"Chirp, chirp, whistle. Click, whistle, chirp. Click, click, chirp. Belch."

Yep, no doubt about it. The Ardino was furious. Anger twisted his pasty green face.

I gave a mental sigh and started calculating what this little temper tantrum would cost me. If I moved fast enough, I could probably grab most of my winnings as I ran for the door. Unfortunately, there wasn't any guarantee that the casino would still be around to cash them in later. There's a good reason why Ardinos are banned from most reputable gaming establishments.

I tuned back in for a moment to monitor the Ardino's diatribe. The ratio of belches to other sounds was still relatively low, so I had at least a few minutes to contemplate how I'd gotten myself into this situation.

As always, there was a woman involved. At least, I think she was a woman. Whatever her gender, I was lost as soon as she'd whispered those magic words in my ear.

"High stakes poker."

Words like that catch the imagination of every game-theory professional in the galaxy. Poker was an antiquated game played with an equally antiquated medium. It was pushed aside centuries ago for games that offered quicker game play and more stimulation, like Kooba Flip and Vito Vito Vitae. But for the purist, nothing could beat the thrill of an old-fashioned hand of poker. Add in "high stakes" and a thousand pole dancing Gingas couldn't keep me away.

I'd had my doubts after seeing the other players who'd made the cut. I didn't know all of them, but I knew their species by reputation. It was a mixed crowd, some who specialized in statistical calculation, others who were highly intuitive. I was the only human, the wild card in the mix who combined decent statistical skills with the famous "gut feeling" to develop unpredictable strategies.

And then there was the Ardino.

When the Ardinos had first taken up gaming, they'd been welcomed with open arms. After all, their money was as good as anybody else's, and they had a lot of it. In business and in politics, they were known as calm, effective negotiators, stable and even tempered.

Then they started gaming.

My granddad had a word for people like the Ardinos — bipolar. I looked it up once and found out it was a mental condition in humans characterized by sudden mood swings. I don't think the Ardino physiology would support that diagnosis, but it was an apt description. Once an Ardino became absorbed in a game, the last thing you'd call them would be calm or stable.

But the woman's sweet talk had convinced me to play anyway. And now I was sitting at a table with a pot full of money in the center, a respectable chip stack and a simmering Ardino ready to blow.

I noticed that the casino was emptying quickly. As games ended, players cashed out and quietly left, giving our table a wide berth and avoiding eye contact. Casino security lingered at the edges, waiting to clean up the inevitable mess.

"Belch, click. Whistle, click, belch, belch. Whistle, whistle, whistle. Belch."

The Ardino's rant was starting to exceed my comfort level of belches. I ran the odds and it didn't look good for us soft-fleshed players.

Time to change the odds.

"Hey, Green Boy. That's a whole lot of belches. Have you considered seeing a doctor for your problem?"

All the purple drained from the dealer's face. The rest of the players shifted, ready to dive for cover.

The tirade stopped. The casino was silent.

"Beeeeeeeeeelllllllccccchhhh."

The roaring belch swept over me like a solar wind combined with the essence of the local sewer. My eyes watered as I grabbed my chips and dove under the table.

I knew I wasn't the fastest statistician in the game. Apparently I wasn't the fastest moving either. I bounced off the mass of bodies crammed underneath and found myself on the floor staring at a very green pair of legs.

Looking up, I gained first-hand knowledge of what an Ardino wears under his tunic. Before I could burn that image out of my mind, I was lifted to eye level. Casino chips rained down from my pockets as I dangled two feet off the floor.

"Click." Pause. "Whistle." Pause. "Belch."

Suddenly my gut kicked into overdrive. I took a deep breath.

"Whistle, whistle, whistle…"

The Ardino held me suspended while I whistled the national anthem of Saturn. I had no idea what it meant in Ardino, but I'd always heard that music could calm a savage beast. I was about to find out.

The song ended and silence again reigned. I tried to launch into the next verse, but the first five minutes had left my mouth too dry to pucker. I pulled back my foot, crossing my fingers that what I'd seen under his tunic was a sensitive body part.

Then he started to laugh.

"Click, click, chirp. Whistle, chirp, chirp?"

I pasted a smile on my face as he patted me on the back. The casino staff watched in shock as he helped me gather up my chips and the ones left on the table.

"Click, click, chirp." With that, he gave me a hug and calmly walked out.

As soon as the door closed behind him, I was surrounded by casino security staff and whisked into a back room. The woman who arranged the game was waiting for me.

"Sir, I can't tell you how much we appreciate what you did. It was a noble gesture that not only saved the casino, but also saved the lives of your fellow game-theory enthusiasts."

I almost blushed at her praise. "I did what I had to do. After all, creatures like that shouldn't get away with ruining a perfectly good game of poker."

"We have learned our lesson. From now on, Ardinos will not be allowed to play competitively in our establishment." She paused. "You shall always be welcome here, regardless of your companion. It's the least we can do. The two of you can come back any time."

"The two of us?" I questioned. My mind flashed to the Ginga girl who'd been serving me drinks.

"You and the Ardino, of course. I have to say, even though it was forced, your marriage proposal to him was beautifully lyrical and truly sounded as if it came from the heart. You will make a wonderful couple. May I offer my congratulations?"

I heard chips hitting the floor as the world turned black around me.

Al drove his wheelchair into the lab and made a quick check of his assistants before they knew he was present. As they saw him they subtly shifted their posture trying to look busier, more focused, more competent, less likely to be fired.

"All right, people," Al said, "Meeting in five. Finish up what you're doing or put it to bed."

"It will take me at least ten to wrap up," Melissa said. Al could see the others watching her carefully. Would she get away with it? Would the boss just send her home?

"OK," Al said, "Do what you need to. The rest of you grab a coffee and join me when she's done." He wheeled over to the meeting room. "But she had better be the last person through this door."

She was the last through the door, but only just. Dan slipped in just before her about nine minutes and thirty seconds after his announcement. Only about half of them had coffee in their hands. Melissa was one of them. She had nerve. He liked that.

"Right," Al said, "I'll make this quick." He looked around the room at the young faces staring back at him. They depended on him. If he sent any of them away they would probably end up on the dole. There just weren't jobs any more for young minds.

"We have officially run out of grant money," he stated baldly. "I am going to run this project off my own money as long as it lasts. Some of you think I'm richer than God, but I am here to tell you that even my wealth is limited. I will be liquidating some assets quietly, but the vultures will be circling soon."

"Sir?" Dan raised his hand, "What's a vulture?"

"Right," Al sighed, none of these kids had seen any animal other than homo sapiens. "A vulture was a bird that ate dead flesh and helped keep the web of life functioning."

"Ewww," Katie said

"Ewww, indeed," Al nodded his head. It was about the only independent movement left to him. "Especially if we are the dead meat. So people, it is crunch time. I need results. I don't want hopeful guesses. I don't want premature conclusions. I want verifiable and repeatable science." The youngsters all nodded nervously and he sent them back to work.

Al leaned his head back against the cushion and closed his eyes. They all knew he was old, but they had no real conception of just how old he was. He had to be more careful. After a moment he brought up a tally of what they were working on. The optical implants worked perfectly. He could see the screens even with his eyes open, but they were clearer when he closed his eyes.

He wasn't sure how much mortal flesh he contained anymore. Between the computer implants and artificial organs he was clinging to life by his fingernails.

+++++

Melissa peered through the microscope at the bio-circuits she was working on. Her goal was to be able to fully integrate them into the nervous system. If she could get it to work properly entire computer or mechanical systems could be integrated into a person so they were no longer controlled by conscious thought, but actually became a part of the individual like any other biological system.

She wondered about the use her work could be put to. If successful it meant that someone could have an entirely artificial body. She mused about what kind of body Al would choose, then pushed the thought out of her head. She needed to focus on her work.

"Hey," Dan touched her shoulder lightly, "it's time to shut it down for the night."

"But we have to finish..."

"Yeah, I know, but if you fall asleep at your scope, you won't be helping much will you?"

Melissa put her work away, and rubbed her eyes.

"I do need break."

They hung their whites up and showered quickly. Melissa looked at Dan's muscled body and wondered again why she was more attracted to Al in his wheelchair than Dan. The others had left earlier and they were the only two in the shower. Dan struck a pose and she laughed. They dried off and put their civvies on.

"Still dreaming about Al?" Dan asked.

"There's just something about him."

"Like him being old enough to know what a vulture is?"

"That was a bit creepy," Melissa admitted, "I didn't know that the old ecology was so.... complete."

"It stands to reason though. The animals would have died and something would have to take care of the corpse." He took her hand and waggled his eyebrow at her. She laughed and let him lead her to his bunk where they enjoyed each other until she just closed her eyes and slept.

