Sean Woods

Project Gilgamesh

© Sean Woods

This book is copyrighted by Sean Woods. All rights reserved.

(Revision 2021-09-08)

Sean Woods

9807 Traveller St.

Manassas, VA 20110

USA

www.etoyoc.com

This book is dedicated to the giants whose shoulders I stand upon, the people in my life I lean on, and the readers I will stumble upon.

Chapter 1

The Quin

Emily was jogging at about 2 meters per second. She mused that the station was moving at 47 meters per second to keep her feet on the deck. The station itself whipped around the asteroid Psyche at 90 meters per second. Psyche, in turn, rotated around the Sun at a speed so large that even her mind gave up on making sense of it.

Emily stopped to catch her breath and clear her head. A polished section of bulkhead reflected her image. She straightened her jogging outfit. She tucked her pointy ears behind the sweat band that she used to try to hide them. She retied her red hair back with a scrunchie. She wiped the sweat from her freckled cheeks.

Lost in thought, she had lost track of where she was in the world. Well, space station. Her eye caught a damage control plaque. Like every location on the station, this room was labeled with all of the key information responders would need to know. Including the compartment number. She was in compartment 215-240-0700.

She was one level below the metro level, in the center of the station's length, and halfway along its circumference. More specifically, a scenic jogging path cut through a fruit orchard.

The air was full of complex smells. There was an aroma of fruit flower blossoms. There was a peaty stench of mulch and manure. There was also the faint vapors of paint and rubber and machinery. But two scents rose above all of the others. Roasted coffee and baked pie.

The operators of the orchard had started off with a little fruit stand next to the scenic trail. Over time they added freshly baked pies to their offerings. When it was clear that most of the traffic on the trail were people out for early morning exercise, they added breakfast pastries, and coffee.

What an hour or so of running couldn't do to clear Emily's mind, the contemplation of a decadent helping of empty calories and stimulants did. She approached the order counter like a moth to a flame.

The little cafe was right off the scenic path. There were no walls to speak of, or a door. Just a set of outdoor tables, a counter, a display case, and a tiny little shack with the few things that needed to be kept out of the rain. It was also positioned strategically nearby the municipal restroom facilities.

Emily waited a moment as the wrinkled old woman behind the counter pulled a stack of tiny peach pies out of the oven. The elderly lady wore an apron and a work shirt for Yoder Family Orchards. Her pants were clearly broken in, but not in disrepair. Her first name was embroidered into the breast of the apron: Cathy.

Cathy muttered without so much as looking up from her work, "What do you want?"

Emily said, "My usual."

Cathy said, "So strange that a girl your age takes espresso straight. When I was your age I took mine dolled up with chocolate and artificial sweetener."

Emily shrugged, "What can I say? I was born with sophisticated tastes."

Over the gurgles of the machine the old woman carried on their conversation, "How are things with that nice young fellow you were talking about?"

Emily winced, "Oh. Yah. Him. I broke it off."

The gurgling stopped. Two plates flew from the top of a stack, and onto the counter. Two pies levitated onto two plates. A sign on the counter flipped itself, changing "Sorry, we are Open" to "Hold Your Horses, Be right back."

Cathy walked perfunctorily to an empty table, and the plates and coffee seem to follow her like a pack of lost puppies. As Emily sat down, her espresso and pie slid in front of her.

Cathy spoke, "Honey, look. Speaking from experience, I don't think men are ever happy with the idea of a woman who has a full time occupation that is not them."

Emily broke down into tears, "I don't get it. He found me interesting at first because I was doing all this research. But all he wanted was for me to stop doing research and shack up and have his kids. How did you manage a relationship and a career?"

Cathy sighed, "Who says that I did?"

Emily was confused, "But I've seen your kids. Or at least Jebediah. He was a working here last summer."

Cathy gave Emily a devious conspiratory glance, "But you've never seen any of their fathers."

Cathy stressed the plural in fathers. Emily looked up confused for a second. And then a glint of realization came over her face, "Oh…"

Cathy simply looked back smug.

Emily decided to change the subject. She noticed a poster on an easel. It was very busy, with flashy graphics, and dense, dense text. She pointed it out, "That's new. Branching out into advertising?"

Cathy shrugged, "Well not really. More of a favor to my Cousin, who is doing a favor for his Captain. They are trying too hard, if you ask me. And I should know a thing or two about marketing."

Emily read the poster a little more closely. It was recruiting for a deep space platform called Paul Cézanne. The add listed openings for just about every speciality. Prior service. No service. It finished with the twin slogans:

Experienced Mages looking for a change of pace.

Bright young adventurers looking to get into space.

Emily chuckled, "I see what you mean. They would have done better with several different posters targeting several different audiences. But seriously, how can a ship be having so much trouble recruiting they have to run an advertising campaign? That just smacks of awful management. If they have to tell me it's a great deal, that's the first tip off it's a rip off."

Cathy moaned, "I said the same thing. Say, you have a pretty decent head on your shoulders. I'm embarrassed to ask after all these years. But what business are you in, again?"

Emily, "Boondoggles. I'm a research assistant at the Academy."

Cathy, "You have been coming here for years. I'm shocked you aren't a Mage by now."

Emily, "It's not for lack of trying. I am actually a Mistress of Cosmology. But there aren't any openings in the field, so I research and teach."

Cathy, "Those that can do. Those that can't teach. But, deary, you sound so smart. How could you end up in a field with no job prospects?"

Emily, "Oh when I started at the academy, I wanted to be a starship captain. But a background check turned up that the parents I never had were both veterans who died in action."

Cathy, "Well why did that stop you?"

Emily muttered, "Somewhere is a regulation that forbids and orphan whose parents were both lost in the line of duty from serving in front line units. Some kind of genetic preservation of heroic genes. It's moronic."

Cathy asked, "So why couldn't you work on a civilian ship?"

Emily, "Civis don't want to pay to train their officers. The Merchant Spatial and all of the major shipping companies hire ex-Spacey officers."

Cathy, "So why cosmology?"

Emily sighed, "It's the most elite speciality the Academy offers. You see, officers on ships are basically two types. Line officers, who boss people around, and specialists. Specialists only ever get promoted if their field is in demand. And I just assumed the field that was the hardest study would be the most in demand."

Cathy, "That makes sense. So why aren't you out in the fleet?"

Emily sipped her espresso, "Automation. By the time I finished all of the coursework, the role of ship's Cosmogatoyr was in the process of being automated. Vessels moving around the belt or the core planets are guided now by space traffic control. I am competing for the remaining jobs with people who have decades more experience, and families to feed."

Cathy, "Why not just pick something else to do?"

Emily, "Hope. Sooner or later all of the experts in the field are going to retire or die off. And there is nobody in the pipeline to replace them. I have a scholarship that pays the bills in the meantime."

Cathy sipped her espresso and spoke, "They really just pay you to sit around and wait around for people to retire?"

Emily sipped, and shrugged, "Actually, yes. The only stipulation is that I have to keep furthering my education. So when I'm not teaching cosmology, I'm studying up on cybernetics. Worst case, I can get a job automating out of existence somebody else's job."

As Emily said those words, she realized that a platoon of quins was working the orchard behind Cathy's cafe.

Quins are a form of android. They are designed to mimic the human form, and approximate human strength and dexterity. In outward appearance they resemble a crash test dummy, or a display mannequin. Over time "mannequin" was simply shortened to "quin" in common language.

Cathy quipped, "Well sometimes automation works to your benefit. Can you imagine a woman my age working the fields like that?"

Emily asked, again seemingly confused, "But… wait. I thought… your kids…?"

Cathy threw up her arms, "Flown off. They all had different dreams. Ashley is a teacher. Caleb is still in the service. Jeb works for the city. But he still comes by from time to time to help fix the droids."

Some of the quins moved from pot to pot, rotating the trees slightly to counter the twist that would normally occur from the Coriolis forces acting on the branches. Other quins plucked the fruit that was the proper ripeness for market. Still others moved from from pot to pot, pulling any weeds. Their movement was so human-like it was creepy.

As one Quin tried to lift a pot, the cumulative stress of its lot in life finally caught up with it. The android's shoulder joint failed catastrophically with a snap. The pot it was lifting tipped over, and collapsed with a crash. The tree it contained flopped over, knocking down the next tree in line. That tree knocked down the next tree next to it. The deck was covered in fallen trees, broken pottery, spilled soil, and smashed fruit.

In the din a cat hissed, and darted under a table to safety.

Without batting an eyelash (not that quins have eyelashes) the quin continued on its appointed task. It sauntered over to the next pot, and struggled to lift it with its one remaining arm. The pot wobbled precariously, as fruit started raining down on the deck.

Cathy yelled, "O for the love of," Catching the sound of the crashing pots behind her. Cathy scrambled (as much as an old woman can scramble) away from behind the table, knocking over her chair in the process. She walked briskly to a control station a few tens of meters away. She furiously worked a set of controls to no avail, "Damn it. You had one job!"

Emily knocked back her shot of coffee, and sprang to the Cathy's side. She spoke cautiously, "Is everything ok?"

Cathy yelled, "It's not listening to the stop order. It's going to knock the entire orchard over if we don't stop it."

Emily ran to the quin. Each had an emergency stop button on the back of their skull, and on the chest. But they were under a plexisteel cover, to prevent them from accidentally being activated during normal work activities.

