Pyran's Dilemma

By Wayne Austin

US Edition

Book Three of The Rodan Trilogy

Everyone wants to run Rob Burton’s life. Conrad Bressart, CEO of Unique Farewells, wants Aldar fixed and he only needs one word to make Rob comply. Nor will Samantha Jervois be talked out of her wacky idea for Immortals Inc and she’ll bite to get her way. And then there’s Sifour. The h’Slaitiarr merely wants him to get Aldar on board the Stagira to stop the interstellar ship from being hijacked.

General Wandar Kryzansky could help, but she can’t keep her hands off Pierot, that pesky junior officer with a ridiculous conspiracy theory and who reminds her of someone she desperately wants to forget... But when Wandar discovers Mandora is alive and serving on the Stagira, her universe is thrown upside down. And when Merryl Dyson wants to repay her...

The Interstellar Alliance is in danger and Rob must help Wandar stop history repeating with fatal consequences, but first he has to survive a termination party where he and Samantha are the guests of honor.

So how does a spaceship have sex?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Feb 23, 2023
• ISBN: 9781447827511

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Excuse me, Professor Alvaro.

Yes, Sigmund? Wil muttered to his virtual assistant, not taking his eyes off the three-dimensional model floating in front of him. With his finger, he tweaked its ball and the rolling green plains, the calmer part of a hyperactive landscape, jerked past to stop at a group of jagged red and yellow peaks that were split by gaping gorges with sides fading through pastel tans, oranges, and mauves to deep, dark blue at the bottom. Here was the cause of the anxiety.

Yolanda Molenaar wishes to speak to you, urgently.

Wil looked up and broke into a delighted smile. It had been a couple of months since he had spoken to his ex-wife. Ten years! Right up until his rejuv. The thought made him chuckle and he had to admit he still had a soft spot for her. It had to be a world record. Most marriage contracts barely lasted two. And — Wil pursed his lips — in a way they were still married through their shared passion — the project.

The project. Wil’s smile faded. That must be why she was calling. He forced a relaxed, welcoming smile, the one he reserved for his patients to put them at ease.

Of course, I’ll speak to her.

He swiveled around and a perfect head winked on before him. She was at least twenty percent more beautiful than before her rejuvenation, but it was worth every credit. That Umberti combination of sculptured Nordic cheekbones and pert nose to accentuate her full, sensuous lips was guaranteed to get anyone’s juices flowing, but to tease with such seductive innocence and then deny.... He had wanted to renew their contract, but now she just wanted to be friends. Though sometimes it was a tough friendship. He held his smile as she stared at him with a demanding glint in her wide, almond-shaped eyes.

Yolanda!

"You must talk to Rob—"

Please. Wil’s smile faltered and he held up a palm to stop her. She wouldn’t let it go. What’s done is done. I can sue him for breach of contract, but what good will that do? Besides, we both knew the risk. All we can do is pick ourselves up and keep plodding along. If we don’t get there, others will. That’s the way science works.

Yolanda broke into a wry smile. Thanks for the pep talk, but I haven’t called to demand you punish Rob. I know I went off the deep end after his rejuv, but I was angry. I’m sorry I blamed you. It was stupid of me.

No apology is necessary, I understand completely. Wil sat back and clasped his hands in his lap as he waited for her to continue.

I called ... I want you to get Rob back onto the project.

What? But I—

Have you studied the data from his rejuv or talked to him lately?

No. Wil shrugged and rubbed his chin. I saw no point. After the preliminary analysis showed clear tampering ... and when Rob denied keeping data from us, before you had that big argument with him. Did you have to hit him? I know you were angry. Wil chuckled. I thought I was going to have to sedate you. Yet another patient.

Yolanda raised her eyebrows to dismiss his charge as irrelevant. I’ve been to see him.... He’s different.

It’s to be expected—

"No! He’s normal. More like a first-juver. I ... I was shocked. He made a pass at me."

Wil’s mouth dropped open. And did you?

Yolanda hesitated. Nearly, she said in a low voice before recovering her composure. He caught me by surprise when he said he was sorry, not only for the rejuv, but for all the trouble before.... She cocked her shoulders as if that explained it all.

Really?

"And then he tried to kiss me! I was so shocked, I ... I hit him again. Sorry. And now he won’t talk to me. I couldn’t understand it, so I pulled out his last psyche map. You should see it! I’ve looked at the data he gave me, but, with a frown, she shook her head, somehow, when he tampered with his rejuv, he achieved what we’re after. But none of my team can get a handle on it. You have to get him back on the project; he’s the only one who can help us. You have to. Right away."