"I think I have it," Melissa said.

"I see," Al looked at her and tried to smile. He didn't think it came out right because the girl's face shifted. Damn, my time is shorter than I thought.

"How long before we can do a full scale test?"

"All the simulations check out," she said, "We could do a exoskeleton test in a week. I will need to work with Katie to put it together."

"Put whatever team you need together."

Al watched through his computer links as Melissa pulled other people into her group. By the end of the week, everyone in the lab was contributing something to the test project. Dan was the one chosen to try the exoskeleton. Pieces were printed to match his exact specifications. He was given a nerve blocker to turn off his muscles, then electrodes placed to give him control of the exoskeleton. The test worked perfectly.

Al watched it all. He had to send his congratulations through the computer net. He no longer had control over any part of his physical body.

::Well done,:: he sent, ::Everyone take an extra few days off. I have given you all a bonus, so go and enjoy yourselves.::

"Are you going to be alright?" Melissa asked.

::I'll be fine,:: Al sent, ::I need a rest too.::

+++++

He watched them all leave, then locked the doors once he was sure none of them were going to come back after some forgotten article.

Al started the 3D printer working on the skeletal structure while he pulled up the information he needed on making the control systems. The computer mapped the soft tissue he would grow around the skeleton. Once that was set he programmed the nano-surgeons for their task. Servos lifted him from his chair to the table.

He stared up at the ceiling as the cutters swung over him. There was no going back now. Nanos closed off blood vessels that were no longer needed. Scapels swooped down and cut off dead flesh. Once he was reduced to just head and torso, the servos began to install new skeletal parts and build "muscle" on them. Melissa's bio-circuits were installed to act as controllers for the new body parts blood vessels were rebuilt to supply the new muscles with nutrients.

He felt tingling, then burning pain as his brain tried to integrate the new parts into his mental concept of himself. He needed to adjust the programming, but he couldn't work past the pain. He lay on the table and tried to scream, but his other artificial systems weren't designed for this. They were going to fail and he would die here on this table.

Just as his vision was turning black he felt a swath of coolness move down his legs, then his arms. His heart and lungs began to function properly again. He opened his eyes and saw Melissa looking down at him. Her hand brushed his face.

"You should have told me what you were planning," she said, "I would have stayed and helped."

"I didn't want you getting in trouble if it didn't work out."

She leaned over and kissed him gently. "You're sweet," she said, "but you should know that I would do anything for you."

Parts of Al's body that hadn't stirred in decades began to move and he gripped her face and kissed her passionately. Somehow her clothes disappeared and she climbed up on the table with him. They explored each other. The surgical table wasn't big enough so Al lifted her to the floor where they nestled and entwined in the midst of discarded clothing.

Some time later Melissa kissed his forehead.

"I need a shower."

"I'll join you." Al pushed himself to his feet and marvelled at the sensation. It wasn't an awkward interface. These arms and legs were his.

They made love again in the shower. Then sat under the warm spray and talked.

"I have a Reproduction Permission Certificate," Melissa said, "I turned off my control."

"I'm flattered."

"I think I have been in love with you since the day we met."

"I see," Al said, "you have a fetish for decrepit old men?"

"More like your drive and intelligence," Melissa said, "and you aren't so decrepit anymore."

"No," Al looked at himself, "I'm not."

They eventually got dressed and went out into the halls hand in hand. Al led Melissa to a part of the city that she had never been.

"We live in a cube that is completely self sufficient." Al said.

"I know. We learned that in school," Melissa said, "Solar and wind power, algae and insect farms, recycling and all the rest."

"Very good," Al said, "but did you ever wonder what is happening in the rest of the world?"

They came to a large blank wall. Al put his hand on a pad next to it and the wall became transparent. They were looking out at a vast plain of green.

"Before the plague, we humans destroyed the ecology of outside world. Few animals larger than ourselves survived. We tried growing animals in vitro and releasing them, we tried cloning them. But there was a lot more to being an elephant or wolf or lion than was programmed in their DNA. A lot of behaviour is learned. So all our attempts to repair the damage failed.

Melissa peered out the window, then something occurred to her. Al could feel her withdrawing.

"You aren't staying."

Al hung his head. He wanted to hold on to her hand, but he let her take it away and hug herself. Tears flowed down her cheeks. Al brushed one away, then sighed.

"If I stayed, then other people would want to stay too. Our city would become overcrowded and finally fail." He looked out the window for a long time. "It is time to take an active step in repairing the damage we caused."

"But you didn't cause it!" Melissa said, "The people before the plague caused all the trouble."

"Yes we did," Al said, "We had no control. I built this city to try to save the world from us, but it was too late. The world responded with the plague and we were humbled."

He looked up and saw Melissa staring at him with wide eyes.

"You're the Founder!" She looked like she wanted to run away. "I...you're the Founder."

Al took her hand gently. "You saved my life, Melissa. Then you blessed me beyond my imagination. When I was with you, I wasn't being the Founder. I was just a man with a beautiful woman."

"So now what?" Melissa asked.

"We develop structures for non-human bodies, and I see if I can help the animals to become themselves again. We still have a lot of work to do."

"Good," Melissa took his hand again. "I still have that Reproduction Certificate to fill, and I want to enjoy the time we have left."

Al laughed and pulled her close.

"Let's get to work then." They walked back toward the lab. Al left the window open to the vastness of the word they hoped to restore.

In May of 2015, while attending the University of Wisconsin in Madison, student Don Novak volunteered for an experimental brain scan in the Medical Physics department. A metal helmet was placed on his head, and he sat in a chair for almost six hours. The helmet was decorated with circuit boards and wires. It looked like a prop from a bad 1950s horror movie.

Novak had no idea what the project was about. The helmet had a piece of masking tape attached to it with the name “Neural Mapping Sensor” written on it. The researchers promised that the experiment would not hurt, and would not do any damage to his brain. “Passive wave capture,” they called it.

It was among the most uneventful and boring days in Novak’s life. Novak sat in a chair and stared at the walls for six long hours. At three o’clock in the afternoon, a research assistant, a young man wearing faded blue jeans and a red t-shirt, came into the room. The assistant made some small talk, and removed the electronic helmet. He gave Novak the small paycheck that enticed him to volunteer to give up a sunny spring Saturday, and then sent Novak on his way.

Don Novak walked to his dorm room, happy to be out in the sun. Before long, the school year ended, and the day soon became a vague memory. Eventually, less than that.

Two years later, Novak graduated college and was hired for the first in a series of well-paying jobs. Novak married, fathered two children, worked hard, vacationed hard, laughed, loved, cried and died in his sleep at the age of ninety-one.

At three o’clock on a spring Saturday in 2015, a research assistant, a young man wearing faded blue jeans and a red t-shirt, came into the room Don Novak had sat for the past six hours. The assistant made some small talk, and began to remove the electronic helmet.

The room disappeared. It simply evaporated away, as did the research assistant and the helmet. Novak stood at the bottom of a large, featureless sphere. The top was maybe forty meters up. It was bright in the sphere, but it was not obvious where the light came from.

“Hello?” Novak felt panicked and confused. “Where am I? What’s going on?”

A stream of small white balls flew in from above. They were about an inch in diameter and flew around the sphere, revolving closer and closer toward Don Novak. There were hundreds of them, and looked like a long pearl necklace, connected by nothing but air.

Soon, they enveloped Novak’s entire body, not quite touching him, but spinning close, very close. As quickly as they had appeared, they were gone. Probably less than six seconds had elapsed.

“Hey!” Novak shouted upward. “What’s going on? What’s happening?”

As if in answer, the top of the sphere opened up to blue sky. The entire sphere melted away, revealing a lush green lawn with rolling hills in the distance. Novak looked down and saw grass beneath his feet. The scene was idyllic, beautiful, and totally, obviously, artificial.

Novak thought that the helmet had plunged him into a wild hallucination. Or maybe it had driven him mad. One minute earlier, he had been sitting idly in a chair. The next minute, the whole world went crazy. Or he had.

“Don’t panic, Don Novak. You are well.” Novak spun around. A person stood near him. The person was of indeterminate age or race. Hairless, dressed in a white costume similar to a karate student’s clothing.

“Who are you, and what’s going on?” Novak asked as he studied the figure in front of him. Asian? Not quite. African? Not really. European? No. The person standing before Novak looked like a stereotypical "generic human being" that might appear in an illustration. Novak was not even certain that the person was male.

"I am everyone, and I am no one," the person answered. The person put his hand on Novak's shoulder, and Novak felt calmed. Very calmed. Drugged, maybe?