The quin was 30 centimeters taller than Emily, and had at least 50 kilograms more mass. The droid wasn't resisting her efforts to access the emergency stop button. However, its struggle to lift the pot was making accessing the button impossible. She could get the cover open, but its movements would slam it shut again. Adding to the danger was the exposed splintered wood, shards of optical fiber, and torn metal actuator cable.

Emily said aloud, "Say! Could you just hold still a minute?"

The android immediately stopped. Cathy's jaw dropped.

Dumbfounded, Cathy worked a series of inputs on the control panel, "Nope. Deaf as a post. It is not responding to a single command. Is that a trick they teach you in cybernetics?"

Emily shrugged, "Um, not actually."

Emily directed her attention to the android. What else could she tell the droid to do? She though for a moment and said, "Follow me."

She walked in a straight line for about 30 meters. The quin followed her, staying about 3 meters behind.

Cathy motioned for Emily to follow, "If you can get him to follow you, could you be a dear and lead him over to my repair shed."

Emily nodded. The three wandered a hundred meters or so to a bulkhead at the edge of the farm. The bulkhead was painted with a special scheme that let it appear as if an infinite forest was stretching off into the horizon. Painted into part of the design was a barn. The Old woman grabbed a handle on the painting, and revealed a dark chamber.

Inside the chamber were a dozen or so charging stations for quins, as well as an artificer's workbench. One quin was in the process of replacing the knee on another. It seemed to finish as Cathy entered the room. The quin being serviced performed some sort of calibration check, and then struck back out into the fields.

The artificer quin scanned the quin with the broken shoulder with some sort of hand-held sensors. Next it plugged a series of cables into the one-armed quin's skull. The artificer directed Cathy's attention to a technical readout on a console nearby.

The old woman read the scrawl of text, and muttered to herself as she did so. She finally groaned as she looked up, "Well the bad news is that this unit is a total loss. The good news is, that shoulder repair was probably going to cost me more than a new one."

Emily looked confused, "Wait. What can't be repaired?"

Cathy poked the skull on the android, "Somehow the control transceiver was damaged in the accident. Repairing it involves opening up the quin's brain case. And that is, needless to say, highly illegal."

Emily nodded, "Right."

Cathy, "Oh I suppose I'll have to take the day off to run this damn thing to the recycling center. Not to mention reprogram the other ones to clean up that mess outside. Of course, it's right next to the damn cafe. Couldn't be on the back 40…no…"

Emily, "I tell you what. I'm out for a walk anyway. It seems to be following me. I could take it down to the center for you. It sounds like you have enough to do."

Cathy, "For being such a dear, how about I just sell it to you. One credit."

Emily shook her head, "Oh now. The scrap value of this thing has to be a fortune. I couldn't."

Cathy, "Oh I think you saved me more than that by keeping it from knocking over any more trees. Take it."

Cathy walked over to filing cabinet. She fished for a document, and walked back. She scrawled her signature in one box, and flipped the document around, "Here is the title for our little friend. I've marked that I have sold it to you for one credit. Though, don't forget to pay the transfer tax. You'll need this form anyway when you turn it in for scrap. I just need your signature here…"

Emily stuck out her thumb, expecting Cathy to pull out a transaction recorder. Cathy shook her head, "No, no. I just have to put a sale price on here. Whatever you can scavenge from it is yours."￼

Emily and the android walked towards the recycling center. As they walked, Emily looked again at the title she held in her hand. She owned a quin. Yes, it was a malfunctioning quin. It needed a lot of repairs. But she owned it. At least for a few minutes. This happy thought of actually owning something nice cycled through her head.

At last they were rounding the last corner towards the TASTE® Recycling Center. She reached the counter with the droid. The clerk looked at Emily, looked at the slip of paper, and looked at the droid, "500 reward points."

Emily gasped, "Reward points? I could get a few hundred credits just by scavenging this thing for spare parts."

The clerk handed her back the slip of paper, "Well, you can tell Grandma Yoder that 500 reward points is the best she is ever going to get. These system 7's are so out of date that the only reason we don't charge a disposal fee is that EHI really wants to get these old models off the street. That thing is going to cost you a few hundred credits to get working again."

Emily muttered, "On second thought, I think I'll take it home with me. Lord knows I have all of the other trinkets you guys offer as rewards."

The clerk leered from behind the counter, "But hey, there is that new trading card block coming out next month. I'm pretty sure 500 reward points would get you the whole set."

Emily looked him straight in the eye, "More like a chance to get the entire set. And more like me opening up 100 packs and still not managing to get any of the good cards. Skip it, if I can get him working, great. If not, he makes a good conversation piece."￼

As Emily was leaving the recycling center with quin in hand, she found a cat blocking her path.

Cats are not an uncommon sight around the station. They are usually mongrel breeds that are kept on board to cut down on rodents and birds that infest the station. You can tell a community cat from the strays by its distinctive COMMUNITY VERMIN CONTROL collar.

This cat had a much more elegant collar. The collar was inlayed with jewels and complex decoration. The cat's fur was as exquisite as the collar. It was a fancy breed. It resembled a tiny snow leopard. It carried itself like an aloof princess.

As soon as Emily locked eyes with the cat, she somehow knew something. It needed her to follow. She… She needed Emily to follow. As this information entered into Emily's mind, the cat broke eye contact and started moving in a deliberate direction toward the marketplace.

The cat led Emily to an alleyway. In the back of the alley was small repair shop. On the door was a sign indicating the establishment was an EHI Certified Repair Center. Emily struggled to find a name for the place, anywhere. Instead the only markings shilled it as an independent repair center for Etoyoc Heavy Industries (and subsidiaries) appliances and androids.

As Emily led the damaged quin through the door, a little bell rang in the ceiling. A holo-display of the latest quin series was projecting in the center of the room. The walls were covered with random assortments of spare parts, pre-made alchemical mixtures, and a few advertisements for new products that could be special ordered.

One prominent sign in the center of what looked like a check-out counter had three words in a triangle:

FAST        CHEAP

RIGHT

(Pick two)

Emily saw a bell on the counter with another sign RING FOR SERVICE. The cat leapt on the counter, and began batting the bell ferociously.

A tired voice carried itself in from behind a curtain, "Oh for love of chaos. What have you dragged into my office this time…"

A middle aged man stepped through the curtain. He had a salt and pepper goatee. A golden framed monocle clung to his left eye. He wore a golf shirt that had the name ISHMAEL embroidered on his breast, with INDEPENDENT OPERATOR embroidered in smaller letters underneath.

The cat meowed and growled and hissed at the man. The man replied, "Oh come now my Bastet. I don't think the quin was trying to hurt you. Besides, even you had been crushed by a tree, you still have how may lives?"

The cat stood fixed with a crossed expression across her body. She turned away from Ishmael. Her tail twitched violently. After a moment of establishing exactly how she felt, she dove off the counter and onto a pillow in the corner. Where she proceeded to groom herself, and ignore everything else.

Ishmael sighed, and directed his attention to the newcomers in the room, "Ah. I see you have a discerning taste in home automation. I believe this is, yes, a system 7. It looks to me like you need a shoulder assembly, a new right arm."

The cat interrupted her grooming, and let out a groaning meow. She set back to ignoring the world. Ishmael turned and listened to the cat, before turning back to Emily. "Ah and a charging module."

Emily was taken aback, "Um… Hi…?"

The salesmen went in for a firm handshake, "Call me Ishmael."

Emily caught her train of thought, "Well the arm damage is obvious, but how did you know I would need a charging module?"

Ismael chuckled as he pulled a wand from his work shirt. He talked as the worked over the quin with the wand, "Call it a lucky guess. It looks like this guy is a mix and match of whatever the previous owner could find. Thats a pair of XJ legs. That arm is some kind of indigenous design. Actually, the only original part on this thing is the head."

Emily winced, "So… ballpark… how much to get him back up and running?"

Ishmael scratched his goatee, "Hmmm. I guess that would depend on what you wanted to make him into. Droids are a bit of a black hole where credits disappear. Instead of giving me a scope of work, how about we start with an actual budget."

Emily blurted, "500 credits."

Ishmeal muttered to himself, "Hmm. 500 credits. I suppose we could…Bastet, Dear. Could you check the back to see what we have for System 7's?"

The cat ignored him.

Ishmael pleaded, "Well fine, I suppose that if we don't have a customer we'll have to switch to dry food for a while."

The cat stretched on her pillow. She stepped daintily onto the floor, and shook herself from nose to tail. She trotted under the curtain. After a minute or so, she called with an excited meow. Ishmael stepped through the curtain, and after a minute of so cried out, "Oh that's perfect!"

A minute or so after that, Ishmael emerged from behind the curtain with a crate on a hand truck. Ishmael blew off a thick layer of dust. The crate had the usual markings for an EHI product, as well as some safety markings about the mass of the contents. Stenciled into the front was the label EHI - SYSTEM 7 - HOME EDITION BUNDLE.

Ishmael pulled a clipboard from the top of the crate. He then started to explain, "Why I seem to have had this thing sitting on the back room for a while. My inventory manifest says that it originally retailed for $499."

Emily piped up, "I am a research student at the academy!"

Ishmael asked, "Oh. What department?"

Emily replied with a proud smile on her face, "Cybernetics and Cosmology."

Ishmael flipped a sheet on the clipboard, "Well, isn't that handy. That knocks the price to $399. We'll just ignore 20 years of inflation. This includes everything but the head unit. Which you happen to have."