Wil pondered the significance for a moment. If it were true.... Let’s let him calm down first. If I call now, he’ll know it’s because of you and jump to the wrong conclusion. I’ll wait until I get back.

Why? Where are you going?

To Eden. Just to check on one of my patients to see how she’s coping in the real world. Wil tapped his lips and stared past Yolanda, smiling at the thought.

She smirked. It’s her, isn’t it? The head case.

Yolanda, please! Wil tried to stifle a laugh. That’s a terrible joke. Sandra has come a long way since they grew her body back. He sighed and relaxed into a smile. Ah, those were the days. What a challenge. It’s not often one gets to treat both the victim and the perpetrator at the same time. Wil puffed out his chest. That was my finest work.

But you can monitor her from here. Why do you have to go? This will only take a moment.... Yolanda pulled an innocent, childlike face. A plea to do it for her, for old time’s sake. Didn’t their marriage mean anything to him? Again, the tease.

Wil stifled a sigh. I need to. She’s an officer — worked to her way up to second-in-command. In fact, you know her captain.

Really, who?

Calvin Tyson.

Calvin? A wry smile came over her face. Why, I haven’t seen him in years, not since the memorial for his father, remember? Wasn’t that a fiasco? Oh well, say hello for me. When do you leave?

In about a week, they’re picking up a whole host of people returning from a conference.

So?

I checked the passenger list. There’s someone at the conference who Sandra will, more than likely, run into and I want to be there when she does.

Yolanda’s eyes opened wide as a shocked smile crossed her face. You don’t mean ... what was her name...? Wendy?

Wandar.

Kransky.

Kryzansky.

Wandar Kryzansky! That’s right! When you treated Rob. She had something to do with that.

That’s why I have to go. It’s the only chance I’ll get to see if my treatment has worked — on both of them. It will be quite intriguing. Wandar has had a rejuv since then. I’m curious to see what effect it’s had on her profile.

And Rob?

I’ll be back in five weeks or so. I promise, I’ll talk to him then.

CHAPTER 1

What a fantastic sight. Stunning. Seventeen third-juvers cavorted around the brightly lit black smokers, all of which were covered in a rich tapestry of long white tubes. They stuck out pinkish-red tongues as if to poke fun at the passing humans, while the small, pale-white vent crabs, scuttling about amongst them, ignored this gross intrusion into their domain. All around the hotchpotch of chimneys that defined the hydrothermal vents, superheated, sulfur-rich, mineral-laden water swirled from cracks to create a dark precipitation that imitated dense smoke so accurately, one could be forgiven for thinking the fires of hell raged within. And all within close proximity to the resorts on the shore of the Sea of Cortes.

Great work, Rob. Samantha Jervois turned to congratulate Robert Burton with a hug and a kiss that hinted at more to follow. For your first project, this is a great party! And under budget. If this is any indication, you’ll go far with Unique Farewells. It’s employees like you, which make us Numero Uno.

Once again, she surveyed the scene and choked off an urge to laugh.

What a gamble! Against her wishes this new employee had been foisted upon her and it had paid off, big time. She glanced sideways at the weird third-juver. Perhaps he could turn her career around and help her back up the corporate ladder to where she belonged.

Sub-yachts jostled for position around the party perimeter while a large media contingent broadcast the action on several hundred channels. All around, thousands of eager tourists vied for views of their chosen champions. The big crowd, twice what she had expected, had booked out the company’s hotels in nearby Atlantis for the week-long competition. That was Rob’s new twist. Rather than just killing themselves in unusual and extreme ways, the guests had to stay alive by competing with each other as well as with mobile booby traps and the environment itself. The last one left won an invitation to the ultimate Termination Party of their choice.

However, staying alive wouldn’t be easy. Thirteen had already discovered that.

The company yacht’s viewing window followed the favorite as he swam into a laser booby trap, but though he twisted and writhed to escape, the four blue beams danced across his pressure suit, leaving red trails. Then a vent opened up beneath him, swamping his suit with corrosive, superheated water. Samantha gasped in dismay. There was no way he could escape this time. That was the beauty in Rob’s design, the pressure suits could only sustain so much damage and they didn’t repair themselves. The vibrant yellows and oranges that washed over the white surface of the favorite’s pressure suit showed just how fast his luck was running out.