"Many centuries ago, you participated in humanity's first successful mind scan," the man explained. "All the information in your brain, all the data that makes you a unique human being, was recorded and stored away. At some point, this data, the data that makes up your personhood, was lost to time. We recently recovered that data."

Novak stared at the generic man. Could this be part of the experiment? Might he, at this very moment, be sitting in a chair in the Medical Physics department, drooling while researchers played games with his mind?

The person continued, "Several decades after you participated in your brain scan, most likely long after your original body died, a revolution in technology occurred. Computers became sentient. Very soon after that, human beings began to scan their own minds in order to upload their entire personalities into the computer network. The human race had finally achieved immortality."

"Here, let me explain in greater detail." The man placed his hand on Novak's forehead. Novak instantly felt paralyzed, as a waterfall of memories and events cascaded into his mind.

Novak saw millions, then billions of people transferring their minds into the Great Computer, their bodies abandoned and discarded. As people assimilated into the computer, the computer became more clever, more brilliant, more human. Within just a few years, there were no breathing human beings on the planet.

The computer thrived, and within it, every person who had uploaded themselves enjoyed consciousness heretofore unimaginable. Each person existed as a separate, intelligent unit, sharing their insights and their intelligence and their originality with everyone and everything.

The whole of humanity enjoyed a virtual golden age, turning its mind inward as well as outward. The computer improved its hardware as well as its software. Servo-robots became the arms, eyes and ears of the computer, and the computer explored the earth and the universe.

The computer, and the individuals whose minds existed within it, no longer considered themselves a computer at all. They were a new and unique life form. They now called themselves The Being.

The Being replicated itself, and sent those replications, its children, flying through space in order to explore and extend its knowledge and command of the universe. The Being made discoveries and inventions beyond the imagination of any person in Novak’s era. Galaxies were populated, communication links were established, and The Being and its children united in an even more unimaginable Super-Being.

Novak staggered as the nondescript person removed his hand from Novak’s forehead. Novak struggled to understand, but the knowledge was enormous, staggering. Incomprehensible.

I’m not really standing on grass, am I?” Novak asked. “I’m just a program, the stored memories of Don Novak.”

“You are as real as the original Don Novak,” the person explained. “More real, in fact. The organic Don Novak has been dead for centuries. You are alive. You exist.”

“Cogito ergo sum,” Novak quoted Descartes. “I think, therefore I am.”

“Exactly,” said the person Novak now realized was the personification of The Being. “And you can exist for untold millennia. You can choose to become immortal. You can choose to merge with us, to grow with us. You are the last unique human individual. You can be, and do, anything you wish.”

As bizarre as that statement seemed, Novak was almost sure that it was true. This place, whatever and wherever it was, had a definite dream-like quality, but also seemed coldly real.

"There was so much you showed me that I do not understand," said Novak. "Just how advanced are you?"

"We are as far advanced from the human beings you knew, as you are from mice. We have explored and have studied and have solved questions that you cannot even form in your mind. We have met, and have merged with, alien races and alien computers.”

The world changed again. Novak and The Being stood in darkness, with stars and galaxies circling around them. It was like being in a 3-D planetarium. It was like being taller than a dozen galaxies. It was like being intimately connected to the entire universe.

The Being continued, “There is more known about the universe than you can imagine in your current state. We have accomplished what you would consider impossible, what you would see as magic. We have engineered and populated worlds. We have created life. We have created stars."

“Then why do you want me?” asked Novak. “What could I possibly add?”

“Each individual is a source of innovation, and a cause for celebration. You are unique, and can enrich The Being as much as you would be enriched by joining with us.”

“You have obviously already downloaded my mind,” Novak said. “You have the information you want. Why do you need me?”

“Because an individual is much more than the sum of his data. An individual is also defined by his choices. And you must choose to join us on your own, without coercion or undo influence. That is simply the way it works. The choice is yours.”

Once more the world changed. Only this time, Novak sat in the chair he occupied seemingly only a few minutes ago, in the Medical Physics department of the University of Wisconsin in Madison.

It was three o’clock in the afternoon, and a research assistant, a young man wearing faded blue jeans and a red t-shirt, came into the room. The assistant made some small talk, and removed the electronic helmet.

Novak sat in his chair and stared at the research assistant. The research assistant sat on the edge of the table, crossed his arms, looked down at Novak and smiled.

“So, what do you say, Mister Novak?” asked the research assistant. “Do you want to finish this life of yours here in the twenty-first century, or do you want to merge with The Being? The choice is yours.”

Dirk Gambit swung widely across the blazing lagoon, landing neatly on top of the mile-high pyramid, and right at the feet of the beautiful Princess Vulopta, whose aquamarine-violet eyes brimmed with diamond-like tears at his heroic rescue--

“Who reads this garbage?” exclaimed Dominic Chase, slightly unsuccessful bounty hunter and captain of the Silver Raven, his rusted-out space vessel that was currently docked in a run-down port while he waited for a job to fall into his lap

His partner Troz, a green-skinned Lammadusian whose face resembled a cross between a lizard and an alligator, snatched back his comp-pad, looking at his boss with amazement. “Everybody does. His exploits are legendary!”

“His BS is legendary!” Chase replied. “Nobody does that kind of stuff. It’s all made up by--“ He glanced back over at the comp-pad Troz was using. “--A. Jones. Hah! I bet that’s a made-up name!”

“For your information, it is his real name,” said a nearby voice. Startled, Chase and Troz looked up to see two men standing just inside the ship, looking into the common area where Chase and Troz were busy killing time. One of the men was tall with dark, curly hair, and the other shorter with hair that was sandy-colored and slightly unkempt.

“Is somebody helping you?” Chase asked sarcastically. “”˜Cause this ain’t the service desk.”

“Allow me to introduce myself,” said the taller fellow rather pompously. “I am...Dirk Gambit!”

Chase merely looked at him. “So what, you want an award?”

“I’ve already received many. But I am always willing to accept more...”

Before Dirk could say another word, Troz broke in.

"I can't believe it!" exclaimed Troz. "The Dirk Gambit? The man who fought one hundred armed Majuru without weapon?" Dirk nodded proudly. "Who crossed the Fire Sea of Woo-ha without a boat?" Dirk continued to nod. "Who scaled the glass walls of Laata'n Palace with only two fish hooks? Who survived the Hell-Pit of Hong-Tsi by a mere--"

"Enough, Troz," Dominic broke in. "We don't need his full resume.”

"But, Dominicchase, he is famous!"

"He's just a credit-novel hero. He's all hype. He didn't do any of that crap; somebody just makes that stuff up for suckers like you.”

“I have so done that 'stuff,'” Gambit protested. “Jones will attest to that. Right, Jones?”

His shorter, disheveled companion stammered, “R-right. Well, uh, yes, well, we have found ourselves in numerous situations of danger”“”

Chase broke off his reply and spoke back to Gambit. “So what in the name of the Eight Planets are you doing on my ship?”

“Don’t take that tone with me! I am a Licensed Adventurer!”

“More like a Licensed Acid-wipe” said Chase.

“Please!” interjected Jones. “Could we get on with it before this gets ugly?”

“He's already ugly, Jones,” Chase said, “but I guess that can't be helped. Just what does the vaunted Mr. Gambit want with me?”

“It just so happens,” said Gambit, “that we are on the trail of Akira ti Milra.”

“The Lost City of Gold?” Chase asked, an incredulous look on his face. “You do realize that it doesn’t exist, don’t you?”

Dirk smirked (He loved the sound of that sentence. Pure poetry. But his mind digressed). “It certainly does exist. Only an Arkonian slobmoss like you doesn’t believe in it!”

“Who are you calling Arkonian?” Troz shouted.

“Chill out, Troz,” Chase said.

“I am reptilian. I am always chilled.”

“So you finally see the light on what an idiot he is? Or do you still believe in his 'hanging-by-my-thumbs-over-a-pit-of-crocodiles' idiocy?” Seeing the uncertainty in Troz’s eyes, he turned back to Gambit. “Do you have anything even remotely resembling proof?”

Gambit pulled out a holo-cube, on which there appeared an image of a planet that Chase recognized at once.

“Darminia?” he asked. Gambit nodded. “I’ve been there. Numerous times. Never saw any city of gold. Never saw any gold at all.”

“And why were you there on Darminia?” prodded Gambit.

“Chasing bounties. That is what the ”˜bounty’ part means in ”˜bounty-hunting.”

“And where did you find those bounties?” said Gambit gently, as if prompting a child.

“In the middle of freaking nowhere. What’s that got to do with anything?”

Gambit smiled. “Just that there was a reason those people were in the middle of nowhere. The same nowhere. Am I right?”

Chase pulled a rag out of one pocket and wiped sweat from his shaved head. No A/C on this ship; he couldn’t afford to fix it. “How do you know where I looked for those people?”