Ishmael tapped the tip of the wand, and when he removed his fingers it was replaced with a pen. He started marking off on the clipboard as he read, "So that's a modular chassis, general purpose legs, an assortment of tool arms, charger module, and manuals. I'll throw in assembly and disposal of the old parts for 101 credits, and don't worry about the taxes. This is an educational sale. $500 even."

Emily asked excitedly, "Wow. That's… awesome. When can you have it ready?"

Ishmael put down the clipboard, "Well all of this is well and good. If you want to put it out on display. But I picked up that the control transceiver was not functioning on this unit. It's going to be a paperweight."

Emily shook her head, "Not quite. Quincy dear, can you walk across the room for this gentleman?"

The quin bowed, slightly, and then did exactly what Emily asked.

Ishmael was astonished, "Are you Technosensitive by any chance?"

Emily, confused, replied, "Come again?"

Ishmael reiterated, "Technosensitive. Really it should be called Technopathic, but that sounds more like a psychological diagnoses than an ability. You seem to have a sympathy for living computers. Pretty rare. Only seen it a couple of times."

Emily, "You've seen this before? Dear God I've endured years of therapy because people though that I was crazy!"

Ishmael continued, "I have to admit it is surprising to see in someone your age. Usually it is found in freakishly experienced programmers. I remember one old mage. They used to bring her in as keynote speaker at the EHI repair conferences. Grace somebody or other. She died about 10 years ago. Say, you aren't like her granddaughter or anything, are you?"

Emily shrugged, "No idea. I'm an orphan. My parent's identities are shielded by some really strange privacy law. Though I think my mom was from Psyche, because the embassy keeps sending me stuff."

Ishmael looked Emily up and down, as if seeing her for the first time again. He noted her short stature and pointed ears, "Ah. That makes so much sense now. I've never seen your type outside of Krasnovia."

Emily was flabbergasted, "Wait… one of what?"

The salesman screwed his eyes, as if trying to sort out exactly what she knew or didn't know. Finally he blurted out, disguised as a sneeze, "zapomnij coś powiedziałem"

Emily's mind was a fog for a moment. Finally she shook her head, surprised. She said, "Gesundheight?"

Ishmael state, matter of factly, "Sorry about that. I'll have it ready by Friday. Does Friday work for you, or should it hold it over the weekend? Actually forget that… Friday early as I can. We need someone to keep an eye on you…"

Emily stammered, "Sure… Friday is good. I'll stop by after lunch."

He pressed the pen/wand into Emily's hands, as well a the clipboard, "Sign here."

Emily signed on the clipboard. She felt a strange twinge from the wand.

The salesman took out a business card, "If you need to get in touch with me before then, just call. And don't worry about getting the credits together right now. We'll work out payment later."

Emily took the card. It was blank on the front. She flipped it over, it was blank on the back. She flipped it a third time and the following text appeared:

ISHMAEL

INDEPENDENT OPERATOR

Emily looked up and started to speak, "Wait, there is no phone number or email on this card."

But as she looked up, she discovered she was in an alleyway. The sales office, the salesperson, the cat, and her "new" android were gone.

She flipped the card over once more, and it read:

BE SEEING YOU!

Date: 53365 @ 1300,

Location 205-075-0120

Emily looked at the entrance of the alleyway. According to the damage control plaque, this was compartment 205-075-0120.

Chapter 2

Ms. Cosmo

Emily was finishing up a lecture on Cosmology. At this point in the term, the finals were over. Most of her students had checked out mentally if not physically for the upcoming Retniw holiday. Emily's lecture today was on the impact of history on the art of Cosmogation.

She had spent some long hours putting together a "quick" retelling of the 6 week war on the classroom's orrery. Fortunately those hours were spend years ago on a classroom project when she herself was taking the course. Otherwise it was a handy thing to have on hand to trot out when she didn't feel very much like preparing a lesson for students who didn't feel very much like learning.

Her classroom was inside of a dome. A number of display technologies allowed her to project information onto the dome. She could show holographic quality images of astronomical bodies. She could show vessels in flight. She could show trajectories. And she could also shift the little universe in time to see events present and future. Of course, the computer models start getting a bit fuzzy the further in the past and future one goes.

As fleets of ships moved around the simulated solar system, Emily showed how the science of Cosmogation factored into every decision made in the battle. She had just gotten to the point in the program where the Krasnovian fleet was smashed by the orbital defense of Psyche.

Emily highlighted the area on the orrery, and added her own commentary, "And here you can see perhaps the most tangible impact of history on modern Cosmogation. This battle is what formed the debris field that is a hazard to commerce to this very day."

Emily flipped a control that fast forwarded the trajectories of the broken hulks to catch them up to the modern day. If you were quick enough, you could even see the various attempts through the years to salvage the wrecks and maintain a shipping lane.

Emily brought the lights up. Partly to keep the students from falling asleep. Mainly to also keep them from making out.

Emily spoke up, "So before I shift to the treaty of Reykjavik, and where our modern boarders originate from, does anyone have a questions?"

A hand shot up immediately and energetically. Emily tried not to grimace. The hand was attached to a brown-nosing know-it-all. It really didn't matter the subject, he seemed to have reason to cast doubt on the telling of events, "Mistress. Mistress. Why would the Krasnovians just blunder into a trap like that?"

Emily took a deep breath and set the orrery back to the time period in question, "The Krasnovian fleet had no other choice than a perfect minimum time course from Luna to Psyche. With invasion troops on board, time was at a premium. A less direct course would have required taking on more supplies. And the ships were already operating at the edge of their design capacity."

Emily called up general arrangements drawings for the class of invasion ship used in the battle. She also pulled up a set of calculations for their performance.

The student pointed out, "Mistress, is that data sheet marked as classified?"

Emily replied, "Because Krasnovia still doesn't know how much we know now, or knew then, about how all of their ships perform. And if they ever found out, they would investigate how we found out, and we would lose that intelligence source."

The student was puzzled, "But… why are you telling us then?"

Emily raised the house lights, "Because each and every one of you has been screened by ISTO intelligence before you were allowed to enroll in the class… and who are you?"

Emily noticed three new faces in the back ring of seats. One she recognized as the Commandant of the Academy. They other two were in dress uniform, but for the Merchant Spatial. A dark skinned man had the rank of Commodore. The woman next to him was as tall as he, and looked vaguely Mediterranean in descent. She wore the rank of a Captain.

The Commandant spoke up, "Apologies, Mistress. These are my guests for today, I thought they would enjoy your presentation. And, no worries, the are cleared."

All of the cadets in the classroom immediately straightened up at the sound of the Commandant's voice. One couple had the girl's lipstick comically smeared all over both if their faces.

The Commodore spoke up, "Please, continue, Mistress. I'll have a few questions of my own!"

Emily continued, "So, the ultimate answer to your question is that Krasnovia had no idea we had such good data about their vessel's performance and load out. They were figuring that surprise and the fog of war to provide an advantage. Keep in mind, these invasion craft were brand new off the slipways. Depending who which expert you interview, ISTO had better performance figures than Krasnovia's own planners. At the time the decisions were made, it wasn't an obvious trap."

Emily looked around the room, the Commandant's presence was causing everyone but the brown noser to keep mum, lest they ask something stupid. And Emily didn't want the brown noser to dominate the conversation (again.)

Emily directed her attention to the guests in the back, "You said you had a question, Commodore?"

He nodded, "As you are covering the treaty of Reykjavik, how do you think a decision by the International Astronomical Union to classify Ceres and Pluto as minor planets would effect territorial disputes moving forward?"

The tall woman in the Captain's uniform gave the Commodore a sharp elbow in his ribs. The Commodore added, "I'll take my answer after class."

Emily gave him the stern stare she reserved for misbehaving students. There is an unwritten rule in education, guests aren't supposed to stump the professor. But despite this infraction against decorum, Emily did incorporate answered to the question into her prepared material.

Emily finished a set of visuals showing the boundaries between the core system, the asteroid belt, Krasnovia's holding on the moons of the Gas Giants. She highlighted the constantly shifting corridors of innocent passage that allow ISTO vessels and Krasnovian vessels to pass through each other's territory.

She wrapped up her talk, "And don't worry, class. I'm going to cover all of that again when we get back from the holidays. This was just a great excuse to utilize the orrery for the day."

The cadets filed out of the chamber. Emily's guests moved forward from the outer rows to surround her console at the center. Emily could sense that the Commodore was really interested in the subject, so she worked feverishly to produce the answers to the questions he would undoubtedly raise and she answers others.

She quickly improvised at graphic with Ceres and Pluto highlighted. She sensed them approach, and without looking up from her controls she started to say, "The real answer to your question, Commodore, I believe it would come down to the settlement and occupation volumes of exclusivity clauses in the treaty. They cover deep space, and around bodies not covered specifically in the treaty."

The Commandant introduced her two companions, "Emily, this is Commodore Franklin Williams and Captain Candice Degrassi from the Paul Cézanne."

Emily swiveled around in her chair to face them. Ben went in for a handshake. Emily stood up from her seat to return the handshake. As she did, he said "You can call me Ben."

The Captain leaned in for a handshake as well, "And I usually go by Candy."

Emily was confused, "I sort of get Candy as short for Candice. But where do you get Ben from?"

Ben chuckled to himself as he answered, "Well my first posting already had a Frank. Frank Poole. And the C.O. decided that all my stories about my hometown of Franklin made me a fan of Benjamin. And it's stuck with me my entire career."

Emily was shocked, "Frank… Poole? As in the Discovery?"

Ben nodded, solemnly, "I was serving on Endeavor when it happened. I'd be surprised someone your age knows so much about that. But I just saw your history lesson. Now refresh my memory, how does that clause work in the treaty?"