But with a twist and a roll, he broke free and jetted away, punching the water with an exhilarated yell.

Samantha pumped her fists at her sides to join in his celebration, but her stifled yell choked off as he crashed straight into the arms of a guest lying in wait. They tumbled across the jagged terrain. Then, as he pulled an arm free, another guest swam up from behind and grabbed him and, in what looked like a premeditated action, helped drag him backwards until he was draped over the black smoker.

Rob switched to a close-up from one of the many small robots that swarmed about the three guests, and though trapped, the man twisted and bucked like a demon possessed. Amid screams of laughter, he hurled insults. How pathetic! To have to team up to beat him. Samantha nodded to agree. On their own, they were no match, but cheating was in the rules. Within a few minutes, the side of his suit began to turn an intense orange and despite his feral grin, he grimaced. She directed a robot under him, and her confidence faded to a wry smile as she watched brilliant reds and oranges fluctuate across his back. In the lower right corner of the display, the tallest peak in a graph sank. Numero Uno was soon to be Nexto Deado.

Then, as a quiet alarm chimed, his attackers gave up and swam away, their suits glowing bright orange and red in places. A small explosion symbol flashed next to the favorite.

Ignoring the alarm, he continued to yell insults as he swam away, but then he changed his mind, and with a triumphant punch of both fists above his head to acknowledge the crowd, he jetted back into the stream of superheated water. The red began to spread as it intensified, and the alarm chimed louder. Then it cut out as his pressure suit crumpled. Its implosion triggered built-in explosives and with a flash, the water roiled. The black smoker teetered like an angry toddler and then collapsed in a jumbled heap, spewing forth jets of angry smoke. That left sixteen guests and still two and a half days to go.

Samantha pouted, hands on hips. Damn!

Personally, I don’t gamble unless it’s a sure bet.

No? Samantha turned to stare at him. I can’t figure you out. You’re so normal!

Ah ... that’s because I’ve always been the odd one out. Do I intrigue you? Perhaps we could have dinner and.... He cocked a cheeky eyebrow.

Now I know you’re strange. You want to date a second-juver? Samantha laughed and shook her head. Then a thought struck her. Do you think I’m ugly?

What? Rob’s brow furrowed and then his eyes widened as it hit him what she meant. Oh no, of course not! You misunderstand me. It’s just ... I’ve never been as ... I mean sex has never been that important to me. He blushed. I mean, it was never a big part of my life, but that’s changed since my rejuv. I haven’t turned out like other third-juvers, so I still find beautiful women attractive. Beautiful women like you.

Samantha sucked in her lips and choked off a snort. Pity no one had taught him the art of seduction. How strange. I take it you don’t look like that because you couldn’t afford any enhancements.

Exactly! I could have had all those things done. Easily. But I didn’t want that. I’ve only changed myself slightly. After all, why change perfection? Rob held out his arms and struck a pose.

Er, yes. Samantha tried to think of a tactful answer. So, nothing at all? No body jewelry? No skin imprinting? No, of course you didn’t.

I’ve had enhancements, just not physical ones so much. She arched her eyebrows. He was more strange than weird. In my last life, I implanted some nanot tools in my fingers. I used the latest technology, even my personal comp is made of nanots I designed. It was my attempt to become a robot! He winked to show he was joking. But I’m positively, abnormally normal now. And look here! He turned his head and pushed aside the green hair, which swept down to his left shoulder in what was more of a first-juver hairstyle to show he did have some body jewelry after all, except....

Samantha peered at the three dull crystals inserted into the nape of his neck. They look like data crystals.

They are! Rob laughed and his eyes glowed with enthusiasm. "They’re the memories from my previous lifetimes. And they have direct connects to my brain. You know, I was classified as a genius in each lifetime and all my memories, all my knowledge and skills, it’s all still available to me. That’s how I came up with this. He nodded at the action in the window. There was never any doubt it was going to be a success."

She tried not to make a disappointed face. A third-juver that wanted to look and act like a first-juver? What was the world coming to? I’m amazed, she murmured in a droll voice.

So, about...?

I don’t know.... she said demurely and waited for him to act, but he didn’t. Talk about hopeless, but perhaps it was for the best. Once bitten.... I know it’s encouraged within the company, but as much as I’d love to, she tried to keep the sarcasm to a minimum, I’ve found that if you screw with your employees, they can screw you.

