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  She assured me her pets would quickly learn that this stateroom was their territory and they would stay put unless carried by someone they knew. They also knew the difference between a person and a machine so there was no danger of them hitching a ride on a bot. They didn't much care for machines, so they stayed away from them.

  I idly wondered what they tasted like grilled. Stopping that chain of thought, I mentally named the one that had purred in my arms, Socks. Socks and I would end up having some nice quality time over the next few years.

  A few days after my snake wrangling experience, Hornblower called all the crew to the conference room aboard Traveler. He said he wanted to put it to a vote as to whether the Bears would stay or be returned to their home galaxy. He was abstaining from the vote. We had heard Forest's presentation and we all knew of the potential difficulties that could arise if they stayed. Hornblower left the room. When he returned, he found that it had been a unanimous decision to allowed them to stay. The ships’ AIs also voted.

  I asked Fount if she would miss being with other Bears and inquired about their family status. She told me, that in their species, as long as they stayed in relatively close proximity to their linked spouse, they were never lonely. As for family, Bears formed rather loose, cooperative, and communal groups in which blood lines didn't make a difference, even in child rearing. Fount and Forest had no offspring. They had chosen to remain childless until their days of scientific hop-scotching were over. I was relieved that their absence wouldn't create emotional hardships back home. Traveler arranged a Bear-version Q-Com call to their galaxy to let a few of their friends know that they were safe and off on a scientific task. I told them that they could call home anytime they liked. Our crew had grown by two. We were quite the menagerie and were all friends. I still tried to grind Mica's gears. No luck so far.

  24 Worm Turning

  Back at the ranch, we had two projects. The first was to prep for recovery of the second Surron library. The other was to further explore how and why Mr. Frease had an Eshalax worm in his head.

  To a normal brain scan, what was snuggled up to his cranial implant looked like a very small benign tumor, not worth a medical extraction. Our Surron based scans were more definitive. We'd kept Mr. Frease on ice while we were gone. When he awoke from stasis, it seemed to him that only one night had passed.

  We dispensed with the legal charade that had been put together for Amanda's benefit. Hornblower and Ranger walked into the cell block. There were now three chairs behind the table. The cell block had been the only thing Frease had seen since we deposited his sleeping body there two weeks ago.

  Before Hornblower and Ranger sat down, Frease jump off his bunk and charged the transparent barrier of his cell. “I knew it! I didn't believe that judge for one single minute. Captain, I assume you have come to release me to avoid the wrath of my power. And, just what have you done with Amanda? By the way, whatever she may have told you is a lie.”

  From brain scans, we knew he had believed every word of Martin's script. “No. You're not being released just yet. We have a few loose ends to tie up. The first being, why did you attempt to blow up my ship on Tanner if you wanted it so bad?”

  “Blow up your ship? That wasn't me or any of my associates. Someone else must either want that ship destroyed, or you dead, or both.” He smiled smugly. “If I'd gotten your ship, I would have been the richest, most powerful man in the galaxy. You, sir, stole my destiny. It was the Eshalax who wanted me to capture your ship and turn it over to them. I was going to keep it for myself.”

  “And the first kidnap attempt on Tanner?” Ranger inquired.

  “Not me either. I learned about it from Jennette Parker. It was a rather clumsy kidnap for ransom attempt by amateurs, one of the local mob families. Parker had the kidnappers and the top family members eliminated to keep them out of her way. She was good about clearing the decks for action. Unfortunately, a related crime family got to her before she could get off-planet. A shame really.”

  “How did you know we would be stopping at Tanner. Ms. Parker got there well ahead of us.”

  “That was just a happy coincidence, she was one of my traveling agents. I have many of them. She was on Tanner to handle other business when she reported to me that you had arrived.”

  That's when Fount walked in and sat in the third chair. She was interested in observing a criminal. Frease didn't know what to make of the new arrival. Ranger formally introduced her. “Mr. Frease, this is Doctor Fount. She is a psychologist visiting this galaxy on an exchange program. She will be observing our fact-finding investigation. Doctor Fount, this is Mr. Frease, former titan of industry and currently being held on charges of criminal activities, including murder.