Emily produced a graphic of the settlement patterns on Ceres, "The basic concept is a function in the treaty's math for a volume of exclusivity around every inhabited settlement or vessel. The more people, the bigger the volume. ISTO would probably argue that all of their habitats combined would form an exclusion volume large enough to cover the entire planetoid."

Emily pressed a few buttons. Instead of Ceres being enveloped in a blue field of ISTO control, the surface was marked with a set of smaller spheres. The spheres didn't cover much land, because most of the volume was reaching into space. "Krasnovia, on the other hand, would argue that each settlement would have its own independent exclusion zone. And they would argue the volume of exclusions would be distributed like this. They would argue that any ares not excluded were fair game for them to settle."

Emily pressed a few more buttons, "However in the end the rules lawyers would probably hammer out a compromise like so. The treaty just specifies the function for volume. It doesn't specify a shape. So with the right geometry you could use each volume for each settlement to define a shell that reaches to the borders of the settlements around them. Even if the shell is a millimeter thick, it's still a legal barrier that Krasnovia won't be able to cross."

Candy remarked, "Wow. Did you just come up with that? On the fly?"

Emily took a polite bow.

 Ben asked, "And what of Pluto?"

Emily shrugged, "I'm assuming you are speaking hypothetically, because nobody has the technology right now to settle Pluto. At least the surface. Anything you would park there would cause the crust to evaporate. And pretty violently."

The Commodore spoke up, "And what about a vessel in orbit?"

Emily thought for a moment, "I know the Dali is scheduled for a mission out there. But that ship is highly automated. It only has about 750 people on board. The navigation safety exclusion zone of 500 meters would be bigger than the settlement exclusion volume."

The Commodore replied, with a glint in his eye, "Let's say… you have a Van Gogh class with about 5000 people on board. And a transient population of up to 25,000. Far argument's sake, the Paul Cézanne."

Emily looked him up and down, "Now you are really getting hypothetical. I mean, hell, that thing would take a least a year to get on station. And then it would have to turn around and come right back. Assuming you can operate the engines that long between overhauls. And my god, you'd need a comet's worth of propellent. Don't get me wrong, I like a good challenge. But at this point we are getting silly."

Ben slapped down a copy of The Psyche Scryer. It was the daily newspaper for the stations around Psyche. As the major news source around the capitol, it tended to focus mainly on international news. The headline read: "IAU DEMOTES PLUTO TO MINOR-PLANET"

Ben continued, "It's not hypothetical anymore. ISTO was anticipating this decision. Our ship is headed for Pluto in a couple of weeks."

Candy piped in, "We were wondering if you were interested in coming along."

Emily was hesitant. She needed a few questions answered, "So… how long a contract are we talking about?"

Ben sighed. He could anticipate the reaction he was going to get, because he had seen it so many times before. He swallowed hard and replied, "Five years."

Emily did the math. She was 22 now. She would be 28 by the time she got back. She had already spent many years in the Academy and in the reserves. She was really looking forward to getting out and living after she finished her doctorate. On one hand, she really wanted to see the Solar System. On the other, where the Cézanne was headed was basically the edge of nowhere. And 5 years was a long time to spend single, and she just knew the dating pool on a deep space ship was going to be a puddle.

Emily exclaimed, "FIVE YEARS! Sheesh! Do you ask every candidate you interview 'where do you see yourself in five years?' And then say 'well, you are probably going to be in exactly the same ship?"

Ben looked like he was about to say something. But he stopped himself, and simply nodded an acknowledgment.

Emily looked at his reaction, and toned down her own reaction. She said, softly, "I appreciate you bringing this opportunity to my attention. But I don't think it would be good fit for me right now."

Emily looked at Ben and Candy. The two looked like they had prepared a massive sales pitch. They looked disappointed, to say the least. But they were hiding it behind their professionalism.

Ben had a giant packet of information in his hand. Ben looked like he was dying to give it to her.

Emily asked, "Say, how about I take a look over your information there. Can I have a little time to think about it?"

Ben shrugged, "Certainly. It's a big decision. We don't to high-pressure recruiting. And while I can't tell you when our exact launch time will be, I can say that it will be sooner than later."

Candy clarified, "And by sooner we mean 2 weeks."

Ban glared at Candy. He then continued, "Just keep that information under your hat. If you decide to join our merry crew, the Commandant can make all of the arrangements. And one way or another, I'm pretty sure we'll meet later on."

Emily politely shook Ben's hand. Candy spoke, "Hold on. I thought you looked familiar. I suddenly remembered where I saw you! Can I say, I was a super fan."

Emily groaned, "No, I'm not one of the Yisned princesses. And no, I didn't have a career if folk music. But… I have gotten to the point I can fake either of their autographs if you need it."

 Candy was taken aback, "Oh, I was talking about your Corona Girl video… From Battle school."

The Commandant shot Candy an icy stare, "We are still trying to track down who leaked that. Why would you bring that up. Emily I …"

Emily motioned for the Commandant to stop, "Actually, that's ok. I had no idea that was still so popular. I was just thanking my lucky stars that none of this year's students have seen it."

Candy looked surprised, "Wait… that wasn't a 15 minutes of fame effort? You absolutely nailed the part. How long did you have to rehearse? I was so disappointed they never finished the first season."

Emily answered, deadpan, "Rehearse what? Battle School was a secret project. They only turned it into a failed pilot for a reality show after the footage leaked."

Candy was flabbergasted, "Wait. All of those kids. They weren't actors?"

Emily slammed back, "Nope. They had us convinced we were training for a real war. I was taking the same Corona Wineson exam that they give at the Academy."

The Commandant piped, "Well not the same test, dear. We did have to redesign it after all of the publicity. It's now called the Kobiashi Maru."

Emily smirked, "And they let ant boy design it. Again."

Ben asked, "Ant boy?"

Emily replied, "Andrew Wiggen. He was considered a genius because he had a latent telepathy with insects. In particular ants. And all of his tactical planning generally involves throwing lots of bodies into suicidal charges. Yes, he wins some battles that way. But they are pyrrhic victories at best. I hate his scenarios because I feel that we owe our people in uniform a little better than conditioning them to die in an un-winnable scenario. Needless to say, he's an Admiral now, and I'm an associate professor for a class nobody wants to take."

Candy gestured up to the display, "I've been looking at your presentation again. You weren't playing that information back from recordings. You actually run the battle live?"

Emily waved her hand in a wishy-washy gesture, "It's half and half. I do feed a lot of holos into the simulator to match history. But I have the simulation improv the rest. The outcome is usually the same. Usually."

Candy asked, "When doesn't it?"

Emily shrugged, "Only when I don't allow ISTO to have a near omniscient picture of exactly what the Krasnovians were planning."

There was a solemn silence for a moment. Nobody really wanted to talk about the implications of the revelation that Emily had made.

Ben chimed in, "Say, do you mind if I give you a follow up call in a week. Just to see if you've warmed to the idea of serving on the Cézanne?"

Emily didn't want to be rude, so she answered back, "Sure."

The Commandant gathered up her guests, "Well thank you, Emily, for taking a few minutes out to talk to my friends here. Oh, and how is your presentation for the Festival coming along?"

Emily smiled, "Quincy and I have been practicing our act."

The Commandant did a double take, "Act?"

Emily's smile twisted into something devious, "Oh… let's just say we're going to have a lot of fun with it."

The Commandant, Ben, and Candy left the orrery chamber. Emily flopped the information packet down next to the console she was working at. She started the shutdown sequence for the visualization system.

As she was striking the lights, the packet caught her eye again. She considered just leaving it there. But after a moment's hesitation she picked it up, and carried it home.

Chapter 3

The Kannushi

It was the height of the Retniw festival on New Franklin. By tradition, the town square was filled with traveling performers from all around the Solar System.

ISTO liked to celebrate the diversity of its people at this time of year. New Franklin, being the capital city, held tournaments for traveling shows. Each group seemed to win a prize. And if a prize didn't exist for a particularly talented act, one was invented on the spot.

The city square was filled with hundreds of performers, and thousands of spectators. There were Musicians, human statues, sidewalk painters, street illusionists, and dancers. If you didn't find at least one of the acts entertaining and jaw dropping, you just weren't looking hard enough.

The acts took turns performing on a set of small stages spread around the square. The schedule had run a little longer than the festival had acts. The city asked the Academy if they had any tegic to show off. And rumors had started to spread around the Academy about the eccentric professor of Cosmology and her sidekick robot.

Emily walked onto the stage. The stage was a platform built about a meter off the street level. Just enough to keep the passing crowd from intruding into the performing area. It was adjacent to a municipal building which served as the "back stage" area. A line of caution tape from the front corners of the stage marked off a fire lane between the stage and the front row of the audience. The audience stood or sat on blankets in the grassy area of the park.

Emily tapped the lapel microphone, "Can everyone hear me?"

A small crowd had gathered around. Mostly Emily's coworkers from the Academy. Cathy and Ishmael were also in attendance.

Emily spotted a different crowd too. They were clustered around a man in an azure robe. He wore a ceremonial hat of some sort. He was surrounded by an entourage, and what looked like security. Emily guessed they were probably just securing a good seat for the act following hers.

Emily continued, "Well thank you all for joining me and my friend Quincy, here. Hey… wait a minute. QUINCY!"

Her android poked his head out of the door to the municipal building. Emily continued, "Oh don't be shy. Come on out."