He accepted the rebuff with a nonchalant shrug. Don’t feel disappointed, I didn’t think you would. And it’s all part of my plan to be the world’s most successful loser! He chuckled at his joke.

Samantha screwed her nose up; his jokes were awful. Then she changed her mind. Since he had paid off once, maybe he could again, and besides, she liked to be bitten as much as she liked to bite. But in your case. She stepped up and threw her arms around his neck before kissing him with reckless abandon. He stiffened for a moment, then relaxed and she pulled back to wink at him. I’ll make an exception. I hear third-juvers are incredible lovers! They can go on and on. She kissed him again. And on and on.

Yes, well....

A chime tinkled and Alex Bose appeared in a full-body virt. Good afternoon. Well, well! I hope I’m not interrupting anything. Samantha’s boss broke into a sly smile. Up to your old tricks again, Sam? She laughed with a hint of mockery.

Alex. Samantha let Rob go and tried to inject some enthusiasm into her voice, but it was so hard. Trust her to show up to steal the credit. Come to congratulate Rob?

Yes, absolutely! Everyone here at head office has been following his party keenly. It’s generated a lot of ideas for new projects. Well done, Robert! Alex beamed at him. And for you as well, she added almost as an afterthought.

Samantha turned away to hide her scowl.

Actually, I wanted to be there in person, Alex continued, but you know how it is when you’re in charge of one of the company’s major divisions. You have to be everywhere at once. Samantha winced. I’m here to ask Robert to come to head office. In person.

I can do that—

Samantha whirled around. Why do you want him?

Really, Sam! Alex sighed. You, of all people should know not to question my decisions. Samantha fumed and looked at Rob, her mouth squeezed tight.

Rob glanced at her and raised his eyebrows before looking back at Alex. The party winds up in just over two days. I can make it—

Now.

What do you mean?

She means she wants you to leave right now, at this very minute! Samantha snapped. Rob hesitated. Well don’t stand there. Go! I can manage everything here. Go! She turned away from both of them and stared at the display, arms crossed, and shoulders hunched.

Please, Robert. I know this is most unusual, but I’m only the messenger. Our president has asked for you personally. He expects you in three hours.

Three hours! But that’s impossible! Rob looked to Samantha and dithered for a moment. Okay, I’ll see you later. I guess dinner is off. Oh well, I’ll make it up when I get back. He hurried toward the door.

Samantha turned to glare at him. Go! Get out of here! she yelled as the door swished shut after him. She turned back to the display and hunched up again.

Look, Sam, Alex spoke in a conciliatory voice, I know you’re still upset, but you brought this on yourself!

Yeah, with a little help from you!

We’ve been through all this. What’s done is done. You can’t blame me, can you? I saw a chance and I took it and that’s all there is to it.

Samantha hugged herself tighter and wished Alex would leave. Why scratch open old wounds?

I know you were earmarked for this position, but you didn’t get it. And it wasn’t me that caused your demotion. If you had just controlled yourself and not let it get personal, you would have been my deputy and in line for other VP positions when they became available. It’s still not too late. This success can get you back on your feet again.

Samantha softened her stance a tad. Maybe, still....

Anyway, this isn’t my doing. I know it’s insulting, making you take over Burton’s job, but I had no choice. This request has come from the very top. Apparently, he has some skills urgently required by Specials. I expect you’ll get him back in a few days ... or weeks. So, think about what I said. I know I hurt you when we broke up, but these things happen all the time. A slight flicker showed that Alex had gone.

That’s the trouble, Samantha mumbled to herself, these things do happen. All the time.

CHAPTER 2

Fifty years, who’d have believed it? General Wandar Kryzansky sighed and smiled to herself as she leaned forward, her hands resting on the windowsill, to stare out at the city spread before her. She had come a long way.

What would the good professor think of her now? She had gone from an insane emotional wreck to become a desk-bound tyrant in the Interstellar Defense Alliance, in charge of thousands of people and doing an excellent job, even if she said so herself. Not like the riffraff around her.

That’s it, ruin your mood.

A wry smile crossed her face. How had it come to this? What had happened to that crack team of officers she had assembled? Now she was surrounded by imbeciles. And where was her crack team? Promoted to mundane positions and scattered across the Interstellar Alliance. And not once had she been consulted. That was the trouble with the IDA, she had idiots below her and fools above.

I should have stayed with the Bureau, she muttered. Oh, to be a field agent again, out chasing the bad guys with Anil....