  Through her translator, Dr. Fount said, “It is my pleasure to meet you, Mr. Frease,” giving him a slight head nod. Frease was gob smacked.

  You can learn a lot from a criminal once they crumble and start talking. They’re always such cowards underneath. During the interviews with Frease, it was soon noticed by Sojourner's scans that anytime Frease heard the name Eshalax mentioned, his worm gave a little wiggle and attempted to use his Q-insert to transmit a message.

  It also attempted to modify his endorphin, serotonin, and GABA levels. Frease had been a junkie, and the worm his dealer. Since we had disabled his insert, the messages and hormonal controls were blocked. After he finally and completely caved, he begged to have the alien bits inside him removed.

  Frease had been an Eshalax quisling working to benefit himself by rewards for passing information and receiving action orders from the Eshalax. We still didn’t know how they knew about Ranger.

  Early in his life, Frease had been a minor figure in a small crime family. He knew that his upward mobility was limited, so when he was approached by a friendly Eshalax surrogate, he let his greed and lust for power lead him to become a tool. Of course, he benefited tremendously. They helped clear a path and steer him to rise up, accumulating people, power and prestige. We were now sure there were other humans in our galaxy who were on the hook. Perhaps thousands had been infected affected.

  We briefly considered tasking ourselves to finding them. I voted no. Playing galactic undercover sheriff was not something I wanted to do. Besides, with the Eshalax gone, never to return, so was their connection to any humans they had infected.

  By the way, Mr. Frease died of a sudden massive cerebral hemorrhage. His worm had committed suicide and had taken Frease’s life with it.

  25 Causality Casualty

  Since both the Bears had education and experience equal to or above several science PhD degrees, we would refer to both of them as Doctor. Forest and Fount were going to be full team members. We had given them the full soup-to-nuts disclosure, including our backgrounds, our previous activities together, along with a brief about the Zees, the Surrons and the Surron AI, now in human form, named Martin.

  They were both very excited and interested to be included in our efforts. For them, even if they would only be observers, it would be a scientific observation never before equaled by any of their species. They both saw the wisdom of not casually releasing much of the Surron technical and science information. Wholeheartedly agreeing that it would prove disastrous to many species, including their own.

  I asked Dr. Fount why she was interested in criminals and their behavior. She told me, that in their culture there weren't any criminals. There were the occasional Bears who went mental, but that was a medical problem and any improper actions were never ascribed to cold logical criminal behavior.

  I asked her why they had a military if they had no high-ball criminals like Frease. She responded that those units were used for search and rescue and for facilitating the change in orbits of hazardous asteroids. And, oh, by the way, their military was an ongoing, preparatory precaution for defensive use against encounters with aggressive aliens. To this point in their history, as far as they knew, there had been no alien visits to their galaxy. They knew there was a high pro
bability of hostile aliens being out there somewhere. And perhaps, somewhere close.

  ✽✽✽

  Our second crypt burglary was going to be more difficult. It lay in a galaxy that had three species engaged in a violent scrum for supremacy in their bailiwick. Defensive gun play may be necessary. The Bears cringed listening to that discussion. We didn’t talk about those issues in their presence after that.

  We had unloaded all the material, including the AI, from the first library into the caverns. That crypt had turned out to be more like a museum warehouse. I sat in the cavern looking at the mass of stacked crates holding hundreds of thousands of artifacts that needed sorting. Rock hounds like us weren't suited for the job. We need a staff full of curator for this. The Bears! They would be perfect for that. I bet they would love to do it. They would cherish each item and care for them as if they were their own children. They were the perfect pair to record and catalog descriptions, as well as categorize and research the provenance for each scrap. We would be bringing in a lot more for them. We were going to need more Bears.

