“All teams, status check," Cy Compaan called into his headset comm device, watching several monitors in his ad hoc control room. The furniture in the small passenger cabin had all been pushed against one wall, and the bed flipped on its side to clear enough room for the several pop-up tables covered with communications and monitoring equipment. Two of his men sat at the tables, controlling the various video feeds from the team’s body cams, giving Compaan a first-hand view of everything his teams saw.

  “Team One spotters in position in hangars D1 and D2, strike team ready," The call back came from Team One.

  “Team Two, spotters, and strike team are ready in hangars D3 and D4," another voice called out over the encrypted comms channel.

  “Team Three, everyone's ready in D5 and D6. The next team reported.

  Compaan’s anxiety started to creep up as an uncomfortably long period passed before Team Four reported in. “Team Four in D7 and D8, spotters in position, strike team one minute out," came the report from the final team.

  “Move your ass! We need to be ready to execute as soon as they are spotted," Compaan hissed into his microphone. Irritated, he ran his fingers through his shoulder-length salt-and-pepper hair, sweeping it back out of his eyes.

  Forty-seven seconds ter, “Team four, spotters and strike team in position,” came the breathless report over the comms.

  “Stay alert. Inbound docking will begin in five minutes," Compaan informed his teams. Now that all teams were in position, he rexed and sipped his coffee as he stood behind the two seated men, watching the monitors intently.

  He had received the call for this job less than a week ago; his contact in the Organization said that Cortez wanted a shuttle that had arrived at Penrose Station, so naturally, they contacted Compaan. He had worked hard for the st two decades to cement his reputation as the best hijacker in society's seedier circles. Throughout his career, he had stolen hundreds of ships, many in tighter security areas than he was now facing aboard the Dals.

  He was told that his target was a seventy-meter shuttle of unusual and unmistakable design with tech that Cortez wanted. And what Cortez wanted, he usually got. Compaan had to scramble to get everything into pce quickly, but he wasn’t known as the best for nothing.

  Compaan’s pn was pretty straightforward: being a seventy-meter shuttle, they would be assigned to one of the “D” css hangars. He would post a spotter at both port and starboard hangar doors, who would signal the strike team assigned to that hangar, reying where it would be berthed. As soon as the shuttle door opened, the strike team would rush it, overtake and incapacitate or kill the crew, and race out of the hangar before the ship’s security could react. Then, the strike team would rendezvous with his carrier, waiting a couple of light years outside the system for pickup. He had executed this exact pn on multiple occasions and had little doubt as to the odds of his success.

  On the monitors, he watched the Dals Hangar crew prepare to open the doors for new arrivals. “Everyone at the ready," Compaan called out on the comms. The atmospheric force barriers shimmered as they were activated, and the doors opened to the hangars. Through the various monitors, he watched the slow parade of shuttles entering the eight levels of hangars, searching for his quarry.

  *******

  Several hours passed, and none of the ships that had docked so far even slightly resembled the description given, and he was beginning to grow impatient. Compaan took a breath to calm himself, knowing that the queue to dock was rgely a function of when the fare was purchased, and supposedly, the target had purchased their berth te. It stood to reason that they would be among the st to arrive.

  “Spotters and teams begin rotating posts on a rolling basis," he ordered his teams. He wanted to ensure that no one noticed that people were loitering for hours in the same spot, so he had his teams swap positions, a few people at a time, to avoid detection.

  More time passed, and there was still no sign of his target. The ferries were usually very efficient at loading and unloading, and it usually only took about eight hours or so at each port of call to complete the onboarding. They were now closing in on seven and a half hours; did he miss them?

  “Strike teams, send an additional spotter to each hanger, and verify the target is not already on board," Compaan ordered. He was running out of time; once the doors were closed, it would only be a short while ter that the ferry would head out of the system and jump to FTL, and his window of opportunity would close.

  Several minutes ter, “Negative, target is not yet on board," The reports came from the additional spotters. Compaan watched the st ship enter the hangar, and soon after, the hangar doors began to close. “Fuck!” he yelled, throwing his headset to the floor. “Recall all teams, now!” he growled at one of the two men running the comm setup, then stormed out of the tiny passenger cabin and into the hallway, smming the door behind him. Anger and frustration twisted his face into a scowl as he looked for a nearby bar to get a drink. It was unlikely he had bad information; his contact in Penrose Control confirmed they had left for the ferry. Where the fuck were they?

  ******

  When the docking cmps cleared, June activated the gravity drive and slowly steered away from their slip at Penrose Station. She id in a course to rendezvous with the ferry 'Dals', and they were on their way.

  Will sat at the console next to June’s, Ben sat at one of the wider stations along the back of the bridge, while Interface stood between Will and June, a hand on each of their shoulders, wearing nothing but a smile on her lips.

  “We’ll arrive at the coordinates for the docking queue in about forty-five minutes," June said aloud. “Once there we’ll be given instructions on where and when to dock.” They sat back and enjoyed the quiet ride to the ‘Dals’.

  On the sensor array readout, the ‘Dals’ appeared as a rge dot surrounded by a swarm of smaller dots, both maintenance vessels and ships looking to dock, each with a name dispyed with their transponder information. Seeing the ‘Dals’ through the viewport was an entirely different experience. When they were still far from it, the ‘Dals’ appeared deceptively small and appeared to twinkle. But as they drew closer, it grew impressively rge, and as they were coming up to it broadside, the sheer enormity became apparent as its length slowly filled the entire viewport.

  The transponder details for the Dals said that it was five thousand meters by five thousand meters, tall and wide, with an impressive length of twenty kilometers. However, seeing it with their own eyes was another thing entirely. Up close, it seemed to stretch on forever; a thousand external floodlights and windows illuminated the surface of its blocky exterior, aerodynamics ignored, the designers knowing it would never dip into a gravity well far enough to contact atmosphere.

  The front half of the behemoth was completely peppered with the light of thousands of cabin windows looking out into space, but a rge portion of the rear half of the ‘Dals’ was an open honeycomb of hangar bays of varying sizes to accommodate ships as small as one hundred meters or less or as rge as five thousand meters in length. From their pce in the docking queue, they could see that three of the four enormous hangars already contained ships that would easily be considered huge on their own, swallowed up and parked neatly, each in its hangar.

  As they marveled at the enormity of the ‘Dals’, a call came over the comms. “Come in Nestia; this is Dals Control. Do you read?”

  “This is the Nestia,” June replied. “We read you.” Interface started bouncing on the balls of her bare feet in excitement.

  “Be advised, you are next in queue. We have you making berth in Maintenance Bay ‘B’. When signaled, please follow the flight path provided, then hold position and shutdown engines fifty meters from the bay. You will then be brought on board by the ferry pilot using tractor beams.”

  “Acknowledged, Control," June answered.

  They only had to wait five more minutes, then Dals Control called again. “Nestia, this is Dals Control. Please proceed to Maintenance Bay ‘B’. Welcome aboard," The Dals Controller said.

  “Thank you, Control. We are proceeding," June responded cheerfully. She piloted the Nestia along the provided flight path, which took them alongside the Dals. As they passed the lines of ships waiting their turn to dock, they could see many ships already docked—well, over a thousand in total—of various makes, models, and sizes. They passed the st of the rger hangars and began stationkeeping just outside the Maintenance Bay ‘B’ Dock. Once their motion matched the behemoth they were docking with, June cut the gravity drive, and the silver shimmer of the Nestia’s hull reverted to bright white.

  “This is the Maintenance Bay ‘B’ Pilot; Nestia, are you ready for docking?” Came another voice over the comms.

  “Roger Pilot, our drive is shut down; we’re all yours. Take us in as you please," June called over comms. Ben chuckled at the double-entendre-sounding reply, and Interface turned to wink at him.

  The pilot was very skilled; they didn’t feel anything when the tractor beams engaged and the Nestia was pulled gently in, bow first. The maintenance bay ran straight through from the port to starboard side of the ferry with berthing spots running along both walls, and after the Nestia passed through the atmospheric force barrier, the pilot deftly swung the Nestia's stern ninety degrees to align her in a berthing spot close to the hangar doors. Still suspended by the tractor beams, the Nestia's stern was then backed close to the wall, facing forward to the Dals' bow. As June extended the nding legs, they were pced softly on the hangar bay floor, dead center in their assigned berth.

  The pilot came back on the comms. “Nestia, tractor beams are off, and the magnetic cmps have been engaged. I would recommend waiting until we are under way before disembarking, as the maintenance bay will be very busy right up until we close the doors before departure. After that, you are free to come and go as you need. Welcome aboard.”

  “Very smooth nding. Thank you, Pilot. Nestia, Out.” June leaned back and addressed the group. “Well, we’re here. Now a short wait, and then we can go explore. Any ideas on how we could pass the time?" she said with a sly grin. Interface’s eyes sparkled with anticipation.

  ****

  The airlock door melted open, and white metal poured down from the bottom of the door until it reached the hangar floor, shaping itself to form a short set of stairs. The group exited Nestia’s faux shuttle area, led by Interface, who gawked in wide-eyed wonder at the hive of activity.

  Maintenance Bay ‘B’ was ridiculously rge, fitting the general oversized proportions of the ‘Dals’ itself; it was roughly one hundred and fifty meters wide and ran the entire five thousand meter width of the ‘Dals’, with rge hangar doors at either end. Several hundred one person maintenance pods were parked among a dozen rger craft along one wall with room for another hundred, at least half of them being attended to in either some stage of repair, refit, or refueling. Several elevators were in operation, bringing parts or personnel up and down from the maintenance shops to the next level. Midway down the bay, they spotted the sign indicating the location of the ‘Dals’ intra-ship tram system, so they headed in that direction.

  “There must be at least a hundred crew members assigned to this maintenance bay alone," Interface said, drinking the sight in as they walked.

  June put an arm around her waist. “According to her registry, the ‘Dals’ has a crew complement of over five thousand people. Mechanics, engineers, officers, and passenger hospitality staff.”

  Interface smiled at the thought. “And how many passengers do you think are currently on board?" she said, eager to meet them all.

  “Hmm. Let me think,” June began, running some numbers in her head. “With as many ships we saw docking and already docked, I’d say ten thousand people boarded with their ships, then probably another twenty-five thousand who booked individual passage in cabins. The ferry system may be one of the slower options for interstelr travel, but by any measure, it is definitely the most efficient.”

  “And probably the most fun," Will chimed in. “Many travelers spend weeks, if not months, on board, so Inter-Pnetary Ferry Services spends a great deal of effort on passenger comfort and entertainment. A lot of people book round-trip tickets just to enjoy the amenities.”

  As they walked through the bay towards the tram entrance, Interface gave the maintenance personnel they passed a gregarious smile and waved, who couldn’t help but smile and wave back to the bubbly silver girl.

  Making it to the tram entrance, they stepped through to a small lobby, the din of activity silenced as the double doors slid closed behind them. Ben pressed the call button for the tram, then slid close to Interface. “I know how much you love trams and elevators,” he said with a smile. “But you’re going to have to behave.” Then he gave her a peck on the cheek.

  “Oh, you think so, brat," she said, pulling Ben close and giving him a passionate kiss just as the tram doors opened to a group of surprised maintenance workers. She broke the kiss and winked at them, and they all smiled as they left the tram. They saw this kind of behavior a lot from passengers, which amused them. June, Will, Ben, and Interface took their pces in the tram, and the doors closed. After studying the dispy control for a moment, Will pressed the button for the main concourse.

  The tram accelerated gently until the car zipped along the tramway, heading towards the heart of the ship. As they sped along, views of other hangars fshed through the clear tram window, the hangars full of ships and activity. Then, the tram sped further into the interior tunnels, lights flying by at regur intervals, punctuated by small stations leading to passenger cabins.

  The car made a couple of stops as other passengers called the tram, and soon, it was full of smiling new arrivals all heading to the Main Concourse. Interface smiled as she soaked in the exuberant feelings of other passengers, chatting amongst themselves, each eagerly anticipating what awaited them.

  The tram car slowed and stopped, and a chime sounded as the doors opened, indicating their arrival. They all stepped out, and the Concourse opened before them.

  The Main Concourse was a wide promenade with numerous walking paths, benches at regur intervals, and potted pnts of various varieties, giving it the feeling of a garden. Several water features, ponds, and fountains were dotted around the Concourse. The concourse had two levels: shops and restaurants lined both sides of the ground level and the mezzanine above.

  A couple of footbridges spanned the gap, giving passengers a vantage point to view the expansive space. The tall ceiling above the mezzanine boasted a holographic dispy of the view of the stars as currently seen outside. As they stood at the entrance, Ben noticed that the holographic ceiling showed the stars streaming by; red shifted into rainbows as they streamed across the ceiling. It reminded him fondly of the times he and Interface cuddled on the bridge of the Nestia, watching the stars stream past, and he smiled.