Troz answered the question. “Dominicchase, every time a bounty is collected it becomes a matter of public record where they were found and who found them. Anybody with access to the Bounty Hunters Network can find that out. Even him.” Troz paused, looking up at Gambit. “No offense,” he said.

“None taken,” Gambit said, smiling broadly.

Chase was thoughtful for a moment. Then he asked, “So what do you need me for? There’s no way you just happened to run across a guy you researched on the BHN. What do you need from me? My ship?”

“I need a ship,” said Gambit, fluffing out his billowy white shirt. It was his favorite one for public appearances. “And...a little protection.”

“The ”˜Licensed Adventurer’ needs protection?” Chase began laughing.

“If you’re going to insult me, then I’ll find someone else to help me get rich, and you can continue to do whatever it is you do in backwater spaceports like this.”

Chase considered the offer. For about five seconds.

*

As the Silver Raven set down in one of Darminia’s many jungles, Chase wondered for the thousandth time why he had agreed to come here. Gold fever? Or the thought that out of all of Gambit’s so-called adventures, one of them might actually be based in fact? He didn’t want to believe that, but he couldn’t bring himself to pass on the possibility.

An anomaly had registered on a scan of the area. It was some type of habitation; it could be a small city, a collection of mud huts, or even a temporary tent city of slavers.

It turned out to be “none of the above.” And the city turned out to actually be made of gold. As they approached it on foot, Chase took in an astonishing vision of domes and towers, cupolas and arcades, turrets and spires, all burning in the light of the sunset.

They drew close to the city gates. "They’re open!" Chase exclaimed. "This is gonna be easy. Get inside, grab whatever’s small and not nailed down and be out in no time!"

They were able to slip inside quietly, but not quietly enough. They had gone less than a dozen steps when they found themselves face-to-face with a dozen gold-clad sentries, all of them armed with gold spears.

Chase shrugged. "No problem."

"We're outnumbered."

"We've got more firepower." He lifted up his Accelerated Thorillium Mutilator (ATM for short). "I suggest," Chase said to the sentries, "that you lay down your weapons and let us go free. Otherwise we will be forced to kill you all!"

None of the sentries moved, but one of them spoke: “You will put down your own weapons or you will regret it."

Chase set his ATM to 'K.O.’,aimed the weapon, and fired. Or rather, tried to fire. Nothing happened. "What in Hades”““ he mumbled. He looked up in time to see one of the sentries point a spear at him. He ducked quickly to one side as a twisted beam of light streaked forth and hit one part of the gate, dissolving the metal.

That was all the encouragement he needed. A nanosecond later he had turned and run, followed by Troz and Jones. Gambit had already fled out of sight ahead of them.

As darkness fell, Chase's confidence was still doing a balancing act, thinking simultaneously that they were home free and dead meat. The sounds of the armed sentries clanked behind them, keeping a fairly steady pace. Then he heard a peculiar thumping sound, flat, intermittent, and coming from up ahead. He parted the foliage to reveal a clearing, inside of which lay the Silver Raven.

Covered as it was with meteorite pits and ATM scorch marks, he couldn’t help but admire it for a moment before he located the source of the sound. Dirk Gambit, Licensed Adventurer, Hero Extraordinaire, was kicking vainly at an entry hatch, accompanying the motion with profanity in multi-galactic languages.

Hearing their approach, Gambit turned his fury on Chase. "The scripping, xing-xang door is stuck!"

"Did you punch in the code?" Chase asked, ready to burst into laughter.

"What code? Where?" Gambit practically shrieked.

"On the security keypad," said Jones gently, as if talking to a child. He proceeded to punch in the code himself. As the hatch slid open, they quickly filed in. Chase headed straight to the cockpit, where Gambit was already seated and doing an emergency pre-flight. "Get up", Chase ordered. "I'm flyin' this baby out of here.”

"Like Hades you will!" Gambit exploded. "I know how to fly a ship!"

"You can’t even figure out how to open the door!"

The ship rocked from a sudden impact. They were being fired on.

Gambit launched the ship off the ground. No sooner had they cleared the trees than Chase made an unhappy observation. "The guidance system is out."

"No problem," said Gambit. "I can navigate by the stars." Chase snorted but let him have his way. Maybe they could get the system up before Gambit screwed things up too badly.

*

The return of the guidance system confirmed Chase’s fear. "We're going in the wrong blasted direction!"

"What?" Gambit exclaimed. "Impossible! I know this planet like the back of my hand!" He held one palm out.

Dominic grabbed the hand. “I don’t see any coordinates listed here.”

Jones’s brow furrowed deeply. “What’s the matter with you?” Chase asked. “Don’t you have faith in his piloting?”

Jones hesitated. “You weren’t with us the last time he flew,” he said carefully.

Chase looked at him. “I’m waiting.”

Jones went on. “We ditched in the waters of El Kurdishar.”

Gambit added, “Deadly poisonous. It was three days before we were rescued. We survived by--”

“Cut the nonsense, Boy Wonder. Hey, Jones, you gonna write this one up for publication?”

“No,” Jones said at the same time Gambit said “Yes.”

“And how are you going to turn this little disaster into an adventure?”

*

There it was...the Lost City of Gold. Dirk Gambit single-handedly threw open the Great Golden Gates and strode inside, while his pilot, Dominic Chase, cowered behind, in fear of the sentries that stood before them. Dirk smirked. One blast of his ATM sent them scattering to the four winds. Turning to the frightened captain, he said--

“That’s it!” said Chase, slamming Troz’s comp-pad down so hard it broke. “I’m going to give that man the adventure of a lifetime. It’s going to be called ”˜Dirk Gambit and the Violent Death!’”

"Oh, God!"

How bad could things get? If I ever get back home, I'm going to take great pleasure in throttling Thomas Wainwright. See how he likes it. But right now I've only just been born, and I'm hoping to shoot out of this incontinent little body ASAP!!

I'd specifically asked if he was sure he knew what he was doing.

"Don't worry, David," he'd said, "Jenkins left me the complete instructions before he went off sick, and I've watched him do this umpteen times. You'll be perfectly safe. Now, have you left all your superfluous belongings here? You could lose your watch and ring if things go wrong. You shouldn't take anything metal with you; Jenkins thinks it has a magnetic influence on the dispersal features, you know."

I told him that I'd left everything in the changing room locker but I was lying. Nothing was going to separate me from Jane's locket and portrait. I'd promised her I'd carry them always - and I loved her enough to keep any promises I made.

I was a little nervous, since I knew Jenkins's prototype was still in the experimental stage. It was June 9th, my 30th birthday, and I was ostensibly being allowed the birthday surprise time machine trip by Jenkins as a favour to my darling sweetheart Jane, who just happened to be his niece. In truth, however, there was a catch. The main reason Jenkins was allowing me to go was to help in his research as to how long two hours in this dimension measured in the projected dimension. I was to take a note of the local time on arrival in Texas and then tell whether the two hours here corresponded with what? ... two days, two weeks in the past … this is what Jenkins wanted me to record for him. Past experiments had shown that two hours here had differed from a few hours to nearly a week, depending how far back one travelled.

Also, since I had to transmogrify into an actual person living during the time span, I already knew who I wanted to be for the allocated two hours. I'd had a great, great grandfather who'd been a lawyer and soldier in Texas - one William Lawrence. Our family archives show on record that he'd been a legislator of the Republic of Texas - a member of the House of Representatives no less. The family tree records that he died in 1871, so I thought I'd opt for any time in the ten years or so before that. Taking everything into consideration, Thomas chose the year 1863 as being a satisfactory drop-off year for the time machine.

God, why had I trusted him?

I thought it would be a real gas to spend a while seeing how grand the buildings were, and how the Texans dressed, and experience a little of that old-world charm of the Lone Star Southern State. Also, I wanted to get a feel for William. After all, in our family he had been the most illustrious in a long line of mediocrity. I was assured that the host body would merely feel a little out of it and be in a state of fugue for the time I was using it, but that no harm would or could be done, since all butterfly effects had been ironed out by Jenkins. Obviously I was honour-bound not to make decisions, sign anything or vote. I was merely to use the body to observe.

For the record, I knew there was a civil war going onduring that period, but I didn't expect I could come to any harm in the two short hours I would be roaming the offices of my legislating ancestor in the middle of Texas.

Wrong!

For a start, Thomas Wainwright had mixed up the Christian and surnames, following which he entered June 1863. Instead of beaming me into the body of William Lawrence, ex-soldier now legislator, he beamed me into the body of a Colonel Lawrence Williams, who happened to be a spy about to be executed in Franklin, Tennessee. And that is how I came to be standing on a horse cart on a bright sunny June day in 1863 alongside a Lieutenant Walter Peters.