Quincy seemed to gather his nerve, and strutted bravely through the door frame, up the stairs, and onto the center of the stage with her. The audience laughed. Emily sighed and remembered They don't know this wasn't part of the show!

Emily dictated to the audience, "I'd like to introduce my robot partner. This is Quincy. He started off life as a gardening droid. Give them a bow, Quincy."

Quincy gave them a bow.

A boy, about 11, off stage heckled, "Oh they just have it's controller off stage."

Emily kept her cool. She grabbed wireless microphone off of a stand, and walked to the edge of the stage. She called the the heckler over, "In education we love audience participation. Young man, come on over here a second."

The boy sheepishly approached.

Emily knelt down and asked, "What's your name?" She held the microphone gently in front of the boy's face.

The boy answered bravely, "Stanley! Stanley Rogers!"

Emily continued, "Just to be clear, you have never met me before?"

Stanley nodded his head, "No, Ma'am."

Emily asked, "And you aren't working with me at all?"

Stanley nodded his head, "No, Ma'am."

Emily stood up, "I just wanted to make sure. Because you basically gave away the first part of my set. Stanley here understand that Quins can only accept commands from a control tablet."

Cathy heckled, "Or a command station!"

Emily rolled her eyes, "Yes, or a command station."

Emily walked to the edge of the stage, and picked up what looked like a control tablet. She handed the tablet to Stanley, "Here you go. You were right. There is a control tablet! Why don't you read for me the serial number of the quin."

Stanley rattled off a series of numbers, "PEQ-0D-B4796F"

Emily called over to the android, "Quincy dear, can you come over here. Turn your head so Stanley can read your serial number."

Quincy walked across the stage. He knelt down, and just as Emily asked, positioned his torso so Stanley could read his serial number. Stanley read aloud, "PEQ-0D-B4796F"

Emily continued, "So thank you Stanley, you really do understand your robotics. Now punch in a command."

Stanley tried to enter something. But after a few seconds of struggle he exclaimed, "I can't! This thing is busted."

Emily held the microphone to Stanley's mouth, "Could you repeat that for the audience."

Stanley said, "I can't enter a command. It had an error code saying the control module is malfunctioning."

Emily nodded, "Quincy was like that when I found him. So all of what you are about to see are behaviors he has learned since the accident that damaged his core processor. Thank's for your help, Stanley!"

Emily took back the control modules from Stanley, and clipped the wireless microphone back into the stand. She directed the audience to Stanley. And they politely clapped. Stanley looked like he wanted to crawl under a rock.

Emily continued, "Quincy and I have developed a special little bond. We are still trying to study how it works, but we hope we can adapt this tegic to all sorts of new applications. So I have put together a few demonstrations of this link in action."

Emily took out a set of three juggling pins. She held all three pins in her left hand. She let one go in the air, at about her eye level. It hooked around and curved back to the deck. She grabbed it out of the air with her right hand. Her right hand then threw the pin in front of her, and down toward the stage. By the time her left hand reached out for that pin, the other two were swirling around her in the juggling pattern that was familiar with denizens of a rotating space station.

After a few seconds, to establish her rhythm, she began to speak, "You know, when I started this work I had to learn how to juggle so I could teach him. But I am still terrible…"

As she said that,  her left hand missed the grab on one of the pins. The pin curved back before it reached stage right, and started back across the stage. Quincy reached out and grabbed the pin in mid-air. Emily then passed the other two pins. Quincy caught them, and started his own juggling pattern.

Emily directed the audiences attention to the now juggling droid. The audience clapped and cheered. The folks who were mainly clapping were Emily's coworkers from the Academy. The man in the azure robe seemed to be paying close attention, and in fact several of his entourage were taking notes. One was looking like a typical tourist from Psyche with his eye glued to camcorder. But they were not applauding.

The audience was also growing around the edges. Some cheered. Some simply stared at the act as if they were witnessing a crime scene. Slowing down, grabbing a look, and only stopping if it looked particularly gory.

Emily pulled out another set of three pins. She started to juggle those. After she had a good rhythm she joked with the audience, "And sometimes I'm just lazy, or I just need a little help with something."

She passed the pin like she did before. Quincy caught the pin. He then incorporated the pin into a 4 pin juggling set. After one cycle, he tossed a pin to Emily. Over another cycle the pair began to juggle all 6 pins by passing them in the air.

By this point the everyone oohed and ahhed. The talky part of the show probably went over most of their heads. But seeing things move. That is something everyone could understand.

To finish the set, Quincy began taking pins out of the pattern, and tossed them to the edge of the stage. The pins landed in a perfect row, lined up exactly with the edge of the stage.

Emily and Quincy took a bow. The audience roared in applause.

Emily continued with the show, "Now all of that looks impressive. But as my friend Stanley pointed out, all of this could probably be controlled off stage, or even pre-programmed. So now I need to show you something that would be impossible to do with an off stage controller, or a pre-made program. I'm going to need some help with this, can I have a volunteer? Maybe another little kid. I like to feel like I'm taller than somebody."

A bunch of little hands flew up. Emily picked a little girl in a flower dress. She must have been about 7 or 8 years old. As she wound her way to the stage, Emily thrust a wireless microphone to her. Emily then asked, "Hello. Well thanks for helping Quincy and me. What's your name?"

The little girl answered, shyly, "Alice."

Emily then asked, "What grade are you in Alice?"

Alice replied, proudly, "I'm in second grade!"

Emily continued, "Wow, second grade. So you know your numbers and your letters and your colors by now."

Alice nodded.

As Alice nodded, Quincy started to set up a series of stools. On each stool was a sign with different numbers and letters and colors. He then stood on the opposite corner of the stage. And he covered his non-existent ears would be with his hands.

Emily instructed, "Now I'm going to turn off my microphone in a second. Alice, I need you to describe one of the signs. Quincy will bring it to you. And just so nobody else can hear, I want you to whisper your sign into my ear. Tell me the letters you want. Or the numbers. Or the colors. Doesn't matter."

Emily turned off the switch on her microphone, and turned off the switch on Alice's microphone. Alice whispered something into  Emily's ear. The two (and the audience) watched as Quincy took his hands off of his ears. He grabbed one of the signs and gently handed it to the little girl.

Emily clicked on the two microphones, "Was that the sign you described to me?"

The little girl nodded furiously, "Yes! I wanted the one with the green B!"

The audience applauded once more. Emily guided Alice to the edge of the stage, and back to her waiting family. But before they get to the edge of the stage, Quincy waved as if he wanted Emily's attention.

Emily led the little girl over to Quincy. He reached to the little girl's ear. In the blink of an eye he pulled the old "coin out of your ear" trick, and offered the one-credit coin to the little girl. Alice took the coin, excited.

Emily playfully snorted into the microphone, "Show off."

As Emily led the girl back to her parents. The little girl was bouncing with excitement. As Alice was back on the ground level, she seemed to quick check behind her ear for more coins.

Emily finished off her show, "So that is all of the prepared demonstrations that I have for you today. Do I have any time for questions?"

A stern looking man with a clipboard and a headset who was coordinating getting acts on and off the stage shook his head. He shook his head with a definitive "No."

Emily and Quincy took a bow, and Emcee came over the address system, "That was Mistress Deagan and Quincy. You can catch them around campus at the Maillardet Center for Cybernetics and Cosmology. Let's give them a big hand."

Emily and Quincy left the stage. As she walked off stage, Emily walked over to her cluster of friends.

Emily sighed, "Call a necromancer. I'm pretty sure I died up there."

Cathy spoke up, "Man, if I'd known he could do magic tricks, I'd have charged you more than a credit." She laughed.

Quincy pointed to Cathy's ear, as eagerly as he pointed to Alice's ear. Cathy, resigned, turned her head. Quincy reached in. As Quincy pulled his hand away, instead of finding a coin he lifted a middle finger. Quins have no facial expressions, but from his stance you could tell he was glaring at the old woman.

Emily looked over at Ishmael, and joked back, "Oh little did I realize the purchase price for a Quin is just a downpayment on a lifetime of parts and service."

Ishmael looked indignant. He was stroking Bastet, and did his best to ignore Emily's remark about the price of his services. Out of the blue he muttered, "Actually, you should be getting a reimbursement check. EHI's marketing division has taken over your account. Your postings on the Academy's holonet channel have drummed up so much interest in vintage System 7s there are talks of restarting production. If you aren't careful, as soon as footage from this demo hits the net, you might have a few corporate sponsors."

Emily was shocked. After moment she looked very embarrassed, "I am so sorry, Ishmael. I really had no idea. Thank you. So… how was I up there? Was it as bad as I thought it was?"

Cathy replied, "Well at least you had the Kannushi on hand to perform your last rites. But seriously dear, you handled that smart-ass kid perfectly."

Emily looked over at man in the azure robe. Up close Emily realized it was the robe of a holy man. No, wait, the holy man. Surrounding him were monks and nuns in magenta and cyan robes. Around the periphery were men in black business kimonos. The wore earpieces, and had ceremonial katana at their sides.

Emily stemmered, "Wait. What? The Kannushi is here. The Kannushi came all of the way up from the temple on Psyche to watch my show?"

Ishmael comforted her, "Oh no dear. I believe he was here for the rest of the festival. But you know, they so like to keep tabs on you."