  Interface stood with the others at the entrance to the Concourse and was mesmerized by the sights and sounds of activity and life in the cavernous open space. At least a thousand people were crowded in, many of them new arrivals, who were gawking at the spectacle as well, all finding pleasant distractions to occupy them during their long voyage. People were sitting and chatting on benches next to the water features, at small bistros eating a meal; there were people inside bars watching a sports game, drinking and cheering; almost every pleasant activity imaginable was represented and enjoyed all along the concourse.

  She found the people themselves to be even more interesting. Penrose Station had been a backwater port, basically servicing the local star systems and their popution. While not heterogeneous, it didn’t hold a candle to the seemingly infinite variety of species that used the interstelr ferry system.

  She spotted several species she had seen on Penrose. A few rge bear-like Urarc men and women were sipping tea and conversing quietly at a cafe. Several of the lizard-like Caimars were sitting on stools too tall for them at a bar, yelling excitedly at a hologram of a sports game being projected on the wall behind the bar.

  But there were so many more species she spotted that she didn’t have names for: There were folks that mostly resembled humans but were shades of bright blue, green, or red, with horns and keratin-covered ridges on their cheekbones and jaw lines. There were several different insectoid species, some seemingly a close blend of human and insect aspects, while others were entirely insectoid, some spider-like, a few resembling centipedes, and others with brightly colored carapaces like enormous dybugs.

  Tall and short, familiar and exotic, the panoply of beings coexisted and enjoyed all the distractions the ship’s hospitality had to offer. Interface drank it all in; the warm, pleasant atmosphere of a thousand beings enjoying simple pleasures was intoxicating. She watched the crowds pass by one another, and as Inta watched, she spotted a couple of figures in the crowd.

  One reason they caught her eye was that they literally stood out in the crowd, seven and a half feet tall, with broad shoulders, each with four arms, their hands gesturing animatedly as they conversed. Their skin shimmered in multicolored hues, slightly iridescent; the skin on their bare arms seemed to shimmer against the backdrop of their pin, thick robes. Their faces were ft and broad, without a nose protruding from their kind smiling faces, their coarse hair sticking up and waving slightly as they moved their heads like gathered bundles of wheat. They swayed gently back and forth as they walked like willow trees in the wind.

  As she watched the two, Interface’s mind was suddenly overtaken by a fsh of an old memory. She was standing at the entrance to a garden, very simir to the Concourse, but it was open to the bright blue sky, the sun beaming down from overhead. Tall, gleaming white buildings and round spires surround the garden—some sort of metropolis. She wasn’t alone in the garden; a multitude of familiar faces surrounded her, all looking at her, beaming with love and adoration. In the background of her memory, the garden contained a grove of trees with slightly iridescent branches swaying gracefully in the breeze.

  “Interface, are you okay? You kind of left for a minute," Ben said, holding her arm, a look of gentle concern on his face. As quickly as it hit her, the memory swiftly faded back into the dormant portions of her mind.

  Shaking her head to clear her mind, she smiled. “I’m good. I’m starting to remember things. Stuff from my past.”

  Everyone gathered close around her. “That’s a good sign, right? You’re finally growing back into the parts of your matrix containing memories," June asked.

  “Yes, it’s a very good sign," Interface pulled her three lovers close. “You’re all helping me heal and grow again.” From the group hug, Interface looked over their shoulders and gnced over the crowd, but the tall figures were no longer in sight.

  *****

  They walked through the crowded paths of the Concourse without an objective, taking in the sights and sounds of the crowd and shops lining the way.

  “I don’t know about you,” Ben said to the group, “but I could use something to drink.”

  “A little early to get started, isn’t it?” June poked Ben pyfully.

  “Naw, I just want a cup of coffee or something," he said, not rising to the bait.

  “How about there?” Interface asked, pointing to a little cart attended by a green-skinned girl with blonde hair and small curled horns, wearing a bck apron around her neck. Her cart was surrounded by little round tables, only half occupied.

  “Hi, what can I get for you?” The horned girl asked cheerfully.

  “I’ll have a coffee, bck, please," Ben requested.

  Will and June declined, “we’re all set, thanks.”

  “Can I have some water?” Interface asked, watching the barista curiously.

  “Sure thing," she said as Ben paid for both drinks. She handed Ben his coffee, which he accepted with thanks, then handed Interface a cup of water.

  “Thank you," Interface said, then added, “I didn’t catch your name.”

  “Oh, it’s Jyrra, pleased to meet your acquaintance,” the barista said with a wide smile.

  “Mine’s Interface," she said warmly. “If you don’t mind me asking, how did you come to be working on the ferry?" she asked, making small talk.

  Pleasantly surprised at the opening offer for a conversation, she replied, “Well, I’m heading home, a passenger, actually. I’ve been traveling all over, picking up odd jobs here and there, making enough to pay my way. A friend of mine told me that sometimes the hospitality crew on a ferry have openings that they can’t fill and allow passengers to work them. I think it’s a fun way to pass the time on board; you can only watch so many holo-shows, you know. And it gives me the opportunity to meet lots of interesting new folk, like you, for instance.”

  Interface smiled at her compliment. “That sounds wonderful!” Interface said enthusiastically. “You must have the best job on board. I’d love the chance to chat with people," she said.

  “It’s the best part if you ask me. If you’re interested, I’m pretty sure there are more jobs posted on the community board," Jyrra said. “They also post all the activities on the ship. You should definitely check it out. There’s always so much fun stuff posted—too much, actually. I always feel like I’m missing out on something because there’s so much to choose from!”

  Jyrra went on, hardly taking a breath, “If you like to py sports, I saw a posting for a Tenner-rack league starting soon. My favorite are the art csses. I like sculpting the best, though the oil painting css is fun too. There’s also regur music performances, all kinds of styles, really something for everyone. You should really check it out," The bubbly barista said, a veritable walking advertisement for shipboard activities. “I do quite a few; maybe I’ll run into you at one; wouldn’t that be exciting?”

  Interface nodded enthusiastically. “You know, this is just the sort of thing I’ve been missing out on.” Then, coming to a decision, she decred, “You know what? I’ll do it.”

  “The Community Board is dead center in the Concourse Garden. Everything is posted there; you can’t miss it," Jyrra offered.

  Thank you so much, Jyrra.” And as she went to sit with her water, she called back, “And thanks for the drink, too!”

  She sat down with June, Will, and Ben. “I’ve discovered the greatest thing," she told the group.

  Will raised one eyebrow skeptically, wearing a smirk. “The greatest?”

  Interface rolled her eyes. "Okay, the second greatest. Shipboard activities!" she said excitedly.

  “Jyrra, over there, was just telling me about all of the amazing things to do. I’m going to try them all right away!”

  “Okay, okay,” Will said pyfully, holding his hands as if overwhelmed by her enthusiasm. “Wouldn’t it be better to pace yourself?” He asked, "I wouldn’t want you biting off more than you can chew.”

  June chimed in, defending Interface with a semi-serious tone. “Will, Inta has been starved for interpersonal contact longer than we can imagine; she needs this. Plus, it sounds like a lot of fun, and besides, we’ve got a boatload of time to kill.”

  Will nodded, seeing that his concern was unfounded. He then took a sip of his coffee. “Time to kill, indeed. Three months, in fact. I suppose there are worse ways to fill the time while we travel than picking up a part-time job. I think maybe I was just a little bummed thinking you weren’t going to spend all your time with us.”

  Interface giggled, her ughter sparkling in the air. “Silly, did you forget I’m the gaxy’s best multi-tasker? I can still fuck you ‘round the clock’, if that’s what you want. Maybe I will. Hold you captive in the lounge, stopping only when you pass out. That sounds like a decent way to pass time to me too," she said to Will in a low, mischievous tone.

  Will reached out and pced a hand on Interface’s cheek. “Insatiable. Okay, it’s a date.” Then, finishing his coffee, he said, “Let’s go find that community board and see what it has for us.”

  They finished their drinks and headed through the crowd to the center of the Concourse. Before leaving, Interface turned to wave goodbye to Jyrra, who smiled and waved in return.

  Jyrra’s coffee cart wasn’t far from the center of the Concourse, so it took them no time to find the community board. It was ten feet tall and rectangur, and the upper half that could be seen above the heads in the crowd fshed ship-wide notices and advertisements for shops on the Concourse on all four sides. At eye level, the lower half was mostly dedicated to the extensive itinerary of events aboard the ferry, listing dates, times, and meeting locations for all scheduled events. Right next to the long list was a directory and map of the ship's public areas to make it easy to find the location of whichever event a passenger wished to attend.

  In a corner of the community board was a posting with a header in bright, cheery letters, ‘Do you want to meet interesting people and earn extra cash, too? Apply today for an open position with the Hospitality Crew!’

  The headline was effective, as Interface nodded enthusiastically, “Yeah, I want to meet new and interesting people!" she nudged Ben, “It’s like they’re talking right to me!” Ben smiled and rolled his eyes.

  Below the heading, several positions were open. There was a position at Rainbow Starlight Lounge, one of the many bars on the Concourse, which boasted an actual viewport where people could watch the stars stream while they ate and drank their fill.

  There were a couple of postings for dishwashers, at which Interface wrinkled her nose, finding the idea unappealing, a posting for a clerk at a small market, and an attendant for the ship’s only book store.

  “Hmm," Interface hummed, deep in thought. “I think I’ll apply to the bar and the bookseller. They look like they’ll be fun," she said with an excited look on her face.

  “You do realize that between the hours required for the bookseller and at the bar, it will keep you out until early in the morning? You’ll practically be working 24/7," Ben said, worried Interface was overdoing it. “That’s a lot, plus you wouldn’t have any time for the activity roster.”

  Interface smiled, then took one of his hands in hers. “You forget, My Sweet,” then pcing her other hand on her chest, “Best Multi-tasker, ever!” Ben chuckled in response. “Besides," she said, “what other way would I get to know so many people in such a short time? This really is a golden opportunity that I don’t want to waste.”

  Ben relented, then turned, looking through the listings on the activity board. “Alright then, aside from working several jobs, what fun and games catch your attention?”

  The four huddled close, reviewing the mile-long list for things that jumped out at them as exciting.

  “Apparently there is a rock wall somewhere on board.” Will noted that the corner of his mouth turned up in a small smirk.

  “Calligraphy sounds interesting," Ben said, spotting another humorous entry.

  “How about Ancient Human Throat Singing,” Will said, catching another.

  “Very funny, you two," Interface said, “Let’s pick out a few events that are happening soon.” She reached up to the board and trailed her pointed finger down the list, looking for something specific.

  “Jyrra mentioned a Tennerack league. Ah, here it is. It starts in two days. It says here that it’s a mixed-double league. Who wants to be my partner... on the court?” Interface said with a little bit of flirt.

  “Not me; I've got all the coordination of a seasick Qualtrin mule," Ben said, shaking his head.

  “I haven’t had a chance to py Tennerack since I was at the academy. I’d love to py with you. I’d bet we’d be pretty good, too. If I don’t get distracted by all the jiggling”, Will accepted with a smile, tickling Interface until she shook.

  “Oh, there’s a weekly pottery css; that sounds like fun," June said brightly. “Who wants to go to that with me?”

  “Definitely. I love to squeeze soft, pliant objects into shape,” Interface said, swiftly reaching around June from behind and grabbing two handfuls of her tits.

  “In public?” June asked incredulously. “Really?” Interface ughed, gave her a peck on the cheek, then backed off.

  “Okay, I’ll behave. But ter….” Interface said suggestively.

  “Insatiable,” Will muttered and smiled.

  As they stood there in the crowd surrounding the community board, picking out more activities to pursue, Will felt the familiar and unwelcome chill run down his spine—a feeling of being observed by a hidden predator, just as he felt during their time stranded on the unnamed pnet where they found Interface.

  His smile quickly left his face as he spun about, scanning the crowd for the source of his unease. As quickly as the sense of danger came, it passed, leaving Will suddenly unsure of their safety. He turned his attention back to his family, his expression now serious.

  “The violin quartet next week sounds lovely. I think I want to go," Interface said to June but stopped when she saw Will’s expression. June and Ben turned to Will to see why Interface stopped talking and their moods dampened.

  “What is it, Will? Is there danger?” June asked, recognizing the expression on his face and knowing not to discount Will’s hunches.

  “I don’t know yet. Something feels off," Will told them, but he could not provide specifics. “I think I’m going to need to limit the amount of my recreation until I figure it out.” The other three watched and waited while Will weighed the situation in his mind. “I think we’ll be okay for now. It was only a passing feeling, so I think we can carry on, but I’d like everyone to watch for anything suspicious or out of pce. If you go out alone, stay in the crowds.”