Funny. Too many partners had disappointed her and been tossed aside since she had last seen Anil. Since ... Mandora had destroyed her marriage. There! She could think of that woman and not freak out. Wil Alvaro would be proud.

An overpowering lust washed over Wandar. She sucked in a breath and hugged herself, wriggling her shoulders, then pushed away to pace back and forth like a caged tiger, clenching and unclenching her fists to fight the frustration. Oh, if Anil were here.... If he thought she had been a little excessive when they were married, she’d really surprise him now. And, no doubt, excite him more than a little.

She stopped pacing and ran a hand over her hair, ruby-red like her burning desire, to make sure no strands were out of place. Anil wasn’t at the Interstellar Alliance Security Review Conference, but he was on Eden to attend the reunion celebration, marking the fiftieth anniversary since the Alien Research Institute’s conspiracy had been foiled. Fifty years since Merril Dyson had tried to kill her. He had escaped in the Concordia with ten thousand fellow prisoners, only to be lost forever, marooned. She had kept a hopeful eye out, hoping against the odds, he might return, but nothing. No, he was long dead.

Wandar turned to stare out at Paradise, Eden’s capital city. Paradise, it wasn’t. The boring functional buildings were laid out in a nice, neat grid with anal parks interspersed at regular intervals, and everywhere, a profusion of trees, bushes and grass extolled why Paradise was anything but exotic. The city was perfect for a pointless conference.

Security? The conference was nothing but a junket, an excuse to get together with old friends and fellow senior brass. A time to have some fun, reminisce, and put junior officers, trying to make a name for themselves with outrageous conspiracy theories, back in their place. There was nothing to review. The Interstellar Alliance was at peace, had been for the last fifty years. But it wouldn’t stay that way according to Lieutenant Pierot.

Sadness crept over Wandar. There was something familiar about that pushy first-juver. The woman needed a damn good thrashing and Wandar was just the person to dish it out. Out of nowhere her breath quickened at the thought and it made her smile. What lovely red marks her whip would leave on Pierot’s tight bare ass. And Anil’s. Both of them, lying naked on the floor, side by side, face down, their arms bound above their heads, whimpering as her stilettos left delicious red puncture marks when she stamped her feet. And her whip would come down. Thwack! On Pierot’s ass. Then thwack! On Anil’s, and—

Wandar caught her breath. She was doing it again, fantasizing about other women. It had started after her rejuv and yet she hadn’t requested a change in sexual orientation.

Oh well. She shrugged. Pierot was out of the question, but not Anil.

Marquis, locate Anil—

The door chimed. Sifour wishes to see you, Marquis announced.

Oh? Wandar tugged at her uniform. Let it in.

The door slid open and the h’Slaitiarr slipped through, legs rippling beneath its oval body, encased in a transparent safety suit. Yellow and red swirls drifted along its grayish-teal flanks.

Greetings, Wandar, it said through its global interpreter.

Greetings, Sifour, what can I do for you?

Sifour’s three forward tentacles dropped to the floor and writhed, curling back over each other, and for a moment the red and yellow swirls jiggled and sped up as bright green lightning flickered across its flank. You should not dismiss Lieutenant Pierot’s data without due consideration.

Wandar crossed her arms and frowned at Sifour. You can’t take her seriously, can you? The woman’s nothing but a pushy little upstart. I’ve heard some wild theories in my time, but hers? All the delegates are going to be kidnapped? Please! I’m not an idiot.

But all the important military and government personnel that can keep the Interstellar Alliance functioning during a crisis are here. Her data—

Vague hints at best. My analysts have dismissed it.

Your analysts are incompetent. You have said so yourself on several occasions. And Pierot makes some valid assertions.

Her assertions are ridiculous.

An agitated blue whorl danced along Sifour’s side. But she is correct. Personnel who have been effective in key positions have been removed—

Promoted.

To ineffective positions. And they have been replaced by candidates who lack either experience or ability.

Wandar sighed and put her hands on her hips. I realize that, but people move all the time.

The rate has increased over the last fifteen years. And what about the commanders? All your most experienced warship commanders now have desk jobs or have been posted to remote parts of the Interstellar Alliance. And all in the last five years. Does that not strike you as odd?

Wandar pursed her lips into a rueful smile. Unusual, I’ll grant you.

Please do not dismiss Lieutenant Pierot’s analysis. The patterns are subtle, but they do exist. The Interstellar Alliance is being manipulated.

