he said to release a partial pod of the survival rations."

"Well that makes sense I guess," Yolonda reasoned. "But I wouldn't have thought Wilber would have violated company policy so lightly."

"He didn't!" Linda responded quickly. "I remember that he personally reimbursed the company ledger for the difference on the partial pod. Then he asked me to find some humanitarian cause that we could donate the rest to. Which is where I screwed up. We had an exceptionally busy stretch without any red ink to remind me. That I had failed to find a worthy cause for it."

"Well I wouldn't fret about that mistake much Linda," Yolonda said with a smile. "If you hadn't have made that particular omission. It's not likely that we'd have much of a food reserve to fall back on now, is it?" As she said this, Yolonda spotted Wilber returning from a hunt. "Please excuse me Linda, I'd like to have a word with the captain."

With that she got up from where she had been helping Linda prepare some of the local vegetation for a stew she was about to make with some of remaining dog-jerky. Yolonda quickly walked over to where the captain was handing 4 large squirrel carcasses to George.

"This should make for a nice change in tonight's stew," the captain was telling George. "From that dog-jerky that we're all tired of having. I'd like you to finish dressing these out for me. Your better at extracting all the meat without damaging the pelt. And as good as these blanket ponchos are, I think were going to need all the fur coats we can make."

"I'm sure, George doesn't mind Wilber," Yolonda interrupted before George could reply. "But while he's doing that, could I get you to take a walk with me? I really need some fresh air and I feel so much safer when your with me."

"I'd like to thank you again for donating your sonic gun to the hunt Yolonda," Wilber said as they walked along. "It does a fairly good job of knocking squirrels out of the trees. And unlike my pellet gun, It's not likely to run out of ammunition. Just so long as we continue to recharge the power supply kits."

"That's precisely why I volunteered it Wilber," Yolonda replied. "I mean I doubt you've got much more than a hundred pellets left. And what, probably three of those compressed air cartridges?"

"Almost three hundred pellets actually," he corrected. "But your right about the air packs. Which unfortunately are only good for a maximum of fifty shots apiece. So your not far wrong."

At this point Yolonda noticed that they had walked far enough to be out of sight from the cave entrance. She stopped suddenly and turned to face the captain.

"Actually Wilber," she began. "I've got a couple of things I've been meaning to talk to you about, privately."

"Oh Yolonda," Wilber chided. "There's no point in coming way out here for that. We've, neither of us, done a very good job of hiding our feelings from the others."

"No we haven't," Yolonda agreed. "That's not the only thing I want to talk to you about however... Oh Wilber, I don't know what to do about the feelings that have formed between us. But the reason I brought you out here is because I've come to a conclusion about our cave that you should know about. I don't know if your aware that my estranged husband had a doctorate in geology. Or that I used to be his best field assistant. But I assure you I'm speaking from experience when I tell you that there's something very strange about the cave." She silenced the reply Wilber had been about to make by gently placing her hand over his mouth.

"No Wilber," she continued. "Let me finish. I realized that it was a strange cave when we first explored it by torch light. I didn't say anything because I didn't understand how strange. So I pushed it out of my mind. But when we found out about the fish. Something just didn't add up. So I started looking a lot closer. About the only thing I can tell you for certain is that our cave wasn't formed by any natural process. It's like some high powered asteroid mining equipment began to process the rock mass. And then stopped in mid-process. Only this would have had to have happened at least several thousand years ago. Though frankly the caves structure isn't sound enough to have lasted that long. That is, unless there's something like a structural force field holding it all together. But that doesn't make any sense at all."

"Maybe not," Wilber agreed. "But it might have something to do with why there's no sign that any predator ever used it for a den. Perhaps the dogs know something we don't." He was silent for a couple of subcyclets before he continued. "Thank you for telling me this Yolonda. I'm not sure what to do about it though. If we moved out of the cave, the dogs would likely do for us the very first night."

Then he spent a few subcyclets pondering the problem.

"Now about the other thing Yolonda," he said at last. "What's on your mind?"

Yolonda blushed.

"Well you see Wilber," she began. "I'm not quite at peace with my feelings. You used to be a valuable employee with a profile that tickled my fancy. I'd never have dreamed that the reality of you could eclipse the fantasy image that I'm ashamed to admit I actually had. Then I met you in person. I was soon somewhat disillusioned. I thought it was just as well that I hadn't already chartered the Starskewer. It wasn't that I thought you and your crew wouldn't fit the job mind you. But I wasn't ready to deal with the constant reminder of how far off the mark my fantasy image of how you'd be was from the truth.

That all changed when we were attacked and you lived up to every single bit of reckless 'daring do' that my fantasy image would have foisted on you. Only for you, the universe didn't graciously let you save everyone. With my knowledge of the design of this ship. It wasn't hard for me to figure out what you had to have done and what you'd been up to that made it possible. To be honest, if by some miracle the warp field had formed in a viable enough pattern for you to stabilize it so that we got away clean, without casualties. I'd have had you fired for having disengaged the safety protocols in the first place." Wilber started to open his mouth to protest but Yolonda put up her hand over his mouth. "No Wilber, let me finish. I was that angry because I understood the risk you were taking in the name of profit or perhaps the Starskewer's reputation of being on schedule.

Who do you think wrote the company procedures you were violating anyway?" Yolonda didn't pause long enough for the captain to answer with more than his eyes. "When I woke up on board that ridiculous life boat you and George slapped together. I saw the reality of a man who was half dead with grief for the lives that had been lost. I saw then how hard you worked to keep your despair from showing. Then I realized that the only thing keeping you alive was because you refused to let the few you had been able to save down. Then for the first time, you became more real to me than the fantasy that nobody could have lived up to. I realized that you had probably done all the tinkering yourself. Not because George wouldn't have. That man would do anything for you and I mean anything. As would Linda. I also saw that same fierce loyalty in Randy. When I understood that, I had to wonder why. Then I knew that the reason you did it yourself was because in the event that you got caught you didn't intend to share any of the blame.

That's when I knew how loyal you were to your crew. I'd bet you even officially gave George something else to do. So the records would cast reasonable doubt on the fact that he knew what you were up to. That's when I changed my mind and decided to like you. It wasn't long after that, that Mathieu's rage caught you off guard. For a while there I thought we were going to lose you. And it scared me so silly, I began to realize that I was falling for the imperfect reality of you. Harder than I ever could have for my fantasy version. It wasn't fair. I'm already in my twilight years you know. It wouldn't be fair to you if I found a way to touch your heart. Then when I first saw the way you'd begun to look at me. I thought you had simply become infatuated with your nurse. But now I've come to think that it might really be more than that. Which makes me afraid that I'm the one who's infatuate..."

Wilber silenced Yolonda by covering her mouth but not with his hand.

"Didn't that feel like reality Yolonda?" Wilber asked when the kiss ended. Then without waiting for an answer he continued. "Yes I was grateful for the nursing that no doubt saved my life. But that wasn't what made me look at you that way. You may remember I said something about being 'able to do worse' when you first warned me how others might view our sudden use of familiar names for each other. I meant it. And that was before I really got to know you. If I still had my ship, I'd have been able to resist the feelings that have grown within my heart. But I don't, so I can't.

The only thing that's kept me from pressing the point with you. Is that I'm afraid that if Mr. Naville sees me getting to have someone to love. He might decide to revenge his wife upon me by harming you."

Suddenly the Captain stepped back and produced both the sonic stunner in one hand and his pellet gun in the other. As he did so he slightly defocused the stunner with his thumb and discharged it blindly over his shoulder as he simultaneously fired a half dozen pellets, in rapid succession over Yolonda's shoulder. The 'yelp' of pain he heard behind him told him he'd made the right move as he saw two dogs fall dead before they could reach Yolonda from behind. Without hesitation he spun on his heel and put a pellet in the eye socket of the disoriented dog that had been sneaking up on him. As he did this he reached back with the hand holding the stunner, handing it to Yolonda.

"It's got less than half a charge left," was all he said.

Even as she took it he performed a pirouette that would have made any ballerino proud, firing 3 more of his precious pellets into another attacking dog. As he did this he used his now empty hand to pull an antique whistle, he'd inherited from his father, out from under his shirt where it hung on a chain. He proceeded to blow an extremely piercing rendition of a truly ancient navel call, while firing yet another 3 pellets at a fifth dog.

When George arrived on the scene, lugging the plasma cutter at a dead run, he found his captain standing back to back with Miss Heroner. While a dozen wary dogs circled at a respectful distance. But even as he started to take aim with the plasma cutter, all the dogs suddenly turned tail and disappeared into the terrain.

"Are you alright captain?" George Bellowed as he continued to approach.

"We are now," captain Rivermon replied. "Thanks! I think those mutts have begun to recognize the plasma cutter."