  The four of them looked at each other for a moment, but trusting Will’s intuitive sense, they turned back to the community board, shaking off the heavy feeling of Will’s warning.

  The four of them looked through the listing of activities for another fifteen minutes, deciding what looked fun for them to try out. After exhausting this week’s options, they escorted Interface to the establishments on the Concourse that had posted the open positions and helped her apply. Seeing her cheery disposition and how cute she was, they hired her on the spot and let her know when she could begin.

  ****

  Sullivan ducked behind a potted pnt, narrowly avoiding being spotted by one of the marks when he turned his attention from the bulletin board to scan the crowd. Sullivan counted to ten, then walked through the crowd in the opposite direction, keeping obstacles between himself and the group he had spotted.

  “Boss, come in; I’ve got news," Sullivan called on the discrete comm device on the pel of his jacket.

  “What is it, Sully?” Came Compaan’s voice over his earpiece.

  “I just spotted our marks on the main Concourse. They made it aboard at Bourdan," Sullivan reported.

  “Good Work. We must just salvage this shitshow after all. Get back here ASAP. We’ll have a strategy meeting in one hour,” Compaan ordered.

  “Roger,” Sullivan confirmed as he returned to the expansive passenger deck, where the rest of the team was waiting.

  ****

  "So, what do you think?” Interface spun around, showing off the white blouse and bck pants of her waitress uniform for her new job at the Rainbow Starlight Lounge. When they stopped by the bar the day prior, Del, the manager, had taken one look at her and hired her on the spot. “We need some perkiness around here,” Del had said. “You’ll be perfect.”

  “You look adorable,” June said, admiring the outfit and the wearer. “I almost wish you didn’t have to leave.”

  “I’ll still be here, silly. We can still spend tonight together," Interface said as a naked copy walked up from behind June, hugged her around the waist, and kissed the spot on her neck where it met her shoulder. “I can even wear the outfit if you’d like," she said as her silver skin morphed into a matching white blouse and bck pants.

  “Too bad you don’t have two actual outfits. Half the fun is taking them off," June said, running her finger along Interface’s jawline.

  “I’ll pick another one up tomorrow, then you can take it off for real," The previously naked Interface said, pulling June close, clothes melting away and becoming naked again.

  “Have fun at the job tonight!” June called over her shoulder to the white and bck-uniformed Interface, heading out to work while her naked twin continued to kiss June’s neck, pulling up June’s shirt over her head.

  Interface stepped down the short set of steps from the airlock to the maintenance hangar floor as the door melted closed behind her. Heading to the tram lobby, she passed several maintenance workers, smiling and waving. Their furrowed brows smoothed, smiles bloomed across their faces, and they waved back. Exiting the hangar and standing before the tram door, she pressed the call button and hummed a tuneless song to herself, excited to see what this new experience would bring her.

  Interface arrived at The Rainbow Starlight well before it got busy, about a half hour before her shift was supposed to begin. As she entered, she spotted Del leaning on the bar, chatting with Joe, the bartender. Del, noticing her arrival, waved Interface over to the bar.

  “Evenin’, Inta Darlin’. You feel ready to get to it?” Del asked, trying to see past Interface’s excited expression and gauge if she was feeling nervous about her first night.

  “Yes, ma’am. I memorized the food and drink menus, and I’m really excited to meet lots of new people," Interface said, her exuberance causing Del to smile.

  “Well, you’ll find that you’ll be doing ‘meetin’ and more servin’ tonight. Customers don’t always like to chitchat with the servers," Del cautioned. “You’re allowed to, of course, but you need to make sure that everyone in the bar has your attention when they need it.”

  “Of course. You can count on me," Interface assured her.

  Del smiled at someone she assumed was a naive and inexperienced young woman. “Just smile, do your best, and if you have any questions, let me know and I’ll help you out.”

  Interface nodded knowingly. “While we wait for the rush, why don’t you wipe down the tables in section three, which will be yours for the evening?” Del directed her, and Interface went off to work with a rge grin on her face.

  A short while ter, business began picking up, and patrons of all walks of life poputed the tables and booths assigned to Interface. There were couples on vacation, having dinner and drinks after a long, hard day of rexing by one of the pools on board made up to look like a beach, and a construction crew heading out to a contracted job. They were all living their lives, which, for a little while at this bar, intersected with hers.

  Interface smiled and joked with them, showering them with attention and kind smiles. In return, they smiled back; their spirits lifted just a little bit. She drank these small interactions like the finest wine, sipping and savoring each conversation’s complexity and simple beauty.

  One customer in particur, a middle-aged salesman, came in alone and sat down.

  “Good evening. Can I get you started with a drink?” Interface asked with a cheerful tone in her voice.

  "Scotch, please,” the man answered in a polite but weary tone. His head was bowed down slightly as the weight of his responsibilities pulled on him.

  “Coming right up," Interface said, noting the man’s beaten-down demeanor as she went to the bartender to fetch the scotch.

  Interface returned and pced the gss on the table before the salesman. As he took his first sip and grimaced at the sting of the alcohol, she asked, “Have you decided what you would like?” indicating something from the menu. “Yes, chicken marsa sounds good this evening.”

  Taking his menu, she said, “I’ll go put that right in,” and left to give his order to the kitchen. She returned almost immediately, carrying a carafe of water, topped his gss off, then, to his surprise, poured a gss for herself and sat down next to him. Answering the unspoken question on his face, she said, “You looked like you could use a friend," as she slid her chair closer to the table and turned to face him. Something about her smile and warm, maternal tone of voice put him at ease, and his need to unburden himself found him opening up to his silver-skinned waitress.

  “Yeah, I could do with someone to talk to right about now," he said, taking another sip of his drink.

  Interface mirrored him and took a sip of her water. “Well, I’m on break for a little bit. What’s got you down?” She said with a concerned look.

  “Where to start?” he said with a self-deprecating chuckle. I’m in a thankless, dead-end job that requires me to travel for months at a time, and my boss is kind of a prick. My wife is six months pregnant, and I’m worried that I can’t be a good dad when I’m gone so much." Interface reached across the table, took his closest hand in hers, and squeezed it.

  He gave a heavy sigh and stared down at his drink. “I should be happy; I have a good-paying job, a great wife, and a baby on the way. All the outward signs of success, but it feels like the passion is gone out of my life and I’m stuck in a rut.”

  He swirled the liquid in his gss and shook his head. “You know I used to py the violin," he said, “I was pretty good, too. But it’s tough to make a living as a musician, and my family was always more supportive of my siblings who went into business. Though they didn’t come right out and say it, I felt the pressure to do the same. And my Abigail deserves a better life than a broke musician’s wife.” A sad, wistful look crossed his face as he stopped his story.

  “Just because you have grown and are now doing the responsible things, it doesn’t mean you have to give up on the things that give you joy," Interface said when he was silent for a few moments. “Sure, things change; nothing ever stays the same, but when one thing ends and a chapter closes, another one begins.”

  She thought momentarily, “On my way to work just this evening, I passed a little shop a little ways down the Concourse that sells musical instruments. The operators of this ferry’s hospitality crew seem to have thought of everything. I bet they have a violin or something you could take when you travel. Something just for you.”

  She patted the hand that she was holding. “You know, I was just looking through the ship’s activity board yesterday, and next weekend, a string quartet is scheduled to have a concert in the Atrium. You should go. Rekindle that passion. Just because you’re ‘Mr. Responsible’ now doesn’t mean you have to give up everything. Maybe you just need to find a different way to do it," she said with a warm smile.

  He thought about what she said, and his demeanor brightened. “You know, you may be onto something. Thanks." he smiled for the first time since he walked into the bar that night.

  Interface looked over to the kitchen. “It looks like your meal is ready. Let me go get it," she said, pcing her hand on his shoulder for a moment while she stood, then went to get his meal.

  She brought his meal to him, and as she left to attend to her other customers, he looked up at her with a smile and said, “Thank you, so much," meant for more than just the meal she brought him. She returned the smile and went back to the bar to fetch drinks for another table.

  A short time ter, after the man had left and she was clearing his table, she found a note under the rge tip he left. It read, “Thanks for everything!” and was signed with a G clef.

  She smiled, put the note and tip in her apron, and finished clearing the table.

  ****

  At the end of the night, Interface, Joe, the bartender, and Trixie, the other waitress, gathered at the bar, dividing up the night's tips while Del was in the back office, tallying receipts.

  “Pretty good tips tonight for the size of the crowd," Joe said appreciatively as he put his portion in his pocket and then grabbed his jacket.

  “That’s because everyone seemed to love Inta here," Trixie said, pyfully flicking Interface’s pin-on name badge, her nickname embzoned in bck permanent marker. Looking through the gss front door to a well-dressed couple waiting just in front of the bar, she said, "Well, it looks like my dates are here," she said, brushing her bright blue-dyed hair over her shoulder, all smiles. “You all have a good night; I know I will," she called back, heading out the front door. They both greeted Trixie with a hug and a kiss on either cheek. As the couple hugged Trixie, the woman looked intently over Trixie’s shoulder into the bar, staring at Interface for a long moment with a hungry, predatory look, locking eyes for a moment on Interface, chatting animatedly with Joe. The woman smiled, then turned as they walked down the corridor, presumably heading to someone’s cabin.

  Before Joe could finish putting his jacket on, Interface turned and asked, “Joe, can I ask you something?”

  Joe finished slipping on his jacket, then responded, “Sure, Inta. What’s on your mind?”

  A little nervous, she asked, wringing her hands, “Do you think I did a good job tonight? Do you think Del will keep me on?”

  “Trust me, Kid, you did great," Joe said. Interface beamed a big smile at him, then he said goodnight and headed back to his cabin.

  Interface poked her head into the office, said goodnight to Del, and then headed back to the Nestia. She was on Cloud Nine the whole way back. I spent an entire night talking with random people who just happened to come into the bar, hearing some of their stories, and making their night a little bit better with a kind word and a smile. She supposed the drinks helped, too, she thought with an outward smile. And the best part was that she got to do it all again tomorrow.

  ****

  Shortly after Interface left for her first shift at the bar, Will left the Nestia on his own task. The momentary feeling of being watched while at the community board bothered him a lot. The feeling left him with a chill in his chest that reminded him of the first days after the crash nding of the ‘Saturn’s Heart’. He couldn’t shake the feeling that there were tigers in the tall grass, so he decided he needed to see what he could do to chase them out.

  Taking the tram to the Concourse, Will found the public communications center on the mezzanine level, about a quarter of the way from the forward sections of the public area.

  As he entered, the attendant at the front desk greeted him. “Good afternoon. Are you looking to use one of the Q-Net booths?” the thin man behind the desk asked, trying to be helpful.

  “Yes, I need to contact the maintenance shop on Penrose Station in the Bourdan system," Will said.

  “Hmm, hold on a moment, please," The attendant said while looking up Bourdan in his extensive listings. “Yes, Bourdan. That will be twelve dolrs for ten minutes.”

  Will’s eyebrows shot up at the highway robber rates, but he stifled any grumbling and paid the man. “We definitely need to investigate getting our own public Q-Net node setup on the Nestia, and maybe a secured point-to-point as well," Will thought to himself.

  “Booth four, if you please. The time will start once the connection has been established.”

  “Thank you," Will said and went to the assigned booth. Closing the small privacy door behind him, he turned and sat in the chair provided. On the screen in front of him were the words, ‘Maintenance Shop, Penrose Station, Bourdan,’ and just below that, a button that said ‘Connect’.

  Will pressed the button, and the system chimed pleasantly as the connection was made and waited for someone to pick up on the receiving end. The hold music ended and was repced by Jeremy Walters's smiling face. “Will, how are you? I didn’t think I’d be talking to you again so soon. Is everything okay?" he asked, his smile fading when he saw Will’s serious expression.

  “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. I caught some really weird vibes the other day, like something wasn’t right, but I can’t put my finger on it. I need you to do me a favor; can you contact Commander Michaels with station security and ask him if there was any unusual activity around the time of our departure? He might be aware of something that didn’t make it to the public news.” Will had a look of unease on his face, which worried Jeremy.

  “You sure Michaels will help? The security team is usually tight-lipped about what they know and what they get up to," Jeremy said, with some doubt in his voice.

  “Not really, but he seemed like an upright guy. I’m hoping that he recognizes that this isn’t an idle request and follows through with his promise to help when he can," Will said, shrugging his shoulders.

  “What about Dals Security? Have you talked to them yet?” Jeremy asked.

  “And tell them what? I have a weird ‘feeling’ that something is wrong? I don’t think they’re going to be any help unless I come to them with something more concrete, which is why I need Michaels," Will said with a hint of frustration in his voice.