Emily replied, "And why is that? As soon as I filled out the registration paperwork for Quincy, my mailbox has been flooded with letters, and forms, and travel brochures for Psyche. I have expected when I started translating some of it for it to say 'WE HAVE BEEN TRYING TO REACH YOU ABOUT YOUR EXPIRED WARRANTY…'"

Ishmael said, in a deadpan tone, "Well you were an experimental model. They don't offer warranties on those. Usually indemnification insurance."

Emily looked up at him in shock, "Wait… what?"

Ishmael quickly recovered, "Sorry… I meant on your android."

Cathy just chucked to herself, "Well I save a bundle by having my droids fabricate their own replacement parts."

Ishmael covered his eyes, and his face was filled with disgust, "After taking apart Quincy, believe me Ms. Yoder. I know all about the quality of droids making parts for droids."

Emily turned to Cathy, "Say, Cathy. You said your brother was serving on the Paul Cézanne?"

Cathy replied, "Serving? Oh no, honey. And it was my cousin, George. He runs a dairy farm. His wife is a biologist, and they are doing some sort of research he can't talk about."

Emily asked, "Is he happy being there?"

Cathy replied, "Well I've never heard him complain. Well, ok, he complains all of the time. But never about the ship. Ok, he complains a lot about the ship. But nothing that tells me he or Gretchen would ever leave…"

Before Cathy could finish her thought, a loud bang on the stage interrupted the conversation.￼

A burst of pyrotechnics introduced the next act. The Emcee shouted excitedly, "And all of the way from occupied Lethia, I bring to you act we've all been waiting for… Nevyrazimyy Uzhas? Wait I though this was supposed to be Cirque Du Luna?"

The flames formed the letters, first in Cyrillic: невыразимый ужас

Which then dissolved into the roman letters: Nevyrazimyy Uzhas.

Which danced into the form, The Unspeakable Horrors.

Which was followed by a disclaimer: Not Legally Affiliated with Cirque Du Luna.

Many of the audience audibly groaned. Some of the back of the crowd started to drift away.

Three performers emerged from the flames, and flopped on stage. Each leaped through the flames, one by one, and landed with a thud on the stage. They looked like they were crash landing somewhere. Each was wearing black and white makeup, a black beret, a striped top, black slacks, and black overalls.

All wore a white base makeup. But the patterns on the faces resembled digital camouflage. While it obscured the identifiable features of the face, it somehow managed to accentuate the emotion of the performer.

The first mime, we will call the leader. He was a man of average height. His wore what was left of his blonde hair in a buzz cut. He was clearly balding up top.

A second mime we will call the brute. He was built like a spaceball player, or an emergency responder. His head was completely bald. His arm and leg muscles were quite well developed. He wore a handlebar mustache or reddish hair.

The third mime we will call the spy. Her black hair was cut to stubble length below the ears. Her bangs were cut to just above her eyes. She was the same height as the leader. It was clear she was just as athletically developed as the brute. She just wore her muscles like a lady.

The troupe began back to back. Each put a flat hand up to their eyebrow, and seemed to scan the audience. Every so often one would stop and point someone out.

The brute and the leader followed the spy's finger. She was pointing directly at Emily. Telepathically she transmitted to her co-performers, "Target confirmed. 150 cm. Red hair. Hook nose. Pointed ears."

The brute tapped the leader on the shoulder, and pointed out the security from the Psyche delegation. Telepathically he broadcasted, "Looks like a muckily muck from Psyche. That security detail looks pretty substantial."

The leader fixed his eye on Bastet. He broadcast, "That cat. I'm getting a strange vibe. I suspect we have a freelancer on our hands too."

The spy reached into her cleavage and pulled out an imaginary object. The leader and the brute followed her hand as she pulled it out. The leader and the brute then followed the path of the object back to her cleavage.

The spy's body went into a pose mimicking a famous status of the Valkyrie, with the invisible telescope playing the part of sword in her left hand. As her head rocked to the right, she caught sight of the two men ogling her cleavage.

She flew into a mime rage, and bopped the two on the head with the invisible telescope. The leader waved his hand, and pointed back out to the object of interest in the audience.

The spy pointed her invisible telescope on Emily. The leader begged to look at the scope with a pantomime gesture. The spy relented and gave the telescope to the leader. He looked through the scope, and then he seemed to really be overly interested in one particular thing he was looking at.

The brute slapped the leader on the shoulder. The leader handed the scope to the brute. When the brute looked through the scope he leered through it.

The spy followed the line from where the scope was pointing. She covered her mouth with embarrassment. She struggled for a moment to get the invisible scope back from the brute. She stormed over to the leader. With a pantomime she demanded he get the scope back from the brute.

The leader stormed over to the brute. With a pantomime the leader demanded the telescope. The brute pointed to something in the distance. The leader cupped his had over his eye to see. The leader also cupped his mouth in embarrassment.

The leader put his fingers to his lips, and pantomimed a silent country whistle. From around the corner a fourth mime pushed her way through the crowd with a hand truck. She was shorter than Emily, yet built like a weight lifter. We will call her the Dwarf.

The Dwarf pushed the hand truck onto the stage. As she stopped, she performed a hand stand on the handles of the truck. She let go, performed a flip, and landed to a roar of applause from the audience. She then leaped in the air, performed another flip, and landed feet down on the hand truck's handles. She was now eye to eye with the brute.

The leader gestured for the Dwarf to move the Brute. The Dwarf tapped the brute on the shoulder. The Brute shared the telescope with her. The Dwarf looked into the scope. She started leering even more deeply than the Brute.

The leader stood on his tippy-toes to tap the Dwarf on the shoulder. The Dwarf passed the telescope back to the Brute, who resumed is leering through the scope.

The Dwarf looked down at the Leader with a gesture of "now what?"

The Leader grabbed the Brute by the waist and struggled to lift him. The Dwarf made a gesture of "lift with the knees". The Leader stopped his lifting and rubbed his back, as if he were in pain. As he fixed his gaze on the Dwarf, be pointed to the Brute, and then he pointed to the hand truck as if to say, "Get him on the cart!"

The Dwarf shrugged. She stepped into the air in front of the cart. The the amazement of the audience, she stayed 2 meters in the air. She went down on one knee, and reached to the front of what seemed to be an invisible box. She opened an invisible door on the invisible box.

The spy then began to clicé pantomime that she was stuck in an invisible box on the opposite side of the stage.

The Dwarf, the Leader, and the Brute simultaneously turned to glare at the Spy. The Spy seemed to detect their disapproval. Embarrassed she stopped. She went into a pose where she put her hands behind her pack and silently whistled in the air.

The Dwarf leaped off the top of the box, and grabbed the Spy by the hand. The Dwarf started to drag the Spy over to the real invisible box. But the Spy patted her on the shoulder, and pointed out the Kannushi.

The Dwarf wasn't moved, and kept dragging the Spy over to the invisible box. However, the Leader and the Brute both took note. The men moved head over heel off the stage and over to the Psyche delegation. Each man had an invisible autograph pad that they pantomimed to that they wanted signed.

The Kannushi was unmoved. The Leader adopted the same posture and emotion as the Kannushi. The Brute looked at the two men, and pushed his pretend autograph pad to the Leader.

The Leader took the autograph pad, stiffly. He removed a pretend quill from behind his ear, stiffly. He tried to sign the book, but realized that his invisible quill was dry.

The Brute then adopted the pose of one of the Kannushi's attendants. He held out an imaginary ink well. The Leader stiffly dipped the imaginary quill into the imaginary ink well. He signed the imaginary autograph pad, and tried to hand it back to where the Brute was standing before he shifted to his latest impersonation.

Both Leader and Brute looked for the missing autograph seeker. And they shrugged. As they finished shrugging the Kannushi's guard had stepped between the performers and the rest of the Psyche delegation.

While this interaction was going on, the Dwarf and the Spy had been showing off the invisible box on stage. By now the Spy was inside of the invisible box, which the Dwarf was scooting around the stage on the hand cart.

The Dwarf and Spy now left the stage, and headed out to the part of the audience where Emily was standing. The audience was amazed at how the spy seemed to be floating in mid air, and followed the motion of the cart perfectly. Even bumping down the stairs.

With all of the flips and jars from spinning around the stage, the Spy was pantomiming that she was feeling quite sick. She cupped her hands over her mouth as if she was about to barf.

The Spy banged on the roof of the box with one hand, as she held the sick in with the other. The Dwarf stopped, and tipped the hand truck back into the upright position.

By this point the duo were 3 meters away from Emily and Quincy.

The spy pantomimed being sick all over the floor of the box.

The Dwarf walked over to the front of the imaginary box. Her eye followed an imaginary pool of imaginary barf as it leaked out the side. She then held her nose, fanned her hand, and looked away as if it had a terribly awful stench.

The spy stepped out of box embarrassed. The dwarf turned back to the spy, and gave her a stern finger wagging. The much taller woman's shoulders stooped over, dramatically.

The Dwarf thrust her hand into the box and pulled out an imaginary mop. She pantomimed the action of mopping. The Dwarf then thrust the imaginary mop into the hands of the Spy.

The Spy took the imaginary mop, and looked forlorn. The Dwarf made the mopping gesture. The Spy, reluctantly made the same mopping gesture. The Dwarf pointed at the imaginary mess in the imaginary cart. But, she was also pointing directly at Emily, who was on the opposite side of the imaginary box.

The Spy stood upright, and walked over to Emily. She gestured furiously for Emily to take the imaginary mop. Emily was confused at first. The Spy made the mopping gesture with the invisible implement, and thrust it into Emily's hand.