"And I thought those dogs only liked to hunt at night," George interrupted. "What set them off?"

"My Stupidity," his captain replied. "I'm afraid we let our guard down and I guess they noticed. Still, it is broad daylight. Judging from their earlier behavior patterns that must mean they are getting so hungry that their becoming less cautious. I think we may need to be extra careful from now on..."

The captains voice trailed off as he noticed the look on George's face.

"You may be right about the dogs," George said with a shake of his head. "Frankly sir, I'm more concerned about why you let your guard down in the first place." Then as the Captain opened his mouth to speak he cut him off. "Let me finish sir! You don't have to tell me what distracted you two so much that the dogs noticed. There isn't one of us that don't already know, including that jerk, Naville. I've heard him muttering about it. There's no point in trying to keep it a secret. To tell you the truth, if you think it's the real thing, then I'm happy for both of you. But the next time you feel like your going to let your guard down, do it in the cave where both Linda and I can watch your back. Or if you need a bit more privacy than Linda & I bothered with a couple of nights ago. Then we'll guard Mr. Naville instead. Am I making myself clear sir?"

"It's really that obvious?" Yolonda queried.

"Yes!" George replied. "You've got both Linda and myself so worried about how Naville might react. That Linda even suggested last night, that she could offer to deal with his needs. To keep him from getting too jealous."

"And you'd be OK with that?" Wilber asked.

"I told her that was her decision," George replied. "It's not like we have the kind of thing that you two obviously do. She is a dear friend, as well as my shipmate but we don't own each other. Besides Linda likes men about the same way as I like women. My only objection is I'd like to be sure I was close enough to kill the man, if he tried to hurt her."

"Not if I got there first," the captain advised.

As they talked, both George and his captain made a pointed display of trying to spot the dogs that they knew must be watching them. Yolonda, who'd been mostly standing there with a horrified look on her face at the sacrifice Linda was thinking of making, suddenly interrupted the men.

"Boys, I think maybe we should finish this conversation after we get back to the cave," she suggested. "It's not dark yet but it won't be much longer you know."

"True enough," the Captain said. Then with a quick look at the dead dogs he added, "I hate to waste all this meat. But I don't think Yolonda is strong enough to swing that plasma torch around convincingly enough for it to be safe for both of us to safely carry dog carcasses."

"Maybe not sir," George replied. "But sunset's far enough away that I've enough time to cut all the best meat off them. I could cut strips from one of the pelts to tie it all into a bundle that I could manage while you carried the torch."

"That sounds like a plan." Wilber agreed.

"But any fatty tissue I might have salvaged for torch or candle would go to waste," Yolonda protested. "Why not just skin and slaughter the leanest mutt and see if you can make two bundles instead of just one? I may be a far cry from a youngling. But if somebody will strap it on my back. Without making me bend over, I can haul the steaks and one of the dogs back to the cave."

"Do you realize how much dog blood you'd get on your clothes that way?" Wilber cautioned.

"Good point," She acknowledged. "There's no telling how long it will take to make half decent replacements. Wilber, would it interfere with your ability to wield that torch effectively if we found a way to put our cloths on your back until we get back to the cave? Then before the boys could protest she added, Don't worry, I've never been ashamed of my body. And we all know that George doesn't have any false modesty."

As soon as she'd said that Yolonda started to disrobe.

"It'll save time if I tie our cloths into a sling sized loop," she explained. "While you cut up the lean dog, George. So get out of those clothes."

George just looked at his captain, who shrugged.

"It would be pointless to argue with her logic," Wilber concluded.

While George sliced up the carcass, the captain told him about Yolonda's theory about the cave. Then he asked him if they had the parts to convert one of the scanners into a 'deep penetration' tactical scanner.

When they got back to the cave they found the gate lashed shut. As Yolonda quickly untied it, they noticed some distinctive noises coming from within. As soon as the gate was re-lashed they approached the fireplace chamber where by the light of the fire they had a clear view of the source of the noise. Mr. Naville's naked form was laying on it's back while Linda, who was also naked, was straddling him. The 'couple' were obviously busy enjoying the conclusion of their lewd performance.

"While you were gone I had a little heart to heart with Mathieu," Linda explained later. "He doesn't expect to have me to himself. Don't look at me like that Yolonda. I didn't do this only for you. It only makes sense that unless one of us is willing to take care of the needs of more than one man. Then sooner or later having more men than woman was going to lead to problems. Besides I've always hated the idea of having to be monogamous."

In the meantime, after he was done slaughtering the remaining dogs. George took his turn washing the gore off at the cave's spring. Then he began disassembling the scanners in preparation to turning their parts into a 'deep scan' tactical scanner. He had to be very careful. He couldn't afford to damage any of the parts.

They soon settled into a new routine. Yolonda and the Captain slept in the small sandy floored chamber. The other three bunked near the fireplace in what they had begun to call the 'Lodge'. Since neither George nor Linda were bashful and Mathieu actually enjoyed flaunting his nightly activity. It didn't matter that Wilber and Yolonda needed to cut through the 'Lodge' on their way in or out of what they'd begun calling the 'honeymoon suite'. Whoever had the watch would need to tend the fire anyway. Whenever she wasn't sleeping, Yolonda's primary task, once George had cobbled together a deepscan device, was the tedious task of running a scan on each and every square arm of the wall, floor and ceiling in the entire cave.

She started at the 'spring' and slowly worked her way forward. It took her three days to reach the 'Lodge' It was approaching midday of the fourth day that she began to scan a flat area of 'wall' between the 'fireplace' and the 'Honeymoon Suite'. When she did however, several things happened at once.

The scanner short circuited. It had an instantaneous total meltdown. The plasma torch, which wasn't even in use at the time simultaneously had a similar melt down. The heat was severe enough to reduce both devices to a liquid state. Yolonda became aware that somehow none of the heat had been conducted to her hand. Then there was a loud grinding noise of stone sliding on stone as the massive stone slab underneath the outer cave entrance raised up, sealing it off and reducing George's 'gate' to splinters. Linda, who had been washing herself at the 'spring' suddenly became aware that a small 'geyser like' up welling of water started to spray out of the 'fishing hole' that normally served as a drain for the spring.

The passageway began filling with water. She wisely didn't take the time to get dressed. But rather grabbed the light and her clothes. Then she ran naked up the passageway. The whole way through the long narrow passage she was screaming as loud as she could, "Get out! Get out. Grab the stuff quick and get get the zap out of the cave. Hurry! Get out! Get out..."

When she reached the outer chamber and saw that the cave entrance was blocked, she thought they were all going to drown. But at that point, that flat section of cave wall that Yolonda had just started to scan, began to glow a soft shade of blue. A large bright red rectangular outline appeared in the center of it. Then with an audible click, the rectangular section suddenly recessed as it quickly sunk into the cave wall. Until it was recessed about eight arms deep. Then with another click, an interior corridor was suddenly revealed by virtue of being illuminated with a soft blue light. At this point the water filling the other passage began to spill into the Entrance chamber.

"I think somebody wants us to go that way," the captain said

"Could be a trap of some kind," warned George.

"Could be," the captain agreed. "But it doesn't look like we have much choice. Everybody grab an armload of provisions and get in there. George, you go first. See if you can find a control that looks like we might be able to close that door before the water reaches it."

Everyone was obviously frightened by the sudden change in the cave that they had thought of as a shelter. But the captain could see that Mr Naville was in a state of pure panic. When he grabbed an armful of emergency rations and ran inside. "Close it!" he screamed at George. "Close it before we drown. What are you waiting for, there's no time to wait for them, close it now!"

While Mathieu was busy demanding that George slam the door on the others, Yolonda and Linda stepped through the open door. Then the captain tossed an armful of provisions through the door and grabbed another before he retreated into the illuminated corridor.

"OK George," he said as he stepped inside. "Better close it now, the water's almost here."

"I wish I could," George replied. "But I can't find anything that looks even remotely like a control panel."

"Idiot!" Mathieu screamed at George. "Your stupidity has killed us all." Then looking back at the open door Mathieu added in a weakly whimpering voice, "Were all doomed!"

That's when the water reached the threshold. At which point the door closed itself so rapidly. That none of the water made it inside the illuminated corridor.

Chapter 45 a rude awakening

The captain judged that the corridor was about 11 arms wide and about 5 arms tall. It's walls were as perfectly vertical as it's ceiling and floor were horizontal. The surfaces were smooth, without discernible imperfections. The blue light emanated from all four surfaces. The air was considerably warmer than the cave had been. The air was dust free and there wasn't any odor that Captain Rivermon could detect. There were no visible signs of any mechanism that could have operated the door. In fact, once the red glow that had marked it's outline faded, there was no visible sign of the existence of the door itself.