  “Ask Michaels to leave me an encrypted message with the Dals’ public comms system. I’m sending you my public key now. I don’t have much time on this call, so I’ll let you go. Give kisses to Sarah and Tara for me," Will said, finally smiling.

  “I will. It was good to talk to you again, even if you just left. Take care of yourselves out there," Jeremy said. With that, the time ran out, and the connection was terminated. Will opened the small door, exited the privacy booth, and thanked the attendant as he left the communications office.

  He walked over to the mezzanine railing overlooking the wide open space of the Main Concourse and leaned against it, watching the crowds below. “There’s a vague danger threatening my family, and I need to find it before it can act," Will thought to himself, determined to keep his loved ones safe.

  ****

  “You don’t think it’s too big, do you?” Ben asked Interface as they stood in the dining hall, looking at the size of the refrigeration unit in his design for their new kitchen. “We could always do two units, a smaller one in the immediate kitchen area and a rger one in the new pantry over here.” Ben pointed to the spot on the yout diagram as Interface looked over his shoulder, her brows furrowed in concentration.

  “I kind of like the idea of two units. It’ll be more efficient with space and energy," Interface said, waiting for Ben’s decision.

  “You’re right. Two would be a more efficient use of space, and the aesthetics would be better." he smiled and squeezed Interface around the waist in a one-armed hug. “That will also allow us to make the breakfast bar a little wider here,” Ben said, modifying the yout on the tablet, “and add another set of burners on the range." he put down the stylus, looked at the kitchen yout, and smiled. “I think that’s it; that seems like the st detail," he said, leaning back from the tablet dispying their kitchen design.

  “The others are going to love it," Interface cooed in his ear, draping her arms over his shoulders from behind. “Home-cooked meals every night, sitting around a dinner table, enjoying a nice conversation over the meal, just like at Sarah and Jeremy’s," she said softly into his ear.

  “I love seeing you all leave your mark, turning this ship into a home," Interface closed her eyes and held Ben tight, emotion gripping her as a small tear of joy escaped the corner of her eye.

  Ben spun in her arms and held her tight. “There’s no other pce I’d rather be. Here with you is the only pce I could ever imagine calling Home." he kissed her gently on the lips, and she returned it, softly at first, then, as their passion heated, more urgently. She pressed her bare body tight against his; her breasts squished against his chest as she ground her stiffening silver member against the already tented crotch of his pants.

  Their tongues danced together through parted lips, and without breaking the kiss, Ben grabbed Interface’s ass in both hands, lifted her, then spun her around, setting her at the edge of the table. Ben found Interface’s kisses addictive, but he wanted to kiss the rest of her more. His lips migrated along her chin and down her neck, licking and kissing as he traveled a meandering path across her silver skin.

  He kissed down her naked chest to the spot on her breastbone just at the spot where her cleavage started, then left a wet spiral around her right breast, ending at her raised, hard nipple. He sucked it into his mouth, his tongue pping circles around her areo and flicking the hard nub, causing Interface to moan loudly. His kisses continued down her soft belly, his tongue darting briefly into her belly button, and then he moved on.

  June silently appeared in the doorway, watching two of her lovers in their moment of tenderness, her face showing equal parts soft admiration of the beauty of the scene before her and lustful longing. One hand crept into her pants, and the other squeezed her breast as she enjoyed pying the voyeur.

  Ben’s kisses paused slightly at the spot where Interface’s hip met her thigh, caught in a moment of indecision. Interface’s stiff silver rod was only an inch from his face; then he continued down the curve of her inner thigh, found her moistened slit, and ran the ft of his tongue from the bottom to the top, the tip of his tongue licking the base of her cock for only the briefest of moments before parting her folds and diving in.

  He licked the palm of his hand, then grasped her hard length in his fist with a slow, firm pumping motion as his tongue darted around her cunt, keeping time. He vished both her cock and her cunt with equal amounts of attention, eliciting squeals and pants of delight and desire.

  "Oh, Ben, if you’re not going to suck that beautiful silver cock, move over!” June, overcome by the waves of lust radiating off Interface, stripped off her shirt and bra as she walked with desperate purpose to the two. She first grabbed Ben by the head with both hands and gave him a deep and passionate kiss, then pced her hand on top of Ben’s fist, stroking Interface’s shaft together as she swallowed as much of Interface’s uncovered cock and bobbed her head in rhythm with their pumping hands.

  With her free hand, June tore off her pants and vigorously rubbed her clit in earnest as she pumped and sucked Interface’s dick for all she was worth. Ben’s free hand swiftly slid up between June’s thighs, the evidence of her arousal already dripping down them to her knees, and plunged two fingers into her hot, wet pussy.

  “Oh God, I’m gonna cum!” Interface screamed as she grabbed both June and Ben’s heads and pressed them hard into her crotch, cum exploding into their faces. She squirted all over Ben’s kneeling form while her dick fired bst after bst of silvery cum into June’s mouth, puffing her cheeks as she tried to swallow the torrent, but the seal of her lips slipped, and cum leaked out all over her face, dripping onto her naked body.

  Interface’s orgasm sent a shockwave through June, triggering her own orgasm that sent the walls of her pussy into convulsions, squeezing and cmping on Ben’s fingers. June pulled her mouth off Interface’s cock with a ‘shlurp’ and grinned like a Cheshire cat, silver cum still running down the corner of her lips over her chin.

  Ben looked up at June, smiling, pleased at giving Interface so much pleasure. June looked down at him and said, “So good, right?" he nodded emphatically. “I saw you a minute ago; she’s got no refractory period; why don’t you give her a taste?” Nodding to the rod still in their shared grasp.

  The look of indecision returned to Ben’s face, and then June said, “No one wants you to do what you don’t want to do, but if you want to, you can," she said it with soft empathy. “We all like what we like, and there’s nothing wrong with that. I like pussy and cock, and our silver girl here has that in spades. Will’s tastes are a little more vanil, and that’s okay, too. If you think you like something, you can try it; no one will judge you. We all want you to be free to enjoy what you like to enjoy.”

  Ben looked to Interface, who wore a loving, lustful look on her face, then back to June, who smiled at him affectionately. He was in a caring, safe pce, surrounded by people he loved and who loved him unconditionally in return. Then he said softly to Interface, “Is it okay if I kiss it?”

  Interface’s smile broadened. “I want you to have what you want; I am yours, completely, every part of me.” Ben returned her smile and was visibly rexed, finding acceptance in himself. He rose to his feet and grasped the top of one of Interface’s thighs while still stroking her length with his other hand. He opened his mouth in a small O and licked the silver cum from her mushroom-shaped tip, then pulled it into his mouth.

  As he swirled his tongue along the underside of the tip, Interface moaned in appreciation of the skill of one who knows firsthand what a cock wants to feel. His fist stroked her base with firm, quickening strokes as he bobbed his head, taking more of her length into his mouth, his tongue working the underside with every movement.

  June released her grip and scooted under the table until she faced Ben’s raging hard cock, then grabbed one cheek and stuffed his length down her throat, her gag reflex long gone. As she pushed and pulled his ass to make him face fuck her, the fingers of her other hand were making wet squelching noises as she fucked her two fingers hard.

  Driven fast to the precipice of his climax by the taste of once-forbidden fruit, he grunted out his orgasm around Interface’s cock in his mouth, then shot rope after rope of his seed into June’s greedy mouth. The force of his orgasm triggered another from June and Interface; June jammed Ben’s pulsing cock as far down her throat as it would go, sending his seed straight into her stomach as she swallowed, while Interface bsted a silver load much rger than he had anticipated into his mouth, causing him to sputter and gag as he tried to swallow as much as possible. Silver cum ran down his face and covered his chest.

  Coming down from their euphoric high, Ben pulled off Interface’s cock and held her around the waist, ying his head in her p, while June hugged Ben tight around his legs, her knees wobbly from the strength of her orgasms.

  Ben helped June to her feet and pulled Interface down off the table. Then, with a fierceness that surprised them, Ben hugged them tightly. Though he didn’t have the words at the moment, his embrace spoke of his gratitude and love for them.

  ****

  As the three of them comically crowded into the one-person shower stall, they took turns being washed, the two washers rubbing and washing every nook and cranny of the washed. This escated to a cramped three-way session, ending with them all covered in silver emissions and needing to be washed again. This time, Ben scrubbed quickly, then vacated the tiny shower stall before he needed to be scrubbed a third time.

  As he toweled off, he watched June and Interface succumb to the temptation as Interface deftly railed June from behind. The scene was high art; in Ben’s opinion, June pressed up against the side of the shower stall, tits pressing almost ft against the wall, while Interface’s silver globes swayed back and forth in time with the rhythm of her thrusting, the sounds of wet flesh spping mixing with moans and cries of pleasure, yered with the sound of water raining on naked bodies.

  Ben smiled, ignored the shower’s siren call, and returned to the galley to clean up the mess from earlier while the girls had their fun. When he returned to the soon-to-be dining room, he was surprised to find Interface cleaning up the st bit of silvery evidence of their session on the table.

  She turned and smiled when he entered. “Hello, Lover," she said with a happy lilt in her voice as she put one hand on her hip.

  He walked over to her and gave her a hug and a kiss. Ben held her close. “How often are you sneaking around behind us, tidying up, while fucking us senseless in the other room?" he said it with a warm smile and a hardening cock.

  “Literally all the time," she said, grinding her naked ass into his crotch. “Lucky for me, I enjoy cleaning up almost as much as I like making the mess.”

  Even as her delicious silver ass teased his cock to attention, his mind whirred with questions. “So what’s it like to be in two pces at once? If I were making June squeal in the shower right now, I don’t know that I could hold a rational conversation in the other room while mopping up," he said with a smile at the thought.

  “She giggled, then said, “Have you ever walked somewhere, thinking about something that occupied your mind, then suddenly realized that you arrived? Your mind was busy moving your body, coordinating your limbs, and navigating while your mind was also thinking your thoughts. Well, I’m doing the same thing, except instead of one body, it’s several, but the difference is that I’m fully there.”

  She set down her washcloth and backed up closer to Ben. “Right now, my mind is controlling the power flow from the core, maintaining the 4-D wrinkle, monitoring all the subsystems of the ship, riding the tram on my way to my new job at the bookseller’s shop, choking June with my cock in the shower, and having this conversation with you, enjoying rubbing my ass against your cock, thinking about how I can convince you to whip it out so I can suck you off.”

  She said the st part with a flirty smile and spun in his arms so she could give him a kiss and hold him close. “It was part of the trade-off, a long time ago now, when I gave up my flesh and blood body to become the ship’s interface. I’m something different now—something more. My mind grew beyond the limits of my flesh and blood brain, and now I am expansive.” She kissed the crook of his neck, and her hand trailed down his body and rubbed his cock through his pants.

  “And I can see that your mind is simir. You were already insightful, but now your mind is expanding and growing.” She fell to her knees, undid his pants, released his aching cock, and sucked it into her mouth until her nose pressed into his pubic hair. “Even now,” Interface whispered into his ear through his comms earpiece, “you are fully enjoying my throat around your cock while simultaneously carrying on an entirely different line of thought. Am I right? What are you thinking about right now?”

  “Yeah, you’re right," he groaned as her tongue massaged the underside of his cock. “I was actually thinking about your magic trick back on Penrose station when you carried the transponder back to the ship. Oooh, God!” Even though he was carrying on with two lines of thought, it was difficult to vocalize it when she started rubbing the space between his balls and asshole while bobbing her head on his cock. “Fuck, that’s good," he cried out.

  “I was thinking, aah, about how handy it would be to, Oh Shit, be able to return to the ship whenever we needed to, even in the case of an emergency, OH FUCK!” Ben said, struggling to verbalize his thoughts while Interface did everything she could to make him cum. His climax finally washed over him as Interface shoved a pinky finger into his asshole. He gripped her head tight and shot his load straight down her throat, grateful once again that she had no need for air.

  Spent and panting, he smiled at Interface as she rose to her feet, licking her lips. She leaned in, hugged him, and said, “That was unfair of me, I know, but I was curious to see how far I could push you.” Nestling into his shoulder, she asked, “So what did you have in mind regarding dislocating to the ship?”

  “A couple of things came to mind, actually. What did the crew wear for pressure suits?” Ben’s question caught Interface off guard.

  Not seeing where his mind was going, she responded, “They’re hanging up in one of the spare closets not far from the starboard airlock, though I wouldn’t trust them until I’ve had a chance to thoroughly check them out. Why?”

  “How do you control the material of your body? Do you constantly generate the precursor fluid, then turn it into your body? Can you switch it back and forth?" he asked.