By who? Wandar held out her hands. That’s what Pierot’s problem is. She can’t say. Some shadowy body — phantoms! And somehow, these phantoms are going to whisk away six thousand people from under the noses of two warships, plus all the marines stationed in Paradise?

I ask only that you have an open mind and take extra precautions.

Wandar’s shoulders sagged, and her head dropped forward until her chin rested on her chest. Very well. She sighed. I’ll look into it again.

Thank you. I am leaving for Earth this afternoon, but I will be back for the close of the conference. With that, Sifour reversed out of her apartment and the door slid shut.

Wandar shook her head and curled her lips into a disparaging smile. I said I’ll look into it, she muttered. Consider it looked into. What was wrong with Sifour? The h’Slaitiarr was normally so level-headed. Now where was I? She turned back to the window, leaned against the wall, and stared out at Paradise. Anil, I know you’re out there somewhere. So, you’ve been avoiding me, yes? She closed her eyes and surrendered to a sultry smile. That’s just like you. You wish to provoke me, yes? Always the same old Anil.

Her hand slid across her uniform and paused to squeeze her breast before going to her neck. She pressed her jacket’s release. Always the same old Anil, she muttered as her suit split down the side. Just you wait. Her uniform fell around her feet and her hands drifted down. I will make you pay, yes? Oh yes! I will make you pay.

CHAPTER 3

Alex met Rob outside her office and waved him after her. I didn’t call you here for myself.

Oh? he asked as he followed her to a down shaft, but she stayed silent.

They stepped out of the building and fell to the seventy-fifth floor where the lift’s magnetic controls slowed them, and they landed on a platform that had extended from the entrance. Try as he might, Rob couldn’t think why the company’s president wanted to see him. And here, in Specials Division of all places. Only the most senior personnel were granted access to this highly secure and secretive part of Unique Farewells, and he was certainly the most junior of its employees. With an annoyed frown over his dawdling, Alex dragged him to the division’s reception area, but its bland walls gave no hint as to what kind of outlandish projects were being developed behind those double doors for the company’s wealthiest and most fashionable clientele. The division was justifiably proud of its record. Not once had it turned down any request, no matter how bizarre. Only third-juvers were permitted to work within its confines and rumors abounded about what occurred during the termination parties.

There were rumors of orgies with sex and violence so disgusting they couldn’t be shown on official channels. Rumors that guests not only tortured, raped, and killed each other, but that they actually ate the dead in exotic feasts. There were rumors galore, but not one iota of evidence.

I’ll leave you here, said Alex. Someone will be out soon. After a curious stare, she turned and ambled over to the up shaft. Rob admired the sensual roll of her hips as he waited, clicking his teeth, and wondered what it would be like to—

The double doors sprung open, and he turned to see a glittering man, at least a head taller than him, beckon with an airy wave of his hand. Bright red and orange swirled across his face and arms, and his clothing gave off faint, but audible shrieks. Welcome, Robert Burton, to Specials Division, his guide’s global interpreter announced after a few seconds.

With a distinct feeling of unease, Rob fell in beside his colorful guide. You’ll have to forgive me, but I don’t speak slater. In the last nine years, it had become all the rage among third-juvers to enhance themselves with the capability to translate sub-vocalizations into the aural and visual displays of the h’Slaitiarr language, but it didn’t appeal to Rob.

My apologies, his guide’s interpreter offered. Ah, we are here. He chuckled and ushered Rob through a pair of brocaded doors that swung out.

A deep voice moaned from a large chair that faced away from Rob, jerking back and forth behind a huge desk. Yes! That’s it. That’s it! Rob looked around the room and tried to ignore the growing orgasm coming from the chair.

Slowly, the groaning grew to an ecstatic, frenzied crescendo. He had witnessed many third-juver orgies during his early days as a second-juver, but none so crass as this. But that was money for you, especially in the wrong hands. The rocking ceased and a young newbie stood up and stared at Rob with a triumphant smile. He was a first-prize trophy, and he knew it, but Rob felt nothing for him and couldn’t understand what his fellow third-juvers saw in such repulsive creatures. Ugly? A single thick eyebrow carpeted both of his small, beady eyes, which were far too close together, and yet he looked, cross-eyed and almost askant, past Rob with undisguised bemusement. Rob managed to stifle a guffaw. With his big, hooked nose skewed well to the right, it dominated the newbie’s long, angular face to make him look eternally morose, and his large ears, which stuck out like bat’s wings, only made matters worse. He looked the embodiment of an ancient Dadaist masterpiece.