The blue light extended about 20 arms in both directions along the featureless corridor. One subcyclet after the door had shut there was a distinct 'click'. The sound was accompanied by a change in the illumination. Suddenly the blue light only extended about 15 arms down the right hand section of corridor. While just as suddenly it now extended approximately 25 arms down the left hand section of corridor.

"Quickly!" the captain commanded. "Rebundle the supplies into manageable packages and get ready to start walking."

George began picking up the loose emergency ration kits that had spilled across the floor when the captain threw his first armload of supplies through the doorway. When George reached one that had slid up against the far wall he froze for a moment. The captain noticed an odd expression on his face as he picked it up. By then another subcyclet had passed and there was another 'click'. The illuminated section of corridor now only extended about 10 arms to the right. While to the left, it now appeared to extend for 30 arms.

"It doesn't look like we have time to get fancy with the repackaging of those supplies," the captain advised. "I judge that we will need to start walking in less than 2 subcyclets."

Meanwhile the girls had begun wrapping piles of the supplies with the poncho style blanket coats that nobody needed to wear anymore. Using them like crude carry sacks. Upon observing the method, both George and his captain began working from the other end of the five piles.

"What did you notice over there?" Wilber quietly asked George as they began working on their first package.

He gestured towards the far wall with his chin. 'Click.' Now the light only extended 5 arms to the right, and about 35 arms to the left.

"It's probably just me sir," George replied as they began working on their second bundle. "But I think the corridor's proportions are exceedingly precise sir."

Wilber knew from long experience that his senior tech had the knack of accurately measuring distances. Simply by pacing the length of them with a uniform stride.

"Exactly 11 arms is it?" the Captain asked.

'Click.'

"OK that's it people," the Captain said as he lifted his package. "It's time to start moving."

By now even Mathieu had figured out why they needed to start walking and while he hadn't helped the girls repackage any of the supplies, he did pick up the bundle wrapped with his poncho and begin walking. They had just barely walked 5 arms when the next 'click' signaled another light shift.

"Step lively now," Wilber commanded. "I want 10 arms in the next subcyclet."

'Click.'

Nobody wanted to be left in the dark, so it didn't take many more 'clicks', for them to catch up to the center of the moving band of illumination. George walked along beside his Captain.

"I doubt there's more than a 1 percent variance sir," George said quietly. "If that. How did you know?"

Wilber had an innate sense of time. He'd never needed to consult a timepiece to accurately count the cyclets go by.

"You mentioned precision George," Wilber replied. "And if the time between these light shifts are any indication, I'm betting we won't find anything here that isn't precisely measured by galactic standards."

"That's my opinion as well," Yolonda interjected.

Neither George, nor Wilber had noticed Yolonda walking closer to them. As they began having what they had thought was a private conversation.

"What it means though is anyone's guess," she continued.

'Click.'

Yolonda was the first to notice a slight difference in their view of the forward most illuminated section. The walls appeared to suddenly stop. The last 5 arms of illumination appeared to show part of a larger opening.

"Look!" was all she said.

They hesitated on the threshold of the open space. Only an 11 arm wide section of it's floor and ceiling were illuminated. And while the length of that illumination continued to advance with each 'click', very little of the open space on either side of the illuminated section could be seen.

"Could be a trap sir," Linda observed.

"Could be," Wilber replied. "But from what I've seen so far, whoever's behind this could do whatever they want with us whether or not we go in there."

'Click.'

Now there were only 10 arms of illumination behind them.

"Besides, I don't see that we have a lot of choice here," Yolonda added.

Having said that, she walked forward into the large room.

"She's right," Wilber said with a shrug. "Lets go people."

Mathieu was the last one to enter the chamber. He stepped through right after the next 'click' signaled the advance of the illumination to within 5 arms of the threshold. No sooner had Mathieu stepped inside however, than the pattern of illumination changed. There was a distinct, and significantly louder 'click'.

Something sealed the doorway they had entered the chamber from. George had just glanced back to see if Mathieu had started walking again yet. He didn't see where the new door came from but he saw the red outline as it sealed shut and vanished without a trace on the featureless wall of the chamber. As the red outline faded, the light level in the large chamber began to increase. Slowly a large section of ceiling and floor began to glow with the blue light. While in the center of the huge chamber, a smaller enclosure began to glow with a red light.

"Looks like this chamber consists of a square about 120 arms wide," George assessed. "It's also about half that tall. That red enclosure in the middle also looks like it's a square. I'd say about 22 arms wide, by 11 tall. It looks to me like it's walls are becoming translucent."

As they watched, the walls of the red enclosure soon faded from slightly translucent to very transparent. Inside there was a single oblong horizontal platform, that measured approximately 5 by 3 arms. It was raised about 1 arm from the floor of the enclosure. The only other discernible feature of the enclosure was the humanoid shape that was reclined upon it's platform. It looked like a man, whose physique was that of someone in his first two hundred years of age. He was wearing a thin, open necked shirt with sleeves that fell short of his elbows. His pants were constructed of a somewhat heavier material which matched the outer layer of an open sleeveless vest that was worn over the thin shirt. He was also wearing some kind of boots. There were wide metallic armbands that extended from his wrists, halfway to his elbows. He was also completely bald. There wasn't the slightest trace of hair on any of his exposed skin.

Suddenly his lashless eyes snapped open. He sat up and turned his head towards them with an expression that didn't look like he was happy with what he saw. He touched his left armband with his right hand and the glowing red enclosure became suddenly opaque and dark. Then just as suddenly it's walls dissolved into nothingness along with the platform the strange man had been reclining on. In it's place, he was standing in the middle of what used to be the red enclosure.

The light emanating from the ceiling of the central chamber rapidly shifted through the spectrum from red, to a bright full spectrum glow resembling slightly diffused sunlight. As this happened, all of the floors and walls ceased to glow. Though the colors they used to glow reflected from their surfaces. That is to say the walls and most of the floor in this huge open chamber were still blue in color. While the section of floor that used to be part of the inner enclosure was red.

"My computer tells me you've been squatting in my cave," the stranger spoke in a long outdated style of galactic interspeak.

In the bright untinted light, it could now be seen that his pants and vest were a nearly uniform shade of light blue. His boots were black and his shirt was an explosion of colors. Looking like small quantities of various fabric dyes had been randomly splattered over it's surface. The stranger's skin was almost devoid of pigment, having a pale gray appearance. As the stranger spoke, a series of small lights flickered across the surface of his wristbands.

"Didn't know that we were trespassing," captain Rivermon replied. "But truthfully, it wouldn't have mattered if we had. There were some wild dogs that would have killed all of us had we remained above ground. I'm captain Rivermon. I commanded the starship we crashed in."

"Yes!" the stranger replied in a slightly halting fashion that sounded as if he had gone a long time without actually speaking. "My computer confirms you had some skirmishes with the dogs."

"If you knew of our predicament," Yolonda demanded. "Why didn't you intervene?"

"At the time Miss Heroner," the stranger replied. "I was in hypersleep and didn't actually know. But even if I had, I was under no obligation to help you kill my dogs."

"Your dogs?" George sputtered.

"Would you mind expounding on that sir?" captain Rivermon asked tensely.

"If you must know Wilber, I'm responsible for most of the lifeforms on this planet. That is to say that with the help of my computer, I've been maintaining the biosphere they depend on. There have been a few occasions where I've taken direct action to prevent some species or other from becoming extinct. However, neither my computer nor myself intervene very often. I've been monitoring the dogs fairly closely because of all the animal species here, they have shown the greatest growth in intelligence. In any case, my computer's standing orders prevented it from waking me ahead of schedule. Until that is, you discovered the presence of my technology. It was unfortunate that you arrived on my island just one lunar cycle before the next tidal alignment."

"You seem to have us at a disadvantage sir," the captain inquired. "You appear to have an intimate knowledge of who we are. Whereas we don't even know your name." Then before the stranger answered the captain added, "What does the tide have to do with it anyway?"

"True enough, from the moment you took up residence in the cave, my computer began listening to every sound you made. I've been reviewing the transcripts of those recordings as we speak."

"My name is another matter," the stranger went on to explain. "I've been known by many different names. Sometimes it is hard to choose which one to embrace this time around. This decision is not made any easier by my having been awakened ahead of schedule to deal with your intrusion. Until I complete my decision, 'sir' will be sufficient.

Now as to what the tide has to do with it, is a hunting technique many of the region's dog packs have developed over the past 2000 years. There are several islands in this region that are attached to the mainland by submerged land bridges. In most cases the land bridges are exposed at every low tide. The dogs have noticed that it's easier to herd their preferred prey across an exposed tidal land bridge, then guard the way back until the tide comes in so that their prey can't escape. Then in the relatively small land area of the island they can hunt them at their leisure.