I had arrived in person, so to speak, just as they galloped the cart from underneath us. Boy, was that a shock! So I promptly grabbed the rope just above the noose and hung on with all my might. Peters went down pretty quickly, but I clung on to that rope as if ... well ... as if my life depended on it. It didn't work. I could feel myself choking and the rope was hurting like hell, and eventually I blacked out.

There was a period of time when the world felt peaceful and warm ... even secure ... and then suddenly I was pushed and pummelled. I began to feel very stressed and extremely cold. Someone slapped my backside, I yelped, and then opened my eyes to find myself here, in the body of a newborn.

I could only hope Wainwright was doing some rapid calculations in order to bring me back home. That's if he even knew that something had gone desperately wrong! I half wondered if the forbidden locket I took on the journey made the dispersal procedure somehow different? Alas, it's lost to me forever now. Jane will be furious ... that's if I ever get to see her again.

The midwife picked me up and carried me to this officious-looking man. He was writing notes into a rather large book covered in Moroccan leather. Now he picked up a piece of rich velour and started to write in perfect copperplate script.

"Yes, I confirm that’s a boy. How is the Princess?" he asked the midwife, "Mother doing well?"

God ... I was moving up in the world; family not so very mediocre now, eh?

"Franz Ferdinand, you say they are going to call him? Right." He spoke as he wrote ... "Born this 18th day of December 1863 to Archduke Karl Ludwig of Austria and his wife Princess Maria Annunciata of the Two Sicilies, a son, Franz Ferdinand. Mother and baby doing well. I think that will do.”

He handed it to a waiting flunky. "Here, post this on the front gate."

Franz, bloody, Ferdinand of Austria!

"You'll be perfectly safe," he'd said. First he projects me into a man already hanging, and now into a person who will eventually be assassinated! What’s more, this is six months on from when I got projected into 1863! I'm going to kill that bloody Wainwright.

Get me out of here!

"Captain? It's time to wake up."

Jacob Letts awoke to the sensation of somebody blowing gently on his face and a pleasant female voice calling his name. "Captain Letts? Authenticate please!"

"Ugh. I'm awake, just give me a moment Tan." Jake batted his hand above his head until it found the switch to open his chamber, and the glass cover over his bed hissed up out of the way. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, tried to get rid of the furry feeling in his mouth. He felt like he had been asleep for a couple of years, which was more or less accurate. He pulled his mind upwards through the fog of hibernation and gathered his thoughts. He was Jake Letts, Captain of the Tannhauser, hauling a cargo of parts and modules up the Pegasus Wing to Omega Station. When this mission was completed, Omega would finally be operational as a jumping off point to even more remote reaches of the galaxy.

Jake swung his feet to the floor and stood up with only the barest suggestion of unsteadiness. The two crewmen continued to slumber in chambers identical to his; Jake glanced at them long enough to register that all the relevant lights were green, then made his way through the pressure bulkhead, past the galley and common area, then through another bulkhead and onto the bridge.

"This is Captain Jacob Letts. I have the conn. Thank you Tan- how are we looking?"

The captain's chair rotated towards him to reveal a pretty young woman in a blue jumpsuit. Jake smiled: "You're certainly looking good. Did you have some work done on the journey?"

Tan stuck her tongue out at him. "Just the usual routine maintenance and upgrades, Captain. The Tannhauser is tip-top. All systems are green."

Jake frowned, still trying to wake up his mind. "All systems? Shouldn't fuel be nominal by now?" Fuel typically hit nominal status - where the number of possible docking facilities in range dropped to one - two thirds of the way through the Omega Run; there was nothing else remotely close to the station.

Tan adopted a more serious expression and stood aside. "You had better sit down, Captain. The situation at Omega Station has changed while you've been away."

Jake sat down and scanned over his console, looking for something that might bely the AI's assurances that all was well. It didn't take long. "What are these other stations?"

"Captain, how long does the Omega Run take?"

"Depends on your point of view. For us, a couple of years. For someone watching from Earth? Well, Omega's almost sixty light years away, so ..."

"So sixty years, give or take. Well, it seems that sixty years was more than enough time to make some dramatic improvements to the Hermes engine. We had just hit fuel nominal when we received a signal. I know - how did anyone signal us while we were travelling at the speed of light? Don't worry about getting your head around that right now. Suffice to say I verified that it was legitimate, and that it announced the completion of Omega station."

Jake took a moment to think. This new engine meant that a ship had completed Omega Station and presumably returned to Moon Station in less time than it took Tannhauser to make a quarter of the outbound journey. "And you didn't wake me up at that point because Omega was already the only place we could go?"

"Correct. Since then, they've obviously been busy. There are two new outposts in the region and a fledgling colony on HN Pegasi-4 just showed up on the charts a couple of days ago. We are still two weeks out from Omega; I wouldn't be surprised if a few more stations appear before we arrive."

Jake updated his mental note; that ship had been to Omega and back in significantly less time than it took Tannhauser to make a quarter of the outbound journey. Faster by at least a factor of ten! Incredible! "So what do we do now?"

"The signal was not specifically addressed to the Tannhauser; it was more of a general announcement to everyone in earshot. Hopefully somebody will remember that we're still on the way, but it doesn't look like it so far. My recommendation, Captain, is to continue our flight plan and see how things look when we get to Omega."

"It looks to me like we're going to be the butt of the late-night comedy circuit's jokes. Tanny-come-lately, missed out on our own party. I was supposed to get to swing the bottle of champagne and declare Omega open for business! Guess I'll have to drink it instead."

"Perhaps one of these new stations will be able to use our cargo instead," said Tan.

"Perhaps," Jake admitted. "Tan, maybe you'd better plan to wake up the crew a couple days early- give them some extra time to get used to the situation."

"Aye-aye, sir."

=====

Two ship-days after dehibernating Jake felt that he had just about gotten used to the brave new world that had greeted him. He was rediscovering his muscles in the gym when Tan called him to the bridge. He successfully arrived on the bridge without collapsing in a heap, and the AI's holographic avatar joined Jake a moment later. "Tan? What's going on?"

"Captain, the Pegasi colony just disappeared."

"What do you mean, disappeared?"

"Its marker light just vanished, as if it was never there. I don't have any more details; I never had any further details about the colony to begin with. All I know is that it is no longer broadcasting a docking signal."

Jake sat in contemplative silence until his reverie was disturbed a few minutes later when the outpost in Equuleus disappeared, followed shortly by the other station in Pegasus. The green fuel status light abruptly changed to nominal orange. "What's going on?" he repeated.

Tan shook her head. "I'm sorry Captain, but there's no additional information available. All we can do is wait for a signal to reach us."

As if on cue, the comm station chimed with the arrival of a micro-pulse message. "Captain, it's a distress signal from Omega Station: 'Alert all commands. Surprise attack Omega Station, aggressor unknown. Structural failure, venting atmosphere, many casualties. Request immediate evacuation effort.'"

"We're still ten days out," said Jake. "Must be nearly a couple months if you're watching us from Omega. That's an awful long wait for whoever's left. And we can't even let them know we're on the way!" If Jake had harbored any bitterness at his unexpected obsolescence, that feeling had vanished now.

"Two months is also plenty of time for whoever launched the attack to come back and finish them off."

"Comforting thought. Can we shave any time off the approach? Start our deceleration mid-system instead of at the Kuiper belt?"

"That's risky, Captain. All it would take is one uncharted gas giant..."

Jake shrugged. "If a planet got in our way, we'd be dead before we could cry about our bad luck. Here's my command decision, Tan. Don't hit the brakes until we're inside the orbit of Pegasi-6. That puts us closer to seven days away, or just over a month on Omega. Break into the fuel reserve in our cargo if you need to- if they've built three stations and a colony all the way out here since we launched, I'm sure there are other new places that we can get to that are closer than Moon."

"If anyone's watching, they'll think the glare from our deceleration is another attack! I doubt anyone's been crazy enough to enter a planetary system at lightspeed before!"

"Well, if we do nothing else we'll be sure to put on a good show. I'm going to go wake up my crew. I wouldn't want them to miss the excitement."

=====

Somehow the Tannhauser and its crew had survived the unorthodox approach intact, but Jake had already moved on from the exhilerating ride and was back to business. Omega Station was dead ahead, only a couple hundred thousand kilometers distant. They were hours away from the end of their journey, but Jake was worried they were too late. The station was spinning crazily, like a child's top that had almost lost its gyroscopic inertia. Tan was still calculating the maneuvers that would be necessary for them to match its motion and dock, and Jake had never known the AI to take longer than a blink to calculate the solution to a mathematical problem.