  Again, she couldn’t quite follow his line of thought but answered anyway. “The Nestia forms the precursor fluid, which I then draw into my body by way of my 4-D connection to the ship. I can then process it however I need, either to dispense it for you," she said with a devilish grin, “or draw it into my body, firming it up. And yes, I can release it again, returning it to a liquid or even its powdery form again.”

  “And do you have to concentrate on it to keep its form once you’ve shaped it, or does it stay until you make it change again?” Interface finally put the pieces of Ben’s line of questioning together, understanding what he had in mind.

  “You want to know if I can make pressure suits using the precursor fluid instead of a conventional suit. What would be the advantage of that?” She asked, truly curious now.

  Ben smiled excitedly. “The purpose would be twofold. One, we’d be able to carry a suit wherever we found ourselves, all folded up into 4-D space or something, avaible on request, maybe a button to signal you to unfurl it. Second, if one of us needs to make a quick ‘get away’, then the suit is already with us and we are wrapped in a convenient 4-D connected object that you can just pull us back to the ship, like a fish on a line.”

  “That’s a pretty clever idea, and it wouldn’t be too far from how the original pressure suits worked," she said, straightening his shirt out. “They were all connected to the ship via 4-D for air and power, but you still had to take the time to put them on and take them off. Using precursor fluid, I wouldn’t need to hold its form; just manage the state change.” Interface smiled and nodded approvingly. “Have you worked out any of the 4-D geometry for these new suits yet?”

  “I’ve gotten as far as a gauntlet and bracer, but not much else yet. It’s all in my head at the moment; I’ll draft the design into one of the terminals as soon as we finish the kitchen," Ben said.

  “We’ve nailed down the design; I can do the rest on my own. Shoo, go draft your gauntlets, and I’ll come review them with you in a bit," she said, swatting his butt, sending him off.

  He gave her a deep, soulful look, then kissed her softly on the cheek. “I love you, Interface.”

  She smiled and said, “I love you, too.”

  ****

  Before leaving for the first shift of her other new job at the bookseller’s shop, she had decided she needed a kind of uniform for this job, too. She didn’t think that the white blouse and bck pants would say, ‘Hey, she looks like she works in a bookstore!’ So she discussed it with June, and the outfit they decided on was a brown turtleneck sweater, knee-length tan pleated skirt, and white ft shoes.

  As she rode the tram, she hummed happily to herself, spinning slightly back and forth, pying with her skirt to make it fre out a little, thinking about how, at that very moment, she was also having a delightful session with June and Ben back aboard the Nestia.

  The tram stopped and opened onto the Grand Concourse, the sight of the busy crowd bringing her a sense of peace, as always. Interface stepped into the crowd, making her way to the bookstore, and allowed the delightfully complex mix of emotions emitted by the people to wash over her. She breathed it in like scented flowers.

  Partway to her destination, she spotted Will wandering through the crowd at the same time he saw her. He changed direction and came up alongside her. He wrapped her in a big hug and gave her a chaste kiss suitable for public spaces.

  “Wow, that outfit looks great on you. Headed to the bookstore?” Will commented, his serious expression softening into a smile. He fell into a step beside her, and she hooked her arm around his elbow, walking together.

  “Were you able to get in touch with Jeremy?” Interface asked.

  “Yes. He said he’d contact Commander Michaels and ask him to leave me a message. But you already knew that," Will squeezed her arm and kissed her cheek. “Why do you pretend like that?” he asked.

  “I don’t want you or the others to feel weird, like I’m always watching. My people were much more communal than humans seem to be, and I’m trying to be sensitive about that," Interface said with a look of care.

  “Honey, I understand exactly who and what you are. It’s actually reassuring to know that you are always there. My own personal guardian angel is a constant in my life. You don’t need to hide from me. I bet if you ask Ben and June, they’d say the same.” Will tucked a stray bunch of silver hair back behind her ear lovingly.

  Interface smiled adoringly at him and leaned closer to Will as they walked. “Okay, no more pretending then, though I don’t know everything. For example, why exactly have you been walking circuits around the Concourse since your call with Jeremy?”

  Will’s serious expression returned. “The unsettled feeling at the community board felt a little too much like that time at the ‘Saturn’s Heart’ wreck. I thought that if I walked around and felt it again, I could chase down whatever was causing it." he paused for a moment as they walked, then continued. “It feels like some sort of early warning system in my brain, sort of alerting me to danger." he paused again, looking for words to ask a question. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, Honey, and I want you to know that given the same choices, I would do it all over again. But I want to know: are you changing us? Making us into what you need?” Then he added quickly, “I don’t mind becoming whatever you need me to be, if that’s the case.”

  Interface became pensive for a moment, then she expined. “Our connection is changing you, but it’s not making you different. It’s difficult to expin, but you are becoming more of who you are, unfolding like a lotus flower. It sounds strange, but you are becoming more ‘You’.”

  She continued. “You had that ability to sense danger before we bonded, and now it’s simply becoming stronger as you become stronger. Ben was already clever, and now our connection is letting him be more so. June’s reflexes and instincts were always sharp, and now she’s sharper. Our bond amplifies what is already there. The effect goes both ways, too. You all are making me stronger, and we’ll all continue to grow together.” Then, answering his unspoken question, “I didn’t make you fall in love with me either, though I really couldn’t help myself from falling in love with you. I hope you feel the same way.”

  The honest vulnerability and uncertainty she expressed caught Will by surprise. He stopped walking, pulled her in, and hugged her tight. “Don’t for a second doubt how much I love you, or any of us, for that matter. I wouldn’t trade this for anything in the whole gaxy.”

  Interface hugged him back tightly, and they stood in their embrace for several moments, basking in the warmth. Reluctantly, she pulled back and hooked her arm back into his. “Okay, you. Let’s get going.”

  They continued down the Concourse until they came up to Jyrra’s coffee cart. Jyrra spotted them and waved, so they waded through the crowd to her to say hi.

  “Hello again!” Jyrra said cheerfully. “Can I get you something?”

  “I’ll have a cup of coffee, please. Bck," Will requested.

  “Nothing for me, thank you. I’m heading to the bookstore for my first shift there," Interface said excitedly.

  “Oh, that’s great!” Jyrra said. “I’ll probably see you there in a little bit when my shift is over. I need to pick up a new book for the Book Club," she said, smiling at the thought of seeing Interface again. “Maybe you could join us if you wanted,” Jyrra offered, smiling meekly. “We meet once a week and read a little together and talk about the book the group picks out. We’re meeting tonight; are you free? I don’t think the other girls will mind if you tag along.”

  Interface had another shift tonight at the bar, but being ‘the best multi-tasker ever’, she had no qualms about accepting. “That sounds amazing. I’m always up for meeting new people.”

  While they were talking, Jyrra’s deft green hands swiftly poured Will’s drink, then handed it to him. “I’ll double check with the girls, then let you know when I stop by for the book ter.” Jyrra looked over to Will apologetically. “Sorry, dies only," she said with a smile.

  “No worries, book clubs aren’t quite my style,” Will said with a chuckle. “I’m sure you’ll have fun," he said to Interface.

  “I gotta go, Jyrra. See you tonight!” Interface said, heading off with Will on her arm.

  As they walked the rest of the distance to the bookstore, Interface watched Will as he walked beside her, casually scanning the crowd but smiling when his gaze crossed over Interface. She smiled back and watched as his eyes returned to sweep the crowd. She mimicked his deliberate, sweeping watchfulness, trying to guess where he looked at any moment. That’s when her eyes settled on the same pair of tall, four-armed men she had spotted the day before.

  They strode through the crowd with long, loping strides, causing their gait to swing back and forth. Unlike st time, they weren’t walking away from her but in her general direction. As they closed the distance with Will and Interface, it seemed to her that, at that moment, everything slowed and faded slightly, and her sight locked onto the taller of the two men.

  His head turned in her direction, and their eyes locked. His face contorted as it tried to express recognition, confusion, and delight all at once, but a kind of disbelief won the battle for expression on his face. He stared at Interface like he was afraid that she would vanish into thin air if he blinked. He stopped mid-stride, to the confusion of his companion, and continued to try to understand exactly what he was looking at.

  When her eyes met this tall stranger’s eyes, Interface was again transported far away and long ago. She saw fshes of memories: she saw again the crowded garden bathed in sunlight amongst a grove of trees. Her memory fshed, and now she was in a small white room with a group of her closest friends and family. She was wearing a white, loose-fitting robe, and they were all smiling and crying at the same time. Another fsh and she was immersed completely in fluid, floating peacefully, then felt a torrent of pain and ecstasy tear through her, shredding her and reforming her as she expanded rger than the trees she had passed beneath in the courtyard garden.

  “Interface?” A voice called from a distance. “Interface?” the voice called again, the sound of worry creeping into it. The voice called a third time, and she suddenly rushed towards it and snapped back into the present, recognizing it as Will’s, standing in front of her, holding her shoulders, and calling her name.

  “Interface, are you okay?” Will asked again, seeing her blink and coming back to her senses.

  “Yeah, eh, yeah, I’m okay," she said shakily. Will guided her to an empty bench, sat her down, and sat next to her. “It was another fsh of memories," she said, mustering a half-hearted smile.

  “Is getting your memories back supposed to be this rough?" he asked, concerned.

  “I really don’t know. I don’t think anyone else has ever been in a position like this, and if they had been, would I remember?” She said pyfully, the smile returning to her face.

  “What did you remember? Can you describe it?” Will asked, satisfied she was okay but now curious.

  “I was surrounded by lots of people I knew. I don’t remember who they were, just that I knew them. It felt like some occasion, but no birthday cakes or ‘Happy Whatever’ banners were hanging. Then I remember feeling tremendous pain and ecstasy, like the rgest orgasm in the gaxy. The rest of the details are kind of fuzzy and are slipping away for now," she said, wishing there was more she could tell him.

  “Both times you started remembering, you were out here in the middle of the Concourse. What’s triggering it? Maybe we can recreate it and help you remember more," Will suggested, rubbing her shoulder soothingly.

  “Hmm, I saw a couple of tall men, really tall, walking through the crowd both times, with four arms," Interface said, recalling the basic details of what she saw of them before her remembered memory carried her away.

  “That sounds kind of like Toparians. They’re an unusual species; they keep to themselves mostly. I think I did see a couple of them on board. I’ll keep an eye out for them. If I run into them, would you like to meet them?” Will asked.

  “I think I would. Something about them seems important about my past; maybe they know, and if not, they might trigger some more memories," Interface looked subdued and contemptive. Looking up into Will’s eyes, her expression was one of longing. “There’s so much that I’ve lost, Will—so much I can’t remember yet. I feel the memory of all of the people I’ve loved hanging just out of reach, hidden in the mists." her eyes started to moisten.

  “We’ll get you stronger and figure out how to revive your memories," Will said reassuringly, holding her tight. With her head resting on his shoulder, he scanned the crowd as well as he could from his seat for the Toparians, but they were nowhere in sight.

  They sat like that for a few minutes more before Interface looked up, feeling like herself again. “Okay, I’d better get going. I don’t want to be te for my first shift at the bookstore," she said, standing up and pulling Will to his feet. They scanned the crowd one st time for the Toparians, and not seeing them, they headed off.

  When they arrived and stepped through the bookshop's entrance, the unmistakable scent of old paper and dried ink greeted them, announcing better than any sign exactly what this shop was all about. A soft chime sounded when they entered, alerting the appropriately bookish-looking older man wearing thick gsses and almost entirely white hair, wild and unkempt on his head.

  “Hello again, my dear," the man said to Interface warmly. “And who might this strapping young d be?" he said he was waiting to be introduced.

  “Gary, this is Will," she said to the stooped-shouldered older man, then to Will, “Gary is the manager of the bookstore.”

  “Pleased to meet you," Will said, extending his hand.

  “And you," Gary replied; the strength of his handshake had faded with age as much as the rest of his physique. Gary had a grandfatherly aura about him, making Will like him all the more.

  “You all set?” Will asked Interface.

  “Yeah, I’m good. You can go back to your patrols," she said with a soft poke at his side.

  Will pyfully grabbed her, pinning her arms to her sides, then lifted her off her feet to pnt a kiss on her forehead. “Be good." he half-heartedly admonished. Setting her down, he gave her another peck on the cheek and said, “Call me if you need me," pointing to his ear. Then he left the bookstore and soon disappeared into the passing crowd.

  “Well, my dear, let us get started then, shall we?” Gary said, sweeping his arm wide and indicating that she should come behind the counter with him. “I’ll need you here for most of the day, but I am still able to open the store and close up at the end of the day, so you won’t need to worry about the receipts; I’ll take care of all that. I’ll just need you to keep things tidy and ring up purchases throughout the day. Is that okay?" he asked. Interface nodded with a soft smile.