  If we ever opened an Alien Artifact Museum, we could charge a credit a head and still make tons of money for our favorite charities. We would charge those snooty scientists, who had shown up at our find over two years ago, a mint to handle and study the stuff. Yeah, it was all just stuff to me, until I could find a working or repairable machine in the bunch.

  ✽✽✽

  Most days we didn't have much to do while working through our preps. We continued to use the immersion games to test ourselves against different dirt-side scenarios, we did dojo workouts at least every other day, and some exploring of our property. Other than kicking ass in the dojo, the field trips were my favorite. I was starting to really love this land.

  Joining another monthly land owner bash, we caught up on all the latest gossip and fashion trends, met many of our previous acquaintances and just hobnobbed with the rich and locally famous. We had a state-of-the-art Auto-Kitchen, but the human chefs and grill masters at those functions were true artists.

  I accompanied Abby at these conclaves and found that she was becoming more and more adept in the social swim. She was mastering the strokes. Most of the time the other members of our crew charted their own course, but this time I was catching Mica staying close to us. I even saw him gently brush off a couple of cute babes. He was either sick or infatuated with someone. I was stricken by a horrible thought. Was it me he had his sights on?

  I quickly trashed that line of thought, as I watched his eyes and interest follow Abby as she wandered over to watch the action at a barbecue pit. That was amusing, and entertaining. He was smitten by a pony-tailed, inter-dimensional alien walking around in a computer printed body. I could only imagine the mental conflicts going on in his head. At least he wouldn't have to meet the parents. Or would he?

  Childishly, and with just a bit too much glee, I murmured, “Mica and Abby sittin' in a tree...” As for me, more than a few times I’d had thoughts of pulling my hulking twin friends into my cabin for some night-time R & R with R & D had crossed my mind. I wonder what kind of mood music they like.

  ✽✽✽

  Since we would be going into a war zone, Mica wanted to have his Q-implants upgraded to the level Hornblower and I had. That was a simple ten-minute adjustment in Traveler's Auto-Doc. All of us were more than a bit nervous at the idea of injecting ourselves into a possible combat situation.

  Hornblower and I had served in the military, but this situation was well outside our training and experience. With Mica's upgrade, we could add more of our fighters to the mix. Hornblower would act as overall commander of assets, while Mica and I would be free to control two large fleets of AI fighters if the need arose. We were making more fighters we were going to stuff Traveler to the gills with them.

  ✽✽✽

  Abby, Mica, Dodger, and I were doing some tactical repelling, in light combat gear, down a sixty-meter cliff on our property. Belaying lines, pinions, helmets, carabiners, camalots, harnesses, climbing boots and fingerless gloves, the whole McGuffy.

  It was a cool, dry and breezy, overcast day perfect for rock climbing. Abby had taken to spending a lot of time outdoors enjoying our natural surroundings. Dodger, while a very smart Zee, enjoyed maximizing the physical use of his strong frame.

  Abby and Mica were standing on a ledge about halfway down. Dodger was off to their left about twenty meters, and I was to the left of him, slightly above. My legs were in a static extension stretch, pushing against the cliff wall, preparing for another short repel down.

  The first sign of danger was a Q-Com from Sojourner: Seismic Alert. He'd sensed small micro tremors which preceded large planet quakes.

  As the quake struck, I looked over at Abby and Mica on their ledge. Mica was looking up. In a blur he quickly grabbed Abby, balled her up, and tucked her into a small cavity in the rock face. He stretched his body over the opening, hugging the wall of stone. She was inside the small hollow, he was not. Mica had flipped his switch and so had I.

  Everything moved in slow-motion. I saw a wedge-shaped ten-ton rock slide down the cliff straight towards Abby and Mica. Both of their repelling and belaying lines were attached to that moving slice of mountain.

  I watched helplessly as Mica drew his knife and cut Abby's ropes, and then his own just before the inner face of the rock monster scraped him off the cliff, carrying him, crushing him at the bottom.