As it happens, the land bridge connecting this island to the mainland, is only exposed when the alignment of the moon and sun occurs in such a way as to produce an exceptionally low tide in this geographic region. Which occurs on average, once every 5 lunar cycles. So when they happen to use this island, they tend to run short of food before they get to return to the mainland.

This makes them more aggressive than normal. In any case, until you discovered the presence of my technology, my computer's instructions prevented it from disturbing me." The strange man looked closely at each of them before he continued speaking.

"Now however, I've got to decide what to do about you," the hairless man explained. "There is a distinct possibility that you will not be happy with my decision. In the mean time however, I may as well be a good host and offer you a few of the comforts you have obviously been lacking." He pointed at the wall behind them, in which an open doorway suddenly formed. "In there you will find shelves full of fresh clothing in a variety of sizes and colors.

You will also find a shower facility as well as a couple of open topped containers. A cylindrical laundry hamper and a rectangular trash receptacle. Any garment you place in the cylindrical container will be cleaned and returned to you. If your wearing anything that you don't want back. Just place it in the rectangular container and it will be disposed of. Then when your sufficiently refreshed, return to this chamber and I'll see that you get a decent meal."

Captain Rivermon, wasn't overly pleased with the commanding tone in the stranger's voice but he was very aware of how their appearance had deteriorated since the Starskewer crashed.

"Alright people," he said to his companions. "Lets take our, umm, host, up on his generous offer and go freshen up."

Then, before any of them had a chance to argue, he quickly led the way through the open doorway. The personal grooming facilities were clean and fairly complete. About the only thing that was missing was any provision for personal privacy. But they had all outgrown being shy with each other about their bodies. So that wasn't much of a problem. Most of the facilities were also of a sufficiently familiar design that they needed neither the archaic interspeak instructions to identify and operate the shower nor the toilet facilities they found there.

The depilatory system was another matter however. It bore no resemblance to anything like the hand held devices they were familiar with. But the instruction plaque on the small three sided booth was quite specific. The hair trimming tool itself was fairly obvious. The instructions said to start by using it to shorten the length of any desirable hair to it's intended length. Then to apply some of the provided protective gel to any hair you wanted to keep and select the appropriate start button for permanent or temporary depilation. The instructions said that the process would also automatically remove all residue of the protective gel. Captain Rivermon had just finished dressing in a blue set of the clean, loose fitting, and rather comfortable clothes, with matching cloth sided boots. When he decided the instructions on the depilatory system were clear enough.

So he quickly trimmed his mustache and hair. Then he carefully applied the protective gel to those parts of his head where he wanted to keep his hair, This included his eyebrows, his mustache and the top and back of his head. Finally when he was happy with the protection, he decided that he may as well select the permanent depilatory process. This was a choice he instantly regretted. For no sooner had he pressed the activation button than all the unprotected hair on his entire body vanished with a flash of green light, along with his new blue clothes. He found the absence of his chest and armpit hair slightly more disturbing than his missing pubic hair. But what really annoyed him was the fact that he had forgotten to protect his eyelashes.

When Wilber turned around, Mathieu started to laugh. A heartbeat later, Mathieu suddenly stopped laughing as he caught sight of the look in Wilber's eyes. Nobody spoke as he selected another blue outfit. But as he dressed, Yolonda broke the strained silence.

"Don't worry Wilber," she said with a smile. "I've always liked bare chested men."

Then she removed the pink outfit she had just donned and stepped into the depilatory booth. She carefully applied gel to her long hair and eyebrows. Then she turned and faced the Captain.

"Wilber would it make you feel better about it if we were a matching set?," she asked. "Or would you mind if I keep my lashes?"

"Yes, and no," he replied. "It makes me feel a bit better to know that you would even consider such a thing Yolonda. But I think it would be a shame to destroy those nice long eyelashes of yours. Don't you?"

Yolonda quickly applied some gel to her eyelashes.

"The good news is this stuff doesn't sting the eyes at all," Yolonda said.

Then she also selected the permanent cycle and got dressed. Both George and Mathieu decided to keep their body hair. George selected the temporary depilatory cycle to remove only the unwanted beard and mustache that he had started to grow. While Mathieu carefully protected his freshly trimmed beard, hair, eyebrows and eyelashes. Then he pressed the permanent depilatory start button. Finally Linda carefully applied gel to all forms of hair located anywhere on her head and carefully applied some more to form a heart shaped section of her pubic hair. Then she used the permanent depilatory cycle to eliminate the rest of her body hair.

Mathieu selected a bright red set of clothes, while both George and Linda chose black. When they were all dressed, they returned to the main room to find their nameless 'host' sitting at a large round wooden table around which there were six wooden chairs. Each of which had an antique dinnerware place setting in front of it. There were covered ceramic bowls with a triangular shape and an intricate gold and silver decorative pattern on them. Under the bowls were matching plates. Beside each plate were a set of metal utensils and a large red translucent cup that looked as if it had been carved out of a massive gemstone. In the middle of the table were an assortment of large covered bowls and a collection of large serving forks and scoops.

"Sit down," their 'host' commanded. "Try the vegetable soup. There are three different casseroles to choose from for the main course. Then, after dinner, we will discuss your future."

Dinner turned out to be delicious. Though aside from things like asking them what they would like to drink, their host didn't seem inclined to start or prolong any casual dinner conversation topics. Though he responded politely to various trivial topics. He had pointedly ignored any attempt to discuss serious issues such as, 'What about their future?' and any inquiries as to his name. Eventually however, nobody wanted anything else to eat or drink. Then the nameless man sat back and touched one of his wristbands. Then the dinnerware and serving bowls, along with any other trace of the meal they had just eaten was all invisibly lifted from the table. It all quickly disappeared through an opening that briefly appeared in the ceiling.

"Now we can discuss your future," the strange hairless man said. "But before you ask, let me tell you what the possibilities are. Along with why it's any of my concern. You need to understand that I've invested considerable time on this planet's biosphere and some of the lifeforms within it. I took great care to select a world that wasn't likely to be interfered with by any of the known spacefaring peoples. It's too remote to be of much interest to most potential colonists. And it hasn't any rare minerals that couldn't be synthesized cheaper than the cost of shipping anything to market from here.

If you had been rescued before discovering my presence, my computer would simply have quietly infected all the computer systems of the rescue craft. With a specialized piece of viral software that would have made it difficult for anyone to find their way back here. But you see, once certain organizations learn that anyone even remotely like me was ever here. Sufficient resources would be deployed as to ensure that it would be eventually found. There are in fact only two ways for me to protect any of the lifeforms I've nurtured here. I can either visibly leave this place in such a way that those organizations would have no doubt that I've left nothing worth the time to find the place. Or I can prevent you from telling anyone I'm here. Frankly, that would have been the easiest solution if it wasn't for the fact that sooner or later someone is bound to trace your distress beacon..."

"Distress beacon?" the captain protested. "Had the cargo pod with most of our equipment not been lost in the sea, we might have modified a beacon to transmit a tight beam signal to one of the strongholds of civilization. But since it was lost we didn't get to set up such a signal."

"Really?" the stranger inquired. "Then how do you account for the encoded gravitic pulse that's emitting twice a subcyclet from a device on the seabed just off shore from my island?"

"I can't," the captain replied. "Unless..." Suddenly the captain turned to face Mathieu. "What might you know of this Mr Naville?"

The intense look on the captain's face made Mathieu nervous.

"Why ask me?" he replied.

"Because," the captain explained. "None of my crew would have been stupid enough to initialize an unshielded omnidirectional transmitter here. This planet is far too remote to expect that any civilized transport might respond before one of the marauding pirate vessels tracked such a signal. So that leaves just Yolonda or you. And aside from her obvious intelligence, your the only one among us who's clung to the belief that someone would find us."

"I'm afraid I don't see the problem captain Rivermon," the strange man interrupted. "Surely any such pirates would notice the planet's lack of technology and move on. Why would they waste the time to extract you?"

"Because the only gravitic pulse transmitter that was on board the other cargo pod," Wilber replied. "Was part of the salvageable remains of the system core of an old lifepod. It's signal would automatically identify our ship."

"And that's a problem because?" the stranger prompted.

"In the process of escaping their clutches," the captain explained. "I managed to engage a damaged warp field generator at point blank range to a couple of their ships."

"Elevate passive scan rate to active threat assessment levels," the stranger began barking orders in a crisp commanding tone to some unseen presence.

Whatever else the strange man might have been about to say was suddenly lost in the wake of a sudden piercing alarm accompanied by a holographic image of a 'tactical threat' view of the planet.

"Initiate active sensor patterns," the stranger continued instructing the unseen presence.

The 'threat' display expanded to a larger, view with more detail. It showed a fleet of 9 dreadnought class battleships, along with one superdreadnought. All ten ships appeared to be launching a steady stream of projectiles towards them at near relativistic speeds. Meanwhile the stranger had continued to issue orders.