That will be all Carlos, darling. Excellent work! The voice let out a hearty laugh and the chair swiveled around to face Rob.

As Carlos sauntered past Rob, he rolled his eyes and screwed his nose up. "What on Earth are you?"

Ah, Robert. Welcome. Welcome! A tall man stood up and brushed his hands down over the body of a naked voluptuous third-juver woman projected on his body suit. She moaned and slashed her breasts with a short knife as he fondled her where hers were superimposed over his still engorged genitals. Later, Lola. After a forlorn pout, she disappeared. He waved Rob forward with a profuse smile. Conrad Bressart. We haven’t met before, but I’m the company president. Sit down. Get yourself a drink.

From beside the wall, a seat rolled toward Rob and offered itself, while a cocktail robot ambled over with a list of available concoctions floating above it. Stiff-backed, Rob perched on the seat and waved the robot away. Something about this Conrad’s demeanor put him on edge and for the life of him, he still didn’t know what he had to offer Specials anyway. Nor, from what he had heard, did it appeal to him in the slightest.

Conrad sat down, leaned back in his chair, and perused Rob for a moment. Relax, I’ve called you here to give you an exciting invitation.

Oh? I thought you had to work your way up through the company before you could even be considered by Specials, and I’ve only worked—

Normally that’s true, but in your case it’s different. You have some unique skills and knowledge from your second lifetime we urgently need.

I can’t think—

Skills, which, if I’m not mistaken, you still possess.

Rob sucked in his lower lip. Ye-es, but that was, oh, over fifty years ago. I take it you mean nanot technology, viruses, and sentient algorithms. I’ve kept up with the latest developments, but only as a hobby. There must be hundreds or thousands of others who are more up to date than I am.

Please Robert, be positive!

"Okay. I’m positive! There are thousands of others who are more up to date than I am."

Conrad laughed. Your file said you had an interesting sense of humor. I think they understated that a little. However, to answer your concerns ... perhaps there are other people we could call on, but they aren’t in your position. They don’t work for the company, and they have ties with the IDA and other government organizations. You don’t.

Rob shifted in his seat. Perhaps the rumors were true. If it’s something illegal, I’m not interested—

We want you to modify a robot we use in our most secret project. A sentient robot. Rob blinked and leaned forward. That was crazy! The robots would never allow it. Besides, Conrad laughed out loud, and his eyes twinkled. I think you’ll find it something of personal interest to you.

Rob frowned. He had never modified a sentient robot in any of his lives. What do you mean?

Oh, it’s so ironic. Conrad laughed again, even harder this time.

"What is?"

Considering you ... it’s almost beyond belief. Conrad scrunched his face up and slapped his seat’s armrests as he roared in laughter. In fact, it is beyond belief!

Rob sat back and waited. If the president of the company wanted to have a laugh at his expense, who was he to object?

I mean, it involves your most private project from back then. Conrad stared at Rob with a congenial smile, much like a cat regarding a mouse it had just caught, and his mouth squirmed as he repressed another laugh.

I don’t follow you. I’ve never done anything illegal.

Are you sure? What about sentient robots? Conrad chuckled some more. Are you sure you haven’t created one of those without proper authority?

Rob stifled a gasp. There was no way anyone could know, not unless God Two had revealed all, and then it was only a suspicion. Besides, the robots wouldn’t tell someone like Conrad Bressart. Wha-what do you mean?

Conrad’s eyes narrowed and he spoke in a soft, but deadly voice. For a friend perhaps? There’s no use in denying it, we have irrefutable proof.

I don’t know what you’re talking about and I’m not going to modify any sentient robot. It’s not only illegal, it’s unethical! Rob tried to sound emphatic as he stood up to leave. I guess I’m out of a job.

Nonsense! When you discover what our little problem is, you’ll jump at the chance to be involved — and do as we ask.

Modify a sentient robot? I can only think you want me to modify its core ethics algorithms and there’s no way you can force me to do that. I’m not prepared to risk spending the rest of this life in isolated home detention on minimum support. So go ahead. Call the authorities. I’m sure they’ll be only too pleased to delve into Unique Farewell’s Specials Division.

What if I said one word that would change your mind? One word.

There’s noth—

Princess.

Rob froze. What? A fit of trembling swept over him, and he dropped back onto the seat, not bothering to hide his shock. But how...?

Princess. Conrad’s soft voice oozed arrogance. We know about Princess. Surely you can’t have forgotten one of your major achievements. A fully sentient robot made up of nanots and which resides in a human body?