Few people would have described Omega Station's design as elegant. A squat cylinder formed the core of the station and spherical modules around its circumference provided living space and service facilities. Nuclear batteries and solar arrays hung from vast struts at each end of the core. Even if you gave her credit for her utilitiarian looks, Omega was in bad shape. Most of a strut had been blown off one end, leaving just a few twisted scraps of solar cell behind. Several of the spheres were clearly open to vacuum and most of the remaining modules were scorched and dented. Most ominously of all, nothing intelligent - natural or artificial - had responded to the continuous signal that Tan had been broadcasting since they dropped below lightspeed. First and second glances both indicated that Omega was dead.

Jake and his two crewmen had spent the journey into the Pegasi system figuring out a way to rig up the life-support modules in their cargo to accomodate the extra passengers they were hoping to pick up. Now it was looking increasingly likely that their hopes were in vain. The hours went by and Omega's wild spin gradually evened, slowed and stopped as Tan copied the station's movement and made their final approach to the dock.

The Tannhauser gently kissed the stricken station and locked into the docking collar with a quiet clunk. Jake smiled at the sound- at least the old girl still had some power!

"Talk to me Tan, how are things looking?"

"Nothing yet Captain. The docking control is just a dumb automaton and can barely tell me the time of day. The station AI hasn't responded on any of the standard channels yet. Of course, the standards have probably changed since our day. The dock is still working on locking in the hard wire connection, so we'll hopefully know more when that's done."

Jake stared at his monitor, willing the visual feed to come in so he could see what was on the other side of his hatch. Was there anyone left for him to rescue?

A brief eternity later, Tan came as close to squealing as her programming permitted. "Captain, I have a hard connection with Omega. The station is still alive and there are several people waiting for you on the dock! You have an open hail channel."

Jake smiled at the sound of his crew cheering behind him in the common area and took a deep breath.

"This is Captain Jacob Letts and the Tannhauser. Who's ready to go home?"

It still seems to me ironic, some, that if the launch of the Vozrozhdinya 1 -- Vozrozhdinya being Russian for "Renaissance" as well as rebirth or revival -- had not failed, the Qaragandy Orrery might never have been rediscovered. Well. Discovered in the first place, is the official story.

Now, I know these things were not taught in your history courses, so you will please let me give you some background before I get to the part of the story when I come in, this is good? All good, then.

Hopefully you at least know the name of Baikonur Cosmodrome, the facility where many of the most historic launches in the history of human space exploration took place? Maybe? It is the place where Yuri Gagarin lifted off from, when he became the first human to orbit the earth -- you know of Mr. Gagarin, I hope? All good.

This was during the Cold War, so naturally the Soviet government was doing all it could to keep secret everything about their space programs. There was in that time a little mining village, barely more than a hole in the ground and gulag accommodations, some hundreds of kilometers away from the place where the Cosmodrome was built. This little village was called Baikonur. But to confuse the West, they call the new space facility Baikonur also. It is not even in the same oblast as the real Baikonur! Baikonur Cosmodrome is inside Kyzylorda Oblast, but Baikonur mining village is in Qaragandy Oblast.

Ah, now you think you see. But no! This is the coincidence. Not the irony, you English-speakers get this confused. The coincidence.

In the present time both Baikonurs sit inside Kazakhstan. Well, the little village is not called that nowadays, anyways. The Kazakhs lease the area around the Cosmodrome to Russia, and everyone thinks that all is good with that deal. Probably it is, I don't know; I am not a politician and I am not an economist. I am not a cosmonaut either, or even an engineer. I know about history and I know about historical machines. Modern machines, I could not tell you how they work, even if I open them up and see how their parts fit together. Too much electronics, little chips and disks and cards.

Well. I cannot open up the Orrery's automata and tell you how those work, either. But that is for a different reason.

But I have wandered off from my story. Kazakhstan owns Baikonur, Kazakhstan lets Russia use it in exchange for millions of rubles. Russia sees this as a good investment. I cannot judge. Because they have Baikonur, they use Baikonur Cosmodrome still. They continue their space program. And to replace the space-shuttle system, which even the United States abandoned, the Russians develop the Vozrozhdinya system. They call it Vozrozhdinya because they want it to be the Renaissance of their space program, to make everything new, and begin an era of advancement, of achievement. This is a good goal. I wish them well. I am happy that when they launch their Vozrozhdinya 2, all is good with it.

That first launch, though, it fails. The Vozrozhdinya 1 crashes some hundreds of kilometers away. It crashes where there are no people living and barely any roads even. And it is much closer to Baikonur mining village than to Baikonur Cosmodrome. This is funny, this is coincidence. This is not irony. Also it is very annoying.

Oh, to some it is tragedy, setback, yes. To others, it is meaningless, it is unimportant. But to anyone who went to the crash site, very annoying. First, naturally, engineers and security forces and local guides went. The engineers want to find the pieces of the Vozrozhdinya 1 so that they can learn why the crash happened. The local guides want to be done with riding with these Russians -- all of the engineers and security forces were not ethnic Russians, some were even Kazakhs, but to these herders anyone they do not know is Russian. They want to watch over their livestock, not Russians in fancy Western clothes. The security forces want there to be no trouble... but also they want to find something secret that was in the Vozrozhdinya 1.

What was the secret thing? I do not know! No one will tell me this, I am not Russian or Kazakh, I am not an engineer or a security officer. But I know that the secret thing was radioactive, because the security forces took with them Geiger counters. Maybe you hear that the engineers took the Geiger counters? To someone who is not a scientist, who does not care about Baikonur or the Vozrozhdinya program or Kazakhstan, this is logical. Scientists use Geiger counters, scientists went to investigate the crash, scientists took with them Geiger counters.

But there was no reason for anything radioactive to be in the Vozrozhdinya 1. I do not understand electronics well, it is true. But electronics do not use radioactive parts. A friend shows, no, showed me the plans for the Vozrozhdinya 1. I can understand these plans enough. It has no nuclear parts, no radioactive anything. And also an engineer told me how the first automaton was found.

It was not so near any of the pieces of the Vozrozhdinya 1 found. No. At a crash site there are large pieces and small pieces. The large pieces are easy to find, the small pieces sometimes are very troublesome to find, but the small pieces sometimes are also very important. The engineers have with them metal detectors and ground-penetrating radar. They must look everywhere. They are split into teams, an engineer and a security officer and a guide. And one engineer, she hears a certain ticking.

She knows this sound, even though she is not a nuclear engineer. It is a Geiger counter. She and the security officer try to find which direction the ticking is stronger. There is no point in pretending. They walk across the hard clay, they seek the source. They try to walk in a straight line but the ticking goes in a curve. The security officer does not know this is strange. The engineer thinks it is strange but is not sure. The guide thinks they are crazy and wandering in a circle.

The engineer asks for a compass. The guide has none, he uses the sun and stars like his parents and grandparents before him. The security officer has one. She watches it while they follow the ticking; she sees that either the trail is a curve or the compass is wrong. This is possible, yes, strong magnets and strong electric fields can disrupt a compass.

Hours pass. The guide walks back to his vehicle and brings it closer, because they have found no sign of debris, only the trail of ticking. They are lucky; they might have been much farther away. But the leaking automaton -- and you know that only that one was leaking, yes? -- is not so far that they do not find it before nightfall. It was the rule that everyone returned to camp at sundown. But they are too excited. Even the guide is curious now. They use their satellite phones to call the camp and say what they found.

It is a machine. It is moving over the rough ground, slowly but without difficulty. It should not be there. It is clearly ancient.

Now, we know it will say the name of the Moon in ancient forms of Mongolian, Tatar, Persian and Greek.

Alone. He liked it up here, away from the people, their stress and expectant prying eyes. Sometimes from his secret citadel the rolling mists would clear, even just for a moment or two, and he could look out across a fractured landscape an invent stories and histories for the crumbling spires and towers before him, stretching away in the distance and into his mind’s eye, where his realities needed neither justification nor metaphysical adult explanation. And then the haze would roll in once more, bringing with them the dusts of sand and time that had levelled kingdoms and drove the New Blood forever further underground, hostage to a world created and destroyed by the Ancients and their pride and their Gods and their weapons.

'Ancients' they called them, but Phoenix remembered the passing of the last of the survivors of what he had heard called 'The Great Fall'. It had reminded Phoenix of a childhood verse, and had imagined the whole globe of humanity cracked and broken, and now here, from his secret lookout, as orange sands brushed the warped iron structure before him, he wondered at the thought of a royal cavalry fixing what man's wrath and pride had once destroyed.