"Primary reactors, emergency start, he commanded. "Engage planetary defense screen."

As he issued these orders, the stranger was staring intently at the holographic display. He appeared oblivious to their continued presence. Then after changing the scope of the holographic display a few times, his shoulders sagged slightly and his voice changed from that of a commanding officer to that of a tired old man.

"Project best remaining option," he said.

It was evident from the stranger's demeanor that he already knew the answer before his computer responded and that he wasn't happy with it. Not happy at all.

"Transvengeance procedure 'double prime' recommended," A slightly mechanical reproduction of the stranger's voice said.

"So be it!" the stranger said as he slowly squared his shoulders.

His voice and his face filling with anger. For the first time since the alarm sounded, the stranger appeared to notice his 'guests'. He surveyed them with a sweeping glance that hesitated briefly on Mathieu. As he did so the anger visible in his eyes appeared to double.

"It is fortunate for you," he said with a voice that left no doubt as to the fury he was holding in check. "That I do not believe stupidity is in itself sufficient grounds for execution Mr Naville."

Then with obvious effort he shifted his attention to all five of his 'guests' as a whole.

"As you may have noticed, this world is being attacked by a massive barrage of projectiles approaching at relativistic velocities. What you might not understand is that the leading edge of these projectiles is already so close. That the heat generated as my planetary defense systems stop them from impacting on the surface, will undoubtedly raise the atmospheric temperature enough to incinerate all land bound life and then bring the sea itself to a full boil.

Tactical battle plans and escape route options are being downloaded into my personal star shuttle," he informed them. "Which is even now being prepped for an emergency launch. If any of you would like any chance of surviving this day, I suggest you follow me."

Then without further explanation the stranger started to walk towards the far end of the room. After taking three steps he turned his head to look back over his shoulder at his confused 'guests'. Then he spoke just one more word, "Now!"

Somehow none of them had the slightest doubt that their very lives depended on following the nameless stranger. The captain alone had the strength of will to question the stranger's authority. Even so, he had no doubt that he had better not let his doubts slow down his feet.

"What battle? Which escape?" He demanded as soon as his people had matched pace with the stranger.

"The battle with those planet killing marauders you stirred up," the stranger said with an exaggerated air of impatience. "And that 'that idiot' lead here. It's already too late to save the biosphere that I've been nurturing for so long. There's only one possible escape from it before the effects of their mass drivers destroy everything in it. There will be no time for your questions, until after the battle. Assuming we survive it. So for now do shut up."

As he said this the wall they were approaching dissolved. Before them was a large spherical chamber, with a grid like suspended floor. It contained what looked like a fairly large space shuttle, with an antiquated hull design. It was held in place, just one subarm above the floor grid, by a huge manipulator arm/cradle assembly. As they followed the strange man into the spherical room the wall reformed behind them. There was a large cargo sized airlock in what appeared to be the back end of the vessel. The stranger stepped inside and gestured for them to follow.

"Dragonfly launch minus four subcyclets," the mechanical voice echoed around them. "Depressurization of launch bay will commence at launch minus one subcyclet."

It didn't take long for them all to get the idea and step inside the airlock. When the inner door opened, the stranger led them through a storage area. He pointed at an empty storage bin.

"You can toss all that crap your still carrying around with you in there," the stranger said gruffly as he continued walking. "It will be safely preserved by a stasis field. Then, once you've unloaded all those hazardous loose objects, you'll find acceleration couches in here." As he said that he stepped through the hatchway into the next chamber. He turned to briefly face them through the open hatchway. "I'd appreciate it if everyone could take a seat in one of these inertia dampened couches sometime in the next two subcyclets. I'd prefer not having to clean what will otherwise be left of you off the walls." Then he turned and was gone.

Captain Rivermon decided to believe the stranger was serious when he implied what would happen if they weren't sitting on the 'couches' he'd mentioned by the time they launched. So he tossed his bundle in the bin and barked, "You heard the man, toss your packs in there and go find a seat."

Mathieu didn't appear responsive, so Wilber pulled his pack out of his limp hands. Then after tossing Mathieu's pack after his own, he guided him through the hatch and gently pushed him into one of the nine identical couches that were in three rows of three. There were two narrow pathways in between the three rows of seats. He turned to tell the others to hurry, but found they didn't need to be told as they were all busy finding a seat. This left captain Rivermon the last one to sit down. Which he did with only a heartbeat to spare before some kind of restraint forcefield pulled everyone's arms and legs into position on the leg and arm rests. For another heartbeat the captain noticed that the seat was more comfortable than it looked. Then the shuttle was launched and all he was aware of was that it felt as if a massive weight was crushing him to pulp. Except that somehow it didn't actually hurt and his body wasn't damaged by the force that he was nonetheless quite certain was absolutely real. A single heartbeat later a large hologram at the front of the passenger cabin suddenly displayed something similar to the 'tactical threat' view they had seen on the planet that was now far below them.

"Stand by for evasive maneuvers." the stranger's voice, which was coming from some unseen intercom system, warned them. "My inertial compensator systems should prevent any actual injuries that the maneuvers might otherwise cause you. However abruptly intense maneuvering can still be very disconcerting.

As they heard this, the holographic display showed that some of the dreadnoughts were firing particle stream weapons at them. There was an abrupt lurch to one side which would have been lethal if the inertial dampers of the acceleration couches hadn't compensated for it. The first volley of particle streams missed.

"Lock-all on target 3. Maximum overload plus 10 percent. Fire!" the strangers voice sounded from the open intercom.

The interior lights dimmed. The holographic display flickered and the distinct smell of something burning filled the air. A moment later the holographic display showed a massive explosion on the nearest dreadnought.

"Target 3 incapacitated," a mechanical voice reported. "Weapon systems offline. Warning, target 4 approaching interception point."

There was another lurch and the position of the dreadnought labeled '4' was suddenly directly behind them. Meanwhile the strangers voice could still be heard.

"Rig primary transduction thrusters for raw pseudo-particle injection," their 'pilot's' voice commanded. "Maximum overload plus 20%. Engage thrusters."

This time the acceleration did hurt, in spite of the inertial compensators in the acceleration couches. The holographic display showed 12 red lines representing a volley of particle streams emanating towards them from the dreadnought behind them and a pair of bright white lines from the rear of the shuttle which was suddenly moving much faster. Most of the red lines missed, though one did hit them. At the same moment, their twin streams of raw pseudo-particles punched a hole in the dreadnought. A heartbeat later, one of it's primary reactors exploded.

"Target 4 eliminated," the mechanical voice said. "Aft defense shield offline. Aft hull compromised. Storage area decompressed. Seedpod and related genetic material storage systems are intact." Then the massive thrust suddenly faded. "Transduction thruster systems offline. Prime target approaching. Warning planetary detonation eminent."

"Launch message pod now!" their pilot's voice commanded. "Engage stasis pulse defense shield now!"

There was a momentary sensation of discontinuity. Then Wilber's eyes focused on the tactical display which now showed that they were rapidly hurtling on a new trajectory. Which now passed closely by the planet. It also showed that the superdreadnought was in pursuit. It was rapidly gaining on them.

"What the void just happened?" Wilber muttered to nobody in particular.

"You might all be pleased to note," their pilot's voice informed them. "That according to my bioscanners, your brief exposure to a ship wide stasis field has not nudged any of you into stasis saturation. What happened Wilber is that I baited the superdreadnought with a message pod filled with nearly five spheres of synthuel. Which I launched directly at it just before using a pulse powered stasis envelope to shield us from the blast that resulted from the superdreadnought's defense system's automatic targeting of all incoming projectiles.

The message pod never got close enough to the superdreadnought to do more than superficial damage, of course. However the tactic seems to have successfully goaded their commander into giving chase. This will place it too close to the planet to escape the blast. When all the nanomorphic material that my base was constructed from expends itself focusing the energy that will be released when it detonates the 900 spheres of synthuel in it's containment system.

The subspatial 'void' won't come into it unless I've achieved sufficient escape velocity and distance to open a rift before the shockwaves of that same blast reaches our position. Which is why I'm spending so much of our remaining power to accelerate our escape vector." Their pilot's voice began instructing the ship's computer. "Energize the rift generator now! Rig for manual insertion."

"Planetary detonation in process," the computer's mechanical voice warned. "Shockwave will intersect our position in 2 subcyclets. Estimated rift penetration in 1.5 subcyclets."

"It's going to be a close thing," their pilot needlessly advised them.

Suddenly the universe appeared to turn inside out. As they were enveloped by the subspatial void. It had been a long time since captain Rivermon had been exposed to it. He still found the artificial reality envelope the ship had to generate to exist there slightly disturbing. Though not as disturbing as he found the rate at which the tactical display was reporting that the subspatial shield system was draining the remaining ships power.