The Spy looked at the Dwarf with a hey she's not cooperating gesture. The Dwarf moved sternly over to Emily. She picked Emily up. Emily felt how powerful the Dwarf really was. Before Emily realized what was going on, she was flung bodily onto the box. The Dwarf slammed an invisible door shut behind her.

Emily struggled for a moment, before her body froze. She was locked into a pose staring straight up, with her arms banging on the door.

The Spy stood next to the box and mimicked Emily's pose. The Dwarf stood on the other side of the box, and adopted the same pose.

The Dwarf then turned and took a stance facing the Spy, as if she expected to receive some sort of weight. The Spy performed a somersault into the Dwarf's waiting hands. The Dwarf then assisted the Spy to launch herself over the crowd and back onto the stage.

The Leader and the Brute had disengaged from the security detail from Psyche. They had made their way back onto the stage. The Spy landed next to the Brute and the Leader.

The three formed a human pyramid on stage. The Leader and the Brute made up the legs. The Spy stood on their shoulders.

With the audience's attention on the stage, the Dwarf quietly took off down the street with the frozen Emily.

On stage, the Spy leaped off the shoulders of the Leader and the Brute. As she landed, she took a bow. She gestured to the Leader, and he took a bow. She gestured to the Brute, and he took a bow. All three locked arms and took a bow together.

The delighted, and slightly confused, audience cheered.

The three disappeared into another spectacle of pyrotechnics. The lights and flames formed geometrical patterns. Finally they formed into the shape of the nation of Lethia. The flames then morphed into the letters FREE LETHIA, before they winked out.￼

Ishmael was still clapping. As a mage, he was very impressed by the display. The invisible box shtick was as old as pantomime. What he just witnessed was high art. He still had no idea how they pulled it off.

It took a few seconds for him to realize that the mimes had completely disappeared. And that Emily had not reappeared.

He looked over to Quincy. But by this point in time, Quincy had taken off running down the street, in the direction the Dwarf had departed with Emily and the hand truck.

Ishmael threw on a cloak and scooped up Bastet. He leaned into the cat's ear and muttered something. The cat lept from his hands, and took off after the quin.

The Kannushi also noticed Emily's absence. He shouted a command in Psychish. His security detail leaped into action, and started muscling their way through the crowd. They were headed in the same direction.￼

The Dwarf and the Brute worked together to yank the hand truck up a several flights of stairs. The Dwarf looked at the number of bumps her frozen captive was taking. She broadcast telepathically, "Are there going to be many more stairs?"

The Brute smirked, "Are you getting tired, Heidi?"

The Dwarf retorted, "No I just don't think we'll have a captive left if I have to take another flight at speed."

The Leader chimed in, "Karl, where is our extraction point?"

A fifth voice entered the channel, "Reactor is fired up, I am latched to an airlock on 195-730-0060."

The leader motioned for the cart to stop. He checked the signage for what level they were currently on, "This is our floor, 200 meters to go."

The party stepped through a portal and into a utility corridor. As they entered the space, the automatic lights detected their motion, and turned on. Two figures awaited them in the portal to the next section of hallway.

One was a black and white leopard. It stood on its toes, ready to strike. Standing behind the leopard was a mage in a body length robe. He had a goatee, and as he locked his body into a combat stance, a golden framed monocle slipped from his eye and was caught by a strap around his neck. He spoke matter of factly, "Give me the girl, and you can continue unharmed."

The Leader, the Spy, and the Brute formed a triangle formation to protect the Dwarf and the cart. The Dwarf slapped a hidden compartment on the invisible box. She reached in, and pulled out a katana and a dagger, which she threw to the Spy.

The Spy brandished her weapons.

The Brute transformed into a bear.

The Leader simply slapped his hands together, and as he drew them apart, bolts of magenta sparks of light leaped between them. He spoke, in a thick Krasnovian accent, "Go old man. We don't want to hurt you."

The leopard emitted an ear-splitting roar. The leader, the spy, and the brute doubled over in pain. The Dwarf, on the other hand, didn't react in the least. She could see her companions must be enduring some kind of sonic attack.

The Dwarf dropped the handle on the cart, and broke into a run across the compartment. Her tiny body rammed straight into the leopard. The beast was caught off-guard. Somehow the momentum of the tiny woman was enough to send the big cat flying backwards. The beast recovered, and landed on its feet.

With the leopard's roar disrupted, the Leader, the Spy, and the Brute recovered their sense immediately.

The enraged leopard leaped at the Dwarf. But it was caught midair by the Brute, still in bear form. The two beasts wrestled in a battle of claws and fangs.

The Spy launched herself at the mage with her blades. She jumped seemingly 3 meters too far to the left. But her trajectory in the air carried her straight to the Mage's left flank.

In the blink of an eye she slashed with the blade and stabbed with the dagger. But she seemed to only catch an empty robe, and air. She altered her course to keep from hitting the wall, and landed on the deck with a roll.

The mage seemed to reappear in mid-are from over the Spy's shoulder. He muttered an incantation, and touched her side. A bolt of energy leaped from him, and her body writhed in agony. Her muscles spasmed uncontrollably. As her blades fell from her hands, arcs of electricity leapt from her hands to the metal blades, to the metal deck below her. She collapsed unconscious in a heap.

The leader let loose the bolt of energy he had collected. A purplish ray shot from his hands at mage. It struck the mage right in the chest. But like the spy's attack, it caught only air. An empty robe caught fire and rustled to the floor.

By this point the snarling Brute (in bear form) had gained some sort of advantage in the wrestling contest. He managed to extricate himself from the clutches of the leopard. With his mighty arms he threw the leopard at the Dwarf.

The Dwarf wound up a mighty punch that sent the great cat flying off in yet another direction. The beast smacked into a bulkhead like a sack of concrete. The metal bent, and rivets on the edge of the plate failed and flew in random directions.

The Leader was keeping a wary eye for where the mage would appear next. The Brute and the Dwarf joined him in a back-to-back formation. They were surrounding the unconscious Spy.

The mage reappeared directly behind the brute. The mage then hit him with the same agonizing bolt as he used on the spy. The brute collapsed to the ground, sparks of energy leaked from his body into the deck below. By the time he had hit the floor, he was in human form again.

The Dwarf and the Leader turned to face the mage.

The Leader spoke, "You can't stop us, old man."

The mage replied, "Oh, I didn't have to stop you… I just had to slow you down."

As he said this a glint of steel punched through the belly of the Dwarf. The Leader and the Dwarf both looked at the blade with horror. The blade was held by one of the Kannushi's honor guards.

The guard pulled the blade straight up, cleaving the top half of the Dwarf exactly in two. The woman had only a brief expression of confusion as the two halves of her body separated. And in the process erupted into a flood of blood and vicera.

A necklace of some sort was caught on the tip of the blade. It contained the Dwarf's dog tags. Her body collapsed into a heap on the floor. Blood formed a puddle around it.

The hilt of another blade struck the Leader in the skull. He fell to his knees, dazed. Guards roused the Spy and the Brute, and forced them onto their knees next to the Leader.

As he looked up, the Leader could see the Kannushi was standing before him. The Kannushi knelt over the fallen Dwarf, and shook his head.

The Leader shouted, "Is that it? You are just going to gut us all like fish? DO IT ALREADY!"

The Kannushi stared at he Leader, "Oh no." He took the still bloody dog tags off the end of his guard's blade. He placed the grotesque ornament over the next of the Leader, before he continued, "I need the rest of your team very much alive. You need to take this message back to whoever ordered this attack. We will be placated with the life we have taken today. But if they attempt this again, it will be war."

The Leader yelled, "War with ISTO? Over one android?"

One of the guards held out a towel. The Kannushi wiped the blood off of his hands. He replied, "Oh no. War with the Gods."

The Kannushi gestured to one of his guard's wrists. The guard held it up, revealing a watch. The Kannushi studied the watch for a moment and then said, "I figure you have about a 5 minute lead still on the local police, and about 10 minutes on the local militia. I suggest you make your way to your ship with all due speed. Fear not, your comrade's remains will get a respectful disposal."

The Leader spit, "She is just an empty shell now."

The Leader, Spy, and Brute stood up and started moving in the direction of their vessel. As they left the security detail sheathed their swords.

Ishmael looked on in horror, "Was that… entirely necessary."

The Kannushi was busy. He muttered an incantation. A ball of energy surrounded the invisible box. The effect rendering it invisible was dispelled. The was writing on the device in several languages. The Solar English version read: "EMERGENCY STASIS POD". The pod also contained an indicator for the vessel it was taken: KG-103 - MARNE.

Two of the guards laid the pod down flat. One fiddled with a control panel towards where Emily's head was positioned. The lid opened sideways like a coffin.

Emily flailed for a moment, yelling angrily to be let out. Next she sat up asking, "What the hell happened?" She sniffed the air an asked, "What is that smell?"

Her nose lead her in the direction of the remains of the Dwarf. At which point she screamed.

Chapter 4

The Cleanup

Emily clutched Bastet (now back to her normal form.) The cat had recognized that she was stunned, and had crawled over to her as she stepped out of the stasis pod. Emily tried to pet the cat, but she seemed to brush over a wound that caused the poor thing to hiss. So she simply held the cat.

Quincy had arrived with a team of responders. The medic quickly dove onto the corpse to see if there were still signs of life. It were still twitching. It seemed that parts of the Dwarf hadn't gotten the memo that she was, in fact, quite dead.

Emily couldn't take her eyes off of the body of the Dwarf. She had never seen a dead body.