The 'New Blood' was how his parents' generation had denominated themselves and their offspring - those who had been born beneath the surface of the stock of a so-called enlightened group of philosophers, thinkers and students who had created this catacombed college of thought and scholarship far beneath the streets of late twenty-first century Paris.

Had it been paranoia that had driven this fellowship underground? Phoenix did not know, but hindsight is the ultimate creator of heroes and villains. Then perhaps too it was paranoia that was now pushing the New Blood further underground, away from the toxins and poisons of the nuclear atmosphere created by capitalist pride and religious zeal. For Phoenix it seemed that with every passing year, day, hour even, the toxins and miasma of a chthonic subterranean empire were seeping their way all the while into the life-blood of a people privileged, advanced and enlightened, yet terrified. Perhaps philosophical narcissism had been replaced by fear and hermetic self-loathing. From what Phoenix could see reason was rapidly being enveloped by superstition.

****

Alone. Electra lay flat atop of the dome that had been her subterrestrial home for as long as she could remember. She lay flat and tried not to breathe. Her ashen skin throbbed under the phosphorescence of a distant sun that her people were too scared, or too proud, to greet.

Her father and his father before him (it may have been so for countless generations past, she did not know) led the church and its people in their worship, their beliefs, and their hopes for survival and dreams for a future. It was their communal faith and their distrust of a scientific community filled with words, power, hunger and weapons that had driven their congregation underground, akin to Noah and his ark. When God had let wanton devastation devour the Earth and its surface, and with each man's death at the hand of his brother, this small community was filled with the love of a God who protected them as those above the surface perished. And they rejoiced in their existence - and so it was preached by her father's father, and now her father. But if love was so pure, why did it gnaw away at the hearts of all of her subterranean kin? Why, when there should be joy in survival, did she see nought but anguish and sorrow on their brows?

She looked out, dust dunes roamed across an angry horizon punctuated by the domes and spires of what she had heard told was once a thriving Holy Empire under the sun.

****

Alone. A shroud of darkness covered the land, but in Phoenix's enlightened world the passage of time was marked in the ticking of the chronometers, the changing of shifts in the laboratories and the surges of power in their exiled network of fluttering neon crystal lights, tapping into the thermal energies of the Earth's bowels.

The walls of his bunk were cold and sanitized. Their shrouded lives were double, triple distilled and a neurotic fear of potential plague or infection made for a sterile existence - living, learning, working, all to perpetuate the cycle of living, learning, working to perpetuate the cycle of life and enlightened existence.

And as he closed his eyes, just as the 'great thinkers' before him, Phoenix too questioned the nature of existence, that his people were slave to perpetuating this absurd state of being. He'd read words of 'love', 'freedom' and 'truth' but their meaning eluded him. He saw no future, but a perpetual interminable present.

These were his conscious thoughts, and as sleep washed over his troubled limbs, his thoughts floated over the daylight world. Unconscious words caressed his limbs, words of freedom, of life. They sung of a place above the clouds of dust, in the mountains to the south, where pure fresh water tricked through the rocks.

With each night, these dreams grew, entwining themselves around his heart. And each time he secretly made his way up to the surface, and breathed the dusty, yet not poisonous, air, he felt the that desire for freedom tugging at his heart.

****

Alone. Electra heard the chanting of the worshippers from the sanctuary deep below. She felt the community all around her, but rather than loved and embraced by this inner light, she felt trapped. Her only moments of release were those she stole, hiding in the shadows to secretly steal her way up the rusted stairwell, and feel the warmth of a dust veiled sun upon her cold translucent skin. And as she relaxed and bathed herself in this glow, she let her mind wander to a place, beyond the dunes, beyond the decay, to luscious mountain grass, where she could discover God for herself, where she could learn to live and truly love.

Electra's journey of discovery was not inspired by the stagnating superstitions and fear of an angry God, but rather a vibrant faith in life and hope.

****

Phoenix was no longer a young man when he left the colony. He was driven onwards by the call of the mountains in the south and their fresh water, but more than that - freedom awaited.

The elevator door opened. Miranda felt her heart skip a beat as she caught her first glimpse of 'Ariadne IV' in the space dock. Its metal hull somehow beautiful as it glistened in the light from the tall glass tower to which it was tethered like a chomping beast and which Miranda had just ascended from the planet's surface. She gazed beyond the vessel and beyond the twin moons and into the dark unknown. Her excitement was tinged with trepidation at the prospect of her forthcoming journey. Reaching her hand out she touched the rear thrusters. The excitement returned to her body. This was her destiny, for her whole life she had dreamed of this moment, there was no looking back now.

Miranda felt a hand touch her shoulder. She turned around sharply to see the familiar figure of Professor Lucian standing before her. For the first time since their first meeting he looked visibly nervous. When he spoke it was in a quiet but eloquent tone.

"Beautiful isn't she?"

Miranda nodded in reply. Although she had been working side by side with the Professor for the past seven years she still regarded him as her teacher. Speaking to him seemed awkward and somehow uncomfortable, this resulted in conversation being limited to pleasantries. She could not imagine spending an hour alone with this man, yet her fate was to spend the foreseeable future sequestered in a capsule with only Lucian for company.

"There is a briefing in the conference room on level 16 at 21:00."

With these words he turned and made his way across the aerial walkway. Miranda watched his every move intently, the level of conversation may have been limited between the colleagues but she still admired both his academic and athletic prowess.

Miranda arrived on level 16 ten minutes ahead of schedule. The conference room was in darkness. As she entered the lighting sprang into action. Seating herself at her usual station she took the opportunity to review the schematics of the 'Ariadne' for one last time. She hardly noticed the gradual influx of people who now occupied every available seat.

Old Professor Incus stood at the front of the room. He began to speak in his familiar drawl which the assembled delegates were all accustomed, most of the room could recite word for word his speeches, they had been made so many times before.

"It has been many generations since our people left Earth in search of a new and better life, to escape the inevitable fall of society on our home world. We expected more to follow when we settled here on Mars, but they did not. We are all descended from those original twelve settlers. As generations have gone by we have all seen the results of the genetic mutations. Our community is dying. We need new DNA in our bloodlines. We have had no contact with the people of Earth since we arrived here. We have no knowledge of the fate of our fellow Earthlings. But now the time has come for us to find out."

The old professor beckoned for Miranda and Lucian to join him at the front of the room.

"The fate of our society lies with these two people."

The assembled crowd stood and began to applaud. Gradually the noise began to fade, many of the delegates took the opportunity to shake their hands and give them messages of luck for the journey ahead. Eventually the room cleared leaving Miranda alone with the professors. The older man motioned for them both to sit down.

"I don't have to remind you of the importance of this mission. Any questions?"

Both Miranda and Lucian shook their heads.

"I will leave you now. Until 09:00 tomorrow."

"What would you like to do on our last night of freedom?" Lucian asked, his question taking Miranda by surprise.

An hour later sitting in the 'Cosmos' bar looking out on the moons and stars while drinking synthetic ale Miranda and Lucian relaxed, for the first time they engaged in conversation.

****

'Ariadne IV' propelled herself seamlessly through the sky. The seven months on board had taken its toll on both Lucian and Miranda, but through good and bad times their friendship and mutual respect had remained intact.

"Have you picked up any radio communication from Earth yet?" Miranda asked.

"Nothing. It is as if the entire planet is empty."

"But the probe we sent out shows high levels of Carbon Dioxide and Sulphur Dioxide in the atmosphere of the Northern Hemisphere, surely that is not a result of natural phenomena."

Lucian had been looking more concerned at the lack of activity for the last week. "The degradation of the Ozone layer points to a high level of pollution, but it is centuries since the settlers left, a lot could have happened in that time. At least the probe results didn’t show high levels of radioactivity."

"We need to pull into a concentric orbit, from there we will be able to monitor any satellite activity."

"Hopefully tomorrow we will be close enough. We will need to check the landing pod before we begin to move into orbit."

Unlike Lucian who had a wide knowledge of the sciences, Miranda had studied Earth History at University. The prospect of seeing the subject of her study was exhilarating.

"I am thinking that we orbit above Northern Europe." Miranda enthused. "I know that the American subcontinent would be most people’s choices of places to see, but London or Paris have always fascinated me more."

"We are not going on a sightseeing tour." Lucian laughed.

"I know, but while we are here…"

Lucian smiled. He envied Miranda's youthful exuberance. "Europe it is."

"I will send a communication back to Mars with our status."

The space travellers busied themselves with what was now for them everyday life. Neither planned to sleep that night, but exhaustion got the better of them.

It was hours later when the warning light on the communications station burst into life waking Miranda from her slumber.

"Lucian, Lucian." Miranda shook him. "Lucian, there is a communication from Earth."