It was however a much shorter subspatial jump than he was expecting. So they made it back to real space with their minds intact. A fact that captain Rivermon realized when he noticed that the acceleration couch had released his arms. He also noticed that there was suddenly neither artificial gravity nor active thrust. He knew this because he was in a state of freefall.

Unfortunately, so was Mr Naville. The assorted contents of who's stomach were soon floating around the cabin in the form several disgusting looking bubbles, as Mathieu periodically added a little more to it.

"We have achieved a charging orbit around a nearby star," their pilot said as he returned to the main cabin area. "The passive particle collector circuits on the hull are currently yielding sufficient solar energy to begin level 2 particle collection within two cycles. Five subcyclets after that and we should have enough power to run the pseudo-gravs at 10% GSG, while we spend another 6 cycles collecting sufficient power to run the shield generator to protect us from the high solar radiation levels we will be exposed to. As our elliptical orbit swings us close enough to the star to harvest enough energy to start condensing the synthuel. Which we will need to get us out of here."

"I don't pretend to know what the zap your talking about," captain Rivermon called out. "Nor can I figure out how a vessel the size of this shuttle had enough power to fight it's way through those dreadnoughts. But I can tell you this. If any of those dreadnoughts survived, they will have known that we didn't have the power for that jump of yours to get us very far. I was watching your tactical display, by the way. It looked to me like two of them survived. Which means that we can expect an attack long before your time table says we'll even have pseudo-grav."

"Thank you for voicing your concern Wilber," the strange man said. "But while they 'may' even have enough knowledge of subspatial jump technology and possibly even detected that we didn't have the power reserves to go far, I doubt very much that they were able to detect the sidereal vector of our jump.

As to how I had enough power to take out a few dreadnoughts, what do you know of synthuel based power systems?"

Captain Rivermon shook his head vigorously.

"Do you mean to tell me that bit about condensing synthuel wasn't just a figure of speech?" he inquired. "And that this shuttle actually runs on synthuel?"

"You sound so incredulous," the stranger replied. "It makes me wonder if your ready to accept that my answer to both questions is 'yes'. So if you must know, I spent nearly two full spheres of it to put the first dreadnought out of commission. I used another three spheres of the stuff in the particle streams that punched a hole in the second one. And I've already told you how much my former base used, to take out that superdreadnought."

"You said something else that I found rather disturbing," George spoke up. "I happen to know that even the full sized 'top of the line' subspatial jump ships need to use extreme caution if they plan to allow any alteration of the sidereal component of their jump calculations. None of them would risk using it to access even a known target sidereality without having a 'significant surplus' of power to ensure a viably stable sidereal transition. Yet you appear to have intentionally implemented a sidereal vector change in the middle of a 'low power jump'. To some parallel universe that you think is sufficiently unknown, to keep those pirates from finding us here. All this on a jump that started with a manual subspatial insertion. I don't want to offend you. But are you quite sure that your mentally stable sir?"

"I'd call that a reasonable question George," the nameless man allowed. "I'm reasonably certain of myself. I also have an unusually comprehensive mental map of all the siderealities in which this region of space overlaps."

"Would you mind explaining how it was?" George inquired. "That with the massive technological resources you had invested in your secret base. You didn't detect the pirate's attack fleet until after they had already launched so many high velocity relativistic weapons at it?"

"An even better question George," the nameless man replied. "I had previously decided that my best defense was the fact that nobody knew there was anything there. So rather than risking that somebody might detect my sensor systems. I was only using undetectable passive scanning techniques. If I had known that they would be looking to avenge the losses they suffered when your captain managed to use an 'unstable warp drive' as a weapon. They would not have found the destruction of my planet's biosphere so easy."

"None of that explains why they didn't just squash us with their weaponized manipulator arrays," Wilber asserted.

"Have you ever tried to get a manipulator lock on actively uncooperative nanomorphic material?" the strange man asked. Then he continued without waiting for an answer. "Because that's what this ship is made out of."

It was at this point that some of Mathieu's stray vomit floated into his line of sight. A look of disgust briefly flashed across his face and a heartbeat later all of the sickening bubbles of floating filth began to bubble as if they were boiling and rapidly dwindled then finally vanished. As did the stains on any surface the vomit had contaminated. It took less than two subcyclets for all traces of Mathieu's weak stomach, including any aroma, to disappear completely from the passenger compartment.

"Excuse me 'sir'," Yolonda asked. "But you did say there would be time for our questions and I have one I hope you'll answer."

"Very well ask your question," the stranger's voice said. "If I have the answer, I will share it."

"Thank you for the assurance," Yolonda began. "But please understand that you've already said there could be more than one answer to the question of your name. Though I can assure you that it most certainly does matter to me which name you choose to reveal. It matters because depending on that name, I'm hopeful for the first time in my life. That I may actually live long enough to be able to discharge the blood oath I inherited from my ancestral grandmother of many generations ago. Who swore it as a deathside pledge to the brave new friend who had saved my ancestor's life at the cost of her own. A blood oath that otherwise will perish with me, as I have no heir to carry it forward."

Yolonda hesitated for a moment before she continued.

"Unless I'm greatly mistaken," Yolonda said. "You are one of those rare individuals who thanks to 'guild' nanotechnology are both very powerful and by our standards virtually immortal. Yet, you have apparently chosen to live your long life out here on the outer fringe of inhabited space rather than spend it in the company of others like yourself. Which decision suggests one of two things. Either it is truly by choice, which would imply that your nanites must be of a rare pure strain stemming from the original nanosymbiotic pact and that you have lost patience with the guild's management. The other possibility is that your here because for some reason, the guild has lost patience with you and exiled you from their territory. How am I doing so far?"

The stranger just stood there staring intently at Yolonda for half a subcyclet.

"Your fairly astute for your age young lady," he said. "And somewhat impertinent I might add. But aside from the fact that most nanosymbionts don't really spend very much of their time actually associating with each other. You also left out one other possibility. It's not quite just a case of only this or that. It could just as easily be a bit of both. But how am I supposed to guess which of my many names might release you from your oath, unless you first tell me something about it?"

"Simplicity in itself 'sir symbiont'," Yolonda replied with a smile, "I neither want nor need to know who you are now but rather who you were, before nanosymbionce befell you."

The stranger appeared to stare blankly at nothing for half a subcyclet, then he closed the hatchway to the pilot's compartment and walked up close to stare deeply into her eyes for a moment.

"Very well young lady," he began as he made some modifications to one of the acceleration couches. "You shall have your answer. But know that you are asking me to relive more pain than you can possibly imagine. For by calling forth such an ancient memory, I will once again remember all those things that I preferred to forget. This is not something I choose to do lightly.

But you have a rare knowledge and understanding of guild affairs and policy. More importantly, you are either very brave or very foolish. Because the majority of the possible reasons for me to be such an exile would indicate that I'd be quite capable of terminating the lot of you upon considerably less provocation than just being reminded of it. I'm a bit out of practice at judging people Yolonda. But in your case I'm chalking it up to courage. Still, I'm not about to relive those memories alone.

Accordingly I just slaved a custom data infuser into the hibernation systems built into these acceleration couches. It will filter my dreams and help your brain's file the data away without allowing them to overwrite any of your current memories.

The power consumption will be offset by eliminating the need to bother with the pseudo-grav during the charging cycle. It will however be somewhat difficult for you to tell the difference between my own memories and other events of which I have merely acquired intimate knowledge. Nonetheless, by the time my shuttle is ready to continue, all of you will know something of the pattern of events that resulted in my self imposed exile from guild territory. Then, if that isn't enough to answer your question, I will speak the name I used to use so long ago..."

Then the stranger climbed into the seat he'd just modified. As he did so, every occupied couch clicked. Their virtual dreams actually began just before they lost consciousness.

They all regained consciousness simultaneously. The awareness they had shared of each other's mental presence faded as the shared dream ended. Then the lights came on in the stranger's starshuttle.

"Dragonfly repairs are complete," the computer's voice said. "All environmental systems are on line and operating within normal parameters. Synthuel level at 50% capacity. Awaiting further instructions."

The stranger was the first to speak.

"Is there someplace I can bring you?" he asked. "Before I go find myself another hiding place.

"But you still haven't spoken the name I'm waiting to hear," Yolonda protested. "There is no doubt in my mind that you can only be one of two nanosymbionts who are among the three greatest ever spawned by guild nano-technology. Both of whom are hosts to the same pure strain of nanites that willingly accepted the terms of the nanosymbiotic pact. It might seem to you that it shouldn't matter to me which of them you actually are. But the subject of my blood oath is the business of only one of them. So will you not tell me who you were?"

The stranger sighed.