One of the responders recognized the stasis pod for what it was. The respoders gently scooped the remains up, and laid them in the stasis pod. They put the two halves back together, and the being resembled something human once more.

Emily could see that the Dwarf had ears like her own. And in fact, behind the left ear was a tattoo with a jumble of letters and numbers: KRL-24-CB632F. Underneath was a tattoo with a more whimsical set of letters that read HEIDI.

Emily recognized that pattern as a serial number for an android. K indicated it was manufactured in Krasnovia. RL was a an android type she wasn't familiar with. 24 was a hexadecimal model number. CB63 was the start date of manufacture, coded in hexadecimal. A quick estimate in her head put that at about 5 years ago. 2F indicated she was the 49th unit that started manufacture on that day.

Two responders whisked the pod and the body away on the hand truck. Presumably to the trauma center. Though, from the look on their faces the prognosis for the patient wasn't going to be all that good.

A janitorial drone was cleaning up any remaining signs of the mess.

A detective had arrived, but Kannushi waved his diplomatic pass. They exchanged a few words in private.

After that discussion, the detective looked a bit angry. He called out to the rest of the team, "That's as far as we can take this. It's a Psyche matter."

Emily had finished processing the shock of the situation, and was back to asking rational questions. First she turned to Ishmael, "Was she… an android?"

Ishmael nodded, "A KRL unit. Quite advanced. Why, in that cross section I couldn't see any indication she was an artificial life form. Such a waste. I would have liked to have studied her more. I had no idea they could make them telekinetic, let alone telepathic. And this one in particular was built with a non-functioning vestibular system. Fascinating."

Emily looked at Ishmael as if he were a ghoul, "A girl was cut in half and all you can talk about is her vestibular system? And her special abilities. She had a name! She had people who loved her!"

The Kannushi spoke, "And odds are she would have just stood by when they took you wherever they were going to take you. And do with you whatever they were going to do with you. They don't treat artificial life with respect. They are just biological machines to them."

Emily said, coldly, "Well what gave those idiots the idea I was an artificial life form?"

The Kannushi and Ishmael exchanged a knowing glance. Ishmael was about to speak. The Kannushi bid him be silent with a gesture.

Emily turned to the Kannushi. She bowed and spoke in Psychish. Or, at least her best effort at Psychish: "Kan'nushi, saishi kara sore o toru mono"

The Kannushi bowed, and replied, "'iidha lam yat altalu 'iilaa muhamad , fasayadhhab muhamad 'iilaa altali"

Emily held her bow for a few awkward seconds. The wracked her brain, but she just could not make sense of what she just heard. She opened one eye, and asked cautiously, "My Psychish is a little rusty. What was that?"

The Kannushi replied, "That was Arabic. In your tongue that translates to 'If the hill will not come to Mohammed, Mohammed will go to the hill'. We are going to have to work on your Psychish if you are to take your place at the Temple, though."

Emily's body straightened. She looked at priest, shocked. She started to stammer, "Wait…what? Look…I … I know you all keep sending those letters and things to have be come to Psyche and visit my ancestors and…"

The Kannushi waved his arms, "Oh no. Not yet. You are not ready. You have the education. You have performed the miracle. But until you enter the Temple with an unburdened heart, you are not ready to lead us."

He placed his hand the top of her head. He closed his eyes, and seemed to drink in some sort of vision. Emily stared at the man, confused.

It was a moment before he spoke again, "Yes… I see a desire for adventure still in this one. But, something is holding you back from that adventure. You must see the Cosmos for yourself, Daughter of Grace."

Ishmael interjected, "I fear I'm in over my head if Krasnovia is sends another LTS force like that. I think we should take her back to the surface. I can't keep her safe up here."

The Kannushi opened his eyes, "No. That would be bad for her. I can see her eye on the horizon."

Emily finally had enough, "Why do you two keep going on like I'm the chosen one or something? If anybody cared this much about me, why did I grow up in an orphanage?"

The priest put his hands up, "Child of Grace. You were sent to live among the barbarians for a purpose," His voice changed, and he chanted something in Psychish, "I no naka no kawazu, taikai wo sirazu… A frog in a well never knows the vast ocean."

Emily smirked, "So that's what? A prophesy?"

The Kannushi replied, "No. It is just our way. Some day you will return to Psyche and lead us with the perspective of one who has seen the known world from the outside. The mumbo-jumbo is just to keep those who cling to the old ways in line. Trust me, we've run this whole scheme through countless situations. You just be you, and try to look surprised when it happens."

Emily stamped her foot, "Wait. You expect me to … just what?"

She stormed off into the distance. Quincy followed her.

After she was out of earshot, the Kannushi muttered, "Exactly that. What ship to you think she's going to jump off to?"

Ishmael shrugged, "No idea. But you really think she's going to just drop her life here and go off on an adventure?"

The Kannushi pulled a datapad out from a pocket on his robe. He consulted his figures and spoke back, "That wouldn't be my first guess, but Grace is predicting it with 96 percent certainty."

Ishmael gasped, "96 percent? She never makes a prediction that certain."

Kannushi shrugged, and replied (in Latin), "temet nosce," he then repeated in English, "Know Thyself."

Chapter 5

The Escape

Emily sat, waiting in the Commandant's office. While she was waiting, he had activated the holoviewer on the wall. She stopped on one channel that was showing footage of her abduction. As the footage played, empty headed "experts" commentated on it as if it were an olympic sport.

They split the screen with a male commentator. He wore a dandy coat with a frilly collar. He spoke in a tone that gave you the sense that he was utterly bored with life. But Emily remembered him from other programs. That was basically his schtick. He droned, "…But clearly you can see these aren't professional mimes. That is dazzle camouflage they are wearing, not clown makeup. That's the sort of things that special operators would wear. Somebody should have seen this coming."

The split view changed to a white haired man who wore a black jacket and a vicar's collar. He spoke in a tone that suggested that everything was an outrage. Including the fact he had woken up this morning, "But Free Lethia? They are clearly terrorists! Damn Lethians can't be bothered to protect their own homeland so they come in to our capital and hope we'll start a war for them. We outta go in there and show them ISTO isn't to be trifled with…"

The Commandant entered the room. She could see Emily's gaze was transfixed on the holo viewer. The Commandant poured herself a cup of coffee. And after a moment of thought, poured Emily one as well.

She pressed one cup of coffee into Emily's hand. The act of taking up the coffee seemed to break the spell the TV had on her. Emily shook her head, and then suddenly recognized the Commandant.

Emily blurted out, "Oh, so sorry. I was just waiting. And I needed to get my mind off of something…"

The Commandant sipped her coffee, nonchalantly. After she placed the cup down on the saucer, she asked "You've been through an awful lot today. I was going to suggest you take some leave."

Emily composed herself, "Actually, that's exactly what I wanted to talk to you about. I was thinking about something a little more… indefinite."

The Commandant looked intrigued, "Go on."

Emily took a deep breath, "I think I want to take that posting on the Paul Cézanne."

The Commandant's lip wrinkled, "You think you want, or you are planning on taking?"

Emily suddenly gained the confidence she needed, "I am planning on taking."

The Commandant looked delighted, "That is wonderful! I'll let Ben know."

Emily was surprised, "You aren't… mad?"

The Commandant shrugged, "I would have been mad if you hadn't taken it. It's a wonderful opportunity. And I know it's always bugged you how you missed out on going into space."

Emily changed the subject. She gestured to the television, "The talking heads are saying I was abducted by Lethian terrorists?"

The Commandant waved the hand that wasn't holding her coffee, "Well ISTO intelligence believes nothing of the sort. But we can't let Krasnovia know what we know. They watch our news like a hawk."

Emily asked, "Well if they weren't terrorists, who were they?"

The Commandant replied in completely matter of fact tone, "Krasnovian Special Forces. Expeditionary Division 5, attached to the Kriegesraum vessel KG-103. Assigned to LTS actions."

She then took another sip of her coffee.

Emily shook her head in surprise, "Wait… what?"

The Commandant rolled her eyes, "We do these sorts of things to one another all the time. We call them Less-Than-Serious responses. When one superpower does something to tick off another superpower we express our disapproval in seemingly harmless, but otherwise terrifying ways. I remember one operation, and I can only mention this because it was quite some time ago, where we snuck a team into the imperial palace and replaced the Prince's Krazi-Bear with an ISTO-Eagle."

Emily looked at her incredulously, "All that effort? We put lives at risk. For a stuffed animal?"

The Commandant, sipped her coffee and carried on, "We demonstrated that we could get inside their security cordon. And if we have access to the Prince's toys, we had access to the Prince. As it is, we attached a note to the Eagle explaining that Krazi-Bear would be back. And that Krazi-Bear sent his good friend ISTO-Eagle to keep an eye on the Prince while he was gone. We weren't trying to terrorize the boy, of course, just his parents."

Emily spoke, "So, this could just be an escalation if this long running game of, well, pranks?"

The Commandant shook her head, "No. There has been an understanding until now that while we go through the motions, we don't actually carry out these attacks. Neither side actually destroy things, nor do we assassinate or grab people. We just go through the motions. We demonstrate that we could if we wanted to. But this… this was something different. You are on nobody's target list. They blew their cover on a soft target. Somebody in Krasnovian high command green lighted this, knowing it could very well start a war."

About the Author

￼

Sean Woods is a Computer Engineer who leads a double life as a story teller. His background in technology, defense, and science education are balanced by a sense of wonder, humor, and skepticism in his foreground. His writing is inspired most by Arthur C. Clarke and Douglas Adams.