  Gary then spent the next fifteen minutes showing Interface how to accept payments for purchases, where all the shipping supplies were, and how to operate the on-demand book binding machine. He shuffled slowly through the store, barely lifting his feet from the floor as he walked, Interface trailing behind him the entire time, attentively.

  “That’s about it. Any questions?” Gary asked.

  “No, I think it got it all," Interface said, smiling at the old man.

  “Excellent, excellent. The store’s in good hands, so I’m off; I have a lunch date with a lovely white-haired vixen I met at bingo st night. Call me if you have any problems; my number is next to the communicator pad. Ta Ta, dear.” With that, Gary slowly shuffled out of the store and into the foot traffic outside, parting the faster-moving crowd around him like a boulder in a stream.

  Soon, Interface was alone in the bookstore, so to keep herself occupied, she went around to the pre-printed physical books and the digital book dispys, dusting and tidying things up, which took less than thirty minutes. With nothing else to do until a customer arrived, she decided to read a physical book for novelty. She walked over and grabbed the first book her hand nded on, brought it behind the counter with her, and sat on the stool there. The title on the front cover read, “Old Earth: Reign and Fall of the Ottoman Empire.”

  It seemed like a book in a series, though it didn’t say what number or how many it was. It didn’t matter to Interface; she was more interested in the process itself, reading from a physical book instead of downloading the data directly. The act of reading had an interesting feel; there was a tangible, physical connection when holding the book and flipping the pages that seemed to her at once archaic yet immensely satisfying, almost meditative.

  She sat on the stool behind the counter, with the book propped open on one of Gary’s book holders on the counter facing her. She rapidly flipped through the book at about one page a second, reading the entire length of the two open pages in the time it took her to flip to the next page.

  She finished it in about fifteen minutes and thought about the curious stories about ancient Earth contained in the book. She still had no customers, so she put that book back and grabbed another random book titled “Arganath Dancing: Step by Step." This one had fewer words but full pictures of a blue-skinned man and woman in different poses, captured as they danced along.

  As she flipped through the book, she built a simution of the two figures in her mind, then pced them in the path illustrated in the footwork diagrams that accompanied the full-color photos.

  Soon, she had enough data to animate the figures, and she watched them twirl and dip around the dance floor in her mind. She was struck by the beauty and grace of their movements and saw why someone was moved enough by the art form to put it down in a book.

  She spent the rest of the afternoon reading book after book, savoring all of the stories, and began piecing together some of the recent history and culture of the people of this era.

  Interface had made her way through a couple of dozen books when Jyrra's perpetually cheerful face popped into the bookstore.

  “Hi there! How has your first day behind the counter been?” Jyrra asked, all smiles.

  “Very quiet. I've ended up spending half the day just reading.” Interface held up the current book she was halfway through as proof.

  “That's why I went for the coffee cart instead of this. If I had to sit here quietly and wait for someone to stop in, I'd go crazy. At the cart, I'm always talking to someone. And now you are, too!” She ughed, gesturing to herself.

  Putting both hands on the counter and unintentionally showcasing her delectable cleavage to Interface, Jyrra said, “A couple of days ago, I asked Gary to bind up the book we're reading tonight. He said he'd set it aside in the ‘will call’ box for me.”

  Interface looked around under the counter and found a book with a slip tucked in its pages with her name on it. She put it on the counter. “The Asteroid Miner's Daughter," Interface read the title aloud.

  “Yeah, it’s one of those steamy romance novels where all the characters are melodramatic and deeply misunderstood romantic types, doomed to loveless lives, until one day a mysterious person shows up and happens to be into deeply misunderstood romantic types," Jyrra chuckled. “The plot is as thin as the paper it’s written on, but the steamy scenes more than make up for it," she said with a big smile, wiggling her eyebrows.

  Interface ughed along with the outgoing barista and gave her a saucy smile.

  "Oh, and I talked to the rest of the dies; they all said they’d love to have another over for ‘Book Club’. I’ll be heading over in just a little bit; what time are you done here?” Jyrra asked.

  In a stroke of good timing, Gary shuffled slowly into the bookstore, seemingly unaware of how much more his hair was disheveled than usual and that there was still a bright red lipstick smudge on the colr of his shirt. “Good evening, dies," he said as he entered the store.

  “Hi Gary. How was your lunch date?” Interface asked, surreptitiously smirking at Jyrra.

  “It was nice, very nice. She’s a lovely woman," he said, eyes looking off into the distance, suddenly lost in the memory of his recent rendezvous. He shook himself from his reverie and said as he shuffled back behind the counter, “You did a very fine job today, my dear; the pce didn’t burn down, for which you are to be commended," he winked pyfully at Interface, guessing that it had not been very busy today.

  Suddenly recognizing the green-skinned, horned girl standing in his shop, “Ah, Miss Jyrra, picking up your book, I see. Good, good. Not many prefer the old-style paper books; most want the tablet version. Poor Bessy here hardly ever gets to bind books for me now," he said, patting the output slot for the machine that took up most of the backroom of the little shop.

  “I’m back now, my dear, so you are free to go," he said to Interface in a friendly manner. “Same time tomorrow?”

  “Yes, thank you," she said, stepping out from behind the counter, then stopped. “Gary," her tone tentatively curious, “How long does it take ‘Bessy’ to bind a book? Jyrra’s invited me to her book club this evening, and I need a copy.”

  Gary’s eyes lit up in delight. "Oh, no time at all, only a few minutes. What title are you looking for? Oh, of course, the same as Miss Jyrra, silly me," he went on, muttering to himself. He shuffled over to the controls, punched in a couple of parameters, and then hit the ‘Go’ button. They could hear the machine whirling to life; the muffled ‘kerchunk, kerchunk’ of the book being assembled penetrated the backroom wall. A few minutes ter, the mechanical sounds from the backroom silenced, and then a completed book slid out the chute, identical to Jyrra’s copy.

  “Here you go, my dear, fresh off the press," Gary said, pcing the still-warm copy into Interface’s hands. “And there’s no charge; consider it a perk of the job," he said with a warm smile.

  “Thank you, Gary!” Interface said appreciatively, then gave him a kiss on the top of his head. “Are you sure you’re all set to close up?” She asked one final time before leaving.

  “Yes, yes. I’m quite capable of closing up. You run along to your book club and have fun. I’ll see you tomorrow," he said, waving his hands and shooing her off.

  “Okay, see you tomorrow!” Interface said as she turned and left with Jyrra at her side.

  ****

  Jyrra led Interface across the Concourse to the elevators, heading up and down to the starboard side cabins. Several dozen passengers loitered around the elevator doors, waiting for their turn to return to the cabin decks, so Jyrra and Interface queued up behind, waiting for their turn.

  As they waited for the elevator, Jyrra gave Interface a quick rundown of what to expect. “So there are seven of us in the book club, and you make eight. There’s Mary; it’s her cabin that we meet in because she has the rgest. Zoraya—she’s one of those tall, thin Cantroni women. Sujia and her husband are traveling to some sort of academic conference; apparently, they’re experts in ancient Earth feudal societies.

  There’s Amelia; she’s a wandering, free spirit like myself. “Jyrra smiled. Interface instantly saw that Jyrra had feelings for Amelia and that they probably were a couple. “Then there’s Denise and Lena, sisters, traveling to help care for their sick grandmother.”

  After Jyrra’s thorough briefing, it was finally their turn for the lift. They entered, and Jyra pressed the button for deck twenty-one. They rode the lift with several other passengers; some were talking quietly, and others were silent. The door opened at their stop, and they stepped out into a wide corridor lined with doors on either side.

  Interface followed Jyrra down the hallway until they reached their destination, cabin 21382, and knocked on the door. An older blonde woman holding a half-full wine gss opened the door, and Jyrra greeted her. “Mary! How are you?” Then she introduced her new friend. “Mary, this is Interface.”

  “Pleasure to meet you," Mary said warmly.

  “Nice to meet you, too. You can call me Inta if you’d like," Interface said in response.

  “Come in, come in; we’ve already opened the wine and are getting settled. You’re the st to arrive; we can start as soon as you get a gss and find a seat," Mary said, as an efficient hostess.

  Mary brought them to the sitting area, which was arranged so that two long couches and a loveseat faced each other across a coffee table in a triangur fashion. This cozy arrangement allowed everyone easy access to the snacks on a ptter and a bottle of wine in a bucket of ice on the low table.

  Jyrra took the empty spot on the loveseat next to a fiery redhead with long curly hair, who Interface assumed was Amelia. Jyrra gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek as she sat close to her on the loveseat. One couch was completely occupied, leaving one open seat in the middle of the other couch next to Mary.

  "Everyone, this is Inta. I met her at the coffee cart the other day," Jyrra said to the gathered women. Gesturing to one couch, “Here we have Denise and Lena; between them is Zoraya.” At the mention of their names, each gave Interface a little wave. Indicating onward with an open hand, “This is Sujia.”

  “I am pleased to meet you, Inta," Sujia said formally.

  Sujia was a small woman of Asian descent, wearing her long, jet-bck hair up in an intricate bun. Zoraya, like most Cantroni, was tall and had an extremely thin build. Her light blue skin seemed to sparkle slightly, especially the skin on her hairless head. Lena and Denise had simir features, as you would expect siblings to have, with light brown hair and hazel eyes.

  “Mary, who you have just met…” Mary smiled at Interface when she was mentioned. “...and this is Amelia," Jyrra said, brushing Amelia’s long, curly, fiery red hair out of her face.

  Jyrra and Interface were handed wine gsses, and Mary filled both. “So, Inta, what brings you aboard the Dals?” Mary asked, giving Interface the opportunity to introduce herself more fully.

  “Well, my family and I are traveling to the central systems to return their old ship's transponder. We’re still figuring stuff out, so what we do from there, who knows?”

  “Wait a minute,” Denise said, “transponders don't leave ships after they've been installed unless...” She said, suddenly realizing, “What happened?! It must have been bad.”

  "Oh, it was; they were attacked by pirates, and crash nded," Interface expined. “They helped me get our ship going, and we just barely escaped more pirates. Then we went to Bordan and hopped the ferry, and now here we are.”

  The group was stunned by Interface's brief synopsis of what they considered a very harrowing experience.

  "Oh, there's got to be more to the story than that. Tell us all about it!” Lena demanded, and everyone, with the exception of Mary, nodded their heads and begged for more details. Being the good hostess, Mary recognized that the details were left out on purpose and probably involved some trauma, so she interjected.

  “Now, it was probably an unpleasant experience that Inta doesn’t want to get into, so let's leave her be. She's brave just for mentioning that much. Why don't we get refills, then start the book?”

  With faces expressing regret for possibly making their new attendee uncomfortable, everyone quickly agreed, refilled their wine gsses, pulled out their books, and settled comfortably in their seats.

  Mary turned in her seat to Interface. “The way we usually proceed is that we each take a turn reading a page from the book and just keep going around the circle. I’ll start, then we’ll all take a turn so you can be st in the cycle. Is that okay?” Interface nodded with a bright smile.

  “Okay, dies. ‘The Asteroid Miner’s Daughter’, by Christina Lovece," Mary began reading the title, then continued to page one.

  ~~

  Chapter One: Samantha.

  Father and I have worked on his little ‘rock-hopper’ operation together ever since Mother died seven years ago. He took her death hard, so I stayed with him when I came of age to help with the business and to look after him. Mining is a hard life, even harder in the asteroid belts of New Mars, and over the years, it has worn him down.

  He won’t admit it; he’s too proud a man, but I see it a little more every day; he’s a little slower to get up from the pilot’s seat when we nd on a new asteroid. He groans a little more as he settles onto the couch of our small sitting area in the ship at the end of the day. It bothers me, and I hate to see him struggle so much.

  “Father, we really need to get you some help; you can’t keep this pace up forever," I say to him.

  “Nonsense, we don’t need help; I have you," he says to me, his eyes full of pride and appreciation.

  “I see how you struggle,” I continue to press, “and there are lots of men looking for work. I saw a bulletin board with lots of names.”

  ~~

  Mary continued reading to the end of the page, and Denise started reading the next. The plot of the book was a common trope of the daughter falling in love with the hired help, and the women enjoyed it for its campy feel. However, Interface could see that the book club was more of an excuse for them to get together, creating a comfortable little community where they could enjoy each other’s company.

  Interface also felt a sense of anticipation as they read through the book. They were enjoying the story, and she was sure that they would enjoy the ‘naughty parts’, as Jyrra had put it, a little more. Interface had a feeling that there was something more they were waiting for.