"If you must know," the strange man replied. "Before I became a nanosymbiont, I was a foolish young man named Jake Peterson."

"Thank you," Yolonda emphatically interrupted him. "That is as I had hoped. And this..." she continued as she removed a chain from around her neck. Then she opened the large locket that dangled from the chain, as she finished her sentence, "is for you."

Within the locket was a large blue gemstone.

"Family tradition says," Yolonda added with tears beginning to flow from her eyes. "That it contains the last thoughts of one whom you once loved more than life itself. Her last spoken words were a request of my ancestral grandmother, that she would make sure it eventually reached you. Now at last, my grandmother's spirit can rest easy. For in this moment her deathside promise can at long last be fulfilled."

Silence prevailed within the passenger cabin. None of the five passengers found a word to say as they saw a look of shocked disbelief on the stranger's face. Which slowly give way to equal portions of both despair and of hope. Then the nanosymbiont who had once been a man named Jake reached out slowly with a hand that could be seen to tremble as he gently took the locket from Yolonda. Then without a word he sat cross legged on the floor, and placed the mindstone on the floor before him. Only then did he speak.

"You say she actually wanted this to reach me," he said. "I'm almost afraid to find out why..."

Then he focused his attention on the ancient gemstone. Which began to glow. None of his five passengers could really know the pain that raged within their strange host but all of them had been moved enough by their virtual dreams to understand some of it. None of them were willing to disturb him as they spent the next subcycle silently watching him cry. When he eventually looked up at them, he saw concern in their eyes and he spoke to them.

"Don't worry, some of these tears are of joy," he said. "For while long ago a terrible tragedy deprived me forever of my beloved Cindy. I know now, that before death eventually claimed her life, her mind and heart were in fact healed by the wisdom of her sister-queen 'Kernislarn' who had entrusted the sacred mindstone of the 'Sisterhood of Rebirth' into her care."

"Synthuel level now at 100% capacity," the computer's voice said. "Automatically altering orbital trajectory to a slow system departure course. Awaiting further instructions."

"That knowledge in itself would be cause for rejoicing," Jake continued. "But I also now know that when her mind was finally free of the horror I'd failed to protect her from. She found once again, that her heart still felt love for me. I won't pretend to understand how the chance results of another terrible tragedy led you to me. But it makes me feel like it's time I returned to the living. For there is work for me to do. I've learned enough from your minds about those pirates to know they are the monsters of this age. And I shall smite them... I shall smite them until they are no more. But first I need to know where to bring you. So like I said, where would you like to go?"

Yolonda shook her head.

"And as someone who's seen the dream record of what you did about 'the People' I know that part of you died when you chose to wage such a war by yourself. If you don't intend to repeat that mistake, then you need to share this war with others. Friends who share your purpose. I for one would be honored to share your fight with these monsters."

"And if my lady would choose to wage this war," Wilber added. "I could not live with myself if I did less."

"Where my captain fights," began George.

"We fight as well." Linda finished.

"I've come to realize," Mathieu stated dryly. "That with Donelle gone, I've nowhere I really want to go. I'm not sure I'd actually like to join in your war. But I think I'd enjoy watching you stomp on some of them pirates. Besides if you simply return me to civilization, I'll feel obligated to take the good captain here to court. And I'm no longer sure that's what I really want to do."

"Enough!" Jake said. "The dream showed you what kind of danger you would face. So why would you choose to join with me?"

"Because, that is what friends do," Yolonda explained.

"Of course, Jake might not want to risk losing another friend," Wilber pointed out. "It is after all a painful process that he has been through, I'm sure, altogether too many times."

"You are right there Wilber," Jake said. "I have outlived far too many friends. Which inevitably leads to my withdrawing from cycles of living my life and choosing instead, alternating cycles of work, slumber and occasionally a hermit like existence that hardly qualifies as living.

But as it happens, by fulfilling her ancestral blood oath, Yolonda succeeded in returning me to life itself. Embracing it will no doubt force me to again feel such pain. But I think, I could also feel some joy from actually having friends again."

As he spoke his skin began to take on a healthy hue. His head also began to sprout some light brown hair. His face also sprouted new eyebrows, eyelashes and a short seemingly well trimmed beard and mustache.

"Behold the restorative power of my nanites," Jake resumed speaking. "This was how I looked the last time I truly felt alive. Before my Cindy was lost to me. Now that her love has returned to me it is fitting that I restore my former appearance as well. Especially if I'm to resume living among friends. So if you are all still willing to join me as I wage a long dangerous campaign against the monsters of this age. Then so be it! It looks like I won't have to fight alone anymore. But if your going to fight them with me, your going to need a few things. Starting with the benefits of nano-augmentation. That is, if you'd like to live through it long enough to make a difference."

"Sounds like a plan to me," George said.

"But if we're all going to go with you Jake," Wilber asked. "Where do we go from here?"

"Well for starters," Jake replied. "I think it's high time I checked on my 'guild interbank' investments, as well as a few markers I should still be able to pull in from the remains of the 'Free Spacer Alliance'. Because if we're really going to put the fear of space in these pirates. We're going to need to build a Free Spacer fleet, the likes of which they have never seen. A few cyclets later Jake initialized a jump into subspace as he had so many times before. But for the first time in a very long time, it's course was towards civilization rather than away from it.

Epilogue

The space pirates had become a dimly remembered nightmare long before Jake again sought solitude. In the process of defeating them he had managed to trigger a revitalization of the fraternal order of Free Spacers. Which in turn had also spurred the guild itself out of the state of lethargy that had seen it's influence dwindle over the last several million years.

Of course this meant that some questors were once again actively trying to hunt him down. Fortunately the shuttle he had named Dragonfly was actually the core constructor module from which he had built the powerful starship he had once named DragonStar. When he had, so long ago, left the Captain and his Nearkin behind him to begin his life of exile.

Now he felt it was time to rebuild it. As he began to look for another out of the way place where not even the guild was likely to find him. In the course of his search Jake explored many forgotten corners of the multiverse. Along with some places that nobody had ever charted. Jake spent much time looking for a place that suited him.

The DragonStar was considerably more complete when Jake shut down the primary stardrive and the inverse temporal dilation field collapsed. He quickly adopted a stealth orbit around the fourth planet out from the star. The DragonStar's scanners had detected certain unexpected signs of life. Unexpected because early indications were that the life involved had a similar footprint to life on a planet capable of supporting human habitation. As it happens, an old guild survey team had actually been there once. According to their report, it wasn't supposed to be so compatible. They had also rated it as totally unsuitable for terraforming as well.

In any case Jake was intrigued enough to want a more detailed scan. The closer he looked, the more intrigued he got. This planet wasn't just capable of supporting human life. It was in fact inhabited by humans. The signs of their technological advancement however were somewhat inconsistent.

His orbital scans showed traces of space age technology but all of it was abandoned. What people he could find were living with little more than stone age tools. Eventually he pieced together that there had once been a very centralized core of some fairly advanced technology. Which was consistent with the early stages of colonization from a single landing site. But the very core of that technology had largely been destroyed by some cataclysmic event. Apparently the survivors hadn't been able to maintain their technology and their very civilization had collapsed. Further examination showed that the survivors were now in serious trouble. They appeared divided into several different regional tribe like groups.

There was evidence of conflict between some of these groups. It was also quite obvious that their population was in decline. Without help, their chances for long term survival didn't look good. Jake didn't think it would do them much good to suddenly expose them to the technology from an advanced civilization. Even so, he had an idea of something he could perhaps do. It was a gamble that required he interfere with the natural course of the development of a truly primitive society and to do so on such a scale that his enhanced 'Code of Honor' wouldn't normally permit it.

Fortunately he had no intention personally of micromanaging their lives to the extent that would be needed to save them however. If he was to help them he was going to need some very unconventional help. He wasn't sure if he could make it happen in time to save them. Indeed he might fail completely but he knew of a kind of symbiotic relationship that he thought these humans might benefit from. It was the fact that this primitive culture was actually the remnant of a failed space age colony that provided a loophole in the restrictions 'the Captain' had helped him write into his new 'Honor Code'.

Accordingly Jake began a comprehensive scan of the world below him. As he made plans about how he might introduce the retrograde survivors of this lost colony world to the daggerthorn he would grow for them. He also used the data from these comprehensive scans to further tinker with the daggerthorn's DNA. In order that the descendants of the modified daggerthorn might be able to provide for the human survivors some very necessary things that they no longer had the technology to provide for themselves.

It was all one big long shot but Jake reasoned that it was worth the risk. After all if he failed, the only humans who would suffer for it were already doomed. Yet if he succeeded, he would not only save them but quite possibly it would be for the greater benefit of humanity everywhere. So once again he needed to build himself another secret base of operations. From which he could begin again his experiment towards finding humanity a stabilizing life partner. Before humanity's growing technology might someday combine their self destructive behavior patterns with a weapon so powerful. That it could destroy the entire multiverse.