  I screamed. I roared. My organs sank down into a jellied mass. Every time I made contact with the cliff face, I kicked it. Kicked it viciously. I clawed that mountain. I hurt that mountain. I wanted to kill that mountain. Kill it like it had killed my friend.

  I don’t remember how I got back to the ranch. I don't remember much of anything about the remains of that day or the next. I stayed in my room, cocooned from the world that had killed Mica. Killed my friend. Lots of crying. Lots of asking why. Lots of rage, hurt, anger, feelings of being deserted, abandoned. Lots of pillow punching. Lots of kicking the crap out of furniture. More heart wrenching anger than I had ever felt before.

  I remember Socks cuddling up with me. I remember Abby coming in once and quietly sitting. I remember her asking me why Mica had sacrificed his own life to save hers. I pulled the covers over my head with my bandaged hands. I told Abby to ask Dr Fount. I knew damn well why he'd done it. I was the only one who knew. It felt like a cold and wet heavy burden slowly strangling and crushing me.

  PART THREE

  MICA

  26 Little Dog Gone

  I woke up as the Auto-Doc lid opened. I had just undergone the procedure to bring my cranial Q-inserts up to and a bit beyond Mil-Spec level from the civilian version I'd had since I was eighteen. Nobody was around. Surely someone would have been there to greet me after the short procedure. I climbed out and left the Med-bay. I couldn't get my Q-Com to make connection with anyone. The procedure must have gone bad. I walked the passageways looking for everybody, anybody. Finding no one I spoke, “Where the hell is everyone?”

  A voice I'd never heard before announced, “You and I are the only ones aboard this ship.”

  “Who are you?”

  The voice responded, “I am Vector, the ship Axon's AI.”

  “Where’s Traveler, I want to speak to Traveler.”

  “I don't know any person or unit named Traveler.”

  I continued to walk the ship, looking for my buddies. The ship was sparkling clean, nothing out of place. No personal items in the cabins we were using. No unmade beds. I looked in Sandy's cabin. She was a bit of a slob when it came to her living quarters. Spic and span, no clothes on the deck, bunk made up so tight a credit coin would bounce on it. Sandy never let the housekeeping bots go in her cabin. Checking the commissary area, I saw empty storage bins. No sign of any previous habitation by anyone.

  On the bridge, everything looked normal. I looked at the command console. Hornblower had worn a smooth spot on the right corner where he always propped his foot. Not there, no scuff
s, scratches or wear marks anywhere.

  I punched in a few housekeeping commands. Those controls responded. I looked over at the navigation panel and my heart jumped into my throat. The navigation screen said we were in orbit around the planet where we had stolen the Surron ship. That event felt like it was a very long time ago. It was in fact over two billion years ago. But for us, it was just shy of two years.

  In the past... in the past. So, how had we gotten back here. The Surrons of that time had vaporized this entire system after we’d left, that’s what Surron history had recorded.

  Had we gone back further in time? Again? And where were my crew mates, and the Zees, and Martin?

  I tried again; “OK, Vector. Just where are we,” I almost said WHEN are we.

  “We are orbiting planet WR2-3 in the 3598-KR2 system.”

  I almost didn't ask my next question. “Where is the rest of the ship's crew?

  “They perished during a Nano infestation.”

  “How long ago was that?”

  He gave me the answer, using a time-passage stamp that I didn't recognize, but that my brain understood as, “It has been 1 Year - 10 months - 4 days - 17 hours - 41 minutes - 13 seconds since my last assigned crew member died.”

  Crap, that was about when Traveler took control of the Surron ship's AI. I was getting a very bad feeling. I was hoping Hornblower or Sandy were playing an elaborate prank.

  “When did I come aboard the ship.”

  “You came aboard this ship fourteen minutes, nine seconds ago, via the Med-bay.”

  “How did I get in the Med-bay?”

  “I do not know”

  “Am I listed as a crew member?”

  “No, you are not.”

  “Do you know who I am?”