  Over the course of the next hour, their turn-taking made it around the circle several times as they read from the book. Interface felt their anticipation grow until the story got to the protagonist’s first solo encounter with the man her father hired to help. It was Interface’s turn to read, and the others listened intently. Jyrra’s rapt attention was almost wholly on the words Interface read, except her hand massaging Amelia's thigh, creeping slowly downward.

  The sense of anticipation was palpable, and Interface could feel their lust rising.

  ~~

  Chapter Three: Samantha.

  I had been watching Nathaniel from a distance for months, and now we were alone in the cockpit together. He was so close I could smell his musk drifting through the air. He looked at me with hungry eyes, a look that made my core hot and my panties wet.

  “You’ve been watching me for a while," Nathaniel said as he pressed me against the wall of the cockpit with his body.

  “Yes," I said meekly, desperately wishing he would tear my clothes off and ravage me.

  “I think you have something for me, don’t you?" he said as he stroked the side of my face, fingers trailing down my neck and then my side. He grabbed ahold of my waist in both hands, pulling me tight to him so that I couldn’t move, not that I wanted to.

  “I think you want me. I think you want me almost as much as I want you," Nathaniel said in a deep, low voice, his mouth just an inch from the crook of my neck, his hot breath washing over my skin.

  “Yes, oh god, yes, Nathaniel, take me!” I cried. He silenced my words with a passionate kiss, then rushed to unzip my jumpsuit, freeing my breasts. I wasn’t wearing a bra, and as soon as he uncovered them, his mouth tched over a nipple, sucking and licking with a raw need. Electricity shot down my spine to my core, and I fumbled with the zipper of his jumpsuit, ying bare his perfectly sculpted pecs and abs.

  He finished stripping me of my jumpsuit, and I stood there in just my white, now-soaked panties, shivering not from the cold but from needy anticipation. He wasted no time and stepped out of his jumpsuit, then once again crushed his body into mine, his massive, hard length grinding into my pelvic bone.

  He spun me around and bent me over the pilot’s seat, tearing off my panties and quickly dropping his boxers to the cockpit floor. He grabbed my hips and rubbed his hard cock up and down the crack of my ass, his pre-cum, and my wetness, making his rod slick. Then the soft head of his cock brushed against my slippery opening and, with an animalistic grunt, drove his hot man meat deep into me, filling me in ways I had only dreamed about until he was balls deep in my pussy.

  ~~

  As Interface read from the book, desire radiated off the other women in the room, washing over her, and she noticed that everyone was rubbing themselves or the person next to each other. Jyrra and Amelia were making out on the loveseat, their hands in each other’s yoga pants, rubbing each other’s clit furiously.

  Denise and Lena had pulled up Zoraya’s shirt and were each licking and sucking on the thin blue woman’s small breasts. They had hiked her skirt up to her waist, and both had their hands at the apex of her thighs, with Lena stroking and rubbing Zoraya's dark blue clit, and Denise pumping two fingers in and out of her slit. Zoraya had a hand in each of their pants, and Interface could see the outline of her fingers moving dexterously.

  To her right, Sujia held her head back, and her eyes closed as her left hand squeezed her breast and pinched her nipples while her right was in her pants furiously rubbing.

  The scene before her had taken Interface completely by surprise; she now soaked in their raw sexual energy and, unbidden, sent it back out, amplifying the frenzy of desire in the room. Erogenous waves pulsed back and forth between the women and Interface, driving them all higher and higher.

  On Interface’s left, Mary looked at her with desire and wonder. She gnced down at Interface’s p with wide eyes as she watched her skirt tent as her cock hardened.

  “I’m a hermaphrodite," Interface expined. “Both sets of plumbing, twice the fun," Interface said nervously, unsure of how Mary would react.

  Mary reached out and, just before touching her, asked, “Is this okay, everything I mean?” nodding her head to the other women. “And this?” She said, gncing down at her hovering hand.

  Wordlessly, Interface nodded, and Mary grabbed and stroked Interface’s length through her skit. “Oh, it’s big," Mary said breathlessly, then her hand trailed down Interface’s leg, then she reached up under her skirt, finding the base of her cock and pussy nestled just below.

  Mary smiled wide and looked Interface in the eyes for approval, to which she smiled and nodded vigorously. Mary slid her fingers up Interface’s slit, then made contact with the base of her cock, then slid her fingers down again.

  Mary then slid off the couch, parted Interface’s knees, and knelt between them. She slid both her hands up Interface’s thighs, pushing her skirt up and out of the way, exposing the treasure Mary was seeking. She slowly slid her middle finger into Interface up to the second knuckle, gently rubbing the top of her canal while she pumped her silver cock in a tight fist with the other.

  Interface was lost in a sea of erogenous energy, waves amplifying back and forth between herself and the others and from Mary’s direct ministrations. While still pumping the base of her cock and fingering her cunt, Mary leaned forward, sucked the tip of Interface’s soft tip into her mouth, and began bobbing up and down, hands and mouth, all in time with the same rhythm.

  Mary wanted more. So she stood up from the floor and pulled her dress up, simultaneously dropping her panties, aiming her hungry, dripping snatch at Interface’s hard length.

  Interface came back to her senses long enough to realize the inevitable consequences should she unload into Mary, so she gently stopped her, holding Mary’s ass in her hands.

  Mary looked back confused, then, in a fsh of inspiration, said, “I have protection!” She reached into a pocket and produced a small square packet with a round bulge. Interface didn’t quite understand, but she didn’t stop Mary when she tore the foil open and pced the round thing on the tip of Interface’s cock. Mary smiled with lust-filled eyes, and she rolled the covering down to the base of Interface’s length. Then Interface smiled with understanding. Interface looked at the condom for a minute, evaluating the risk, and knew her propensity for rge loads.

  So she locked her fingers around the base of her cock and formed a secondary ring, cmping the opening of the condom tight against her shaft. Satisfied there would be no leaks, Interface looked back up to Mary, who presented her ass again. This time, Interface grabbed her hips and pulled her down.

  Mary straddled Interface’s p and gasped as she sank down, enveloping Interface’s hard member. The way Interface filled her depth was better than any of the toys under her bed in the other room, causing her eyelids to flutter. She sat impaled for a long moment, savoring the sensation of being filled and feeling the overcharged buzz of lust in the room. Mary came hard as soon as the tip of Interface’s cock kissed her cervix.

  The room was full of loud moaning and satisfying wet slurping sounds as Amelia pressed Jyrra’s face into her cunt, using her horns as handles for leverage. Denise, Zoraya, and Lena had formed a chain, Zoraya’s tongue buried in Denise’s folds while Lena was pping Zoraya’s snatch, all the while fingering herself furiously.

  Interface, overwhelmed by it all, let herself lose control and grabbed Mary by the hips and jackhammered up into her pussy, until her orgasm finally bsted through her like a bolt of electricity. With a final thrust, she pushed as deep into Mary as she could and exploded in ecstasy. A supercharged tsunami of erogenous energy swept off her in a wave that consumed the rest of the women. As Interface gushed pulse after pulse of silvery cum into the condom, everyone else in the room came thunderously in a chorus of ecstatic screams and cries.

  Mary came hard again as she felt Interface infte the condom in her with cum. She watched in astonishment as it bulged out her lower belly enough to be visible. She was more full than she had ever been in her life, and the totality of sensations overloaded her senses, and she bcked out.

  Interface held her up on her p, still impaled on her length, but Mary’s head drooped to one side, dazed. Coming down the other side of her titanic orgasm, Interface concentrated and pulled emissions back into her body until the condom only contained her softening cock. Then she gently id Mary next to a panting and sweaty Sujia.

  The room was quiet and motionless except for the soft pants of the women and the occasional involuntary muscle twitch of one of their bodies. Face down in Amelia’s p, Jyrra y sprawled on the floor. Without moving, Jyrra said, “Can we meet twice a week from now on?”

  ****

  Forty minutes, several showers, and two dozen bottles of water ter, the women of the book club were finally ready to head back to their own cabins. They smiled, exchanged hugs, and agreed that meeting once a week after tonight was definitely not enough, so they would get together in Mary’s cabin twice a week.

  Everyone except Interface had cabins in this section of the ship, and Sujia happened to have the cabin directly across the hall. They said their goodbyes to Mary, and as Sujia keyed open the door to her cabin, they saw her husband greet her with a hug and kiss that wasn’t long but not quick, implying his desire. It didn’t escape the notice of the women that he sported an erection tenting his pants, and as Sujia led him back inside by the hand, she winked at the women in the hallway and then closed the door, leaving the women in the hallway giggling.

  They walked to the bank of lifts together, then, one by one, went up or down to their deck, leaving Interface to head down to the Concourse alone to ride the tram back to the Nestia.

  The lift doors opened, and Interface stepped out into the Concourse. The overhead lights were dimmed slightly to simute night, but many passengers were out and about, heading to various activities, dinner, or a bar.

  She merged with the slightly smaller crowd of foot traffic, making her way towards the trams heading to the aft of the ship, when she spotted the same tall Toparian man she had seen earlier, sitting on a bench, waiting patiently. He was wearing flowing robes that hid his legs and feet, and two of his four sleeveless arms were crossed in front of him while his other two arms held a glowing tablet he seemed to be scrolling through.

  He looked up from the tablet he was reading, and their eyes met across the short distance as people passed back and forth between them. Interface was rooted to the spot. She didn’t understand why, but he gave her a strange sense of deja vu; she felt like she knew him or had some connection, but nothing she could make sense of.

  When he recognized that she had seen him, he smiled broadly and waved hello, then beckoned her to come over to the bench he was sitting on. Her feet moved of their own accord; a deep curiosity took hold, and she needed to understand what this was all about.

  When she finally stood in front of him, she saw that even sitting, he was taller than she was. He had a kind face, and his eyes gleamed with excitement. The Toparian then stood, towering over her, and said, “Where are my manners? You must excuse me; this is terribly exciting for me. Please sit, sit here," he said, offering her his seat.

  She was confused and a little wary, but her curiosity drove her to do as asked, so she sat, waiting expectantly for an expnation.

  “Allow me to introduce myself; my name is De’noke. I am traveling with other Toparians to start a new colony. I apologize for ambushing you like this, but this is a big ship, and this was the only way I was certain to see you again," he said, kneeling and sitting on his feet, only slightly changing the height disparity.

  “De’noke,” Interface said his name slowly. “How did you know I would be here, and why did you need to see me?”

  “Well," he started hesitantly, “the first question is easier to answer but a little embarrassing." he paused, blushing slightly. I heard you a little while ago, which helped me locate you.”

  Interface raised one eyebrow and said, “The cabins are all extremely well sound-proofed. Even if you were standing directly outside in the hallway, I doubt you could have heard anything.”

  Her slight rebuke made De’noke blush even more. “This may sound strange, but my race is psychic, as I believe yours is." he stumbled over his words and continued to blush furiously. “And, um, well, how to put this, you were broadcasting quite loudly." he nervously wiped away beads of sweat from his forehead. “It felt like you were having a very good time.”

  His comments and nervous demeanor broke Interface’s stoicism, and she burst into ughter. De’noke looked at her in confusion, and when her ughing fit subsided, she said, “Come on, I know a spot where we can talk a little more privately.”

  De’noke looked immensely relieved that she seemed to take his approaching her in this fashion in stride. She got up and then beckoned him to follow her. He did so with a cautiously optimistic smile.

  As they walked, she introduced herself. “My name is Interface, and I think I may have some questions for you as well.”

  “I would like nothing more than to answer any question that you might have," De’noke said earnestly. “Trying to answer questions has been my profession for many years, in a roundabout way. I’m an archaeologist and historian for my people. I’ve spent a long time studying our history, trying to answer some of the big questions: who are we, and where did we come from? Things a society shouldn’t forget, but all too often do.”

  His statement piqued Interface’s interest. “An archaeologist and historian? It doesn’t sound like a young man’s occupation, especially one off to start a new colony," she stated, hoping he would eborate.

  “We are a long-lived species, long enough for several careers. But joining the new colony was my mate’s idea. If it were left to me, I’d never leave the libraries and archaeological sites that I usually haunt. But sometimes one’s duty to family and society is greater than their own wants and requires such sacrifices. To be honest, much of the literature I review has already been made avaible on the Q-Nets, so I can read anywhere without much sacrifice.” Then his tone grew serious for a moment, worry furrowing his brow. “I would do anything for my Mate; joining a new colony is a small thing in the grand scheme of things.”

  Interface reflected briefly on De’noke’s words, then, looking around, said, “Ah, here we are. ‘The Rainbow Starlight Lounge’. I know someone who works here. It’s not very busy tonight, so we can sit in one of the closed sections out of the way.” She led him into the bar and passed a little sign that read ‘Section Closed’ into one of the empty seating areas. All the chairs had been put up on the tables, so she picked one further back out of sight, took down the chairs, and gestured for him to sit.