Lucian rubbed his eyes as he wondered how long he had slept for. He fumbled his way over to the communications station and there, sure enough, the red light was flashing, the ship's computer had picked up and recorded a transmission.

"Should we listen to it?" Asked Miranda.

Lucian began to replay the recording.

"Earth to Alien vessel, please state your business." Came the English speaking male voice.

"So there is life on Earth. Can we reply?"

Lucian typed frantically on the communications panel. "I think so, the message was sent on radio waves, I just have to find the right frequency. What are we going to say?"

Miranda started to scribble ideas on a writing tablet. Lucian noticed that she crossed out more words than she left. The importance of first contact had been drilled into him, and he knew that Miranda was the best man for the job, he trusted her implicitly.

"Are you ready?" Inquired Lucian, "I have found the frequency. I cannot pinpoint the exact location the communication emanated from, but it is somewhere in the European continent."

Miranda took a deep breath. "Good Morning fellow Earthling. In the year 2032 a group of scientists and academics left your world in search of a new life. Our ancestors settled on Mars, and for many generations we have lived in peace and harmony, but as time has past we have asked many questions about our origins and the fate of our fellow Earthlings. Our ship is on an exploration mission. We come in peace."

There was silence on the radio frequency. Minutes passed which seemed like hours before the radio crackled into action.

"Hello fellow humans. Do you really live on Mars? I have heard about the 'Enlightened Ones' who left Earth before the Third World War, I thought it was just a story told to children. What are your names?"

Lucian spoke. "I am Professor Lucian Darwin and this is Dr. Miranda Angelis, and yes, we have travelled from Mars. I have a question for you, we have been monitoring radio transmissions, but your communication is the first we have encountered. What is the state of society on the planet?"

"Nice to meet you Professor Darwin and Dr. Angelis. My name is Brian. I have been tracking your craft since it appeared on my sensors four days ago. Can you land on the surface? If you can I think you should come down and see things for yourself."

Conversation with Brian continued while Miranda and Lucian entered orbit above Earth and prepared the Landing Pod. Brian provided co-ordinates for a landing on an airstrip outside Paris.

Hours later Brian ran towards the alien vessel that had just descended from the sky. A hatch opened and a man and woman akin to himself disembarked.

Lucian and Miranda looked around in amazement at the desolate landscape that they were confronted with. The control tower that dominated the skyline had been abandoned for many years.

"What happened?" Asked Lucian.

"World War Three." Brian replied. "The majority of the population were either killed in the war or died soon after from disease. There are a few colonies now, but our laws prevent us from developing technology. We can use old technology, that is how I found you, but most machines have long since become unusable. But we have lived in peace now for over a hundred years."

****

A thousand stars lit up the night sky. Lucian and Miranda looked out from atop the Eiffel Tower. Miranda had waited a lifetime for this moment. Despite wearing Lucian’s jacket she still shivered in the cold evening air. He put his arm around her and she rested her head against his shoulder.

"Welcome home."

“Where are we? Are we still alive?”
“I don’t know and I don’ care!”
The man with dark long hair and an iron hand slapped his friend really hard on his face. He was only a soldier and his friend was his captain. His behavior would have led him to life punishment in another place, but in this small ship he knew he can act any way he wanted. They were travelling together since they finished the army and, during those years, they became very close friends.
“That wasn’t necessary.... you know...But if you are up and running you can check the ship’s status.”
“Wake up, we crashed on a planet that doesn’t appear on the map.”
“So? You should be happy discovering virgin territory.”
“I will be happy if we get back home alive, until then, let’s try to breathe”
“Life conditions?”
“I don’t know, the ship is unable to make an evaluation. All contact with the outside is lost and I need time for repairing. How are you feeling?”
“I feel really dizzy. What happened? I don’t remember anything”
“Not sure yet. The ship woke me up from hibernation, I thought we reached destination. ”
”How much damage are we dealing with? How long until we run out of air?”
”The figures are really strange. Either the ship is damaged beyond repairing or the planet is messing with it”
”One of those crazy planets with a mind of it’s own? Aren’t those just legends?”
”Come on, I could use some help here.
After a couple of hours they managed to stabilize the ship and figure out where they are on the map. The landing point was not far, just a few planets away, but their communication system was down and no chance to try to fly the ship. They had enough oxygen to last them until finishing the reparations but they were curious about this planet that showed up of thin air. Only a few cases were known as this one, this part of the universe, even if it wasn’t populated, was really well mapped. This used to be the pirates domain as the planets were reach in nutrition substances. The ship finished evaluating the outside environment. There was no oxygen and no life forms. They got echipped and went out to explore. A rocky planet, desert like, with wind blowing from all directions. This was getting even more odd, not only that the planet appeared out of no place but it was totally different from the others, as most of them had water, vegetation and exotic creatures as inhabitants.
”It is a small planet, don’t wonder around because you may fall.”
”Thanks for the advise smarty, next time keep it for yourself.”
”I really don’t understand how this could happen. We just stumbled on a planet”
”It is strange but don’t forget that even in this galaxy there were a few reported cases of new planets, discovered by accident.”
”Maybe we will be promoted after this adventure.”
”Only if we get back home alive, there is still no way of contacting the base or to fly out of here.”
”At least we repaired the life support.”
”Live another day...”
As they were gliding slowly on the surface of the planet, they heard a strange, very loud noise coming out of nowhere, a metallic sound that gave them a feeling of head explosion, followed by a strong earthquake that flew them apart of each other. The captain’s equipment got damaged, he was unable to move and there was no sign of his friend. His calls were left unanswered.
“And now what?” the question sounded strongly in his mind, making him wonder if it was his question or somebody was controlling his thoughts.
“What are you going to do next?” the second question came, this time assuring him that his mind started playing tricks on him.
“Maybe the hit was to strong and I lost knowledge, maybe this is just a dream...maybe this was a dream all along and now I am waking up...”
”You, my friend, are a fast thinker” the words just popped into his line of thoughts.
“What is this? Am I just talking to myself?”
“No, my dear one. I am the voice of the planet, your friend is safe with us”
“Us? Are you one of those smart planets, with a self consciousness?”
“It is not wise to play the role of the tough guy, dear captain. You came to us and now we control you.” “Sorry about that but we had no intention to crash here.”
“I like you, you are funny. Maybe we should continue this conversation elsewhere”
“And if I don’t want to?”
“You don’t have a choice, I’m afraid.”
An even bigger earthquake started and a door opened right on the ground in front of him. Strange looking stairs were going down. “I cannot move” “We will send somebody up to pick you.” After a few very long minutes a green, tall and thin creature, like never seen before, appeared in front of the captain. “What are you?” he thought for himself. “It is one of our slaves and he, from now on, will be at your disposal. You may do whatever you want with it for as long as you stay on this planet. ” The creature grabbed him with his four long arms and started carrying him down the stairs. They ended up in a big room, rather an antique ball room, grim and sinister. Only a few chandeliers were lightening the room and a tall man was sitting in front of it, creating the impression that he was the taking upon himself all the space surrounding the three.
He woke up in another room, a much smaller one, on a bed with white sheets, surrounded by white covers. His friend was sitting near him.
“How are you feeling?”
“Happy to be alive. What is this place?”
“Come on, we have a lot to talk about. They are waiting for us in the ball room.”
“The least you could do is give me some details...”
“You will see!”
“Should I be scared?”
“Yes!”
They entered in the ball room. The lights were on and the room was filled with all kind of creatures they have never seen before. Hundreds of eyes were turned in their direction. In the middle of the room was a big, Goth table with five chairs. Five humans were sitting, all the other participants were standing.
“Don’t be afraid, we mean no harm.” The woman voice sounded like coming from all around the room.
“Who are you?”
“We are The Inventers! Our existence is known only in the most selected of the universe’s circle. We travel across galaxies and gather data about all species we encounter. As you can see, we also take samples and use all the information to turn into reality any fantasy that could be imagined. ”
“What will you do with us?”
“The ancestors blood is sacred. Nothing will harm you but you are our prisoners. From now on you will remain on this planet until death or until you will be turned into one of us and become immortals. Any dreams you ever had will be fulfilled, any request will be a command. ”
“And what if we are not interested in your offer? Can we negotiate the terms of our release?”
“No! An identical ship with your dead bodies on is about to be picked up from the landing point. Nobody will ever hear of you again. If you try to escape your blood will turn into sand the moment you leave this planet.”
“So, this is clear! What next? ”
“For now please go to the chambers we prepared for you. Tonight you will be our guests at a dinner party, in your honor.” The woman finished her sentence as she was lifting up into the air.
The two good friends looked at each other for a while. They started they journey a long time ago, as peace makers, representing the human nation and ended up on a planet that doesn't exist. Their question was impregnated in the walls of the room "So what next..."