You have Princess?

No, but the robot we have does know something about what happened to her and your best friend.

Rob swallowed, then pulled up the memories from his crystals for that time. It was the start of a year he more than wanted to forget. Rodan had been killed in a h’Slaitiarr space station when renegade soldiers, belonging to a shady human government agency called the Alien Research Institute, had attacked it. They had tried to start a second war between humans and h’Slaitiarr but had failed. Only a few tissue samples had been found; just enough to prove beyond doubt.

Rodan? But he’s been dead for over fifty years!

And still is as far as I know. However, your little creation played a rather cruel trick on a robot—

Aldar? A sudden memory cut across Rob, fresh, like it had just happened yesterday, and a shiver coursed down his spine. His mouth went dry as a sick feeling permeated from his stomach. He had done his best to wipe that episode from his consciousness, but every now and then a vestige poked through to haunt him. At the time, he was convinced that a rogue element in the IDA had captured the psychopath from under his nose, but it was those stupid third-juvers. He saw it now and didn’t bother trying to hide his scowl.

Yes! I see you still remember. Your Princess infected Aldar with her strange humor algorithms. Apparently, her humor is rather similar to yours. Rob let out a humorless laugh at the thought. His flawed genius had almost killed him, not to mention the hundreds of others. And also with some quite amazing sexual algorithms, Conrad added. "I was quite surprised myself. Our records indicate you’ve never had a strong sexual proclivity, not even now as a third-juver. So, I’ve never understood why you created a robot with such strong and such bizarre sexual urges, and with both heterosexual and homosexual tendencies. Conrad stared at Rob, waiting. Personally, I’m quite fascinated."

She, er, was a gift. She was based on the persona of a third-juver, Rodan had loved when he was a newbie. I, uh, included her sexual profile.

So? Are you interested?

How could it be? That this monster was still alive after all these years? He recalled a name, Kryzansky. Wandar Kryzansky. They had both nearly been killed.... Rob forced the memory down as it tried to surface again and fought off the urge to get up and walk out. Can ... can I think about it?

Let’s just say ... technically, since an illegal sentient robot that you created modified a registered sentient robot without its permission, you are responsible. My legal people have checked it out. The penalty’s the same. If you do as we ask, you may not be found out, but if you don’t, then you will be. The company will get a hefty fine, but so what? I won’t be the one locked away. Conrad offered Rob a feral smile. Does that help?

Rob grimaced. Uh, since you put it that way.

I’m surprised. I thought you’d jump at the chance to find out what’d happened to your psychopath. After what you went through, and then poof, it just disappeared. Conrad chuckled.

So why does Aldar work for you?

Ah, it’s a long story. Aldar is special. You’ll find that out when you see him. He’s involved, as I said, in our most secret project.

Yes, and...?

About fifty years ago we had a request. It was most bizarre, even by our standards. Conrad hesitated for effect.

Please, I can’t stand the suspense! Rob snapped, not bothering to hide his sarcasm.

Conrad just offered up an innocent smile before he relented. There is a club, a secret society if you like, and its members are some of the wealthiest citizens on Earth. They are also extreme, even by third-juver standards.

And?

Conrad sucked in a deep breath and paused to enjoy Rob’s annoyed fidgeting. Then he let his breath whoosh out. They wanted to be murdered.

"What?"

Not only murdered, but tortured and raped first, then die during their final orgasm. And when they heard about that psychopath on Arcadus, Conrad’s eyes lit up, he was just perfect.

Rob sat open-mouthed. This had to be a macabre joke. His jaw worked up and down for a moment before he managed to get any words out. That’s disgusting. It’s sick!

Oh, I don’t know, Conrad murmured, I’m planning to go out that way when my time comes.

So why do you want me? Rob screwed his face up into a sneer. "Isn’t Aldar sick enough for you?"

Believe me he is. I have some great vids you can watch if you like. The trouble is, poor Aldar has a split personality. Normally, he forces himself on his victim and carries out whatever extreme fetish their heart desires, and then, suddenly, his other personality cuts in and he begs their forgiveness and says he’s sorry. Then he tries to help them escape. It’s very disconcerting for our clients and we’ve had complaints. Fortunately, the good personality takes over again and so far, he has completed all his termination parties. Until you came along, we had no hope of modifying him. That’s why we hired you.

Oh, I thought it was because of my ideas.

"Please! I don’t