Which was something he had known could be built. Ever since he had used the core principles of such a weapon to save most of his big home galaxy from a monstrous fate. At the terrible cost of annihilating thousands of it's inhabited star systems.

That was when he had first dreamed of his plan to instigate a new symbiotic relationship between humans and daggerthorn. Together they could be so much more than either species could ever be on it's own. Now he was ready to begin the great experiment. He knew what he had to do to make it work. It wasn't all going to happen overnight however, it was certain that he would be spending a lot of effort for a very long time before he could expect to see any worthwhile results. It was therefore fortunate that he was a nanosymbiont. For it would take someone with a very long lifespan to complete such a project.

Once he began he quickly realized that working on this dream wouldn't put an end to any of the pain he still carried in his heart. What it did do was to keep him busy enough to feel it less keenly. There was no certainty of success but he had such hopes for the biological symbionce he was trying to foster. It was his dream and he would never give up on it.

###***###

Appendixes

About The Author

I'm Joseph Philbrook and I'm a retiree who loves books. I've always found reading one to be more enjoyable than watching a movie. As long as I can remember I've dreamed of writing them. Now that I'm retired, I've finally got the time to live that dream. I hope you enjoyed reading this book as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Connect with Me

Find me at Smashwords: <https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/joephilbrook3>

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Galactic Standard Units of Measure

The actual basis on which the Galactic Standard Units of Measure were originally devised is no longer known. It is known that it was devised in the early days of the old 'Star Traveler's Guild'. And that once it was established neither the old guild nor the 'Cosmic Sailor's Guild' which replaced it would accept any modification to it's values.

NOTE: The conversion values, listed below are only approximate equivalents based on averaged equivalent values. From the many planets which claim to be humanity's original home world of Terra:

The GSU for weight or mass is the Lift.

1 lift = 9 sublifts = 31.5 lbs = 14.29 kilograms

1 sublift = 3.5 lbs = 1.59 kilogram

The GSU for volume is the Sphere.

1 sphere = 9 subspheres = 1.7 gallons = 6.44 liters

1 subsphere = 24 fluid ounces = 709.76 milliliters

The GSU for time is the Cycle

1 overcycle = 9 cycles = 1 GS day = 31.5 hours

1 cycle = 9 subcycles = 81 cyclets = 729 subcyclets = 3.5 hours

1 subcycle = 9 cyclets = 23.33 minutes

1 cyclet = 9 subcyclets = 2.59 minutes

1 subcyclet = 17.28 seconds

1 GS Year = 729 overcycles

1 GS year = 2.62 standard Terran years

1 standard Terran year = 0.382 GS year

The GSU for relativistic distance is the GS lightyear

1 GS lightyear = 2.62 {average human 'home' world} lightyears

The GSU for {non relativistic} distance is the Arm.

1 arm = 9 subarms = 2.2 feet = 0.67 meters

1 subarm = 3 inches = 76.2 millimeters

The GSU for temperature is the Gradation.

1 gradation = -27.8 centigrade = -18 Fahrenheit

26 gradation = 0 centigrade = 32 Fahrenheit

44.9 gradation = 21 centigrade = 69.8 Fahrenheit

116 gradation = 100 centigrade = 212 Fahrenheit

Temperature Conversion Formula:

G = (C x (9/10)) + 26

C = (G - 26) x (10/9)

C = (F - 32) x (5/9)

F=(C x (9/5)) + 32

G = ((F-32)x(5/9))x(9/10))+26

F = (((G-26)x(10/9))*(9/5))+32

Author's notes

Interplanetary Travel

For "live" interplanetary travel to be safe without becoming a form of biological warfare. Extreme measures must be taken to ensure the microbiological compatibility of all living organisms. The travelers themselves and all the biological organisms within them must be compatible with all of the lifeforms in the biosphere of the destination planet. With the only exception being where the destination world contains no lifeforms...

If there is an incompatibility then unless the destination planet is being modified, IE: Terraformed, to make it more compatible. (Which in itself would be an act of biological warfare against whatever lifeforms were already present.) It would be necessary, to either:

Isolate the travelers from all existing lifeforms, IE: Full-time spacesuit/habitat domes or functional equivalents, OR to modify the microbiological structure of the travelers themselves.

BOTH methods require the taking of certain risks.

One way to modify their own microbiological structure could be to meld their bodies with machines. Which could mean anything from transplanting ones entire nervous system, including the brain, into a mechanical host body. To infiltrating one's own body with enough nano-technology that many millions of microscopic machines are able to enhance and/or replace some of that body's physical functions. If the nano-machinery were capable of networking they might even be able to enhance certain neurological functions.

It may even be possible that another, more organic way, to modify one's microbiological structure will be found.

Of course, whether either method would be good for the people involved. Could very much depend on the fundamental difference between a parasitic organism and a true symbiont.

Terraforming

In this story the assumption is made that long before this story begins mankind, in a series of expansion stages, did experiment with a variety of terraforming techniques. Some of which were more successful than others. Thus the need to take the precautions described above isn't always obvious.

Faster than light travel, parallel universes, and time travel...

I don't know what the current scientific theory suggests might someday be possible. But for the purposes of this story I consider it possible to find a way to exceed or bypass the speed of light. And I consider it possible that there are not only other planets in the universe where intelligent life may have evolved. But that it may well be possible that there are parallel universe. Where even more inhabited worlds may exist.

If they do exist then it is about as likely that a way might be found to travel to an alternate reality. As it would be to travel between the stars. (Excluding of course, multi-generation artificial world ships. Or some form of hibernation or stasis process which could potentially make some form of interstellar travel possible. Even if no way is ever found to get around the limitations of sub-light travel.)

But I'm not willing to accept the possibility of true time travel. Though I certainly accept that it might be possible to control the rate at which time flows.

Thus if one could accelerate the flow of time within a limited area. It could be possible to give a research lab thousands of years. To find a way to survive a disaster that would otherwise destroy them in less than a week. (It would be a good idea for the lab within the accelerated time flow, to already have all the resources {such as food, water, air and energy.} that it will need. For as much time as it will spend solving the problem.)

It might also be possible to decelerate the flow of time for some terminally ill patient to keep them 'alive' until a cure can be developed.

But no mater how fast time passes in the lab's accelerated temporal environment. And no matter how slow time might be passing for the patient in suspended animation. Neither the lab nor the patient will ever reach a point in time before the one where they entered the altered temporal flow.

About The Names In This Book

The capitalization of names in this book.

This is a tale of the far future. When the human race(s) have spread out from more than a few separate home worlds. Where genetically compatible humans have separately evolved. And mysteriously, developed nearly identical cultural and language patterns. Which didn't begin to diverge until each one developed a machine based technology. They did not all develop at the same time however.

As these humans began to spread across the galaxy. They encountered each other. And their divergent cultures merged into a galactic culture. In the process the rules for the proper capitalization of names changed several times. And local conventions on each individual world began to vary again.

The name "John Smith" might be found on ten randomly selected human inhabited worlds. But some of them would render it as john Smith. In the belief that only surnames should be capitalized. Others would render it as John smith. There are far to many variations to list here. But in some cases the capitalization of a name is an optional sign of respect. Or an indication of a more formal context. And in others, not capitalizing it is a sign of affection.

This principal also affected the names of places and named things such as starships.

In this story I followed the conventions of the characters and places involved. Not those of my own upbringing. The variances in the capitalization of the names in this book are not errors. They are part of the story.

On the other hand, if you find sentences where I failed to capitalize the first word. They would be mistakes. As would be any unpurged punctuation errors. And I hereby apologize for any and all of them.

About the names themselves.

In this book there are some characters from cultures with their own unusual, naming conventions.

But the premise used here is that, by and large, at some point prior to the beginning of this tale, when there was only one viable interstellar human civilization. A multitude of naming conventions were consolidated into one galactic norm.

There would be but one given name. (Sometimes replaced at adulthood by another for cultural reasons.) But at any one time, no given official record would specify more than one of such. And likewise only one family or surname of record. (Generally inherited from ones parents.)

There was no standardization as to whether to list the given or the family name first. But those are the only names that would be recorded in any official record.

Legal identification would no longer be based on names. But rather, on a number based code. Which is usually based on an algorithm. That compiles them from the individuals genetic code. Combined with a designation for the governmental system in which the birth was recorded. And the officially computed time and date of the individual's conception.

For anything other than establishing an individuals legal identification, it is not generally considered polite to refer to anyone by their number. Nor by any derivative of it.

Some governmental organizations issue numbers on another basis. In which case, it sometimes occurs that an individual may acquire a second "interstellar" ID number.

~###~