  “Thank you, but it’s more comfortable for me to kneel than to sit on one of these chairs.” De’noke said as he slid one aside and lowered himself to the floor. Interface sat across the table from him, still a bit shorter. Once settled, she asked, “Okay, if you don’t mind, could you expin why you needed to see me again?”

  “I’m an archaeologist, like I’ve said, and I’ve spent decades documenting ancient ruins, many thousands of years old. These pces on my homeworld, Topar, are mostly found in the sands of the Sindou Desert. The dry conditions preserve the structures and artifacts and have allowed them to survive the ocean of time for us to find now, in the present.”

  De’noke fished his tablet out of a rge pocket in his robe and scrolled through it for a moment until he found the page he was looking for. He spun it around, slid it towards Interface, and gestured for her to look.

  Interface looked closely at the picture of a carved mural on a stone wall. The art was simplistic, etched without perspective, and the figures were only close representations of what it would have looked like in real life. It was broken in pces but seemed to depict a gathering of some sort—lots of people present in an open spot surrounded by a grove of trees. “What is this exactly?” she asked.

  De’noke, excited to see her interested, expined. “This mural was found in what we believe was a temple or grand gathering pce. You can see the Grove surrounding the event," he said as if that had some significance. “And the other participants represented are actually two separate groups of people. The group on the right, on the portion most intact, clearly depicts ancient Toparians; you can tell by the one set of arms folded behind the figures and four round feet.” To illustrate, he lifted the hem of his robe and showed Interface two of his four round, toeless feet.

  “The other portion of the mural didn’t survive as well as the rest, but here and here, you can clearly see these people were bipedal, not quadrupedal like Toparians.” De’noke zoomed the image into the portion of the image showing the biped's feet, clearly showing only two feet and roughly representing toes.

  It was clear that talking about these ancient artifacts excited De’noke; his tone of voice was almost giddy. “And here’s the most interesting part of all; these weren’t just carved, but they were painted as well. The many millennia these stood in the desert faded the paint to almost nothing, but traces are still there. It took me almost two years to carefully gather samples from all over the mural, then another year and a half to analyze the samples and recreate the paint colors from the chemical analysis.” De’noke took back the tablet momentarily, scrolling through the book until he found the page he was looking for. “This is the mural, colorized from the collected data." he spun the tablet around and gave it to Interface again.

  The colorized mural showed a blue sky with a lush green background. The grove of trees was painted in a soft technicolor mix of colors, somewhat matching the Toparians in the foreground. The ground they stood on was white, possibly indicating pavement. The feet of the biped group were also painted; some pairs of feet were pink, some blue or green. But one pair of feet of the remaining portion of the broken mural was painted silver.

  De’noke continued. “The other day in the Concourse, when I saw you for the first time, you looked at me and froze. Then you thought of a memory that struck me as being so close in simirity that it couldn’t be a coincidence. Not only that, you weren’t thinking about seeing the mural; you were thinking about an actual event, like you had been there." he paused for a moment. “I tried to find you immediately afterwards, but your friend whisked you away before I could approach.” Then he blushed again and said, “Ah hem, which is why when I felt your mind again, I knew it was my best shot of finding you and getting a chance to talk to you.”

  As Interface continued to study the image, De’noke spoke. “There was also text on the bottom of the mural, but it had been smashed and discarded in a pile of rubble in the corner of this room. Most of it was illegible, but there was a portion that could be transted. It read,'meeting the controller’ or, more directly transted, ‘greeting the one who controls’.”

  He paused for a second, watching Interface’s reactions, then continued. “The really interesting part is the wording and sentence structure. During this period of time, proper names and titles like ‘Vilge Elder’ or ‘King’ used a different set of lettering, indicating a capitalization of the word. Locations and names of pces also had this capitalization. But in the mural fragment, the word ‘controller’ is not capitalized, indicating it might have been referring to an actual function, more of a type of job than a title. So the question is, who would be so prominent that a meeting with them would call for recording it in stone, but not a king, or anyone with some sort of official title?”

  De’noke let his question hang in the silence while Interface digested what he told her.

  “Here’s where I’m going to diverge from hard archaeological evidence and dip into the legend and folklore of my people. It is said that at the beginning of all things, there were angels and divine beings who came down and walked among us, taught us, and elevated us in their image. The ancients called them the Andranari, meaning ‘the ones of light’ or ‘enlightened ones’ depending on who’s transtion you’re relying on. It was my contention that this mural and other lesser artifacts referred to these people.” De’noke’s demeanor dimmed slightly, then continued. “I wasn’t able to produce any real evidence for the link, other than folklore and conjecture, and as a result, I was politely ughed out of ‘serious’ academic circles for my ‘quackery’. But the question remains, who was important enough to be cast in stone?”

  Interface set aside his st question, not knowing how to respond, and thought about everything else he had just told her. Then she asked, “So you were randomly reading my mind, just at the time I was thinking about this?" her tone was soft but wary.

  “To be fair, you were practically screaming it, psychically. Just about anyone who had any ability would have heard it. And you were staring directly at me, almost forcing the image into my mind.” Then he added quickly, “Not that I mind, that moment of contact led directly to this conversation. You can scream at me anytime you want," he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

  Interface smiled and rexed. “I haven’t dealt with people in a very long time, and I am still relearning that I shouldn’t be yelling into peoples faces," she said, pying to the jest. “To be completely honest, I don’t know why I reacted like that seeing you.” Then she stopped speaking for a moment, seemed to come to a decision, then stared intently at De’noke.

  He was suddenly unnerved by her penetrating gaze, as if she were peeling back the yers of his being, judging his very core. The moment passed, and her gaze softened.

  “I’m sorry to make you uncomfortable, but I needed to make sure I could trust you," Interface said, a conciliatory look on her face. “Please don’t share what I am about to tell you," she requested.

  “May the Grove cast me out, I shall keep your secrets," he swore, his face solemn.

  Satisfied by his oath, Interface continued. “I don’t remember a lot of my past. Until recently, I was slowly withering away, my spark almost sputtered out. My family saved me, and I’m growing stronger, but most of my memory is still locked away. Something about you triggered that memory I ‘shouted’ at you, though I couldn’t tell you what.” She looked unsure and fidgeted with her hands, worried about the things she didn’t know or couldn’t remember.

  De’noke reached over and pced one hand gently over Interface’s, giving her a reassuring smile.

  “I was marooned, separated from my kind, for a very long time, so long, in fact, that I don’t see any traces of where they may have gone or what might have happened to them. You’ve given me the first real lead I can chase to find some answers.”

  She paused, thinking for a moment. “I’m gd you found me and shared all this. I don’t know how it’s all connected, but it feels like there’s something to this. Something we really need to figure out.”

  De’noke paused, “We? Are you including me in this ‘we’?”

  “Of course," Interface said without hesitation. “Do you know any other experts on ancient Toparian History?” She said with a smile. “I expect we still have a lot to talk about, how about a drink before we go?” She offered.

  “I appreciate the offer, but we Toparians do not drink alcohol, it disagrees with us." he shook his head with a sad smile.

  “How about tea? I know they have some in the kitchen. A nice herbal blend, very soothing," Interface countered.

  De’noke smiled at her persistence. “A cup of hot tea sounds lovely.” Then he thought for a second. “I thought this section was closed?" he asked.

  “Like I said, it’s fine. I know someone who works here," Interface said, smoothing out her turtleneck sweater.

  Not more than thirty seconds ter, a waitress arrived at their table carrying two cups of hot tea. She pced one in front of De’noke and one in front of Interface. De’noke looked over to the waitress and then looked up to see her silver complexion. Sudden recognition and confusion registered on his face.

  Both Interfaces wore an expression of pyful mirth, giggling at De’noke’s confusion. The seated Interface said, “I’ll expin everything over tea," she said with a smile. Then, the Interface, dressed as a waitress, gave him a peck on the cheek and said, “The tea is on the house.” Then she turned and left the seated Interface to help with his confusion.

  Interface passed the ‘section closed’ sign as De’noke finally found the words to express his confusion. She left him there with her other instantiation and walked to the bar with her empty tray.

  “Who’s that in the closed section?” the blue-haired Trixie asked, leaning on the bar with both elbows, her chin in her hands.

  “A couple of friends who needed a quiet pce to talk. They’ll be done before we close up," Interface said, looking up at the clock on the wall behind the bar. “Any pns for after work? Are you seeing your ‘mystery couple’ again?

  Trixie’s eyes immediately lit up. “You mean ‘Wonder Couple’. Holy Cow are those two voracious!” She said with a devilish smile. “Last night, they were riding me like a rented mule. I must have cum a dozen times!” A dreamy expression crossed her face. “ And yes, you better believe I have another date with them tonight. They promised me at least as many if not more!”

  Interface shared a good-humored chuckle with the blue-haired girl as they proceeded to finish cleaning up for the night. About fifteen minutes before they officially closed, she watched De’noke escort her other self out, and when he gnced over at the bar, she gave him a knowing wink. He smiled confusedly, then disappeared with his turtlenecked companion into the Main Concourse.

  Interface smiled as the two left, then returned to her duties.

  ****

  “This really has been an unexpectedly fruitful night," De’noke said, suppressing a yawn. But I’m afraid I am not much of a night owl. Can I see you to your cabin?" he offered.

  That’s sweet, but I’m staying aboard my ship in one of the hangars; I’ll be fine. If you would like, you can catch up with me tomorrow at the bookstore on the Concourse," Interface said, patting one of his rge hands.

  “Then I will see you tomorrow, Interface. Goodnight," De’noke said, then departed for the lifts that would bring him to his cabin.

  “See you Tomorrow!” Interface said, waving cheerfully, then made her way to the tram that would take her to the hangars.

  Interface hummed a happy tune to herself as she entered the maintenance bay, heading to the Nestia. As she walked up the short set of stairs, the airlock door melted open, and once inside, it closed behind her.

  At the far side of the bay, appearing to work on one of the maintenance pods, a man dressed in a uniform jumpsuit of the maintenance squad set down his tools and then exited the bay to the tram entrance. As he rode it back towards the passenger cabin section of the ferry, he spoke softly into a discrete comm unit, “Confirmed. Target acquired.”

  ****

  “All right, settle down. We’re starting the briefing," Cy Compaan barked loudly over the chatter of his assembled teams, all packed tightly in the small cabin he had been using as the command post.

  Several images were projected on the wall behind him, taken from discrete cameras pced around the ferry.

  “These are the marks. Our initial information was incorrect, there are five, not four. These two,” Compaan said, pointing at images of two silver girls, one wearing a waitress uniform and one wearing a turtleneck sweater and skirt, “must be twins. They have both taken up positions on the hospitality crew. The waitress’s name is Inta, though we haven’t confirmed her sister’s name yet. Of the five on board the target, these two are the only ones have regur schedules that take them off the ship.”

  Compaan pressed a button on the remote in his hand, and the projected images changed.

  “Though not exactly regur, these four do seem to head off for breakfast in the morning while ‘turtleneck’ heads off for her shift." he paused to make sure everyone was paying attention. “This will be our window of opportunity. When the ferry is at a port of call, passengers are not allowed in the maintenance bay. Oh and by the way nice work finding them, Carl," Compaan said, giving the man recognition.

  “As I was saying, the maintenance bay will be off limits, and if they stick to their usual schedule then they won't be able to get back anywhere near the ship.”

  “And if they stay in their ship during the port of call?” A voice in the back of the crowded cabin called out?

  Compaan smiled wickedly, showing his crooked teeth. “That would be extremely unfortunate for them.” Dark chuckles erupted from the crowd.

  “Two teams, a breach and a hijack, will be in position when the maintenance begins repair operations at the start of docking operations. We’ve identified the call stations for security to neutralize, so the teams will have five minutes to execute and exfil. A pickup cruiser will jump in system, take on the captured target, and jump out. The entire operation should take ten minutes. The cruiser will signal when it has left the system with the target, then the rest of us will slip quietly off the ferry and make our way to rendezvous with the cruiser.”

  Compaan paused, evaluating the team assembled in front of him. “You bunch are the best at what you do. I expect nothing less than the fwless execution you have given me, time and again. We have six days until the next port of call, the st before Centrailia. Take tonight to rex and unwind, but then we all need to be ready at a moment’s notice, in case an unexpected opportunity arises. You all know your jobs. Dismissed.”

  The assembled team disbursed, heading discretely off to their individual cabins. After a short while, Compaan was alone again in the command room cabin. He pulled a decanter of whiskey from a cabinet, dropped two ice cubes into a gss, and then poured himself a much-needed drink.

  Dropping into a chair haphazardly situated in the room, he sipped his drink and thought to himself, “They were lucky the st time, but their luck is about to run out.”